Crazy in Chicago
Authors: Norah-Jean Perkin
Â
CRAZY IN CHICAGO
Paranormal Romance
by Norah-Jean Perkin
Kindle: 978-1-58124-242-3
ePub: 978-1-58124-482-3
©2012 by Norah-Jean Perkin
Published 2012 by The Fiction Works
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission, except for brief quotations to books and critical reviews. This story is a work of fiction. Characters and events are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Â
Â
Â
“Ms. Perkin pulls the reader in from the first page and knows how to keep them enthralled. I highly recommend it.”
âReviewer: tteditor,
Timeless Tales
Â
“
Crazy in Chicago
(is) an entertaining romp through the mythology of UFOs. Read alone or in conjunction with
Blue Dawn
(its prequel),
Crazy
is a satisfying venture into romantic paranormal.”
âKatriena Knights,
Escape To Romance
Â
Chapter 1
Â
Cody Walker sighed and rubbed the palms of both hands down his face. The prickle of stubble told him it wouldn't be long before it was time to get up to shower and shave for work. He could smell the faint tang of the brandy he'd been downing every forty minutes or so in the hope it would lull him to sleep. But no such luck. He was more awake now than he had been at one a.m. when he'd fallen exhausted into bed.
He sighed again. Finally he sat up and swung his feet to the cool oak floor. He glanced at the bedside clock. Four a.m. Four-oh-three to be exact. And still awake. Why couldn't he sleep?
It had been this way for the last six nights. He'd been lucky to get two or three hours of sleep, tops. That was fine for a night or two, but it couldn't go on this way. He couldn't even blame it on muggy wave of heat currently enveloping Chicago. His new apartment might be downtown, but it was also air-conditioned and close to Lake Michigan.
In disgust, he stood up. By the faint light glimmering through the sliding glass doors to his bedroom, he found a pair of nylon jogging shorts and pulled them on. He might as well go outside. He'd read somewhere that looking at water was supposed to be relaxing. Hell, he had one of the largest inland lakes in the world almost at his doorstep. If that didn't work, what would?
He slid open the door to his small rooftop garden, one of the benefits of living on the top floor of an award-winning apartment building. The muggy air hit him with a shock, sucking the air from his lungs and almost propelling him back into his room. Taking another breath, he stepped outside and shut the door. He could understand why anyone without air conditioning might have trouble sleeping tonight. But him? He shook his head, casting away the faint sense of uneasiness rising inside.
The dark sky hung heavy with clouds, obscuring the moon and stars and holding the heat down to the earth like a thermal blanket. Beneath it, the lake visible from his garden was a black, silent mass. Only the faint sounds of distant traffic, and a closer squawk of a horn broke the quiet.
The niggling sense of threat, an unease he couldn't put his finger on but which had been there for days, reasserted itself in the heavy heat. Cody frowned and advanced towards the railing of his garden. He had a full day's work tomorrow and had toâ
“. . . me.”
An indistinct voice coming from the other side of the hedge bordering his garden stopped him. He turned and looked. Over the shoulder-high hedge, he could see light streaming from the sliding doors of the apartment next door. He shrugged and continued on.
“Take me. Take me, please.”
A female voice, soft and musical, reached through the heavy air. Cody grinned. Well, at least somebody was putting the night to good use.
But Cody had no intention of eavesdropping on his neighbor's love life. He turned to go back inside.
“Take me, goddammit!”
Vibrating with frustration, the demand hung in the night air. Cody stopped again, his curiosity growing. Obviously things weren't going so well for his unseen neighbor.
“Take me, take me, take me,” the voice crooned again, this time more calmly.
Cody's curiosity got the better of him. Could it hurt to take a quick peek over the hedge? He'd confirm the presence of the lovers he expected to see, then slip back into his room.
He stole over to the hedge and looked. To his surprise, he saw only one person in the neighboring garden. The small figure lay on a chaise lounge and gazed up at the sky, her arms outstretched. She wore what looked like a tank top and boxer shorts. Light from the door reflected off a mop of golden curls.
Cody suppressed a chuckle. Why, it was just a teenager, playing at some fantasy.
Unconscious of his presence, the girl sighed heavily, then shook her fist at the sky. “Take me, goddammit. Why won't you take me?”
Cody grinned again. He should leave, and leave now, but he couldn't resist. He leaned forward. “If that's what you want, ma'am. At your service.”
The small figure shot upright, upsetting the lounge and toppling onto the patio. She squirmed about for a moment before untangling herself and scrambling to her feet.
Clutching a pillow, she looked around wild-eyed, her chest heaving under the skimpy white tank top. “Who's there? What do you want? I'll call the police!”
Cody chuckled. He had trouble not laughing outright. “I'm over here. I'm your next-door neighbor. I didn't mean to frighten you. I'm not a burglar. I got up because I couldn't sleep, then I heard you talking.”
Once he knew he had her attention, he cast a cursory glance around the patio. “Who were you talking to?”
Under the golden curls, her face flamed with an embarrassment he couldn't miss even in the dim light. Her round eyes momentarily screwed shut. Although she was small, not more than five foot two, he realized that she must be older than he'd thought, likely in her mid-twenties.
She opened her eyes, but her gaze avoided his. “No one,” she gritted out.
He raised his eyebrows, unable to prevent his amusement from surfacing. “No? I distinctly heard your voice.”
She clutched the pillow as if it she might crush it. Light glinted off a silver chain around her neck. “I . . . I was practicing.”
“Oh? You're an actress?” Cody asked innocently.
“Ahh . . . not exactly.” She hesitated, shifting her weight from foot to foot, unwittingly drawing his attention to the shapeliness of her bare legs. “Look, I really should go in now. I've got to get some sleep.”
She turned to retreat. For a moment he watched the sway of her rounded hips. His neighbor displayed an enticingly feminine shape. A tingle of anticipation and a faint stirring in his lower parts took him by surprise.
“What's your name?”
Â
It was clear from her expression when she faced him again that she desperately wanted to escape. But good mannersâand her obvious wish to pretend nothing embarrassing had happenedâprevented her from fleeing.
“Bobbi. See you around.”
Before Cody could say another word she dashed into her room and shut the door. A second later the lock clicked shut.
In the darkness, Cody shook his head and smiled, surprised to find his fatigue evaporated. Bobbi, was it? So this was his new neighbor. Well, well, well.
Thoughtfully he turned towards his door. He'd never bothered to get to know his neighbors in the past. Maybe it was time he did.
* * *
“And now, I'd like to introduce Dr. Garnet Jones, the president of the Society of UFO Watchers, and the chairman of this conference.”
Roberta Vandenburg nodded in the direction of her boss, the first of four panelists to discuss the phenomenon of alien abduction. She cleared her throat and stood as straight as possible, trying to maintain the aura of serious calm she believed essential for a moderatorâand to utilize every inch of her small stature to lend authority to her position. “Dr. Jones will now tell you about his most recent abduction experience, and what he believes it means.”
Straightening her skirt, she sat down and watched Garnet rise. However unusual Garnet's beliefs might be, his appearance projected a reassuring measure of normalcy, an important factor in a field often associated with the lunatic fringe. Garnet wore his steel gray hair and beard short and trimmed; the wire-rimmed glasses, gray trousers, and navy jacket over a white shirt and classic school tie could have been worn by any tall, spindly, English professor.
Roberta turned her attention to the audience of about one hundred. For that matter, the people here looked pretty normal too, with a balance between men and women, scattered throughout all age ranges, and wearing conservative suits, summer dresses, or jeans and T-shirts. They were hereâacademics, scientists, cultists, proclaimed abductees, doctors and members of the general publicâalong with another four hundred people from across the country, to attend the society's third national conference on UFOs. So far the conference, which had begun this morning, had attracted only muted and balanced publicity. Thank goodness.
In a manner that Roberta recognized as customary, Garnet focused his piercing gaze on the audience until he had their full attention. A hush fell over the room, and he began.
“As many of you know, I have interacted with extraterrestrials several times, starting when I was a child of seven. The most recent incident, however, frightened me the most. Not only did the aliens subject me to a painful physical examination, but their actions revealed to me for the first time their sinister plans to enslave and use mankind.”
Garnet took a deep breath and launched into the story Roberta had heard at least a hundred times in the last two months. She couldn't help but notice the embellishments that had crept in, the layers of meaning he had added since his first terrified recounting of what had happened. Gazing at her boss as he held his audience spellbound, she wondered if he even realized what he'd done. Or perhaps, a small, cynical voice at the back of her mind said, he knew perfectly well.
After a few moments, Roberta stopped listening. She glanced at the other panelists, a female hypno-therapist from Los Angeles, a psychiatrist from Denver noted for his work with air force pilots, and a chemist from Phoenix. She could hardly wait to hear what they had to say, particularly the hypno-therapist.
Garnet had just begun the ascent to his frightening conclusion when the squeal of an opening door at the back of the meeting room cut him off. Scores of heads, Roberta's among them, swiveled to see who had dared to interrupt the acclaimed expert on alien abductions. Garnet glared at the latecomer.
The man, tall and dressed in a tailored gray suit and white shirt, did not appear the least bit cowed by Dr. Jones disapproval. With a faint shrug and a nod of his dark head, he sauntered over to a table holding water and glasses. As he settled himself, he reached into his breast pocket and drew out a pen and notebook. Only then did Roberta note the buff card identifying media on his lapel.
Garnet recomposed himself and continued. At the same instant, Roberta noted something alarmingly familiar about the reporter's appearance and easy smile. Last night's encounter in her apartment garden flashed through her head. She shuddered. No. Oh, no. It couldn't be! Could it possibly be her neighbor? The man who'd interrupted her frustrated pleading to any listening aliens?
