a Touch of Ice (29 page)

“Yeah. What do you say—no more spying on each other, hiding things?”

“Deal. I’ll have my cell phone with me. Call me when you break free from the red tape.”

“Will do.” She glanced at Pierce. “Ready when you are,” she said as she picked up her backpack.

Pierce didn’t say anything, but his lips twitched in my direction before he glanced over at Annie. The communication was silent. She slid her weapon out of a kitchen drawer, tucked it in a holster at her ankle.

“Seriously,” she said to me, “why don’t you go on one of those retreat things? It’ll take Pete Williams time to finish your front door and our new deck. I’ll rest easier if I know the media can’t find you.”

Mitch snapped his phone closed and came up behind me. “I opted out of the assignment.” He wrapped his arm around me, tucking me snugly against his chest. “The timing on this sucks and I don’t want you to be alone, especially not with the press hungry for a scoop.”

I looked at him and apprehension prickled along my nerves. He’d never turned down an assignment that I knew of. “What’s the deal?”

“I’m thinking some one-on-one time at my place is in order.”

“Your place?”

“Uh-huh. Remember the house you wandered through without invitation? The one with the view of the sky from the bedroom? Moonlight? Stars?”

“You’re asking me to stay with you?”

“Yeah. Until this blows over. Maybe longer.”

Wow. Longer. Okay then. I was so not prepared for this, and scrambled for words. “Sounds…like a good plan. But I’ll need time at my retreat house too, time alone to sort through all this, until we see…how…compatible we are.”

He pulled me tight against his chest. “Yeah. Compatible. Don’t want to pass up an opportunity to explore compatibility.”

The rumble of his laughter echoed in his chest and a warm sensation melted through my tension. I wasn’t ready for a permanent live-in relationship, but I wasn’t ready to be alone either. It would be good to divide my time between Mitch’s house and my parents’ retreat. The best of both options.

We left en masse, by way of the front door to protect me from any wayward media people that might be lying in wait. No one jumped out of the bushes to take pictures, so I could only assume my name and address weren’t known. Yet.

I shed my jacket, tossed it in the back seat of my Bug, and locked the car doors—without getting in.

Three sets of eyes stared at me.

“I’m going down to the greenway to take a walk before I head to Mitch’s house. Not long.”

I was way overdue for my backwards walk. In a very short time, I’d radically changed my typical behavior patterns, and now I wanted to spend some time integrating the changes.

I looked at the three of them standing there not knowing what to do with me. It was nice. After all we’d been through, they still wanted to protect me.

Misplaced, but nice.

“I’m—” Annie started.

Pierce shot her a look, wrapped his arm around me for a hug, took Annie’s hand and led her to his truck. “Say goodbye to the people.”

She ran back, gave me one last hug, jumped in the truck, and they were gone.

I felt Mitch behind me, leaned into him. “I’ll meet you at your house.”

He rested his chin on my head, wrapped his arms around me, then let me go.

“There aren’t any strings, Sunshine. We’ll take it slow and easy.”

I breathed out a sigh I didn’t know I’d been holding. I wasn’t ready. Not yet. I stretched onto tiptoes, pressing my lips gently against his, then I turned and started down the path to the greenway. “Hey, Mitch?” I called as I tossed my hair and sent him a full-on smile. “Slow and easy has infinite possibilities.”

Sometime later—

I was sitting in my tree house, thinking over the past few weeks, what I’d touched, and what happened as a result of setting my fingers free. It was a lot to consider.

The rumble of an engine sounded in the driveway then stilled to silence. A car door slammed, and moments later Pierce climbed up the ladder and poked his head inside the tree house. “How’s it going?” he asked, making himself at home on the floor next to me.

“Good. I’m finding perspective and balance, without the use of charge cards.”

“Am I supposed to understand that?”

“Probably not.”

He reached for my hand. I pulled back and blinked at him. “You want to touch my hand? Have you seriously thought about that?”

“No, guess not. How about if I touch you someplace less dangerous?”

“Danger depends on your point of view.”

“Um-hum,” he agreed sliding his finger under the edge of my t-shirt. “Lie back. I need access to your navel.”

“My navel?”

“Belly jewel. Navel. They go together.” He held up a sparkling gem.

“Ummmm?” I leaned back on my elbows and focused on the diamond in his fingers.

Pierce removed the gold ring that had been adorning my navel for some ten years, tucked it in his pocket, and in its place slid a perfect, round diamond.

“Wow. Why?”

He winked at me and disappeared down the stairs.

Coming soon

a Touch of TNT

L. j. Charles

One

“I’ve lost it, haven’t I? Gone completely unhinged? Never mind. It’s obvious that I have or I wouldn’t be here.”

“You agreed to the chief’s request, shook hands on it, Everly, so listen up. There are two companies involved: C.J. Builders and North Construction. Both owners have denied any knowledge of the sabotage, and neither is inclined to cooperate with law enforcement. Too busy. Too arrogant. Too dishonest. Although, that last one remains to be proven.”

The morning heat colored everything with a hazy lassitude that made it hard to suck in a breath.

“It’s like looking at pictures of a war-torn country.”

I turned to face my temporary boss, Detective Adam Stone. The sun sparkled against his short blond hair giving him an angelic aura. A definite misconception, even if he was the brother of my best friend and neighbor, Annie Stone.

“All I know is that it’s too damn hot.” He unbuttoned his shirtsleeves and rolled them, then pushed his sunglasses tight against the bridge of his nose. “And that comment about pictures tells me you have Mitch on your mind instead of solving crimes.”

He had me there. Mitchell Hunt was definitely on my mind and under my skin. “He’s been away on assignment for two long weeks. One of those government things because he didn’t tell me where he was going.”

Mitch and I have been an item for a while. He does freelance photography, mostly for the military, taking pictures of situations that are of political interest. It makes building a relationship tough, because he’s frequently called away without notice and I spend too much time wondering where in the world he is—literally.

Adam tapped me on the shoulder. “Hey. What’s with you? Where’d you go?”

“Mitch will be home tonight. I’m excited. And scared. There’s always an adjustment thing when we first see each other. Makes me a little crazy, or maybe it’s just the heat.”

I shook off the slither of unease creeping down my spine and replaced it with a bubbly smile. “Sorry to have lost focus. Is there a certain place you want me to start, or shall I follow my fingers?”

“Fingers. They’re why the chief called you in, and I’ve been over this pile of rubble several times. Came up with buttkus.” He picked up a small, misshapen piece of concrete, hauled back and tossed it into the rubble. The sharp clunk of it landing against a scrap of metal echoed in the quiet of the late-morning stillness. Adam. Cranky. Not the best situation.

“Right,” I said, trying to feel through the waves of heat that gave the wreckage a surreal appearance. I closed my eyes and the tip of my index finger found the diamond nestled in my navel, rubbed it through the fabric of my shirt. My good luck talisman. I needed a sign, something to guide me, but nada. Not a single clue, intuitive or rational, popped into my head. Not surprising since most of my psychic ability was centered in my fingertips.

Looked like I was going to have to tackle this sooty, messy, pile of debris the hard way. “I’m going to start over there.” I pointed toward a large slice of board sticking up from the rubble. “Maybe it’s the sharpness, or that it stands out from the rest of this mess, but what the heck, I have to touch something.”

“I’m right behind you.” The change in his pocket jingled as he jumped down from a thigh-high mound of debris. I’d taken a less active path. Annie’s borrowed sneakers weren’t up to a whole lot of scrabbling, and they were a good half size too small. Still, I was grateful she kept them in Adam’s car because I’d opted for heeled sandals and a short skirt this morning—trying to look professional for my meeting with Chief Hayes. What can I say? I’m a Libra and we do enjoy our sexy shoes. Given the circumstances, my Doc Martens would have been a better choice.

The piece of wood that had caught my attention loomed over me, jagged and scorched, reminiscent of something from a science fiction movie. I set my fingers against it and got a single, hazy image. “All I see is the fire. And there’s the sensation of an explosion and intense heat.”

Adam grunted, jotted down some notes. I didn’t tell him about the ripple of apprehension that crawled over my skin. There was something hinky about the image, and not from the wreckage per se. It was how my fingertips picked up the picture, all foggy around the edges. That had never happened before. My fingers had always transmitted clear, precise images.

I moved to a different spot on the charred wood hoping to get some more helpful information. “Okay. I’m seeing a guy with a hardhat, burly, construction worker, looks like the stereotype. Weird. The blast should’ve altered the energy field too much for me to catch any pre-explosion images.”

This picture was hazy too. The anomaly sent another blast of anxiety through my body. I shook it off. Probably had something to do with the heat wave that had captured North Carolina for the past week.

“You’re on target. The builder sent their best people to check things out after the arson team was done.” He pulled off his shades and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Headache?” I asked as I smoothed my skirt tight against my thighs and hunkered down to touch the ground.

“Yeah. This case is a bear.” He slid his glasses back on. “Whatcha got?”

“Same thing. I don’t know, Adam. I’m not getting anything you can use. Maybe my gift isn’t right for this kind of work.”

I stood and lifted my hair off my neck. A light breeze stirred, helped to cool the sweat that had pooled along my neckline. I transferred the fistful of hair to one hand, slid my other hand in my skirt pocket searching for a clip. No luck. I sighed and dropped the heavy mass of damp curls as I moved to the other side of the hunk of wood, reached out and touched.

“Okay, this is different. I’m seeing a person in a black outfit with a hood. Totally covered.” I shook my head. “That doesn’t make any sense does it? And he seems to be…crying.”

“Not probable. Something’s off with you today.”

How the hell was I going to work with the cop shop if they didn’t believe what my fingers “saw?”
Not that I didn’t agree with him, but still. And this was Adam. He’d worked with my gift before, accepted it. I shivered, the sensation of goose bumps all wrong in the intense heat of the day. This image had been off too. What could be wrong with my fingers? Damn. I shoved the panic into the cellar of my mind, and shut the door. Later. I’d deal with the panic later.

“That’s what I see.” The edge in my voice was palpable, sounded harsh against my ears. “Guess the heat’s getting to me. Who would be wearing a hood in this weather?” I muttered, and then faced him, shaded my eyes with my hand. “I think we should stop, at least until it cools down. Maybe come back tomorrow?”

Sweat trickled down Adam’s face and the sun had turned his fair skin an unhealthy shade of pink. “Pick you up at six tomorrow morning. No way in hell am I reporting back to Hayes with a whole lot of nothing.”

As soon as I got home, I gulped down an icy glass of water, and then got busy creating a salad. By the time I’d added fresh herbs, avocado, pecans, cranberries, mushrooms and garbanzo beans to a bag of baby greens, there was way too much food for one person—so I did my usual speed dial for Annie.

She answered on the first ring. “How’d it go this morning with the Chief and Adam?”

“Okay. No. That’s a lie and...look, I made a huge bowl of salad. Want to join me for lunch and hear the unfortunate details?”

“On my way.”

“Perfect,” I said to the buzz of a dial tone. Annie spent a bunch of years working for one of those secret three-letter government agencies, but nowadays she has a successful private inquiry business that puts her skills to good use. She accepts my hinky touch thing and I accept her secrecy. Sort of.

Her footsteps clattered on the stairs just as the microwave dinged. I pulled out the warm sourdough rolls then set them on the table with a crock of butter.

One end of my kitchen bumps out into a bay window creating just enough room for a tall, round table and four chairs. Yesterday I picked up a bouquet of pink, red, blue, and purple anemones—their soft, black centers a sharp contrast with my asymmetrical purple and red pottery. The table looked great—except, no dishes or napkins. I spun around to grab them.

The delicious fragrance of warm chocolate followed Annie into my kitchen. “What’d you bring,” I asked as I lifted the blue-checked cloth covering the basket in her hand. “Oooohhh. Brownies.” I took a deep breath, savoring the scent and my taste buds prickled with anticipation. Annie made the best brownies, gooey, with pecans and a caramel drizzle.

She put her finger on my nose and pushed me back, away from the basket. “Salad first.”

I looked at her. Really looked. “You cut your hair. Ohmygod! You didn’t tell me. We always talk about radical hair changes.”

The heat wave was having an unusual effect on all of us. Yesterday Annie had shoulder length, blonde hair and looked all feminine and sexy as hell. “It’s short. Really short.”

I circled her taking in the new hairstyle from every angle, reached out to ruffle the curls that were only about three inches long. “You know, I think it looks really good. But it’s going to be a terrible annoyance when you try to buy adult beverages.”

“I know.” She took the napkins out of my hand. “I didn’t mean to let him do this when I went in for my regular trim this morning, but it was so hot outside, it just happened. I haven’t gotten used to it yet I’m liking the feel of a bare neck. And the innocent look. Wonder if I can come up with a sweet expression to go with it?”

“Have you forgotten who you are? I mean the part about being a retired sniper?” I asked.

She eyed me over the rim of a soda can. “There is that.”

“Uh-huh,” I continued. “The very excellent ex-agent who saved my life not so long ago.”

“Had to save you. I wasn’t ready to give up these great salads,” she mumbled around a mouthful of lettuce.

I hadn’t taken a bite. Couldn’t seem to stop staring at the new Annie. She shot me a green-eyed glare, so I picked up my fork and speared some salad. “I like the hair a lot, but I hate that you did it without me. A major transition and I missed it. ”

“You were busy at the station. What do you think Adam’s gonna say about it?”

“I, um, think you maybe want to ask a different question. Adam will say you look just like his little sister, which you are, so no surprise there.”

“And what is this question you think I should be asking?”

“Oh, maybe how your hunky beau, Sean Martin will like it?”

She gave me an eye roll. “What’s the scoop on your meeting with the Chief?”

“Changing the subject, much?”

She licked her lips and shoveled in another bite of salad.

“It won’t do any good to ignore me because eventually you’ll explode if you don’t spill about Sean.”

“The chief? Adam? Stay on topic, huh?”

“Adam is babysitting me as we check out sites of industrial demolition. It seems there’s been an unexplained bunch of construction problems lately, and Chief Hayes is having a hard time with the whys and wherefores.”

“So he asked you to help?”

“Against his better judgment and totally at odds with his common sense, yes he did.”

“Don’t hold it against Hayes, El. He’s a fair man, you know that. I’ll give him a call, see if there’s any way I can help out.”

“That’d be great. And I know he’s a good guy, but sometimes I get tired of being strange.”

There was a pile of crumbled sourdough roll on my plate. Embarrassing. I pushed the rest of the role aside, picked up my fork and stabbed another mouthful of salad then just gave up and started clearing the table.

“Something happened.” Annie caught my arm. “You’re face is all pinched like you’re about to hyperventilate, and you didn’t eat.”

“There’s something wrong with my fingers.”

Annie swallowed, watched me, her gaze wary. “With the magic?”

“Yeah. Hazy images. Never happened before. And then there was…”

She wiggled her fingers in a come-on gesture.

“It wasn’t anything. Really. Okay, so maybe something. When I left the chief’s office this morning I snagged my heel on a bit of loose carpet, lost my balance and grabbed the doorframe.”

Annie sucked in a breath. “Uh-oh. What’d you see?”

“An officer with a nasty, smug expression. The image held a strong sensation that he’d gotten away with a whopping big lie. And he was…odd. Or maybe it’s me. All of the images I’ve gotten today have been…foggy.”

“Help me understand. Foggy is bad?”

“Yeah, scary bad.”

That nagging sliver of unease worked its way into my brain again, and opened the cellar of my mind.

Okay, I know you’re freaked but there’s probably nothing you can do about the foggy, it being a gift and all.” Annie wrinkled her nose. “Was there anything concrete about the officer that you could share with the chief?”

“Not a thing, so I took the silent way out. Didn’t say anything to either Adam or Hayes. Probably it’s no big thing. The Chief is smart and will catch the guy if it’s anything serious.”

“Hmmm. True, and officers lie just like the rest of the population. I’m more concerned about why you think this guy is odd?”

“Don’t know exactly. It was a dark night, cemetery, goose bumpy sensation. Nothing rational, so I’m thinking it’s best to forget it.”