Deadly Forecast: A Psychic Eye Mystery (31 page)

Dutch had never spoken a word about it, for which I was immensely grateful, but there
were times when people would ask about my family—where they lived and such—and I’d
see his jaw clench and his eyes darken…. The way they were now, right across from
me at the dinner table.

Viv was also staring at me expectantly, but before I could answer her question, Dutch
snapped, “Viv. Don’t.”

She looked at him sharply and for a moment there was some tension at the table until
Mrs. Rivers put a gentle hand over Aunt Viv’s and leaned over to say to me, “Dutch
took us by the new house today. Such a beautiful home! And so many bedrooms to fill!
You’ll have guest rooms galore unless you two decide after you’ve been together for
a year or two to fill it with the happy sounds of a little one.”

My forced smile ratcheted up another notch, and I saw Dutch signal to the waiter.
“We’d like a bottle of wine,” he said. “As soon as you can, please.”

*   *   *

L
ater that night after we’d dropped his mom and Viv off at their hotel and made it
through our own front door, Dutch apologized. “I told them both not to ask about your
folks,” he said.

“It’s fine, sweetie.”

“I can’t believe she said that to you,” he muttered irritably.

I turned to him after flicking on the light switch and put my arms around him. “It’s
enough that you get it, cowboy. I promise.”

He squeezed me tight. “Are you really ready to marry into this family?”

My radar hummed. There was still something dark swirling in the ether, hovering so
close I felt I could almost touch it. It came around every time Dutch mentioned the
two of us getting married, and try as I might to shoo it away, it kept coming back.
I felt a horrible foreboding, and something close to certainty that no matter how
much I wanted it—Dutch and I weren’t going to walk down the aisle together. His life
still felt in danger, and that elusive threat was so close to him I felt I could taste
it, but try as I might, I couldn’t identify it. A tremor curled up my spine and I
shivered.

“Abs?” Dutch asked, and I realized he had stepped away from me and was holding me
at arm’s length with concern in his eyes.

I blinked. “What?”

“What?” he repeated. “Honey, I just asked you if you were ready to marry me.”

I shook my head to clear it. “Oh! Yes. Of course I am.”

Dutch stared at me for several seconds and I saw the concern fade to hurt. “You sure?”
His eyes were pinned to mine, forcing me to look at him.

I didn’t look away. “I am.”

“Then what’s up?”

I bit my lip. “I don’t know. It just feels like…”

“Like what?” I was quiet, letting my gaze drop to the floor while I tried to put what
I was feeling into words, and Dutch reached up to lift my chin with his fingers. “Babe…please,
talk to me.”

I pushed myself back into his arms and as I did so, a horrible realization hit me.
It was so terrible that my breath caught and I squeezed him tight and closed my eyes.
“It’s nothing!” I whispered a bit desperately.

Dutch sighed. “Dollface…this can’t be nothing.”

“Please, Dutch!” I couldn’t talk about it. I couldn’t even say another word because
the thing in the ether that I’d just touched on, the thing that couldn’t possibly
be true, was that the threat to Dutch’s life wasn’t coming from an unknown source.
It was coming from me.

*   *   *

T
he next morning I was out of the house well before sunrise. I had an almost mounting
panic fueling me to put some distance between Dutch and me. I couldn’t explain it,
but intuitively I knew he was in danger and I was somehow the cause.

The only person who might understand was Candice, and I went searching for her. I
found her in the basement gym of her condo building, working out with a set of kettlebells
that looked like cannonballs while Brice ran on the treadmill. Seeing me, she immediately
put down the kettlebell and grabbed her towel. “What’s happened?”

I glanced at Brice. He was running at a really good clip with his iPod earbuds in
his ears and he hadn’t even noticed my entrance. “I need to talk to you,” I told Candice.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” she said, taking my arm to lead me out of the area so we wouldn’t
be disturbed by the noisy sounds of the gym.

“Nothing has happened per se.”

“Sundance,” she said skeptically, “it’s five forty-five on a Monday morning. You don’t
get out of bed at this hour for anything less than an act of God.
Something
must’ve happened.”

“I have a bad feeling…,” I began.

Candice nodded, waiting me out.

“It’s about me and Dutch.”

“An argument?”

“No. Nothing like that. I can’t put my finger on it, Candice, but I think I need to
spend a little time away from him.”

Candice’s brow lifted. “Away from him? Don’t you think that’s gonna be a little difficult
with the wedding coming up this weekend?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. Which is why I need to stay with you. If that’s okay?”

Candice stared at me for a full minute, and I could sense that she might be thinking
the wrong thing about Dutch and me. “It’s not what you think,” I said. “I just don’t
know that I’m good for him to be around right now, and I have to figure out why.”

“Of course you can stay with us,” she said. “As long as you’re okay with sleeping
on the couch?”

“I am.”

“What’re you going to say to Dutch?”

I sighed. “I’m not sure yet. I might use the old ‘groom shouldn’t see the bride before
the wedding’ excuse.”

“Your wedding’s not for five days, honey. Don’t you think that’s a long time for Dutch
to go without seeing you?”

“Well, I was also hoping that I could hang out with you today and tell Dutch that
we’re doing wedding stuff and working the case.”

“Don’t you have your final walk-through with Dave at the new house today?” Candice
asked.

“Yeah, but Dutch can do that on his own.”

“Won’t he think that’s weird?”

I rubbed my face tiredly. “I don’t know, Candice. If he does, he does. He’ll get over
it.”

“Hey, Cooper!” a male voice said behind me.

I jumped. “Good morning,” I said, turning to him. I could feel my face flush. Seeing
my boss all sweaty and in clingy workout gear tended to make me uncomfortable.

Brice mopped his face with a towel. “What brings you by so early?”

“Abby’s going to be staying with us for a few days,” Candice said quickly.

Brice’s eyes widened and he looked from me to Candice, who in return narrowed her
eyes at him as if saying, “Don’t ask why or protest….”

“That’s great!” he said, nodding and pushing up the wattage of his smile.

We all stood around for a few seconds in an uncomfortable silence before Brice cleared
his throat and said, “I better get upstairs for a shower. See you two later?”

Candice leaned forward and gave him a kiss. “We’ll be up in a few. Don’t take all
the hot water, okay?”

He grinned at her and waved good-bye to me. Once he’d left, I said, “I’m really sorry.
I know I’ll be cramping your style, but I don’t know what else to do.”

Candice reached into the small wristband around her forearm and pulled up a key. “Here,”
she said. “Make yourself at home. I’m gonna finish my workout and I’ll be up in half
an hour.”

I pushed the key back. No way did I want to be alone with Brice while he showered.
What if he walked out naked thinking he was alone? “I’m gonna go up to the coffee
shop and think about what I’m going to say to Dutch. Then I’ll probably head to the
office. Meet you there later?”

Candice’s expression was both sympathetic and filled with concern. “I’ll meet you
at the café in forty-five minutes. We can figure this out together, okay?”

I felt my throat tighten with unbidden emotion. Candice was such a great friend. She
always seemed to know what to say, and she’d always had my back whenever I’d needed
her. It meant the world to me. “Thanks, Cassidy.”

She reached out and squeezed my arm. “Hang in there, honey. It’ll all turn out okay.”

I was filled again with that same jolt of foreboding that’d been haunting me for days,
and I knew, deep down, that it wouldn’t be okay, but no way was I going to say that
out loud. “Sure,” I said anyway, my voice hollow and flat to my own ears. “Of course
it will. See you soon.”

With that, I turned away before the tears took over and Candice saw the tidal wave
of fear in my eyes.

G
illey’s misty eyes were filled with fear as he sat frozen next to M.J. while Dutch’s
car raced down the street. M.J. reached out to squeeze his hand because she knew that
he wasn’t so good in situations like this, but then, who was?

Dutch gunned the motor all the way down the street, then screeched to a halt in front
of the red house on the corner. Shoving the car hard into park, he bolted out and
toward the front door with Candice hot on his heels.

M.J. told Gilley to stay put before pushing her way out of the car too. She and Brody
ran side by side to the door just as it was opened by a red-haired woman with pale
skin and ice-blue eyes. “I’m on the phone with the police!” she yelled the minute
the door was opened. M.J. could see her house phone at her ear. Ellen, the store clerk,
had obviously called to warn her that trouble was on the way.

“I am the police,” Dutch barked, snatching the phone and throwing it across the lawn.
When the woman—who was obviously Margo—took a step back and attempted to shut the
door, Dutch jammed his foot in the doorway and shoved it open.

“Mrs. Dudek!” Brody called from behind M.J. “It’s me! Brody Watson! Rita’s son.”

Margo’s gaze darted to Brody and when she saw him, she stopped struggling with the
door and leaned forward. “Brody?” she gasped. “Honey, is that you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Brody said.

“Oh, sweetie,” Margo said, her eyes filling with tears. “I’ve been crying and crying
about your mom.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Brody said, and Margo seemed to once again become aware of
the four people on her doorstep.

“What’s going on?” she said, recovering herself and quickly turning defensive.

“Mrs. Dudek,” M.J. said, stepping forward with her palms raised to show her they meant
no harm. “Please, can we speak with you? It’s literally a matter of life and death.”

“Who’re you?” Margo demanded, taking another step back as if she thought she might
be in danger again.

“My name is M. J. Holliday, and I’m a psychic medium. As you know, your friend Rita
was murdered by someone wanting to cause many people harm, and we”—M.J. pointed to
everyone on the front lawn—“believe that one of our friends has been taken hostage
by this same person and she’s in imminent danger.”

Margo’s lids blinked rapidly. M.J. knew that was a lot to take in, so to cut to the
chase she reached out to Rita for some proof. “Rita’s spirit sent us to you,” she
said calmly, her hands still raised.

“Her spirit?” Margo repeated. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Mrs. Dudek,” Brody said. “Please? Just listen, okay?”

Margo frowned, but she nodded too, so M.J. continued. “To prove to you that Rita’s
spirit really did send us, she’s asking me to mention the leopard print.”

Margo’s expression became incredulous. “The
what
?”

“I think she’s referring to a specific conversation you two had not too long ago.
She’s telling me you two were here, having coffee. You have a room in the back of
this house with a bay window that looks out onto a water feature, right?”

Margo’s jaw fell open. “My kitchen nook has a bay window and it looks out onto a small
fountain.”

M.J. nodded. “Rita says that she came here to have coffee and to seek your advice
about something. She says you told her to wear the leopard print, and she says your
advice worked.”

“Oh…my…God…,” Margo gasped, shaking her head at the same time. And then her eyes flickered
to Brody. “That’s not something she ever would’ve shared with you, Brody, but this
one time your mom was really interested in the UPS delivery guy, and she wanted him
to ask her out, so I told her to wear something sexy, like a leopard print bra, and
when he came into her shop, she needed to just lean forward and show him the goods.
He’d ask her out for sure.”

“You mean Gary?” Brody asked. “The guy she dated last year who worked for UPS?”

Margo nodded. “I’d forgotten all about that,” she said. Suddenly her face flushed
red and she began to sweat. Her breathing quickened too, and it became clear that
she was having a hard time dealing with the sudden realization that her dear friend
was talking to her from the beyond.

“M.J.,” Dutch said low, his fists clenched with impatience.

“We need your help, Margo,” M.J. said urgently. “Rita needs to ask you about a man
who came into her salon. Someone who confronted her, thinking she was you.”

Margo’s eyes fluttered with confusion. Her face became even more flushed and she was
panting hard and waving a hand in front of her face. M.J. was worried that Margo was
starting to
hyperventilate. Behind them she could also hear the sound of sirens, and she knew
the police were on their way to the house. “Margo!” M.J. said sharply, hoping to snap
her out of the panic attack she was clearly in the throes of. “I need you to focus!
Rita told you about a man who came to the salon looking for you. A man she might’ve
gotten into an argument with.”