Seeing Love: Saints Protection & Investigations (9 page)

She jerked her head around, but he was staring straight ahead at the road, making it difficult to see the expression on his face. Not knowing exactly what he was asking, she hesitated. “Thinking? About…?”

“Miguel. The meeting,” he answered curtly.

She stared out of her passenger window at the trees flying by as the truck churned down the miles.

Bart said, softer this time, “Faith, I really want to know what you thought.”

“Why?” she could not help but ask.

He sighed heavily, knowing she was cautious considering he had done nothing but trash-talk her since finding out about her. Guilt ate at the corners of his consciousness.
Granddad would have been furious to know I’d spoken to a woman like that, even if he hadn’t believed her story.
“I’d like to hear what you’re thinking. I can feel your mind whirling ever since we got back in the truck. I’ve been running things through my mind and I…well, we’re supposed to be working on this together.”

The snort coming from her side of the truck cab let him know what she thought about his suggestion. The silence fell once more between them, this time thick and choking.

Closing her eyes and breathing deeply to clear her thoughts, she realized by keeping quiet she was doing to Bart what he had done to her and she no longer wanted to continue the battle. “I was thinking there was violence in that room.”

Bart fought the urge to give her a
duh
-look and continued his silence to see what else she would say.

“Miguel is hungry for more than what he has. He wants power and thinks the respect he craves will come with gaining more. He’s not above taking advantage of whatever opportunity that comes his way and if Krustas falls, he would be all over moving into the Norfolk waterfront.”

“But?” Bart prodded, knowing there was more she was feeling.

She fell silent again, turning to look at him. “Why are you asking? You think I’m a fraud making all this up.”

He finally responded, “Look, you’re a trained psychologist and seem to have a good grasp of people and motives. I don’t doubt your training. I don’t actually doubt your instincts. I just doubt your psychic abilities.”

In an instant he knew he had said the wrong thing as she exploded, “I never claimed to be psychic! Those are your words and I’m sick and tired of you throwing them at me! You decided I was a fraud. You decided that I was untrustworthy. All based on your background and prejudices. Throw in that medium that tried to scam your grandmother and now you’ve made up your mind about me without even learning anything about me.”.

“How did you know exactly what happened with my grandmother?” he growled.

“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe I am psychic,” she bit back. After a moment of tension, she sarcastically added, “Actually, I googled it and the article came up about what happened last summer.”

“You googled my grandmother?” he asked, his head snapping around. “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Maybe to find out why you’re such a prick to me!”

“It’s none of your business,” he pronounced.

“Oh yeah? And you haven’t tried to check me out?”

Starting to lie and deny it, he clamped his lips shut instead. The conversation died at that point, each retreating to their own mental corners. Bart flipped on the radio and, finding a country music station, turned the sound up secretly hoping she hated country music.

Faith leaned back in her seat once more, closing her eyes to the world. Choking back a smile, she began to relax. She loved country music.

*

Bart looked over
at Faith, sleeping next to him, angry at his desire to know her more warring with the desire to prove her false.
It’s true, she never claimed to be a psychic. But images? Impressions? What is she trying to gain from this if Krustas isn’t paying her?

He thought back to the meeting with Miguel.
Why did she ask how he felt when he heard a child had been kidnapped? She kept focusing on Miguel’s feelings when I wanted to know the facts.

Rubbing his hand over his face, he turned his gaze back to the road. They entered the Norfolk area and he knew there was nothing else they could do this evening.

Time was of the essence with Erik still missing. Mitch had set up a meeting for them tomorrow morning with the Volkov head and then in the afternoon with the Maldoni family. He was surprised the groups had agreed to meet but, Mitch had been persuasive.

She stirred in the seat next to him, stretching her legs and arms out in front of her. “Where are we?”

“You were out for about an hour. We’re in the Hampton Roads area now.”

“Where are we going to spend the night?” she asked. “I know your grandmother and parents live here, so you can just drop me off at a hotel if you want.”

He chuckled and said, “Love my grandmother, but I won’t stay there tonight.” Seeing her curious expression out of the corner of his eyes, he continued, “Nonnie loves to talk and well…I’d like to process the case tonight instead of answering her million questions about how Jude and Sabrina are settling in, how my job is going, and when I’m going to bring home a nice young lady of my own.”

Smiling, she commented, “She sounds delightful.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. She’s really a darling.”

Sighing, she admitted, “I miss having a grandmother.”

“I’m sorry, Faith. I…” Feeling like an ass, his voice trailed off, unsure what else to say.

“It’s okay. I was luckier than most to have had her for so long.” Not wanting to devolve into silence again, she said, “So what are we doing tonight?”

Uncharacteristically, Bart hesitated. “I…well, there’s a nice Bed & Breakfast Inn on the cape in Virginia Beach, not too far from where I was stationed as a SEAL. I thought we could stay there tonight unless you want something else.”

“No, no, that’s fine,” she admitted. “The sea air and a walk on the beach might be just the thing for me.”

“The weather’s chilly tonight.”

Smiling at him, she said, “No worries. I’ll be fine.” She recognized he had a natural protectiveness, regardless of what he may have thought about her.

They drove the last few miles, finally in a peaceful silence, each to their own thoughts but no longer filling the truck cab with animosity. Pulling into the driveway of the B&B, Faith peered out of the window at the charming three-story Cape Cod style house. Checking in, the grey-haired owner smiled at the two, greeting them warmly. Her twinkling eyes moved between them when he asked for two rooms, but her friendly smile never wavered. The comfortable home was decorated with every Christmas ornament imaginable. A nativity set was placed on the sideboard near the door. The front porch was covered with evergreens. A tree stood tall and proud in the living room. Little Christmas knick-knacks perched on shelves, tabletops, and cabinets with lights hung around each window.

Bart noticed Faith’s eyes jumped around to all of the decorations, her face glowing with childlike enthusiasm.

Walking to the top of the stairs, the owner opened a door on the left and Faith looked into the beautifully appointed bedroom. White paneling surrounded a queen-sized bed, with a pale yellow comforter, taking up most of one side of the room facing the windows offering an ocean view framed with fluttering yellow curtains. A small matching dresser and blue brocade chair completed the room.

“I hope this will be all right for you?” the proprietress, Mrs. Carswell, asked.

“Oh, the room is lovely!” Faith exclaimed. “I have no view outside my little efficiency apartment except for the brick wall of the building next door.”

“Well, then you should be very happy here.” Turning to Bart, the woman said, “You will be right next door with the same view. The bathroom is across the hall and breakfast will be served at eight a.m.”

Thanking her, Bart took his key and checked out his room. It was a copy of Faith’s except decorated with various blues as the color scheme and it sported a desk.

“I thought we could go out and grab something to eat in about an hour if you would like?” he asked.

Smiling back at him again, Faith nodded. “I’m going to take a walk down to the water. I’ll be back in plenty of time.”

Bart watched from his window as she made her way down the boarded path from the back of the property to the sandy beach. Grabbing his cell, he called Jack.

“What have you got for me?” he asked.

Jack chuckled, “Miguel thought you weren’t wired but then he didn’t expect what we had rigged, did he? I’ve got Cam, Luke, and Blaise still here going over the video feed and checking out his men.”

“He wants to play with the big boys but he’s still a small shit,” Bart growled.

“From what we could tell, Faith held her own well,” Cam added.

Bart knew his best friend was curious about how things were going, but Bart’s mind was whirling and he refused to agree or disagree at this stage. He glanced out of his window, seeing her walking with her pants legs rolled up, holding her shoes in her hands and dipping her toes into the cold water. “Yeah, she did. Kept her cool. Did exactly what I asked.”

“I’m still investigating her for you. So far, I’ve found nothing,” Luke added. “She lives frugally, works as a part-time art teacher in one of the elementary schools in the area and comes in to do police sketches when they call.”

Bart thought back to what she had said about her tiny apartment.
That doesn’t sound like someone telling fortunes and stealing from unsuspecting ones. So what’s her angle? Is she just a talented artist and thinks she has a special psychic gift?

“Keep looking. Before I trust anything that comes out of her mouth, I want to make damn sure she’s honest.”

For a few more minutes, the five men continued to conference until Bart saw Faith walking back up the path.

“Gotta go. I’ll report in tomorrow after we check out Volkov and Maldoni.”

By the time he quickly cleaned up in the bathroom, Faith was coming up the stairs. Her long, ebony hair was windblown and her cheeks were rosy from the breeze. His dick jumped to life but he willed it back down. Admitting to himself she might not be the swindler he originally thought she was, he was still uncertain about her purported gifts.

After taming her long hair, she asked him where they would eat dinner. “I don’t have any clothes for today other than what I’m wearing,” she mentioned, her voice trying to sound casual.

He immediately understood her reticence.
Nowhere fancy.
He appreciated her unspoken request to not go somewhere expensive, especially since it would have been on the Saint’s tab.

“I know a little seafood shack,” he said. “At least I hope it’s still there.”

The two of them walked the few blocks to a small restaurant at the end of the beach cove. The neon sign glared brightly against the weather-beaten wooden structure. Being a weekday evening, it was not crowded and Bart winked at the hostess as she showed them to a corner booth.

Faith looked over at her partner, once more amazed at how his body was showcased no matter what he wore. His shoulders and biceps appeared huge as the material of his sweater stretched over his muscles. It had been impossible to ignore the way his jeans stretched over his large thighs and his butt…
oh, my God—that butt!
Wiggling in her seat, she determined to push these thoughts out of her mind. She had not missed the wink.
Such a flirt…with everyone but me,
she thought ruefully. Shaking her head, she wondered why she wanted him to notice her.
It’s not like I’m interested in the big jerk.
As soon as the thought popped into her head, she knew she was lying to herself.
Yeah, I am interested. And he’s not such a jerk when he’s being nice. But me? That’ll never happen. I refuse to be another notch on his bedpost!

By the time the food came, the bland topics of conversation had been exhausted and Faith was tired of pretending the elephant was not in the room. Looking at the handsome, yet irritating, man sitting across from her, distractingly pushing his hand through his hair once more, she decided to plunge in.

“Bart, we’re here together and we haven’t mentioned the case one single time. I know your brain is on the mission, but I’d like to be involved as well.” Seeing him about to speak, she threw her hands up in defense. “And I mean talk about the case. Not argue about what perceived notions you have about me that are false. Can we do that?”

Sheepishly he looked over at the woman sitting across from him. The thought of so many women he picked up over the years, not wanting to talk at all but just get back to their place for some quick down and dirty fucking, flashed through his mind. Some wanted more than the night he offered, but he could not remember the last time he had dinner with a woman and they only talked. With no thought of sex afterward.

His silence embarrassed her. “Fine, forget I said anything,” she huffed.

Jolted out of his musings, he said, “No, no. I’m sorry. I was lost in thought. I’d like to talk about the case.” He saw her eying him warily. “I promise, no arguing tonight.”

Nodding, she said, “You wondered what I thought earlier.”

“Yeah, I did. I was questioning him about what he knew about the kidnapping and when he knew about it. I was…well, looking for facts.”