Chapter Eleven
Eleven
She came out of the trance on an adrenaline tide and hastily raised one hand to make sure her sunglasses were securely in place.
The daytime readings were accompanied by less psychic blowback—something to do with the natural ebb and flow of energy currents, according to Bea—but they were not a walk in the park.
She realized Bruce was pressed against her right leg. He watched her, ears sharp, amber eyes intent.
She patted the top of his head and glanced at Luke. He, too, was watching her, his expression unreadable.
She turned to Mack, who was leaning against the fender of his car, arms folded. Like her, he was wearing dark glasses. Cop glasses. She sensed his wariness but also his determination.
“That’s all I can tell you,” she said, dropping back into her normal voice. “You’re right. This was murder. In my vision, the killer appears quite suddenly on the side of the road, so he probably brought the body here in the trunk of a car. He dragged it into the ditch and left it.”
“You’re sure the killer was a man and that he was alone?” Mack asked.
“I’m certain that the person who left the body here was a man. I can’t be absolutely positive that he was alone. All I can tell you is that no one else appeared in the vision. It’s possible there was another person in the car, but I doubt it.”
“Why?” Luke asked before Mack could.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “It’s just a feeling. The killer seemed to be working alone and in a great hurry. Excited. He didn’t interact with anyone else. No one helped him get the body out of the vehicle.”
She pulled up the collar of the down coat. The adrenaline would wear off soon and the chills would follow. “I realize that’s not very helpful, Mack.”
“You’ve confirmed that this was murder, that the killer dumped the body here, and that he was in a hurry,” Mack said.
“That’s enough for now.” He hesitated, studying her intently through his own dark glasses.
“Unless there was anything to suggest that the killer or the victim might have been local?”
He really was a good cop, she thought. His intuition was telling him that she knew more than she had let on. She stuck to a narrow version of the truth.
“I’m as certain as I can be that the killer was not local,” she said. “It feels like the site of the body dump was chosen at random.”
“Or maybe because it was sure to be found,” Luke suggested quietly.
Mack nodded. “Yeah.” He unfolded his arms and straightened away from the vehicle. “I need an ID on the victim. There’s usually a connection with the killer.”
“Yes,” Luke said.
Sophy nodded in agreement, but she didn’t try to speak, because she was feeling a little shaky. She realized Luke was moving closer to her. Alarmed, she tried to step back. This was no time to risk unleashing the storm winds of their auras. Not in front of an audience.
Luke draped an arm casually around her shoulders.
For a heartbeat she hovered on the knife edge that separated panic from thrilling anticipation.
She braced herself for the heat and fire of the connection.
Maybe it would not be as strong in the daylight.
Paranormal energy was always more powerful after dark.
But this time Luke did not overwhelm her aura. Instead, his energy field whispered to hers. Intimate. Comforting. Warm. The shaky feeling subsided.
Mack watched them for a moment, then he opened the car door. “That does it for now. I’ll be on my way. You can get back to your missing persons case.” He paused before he got into the driver’s seat and looked at Luke. “About those missing persons. Have they been reported to the police?”
“No,” Luke said. “It’s a private matter. The families don’t want the authorities involved. They think it’s a runaway lovers situation.”
Mack nodded, evidently satisfied. “Got it. Couple of kids decided to hit the road together. The families want to avoid the publicity.”
“Yes,” Luke said.
Mack looked at Sophy. “Thanks for taking a look at the scene.”
“You’re welcome,” she said.
Mack smiled a humorless smile. “Almost like old times.”
She let that slide.
“Good luck convincing your boss you’ve got a case,” Luke said.
Mack grimaced. “Thanks. Sophy, give me a call if you think of anything else that might be helpful.”
“Okay,” she said.
Luke waited until Mack had driven away before he spoke.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes.” She took a beat to process that simple fact. “Yes, I’m fine. Thanks. Your ability to resonate with my aura is handy.” She took a breath. “But it felt different this time. Not so overwhelming.”
“Last night you took me by surprise.” He took his arm off her shoulders. “And that’s an understatement. You weren’t the only one who got swept up in that wild thunderstorm. But this morning I had a better idea of what to expect. You can ditch the sunglasses now.”
She hesitated and then slowly reached up with both hands to slip off the dark glasses.
Luke’s eyes heated in a way that sent a seductive thrill across her nerves.
She didn’t need the physical contact now—the chills had receded—but she missed the warm weight of his arm.
She could get used to his touch. That was probably not good news.
“Sadly, this isn’t the time or place,” he said. “We need to focus.”
She decided it would be a very dumb idea to explore that cryptic statement. She dropped the mirrored shades into the pocket of her coat and picked up the cat-eye glasses dangling on the chain around her neck.
“I told Mack the truth,” she said, positioning the frames firmly on her nose. “But not all of it.”
“I know. What else have you got?”
“I’m pretty sure the victim was the man who was murdered in Deke’s cabin. The killer was the smoking ghost.” She winced. “I mean, the killer was the man who smoked in the cabin.”
Luke surveyed the landscape with a thoughtful expression. “Was the smoking ghost the one who dumped the body?”
“He wasn’t a real ghost,” she said coldly.
“I know,” he said, unconcerned.
She sighed and adjusted her glasses. “Yes, Smoking Ghost left the body here. I think he threw away a cigarette after he dragged the victim across the pavement.”
“Let’s see if Bruce can find it.”
Luke took the small baggie of cigarette butts out of the pocket of his jacket, unzipped it, and held it out to Bruce.
“Search, pal,” Luke said.
Bruce tensed with excitement and immediately began sniffing the brush at the side of the road.
“Is he a search and rescue dog?” Sophy asked, intrigued.
“I don’t know,” Luke said. “I think he’s had some kind of high-end military or security training, but it’s not like any I’ve ever come across. It’s almost as if he can read my mind at times.”
“All animals have a psychic vibe. Everyone knows that.”
Luke smiled. “They do?”
She frowned. “You don’t know anything about his past?”
“No. I found him on a mountain road about three months ago.”
“Abandoned?”
“I don’t know. He wasn’t chipped. Hard to believe anyone would dump a smart dog like Bruce. But people are strange.” Luke paused. “He’d been shot.”
“No.” She was horrified.
“A farmer probably caught him stealing chickens. The vet who removed the bullet suggested I take him to a shelter, but that didn’t seem like a good idea to Bruce or to me. So here we are, three months later.”
They watched Bruce stop abruptly and sit down, golden eyes intent on Luke. The dog grinned a canine grin that revealed his impressive fangs.
“Looks like he found something,” Sophy said.
Luke went forward, crouched, and pointed to a half-smoked cigarette. He rubbed Bruce’s neck. “Nice work. Thanks, pal.”
Sophy could have sworn Bruce looked smug. She could imagine him thinking the canine equivalent of You think finding that was hard? I could have done it with my eyes closed. Which, given that he was a dog and therefore relied heavily on his nose, was probably true.
Luke used a fallen leaf to scoop up what was left of the cigarette and transfer it to the baggie. He stood up.
“Same brand as the ones in the cabin,” he said.
“A stranger is murdered by another stranger in Deke’s cabin and Deke and Bea are apparently on the run. I still can’t get past the idea that those two were—are—having an affair. It feels so…so un-Aunt-Bea-like.”
Luke snorted. “And here my grandmother was convinced that Deke would never be able to overcome the loss of his wife.”
“Your uncle’s wife died a few years ago, didn’t she?”
“She was murdered.”
“I see. I hadn’t realized. Was the killer caught?”
“He died of natural causes before an arrest could be made.”
“Natural causes?”
“That’s what the authorities put down on the death certificate.”
So maybe the causes had not been entirely natural, she thought. Deke was a Wells, after all. There was probably more than one CIA assassin in the family. She cleared her throat. “Whatever. The situation must have been very traumatic for your uncle.”
“It was.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe he’s using my aunt as a convenient distraction. If he’s taking advantage of Bea in an attempt to help him forget his wife’s death—”
“What if your aunt is the one who’s using my uncle?”
“No.”
“Hell, maybe they’re using each other.” Luke gestured toward the woods and the lake in the distance. “It’s not as if a single person has a lot of options in a town this small.”
“Now just one damn minute. My aunt has lived here for years. She seemed perfectly happy as a single woman. When she wasn’t busy with her consulting work, she took trips to visit interesting private libraries around the world.
She collected books for her own library.
She cruised the Mediterranean and the South Pacific.
Now, out of the clear blue sky, your uncle shows up and seduces her. The question is, why?”
“Are you always this suspicious?” Luke held up a hand. “Don’t answer that. Of course you’re suspicious of a Wells. You’re a Harper.”
“Are you going to tell me the feeling is not mutual?”
“This discussion is getting us nowhere. I’ll give my grandparents a call when we’re on the road. Maybe they’ll have some idea of what’s going on here.”
“The road to where?”
“Down off this mountain to the airport in Santa Rosa, where the company jet will be waiting.” Luke raised his brows. “I assume you’re still planning to head for that art colony in Fool’s Gold Canyon?”
“Absolutely.”
“Might as well go together.”
“Translated, that means you’re afraid that I’ll screw up your investigation if I try to find Aunt Bea on my own.”
“Now that you mention it, yes,” Luke said. “But here’s another excellent reason for sticking together. We’re walking into a potentially dangerous situation. We won’t be able to trust anyone except each other.”
“Which we recently concluded is not a natural state of affairs for a Wells and a Harper.”
“We don’t have any choice this time.”
“Because of the pact.”
“And because your aunt and my uncle might be in serious danger.”
He was right. They needed to stop arguing and get to work.
“We have to go back to the shop so that I can pack,” she said. “Also, I want to pick up a few books from the library.”
“I assume you’re not suggesting that we stop by the local public library to pick up some vacation reading.”
“No, I’m talking about Aunt Bea’s private library in the basement of the Shop on Hidden Lane.”