by SUE FINEMAN
Much too soon.
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Ginny ducked into the bathroom and stood in the dingy shower behind the shower curtain. A spider crawled up the corner, over the moldy grout, and another dangled from the shower head, but she couldn’t worry about spiders now. Who had come into the dressing room, and what did they want? Didn’t they know Steffen was still on stage?
She smelled perfume and a woman hummed softly. Steffen Marchand didn’t travel with a woman. She’d checked him out before coming here. He and his uncle drove from show to show in an old blue van with a picture of Steffen the Sensational painted on the side. Just the two of them.
Hooker? No, a man who looked like Steffen wouldn’t have to pay for sex.
Admirer? Possibly.
Someone who needed his help finding someone? Maybe, but from the shadows playing on the open bathroom door, the woman was taking off her clothes.
This could get sticky if someone found Ginny hiding in the bathroom. Steffen would know she was there, of course. He supposedly knew everything. Would he care? She had no intention of hiding in the bathroom and listening to him having sex with another woman in the next room.
If only there was another way out. She glanced at the window, but it was too small to squeeze through. She’d have to go out through the dressing room.
A slow smile tugged at her face as an idea came to mind. She tapped her gun against the side of the toilet bowl, then called out to the other room. “It must have crawled back down the toilet, because I don’t see a snake in here.” She flushed. “No, it’s not in the toilet.”
She heard a gasp and smiled. “You see a snake out there?”
Ginny stood in the bathroom doorway and watched the woman hastily shake out her clothes, pull them on, and run out the door. She was still laughing when Steffen walked into the dressing room. He sneezed and fanned the air. The scent of the woman’s strong perfume lingered in the stuffy room.
“I hope you didn’t pay her much, because she left when I told her about the snake in the bathroom.”
His eyes sparkled and a smile pulled at his mouth. “Then you owe me one.”
“You try to collect and I’ll have you locked up so fast you won’t know what hit you.”
He gazed at her long enough for her to feel uncomfortable, then said, “We’ll see.” Her entire body tingled from the sound of his smooth, deep voice. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. What would it be like to kiss him, really kiss him, and feel those long fingers stroking her body when they made love?
She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. He laughed.
“You bastard. Quit planting thoughts in my head.”
He cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. “What kind of thoughts?”
“Don’t pull that crap on me, Mr. Sensational.”
He held out his arms. “Honey, look at me. Do I look like the kind of man who’d have to plant thoughts in a woman’s head?”
“Arrogant jerk!” Ginny was tempted to walk out on him, but what would that prove? She came here looking for help in finding Phoebe. And Steffen Marchand, irritating psychic, might be the only person in River Valley who could help her.
Steffen held the ring again, breathed deeply, and stared at the wall. “I see your missing friend sitting at a small table, eating a sandwich, and talking with the man I saw earlier. She doesn’t look afraid, but something isn’t quite right about this picture…. Roland. His name is Roland, and she feels safe with him.”
“Where are they?”
“In a motel room. He calls her Jane.”
“As in Jane Doe?”
He shrugged and handed the ring back. “She’s not afraid of him, but she’s afraid of everything and everyone else.”
“That doesn’t sound like Phoebe. Maybe you saw someone else.”
“Maybe. Where are those pictures?”
Ginny pulled the pictures from her pocket and handed them to him. Some were of her and Phoebe together in college. The ones she got from Jill were more recent. Phoebe was smiling in the pictures, but her eyes looked sad. Troubled. As if the stress of caring for her mother had become too much for her to handle.
“It’s her, although she’s wearing her hair long and loose. No makeup.”
“She’s there because she wants to be with him?”
“She’s with him because he’s her anchor, the only thing familiar.”
Ginny sank into the chair at the dressing table. “She’s lost her memory?”
“It seems that way. I wish I could get a reading on the motel, but…” He shook his head. “After twenty years on the road, they all look the same to me.”
Ginny sighed deeply. Even if they found Phoebe, she might not want to come home. If she couldn’t remember who she was, if she was attached to this Roland person, she might be afraid to come back to River Valley.
The police found Phoebe’s car parked by the side of the highway on the west side of town on a cold January night two weeks ago, but there was no sign of her. She’d left her purse tucked under the driver’s seat, keys in the ignition. No prints but hers. It didn’t look like foul play, and aside from a flat tire and skid marks, the Mercedes looked fine. Phoebe wouldn’t accept a ride from a stranger and leave her purse behind.
“She’s all right,” said Steffen. “She’s confused, but she’s content with this man.”
“Is he someone she knew before?”
Steffen shrugged. “I don’t know, and at the moment, she doesn’t know either.”
Carson barged into the room. “C’mon, Steffen. We have to go. I have someone lined up for a reading at the motel. If you expect to take a few weeks off, we need the extra money.”
Carson glanced at Ginny. “Kiss her goodbye and help me load the van. We don’t want to be late.”
Steffen grinned down at Ginny. “You heard the man.”
He leaned down to kiss her and she turned her head. “You owe me one,” he whispered.
She slipped a card into his hand. “If you—”
“If I do, I’ll call.”
“Thank you,” she whispered as his lips came down over hers in a kiss that left her lips tingling all the way down to her fingertips.
Chapter Two
After a night of dreaming about Steffen Marchand and his compelling eyes and magic lips, Ginny walked into the station the next morning feeling tired and cranky. She hung her coat on the back of her chair and sat down.
At the next desk over, a woman said, “Roland Bickley. He didn’t show up for work and I don’t get any answer when I call his home. If he’s not coming back, I need to know so I can hire someone else. Tax season is coming up, our busiest time of the year. He couldn’t have picked a worse time to disappear.”
Ginny listened quietly as fellow detective Mark Montgomery wrote down the information. Could this be the same Roland that Steffen had seen in his vision last night?
“He’s an accountant?” Mark asked.
“CPA. He always calls in when he’s sick. Shoot, he calls in if he’s going to be more than ten minutes late. That’s why this is so strange. He’s been gone for two weeks. He didn’t show up for work the last Monday in January, and we haven’t seen him or heard from him since.”
“Physical description?”
“About five-three and slender. He has dark hair, thinning in the back, and blue eyes. Just an average looking guy in his forties, but very small.”
“Married?”
“No. I don’t think he’s ever had a girlfriend. He’s shy around women. Roland is a meek little man, a quiet guy who goes about his business and doesn’t bother anyone. He lived with his mother until she died last year. He still lives in the family home. I’m afraid he might have gotten sick, you know, had a heart attack or something and couldn’t get to the phone to call for help.”
Ginny wondered why she waited so long to file a missing persons report. If Roland Bickley was so sick he couldn’t get to a phone, he could be dead by now.
Mark asked, “Di
d someone go to his home to check on him?”
“Yes, but no one answered the door, and his car wasn’t there.”
“We’ll check it out.”
As soon as the woman left the room, Ginny picked up one of the pictures of Roland Bickley.
Feeling a sudden need to talk with Steffen, Ginny slid the picture in her pocket and grabbed her jacket.
Mark asked, “Do you know this guy?”
“No, but I might know someone who does.”
Ginny rushed to the Whippoorwill Inn, hoping to find Steffen there. As she pulled into the parking lot, she spotted the van and knew Steffen and Carson were here. Ginny parked by the office and walked inside, flipping her badge open as she moved toward the desk. “Steffen Marchand,” she said. “Room number?”
The man behind the desk stared at her and her badge. “I don’t want no trouble.”
She leaned over the desk. “Then give me the room number,” she said slowly.
“Thirty-seven. Halfway back.”
She walked back and tapped on the door. When Carson opened the door, she held her badge up. “Police business. I need to speak with Steffen.”
Carson crossed his arms. “He’s in the shower, and you don’t consult with him without paying me first.”
She cocked her head. “Really? How much did you take that man for last night? A thousand? Five thousand? Do you pay tax on that money? What would the publicity do to the show if the police investigated how you do business?”
He stepped back, muttering to himself, and she followed him into the room.
The bathroom door opened and Steffen stepped out in a cloud of steam. He wore a towel around his waist and rubbed his wet hair with another towel. His longish hair curled around his ears. She wanted to take the towel from him and rub his hair dry while she inhaled the scent of clean man.
Steffen glanced over and smiled. “Well, well, well, look who came to visit.”
“Your radar not working this morning, Mr. Sensational?”
“I forgot to turn it on. Did you come to pay me the one you owe me? I’ve always liked sex in the morning, and as you can see, I’m dressed for it.”
She scanned his wide shoulders and chest and arms. He wasn’t heavily muscled, but he looked solid and strong. His legs were straight and hairy, and he had a patch of hair in the middle of his chest. It tapered down and disappeared under his towel.
“Get dressed. We need to talk.”
Carson grabbed his coat, glared at Ginny, and walked out the door.
Steffen pulled underwear and jeans from the suitcase on the dresser, then motioned for her to turn around. Watching in the mirror, she saw him turn his back, drop the towel, and pull on the clothes. He had a great ass, and the knit boxers hugged him like a second skin.
“Seen enough?”
“The view from here was magnificent.” She couldn’t believe she’d said that out loud.
He laughed. “I like a woman who speaks her mind.”
He pulled on a dark red sweatshirt and sat on the side of the bed with a pair of socks. As soon as he had his shoes on, she handed him the picture of Roland Bickley. “Is this the man with Phoebe?”
He glanced at the picture and handed it back. “Looks like him. Who is he?”
“Roland Bickley, CPA. He went missing about the time Phoebe did, but from the way his boss speaks about him, he wouldn’t hurt her.”
“No, I don’t think he would.”
“Will he bring her home?”
Steffen cocked his head. “I don’t know.”
“I need to find them. Phoebe’s mother isn’t well, and worrying about her daughter isn’t helping her condition.”
Carson walked in. “Are you ready to go?”
“Almost.” Steffen took his leather zipper bag from the dresser and glanced around the room. “I wish I could stay and help you, but Carson is a bear before breakfast. If we don’t eat soon, he’ll be like this all day.”
She had a feeling Carson was a bear all the time. She didn’t much like the man, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about Steffen. He made her uncomfortable, yet just hearing his voice excited her. Maybe she’d just gone too long without a man in her life.
She shook away her thoughts and asked, “How long will you be here in River Valley?”
“Two more days, then three days in Columbus ends the tour and we’re going home to Chicago.” He scribbled on the pad beside the phone. “Here’s my cell phone number. Call anytime.”
He kissed her gently, then settled in a kiss that left her breathless with longing. “Next time I see you, I intend to collect.”
After a long hug, he released her, grabbed his coat, and walked out the door. Seconds later, she heard the van door slam.
Walking back to her car, she breathed deeply of the cold, clear air. Why did she have such a strong attraction to him? Did he plant that thought in her mind? Handsome or not, she didn’t intend to fall for a man who could mess around inside her head. He’d be leaving River Valley soon anyway, and she’d never see him again. Just as well. She didn’t have time for a man in her life.
Since college, she’d dated mostly other cops, detectives, and attorneys. Most men who weren’t involved in the criminal justice system seemed a little intimidated by her job.
Steffen didn’t seem intimidated.
She doubted anyone or anything would intimidate Steffen Marchand.
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Steffen sat quietly in the passenger seat while Carson vented. “Did she pay you? Did you even ask her to pay for your services?”
Without waiting for an answer, Carson continued, “You know nothing about the money side of the business. You should have sent her to me.”
“Shut up, Carson. Just shut the hell up.”
For once, Carson shut his mouth.
Steffen and his uncle had argued about money before, then Steffen tuned him out. He couldn’t concentrate on his work if he had to worry about money. If he couldn’t clear his mind, he couldn’t function as a psychic, couldn’t put on the shows that supported them, and couldn’t do the private readings that brought in additional income.
One more week. Just one more week and he was finished. Done!
Carson still didn’t believe Steffen would quit the business, but that was his problem. It was time to sever their business relationship and go their separate ways. Time to settle down in one place, find another source of income, and lead a more normal life.
What would it be like to have a woman like Virginia Kane to warm his bed? God, how he loved the taste of her sweet lips. She was a beauty, but she didn’t flaunt it. She didn’t wear heavy makeup or douse herself in dreadful perfume, and she didn’t throw herself at him like so many other women did. Ginny didn’t have to do those things to get attention from a man. With her looks, she could attract any man she wanted.
Aside from a series of one-night or two-night stands and an off-and-on relationship with Sheryl, Steffen hadn’t had a woman in his life since his mother left. On the road, women threw themselves at him, but he didn’t hang around long enough to get to know any of them.
He wanted a more normal life, one without the constant pressure of being on stage, of seeing what people wanted him to see, of always being right. Nobody was right all the time. Sometimes the visions came through in little pieces and he had to interpret them. People didn’t understand why he sometimes gave them incorrect information. He told them the visions were like small pieces of a big jigsaw puzzle, and the pieces didn’t always fit together to make the picture he expected.
Steffen and Carson barely spoke at breakfast. Carson was still angry that Steffen hadn’t asked Ginny for money, but he needed more than money. He needed someone to hold on a cold winter night, someone to show him friendship and affection.
Someone who made him smile.
Someone to love.
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Roland sat on the end of the bed, watching CNN. They had a piece about Myron Goldberg and his prestigious Wall Street career.
Roland watched Jane, but she didn’t react. She showed no recognition of the father she’d once loved.
“I wonder if I had a career. What would I have done, Roland?”
“I don’t know, Jane.” Librarian, he wanted to say, but didn’t. Maybe she’d never remember. Maybe she’d stay with him forever. She’d asked him to take her away from River Valley, and he had, but he could be in big trouble if the police found them.
He felt guilty not telling her, but he couldn’t tell her now. It would only upset her.
The show shifted to Jill Rubin, Phoebe’s mother. She was a New York socialite when she married Myron Goldberg. They showed pictures of Phoebe when she was a little girl, playing on a grassy lawn with her mother and a shaggy little dog.
“Cute little girl,” said Jane.
“Yes, she is.”
The pictures of Jane in high school and college showed her with a stunning girl who had black hair and blue eyes. The other girl was identified as Virginia Kane, daughter of former Mayor Donovan Kane. She was now a police detective with the River Valley Police Department. Roland’s stomach sank. Phoebe’s friend was a police detective, which meant she’d do everything she could to find her.
He couldn’t wait. He had to tell her now. Tonight.
The next segment showed Phoebe in the main branch of the city library, her hair pulled back into a tidy bun, putting books on the shelves. A commercial came on and Roland knew it was now or never. “Jane, did that woman look familiar to you?”
She shrugged. “Nobody looks familiar except you, Roland.”
“That woman, the librarian, went missing the same night I found you, and you look just like her. Do you think you could be Phoebe Goldberg?”
Jane sat quietly, staring at the commercial for Fruit of the Loom underwear playing on the television screen. Finally, she said, “I’m Jane.”
“What about your mother? She must be worried about you.”
“But I’m not her daughter. I’m Jane.” Jane ran into the bathroom and closed the door.
