by SUE FINEMAN
“I’m sure I will be.” Especially with Ginny here to pamper him.
In the living room, she sat at the piano and ran her fingers over the keys, settling in a soft lullaby. Seconds later, a black cat with yellow eyes hunched his back and rubbed against her leg. His purrs nearly drowned out the piano music.
Carrying the cat to the sofa, Ginny sat beside Steffen. “Boomer, this is Steffen. He’ll be staying with us for a few days, so be a good kitty.”
“Does he always come when you play the piano?”
“Always.”
“Pretty cat.”
“He thinks so, too, don’t you, Boomer?”
He bumped his head against her shoulder and purred.
Steffen had never been around cats, but he’d make an effort to get along with this one, because it was Ginny’s. She’d come through for him like a true friend. Like someone who cared.
As soon as he grew a decent beard and his wound healed, he’d move on. Ginny had brought him here because he had nowhere else to go, but he didn’t want to overstay his welcome.
“Are you hungry?” Ginny asked.
“I could eat.”
“Good, because my mother has been here, and the refrigerator is stuffed full of food.”
A smile pulled at his face. “I love your family already, and I haven’t met them yet.”
“You will. As soon as you feel up to it, we’ll invite some of them over – not all at once, though. My brothers are all married, with kids. Billy has two boys and a girl, Andy has twin toddlers, and Charlie has a nine-year-old girl – the psychic one – and a baby boy. When they all come at once, it’s like a major invasion. Boomer usually hides under the bed.”
“I know absolutely nothing about kids or cats.”
She walked into the kitchen as she talked. “No siblings or pets?”
“No. I had a mentally ill father, an indifferent mother, and an uncle who took me on the road when I was barely out of high school. I learned to cook when I was ten, laundry when I was twelve, and if I wanted to live in a clean house, I cleaned it myself. After my grandmother died, the only person I could rely on was myself.”
“That’s sad.”
“Is it?” He sat on a stool at the kitchen counter. “I always knew where my mother was and what she was doing, and most of the time, my father was in a world of his own. I made sure he took his pills, but after my mother left, he refused to take them. He became more delusional, and we had to put him in a sanitarium.”
“How old were you?”
“Sixteen. Carson took legal custody, and we started doing shows on the weekends.”
She set a bowl of stew in front of him and dug some crackers out of the pantry. “You should have been going out with pretty girls and having fun.”
“It was fun, at first. I got a better reception from the adults in the clubs than I ever did from the kids at school. I was too weird to fit in.”
“So was I.” She sat beside him with her stew. “My father was chief of police when I was in high school, so all the kids who were into things they shouldn’t have been into shunned me.” She grinned. “But the kid who gave Dad the most trouble was Charlie, his own son. He and Andy are twins, but they’re nothing alike. Andy was the good twin, and Charlie was always in trouble for one thing or another.
“Billy’s my half-brother. He’s thirteen years older than me, so he was almost like another parent. He owns most of a private prep school and teaches there, too. Andy’s the architect who designed the remodel of this place. Charlie grows corn on Andy’s farm and owns a trucking company. Andy designed an inn – it’s really a family project – and it’s about ready to open.”
Steffen finished his stew. “That was really good.”
“Mom made it. She’s a better cook than me.” She twisted to face Steffen. “Does your father live in Chicago?”
“He died last November. My mother is in California with husband number four or five – I lost count. I’ve only seen her twice in the last twenty years. She didn’t know how to deal with my psychic visions. My grandmother was also psychic, but Mom hated that my grandmother knew everything. I think what she really hated was that the psychic gift skipped a generation. Not only could my grandmother see what my mother couldn’t see, I could see it, too.”
He and Ginny had a mostly professional relationship before, a cop looking for a missing friend, with a little teasing and kissing to keep things interesting. Now they were beginning to get to know each other on a personal level. He wanted to kiss her again, but he wanted this, too. He needed this. He couldn’t remember when he’d last had a true friend. Being on the road all the time didn’t give him time for friendships.
“Thanks for being there when I needed a friend.”
She kissed him lightly on the lips, then gathered their dirty dishes and loaded the dishwasher. “Find yourself a comfortable spot – bed or chair – and rest. Take a nap while I go upstairs and make a few phone calls.”
He sat in the soft leather chair in the living room, put his feet up and his head back, and almost immediately dozed off.
Ginny covered him with the throw from the sofa. She couldn’t count the times she’d slept in that chair, usually with a kitty curled on her lap.
It would take time for him to get his strength back and longer still for his shoulder to heal, but she couldn’t stay home and take care of him every day. She had to return to work in a few days, and he’d be here on his own.
She went upstairs to her bedroom, where her phone calls wouldn’t disturb Steffen. Her first call was to her mother. “Thanks for the food. We had stew for lunch.”
“You’re welcome. How is he?”
“Worn out, sleeping in the chair in the living room. Have you heard from Phoebe?”
“No, have you?”
“No. I’m getting worried. I hope they’re on their way home.”
“I hope so, too, Ginny. I spoke with Jill this morning. They want her to go to the hospital, but she won’t go. She said she’s waiting for her daughter to come home.”
<>
Jane hugged her arms. “I’m so cold.”
Roland drove down the highway with the snow swirling around them. The windshield wipers worked, but the car heater couldn’t keep up and the inside of the window kept steaming up. “We need to find a motel and get off the road until this storm passes. Watch for signs.”
His fingers were so cold he could barely feel them. He’d given Jane his gloves.
They stopped at three motels before they found a room, and the only room available had one bed. He didn’t have a choice, he had to take the room. At least this motel had a restaurant, so they didn’t have to go outside to eat.
Minutes later, they were settled in the room. Without saying anything about the bed situation, Jane said, “We need to do laundry. I don’t have any clean clothes left.” She gathered the clothes, took the handful of coins he gave her, and walked down the hallway.
As soon as she left the room, he called Donovan Kane’s home. A woman answered.
“This is Roland Bickley. I’m calling for Donovan Kane.”
“This is Donovan’s wife, Hannah. He’s out right now, and I know he’ll be sorry he missed your call. Are you and Phoebe all right?”
“We’re fine – cold, but all right. We’re in Nebraska, on our way back to River Valley. There’s a blizzard raging outside, so we stopped early. We’d planned to be back tomorrow or the next day, but with the storm—”
“Don’t take any unnecessary chances.”
“How is Phoebe’s mother?”
“Not good. She’s confined to her bed now, and the doctor doesn’t expect her to live much longer. She wants to see her daughter before she dies.”
“Of course she does. We’ll be there as soon as we can get there.”
“All right. Thanks for calling.”
Jane came back to the room. “I started both loads.”
“Good. Jane, my old car might not make it back to Ohio. Wh
at would you think about waiting until the storm passes, then taking a taxi to the nearest airport?”
She sat beside him. “You called her?”
“I called Donovan Kane’s home and spoke with his wife. Your mother is dying, and she wants so much to see you, even if you don’t remember her.”
She sighed deeply. “I wish we had my Mercedes. I have snow tires, and…” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Ohmygod, I remember my car.”
“What else do you remember, Jane?”
“I’m not Jane. I’m Phoebe. What’s wrong with me? Why did I forget everything?”
Roland wrapped his arms around her. “You’re not alone, Phoebe. I’m here with you, and I’ll be here as long as you need me.”
“Hold me, Roland. Please hold me.”
He held her until she stopped shaking so hard. She was remembering the past, and it scared him. Because when she remembered, she’d leave him for sure.
Chapter Six
Steffen opened his eyes and stretched until his right shoulder reminded him of his injury.
The light outside had faded, but the nearby fireplace glowed with a warm fire, bathing the room in soft shadows. Pushing the throw aside, he inhaled the scent of garlic and tomato and cheese. Was it dinner time already? He must have slept through the entire afternoon.
He hadn’t spent much time at home in the past year, but Ginny’s little house felt more like home than his house in Chicago. He wondered if she brought her lovers here. His radar, as Ginny called it, didn’t seem to be working. Since the shooting, the visions he so easily summoned before wouldn’t come through.
Draping the throw over the end of the sofa, he wandered into the kitchen. She’d set the dining room table with candles. Nice.
“You’re awake,” Ginny said with a warm smile. She stood at the kitchen counter, making salad. “The power out here is iffy at best in the winter, so I thought I’d start dinner early, just in case. I have a generator, but it doesn’t run everything.”
She wore her long dark hair loose today, and it caught the light as she moved around the small kitchen, slicing radishes for the salad and checking the food in the oven. Working in her kitchen, Ginny didn’t look much like he’d expect a cop to look. She looked more like a woman preparing a meal for her friend. Her lover. Only he wasn’t her lover, and with his sore shoulder, he wouldn’t be able to do any seducing for a few days. She probably wouldn’t let him get that close anyway.
Before the shooting, he could read her thoughts and moods. Now he couldn’t read anything. He felt lost without the visions that had been with him since childhood. He’d always been able to look at someone and see their past and future. Now all he saw was the present, a beautiful woman working in her kitchen, preparing a meal for an injured friend. Was this what it felt like to be normal?
She leaned on the bar. “What’s wrong, Steffen?”
“Feels funny not to have visions, like I’m half empty.”
Ginny saw the look on his face and knew he felt more than funny. Steffen defined himself by his psychic abilities, and now they were gone, along with his cocky confidence.
The shooter could have killed him last night. Now, in addition to the pain, he had to deal with the loss of his psychic powers. His powers would no doubt be restored at some point, but right now he looked lost, and the way he moved, she knew he was in pain.
She brought a pot of hot tea to the table and sat down across from Steffen. “Alex made the lasagna. That’s Charlie’s wife. She’s Italian.”
“The one with the psychic girl and baby boy?”
She dished out the lasagna. “You remembered. Or did you see it just now?”
“I can’t see anything, Ginny. The gunshot shattered my radar.”
“It’ll come back.”
“What if it doesn’t?”
“Then you’ll learn to live like the rest of us mortals.” She rather liked the idea of him being unable to get inside her head. The kisses over the phone were fantastic, but that was partly because he’d done something to her mind.
Steffen Marchand was an appealing man, and his psychic power made him more compelling. Knowing someone wanted him dead badly enough to shoot him had taken away the confidence that made him so appealing on stage.
She wondered now long it would take for his visions to return.
<>
Ginny was watching the television news about the blizzard across the middle of the country when Mom called. “Would you mind company?”
“Not at all.”
“Good. We just saw Jill, and we thought Steffen might be able to tell us—”
She looked over at Steffen. “Mom, that’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because he can’t see anything right now. It’s probably all the meds they had him on in the hospital.” She tried to downplay his loss, because not having those abilities obviously bothered him a lot.
“It’s okay, Ginny,” said Steffen. “I can try, and I’d like to meet your parents.”
“He said he’ll try, so come on over.” She hung up. “My parents are curious about you.”
“Understandable when a strange man moves in with their daughter. Do you look like your mother?”
“Yes and no. I have her black hair and Dad’s blue eyes.”
“Is your father still with the police department?”
“No, he served as police chief for a bunch of years, then two terms as mayor. He’s retired now, spends most of his time playing Grandpa and nagging me to get married.”
He cocked his head. “Ginny, do you want to get married?”
“God, no! Not if it means giving up my career. When I was growing up, Mom stayed home and took care of us and my grandfather. Pop lived with us. When we got older, she did a lot of volunteer work, and of course, as the mayor’s wife, she had social obligations. But that’s not the life for me.”
“Do you like your job?”
“For the most part, although I don’t much like the captain. He’s a big jerk who doesn’t like women, especially me.”
“Why you?”
“Everyone keeps comparing him to my father, and the captain always comes up short.”
“So he takes it out on you? That’s not fair.”
“There’s nothing fair about police work. It’s rough, dirty, and dangerous, but I can’t imagine doing anything else with my life.”
She heard a car outside. “My parents are here.” She turned the stove burner on under the tea kettle and opened the front door. It had snowed all afternoon, but the snow had stopped, the moon was out, and everything looked crisp and clean. And her car was buried.
Mom hugged her. “It’s cold out there.”
Dad gave her a quick hug. “We need to get a garage built, so you don’t have to dig your car out every morning.”
Ginny introduced Steffen and watched the two men size each other up. Interesting how men always did that. She shared an eyebrows raised look with her mother. They should be used to this by now. Dad had tried to intimidate every man who’d ever gotten close to his only daughter. What would he do if he knew the men at the station called her Princess? They’d been calling her that since she became a cop, and it wasn’t because she behaved any differently from any other police officer. It was because her father was Donovan Kane.
The tea kettle whistled, and Ginny escaped to the kitchen. “Anyone want coffee or tea?” she called out to the other room.
“Tea,” said Mom.
Ginny made a pot of tea and put the pot on a tray with four cups, the sugar bowl, and lemon slices. She carried it into the living room and put it on the coffee table, where everyone could reach it. Dad and Steffen sat on opposite ends of the sectional, as if they’d each staked out a claim. Mom poured the tea and sat beside Dad.
“Ginny tells me you have a psychic granddaughter,” said Steffen.
Dad nodded. “Apparently she was born with the gift. It still throws me when she says something out of the blue, but she’s
learned to keep quiet about her visions unless she’s with family.”
“Good idea.” Steffen picked up a cup of tea and sipped. “My family sold my services to police departments from the time I was eight. Mostly I found missing persons. Occasionally they took me to crime scenes to see if I could tell them something they’d missed.”
Dad’s eyebrows knit. “They took a child to crime scenes? I wouldn’t have allowed that.”
“I wouldn’t allow it either,” said Ginny. “Didn’t you have nightmares?”
“Sometimes.” Steffen sipped from the cup and set it down on the coffee table. “Ginny tells me you wanted to ask about her missing friend.”
Mom leaned forward and put her cup down. “We just came from a visit to Phoebe’s mother. She’s barely holding on. Phoebe’s new friend called me earlier today and said they were on their way home when they got stuck in a snow storm in Nebraska. We’re afraid Phoebe might not get back in time. Is there anything you can tell us?”
Ginny held up a finger. “Hold on a minute before you answer.” She raced upstairs and retrieved Phoebe’s ring. If Steffen could conjure up a vision, he’d need to hold something that belonged to Phoebe.
Downstairs, she put the ring in Steffen’s left hand. His right arm had been in a sling since the surgery. “If you can see something, that’s great. If not, it’s okay. We’ll understand.”
Steffen held the ring and rubbed it with his thumb. The ring warmed, as he expected, but he didn’t see the woman. He didn’t see anything. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind and let the vision come through, but for the first time he could remember, the psychic connection didn’t work. No matter how much he wanted to help these people, he couldn’t call up a vision.
He opened his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Ginny said.
“No, it’s not,” he said more harshly than he intended. “I want to help you, and I need to focus on the shooting, so I’ll know who shot me and why, but—”
“Steffen, it’s okay,” Ginny said gently. “It’s probably all the drugs in your system. When they clear out, your visions will return.”
“What if they don’t?”
