by SUE FINEMAN
“Yes, please.” He gave her Ginny’s phone number. “Tell him it’s Steffen Marchand. I just now read his letter about Joseph Marchand.”
“Mr. Marchand, Mr. Hamilton has been expecting your call. Would you have time to meet with him this week?”
“No, I don’t plan to be in Chicago anytime soon.”
“Then I’ll have him call you as soon as he’s free.”
Steffen ended the call. The back of his neck tingled. Something didn’t feel right about this picture. He could meditate and try to get a vision, but he hadn’t told Ginny his visions were returning. If he told her, things would undoubtedly change between them. She wanted him to be a normal person, one who didn’t rely on visions and psychic tricks of the mind. But he was psychic. He saw things others didn’t see, felt things others didn’t feel, and knew things others didn’t know. He couldn’t play mind games with her again. If he did, she’d probably never forgive him.
He didn’t expect to hear from the attorney in Chicago that day, but before he sorted through the rest of his mail, the phone rang. Charles Hamilton had returned his phone call.
“Mr. Marchand, I’m calling about your grandfather’s estate.”
“What about it?”
“He left a substantial portion of his estate to you.”
“Why? I only saw him once, and he treated me like the family disgrace, someone to hide away so nobody knew we were related.”
“Joseph regretted how he handled you. His son – your natural father – was afraid his wife would leave him if she knew about you. However, Joseph kept in touch with your mother over the years. He also kept an album of your school pictures, report cards, and anything printed in the newspaper about you. He was quite proud of you and your career.”
“Yeah, right,” Steffen said mostly to himself. The man lived in a fancy condo on Lake Shore Drive in Chicago, but he didn’t share any of his wealth with his bastard grandson. They lived in the same city, yet Steffen had only seen him that one time.
“What did he leave me?”
“Perhaps we could arrange a meeting to discuss it.”
“Perhaps not.” Steffen didn’t intend to go to Chicago just to see this shyster. “If he left me something, put it in the mail.”
“Mr. Marchand, Joseph Marchand left you his condo, his Lincoln Town Car, three office buildings, a vacation home in Florida, and a substantial amount of money. I hardly think I can put all that in the mail.”
Stunned, Steffen couldn’t speak for several seconds. Why would his grandfather leave him anything? “Surely he had other relatives, favorite charities, someone more deserving.”
“The closest relative is a distant cousin he hadn’t seen in fifteen years, and he left gifts for his favorite charities and the man who took care of him these past few years.”
“He was sick?”
“Not sick so much as old. He was nearly ninety when he passed away.”
Steffen sucked in a big breath and blew it out. “All right, Mr. Hamilton, I’ll make arrangements to fly to Chicago and meet with you. I’ll call and let you know when I’ll be there.”
He ended the call and looked over at Ginny. “Maybe I won’t have to find a job right away. The old man left me his condo, his car, and some money.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Is it?” Personal involvement would have meant more than money and things.
She handed him the unopened hospital bill and doctor bills. “Maybe now you can afford to pay these.”
Feeling a sudden need to be alone, Steffen jumped to his feet. “I’m going for a walk.” Pulling on his coat and a stocking cap, he walked out the front door and down the narrow lane, breathing deeply of the cold, clear air. With each step, ice crunched under his feet. Still walking, he let the vision come through of a wizened old man talking with his attorney. “Give it all to my grandson,” said the old man.
“What about your cousin, Phillip Marchand?”
“What about him?”
“If you don’t give him something, he could contest the will and tie up the entire estate.”
“Fine, give him something, but if he contests the will, he gets nothing.”
“How much?” the attorney asked.
“One million, paid out over twenty years. Give the rest to my grandson, including the condo and all my personal possessions. He can sell it all if he wants. I don’t care what he does with it.”
Steffen stopped walking and stared at the bare tree branches hanging over the icy creek. Meeting Ginny and getting shot had changed his life, and his life was about to change again. He wouldn’t turn down the money. That would be foolish.
Did the shooting have something to do with Joseph Marchand’s estate?
If only he could call up a vision of the shooter, but he couldn’t seem to bring the man’s face into focus. He saw nothing but a shadow of a man in a dark car, a man who fired twice at the van, then drove away as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just shot someone.
He had to tell Ginny he was having visions again, and he had to tell her before he went to Chicago.
She might not want him to come back.
<>
Phoebe sat by her mother’s bedside and said the things that needed to be said. Roland stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders.
“I love you, Mama.”
The nurse on the other side of the bed gave Phoebe a look that said the time had come. Roland quietly said, “Let her go, Phoebe. Tell her it’s all right to go and end the suffering.”
“Mama, Papa is waiting for you. Can you see him?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Go into the light, Mama. Go to Papa.”
Roland watched Jill Goldberg take her last breath. Phoebe held her hand and cried as the life left her mother’s body. Roland had been through this experience just last year, with his mother. He was also an only child, and he knew how painful it was to lose a parent and be all alone in the world.
But Phoebe didn’t have to be alone.
Donovan and Hannah Kane arrived minutes later. Hannah asked, “How is she?”
“She’s gone,” Phoebe said on a sob.
Hannah hugged her. “I’m so sorry, Phoebe.”
Donovan took over, for which Roland was very grateful. Roland sat on the family room sofa, his arms around Phoebe, trying to comfort her. Knowing her mother was dying and watching it happen were two entirely different things. He had to keep her grounded in reality, so she didn’t lose her memory again.
So she didn’t forget the days she’d spent with the man who loved her.
<>
Ginny watched Steffen walk into the house. Although he hadn’t told her, she could see the difference in his demeanor at times and knew his visions had returned. Did he think she wouldn’t notice? Why didn’t he tell her?
“Steffen, we need to talk about your visions.”
The phone rang, interrupting their conversation. Dad said, “Jill just passed away.”
“How’s Phoebe taking it?”
“Not well. Can you come over?”
“I’m on my way.” She hung up and turned to Steffen. “I have to go. Phoebe just lost her mother.”
He waved toward the door. “Go.”
She grabbed her purse and coat. “You are having visions again, aren’t you?”
“Some. Not as many as before. I still can’t see the shooter’s face, and I’m not using my mind when we make love. That’s all physical, Ginny.”
All physical. Lust, not love. He didn’t feel the same way she felt about him. He’d return to Chicago and she’d never see him again, and he’d take part of her heart with him.
“I don’t know when I’ll be home.”
He hugged her. “I’ll be here when you get back, whenever that is.”
After a tender kiss, she left for Jill’s house.
Phoebe needed her.
<>
Hours later, Ginny drove home feeling drained. They’d all known Jill
was dying, but knowing didn’t make it any easier. Phoebe took it hard, as she did her father’s death last fall. She seemed extremely fragile, but the man with her treated her with kindness and respect.
Too bad Phoebe had to lose her memory to find Roland.
Steffen met her at the door. “Dinner is in the oven.”
She hugged him, drinking in the warmth of his solid body.
“How is Phoebe?”
“Not good. I hope she doesn’t lose her memory again.”
“The small man is still with her, isn’t he?”
“Yes. He seems quite fond of her. I don’t think she could get through this without him.”
Steffen poured her a glass of wine. “I’m flying to Chicago tomorrow morning. The attorney is having someone meet me at the airport and take me to his office. He said I could stay in the condo.”
“Well, that’s nice of him.”
“I suppose. Joseph Marchand probably paid him a bundle to handle his estate.”
Although he hated leaving Ginny, Steffen had been idle long enough. As long as he didn’t try to carry something heavy with his right hand, his shoulder should be all right, and he needed to get this estate business settled. Once it got through probate, he could sell everything and put it behind him. Start a new life.
Ginny sipped her wine. “What if—”
“No what if’s, Ginny. I appreciate you letting me stay here with you, but I can’t hide out forever.” At some point, she’d accuse him of playing mind games and throw him out. Sheryl liked their enhanced sex, but Ginny had made it clear she wanted a normal man, not a psychic who played around in her mind. Not that there was anything wrong with the sex they’d been having. He’d never felt more alive than when he was with Ginny.
“Okay,” she said on a sigh. “I’ll drive you to the airport tomorrow.”
Ginny knew he’d be leaving soon, but not this soon. He seemed pretty blasé about it, as if it didn’t matter that much to him whether he was here or in Chicago. But it mattered to her. She had time off work for the first time in what seemed like forever, and he wouldn’t be here to share it with her.
He could have asked her to come with him, but he didn’t. He probably had a girlfriend in Chicago and didn’t want any complications.
She wandered into the living room and sat at the piano. Running her hands over the keys, she realized her cat liked Steffen. Strange. Boomer didn’t like any of the other men she’d brought home, not that there’d been that many.
Boomer came in, rubbed on her leg, and then jumped up on the sofa to purr at Steffen.
“Traitor cat,” Ginny muttered.
Steffen laughed. “At least someone will miss me.”
She walked over to the sofa. “Who said I wouldn’t miss you?”
He gazed deeply into her eyes, and she was lost. She didn’t need to tell him anything, because he already knew how she felt.
“Honey, I don’t want to leave, but I have to take care of this. I have to meet with the attorney and take control of Joseph Marchand’s estate.”
“What if the shooter finds you there? What if he wants you dead so he can get control of your grandfather’s estate?”
“Ginny, I can’t stay hidden forever. Once I take over the estate, there won’t be a reason to kill me. My next of kin isn’t a Marchand. It’s my mother. And Carson.”
He rubbed the cat’s head, then stood. “Ginny, honey, I plan to come back to River Valley, but I have to take care of this first.”
He seemed sincere, but Ginny wasn’t sure he’d ever be back. Once he was home in Chicago, once he settled into a fancy condo overlooking the lake, once he took control of Joseph Marchand’s fortune, he wouldn’t have any use for a girl detective who lived with a cat in a little hideaway on Honey Creek.
Once he returned to Chicago, he’d be out of her life for good. He’d find himself another woman, get married and have a family, and live happily ever after.
Without her.
Steffen saw the disappointed look on Ginny’s face. She didn’t want him to leave any more than he wanted to go, but this business in Chicago had to be handled now. He had to be gone from here when the shooter found him, and the longer he stayed, the greater the chance Ginny would get caught in the crossfire.
They ate a quiet dinner, then sat in front of the fire. “Ginny, I want to thank you for taking such good care of me the past few days. Without you, I would have ended up in a motel.” Pulling her close, he said, “I’m going to miss you, honey.” He could invite her to come along, since she had time off work right now, but he didn’t know what to expect when he got to Chicago. Maybe this Hamilton guy was luring him into a trap. Running his hands around Ginny’s waist under her shirt, he knew this little package was too precious to risk. She might be a great detective, but she took enough risks in her job. He wouldn’t put her in another dangerous situation.
She snuggled back into him, and his hands automatically went to the hooks on her bra. Seconds later, he had it unhooked and pushed out of his way, and his hands filled with her lush body. This beautiful lady had drawn him into her life as if he belonged there.
As if she loved him.
Ginny turned a little, gazed deeply into Steffen’s dark blue eyes, and wondered what she’d do without him in her life. She’d fallen for an arrogant man who could have any woman he wanted. Why would he want her? She didn’t have anything to offer him.
As his thumbs played with her nipples, her body hummed with desire. She kissed him, and a flood of moisture dampened her panties. He might leave her tomorrow, but they had tonight, and she intended to make the most of it.
The cat jumped up on the back of the sofa and rubbed on Ginny’s head. Steffen pushed him away. “Go away, Boomer. Tonight, she’s mine.”
“If it wasn’t so cold outside, I’d lock him out.”
But it wasn’t necessary to lock her cat outside. Boomer jumped down and lay on the rug by the fire. Ginny wondered if Steffen had done something to make him go away, since the cat had never willingly left her alone with another man. Could Steffen use mind control on an animal?
“Steffen, did you—”
“He likes the warmth of the fire, Ginny.”
He knew what she was thinking. His psychic powers had returned, not just his visions. Could he plant thoughts in her mind, too? The thought made her cringe. Her thoughts were private, and she wanted to keep them that way.
She felt his hand on her tummy and then lower, touching her intimately, rubbing and exciting her. His erection pressed against her and her hunger increased until she felt like ripping her clothes off and climbing on like she had the first night they slept together. But the condoms were upstairs, and she didn’t want to do this without them.
They left their shoes by the fire and walked slowly upstairs, stopping every few steps for a kiss. Their clothes dropped by the bed and she gazed at his magnificent body. He wasn’t an athlete, yet he had the body of an athlete, with wide shoulders, narrow hips, and long limbs roped with muscle.
He cocked his head. “Like what you see?”
She smiled. “What do you think?”
Putting her hand on his straining erection, he said, “I think I want to make love to you.”
They crawled between the sheets, where his hands explored her body and his lips followed, exciting her, loving her, making her want him more than she’d ever wanted another man. The first time they’d made love, his radar wasn’t working. Tonight it was, and she didn’t care. When he touched her, her body came alive.
“Love me, Steffen.”
As he pushed inside her, he wanted to tell her he did love her. The sex was great, but he couldn’t see a future with her. They didn’t want the same things from life. He wanted to build a family, and she had all the family she wanted. Ginny didn’t want marriage and children, and he didn’t want to live the rest of his life alone and lonesome.
He needed somewhere to belong and someone to belong with, someone to love him without reserv
ation, a woman he could count on to stay with him forever. Someone to build a family with and grow old with.
All Ginny wanted was her career.
Chapter Ten
Ginny drove Steffen to the airport in Columbus the next morning. She didn’t want him to leave yet, but he had things to do, and they didn’t include her. He looked ruggedly handsome with the beard he’d trimmed this morning, much different from his clean-cut stage presence.
She knew the first time she’d kissed him he’d be a dynamite lover. In a few short days, he’d also turned into a good friend. Memories of the time they’d spent together would have to sustain her in the lonely nights to come.
Steffen kissed her goodbye. “I’ll call after I get settled in the condo.”
“Take care of yourself, Steffen.”
He hugged her gently, kissed her again, and walked away without looking back.
“Don’t cry, Ginny. Don’t cry,” she whispered to herself. She’d known from the beginning he wasn’t the kind of man who stayed.
On her way back to River Valley, Ginny called Karen. “What’s happening with the murder of Sandra Morrison and her lover, Jonas Judd?”
“Mark thinks the woman’s husband, Kevin Morrison, is the killer,” Karen said, “but we don’t have any evidence to support that.”
Remembering what Steffen said, Ginny said, “Look for other suspects.”
“Why?”
“Because when Steffen spoke with the husband, he sensed the man was worried about his wife, not that he was a danger to her.”
Karen sighed. “I can’t base an investigation on that.”
“I know. What else is happening there?”
“The captain is working his butt off, like the rest of us. He’s out with Mark, looking for more members of the Dogs gang. Apparently there are at least seven or eight of them, and to get into the gang, a kid needs more than a tattoo of a dog on his arm. He has to kill someone.”
“Damn!”
“My thoughts exactly,” said Karen. “The newest member of the gang is a fifteen-year-old with the street name of Dogbert. Word on the street is he killed Marcus Wilson, but Snoopy ordered the kill because the kid cheated him on the drug deal. Snoopy and Scooby and Underdog are now guests of the city. Judge Wilkins refused to release them on bail. There’s so much publicity about this case, if the judge let them go, there would have been a public outcry. As it is, the public is outraged by what happened.”
