Dark Secrets: A Paranormal Romance Anthology

by Colleen Gleason

  Rick picked his book up and went back to reading. His presence was calming. I closed my eyes and sat quietly, pulling power through my lotus ink. The centering energy pulsed through me, and the strain from the last few days left my body.

  “Olivia?” Rick tapped my shoulder.

  I must have dozed off because the tea in my cup was cold, and the long cast of the shadows told me the afternoon was turning into early evening. “How long did you let me sleep?”

  “It’s only been a few hours. Samuel called; he’ll be here soon. I thought you might want to continue our conversation before he arrived."

  “I’m not sure what else there is to say.” To be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be pulled down that rabbit hole any further. I’d learned enough in my interview with Molly to allow me to close my coroner’s investigation with a clear conscience. The missing girl had been rescued. As far as I was concerned, everything had worked out.

  I still couldn’t figure out what Rick wanted from me, and I didn’t think I wanted to know. Maybe Charlie was right; maybe I was hiding. But was I hiding from the world or from myself?

  “I don’t want to get involved,” I said. “I've done what I could, and you’ve found Molly.”

  “And you think it’s that simple? There’s so much you could be doing with your powers. You still have a lot to learn. And don't think that Samuel’s report to the FPD is going to go unnoticed. They already know about you. You can’t believe they’ll ignore you after this.”

  “You’re welcome to stay another night, but after that, I think you should leave. There’s nothing else for you here.” I got up, collected my things, and headed for the door. Before I stepped out I said, “I don’t know what you want from me, but I have better things to do.”

  I felt bad for being such a bitch, but I wasn’t sure how honest I was when I said I didn’t want to get involved, and that scared me. If he asked right now, I might be tempted to pack a bag and go on an adventure. I couldn’t do that. I had too many responsibilities, so the sooner he was gone, the better.

  He followed me across the room, backed me against the wood door, and as he spoke I felt his breath on my skin, tingling from its warmth and the husky tones of his words. “I can think of several things I want from you, Miss Olivia Harmon. But for now I’ll settle for just one.”

  “Oh? And what would that be?” I kept my voice low, trying—and failing—to be unaffected by his nearness. My nose filled with the scent of the rosemary-mint soap, fresh and clean. I vaguely remembered that scent from last night when his arms were around me. I took a deep, steadying breath and shored up my resistance. “I’m not interested in a one-night stand, Inspector Bishop.”

  “I can’t say that thought hasn’t crossed my mind,” he said with a little smirk and took a step back, giving me some room to breathe. “But more importantly, I was worried about your safety out here alone. I want you to know that if you’re ever in trouble, you can call me.”

  I walked right into that one. Something about the man made me want to rip his clothes off and punch him in the face in equal parts, and right now he was close enough I could do either.

  With that smirk still firmly in place, he leaned in, lips close to mine as though about to kiss me. My pulse increased with anticipation. But instead of his lips, he pressed the book he was holding to my mouth.

  “I have a feeling you’ll be needing this. I left you some notes.” He reached around me, opened the door just enough, and inched past me, laughing the whole time.

  My blush burned hot as I realized he was blowing me off, and I couldn’t blame him. I’d left myself wide open. I was the one who’d brought up sex. What had I been thinking? Probably how long it’d been since I’d had any.

  I stood in the doorway and waited for my racing heart to slow, but it took longer for the disappointment from our encounter to fully dissipate. I looked down at the book he handed me. It was the book on backlash he’d been reading, and poking out from between the pages was a single slip of paper. I opened the book to the handwritten note.

  Olivia,

  I think if you read Chapter Four it will help with your backlash issue. You should never try to absorb an alien power without having a counter. Your body rejects it. The theory that you can collect the power and expel it before the backlash occurs has promise.

  -Rick

  Closing the book, I wondered—not for the first time—what Rick hoped to get from all this. I took the book to my room, and headed back to check on Charlie.

  I could hear low voices coming from the end of the hall. I slowed and listened. Charlie was speaking with a man in hushed tones, and I assumed this must have been where Rick fled. But when I turned the corner, I found her and Agent King in a heated discussion.

  At first I thought they were arguing, but then she giggled and swatted his hand away. The large man leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Charlie’s smile grew wide. She rose on her tip-toes, lips touching his ear and responded. I recognized that dance immediately, but I was still a little surprised. Special Agent Samuel King didn't strike me as the flirting type.

  I cleared my throat. King stiffened and took a step back, which only made Charlie laugh harder.

  “Really Samuel, it’s not as if Olivia cares. That is, unless you’re interested?” She winked at me. “You know, Samuel, Olivia and I share all kinds of interests.”

  I was impressed. She’d managed to get the man to visibly blanch at her words. He looked to me and back to Charlie and then to me again; perhaps he was trying to figure out if she was serious. He tried to say something, but all he could manage was “Uhm."

  She patted his arm. “Don’t worry, champ. I think I’m going to keep you all to myself. I like to break the new guys in alone."

  I shook my head. The poor fellow. Charlie was an expert at this game, and I was certain he was out of his league.

  When he caught my expression, he straightened and returned to the “all business” agent. “I was about to speak with Molly."

  “By all means, don’t let me stop you.” I waited until he entered the room and grabbed Charlie’s arm. “What was that all about?”

  “What? Am I not allowed to have a little fun?” She smiled, eyes wide and innocent.

  “Samuel King? He works for the Division. I thought that would make him persona non grata in your book.”

  “He’s one of the good guys. We have a lot in common. Did you know he grew up only a few blocks from my mom’s?” She grinned wickedly. “Besides, he’s so easy to tease. I think I might call Zoe over and see which one of us can get him to crack.”

  “Something’s not right about your relationship.” I patted her arm. “We’d better go in and make sure lover boy isn’t traumatizing young Molly.”

  I tried to sneak into the room unnoticed, but King caught me with a disapproving look. His glare almost spoke the words “FPD business.” I just stared back, daring him to boot me out of a room in my own house. Wisely, he turned without a word to me and went back to questioning Molly.

  The poor girl didn’t have much to tell. She remembered some guy giving her and Sarah the charms at a club they frequented. He offered them a ride home, and that was the last thing she remembered before she woke up, bound. The girls were held in a small room together. Sometimes there was food, but most of the time not. Tears stung my eyes as she continued.

  “We thought we were going to die in that room. After maybe two weeks, I guess—the days started to get fuzzy—Scott told us it was time to go. He just came one day and packed Sarah and me in the car.” Her voice was a low monotone as she concluded her story.

  “Can you describe where you were being held?” Samuel asked, smoothing a hand down her back. His voice was soft and kind, and at that moment I could see what Charlie was talking about. Despite his rough exterior, he was one of the good guys.

  “Sure, but it wouldn’t do you any good,” she said bitterly. “It was a small white room with a mattress on a concrete floor and nothin
g else. Not even a window. We couldn’t tell if it was night or day.” Molly bit her lip. A wave of pain crossed her face, the tough exterior finally cracking. She turned to Charlie, several stray tears escaping her control and asked, "Can I go home? I really just want to go home now.”

  Charlie looked to Samuel. He nodded almost imperceptibly, and Charlie said, “Sure thing. I’ve already called your mother, but I’ll let her know you'll be home tonight instead of tomorrow.” Charlie got up from the bed and backed toward the door. “How ‘bout we leave in an hour.”

  That was enough to send Molly over the edge. She buried her face in the pillow, soaking it with her tears.

  Molly would be reunited with her family, but Sarah hadn’t been so lucky. I still had the task of delivering her body to Indy. My discomfort turned to rage when I recalled the other body that waited for me back at Anderson’s.

  I turned to King and said, “You have to do something about Scott Malone’s body, or so help me I’ll drag his lifeless corpse to the town square and string it up as a warning to anyone else thinking of hurting kids in my district.” I had a reverence for the dead, but that evil son of a bitch didn’t deserve my respect.

  King’s eyes widened at my sudden venom. “I understand,” he said. “I’ll make sure arrangements are finalized tomorrow.”

  “Speaking of tomorrow,” Charlie said, “you don’t mind if I take tomorrow off? I’d really like to go with Molly and make sure she’s okay.”

  “That’s fine by me.” I shrugged. “There's nothing on the schedule for tomorrow. It’s been slow. I can handle the ordering. Just give me a call if you need anything.”

  “Great.” She turned to King. “I just need to get a few things and I’ll be ready in a sec.”

  She hurried down the hall and disappeared around the corner, leaving King and me alone in an awkward silence.

  “I wanted to thank you for all your help.” King shifted uncomfortably. His gratitude seemed forced, and I realized this was Charlie’s doing.

  “I don’t need your thanks. I did what I thought was right.” I turned to leave, but paused mid-stride. I looked King in the eye. "Just for the record, don’t mess with Charlie. I don’t want her involved in FPD or Order politics. She gets enough of that crap from her family. If she gets hurt you’ll have me to deal with, and I don’t play well with others.”

  He stared at me pointedly for a long while before responding. “I can respect that.”

  “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make myself some dinner and have another Scotch. You don't need to say goodbye when you leave.” I headed back toward the kitchen, leaving him standing in the hall alone.

  THIRTEEN

  January seventeenth

  When I walked into the living room, Rick was standing at the counter with his back to the door. I headed straight for the liquor cabinet. The last few days had been a roller coaster ride. Tonight was my night off, and a Scotch was in order.

  “Want a drink?” I called over to him as I reached for the bottle.

  He turned at the sound of my voice, a folded sheet of paper in his hand. “I was just on my way out. I’ve imposed on your hospitality enough already. There are a few things I need to wrap up with the local authorities, but I still have my room at the motel.” He handed me the slip of paper and pulled on his jacket. “Here’s my contact information. Please don’t hesitate to call.”

  I hadn’t realized he was leaving too. There were still too many unanswered questions; I’d thought he’d stay so we could finish our chat. But he still had a job to do.

  Charlie and King were leaving soon, and I’d have the place to myself. This was exactly what I needed: time alone. But no matter how I tried to spin it, the thought terrified me. I didn’t want to be by myself. Not with all the questions and doubts I had.

  I left the bottle of Glenmorangie and joined Rick in the kitchen. I wasn’t done with him, and I wanted to give him an excuse to stay.

  “I was a bitch this afternoon. Let me make it up to you. I’ll make us dinner. I’m sure I have something to cook,” I said, opening the fridge.

  The barren shelves offered no solution. The Chinese leftovers, eggs, and milk from the last two days were the only things remotely edible. They sat alongside random condiments and some ancient takeout containers, the contents of which I was pretty sure had evolved and were now sentient, they’d been in there so long.

  “Maybe a pizza?” I shrugged.

  His lips narrowed and he studied me for a long moment, more than likely debating the sanity of spending any more time with me. I’d done my best bipolar imitation, running hot and cold for the last three days, and I wouldn’t blame him for leaving. But instead of him hitting the door, that lazy smile of his returned.

  “Why Olivia, I’d love to have a date with you—but let’s go out. I hear there’s a decent steak house the next town over.” He leaned against the counter, looping his thumbs in his pockets. He nodded, as though it was the best idea he’d heard all week. “Yes. A beautiful woman, a steak, and some cold beer. Just the way I like to celebrate closing a case.”

  “I wasn’t asking you on a date. I just thought I could…Maybe you’d want to…” I stammered, trying to figure out how this had gotten turned around on me. “Dinner. That’s all I meant.”

  “I’d love to have dinner alone with you,” he said, still making it sound like a date. I started to protest again, but Rick held up a hand. “No strings attached. I promise.”

  He attempted an innocent doe-eyed look, but I wasn’t fooled. Randy’s Steakhouse might only be a local place, but it was far more intimate a setting than I had intended. I was about to suggest Sally’s, or even the chicken joint on Route 9, when he continued. “I owe you for your help. Without you, I don’t think I would have been able to find Molly in time. When was the last time you got dressed up and had someone treat you to a night out?”

  I couldn’t remember how long it had been since that had happened. I studied Rick for what felt like an hour, but had to be only a few moments. He was charming, funny, and an expert flirt. And yes, he made me feel feminine and desirable every time he looked at me. So what if we called it a date. He already had one foot out the door, and I probably wouldn’t see him again after tonight.

  I was starting to warm to the idea, but I wasn’t about to let him know it. With an exaggerated sigh, I said, “Fine, I’ll go change. But if I’m going on a date with you, you’re paying.”

  I casually walked out of the room, trying to maintain the impression that I couldn’t care less. When I heard his laugh, I knew he’d seen right through me.

  Of course, this brought me to my other problem. I had nothing to wear. The clothes in my wardrobe went from one extreme to another. My clubbing outfits were too risqué and my work attire too frumpy and conservative. I wanted something flirty, but not too sexy, which was near to impossible to pull off in January. Giving up, I finally settled on a slim-fitting pair of jeans and a clingy sweater with a low-cut neckline that accentuated my bust. Satisfied, I ran back to the clinic to let Charlie know I was leaving.

  I found her alone in the hall bathroom, fixing her makeup. “I just wanted to let you know I’m going to dinner.”

  With a skill I’d never mastered, Charlie swept the eye shadow brush across her eyelid, producing a sexy, come-hither look to her bright green eyes.

  “That’s not fair.” I said from the doorway. “If I do exactly the same thing, I’ll look like I’ve got two black eyes.”

  “Oh, honey, you’ve got other skills.”

  When she turned around, Charlie smiled and waggled her eyebrows, Groucho Marx style. “Hubba, hubba. I take it this dinner is with Rick? You look hot. You don’t need bedroom eyes when you have assets like yours. You’ll have him eating out of your hand. Or your assets.”

  “Charlie!” Embarrassed, I adjusted the sweater. “It’s not like that. He wants to thank me for my help. Since I have you alone,” I deflected, “I have to ask. Are you sure you want t
o leave with…Samuel?”

  “I’ll be fine. You act like he’s the big bad wolf.”

  I shook my head and sighed. “The FPD has a lot of power. Just be careful, and don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

  “Fine. I’ll be careful and keep my nose clean, but only if you promise me you won’t. Seriously, Olivia, it’ll do you some good to let loose. Rick is a nice guy. And even better, he seems to be the kryptonite to your super bitch. I’ve seen the way you get all goo-goo-eyed and sweet when he’s around.”

  “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

  “He’s been in town how long, and how many meals have you had with him?” I tried to protest, but she shooed me out the door. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying yourself. Now go have some fun, you crazy kids.”

  Knowing she was right—it had been a long time since I’d just enjoyed myself—I headed back down the hall determined to have a good time. Rick was taking this whole date thing seriously, and I had to laugh when he helped me with my jacket and insisted on opening the door.

  “You know, I’ve managed to do that on my own for a very long time,” I teased.

  “You agreed to a date; I’m just giving you the full treatment. You look amazing, by the way.” His gaze traveled down the length of my body.

  My cheeks warmed under his attention, and I ducked into the car, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

  The car ride to the next town seemed short; the conversation made the time fly by. We chatted about cases we’d worked and places we’d been. Rick told me about his travels and grilled me about living in Sycamore Springs. He had a way of drawing out information, the subtle use of interest and followup that made it easy for someone (even me) to tell him things, and by the time we’d reached Randy’s Steakhouse it had started to feel like a real date.

  Randy’s was popular with the locals, and even though it was still early, the place was crowded. The first available table was in the middle of the room, and I’ll admit I was a little disappointed. It would have been nice to get a table tucked in the back, but instead it felt like we were on display.