by Jill Sanders
“She didn’t drown.” Her eyes moved to the water. “It’s her grave, not where she died.”
“Where did she die?” he asked, wondering why he couldn’t let it go.
“Over there.” She nodded to where the cars sat. “Almost thirty years ago.” She turned to him. “By her lover’s hand.” He waited. “Her husband was an ass, so she had started having an affair with one of her son’s schoolteachers. They met here on occasion, but when she became pregnant, she demanded he leave his wife for her, promising to leave her husband. Instead of running away together, she ended up here.” Her eyes moved to the dark water.
“And the teacher?” He drew her closer to him when he noticed her shivering.
“Lived a happy life until her body was discovered a few years back. Her husband had spent fifteen years in jail for her death, until forensic evidence proved him innocent. The teacher, Carl Simon, ended up killing himself a few days after her body was found. He left a note for his wife. He had been riddled with guilt and confessed to killing Beth.”
“Then why is she still here?” he asked, looking at the mist once more.
“To see the happiness.” She nodded towards the cars. “The love she never was allowed to have.”
“Why don’t you…” He waved his fingers towards her. “Do your magic and send her on her way?
She laughed. Not a little chuckle, but a full-blown laugh. “I’m not Samantha.”
He tilted his head in question.
“You know, from Bewitched?”
He shook his head again.
“There are some serious holes in your knowledge of old television shows.” She shook her head and took his hand, once again leading him down the pathway, only this time they were heading back towards her car.
“I haven’t sent her on her way yet”—she glanced over her shoulder— “because she isn’t harming anyone. Besides, no one else knows she’s here.” She stopped at the hood of her car. “And I think, underneath the hurt and betrayal, she rather enjoys where she’s at. I get the feeling it’s the first time in her… life, she’s actually happy.” She smiled.
He nudged her until her back was up against the side of her car. “Like I said, amazing.” He leaned in and laid his lips gently over hers. He doubted he’d get used to feeling the spark that happened each time he touched her. Or the desire that welled up every time he looked at her.
His hands roamed over her hips as her fingers pulled his head closer by closing around his hair. When her nails scraped the skin along his neck, he felt his control slip slightly.
“I don’t know how much longer I can wait,” he said between breaths. He felt like he’d just run a marathon.
“I know,” she said under her breath.
“Why wait?” he asked, pulling back and looking down into her green eyes. “What’s the reason?”
She leaned back against the car and shook her head. “Right now, I can’t think of one.”
He smiled. “How about you let me drive?”
Silently, she pulled her keys from her pocket and handed them over to him.
***
Talk about nerves. Xtina thought she would get herself back under control by the time he pulled into his driveway, but instead, she felt even more nervous than when she’d handed him her keys.
She’d done a few really stupid things in her life, and she was starting to question if being with Michael would be one of them. There was no way she would be able to hide the way she felt about him if he took her inside. Normally, she would be able to mask her feelings by focusing on what the person touching her was feeling. But now. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths as he shut off the engine. But before she had a moment to cool down, his mouth was covering hers in a kiss that had all those emotions she’d been so desperately trying to hide surface full force.
Her hands went into his thick brown hair, holding him closer until she felt her entire body shiver with desire. She didn’t know if it was her own, or if she was feeling the desire that was clearly radiating from him. Either way, she knew she’d been a fool to question being with him. This was right. This was what should be happening. And the sparks between them were proof.
His hands moved under her shirt, brushing across her bare skin, and she moaned with delight.
“My god,” he groaned across her skin just under her ear. “I want you so bad.” He trailed his mouth down to just above her shirt collar.
“Michael,” she said as she leaned her head back against the headrest. Then she laughed when he tugged lightly on her shirt to expose more skin. His head jerked up and then his eyes met hers.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Going too fast?”
She shook her head. “Not if we were inside.” She nodded towards his front door.
“Right.” He pulled away and quickly got out of her car, leaving the keys in the ignition. Reaching over, she shoved them in her purse and waited for him to open the door.
When the door opened, she reached her hand out and took his. At that same moment, there was a flash in her mind. Pain shot up her arm towards her temples. A blinding light flooded her eyesight until a new scene unfolded in front of her.
She was outside an old hotel, the one that looked like it was off of Highway 23. The place had been in desperate need of remodeling when Xtina had been a child. Now, it appeared as if it should be condemned instead.
Laura was there, reaching for the door handle to room number 18. When she opened the door, she saw her husband on the floor, his massive body slumped near the edge of the bed. Laura rushed over to him, taking his shoulders and shaking them. When her fingers came back soaked in blood, she started screaming as his body rolled to the ground.
Leaning down, she listened for a breath, but didn’t hear anything. She felt for a pulse with shaky fingers, as tears began to form in her eyes. Her mind had just jumped to the idea of calling for help when, from the corner of her eye, she saw a dark figure before everything went blank.
Xtina fell backwards against her car as her body convulsed. She could hear Michael yelling at her, but his voice sounded too far away.
Then she was being carried towards the house and she snapped free of the panic.
“No,” she jerked, trying to break free. “I have to…”
“Get a drink of water.” He set her down, none too gently, on his sofa as he walked over and poured her a glass of water. “Drink first, then tell me what you saw.”
His face had gone completely pale. When she was finished drinking, he took the glass from her, making sure not to touch her fingers.
“Was it the alley?” he asked, soberly.
“Alley?” She shook her head, not understanding. “I…” Then it dawned on her. He’d been touching her. He assumed she’d finally seen what had happened to him that night his partner had died. “No, it’s Laura.” She stood up, feeling steadier. “I have to call the police.” She reached for her phone, only to realize that she must have dropped her purse outside.
“Who’s Laura?” He stood up and followed her towards the door.
“A… friend.” She glanced over her shoulder. “She’s in trouble.”
“I’ll drive.” He reached down and picked up her purse from the front porch, where she’d almost absently stepped over it.
Taking out her keys, she handed them to him and then pulled out her cell phone. “The little motel off 23,” she said, following him to the car. “Drive fast. I think someone’s going to kill her.”
He stopped, then turned towards her. “You stay here.” He started to rush back to the door. “I’ll get my gun.” She jerked him to a stop.
“There’s no time.”
His sarcastic laughter stopped her. “What?” she said impatiently.
“You tell me that someone is at a motel room, trying to kill someone, and you want to rush in without a weapon?”
“Yes,” she growled. “We have to go now.” She felt a pulse in her skull and almost hunched over with the new pain. “Now!”
He shoved her back into the car, then sped out of the driveway, spraying rocks as the car whipped around.
“Call the cops.” He cursed when the car fishtailed slightly as they hit the main road.
“On it.” She took out her phone and called. Suddenly, she realized she didn’t know what to say. So instead of a long story, she lied.
“I saw a man hurting a woman at the motel on 23. Hurry, it looks like she’s bleeding.” She hung up and tucked the phone into her purse. She knew they would have her number and she would have to explain exactly how she’d seen all this from behind closed doors, but she figured she’d deal with it later.
By the time they pulled into the hotel, she was no longer getting anything from Laura and was pretty sure they were too late.
“There.” She pointed to the door.
“Stay here,” he growled out. He turned and looked at her. “I mean it.” When she nodded, he jumped out of the car and knocked on the door.
“Housekeeping,” he called out, trying the door handle, then he leaned his ear against the door.
She watched him take a step back and kick the door open with one quick motion. When he disappeared into the room, her heart completely stopped beating. Her eyes were glued to the front door, counting the seconds until he appeared again.
He moved over to her side of the doorway and motioned for her to roll the window down.
“What?” she asked, fear emanating from her entire body.
“I think you need to come in and comfort your friend.”
“She’s…” She swallowed.
“Alive. She has a pretty big bump on her head, but her husband…” He shook his head. “Come on.” He opened her door and held out his hand. “Stay with her until the police arrive.”
She nodded, then followed him inside. It was just as she’d seen in her mind. Her husband, Daniel, was laying just where she knew he would be. Only this time, she knew there was no way anyone could revive him.
Laura sat in the corner in an old green chair, crying into a towel while holding another bloody one up to her head.
When she noticed Xtina, her eyes closed. “I…” She shook her head. “I tried to save him.”
“I know,” she said, rushing over to her side. This time, she mentally prepared for the onslaught of emotions before she touched the woman to comfort her.
“We were supposed to meet.” Her eyes met Xtina’s. “For a date night.” Xtina blocked the images she’d seen in the coffee shop. “I was late getting off work. When I came in…” Laura’s eyes moved over to where her husband lay. “He was barely breathing.”
“The cops are here,” Mike broke in. The sound of his voice temporarily broke her concentration and she let down her guard as her hand lay on Laura’s shoulder.
Images of Laura and another man flashed hard and fast in her mind. So much so that Xtina almost fell backwards, her hand dropping from her shoulder.
“What have you done?” she whispered, her eyes going to the other woman’s.
“I don’t know what you mean?” Laura’s eyes darted towards the door. “I tried to save him,” she repeated. “My husband was shot before I got here. More tears burst from her eyes and her voice rose slightly as the police walked in. “Then someone hit me over the head. He killed my husband!” She almost screamed it.
Xtina’s eyes narrowed and she stood up straight. When she turned to the police, she met Michael’s eyes and he must have read her thoughts.
“We should step out and let the police get to work.” He took her arm and her mind cleared. “We’ll be outside when you’re ready for us to answer questions.” He tugged on her arm until she followed him into the cool night air.
“She was in on it,” she said softly. “She had her lover kill her husband and then hit her over the head so it would look like she wasn’t involved.” He stopped her a few feet away and took her shoulders, then turned her towards him.
“You sure?” he asked. When she gave him a look, he sighed. “Yeah, I guess you are. Any chance you might know where her lover is or what his name is?”
She closed her eyes and then shook her head. “I’ve never seen something like this before without touching someone.” He shook her head. “We were almost five miles away from Laura when I saw…” She tilted her head. “Give me your hand.” She held out her own.
Michael looked down at her hand, then took it. Once more, she closed her eyes. Images started appearing slowly behind her closed lids. “He’s at the gas station on the edge of town. He’s cleaning the blood from his hands in the men’s restroom.”
Michael dropped his hand and rushed back into the room with the cops, one of which followed him out quickly. “What does he look like?” the police officer asked.
“Sandy blond hair, gray T-shirt, and dark blue jeans. He’s got a scar just above his left eye and a tattoo of an eagle on his left arm.”
“Stay put,” Michael called back to her, then shocked her by jumping into the vehicle with the other officer and driving away in the police cruiser.
“I’ll have a few questions for you in a minute.” The other officer, an older man, stepped into the doorway just as two more police cars arrived.
The next few minutes were filled with lights, sounds, and a million questions, most of which she didn’t know how to answer. Instead of rambling on, like Laura was doing, she sat silently and sipped the water a paramedic had handed her.
By the time her phone chimed with a new message from Michael, she was almost shaking with worry for him.
-I’m okay. We have him and are heading to the station. Can you pick me up here?
-Yes
She had a million questions for him. She also wondered how she would answer questions about how she knew exactly where the guy was. And how she knew that he and Laura had murdered her husband together.
The older officer broke into her thoughts. “Miss, we’d like to take you down to the office for further questioning.”
She held in a groan. She’d purposely never helped the police before because most of them didn’t believe in mediums or people who “saw” things.
She knew she was a suspect when Laura locked eyes with her and her chin rose slightly as if to say, ‘See, I got away with it and now I’m going to pin it on you.’
Well, the old Christina would have allowed it to happen, but Xtina was a different animal all together. A wild one that didn’t care if she was labeled anymore.
“I’ll follow you down there,” she said in a clear tone.
When they arrived at the simple teal stucco building, Michael was standing out front talking to a few officers. The smile on his face told her that he was enjoying the conversation.
She parked in the visitor’s spot and before she could open her door, he was there helping her out.
“You okay?” He took her into his arms.
“Yeah, you?” Her voice was muffled by his chest.
“Never better.” He pulled back and smiled down at her. “You ready to do this?” His chin dropped slightly.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I can’t hide it anymore, can I?”
A chuckle escaped his lips. “The cat’s out of the bag now.” He took her hand and started walking towards the building.
“Mike tells us he used to be on the force in Atlanta,” the cop from before said as they approached. “Also tells us you’ve got some…”—he waved his hands in a fluttering motion— “powers.” The two other police standing around them all watched her.
She turned to the one on the end, a chunky man who appeared to be in his late forties. When she held out her hands, he hesitated for only a moment before placing one of his own in hers.
She opened herself up to the images and tried to glean as much as she could.
“You’re Terry Jefferson, born Terrance William Jefferson. Your parents were both killed in a botched burglary in Houston when you were fifteen, sparking your interest in becoming a police officer. You lived with your
aunt and uncle, who took you in as their own and joined the force straight out of high school. You married your high school sweetheart and have two kids and three cats.”
She took a breath and stepped back, then turned to the next officer, the older man, who just shook his head and put his hands behind his back.
“Too much junk up here...”—he tapped his head— “I want to keep to myself.”
She smiled and inclined her head before turning to the last officer. It was the man who had been at the hotel before and had gone to the gas station. He was taller than Michael and appeared to be a few years older. He looked slightly familiar, but she figured it was just because she had seen him several times that night. His jaw was set and strong looking, yet his eyes carried softness and concern.
When she held out her hands, he smiled a sexy crooked smile with perfect teeth and took them in his own hands.
They were larger, but remained gently rested in her own hands. The instant they touched, power shot up her arms and she frowned. Her eyes met his and she blinked a few times.
“You have a gift,” she told him before images of the man as a child flooded her mind. “You never knew your birth parents and were adopted at a very young age.” Her voice broke the silence surrounding them. “They raised you in Hidden Creek. Your adopted father was the police chief until he retired last year. You’re hoping to someday take over as chief yourself.” She dropped her arms and shook her head from the all the other information she’d received. He’d been blocking a lot, but she’d gotten past his defenses and found out as much as she needed, more than even he knew she’d gained about him. So much so that she knew she had to talk to him in private, after they settled the matter at hand.
“So?” she said after a moment of silence. “Do I pass the test?”
Terry mumbled. “Anyone in town could find out my story.” He turned to them. “What?” he said upon receiving the looks. “It’s true. All you have to do is spend a few days in Hidden Creek and you can find out anything you want about anyone.” He shrugged.
She turned to him. “Your wife is pregnant with your third child, your first boy.” Her eyes met his. “Congratulations.”
