His lips thinned slightly, and then he said, “I know you think you’re like every other cop, but you’re not. You’re mine, and I don’t want to lose you.”
“I’m tough,” she said.
“You’re fragile.”
“I am not,” she argued.
“Precious things are always fragile.”
She didn’t have an immediate response, since he’d stolen her breath away with that statement. Precious was not a word she’d thought he could ever speak, and yet he’d used it, however reluctantly.
He added, as if to turn her mind away from the subject, “In the beginning, I slept with you so you’d request a transfer.”
“I know,” she said without rancor.
“We’ve just upped the ante, Moonbeam. You can’t be my partner anymore, and I don’t trust you with anyone else.”
Hope took a sip of her coffee. “Let’s don’t fight, not today.”
His stony expression relaxed just a bit. “I thought you said I was cute when I got mad.”
She laughed. “You are. I still don’t want to fight with you today.”
“Why not?”
The truth. Nothing but the truth. “Right now I feel too good, and I don’t want to spoil it.”
He wrapped an arm around her. “There are gifts that come with giving birth to a Raintree baby, gifts that are a part of being Raintree. You’ll heal faster, live longer, be healthier. You and whatever children we make will have protection charms, I’ll see to that. And still, if I could, I would lock you up in a place where you’d always be safe. A place where no one could ever hurt you or Emma.”
“Exactly where is that place, Gideon?”
He didn’t answer, because there was no answer; there was no such place.
“Besides,” she said, “I have to help you put Frank Stiles away. Knowing is fine, but we need evidence.”
He seemed perfectly willing to turn the conversation toward business. His business of stopping monsters. “There’s not any. He burned the house down after he killed Johnny Ray Black. We’ve got no evidence.”
“Then we need a confession or a witness.”
“I haven’t been able to obtain either.”
She smiled at him. “You haven’t given me a chance to try yet. I’m very good at getting confessions.”
He almost smiled. “I just bet you are.”
She stared out at the ocean, drinking in the beauty of it as if she, too, could literally absorb its power through her skin. How could this place already feel like home? Not the house, not the beach. Gideon. Gideon Raintree was home.
It was an oddly comforting and frightening thought, very much like the prospect of motherhood and all that would come with it.
FOURTEEN
Saturday—Noon
They were getting nowhere fast with the info on the vehicle Tabby had been driving four months ago. Gideon had left Charlie following up that information, trying to wring something useful from it, and then he’d headed here.
The motel room where Lily Clark had been killed had been sealed off. No one but the crime scene investigators had been in this room since she’d been murdered. Her spirit stood in the corner of the room, solid and angry.
Hope insisted that she didn’t have any unnatural powers of any sort, and yet she stood back and rubbed her arms as if warding off a chill on this warm day. She sensed the anger and sadness here; she still felt the violence.
“You said you were going to get her,” Lily said, so furious that her image flickered.
“I’m working on it,” Gideon said softly.
Hope stood behind him, just a few feet away, listening. He had to admit that it was nice not to have to hide what he could do. It was nice to be able to talk to Lily without tricking his partner into leaving the room or pretending to be talking to himself.
“Tabby was in this room for a long time,” Hope said gently. “Knowing she killed Lily Clark is one thing, but we need physical evidence. There has to be something. She must’ve left some kind of clue behind.”
“She’s careful,” Gideon said as he paced at the end of the bed.
“She left a hair at the Sherry Bishop scene. She left a witness at the Marcia Cordell site, and that’s downright sloppy. There must be something here as well.” Hope walked deeper into the room. “All the crime scene techs found were a few fibers that could have been here for days. Weeks, even. This isn’t exactly the cleanest motel in town. Tabby must have touched a surface she forgot to wipe down or left something behind or…”
“She took a shower after I was dead,” Lily said gently, her anger fading. “She had to, because my blood was all over her. On her face and in her hair and on her clothes…I think she liked it….”
“What did she do with her bloody clothes?” Gideon asked.
“I don’t know.”
Gideon nodded to Hope. “My cell phone is all but useless to me today.” Tomorrow was the summer solstice, and his electrical surges were coming more frequently than usual. “Call Charlie and have him get the crime scene techs in here to check the shower drain. Today,” he added forcefully.
Hope pulled out her own cell phone and made the call, and Gideon walked closer to Lily Clark’s much-too-solid image. “You can find those clothes for us,” he said. “Your blood, a part of you, is there, and if you concentrate, you can find them. I can’t guarantee that the clothes will lead us to the woman who killed you, but it’s a possibility.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” the ghost whispered.
“You can see so much more now, if you try. Think about that night. Remember what happened after. You watched Tabby walk out that door.”
“Yes,” Lily whispered. “I screamed at her, but she didn’t hear me. I tried to stop her, but I couldn’t do anything.”
“Did she have the clothes with her? Were they wadded up or stuffed in a bag or—”
“She was wearing my favorite dress,” Clark whined. She seemed to view that as just another indignity. “What nerve.”
“What about the clothes she was wearing when she killed you? Did she have them with her when she left?”
Lily cocked her head and turned her mind back to that night, even though she undoubtedly wanted nothing more than to forget. Maybe when this was done and she moved on she would forget. No one should carry such painful memories with them for eternity. “No,” she said thoughtfully. “All she was carrying was her purse. The knife was in it, freshly washed and wrapped in one of my nightgowns, and there wasn’t room in that purse for her clothes, too. She loved that knife,” the spirit added. “She touched it like it was alive.”
Gideon turned to Hope, who had just ended her phone call. “The clothes are here somewhere.”
“The room was searched,” she said.
Gideon walked into the bathroom. “Lily, did Tabby ever carry those bloody clothes out of this bathroom? After she had that shower, did she bring the clothes back out?”
The ghost shook her head, and Gideon glanced up at the tiles in the ceiling.
It would take a few days to get solid evidence from the clothes and the towel Gideon had found hidden above the ceiling tiles, but it was a step. They didn’t expect Tabby would have her name and address stitched into the clothes she’d worn, but at least they had something concrete, and there was bound to be recoverable DNA. All they needed was Tabby in custody so a match could be made.
They’d hit a dead end with the vehicle, which was all they’d gotten out of Dennis Floyd—who was locked up in a Hale County jail, still terrified that Tabby would find him, somehow. No blue Taurus in North Carolina was registered to anyone named Tabby or Tabitha, and none of the Catherines were a match. They would now begin searching all females, but damn, it was a long list.
Hope didn’t think they had that kind of time before Tabby struck again.
Gideon pulled the Mustang to the curb in front of The Silver Chalice, and Hope leaned over to kiss him briefly. “Be here by seven, if you can,” she said, an
d then she smiled. “Sunny is a better cook than I am, so you’re going to have to learn to grab a good meal when you get the chance.”
“Are we going to tell them the news over peach cobbler?” Gideon asked.
“Not yet.” Hope wasn’t sure how to tell her mother and her sister that she was going to marry this man she’d met on Monday. And as for Emma, there was no logical explanation. Not that her mother had ever required logic for anything.
Gideon nodded, visibly relieved. Maybe he wasn’t ready for explanations, either. “I’ll be back by seven.” He was going to the station to help Charlie with the vehicle search, unable to give up just yet. Unable to rest. She supposed that was something she would have to learn to live with.
“Sure you don’t want me to tag along?”
“It’s Saturday, and you need some time to visit with your sister before she heads for home.”
“Yeah, partners or not, it’s not like we’re joined at the hip or anything.” So why did she hate the very idea of watching him drive away? Tabby had been quiet for a couple of days. It was possible, even probable, that she’d left town after she’d stabbed Gideon. If she had a brain in her head, she’d run that very night. Gideon had seen her, and so had Hope. Hope wasn’t so sure Tabby’s brain worked in any logical manner; however, anything was possible.
Even if Tabby was still around, Raintree could take care of himself. So could she. They both had protection charms, weapons and better-than-average instincts. Her eyes flitted to the building across the street.
“They’re still there,” Gideon said.
“For how long?”
“Until we catch Tabby or have proof that she’s out of the picture.”
“I’d rather catch her.”
“Me, too.”
He kissed her again, and she exited the Mustang. The Silver Chalice was busy, as it of ten was on a Saturday afternoon. Tourists and regulars perused the items for sale, and there was a class of some kind going on in a back room. Meditation, vibrational healing…things Hope had always dismissed as nonsense.
She was able to look at the people in her mother’s shop with new eyes today. Maybe they knew something she didn’t. Maybe they saw or heard or touched things that had always been invisible to her, the way Gideon did.
An upside-down world wasn’t as unsettling as she’d imagined it might be. In fact, she was finding it more comforting than she’d thought possible.
Tabby slung the big purse off her shoulder and set it down behind a display of copper bells, partially hidden behind a book rack. This corner of the store was crowded with merchandise and was also unoccupied at the moment.
Normally she wouldn’t spend a second longer than was necessary in this place. The people here sought positive energy and were, for the most part, peaceful and calm. There was no power for Tabby in being in their company. She took no joy in this place, and in fact, it made her a little antsy. Still, she could hardly run into the shop, drop off the bomb and run out again, so she pretended to be interested in the merchandise.
She glanced up when the door opened with the jingling of a bell and smiled when she saw Raintree’s woman walk in. Well, this would be a nice bonus.
Even though the cop had chased her down the riverfront, Tabby didn’t fear being spotted here today. She was wearing a short dark wig and a baggy dress that disguised her shape. She stooped to diminish her height. There would be nothing familiar about her even if the cop noticed her. In any case, the woman wasn’t even suspicious. At the moment the detective was happy to the point of distraction.
Tabby felt that happiness the same way she was able to feel fear and horror, but she took no pleasure or strength from it. She did, however, take pleasure in knowing that happiness would be short-lived.
She walked away, leaving her oversized purse behind.
It was tough to help when getting too near the computer wasn’t wise, but Gideon tried. He looked at the vehicular records Charlie had printed out, and he scanned driver’s license photos until the faces all started to blur. Maybe Tabby’s name wasn’t Tabby after all. Maybe the car had been stolen from another state and the tags switched, and had been recovered or burned by now. Whatever the reason, he was getting nowhere.
He sent Charlie home with thanks and the promise of a get-together at the beach house, and sat down with the files of the unsolved murders that might or might not be Tabby’s work. Some cases came together quickly. Murderers weren’t usually the brightest colors in the box, and they left massive amounts of evidence behind. Tabby, if that was indeed her name, didn’t. She wiped down doorknobs; she cleaned up after herself. Dennis Floyd and the bloody clothes from the hotel and a couple of hairs were all they had. And none of those would do any good unless—until—they caught her. When they did catch her, all that evidence would be enough to put her away forever.
His cell phone rang, and since there was no one else around to answer for him, he did it himself. The caller ID listed a Charlotte number, which meant it was likely Echo. She probably wanted to know if it was safe for her to come home. She was going to have a fit when he told her no.
There was so much static on the line that he could barely hear her. She was frantic, that much was clear, and he heard one word clearly. Dream. He told her to call him again on the landline in his office. Obviously she’d had a prophetic dream that alarmed her. He’d calmed her down a hundred times, after disturbing prophecies.
He couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. At least he could do something with his abilities. There were many times when it seemed as if it would never be enough, but he did make a difference. Echo couldn’t, not without advertising what she could do to the public. The Raintree never advertised their abilities. Besides, how did you stop a disaster when the warning always came so close to the event? Minutes, sometimes. No more than an hour in most cases. Maybe, if she worked at honing her skills, the warnings would come with more lead time, but Echo was determined not to hone her skills.
If Emma’s talents took such a sad turn, would he want her to practice so that every dream was filled with horror?
The phone on his desk rang, and he answered, “Raintree.”
“I took a nap,” Echo said without preamble. “I just…fell asleep on the couch, you know, and I had this dream. I don’t understand this one, Gideon. It’s not like the others.”
“Tell me about it,” he said, remaining calm.
“There was an explosion. I couldn’t see where it was, but there were people,” she said in a low, shaking voice. “Lots of people. They didn’t know it was coming. One minute they were happy and laughing, and then…There was so much blood, and there was fire, and people were screaming….”
The odds were that it was already too late to help anyone, but he had to try. “Calm yourself and think back. There had to be a hint in the dream as to where this explosion took place. Just take a deep breath and go there, Echo. You can do it.” Whether she wanted to or not, she could do it.
He heard her take that deep breath. “It doesn’t make sense,” she said, only slightly calmer. “It wasn’t just people, Gideon. I mean, there were lots of people, and they were cut and burned. But the sun exploded, a big bright rainbow faded into nothing and disappeared, and the moon broke apart into a million tiny pieces….”
“I know what that means!” Gideon slammed down the phone, lifted it again and dialed The Silver Chalice. Normally he would call on the run, but his damned cell phone wouldn’t do for this call. Not today. He couldn’t take the chance that he would get cut off, or that Hope wouldn’t be able to understand. Rainbow answered, and his heart almost returned to a normal rhythm. He wasn’t too late. “This is Gideon. I need to talk to Hope.”
“Hope’s around here somewhere,” Rainbow Malory said casually. “I just saw her looking at some new…”
“This is an emergency,” Gideon interrupted. “I want you to get everyone out of the shop.”
“But—”
“Now.”
He hat
ed to do this, but he had no choice. “There’s a bomb in your store.” Then he slammed down the phone and ran out of the office. He had other phone calls to make, but he would have to make do with the cell, interference or not.
From her seat by the window at the café across the street from The Silver Chalice, Tabby muttered a curse word as people began to stream out of the shop. Even from here, she could tell they were afraid and confused. She saw and felt it. Someone had found the bomb.
That didn’t mean it wouldn’t go off, or that she wouldn’t still have Gideon Raintree right where she wanted him, but it would have been nice to have a few fireworks to enjoy before things got under way. Panic was always so lovely to enjoy, and the terror of hearing bomb as opposed to the terror that came from actually experiencing it were very different sensations.
She studied the people who streamed from the shop, waiting for the female cop to show. The stream of people turned into a trickle, and the woman wasn’t among them. Tabby heard sirens in the near distance. Gideon Raintree was no doubt right behind the responding emergency vehicles. He might even get here before them.
Tabby took more than enough cash to pay for her coffee from the deep pocket of her oversized dress and placed it on the table. Then, with the tabletop shielding her hands from view, she removed the knife from the leather scabbard at her thigh and slipped it into her pocket, where it would be handy. Not that she was likely to need it. Much as she loved to work with her blade, she had a much more efficient weapon stashed in the back stairwell of the building across the street.
Ready for Raintree once again, determined to complete her task here and now, Tabby stood and headed outside.
The woman who owned The Silver Chalice stood on her tiptoes and searched the crowd, no doubt looking for her daughter. Tabby smiled. Maybe she would get that bonus after all.
Hope had intended just to change clothes, but her bed had looked so good that she’d fallen into it for a quick nap. After all, she hadn’t exactly had lots of sleep this week. She fell asleep easily, snug in her familiar bed, warmed to her bones in a way she hadn’t been warmed in a very long time.
Raintree: Haunted Page 18
