“Says her lawyer,” she said matter-of-factly. “Pass the cream and sugar, please.”
Um, yeah, not going to happen. “Wait a minute, Mom. You’re not my lawyer. I don’t need a lawyer because I’m innocent.”
“Innocent of what, exactly?” My father slid the cream and sugar in front of my mother and faced the detective head-on. “What exactly has my daughter done this time?”
“Dad!”
“I take it she has a history of getting into trouble?” The detective set his nearly empty tea down and wrote in his notebook.
“Not trouble per se.” Mom waved her hands about. “Just predicaments with her little hobby.”
“Mom!”
“Hobby?” Detective Stone asked, writing more of God-knew-what in that damn notebook of his.
“You know, her little fortune-teller act,” Mom clarified.
“So you don’t believe she’s psychic, either?” The detective looked at both my parents with renewed interest.
“Good Lord, no,” Dad answered. “She’s seen some things that have come true in a roundabout way, I suppose, but we simply chalk it up to coincidence. Being a man of science, it’s hard for me to be a ‘true believer,’ as she calls them.” He looked at me and winced. “Sorry, honey. The truth hurts, but you need to hear it for your own good, so you will stop wasting your life and do something real.” He took a sip of his coffee, then cursed.
“Careful, dear,” Mom said, dabbing the corners of her mouth, her eyes darting about the kitchen. “There’s something odd about this house and everything in it.”
“That burned my lip.” Dad rubbed his mouth. “I don’t remember the coffee being that hot. It’s almost as if the cup heated itself.”
I ground my teeth hard, as if I were grinding fennel seeds in the mortar while making my tea. “My fortune-telling is not an act, Mother. Or a hobby. It happens to be what I do. Who I am. Like it or not, Dad, I’m not normal like you guys.”
The detective grunted. “I could have told you that.” He never looked up, still writing in his book . . . until his pen broke and spurted ink all over the front of his white dress shirt. “What the hell?” He jumped back and grabbed a napkin, scrubbing the darkening stain.
“Serves you right. And you might want to blot, not rub, the threads right off,” I pointed out, enjoying every minute of my afternoon tea.
“Thanks.” Detective Stone narrowed his eyes.
“Anytime.” I batted my lashes at him. “On a more serious note, just because I have visions doesn’t make me a freak. It makes me special. You should be glad I can see into someone’s future. And if you had listened to me, Detective, Amanda Robbins might still be alive.”
“Oh, dear Lord, this whole mess doesn’t have something to do with one of your visions, does it?” Mom asked.
“She had a ‘vision’ of the librarian getting murdered by a man, and then it came true,” Detective Stone explained. “Or so she claims.” He shot a look at me and then turned to my dad. “Mr. Meadows, is there any way your daughter could have gotten hold of some of your digoxin?”
“Absolutely not. I don’t have digoxin lying around. No doctor does. It’s a controlled substance. Pharmaceutical reps aren’t allowed to sample it. The only way to get some would be to have a doctor write a prescription, and I can assure you, I didn’t write any for her. Since I know Sylvia doesn’t socialize with a doctor-type crowd, I’m confident there’s no way she could have gotten hold of digoxin. Why do you ask?”
“The tea leaves she gave the librarian were laced with digoxin.”
My mother spit her tea out all over my table, and a soft noise echoed from the other side of the room, sounding suspiciously like a chuckle. Mom puckered up her face. “Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear that bizarre cat of yours is close by and laughing at me.”
“Mother, please.” I wiped up the mess. “You don’t seriously believe I murdered that poor woman, do you?”
“No more than I believe cats can laugh, but someone obviously wants us to think you did. You need a lawyer whether you like it or not. Putting our differences aside, you know I’m the best there is.”
“That settles it. We’re not going anywhere until this case is solved.” Dad nodded.
“Oh, yes you are.” I stood. “You’ve got an inn to check in to, and I can defend myself. I’m twenty-nine years old. I can make my own decisions.”
“Fine, but we’re still not leaving, dear. You’ll change your mind, I’m sure of it. Come along, Donald.” Mom got up and led the way to the door. “We’ll be right here in town waiting when you do, Sylvia.”
“Good day, Detective.” Dad slapped his hat on his head. “You know where to find us if you have any more questions. You have our full cooperation. Our daughter might be a little different, but she’s not a murderer. You have my word on that, and a Meadows never breaks his word.”
With that, they were gone.
I sighed, rubbing my throbbing temples, and a deep meow rumbled softly, sounding more like a groan.
Detective Stone twisted completely around, his hand hovering just above his weapon. “I, uh, gotta run, Tink, but make no mistake . . . I’m nowhere near done with you. I’ve got a case to solve. I won’t let up on you until I get some answers.” He bumped into the table, knocked over his teacup, and the last little bit of liquid spilled into his saucer. He righted the cup and set it down on the table. “Thanks for the tea.”
“You’re welcome, Detective. Just know I won’t go down without a fight.”
“I’m counting on it.” He nodded once, with a gleam in his eye that said he loved a challenge, and then he closed the door on his way out.
I huffed out a breath, then couldn’t help but giggle a bit. “Where are you, you stinker? You are one mischievous old cat.” Vicky might have character, but I had a suspicious feeling I’d just discovered who was doing the haunting.
I was answered with a full-blown loud meow.
“I know,” I agreed. “They make me angry, too, but if you don’t stop spooking people, word will get out and no one will come to me for a reading.”
The meowing quieted to a soft purr.
“Apology accepted.” I started cleaning up the mess in the kitchen. “Now quit being elusive and come out of hiding to keep me company.”
I looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of Morty, when my wandering eyes landed on the detective’s teacup. It was sitting there, calling to me. Biting my bottom lip, I picked up the cup still warm from his hand and pointed the stem to the seat where he had sat. Did I dare? I probably wouldn’t get much of a reading, but he had come to me for some answers. I couldn’t help wonder what question had been burning in his mind the most?
Morty magically appeared from nowhere and circled my feet, rubbing up against my legs. I took it as a sign.
Talking myself into doing something I would never normally do—invading someone’s privacy—I rationalized this wasn’t just anyone. This was Detective Stone, and he made no apologies about invading mine. He deserved everything he got.
Sitting down, I closed my eyes and breathed deep, relaxing my mind and body. Maybe, just maybe, I would see something. Anything to help me understand the man I was up against. Opening my eyes, I peered into the cup and studied the pattern of tea leaves he’d inadvertently made.
The first thing that jumped out at me was a mask. The good detective was hiding something. Big surprise there. The next thing I saw was a distinct heart, representing love and pleasure. He’d fallen hard for someone, and I couldn’t help but think about his ex-girlfriend. Right below it was a pair of scissors. The relationship had ended in quarrels and separations. The strongest feeling I got that overrode everything the cup revealed was that of intense passion.
So much passion.
My head snapped back and once again everything around me blurred, leaving only the scene being played out before me in the center of my tunnel vision. I stared through the eyes of a woman being held so tenderly
in the detective’s strong arms. I could feel his warm embrace, experience every sensation coursing through her body.
His head dipped toward her, the look in his eyes unmistakable. Lust, passion . . . love. Then his lips pressed firmly against hers, moving sensually, as pure, raw electricity passed between them. That same electricity roared through my body now, firing up every nerve ending, every cell, every blood vessel. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, could barely stand from the sheer pleasure of it all.
They broke apart, and I nearly fell off my chair. Gripping the teacup harder, I felt as breathless as the woman whose eyes I had just stared through. My heart ached, and the same helpless, hopeless feeling she felt, I felt. I couldn’t hear what they said, but they argued, and he stormed out. Dejected and devastated, she turned toward the mirror, and I gasped.
The relationship hadn’t happened in the past. I’d read the wrong side of the cup. Not the one that represented the past but the one that predicted the future. This woman was setting herself up for the biggest heartache of her life.
The woman was me.
No way in hell would I allow myself to get involved with Detective Stone. I was smarter than that. I nodded with conviction. He was stubborn and annoying and determined to put me in jail. Besides, it took two to start a relationship, and it was easy to see I was clearly not the detective’s type.
My body quaked, remembering the detective’s kiss, even if it hadn’t happened yet. If just the memory of it did amazing things to me, I shivered to think how the real deal would affect me. I swallowed hard, regretting going so long without the company of a man. Stupid traitorous body. I took a deep breath, determined to get a firm grip on my hormones and my good sense.
Someone knocked on my front door, and I dropped the detective’s teacup, shattering it into a gazillion pieces and cutting my finger. “Ow!” I yelped, wrapping a napkin around my index finger. Glancing around, I noticed Morty had vanished once more. “Coming,” I yelled, jogging to the door. Who could possibly be here now?
I opened the door and Mitch stood there, tall and strong, filling my doorway. I sucked in a breath. “Wh-what do you want?” I shrieked.
He drew his brows together. “You having a spell or something?”
“Something like that,” I choked out.
“Should I call a doctor?” He stepped back a bit.
“I’ll be fine in a minute.” I fanned my face.
“Good, because I need you.”
“Okay, not fine.” I stumbled back, my heart racing harder.
He cursed under his breath, grabbed my arm to steady me, and walked me into my kitchen. He sat me down in a chair at the table and poured me a glass of water. “Here, drink this.” He looked around, his eyes settling on the shattered teacup. “Well, that’s a mess.”
“Exactly. It would be a huge mess, that’s why it’s so not gonna happen.”
“Okay.” He tipped his head to the side and stared at me as though I really was having some sort of spell.
I gulped down the water, took a moment to clear the fog from my brain, and then repeated, “You need me?”
He jerked a shoulder. “Yeah, that’s what I said. I need you to come with me to the police station.”
“Okay, that is not what you said. To the station gives an entirely different meaning to that sentence.”
“Huh?” He ran a hand through his thick hair. “Never mind. We don’t have time for you to have a breakdown. Grab your coat.”
“Gee, my knight in shining armor.” I scoffed, grabbed my coat, and barely had time to lock up Vicky before he shoveled me into his squad car for the third time.
“This is really beginning to get on my nerves, Detective.”
“You and me both, Tink, but there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”
“Now who’s the one who’s not making any sense?” I crossed my arms and waited for an explanation from the tight-lipped conversationalist.
“We’re here,” he said, pulling his squad car into the police station.
“Why are we here again? I already answered all of your questions, and so have my parents. What more could you possibly want from me?” Shoot, I shouldn’t have asked that. I chewed my lip, terrified of what he would say, and even more so of what I would do.
“I don’t want anything from you,” he answered, looking at me funny. “You okay? You’re acting weirder than normal, and you look a little pale.”
“Fine. Confused is all.”
“Look, Captain Walker called me right after I left your house, saying he wanted to speak to me. He asked me to bring you. I don’t know anything else, either. Believe me, I’m as confused as you.” He looked me over. “Well, maybe not just as confused.”
“You’re hilarious. Has anyone ever told you that?”
His lips moved, and I could tell he was fighting back a grin. “I have my moments.” He climbed out of the car and opened my door before I had a chance.
I refused to dwell on any of his positive qualities. My vision might have revealed incredible passion and chemistry between us, but it had also predicted heartache. Something I’d had more than my share of and didn’t want to experience ever again.
“You’d better lay off the tea. You look like crap,” he said.
“Thank you.” I felt remarkably better.
He’d reminded me of how wrong we were for each other, and that was all I needed. I planned to get this meeting over with, then stay out of his way while I did a little sleuthing of my own, as far away from Detective Stone as I could get. If he wasn’t near me, then there was no way my vision could possibly come true. The fact that all of my visions had always come true niggled at the back of my brain, but I simply had to believe there was a first time for everything. And a little help on my part couldn’t hurt.
“You’re welcome, I guess.” He reached for the door to the police station.
“I got it.” I grabbed it before he could and pulled it open. “Don’t do me any favors . . . really.” I wrinkled my nose at him and ushered him inside. “After you, Spanky.”
“You’re one strange woman, Tink.” He led the way inside with long purposeful steps.
“I’ve been called worse.” I hurried to catch up.
5
A tall, wiry man with a bald head and a neatly trimmed goatee opened the door to a room and stepped out into the hall. “Ah, just the man I wanted to see. Right on time as always, Detective Stone.”
Mitch shook the man’s hand firmly. “Captain Walker.” He turned to me. “Sunshine Meadows, meet my captain, Grady Walker.”
“So nice to meet you, sir,” I said with a smile, and shook the man’s hand.
“The pleasure’s all mine, ma’am.” He bowed slightly and then swept his hand toward his office. “Come on in and take a load off. We’ve got some business to discuss.”
My eyes briefly met the detective’s, and I could tell he really didn’t have any more of a clue than I did as to what this “business” was all about. I followed Mitch inside, then sat in an overstuffed chair across from the captain, who closed the blinds so the rest of the station couldn’t see us, then perched on the corner of his desk. Mitch walked over to the window and remained standing.
Finally, he turned around and faced his captain. “What’s this all about, sir?”
Captain Walker stared hard at Mitch. “You’re not going to like this, but you don’t have a choice.”
Mitch stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That means, this isn’t my decision. This is coming from the top. Mayor Cromwell is up for reelection. He wants this murder case solved quickly, and Chief Spencer is backing him up all the way. I was told in no uncertain terms that whatever it takes to get the job done, we will do.”
“And what exactly does he think it’s going to take?” Mitch asked, narrowing his eyes.
Captain Walker looked from Mitch to me and back to Mitch again. “You two working together.”
“Whaaat?” I shriek
ed, surging to my feet. The plan had been to stay away from Detective Stone, not work side by side with him.
“No way am I taking on a partner, Grady.” Mitch began to pace.
“I might be your friend, Mitch, but right now I’m speaking as your captain.” He scrubbed a palm over the top of his gleaming head. “My hands are tied on this one.”
“Well, untie them. She’s a suspect. You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious. Right now she’s the only lead we have. She knows more than any of us about what might have happened. The last thing we want is a cold case, Mitch, you know that.”
“She is standing right here, boys, and she doesn’t like this any more than Detective Grumpy Pants does,” I snapped.
Captain Walker glanced in my direction with his hands on his hips. “Detective Grumpy Pants?”
“I, um, uh . . . well, he is,” I grumbled, feeling my cheeks heat. “And it’s not just his pants that are grumpy; it’s every ounce of him.” I waved my hands about.
Captain Walker chuckled. “I like her.”
“Good.” Mitch glared at me. “You can have her. I won’t do it, Captain.”
Captain Walker’s chuckling stopped as his face grew hard and serious. “Then you won’t have a job, Detective. Am I clear?”
A muscle in Mitch’s jaw bulged. “Fine. But don’t be surprised if she’s more of a hindrance than a help.”
“Uh, hello, still standing right here, and it’s not fine. I have a business to run, remember?” I glared right back at the detective. “You’re the one hindering me. I don’t have time to run around playing cops and robbers.”
“Thought you didn’t have any customers and wanted to stick to me like glue.” Mitch lifted an eyebrow in my direction. “You changed your tune in a hurry. Wonder why that is.”
“Oh, stop analyzing my every move, you big oaf. Ever think I just don’t like you?”
“Good, because that makes two of us, you quack.” He put his hands on his hips and towered over me. “I’m the only one qualified to solve this case.”
“Ha! Seems to me that you’re the one who doesn’t have a clue.” I matched his stance and shoved my face up in his. “You need me more than you think. You’re just too proud to admit it.”
Tempest in the Tea Leaves Page 5
