by Harte, Marie
“Tell me about it.”
“I heard that!” Frank breezed back into the kitchen to deposit his mug on the counter, grabbed a clean stack of plates, and left just as quickly.
“Well, Chloe, I’d say nice to meet you, but I want to know what you did to Frank.”
Chloe cocked her head, the way she did when she listened to her voices. “Okay, we’re good to talk in here. It’s safe enough for now. If anyone asks, Frank and I are cousins. Believe it or not, Frank and I are old friends. I was part of the team that busted him a few years ago on forgery and grand larceny charges, but somehow he weaseled out of them.”
Lara dropped the mixing bowl she’d been holding, and it landed on the counter, nearly dislodging the contents. She cringed. “Forgery? What?”
Chloe turned to him. “Frank Hanover was one of our own. Noah, meet Ian Ryder.”
“No kidding?” Noah glanced from Chloe to the swinging door through which Frank passed again. Ian Ryder was infamous. A gifted psychic gone rogue who’d nearly stolen his way to millions. Rumors about foreign governments, spies, and scandal had circulated about Ryder, who’d vanished years ago. But somehow, Frank didn’t have that whole air of intrigue around him.
Frank sneered. “You telling him the whole truth, or your version?”
“Frank, what’s going on?” Lara rounded to him and put a protective arm over his shoulder.
Regardless of Frank’s sexual orientation, Noah didn’t like them standing so close.
“I used to work for the government a long, long time ago.” Frank glared at Chloe. “Before the PWP became so widely known, it was just a beta project.”
“What did he do?” Noah asked her.
“Master forger. A chameleon of sorts. He could imitate anything on paper.”
“He’s an artist here. Makes sense.” Noah nodded.
Lara frowned. “PWP?”
“Psychic Warfare Project,” Noah explained, ignoring Chloe’s dark look. “I’m not going to lie to her, Chloe. Lara, the PWP is what we called our organization with the government. It was an experimental unit made up of psychics of different specialties and degrees of skill. We took on various missions to help our country and did what was asked of us.”
Lara dropped her arm from around Frank and moved back to the batter in her bowl. “I’m impressed. I know you said you did investigations, but I didn’t think it was all official-like.”
He flinched. “Ah, it’s not. I said we used to belong. The PWP closed up eight months ago.”
Chloe swore under her breath. “Why don’t you just tell her every classified mission we went on too? Heck, Noah, give her the codes to the boss’s safe while you’re at it.”
“She knows enough about me to believe,” he explained.
“Fine.” Chloe faced Lara. “Noah’s a very valuable member of the team. He can jack into the past, seeing and hearing secrets when he pushes hard enough. But sometimes he can’t let go.”
Noah shook his head. “The problem with my skill is I can’t see everything. The more intense emotion or energy associated with the past, the easier I’m able to pick it up. I have no problem seeing when it comes to psychics.”
“Or murder scenes, battlefields, war zones,” Chloe added.
“Bordellos.” Noah chuckled when Lara blushed. “Love is a powerful emotion too. New beginnings, hope. It’s not all negative, which is something I’ve come to learn since leaving the PWP.”
Chloe’s face softened. “That’s good. You were getting burned out. Then the PWP disbanded, and you started losing it even more. This break has been good for you.” To Lara she said, “Now we work for Jack, and he wants that painting back. This thief and murderer is putting a kink in things.”
Her openness about the case told him a lot. Noah glanced at Frank. “Obviously you and Frank hashed things out.”
“He’s not our guy.”
“I know,” Noah and Lara said at the same time.
“Glad you have faith in me.” Frank beamed at Lara.
Noah hated to burst his bubble. “Thanks to a few pieces I’ve put together, I narrowed our list of suspects down to two. But Chloe, can I ask what drew you to Frank?”
“The voices told me he can help. He has information we need.”
Noises outside in the living area startled Lara into moving back to the stove. “That’s going to have to wait. Now I’m behind. Frank, you’re on bacon and sausage. Noah, tea and coffee. Chloe, get those hands over here.”
Noah followed her orders. And Lara did like to give orders. The dichotomy of his submissive lover in bed, wanting to please, and this stern taskmaster bandying demands left and right, intrigued him to no end. Every minute spent with her made him want to move even closer.
Surprised at himself, Noah realized he didn’t want to leave her. Not ever. Talk about irrational decisions based on…what? Lust? Lara’s idea of reincarnation? Then an even more insane thought struck him. Was this love?
“Come on, Noah. It’s getting later. People want their coffee. Did you make the hazelnut blend yet?”
He met Chloe’s gaze, bright with amusement, and sighed at Lara. “Not yet, mein Führer.”
“Ha ha. Very funny.” Lara shooed him toward the coffeemaker. “Now move. People pay to stay here as much for my food as for the atmosphere.”
Frank muttered under his breath each time he moved in and out of the kitchen, but Noah saw how well he and Lara worked together. Not sure how to figure Frank Hanover into the scheme of things, he wondered what the odds were that two psychics happened to work together in a supposedly haunted house. Add him and Chloe, and there were now four of them. Despite the normalcy of a bustling kitchen, he couldn’t ignore the sense that something wrong hung just out of reach. Too many psychics in one place stirring the energy, maybe? But he didn’t get this feeling at home in Bend.
No, it felt more like history repeating itself. The strange idea took hold and wouldn’t let go.
After another half hour spent busting his ass in the kitchen while Chloe and Frank worked the dining room, he put a plate of biscuits down and gave Lara a quick kiss.
She smiled. “That was nice. Hey, where are you going?”
“Something I need to do. I’ll be back later. Promise me you won’t leave unless Chloe or Frank is by your side.”
She frowned. “If I have to.”
“You have to.” He left the kitchen and caught Chloe chatting with an old man and his daughter while she cleared a few plates off their table. “Chloe, I need a word.”
She took the plates and set them on a tray near the wall. “I feel like I’m back in college again, waiting tables for extra cash.” She grinned, clearly enjoying her pretend job, and joined him by the staircase.
“I have a lead I need to follow. Research I need to do. I’m heading to the—”
“Library. Yeah, that’s where you need to be.” She nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll be Lara’s shadow until you get back.”
“Thanks. Interesting those voices of yours are so taken with this case.”
“More like worrisome.” Her smile faded. “They normally don’t get this involved unless I’m in danger, or someone I care about is about to die. Something’s up, Noah. Watch your back. Seriously.”
“Gotcha. You too.” He nodded and left just as Mike Buckman strolled into the dining room asking for Lara. Knowing it wouldn’t help but trying anyway, he focused on Mike and thought about the past.
An impression of heated words, a fight with Shelly that ended in tears. Then some paperwork at the station. A boring day for the deputy, no doubt. A guy like Buckman probably needed to knock heads together to get his rocks off. Noah was tempted to stay.
Chloe poked him in the chest. “Uh-uh. Get out of here. I’ll watch him around Lara, don’t worry.”
He huffed. “Fine. But don’t forget, he might be our guy.”
“You’re sure it’s a man, right? People are always underestimating women.”
“No, the flavor of
violence was too masculine. And the woman they found… It was a man. A large man.” Mike Buckman and Bill Knowles unfortunately had the same build. “Just keep an eye on him.”
“Will do. But it’s not like he’s going to hurt her in plain view of the guests, is he?” At Noah’s look, she rolled her eyes. “Fine, yes, I’ll practically sit on Lara while you’re gone. Happy? Jesus. Just go and be careful. Hell, I’m sorry I ever mentioned you to Jack.”
“Huh?”
She flushed. “Never mind.” She shoved him toward the door. “Now go.”
* * *
Lara tried to let her morning routine wash away her unease. Knowing Mike or Bill might be the one who’d killed and tortured that poor girl made her ill. She felt as if she knew both men. She’d lived around them for six months. She’d eaten dinner with Bill just last night. Hell, she’d even invited him into her bedroom, her most private, intimate space. Yes, their interaction had been businesslike, but only until the man had kissed her.
The door to the kitchen swung open. “You going to burn those eggs or what?” Chloe spurred Lara into finishing the current pan she’d started.
She put them into the serving tray and carried it out to the buffet table. When she turned around to head back into the kitchen, she ran into Mike Buckman. Talk about unlucky. A quick glance around her showed that at least Bill remained absent.
“Easy, honey. Where’s the fire?” Mike’s smile did nothing to reassure her, and she knew he could see the strain on her face, because his amusement vanished. “We need to talk.”
Just what she didn’t need. “I’m really busy right now, Mike—”
He grabbed her arm and all but dragged her with him into the kitchen. Frank and Chloe followed on their heels, but Mike barked at them to leave.
When neither moved an inch, he swore. “Goddamn it. I’m not kidding. This is official business. Just wait outside. I’ll only be a minute.”
Knowing he couldn’t possibly hurt her and get away with it, not with so many witnesses outside, Lara nodded at the others to leave. Maybe she could get him to give her a clue of some sort. Confess his guilt? A long shot, but it couldn’t hurt to try.
“I’ll be okay. Go check on the guests, please.”
Chloe frowned and moved only when Frank whispered something in her ear and dragged her out.
“Mike, what can I do for you?” She forced herself to smile.
“Who’s the new girl? She’s cute.”
“She’s gorgeous, and she’s Frank’s cousin. Now why did you drag me in here?”
He mumbled an apology, which surprised her. His gaze narrowed, and he seemed to come to a decision of some sort. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Her heart raced. How could he know she suspected him?
Mike sighed. “Lara, I know the word’s out. Everyone in town knows about the dead girl.”
“The, uh—”
“She looks just like you. I’d be scared too if I were you. But I promise, we’ve stepped up patrols. No one is going to hurt you. You have my word.”
Not what she’d been expecting to hear.
“I’m personally spending my shifts and my off-time watching the inn. Have you seen anyone or anything to make you nervous?”
“No.”
“What about that guy, Noah First? Why’d you ask me to look him up?”
Crap. How much to say without giving away information Noah would want kept quiet?
“Something going on with him? I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Heard about Bill pawing at you too.” Mike sneered. “Fucking playboy. He’s no good for you.”
“Oh?”
“I know what I’m talking about. You know he and I are related?”
“I’d heard. But why is he no good for me?” Because you’re related? She wanted to ask but didn’t think Mike would appreciate her lame stab at humor.
“He has a different flavor every week. Last I heard, he was fu—ah, dating some girl from Superior while seeing Shelly on the side.”
“Shelly? But I thought you and she were a couple.”
His snorted. “Shelly? Hell, no. Girl is too young for me. Sure, we had fun, but we were just passing the time. She’s trying to make Bill jealous. Me…” His gaze trailed from her face to her breasts and back up.
“What? What does that look mean?”
“What do you think?” He glanced at the kitchen door, hearing the same garbled whispers she did—subtlety was not in Frank’s vocabulary. “Now I could be like Bill and just grab you, but I’ve got too much class to do that.”
He had to be kidding.
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m out here looking after you, Lara.” His voice lowered, and a creeping wariness made her shiver. “You might not see me, but I’ll be watching.”
He left, pushing past Frank and giving Chloe a good once-over.
“What did he say?” Frank was at her side in seconds.
“Just letting me know he’s watching me.” She made a face. “Just what I needed to help me sleep through the night.”
“We heard it all through the door.” Chloe frowned at Frank.
He frowned back. “Hey, I wanted her to have the illusion of privacy.”
Chloe brushed her hair out of her face. “I think it’s interesting he owned up about his connection to Bill. Noah filled me in about the pair yesterday.”
“It’s got to be Mike.” Frank shot a dark look at the swinging kitchen door where Mike had exited.
“Not necessarily.”
Lara still couldn’t see Mike or Bill as the culprit. “What if Noah’s wrong? He said he couldn’t be sure. What if it’s someone else?”
Chloe grimaced. “Then we’re in serious trouble, because I can feel the danger crawling up my spine. My voices don’t lie. Before this thing ends, someone else is going to die.”
Chapter Nine
On the computer, Noah scrolled through another edition of the Brownville Voice from twenty years ago. To his relief, the library seemed deserted. This early in the day, none but the most avid readers were looking for material. He had the computer section all to himself.
For the next few hours, he read through the histories of Brownville that related to Cecilia Fine or Finn Fury. Nothing stood out from his research, so he moved on to more current history. No time like delving into the seedy underbelly of Brownville’s fire chief and deputy extraordinaire.
Something about Mike’s and Bill’s connection nagged at him. History repeating itself… He glanced at the table, where he’d piled the books detailing the relationship between Cecilia Fine and Finn Fury. What was it that connected Cecilia and Finn to Mike Buckman and Bill Knowles? What had he missed?
A whisper of sound drifted over him in a cold breath. The cloying pressure of psychic phenomena settled over him like a suffocating blanket. Shit. He’d never liked these rare occasions when the past reached out and smothered him. Knowing what he did about the violence and negative energy in town made his unease worse.
Then a woman’s hand stroked his shoulder. “Beware the jealous lover.”
He tensed and turned, expecting to see Cecilia Fine. To his astonishment, a giant of a man wearing a gun belt, two pistols, and the look of a killer stared at him from a few feet away. He looked familiar. “I ain’t gonna let you hurt her again.”
Noah wondered if he’d fallen into the past or was seeing what he and Lara had witnessed earlier at the inn. A ghost.
“She’s mine.” The bandanna around the man’s neck shifted, revealing a scar, and detail poured into him. It was as if watching an artist fill out his creation. Finnegan Fury.
Noah studied the outlaw. Like Noah, he possessed a large frame. His arms were corded with muscle, his legs firm on the ground, his stance ready, eager. Finn looked poised to take on any comers. His ghostly face might have been called handsome, but to Noah the scar on his chin and the one that slashed through his left brow gave him a demonic appearance. He had sh
ort black hair, a square jaw, and ice blue eyes that didn’t blink. A stone-cold killer.
“I’m talking to you, asshole.”
Noah blinked. “Hell, you’re here with me, aren’t you? You’re not the past.”
Finn drew his gun and shot through Noah’s chest. Then Noah heard a body thud to the ground behind him.
His heart beat so hard, he was surprised it hadn’t leaped from his flesh. Christ, the man was fast. If he’d shot real bullets, Noah would be dead.
