Through the Night

by Janelle Denison

  “I’ll say,” she said in a dry, droll tone as she used her fork to pierce an apple slice. “Especially considering Russ’s rivalry toward you, and Angie’s jealousy that felt as sharp as acid.”

  That grabbed his attention. “Jesus, did you read them?”

  “Not intentionally.” She nibbled on the soft, baked piece of fruit, then licked her bottom lip. “Their feelings were so strong and overwhelming that when I shook their hands, all those emotions were hard to ignore. You and Russ share some kind of past that’s caused some animosity and resentment between the two of you, and I’m guessing Angie is an ex-girlfriend?”

  Chase couldn’t help but wonder what, precisely, she’d seen between him and Angie. “She was never a girlfriend.”

  She tipped her head speculatively as she finished the bite of cinnamon apple. “Friends with benefits?” she asked lightly.

  He was starting to get a better idea of what kind of images Valerie must have picked up on with Angie, and the last thing he wanted was her coming to any wrong conclusions about him when she didn’t have all the facts. “We slept together, but it was just sex.”

  She gave him a nod of understanding, not at all shocked by his blunt statement. “I get it, but just as an FYI, I think Angie missed that particular memo of yours.”

  Annoyance spiked through him and he set his fork on the dessert plate. “I was up front with her from the beginning, and I never gave her any kind of false impressions about what our relationship was.” And for God’s sake, why was he defending his actions to Valerie?

  Probably because he didn’t want her to think the worst of him. The realization that her opinion of his character mattered was more than a little unsettling when he usually didn’t give a shit about what other people thought of him.

  He was used to the scrutiny and harsh judgments from strangers because of his unique psychometric abilities and his chosen career as a successful treasure hunter, but Valerie was different. He liked her. A lot. And he respected her—as a woman, a friend, and a fellow psychic—and wanted the same in return.

  “I didn’t mean to insinuate anything, or upset you. I just find the triangle of relationships between the three of you fascinating,” she said, her voice softening. “Why is there such a rivalry between you and Russ? Is it because of Angie?”

  That would be the logical conclusion—since Angie was the common denomininator in the equation, but the situation was far more complex than that.

  He glanced across the table and found Valerie patiently watching him, her chin propped in her hand, her eyes bright and beckoning him to open up to her. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d talked about any aspect of his life with anyone. At one time, his grandfather was the person he shared everything with because he’d been the only constant in Chase’s life, as both a child and an adult, but since his death there had been no one he trusted enough to confide in.

  He’d always kept his personal life private, finding it much simpler to keep up the façade of an easygoing, carefree attitude that gave the impression of someone who didn’t have a care in the world, which was the furthest thing from the truth of who he was and what he’d been through in his life.

  That he was considering spilling things about himself to Valerie, even something as mundane as his past with Angie and Russ, was huge for him. He didn’t know if it was the tequila, the casual atmosphere, or how comfortable he felt with Valerie that prompted him to talk to her, but it felt right, she felt right, and he went with the impulse.

  “Russ is a treasure hunter like I am,” he said as he leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs under the table. “And because we’re in the same business, our paths have crossed for years at estate sales and antique auctions. There’s always been an underlying rivalry between us, because we’re competitors and it’s the nature of what we do for a living.”

  “Do you guys try to one-up the other with the things you find?” she asked just before she ate a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

  He laughed, the sound coming easier than he would have expected. “Oh, yeah. All the time. We’re both extremely competitive, and it really pisses him off that I have the advantage of touching an object and knowing its history before an auction starts.”

  She took a sip of her Irish coffee and smiled. “I can just imagine.”

  “I’d been dating Angie for a few weeks when she accompanied me to an estate auction in Chicago. The ivory carving of flowers caught my eye, and when I picked it up and flashed on the Capone connection, I knew I had to have it.”

  He remembered the thrill he’d experienced when he discovered the rare find, recalled thinking how his grandfather, who’d been fascinated by anything connected to Al Capone, would have been so excited to see the priceless collectible for himself.

  God, Chase missed the old man.

  Shaking off the moment of melancholy, he continued. “Obviously, no one realized what the cane top was worth, or who it belonged to, which gave me some leverage. But Russ was at the auction, too, and I knew once I started bidding on the item, he’d know immediately that it was something valuable and he’d fight me for it, so I had Angie do the bidding for me. Russ didn’t know until after Angie had won the piece that I was the buyer.”

  Valerie winced. “I’m sure that didn’t sit too well with him.”

  “To say the least,” Chase agreed. “Especially when Russ heard through other professionals in our circle what he’d lost out on and what the ivory piece was actually worth. So, yeah, there’s some resentment and animosity there.”

  “And Angie?” she asked.

  He watched the way she tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth, the anxious gesture probably more telling than even she’d realized. Her question was a casual extension of their conversation, yet there was no doubt in Chase’s mind that her curiosity about Angie had more to do with womanly interest than with a professional inquiry.

  But as far as he and Angie were concerned, Valerie had nothing to worry about. Angie was the past, but whatever was between himself and Valerie was the present, and something he wanted to explore on a more personal, intimate level. It was just a matter of getting Valerie on the same page that he was on, and pushing past that control of hers to the hot, sexy woman who had kissed him so passionately last night.

  He shoved those sensual, arousing thoughts from his mind for the time being and gave Valerie the explanation she was asking for. “Angie and I dated for about six weeks, and when she started pushing for something more serious, I ended things,” he said simply.

  That, and he just didn’t trust Angie and her motives, especially when she realized just how wealthy he actually was. “She didn’t let go easily, and she did everything possible to get me to change my mind and take her back. When that didn’t work, she pursued Russ because he’s my biggest rival, and she was hoping to make me jealous, but I was more relieved that she’d finally moved on.”

  Unfortunately, that relief had been short-lived, because Angie hadn’t moved on, he quickly discovered. Not emotionally, anyway. She still called and left him voice mails on his cell phone to entice him, or texted him with inappropriate messages, considering she was now in a relationship with Russ.

  He’d deleted all those calls and messages without returning any of them, but as he witnessed today in the lobby of the hotel, Angie was holding on to the hope that there might still be something between the two of them.

  The one thing that bothered him the most was the fact that Angie knew way too much about the Capone cane top she’d won for him at the estate auction six months ago. At the time, he was so caught up in the excitement of what he’d found that he told Angie about the history of the ivory piece—a huge mistake on his part. One evening, he caught her on his laptop, reading his research notes that indicated the cane, once it was restored to its original state, was merely an elaborate decoy for something far more rare and priceless.

  He’d let Angie get way too close, and he was afraid he might pay a significant price
, personally and professionally, for that mistake.

  Chase’s biggest concern had always been that Angie had shared that private, highly valuable information with Russ. And if she had, there was no doubt in Chase’s mind that Russ would be just as interested in getting his hands on the holy grail of all treasures. A once-in-a-lifetime score that was worth millions. And if Russ wanted to extract the ultimate revenge, then beating Chase to his own endgame would accomplish that goal.

  “Well, despite the fact that Angie is now with Russ, there’s a determination about her when it comes to you,” Valerie said, bringing his attention back to her and their conversation. “She definitely wants you back, and considering the bitterness I felt when I shook her hand, I wouldn’t trust her if I were you.”

  Valerie’s gaze was clear, her warning genuine and not based on some kind of female rivalry. Valerie was the opposite of Angie in so many ways, and he knew she’d never resort to manipulating a situation to her advantage. As guarded as she was with her emotions, she was a straight shooter when it came to being sincere.

  Chase gave her a reassuring smile to ease her worry. “Don’t worry, I don’t trust her.”

  “Good,” she said with a nod. “Just be careful around her. Her aura is way too black and hostile, and there’s no telling what she’s capable of.”

  Her concern seemed a bit extreme to Chase, but he indulged her anyway. “I don’t plan on being anywhere near her, if I can help it.”

  Valerie tried to conceal a yawn behind the back of her hand but failed. “Sorry about that,” she said impishly. “I can’t believe I’m so tired. A wine spritzer and an Irish coffee, and I’m ready to crash.”

  “You’re such a lightweight,” he teased, and motioned the waiter for their check as he withdrew his wallet to pay for their meal. “It’s been a busy day, and tomorrow is going to be even more exhausting. So, let’s head back to the hotel so we both can get a good night’s sleep.”

  And he really did mean sleep. Despite all his flirting with Valerie today, and the sexy innuendos they’d bantered back and forth, there would be no attempt at seduction tonight. Chase wanted to be sure they were completely rested and both their minds were clear for what they needed to accomplish at Alcatraz tomorrow morning.

  But once the business portion of their trip was wrapped up, all bets were off.

  Chapter Six

  Valerie shivered and pulled her jacket tighter around her body as the private boat Chase had chartered neared the island of Alcatraz. Even though the afternoon forecast promised sunny skies and temperatures in the mid-seventies, this early in the morning the weather was cold and foggy, a normal occurrence in the Bay Area, Chase had assured her.

  But for Valerie, the fog seemed to set the tone for what was to come. The old prison, sitting on top of a massive rocky island, was shrouded in a thick, dense mist, giving it an eerie, menacing vibe that cut through Valerie as much as the blustery wind did.

  Her stomach roiled with trepidation, but they were nearly at the dock and there was no backing out now. Chase was counting on her to identify specific information pertaining to Al Capone and anything relating to the other cane pieces, and she really didn’t want to disappoint him, because she knew how important all this was to him.

  The boat bumped gently against the wooden platform, signaling their arrival. Paul, the park ranger who was a friend of Chase’s and had agreed to give them the private tour before the island was open to the public, stepped off the deck to tie off the vessel. Chase followed suit, then offered his hand to help guide her down so she didn’t slip.

  As soon as her fingertips touched his, she felt the excitement pouring off him, a heady sense of enthusiasm she didn’t share. For Chase, this was a cool, fun adventure, but for her, she found the prison incredibly creepy and wasn’t looking forward to going inside the penitentiary.

  “I was talking to Paul on the ride over, and he suggested we start with Capone’s cell, and go from there,” Chase said as they followed the park ranger to a small tram so they didn’t have to make the steep, long trek up to the main jailhouse on foot.

  “That’s fine,” Valerie said. She sat next to Chase on the cart and tucked her cold hands into her jacket pockets for warmth.

  The fog remained as they headed up the hill and alongside the cliff that overlooked the ocean and craggy rocks below. There was no one else on the grounds that she could see, which only added to the intimidating presence of the prison, as well as to her own unease. While she kept quiet and tried to stay calm, Chase carried on a steady stream of conversation with Paul about the place, his tone and expression full of eager anticipation.

  Paul parked the cart and led the way to the structure housing the jail cells. As soon as she stepped inside the cold, dank building behind Chase and Paul, her skin prickled and the hairs at the back of her neck stood on end as she was bombarded with a powerful sense of hostility, evil, and violence that threw her for a loop.

  Head spinning, she sucked in a sharp breath, came to an immediate stop, and tried to keep a tight grip on her shaken equilibrium.

  Chase, having heard her loud gasp, glanced back at her, his features instantly reflecting concern. “Are you okay?”

  She searched his face for some sign that he’d been affected by the tension and all the bad mojo filling the prison, but he appeared completely unfazed. “You don’t feel that?”

  He braced his hands on his hips and cocked his head, regarding her curiously—as did Paul. “Feel what, exactly?”

  “From the moment I walked in here, I’ve been surrounded by an overwhelming malevolence.” She couldn’t stop the shudder that coursed through her and settled in her stomach like sludge. “I can still feel it, and it’s making my skin crawl.”

  “My gift doesn’t work that way.” Chase glanced around the area, as if trying to see or feel what she did. “I’ve been to Alcatraz before and wasn’t able to tap into anything significant, which is why I brought you here.”

  She heard a faint wailing sound from somewhere in the distance and winced, certain it belonged to a long-lost spirit. When she looked at Chase and Paul to gauge their reactions to the high-pitched noise, their neutral expressions told her that she was the only one who’d heard it.

  “Lucky me,” she muttered beneath her breath.

  Paul tipped back the ranger hat on his head, his gaze sympathetic. “There’s been many psychics that have come through the jail, especially during the nighttime haunted tours, and your reaction, from what I’ve seen, is quite normal for someone who has extrasensory perception.”

  Oh, joy, she thought with a frown. At least the man wasn’t a skeptic, because there was nothing worse than someone watching the psychic process while thinking you were a phony.

  Chase came up to her and gently placed his hands on her shoulders, his gaze deep and dark with understanding. “Do you want to leave?”

  She swallowed hard, debating. He was letting her make the decision and offering her a way out if she wanted it. She knew how crucially important this visit was to Chase. That he was willing to turn around and go before they’d even started exploring the prison, all because she was apprehensive, said a lot about his true character.

  He might want everyone to think he was cocky and unemotionally driven, but this man had a warm, compassionate side that made her feel safe and secure with him, and that was something she hadn’t allowed herself to experience in a very long time. Putting that kind of faith in Chase was huge for her, but in order to get through this ordeal, she had to let down her guard a bit and trust him.

  And she did. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest at that knowledge. How he’d managed to find a way past her resolve to keep things impersonal in such a short period of time she wasn’t sure, but for now, for today, she wasn’t going to analyze what felt so right.

  He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “Just say the word, Valerie, and we’re done right now.”

  With her jacket on, she couldn’t feel his touch directly, and it
was probably a good thing considering all the other emotions she was dealing with at the moment. The last thing she needed was her attraction to him being thrown into the mix and adding to her other confusing thoughts.

  She shook her head and shored up her fortitude, determined to get through the next hour or so. For him. “No. We’re here. I’ll deal with it.” And she’d pay for it later, she knew. “Let’s get it over with.”

  She expected to see relief on Chase’s handsome face, but his concern for her never wavered as they followed Paul into the main part of the prison.

  “Alcatraz has housed some of the most notorious, hardened criminals in the world, and back in the day, it was a ruthless, cutthroat place to live, which probably accounts for what you’re feeling and sensing,” Paul said as he led the way up to the second tier of Cell Block B, which was restricted to normal tourists.

  “Punishments were harsh and severe, and most inmates were abused, some even murdered by their own kind. A lot of the convicts were subjected to psychological and physical torture, and the brutal conditions of the place caused a lot of men to go insane or commit suicide. When prisoners were released after serving their time, more often than not they left the Rock with some kind of mental disorder.”

  Valerie swallowed hard as they continued down a metal walkway in front of the upper jail cells. Paul’s commentary helped to explain the awful tension in the atmosphere, the despair and grief that were nearly suffocating her. The start of a headache throbbed in her temples, and she did her best to keep the pain at bay. “Did that include Al Capone?”

  Paul nodded. “He spent a lot of time in solitary confinement on D Block for bad behavior, and from what I’ve read, the total isolation, darkness, and horrible conditions completely messed with his head. Toward the end of Capone’s sentence here at Alcatraz, he spent a lot of time in the infirmary because of complications due to syphilis. He suffered from neurological problems, insanity, and there are reports that he was constantly babbling about odd and inconsequential things that made no sense to anyone.”