by Lena Gregory
“Are you kidding me?” Sara’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline.
A smug, knowing look crossed the woman’s face. “Nope. I was out at Emmett’s picking up my car, and I saw them with my own eyes. The hotel’s right across the street. He even helped her into the car like a gentleman, with his hand on her . . .” She cleared her throat and puckered her lips in distaste.
Cass backed away from the women, leaving them to their gossip, and went in search of Bee.
He was in the back of the room talking to a young couple. He looked up as she approached. “Sorry, hon, I couldn’t find him.”
“Did you look outside?”
“I went as far as the parking lot, but his truck is gone. By the way, great job tonight.” He leaned close to hug her and lowered his voice so only she could hear. “You always make that look so real. It’s a little spooky.” He shivered as he pulled back.
Cass laughed.
He went back to his conversation, and she moved away. Looks like a trip out to Emmett’s Garage is in order.
8
Cass tucked the fast-food bag beneath her arm, unlocked the front door, and pushed it open. Silence. Hmm . . . that’s weird. Don’t dogs usually make some kind of noise when you come home? She peered into the shadows bathing the front foyer. Empty. She glanced back at Stephanie and Bee, who simply shrugged in return.
She flipped on the light and moved into the living room. Stephanie and Bee followed so closely they ran into her when she stopped short. Cass sucked in a breath. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest. Had someone broken in?
The room was in shambles, cushions torn from the couch and shredded, stuffing floating like fat, puffy snowflakes around the room. The coffee table had been overturned and magazines reduced to confetti and spread across the floor.
Then her gaze fell on the dog. Oh . . . no.
He cowered in the far corner behind an armchair, puffs of white stuffing hanging from his mouth. He peered at her from beneath drooping lids, his wide eyes begging for forgiveness.
A snort pulled her attention, and she glared over her shoulder at Bee.
“Oh . . . dear.” The words were muffled by the hand he’d slapped across his mouth, but the smirk he was trying to hide glistened in his eyes.
Stephanie didn’t bother to hide her amusement. She laughed out loud, and Bee gave up his struggle and joined her in a full-out belly laugh. Tears poured down his cheeks as he clutched his sides and fell onto the remnants of the couch.
“Did you . . .” Stephanie sucked in a breath and regained some semblance of control. “Did you really leave the puppy free in the house?”
Cass glared at her friend. “Well, what do I know? I’ve never had a dog before.” She lifted the coffee table back into place and dropped the fast-food bag onto it.
The dog sniffed and crept toward her.
“Bad dog.” Cass reached out and petted his head when he reached her. “You’re not supposed to wreck the house.”
The dog whined. She rubbed behind his ears, and his eyes closed as he melted into a puddle at her feet.
“Well, I guess I can forgive you this time.”
He rolled onto his back, baring his belly, which she knelt down to rub.
“But don’t let it happen again.”
Cass stood and surveyed the damage. Stephanie had already started trying to salvage the couch cushions.
Carrying a garbage bag, Bee walked into the room. “Come on. Let’s get this mess cleaned up, then we’ll pop the food in the microwave.”
“Thanks, guys.”
The dog jumped up beside Cass, frantically wagging his whole back end and knocking over a lamp Stephanie had just righted. Cass sighed.
A flashing red light beneath an overturned chair caught her attention, and she bent to retrieve the answering machine.
“Hey, what are you going to do with this thing?” Bee asked.
Cass turned to see what he was talking about.
He flipped the dog a french fry and clapped when he caught it. “Good boy!”
“What thing? The dog?” Cass turned back to the answering machine and placed it on the side table. It was the shop line, so someone must have called after she left. Had someone forgotten something?
Bee laughed at something behind her back. “Yeah, the dog. Are you going to keep it?”
Cass shrugged and hit the play button. “I guess I’ll give it to Ellie when we find her.”
“Hi. My name is Luke Morgan. I’m new in town, and I’d like to make an appointment for a reading at your earliest convenience.” The smooth southern drawl poured from the speaker. “You can reach me at—”
“Mmmm . . . sexy.” Bee had come up behind her and nudged her with an elbow.
Heat crept up her cheeks.
Stephanie pushed herself up to sit on the table beside the answering machine. “Nice accent.” She waggled her eyebrows playfully.
Cass scooped a ball of fluff from the table and threw it at her.
“So . . .” Bee leaned against the table and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you going to call him ba—” His gaze darted past her. “Hey, stop that.”
Cass turned.
The dog had half a hamburger hanging out of his mouth. He gulped it down when she started toward him.
“Ugh . . .” She weaved her fingers into her hair and squeezed.
“Forget about the dog. Call the sexy stranger back.”
Cass ignored Bee and looked into the mostly empty bag. She crumpled it and threw it into the garbage bag, then she glanced at the clock on the cable box. It wasn’t really that late yet. The dog made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a burp.
“Would you take him out to the beach while I return the client’s call?”
“Sure.” Bee smiled suggestively. “Come on, Steph. We can take a hint.”
Cass rolled her eyes. When they left, she listened to the message again. The smooth, velvet voice filled the room. Bee is right . . . very sexy. She smiled as she dialed the number, then cradled the receiver between her ear and her shoulder.
As she listened to the phone ring four times, she couldn’t help but wonder if his looks matched his voice. When she was about to hang up, his breathless drawl came through the line.
“Hello?”
“Uh . . . Hi, this is Cass Donovan. I’m returning your call.”
“Well, hello, Cass.” His accent didn’t seem quite as thick as it had on the machine. Maybe it was because he sounded out of breath, speaking in more of a raspy whisper.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No, no. Not at all. I just came in from a run on the beach. Can you just give me a second?”
“Sure.”
Something banged around for a minute and then he was back.
“Sorry. I heard you’re a great psychic, and I’d like a reading.”
“Sure. Um . . . When would you like to come in?”
“Would tomorrow be okay?”
She worked to place the accent. Definitely southern, but not as heavy as she originally thought. “I can do tomorrow morning, if that works for you. I get in around ten.”
“Perfect. I’ll bring coffee. How do you take it?”
Ooohh . . . a gentleman. “Just milk. Thank you.”
“No problem. I’ll see ya then.” His voice held the promise of something special, and a shiver ran up her spine.
She disconnected and set to picking up the mess.
The cushions were ruined, but there wasn’t much damage to the couch frame. Once she had all the stuffing and magazine remnants picked up, it really wasn’t that bad. The thought of giving the dog to Ellie brought on a wave of panic. Where can she be? Tomorrow, after the reading, she was going to find out where the other woman was, once and for all. She was just finishing up with the vacu
um when Bee and Stephanie returned with the dog.
“So?” Bee stared at the cushionless couch and sat on the armchair instead. He crossed his legs gracefully and then slid back.
“So what?”
“Did you call him back?”
Bee and Stephanie were always trying to fix her up with someone, no matter how many times she begged them to let it go.
“Yeah, I called him back.”
“And?” Stephanie perched on the arm of the chair beside Bee.
“And he’s coming in tomorrow morning.”
The two of them glanced at each other.
“Will you two knock it off? He’s probably ninety years old and shaped like a question mark.” She turned her back on them and headed to the kitchen for something to eat, sparing a scathing glance at the dog for eating her dinner. A small trickle of disappointment made her hope she was wrong. A voice as sinful as his deserved the looks to go with it.
* * *
Cass walked up the beach toward Mystical Musings. Since the back of the store faced the beach and the front faced the boardwalk, she had signs and display windows on both sides. A large wraparound porch ran all the way around the old two-story building. She’d painted the shingles a deep red and hung flowers from all of the window boxes and along the porch. One of these years, she’d find the time and money to finish the upstairs. Then she’d have the reading room upstairs and the shop down. She used her sleeve to wipe a smudge from the glass door as she entered.
Cass flipped the sign on the door to OPEN and stared out the large picture window. A view of the bay greeted her, the lighthouse standing sentinel at the tip of the island. She paid a little more to rent this building, but the view made it worth every extra penny. During peak tourist season, when crowds flocked to the Bay Pointe Lighthouse next door, her small shop would often be packed. She refused to hire help, though. Mystical Musings was her baby, the cozy shop having brought comfort when she needed it most. She’d placed small seating arrangements sporadically around the shop, with space for refreshments, and if the customers wanted to wait for her, they could. Most often, they did.
A shiver coursed through her, raising goose bumps across the back of her neck, and she rubbed her arms as she turned away from the window. She studied the colorful, flowing robe she typically wore at the shop but decided against it. She usually wore leggings and a tank top beneath the robe, but the air had been too chilly this morning and she’d wanted to walk, so she wore jeans and a heavy cowl-neck sweater instead.
She started straightening knickknacks and trinkets, though there really was no need. She kept the store immaculate, even during the busy season, often staying late into the night to keep things organized. Stephanie and Bee understood and had stayed with her after the reading to make sure everything was back in place. She hadn’t always had that need for control and organization, but now . . . she did.
A lighthouse replica clattered against the glass shelf when she went to set it down. Her hands were shaking. “What the heck is wrong with me this morning?” Her voice echoed loudly in the empty store. “Great, now I’m talking to myself.” She sighed. Ellie.
The wind chimes she’d returned to their hook above the door signaled a customer. She looked up and would have gasped if her breath hadn’t caught in her lungs. Don’t even tell me . . . But, there was no doubt in her mind. “Mr. Morgan?”
His killer smile turned her insides to mush.
“Luke. Nice to meet you.” He extended a hand, and she wished she could wipe the sweat from her palm before accepting it. He didn’t seem to notice, though, as he shook her hand and placed the cup holder on the large, round table beside him. His eyebrows drew together. “At the risk of sounding cliché, have we met? You look very familiar.”
Sure, I’m the woman you were staring at in the deli when Marge had her snit and then again when the sheriff dragged me out of the theater. She’d keep that to herself for now. “Not that I remember.” Liar.
His cocky grin spread and his incredibly deep blue eyes sparkled. He remembered exactly where he’d seen her.
She cleared her throat. No way would she admit to checking him out or even noticing him. “Come on in and have a seat.” She gestured to one of the large, velvet-covered chairs at the table, then took the seat across from him.
He placed her coffee in front of her, and she took a sip, grateful for the warmth, before she set the cup aside. “Thank you.”
“No problem. I can’t wake up without my coffee.” He set his cup aside and folded his hands on the table in front of him, seeming completely at ease.
“Have you ever had a reading before?”
“I have.” He didn’t elaborate.
“Do you want a general reading, or is there something specific you’d like to talk about?”
“Why don’t you start, and we’ll see where it leads?” He smiled, and the dimple in his right cheek caused her heart to trip a little.
An image of Bee fanning himself came to mind, releasing some of the tension.
“Okay.” Her voice sounded breathless. She fidgeted in the seat to buy herself a minute to settle down. This is ridiculous. She hadn’t been this nervous doing a reading since she was seventeen and working at the beach to put money away for college. Of course, back then she’d only been afraid Chief Langdon would catch her and accuse her of harassing the tourists. Now . . . She shivered.
Cass pushed the crystal ball aside and pulled out a small stack of white paper and a basket of colored pencils. “Have you ever had a color reading?”
His eyebrows drew together, and he shook his head, studying her closely while she selected a variety of colors. A calm settled over her as she spread the pencils she’d chosen out beside her, rolled them back and forth a bit, and set the basket aside. She lit a candle.
His deep voice startled her from her preparations. “You’re a medium, then?”
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she didn’t allow it to form. “Yes.” She straightened her paper once more, even though it was perfectly aligned already. She cleared her throat. “So, are you here on vacation?”
The cocky grin returned. “Why don’t you tell me?”
This time she couldn’t hold the smile back. “I love a challenge.”
He sat back, and she studied him for a moment before lifting a violet pencil. She began to scribble back and forth on the paper. “This purple is an odd choice for me this early in a reading.” She frowned, because it actually was.
He leaned forward, his interest obviously piqued. “Really? Why?”
“It indicates a certain level of psychic awareness on your part.” She looked at him.
He lifted a brow, and she laughed at his skepticism before returning her attention to the curved shape emerging on the paper.
“Not necessarily something you pay attention to, but an”—she lifted her gaze to meet his dark stare without slowing her drawing—“intuitiveness.”
A dark shadow crept over her. Her heart stuttered. Oh no. Please. No. Not now. Darkness crept into her peripheral vision, and her hand began to shake.
Luke reached across the table and gripped her hand. “Are you all right?” He frowned, deepening the lines in his forehead.
A tear tipped over the edge of her lower lashes and rolled down her cheek. She forced the rest back.
“Ms. Donovan?”
Cass struggled for some semblance of a smile. “Cass.” She pulled her hand from his and wiped away the tear. “Please, call me Cass.”
His gaze held hers, the intensity of his stare not allowing her to pull away. “Are you okay, Cass? You seem awfully pale all of a sudden.”
The tinkling of the chimes above the door drew her gaze reluctantly from his. She gasped as she surged to her feet, knocking the heavy chair to the floor behind her with a crash.
9
“Oh my
. . .” Cass rushed across the room, careful to avoid running into one of the many freestanding glass display cases. “Are you all right? Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you.” She grabbed Ellie by both arms and barely kept from shaking the young woman.
Tears poured down Ellie’s face. “Did you hear about my mom?”
Cass paused, unsure what to say. Didn’t Ellie know she’d found the body and been questioned about the murder? “Umm . . .” She glanced past her at Luke, who just shrugged and shook his head. What did he know?
“She’s dead. Murdered.” Ellie sobbed and collapsed into Cass’s arms. “Who would want to hurt my mother?” She lifted her head and stared beseechingly at Cass, and Cass bit her tongue hard enough to choke on the coppery taste of blood.
“Come sit down, Ellie. Do you want a cup of tea?”
Ellie nodded and sniffed. Cass led her toward the table, and Luke reached out to help. They settled her in the chair where Cass had been sitting.
Luke grabbed a box of tissues from the counter and handed it to Ellie before pulling another chair up to the table. Okay. Apparently Mr. Southern Drawl planned on hanging around.
Cass dropped a tea bag in a mug and poured hot water over it. She added a bit of honey and brought the mug to Ellie. She glared at Luke, hoping he’d take the hint and leave, but he only stared innocently back at her. A little too innocently.
Fine. She’d ignore him. “Ellie, where have you been?”
“Jay let me go into the city for a few days to show his sister around.”
A whole range of emotions shot through Cass, mostly anger, but she suppressed them and struggled to keep her attention on Ellie. “Didn’t he call you to tell you about your mother?”
Ellie shook her head. “He says he didn’t want to ruin my trip.”
Cass rubbed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger as she searched for patience. “Well, I tried to call. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“Jay told me to leave it home so no one would bother me while I was away. He really wanted me to have a nice trip.”
