by Rebecca York
“Okay. There’s a warehouse on Burgundy Street.” He gave the address. “I’ll meet you there at seven.”
Before the guy could ask any questions, Jake hung up and sat there, staring through the windshield.
“Who was he, do you think?”
Rachel’s question broke into his thoughts. “You heard all that?”
“Yes.”
Jake shrugged and looked at her. “Did you pick up anything from him?”
Her brow wrinkled. “It was more what I didn’t pick up. I mean, it was like there was a wall between us and him.”
Jake nodded. “It came across that way to me, too. There was something…dishonest about him.”
“Like he was trying to hide his real intentions.”
“Yeah.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Meet him.”
“That might be dangerous,” she pointed out.
“Do we have any choice?” Jake asked. “We’re trying to get information, and he may have some. I mean, he mentioned ‘mental changes.’ Maybe he knows what kind of experiments they were doing at that clinic. And he doesn’t want to talk about it over the phone. Not after what happened to Evelyn Morgan.”
“That could be right.”
“I’ll stash you somewhere safe and keep the appointment.”
Jake felt Rachel’s fingers digging into his arm. “No way are you leaving me hiding someplace while you go off and do something…dangerous.”
His stomach clenched. “What if something happens?”
“To you? You don’t think that would affect me?”
He nodded tightly. “I guess that’s right.”
“You guess?”
He swallowed hard. “All right, I know.”
They were both silent for several moments before she finally said, “We’d better take precautions. Like get there early and be hiding when Mickey arrives.”
He smiled. “You’re developing your spy skills, I see.”
“I’m trying.”
“We’d better make it very early, in case he has the same idea.”
On the way back to town, they discussed some plans, but it quickly became clear that they would have to hang loose.
As they crossed the bridge into New Orleans, they saw a patrol car, and Rachel went rigid.
“Slide down,” Jake said, as he’d done on several earlier occasions.
She scrunched low in her seat, but the cop kept going past them.
“How hard are they looking for us?” Rachel asked.
“Let’s just say I’d like to minimize the amount of time we stay in the city.”
She nodded.
Jake drove around the back of a pawnshop in a neighborhood where Rachel probably wouldn’t want to walk around at night by herself. But he was comfortable here.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“Getting guns.”
“I don’t want one.”
“I do. And I’d feel safer if you’re armed, as well.”
“Why do we need them? Can’t we use…our powers?”
“They’re not reliable enough. Don’t you remember how it was with that detective at your shop? He was able to resist us.”
She nodded tightly.
He could see she didn’t like it, but he also knew she saw the wisdom of conventional protection.
The back door to the shop was locked, but Jake had a key. When they were in the storage area, he turned to Rachel. “Wait here for a moment.”
Rachel’s nerves were humming. She didn’t like being left alone in this place.
When Jake came back and motioned for her to follow, she stepped into a crowded little shop where a wizened, stoop-shouldered coffee-colored man stood behind a display counter.
“I see you’re in a mess of trouble,” he said, looking Jake up and down.
“We didn’t do it.”
“I didn’t think so. You’re capable of a lot of shady stuff, Jake Harper, but not murder, if I’m any judge.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Kendall, this is Rachel Gregory. Rachel, this is my friend Kendall Wexler.”
“Nice to meet you,” they both said.
“She’s your partner in crime?”
“We didn’t commit any crimes,” Jake reiterated, then grimaced, probably when he remembered the incident in her shop with the police detective.
Kendall shuffled from behind the counter to turn the sign from Open to Closed.
As he locked the front door, Rachel looked around. Guitars, banjos and other musical instruments hung on the walls. Display cases were full of everything from laptop computers to sets of flatware, diamond rings and gold beads.
A case behind the counter held an assortment of firearms.
The man swung his gaze to Rachel and smiled. “Could be you hooked up with the wrong dude.”
“I don’t think so.”
“If I can’t persuade you to ditch him, what can I do you for?”
Jake answered, “We need a couple of guns.”
“Thought that might be it.” Kendall stepped aside so Jake could join him behind the counter. They conferred for several minutes before Jake picked out two handguns, a small revolver for Rachel and a larger automatic for Jake.
Kendall brought out ammunition for each weapon, and the two men proceeded to give Rachel a short course in gun safety and operation. When they were finished, she put the revolver in her purse where it felt like a dead weight.
“Don’t go shooting any cops,” Kendall said.
“It’s not for cops.”
“If you say so.”
Jake hesitated for a moment, then said, “If any of them come by asking questions, say you haven’t seen us.”
“You got it,” Kendall answered, and he didn’t ask why they needed the firepower.
When they were back in the car, Jake said, “I wish you could have some actual target practice. But we’d have to drive out of the city, then back again.”
“I don’t like carrying a gun at all. Let’s hope I don’t have to shoot.”
“I feel better knowing we’re not walking into an unknown situation unarmed.”
A thought occurred to her, and she said, “Wait a minute. You didn’t pay him.”
“I don’t have to.”
“Because you’re holding something over him?”
“No. I’m part owner of the shop.”
She stared at him. “Part owner.”
He shrugged. “I go to a lot of estate sales. There are always things I pick up that are worth buying but don’t fit into my antiques business. So I asked Kendall if he wanted to go in on a pawnshop with me.”
“Let me guess. You put up all of the money.”
He kept his gaze steady. “Does that matter?”
“Just trying to get a handle on Jake Harper.”
“It’s a convenient arrangement for me. I can sell merchandise that wouldn’t work for my upscale clientele.”
“And it’s convenient for him, too. I’ll bet he lives in the building, right?”
“Yeah.”
“But it’s more than that for you. You like being his friend.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, you use the friendship as a way to connect with…humanity.”
He nodded.
“An adaptation mechanism.”
“You mean like your connecting with humanity by reading tarot cards?”
“Yes. I guess we both found substitutes for real intimacy.”
Jake reached for her hand, and they held on to each other, both thinking about how much their lives had changed.
For long moments neither of them spoke aloud until Jake said, “We should get some food. Better not to face the enemy on an empty stomach.”
“Is he the enemy?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
While they were still in the neighborhood, he stopped at a take-out luncheonette and got them each a poor boy and a soft drink.
Then they d
rove to the address he’d given the mystery caller. The two-story brick building looked as if it had formerly been a garage.
Jake stepped inside the door and keyed in a code on an alarm system pad, then he turned on a few lights.
As they walked into the huge room, Rachel saw it was being used as a storage facility for Mardi Gras floats. They were partially dismantled, but Rachel looked around in wonder at the displays. A sea monster was against one wall, next to a giant king and queen. Across from them was an artificial lawn with a tree in the middle. The branches were adorned with monkeys holding necklaces and other glittery treasure.
Behind the monkey tree was a set of giant musical instruments that looked as though they needed no human performers.
“I’ve seen some of these floats at the parade.”
“They get refurbished and used from year to year.”
“How do you have access to this place?”
“It belongs to the Buccaneer Crew,” he said, naming one of the groups that sponsored Mardi Gras floats every year. “And I’m on the board of directors.”
Another surprise.
I’m full of surprises, he silently answered.
“Are you going to lock the door?”
“No. We might as well make it easy for Mickey to come in. But we’ll stay hidden until we get a good look at him.”
As he spoke, he strode toward a set of metal stairs. She followed him to the top, where they stepped onto a balcony with a view of the floor below. Behind it was an office with windows looking out over the floats. Because they didn’t turn the lights on in the office, the only illumination came from the ceiling fixtures above the warehouse floor.
Jake took something out of a desk drawer that he slipped into his pocket.
When they sat down at the desk to eat the meal they’d brought, Rachel shuddered.
This place gives me the creeps.
The place, or the situation?
Both. She stared at the sandwich she’d unwrapped. I’m not real hungry.
But we should eat. We’ll be in better shape if we do.
They ate part of the sandwiches and wrapped up the rest.
“Is there another way out of here, besides down the stairs we came up?” she asked.
“The balcony turns a corner. You can’t see from here, but there’s another set of stairs that leads to a back door.”
“Good. I’d hate to be trapped up here.”
“I wouldn’t have come up if that had been the case.”
She glanced at her watch. “We still have almost three hours to wait. Maybe we should…practice.”
He gave her a wolfish grin.
“I wasn’t thinking of that.”
It’s how we forged the link. It’s how we increased the connection.
She looked around and knew he picked up her distaste for the setting.
Okay. Not such a great place to make love. What did you have in mind? he asked.
Seeing how far away we can get from each other and still talk like this—without speaking aloud.
He looked from her to the balcony outside the office. I don’t like the idea of letting you out of my sight. Not when we don’t know when that guy will show up.
I think we’ve got plenty of time.
We don’t know for sure.
While they were talking mind to mind, she stepped out the door and onto the balcony, closing the door behind her.
Come back! he shouted inside her head.
I can still hear you.
Through the window, he glared at her.
She walked farther along the balcony and stopped about twenty-five feet from where he stood.
Now? she asked.
Not as easy.
They could still see each other. She turned her back, facing out toward the warehouse floor, where she could look down on the giant floats. Then she backed up so that her shoulders were pressed against the wall.
How about now?
Not much. He was silent for several moments, then said inside her head, Rub…your finger…across your lips.
The communication was very faint, just a whisper in her mind, but she asked, Why?
See if the physical sensation makes it easier for me to reach your mind.
Is that all you can think about, physical sensation?
Just try it.
She lifted her hand and did as he’d asked. It could have been a neutral gesture, but she focused on the sensual component.
That’s nice, Jake said, and his voice inside her head was stronger than it had been a moment ago. He must be right about the physical part.
You can feel me touching my lips? she asked.
Yes.
Then you do it, too.
She caught a flicker of male objection.
It’s okay for me, but not for you?
He made a low sound that she heard in her mind before she felt him stroke his finger against his lips. He was right. It was nice.
Open your mouth. Stroke the inside of your lips, he told her.
By now she was liking the game, and in truth, it helped ease some of the tension of waiting for the unknown Mickey to show up.
She pressed her shoulders more firmly against the wall and parted her lips, then slipped her finger inside and played with the sensitive skin.
Nice. I’d like to feel you lick your finger with that cute little tongue of yours.
My tongue is cute?
To me.
Again she followed his direction, letting the sensuality of the moment wrap around her.
Take your other hand and cup your breast, then run your fingers over the nipple.
The request brought her up sharply. No.
Why not?
That’s going too far.
You can hear me a lot better than you could a few minutes ago, can’t you?
Yes.
I want to feel your response when you touch your breasts.
She wasn’t willing to comply. Instead, she let herself focus on the physical sensations that came from him.
This is turning you on.
You know it is. You, too.
It’s indecent, she protested.
Nothing we do together is indecent. Not if we both enjoy it.
She could have debated the point. Instead, she stood with her eyes closed, feeling the sense of connection with Jake.
Touch your breast.
This time she let herself go with the flow, raising her hand and stroking her finger across a hardened nipple.
Her own touch sent a jolt of sensation through her. Through him, too, because she knew he felt it.
We should stop this, she said.
Stay with me.
What are you going to do, have me start taking off my clothes out here on the balcony?
We both know that’s not a good idea.
But this is? Instead of just playing, we should see if we can do something with our minds.
Like what?
I don’t know. Make something on one of the floats move. Or turn the lights on and off without touching the switch.
You want to give up this game for something constructive?
She heard the grin in his voice.
Yes. Come out here.
You’re getting ambitious. What float do you want to focus on?
I don’t know. Help me choose.
He was walking to the office door when she heard a low buzzing sound. It didn’t come from her ears. It was something Jake was hearing.
Chapter Ten
What was that?
That’s the alarm I set when we came in. Someone’s here. Stay against the wall and move back to the office.
Sudden dread coursed through her as she peered into the darkened warehouse. Mickey had arranged a meeting, but he was here way early. Like her and Jake he was being cautious, or maybe he’d come prepared to set something up.
She was almost to the door of the office when Jake stepped out, easing the door closed before walking quietly toward her. She inched to
ward him, and he reached for her hand and pressed his shoulder against hers. He was carrying her purse in his free hand, and he gave it to her.
She knew it was because that was where she’d put her gun.
When Jake gave her a meaningful look, she slung the strap of the purse across her chest, then opened it so she could see the revolver, feeling as if she’d stepped into a scene in a cop show.
The weapon should have made her feel safer. Instead, she felt a kind of raw exposure that she couldn’t explain. It was kind of like when she and Jake had been playing around. They’d been focusing on physical sensations and sending silent messages. Somehow she felt as though the guy who’d come in was probing on the same wavelength.
He’d stayed out of sight. Now he walked to the middle of the floor. He was medium height, with blond hair. From where they were standing, they couldn’t see his eyes, but his posture was relaxed as he thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
He looked around, then called, “Come out. I know you’re up there.”
“We’ll stay here,” Jake called back.
The guy shrugged.
“And you are…?” Jake asked.
“Mickey Delaney. And you are Jake Harper and Rachel Gregory.”
“How do you know?”
“You got into some trouble when a woman named Evelyn Morgan was killed.”
Jake remained silent, and Rachel took her cue from him.
“What did she tell you?” Mickey asked.
“Nothing. We didn’t get a chance to talk to her.”
“Who killed her?”
“I’d like to know. You said you had information for us. All you’re doing is asking questions about Evelyn Morgan,” Jake said. “What do you have to say that you couldn’t say over the phone?”
“I think the two of you have recently discovered a talent that you didn’t have before.”
Jake didn’t acknowledge the observation.
“Don’t be modest about it. I’m sure you’re enjoying it.”
“What kind of talent?” Jake asked.
“Mind-to-mind communication.”
Rachel caught her breath.
“How do you know?” Jake asked.
“Because I have it, too,” the guy said.
“Where did it come from?”
Mickey shrugged. “I was hoping you had some insights.”
“I was hoping you did,” Jake countered.
“You got it when the two of you…hooked up,” Mickey said.
