Peril for Your Thoughts (Mind Reader Mystery)

by Kari Lee Townsend

  “And that’s why he’s locked up right now until we get to the bottom of this whole mess.”

  “Which I’m grateful for. So you can relax, Detective. I’m safe.” Safe from killers and apparently safe from a night of pleasure as well. I mentally sighed, but on the outside I gave him my best I’ll-be-a-good-girl smile.

  “I’m not sure about anything yet.”

  “Well, I am, so can you take me to bed?”

  He blinked. “Come again?”

  I flushed to the root of my hair, turning my blonde hair a flaming red in my mind’s eye. “I meant, I want you to take me to bed. Or to the door, I mean, you know to keep me safe so I can go to bed. Alone. Not that you’re not appealing because you are. Very much so in fact, but you must hear that all the time, or not. I don’t know what you hear. How could I, right? And then you can leave, or not, I mean you don’t have to tuck me in or anything. Oh God, I’m really tired after today’s events. Ignore me. I’m being stupid.”

  “Kalli,” he said with a soft, husky voice. “You’re not stupid, you’re unusual. Look at that. We have something in common. You just need to learn to relax.”

  He studied me curiously until I squirmed, and then he went for it. He moved in before I could think twice and locked his lips to mine. Heat. Intense heat infused my every cell as his mouth worked its magic. My lips parted ever so slightly, and his tongue didn’t hesitate to slip between them. Little zings of pleasure spread throughout my body as his tongue touched and tasted and … spread germs. I started to stiffen, but then his arms wrapped around me and his big hands caressed every inch of my body that they could reach.

  Oh, God, you feel like heaven, I heard, and instantly I relaxed. Your skin is like silk, and you taste so sweet. My anxiety faded away, the voices pointing out everything that could go wrong from kissing him were dwarfed by his thoughts, allowing the feelings he was creating inside me to build. Baby, you’re so beautiful you take my breath away. The things I want to do to you all night long. I didn’t even worry that they might cause some serious internal damage to my organs. At least I didn’t worry too much. I was too busy basking in pleasure. If only you weren’t so pig-headed. You’re gonna get yourself killed, and Jaz is going to go to jail for life if you’re not careful.

  “Stop thinking like that,” I muttered around his lips. “Keep thinking sexy.”

  He pulled his head away from mine and arched a thick black brow. “What are you talking about?”

  It was like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on me. I suddenly was acutely aware of his hands on my body, and couldn’t stop wondering where they had been and when he had washed them last. Not to mention he’d had coffee recently. When was the last time he brushed his teeth, and did he floss daily? Maybe I should ask him. What was I doing? Oh, Lordy, the moment was ruined. I pushed him away and sat up, adjusting my clothing and moving closer to the car door.

  “Oh, nothing. I could just tell you have a lot on your mind, and like I said, I really am tired. I’ll see myself to the door.” I quickly climbed out of his car and bolted up the walk. Risking one last peek over my shoulder, I could see by the expression on his face he was confused. It clearly said, What the hell did I do this time? Meanwhile I was giddy as a schoolgirl. For a little while there, things had been working. His thoughts overrode my brain’s resistance, urging my body to seek what it craved. It wasn’t until reality intruded on his end. For once I wasn’t the one who needed to stop overthinking things. He was. And I knew just what to do. I had a plan. I would seduce him. That would get him thinking sexy for sure.

  Who would have thought I would ever want a guy with a one-track mind?

  In the wee hours of Friday morning, I was in bed dreaming of ways I would seduce Detective Dreamy now that I knew intimacy was a probability and not just a possibility anymore. Jaz was sound asleep in her room. I was tempted to run some ideas by her, but she slept like the dead. Nothing would wake her short of an earthquake, which we didn’t often get in Connecticut, and when we did, they were mild. So for now it looked like I was alone with my thoughts.

  Or maybe I wasn’t …

  A noise sounded in the living room. I bolted straight up in bed. It was faint, but I could definitely hear something. Maybe it was Prissy. I crept out of bed and eased my door open. It was still so dark out I couldn’t see a thing, and I didn’t dare turn on a light for fear of what I might find.

  Had Bobby broken out of jail and come after me for ruining his life? Or maybe he was still in jail, and Wilma was coming after me. Though, last I talked to her, she was in the hospital. Or maybe it was one of Scott’s enemies: a pissed-off husband or a jilted ex-lover or someone he owed money to. I was starting to freak myself out, so I took three deep breaths and tried to calm myself as I looked for Prissy.

  “Prissy,” I whispered, feeling my way into the living room. “Here kitty kitty. Come to Mama.”

  Prissy brushed up against my leg, and I jumped higher than Frona on a pogo stick. When my heart finally returned to normal, I flicked on a light and blinked rapidly until my vision adjusted. Glancing around, I didn’t see anything, so I let out an explosion of air and gave my cat a scolding look. “That was very naughty, young lady. You nearly gave me a—”

  Something hit me in the back of the head, and pain shot through my skull. I stumbled forward but caught myself before I fell. Opening my mouth to scream, I tried to turn around to look at my attacker, but gloved hands wrapped around my throat before I had a chance. My windpipe was cut off, and I couldn’t breathe. I briefly wondered if my vocal chords would be damaged and I wouldn’t be able to speak again. But then I realized I might die, and it wouldn’t matter anyway.

  That sent adrenaline surging through me. I tried hard to read my attacker’s thoughts, hoping to gain the person’s identity, but the thick gloves prevented it. I could feel intense animosity and hear faint gurgling, but the actual thoughts were muffled. Bare skin on skin worked best, or even thin clothing worked okay. But the thicker the clothing, the less clear the words were.

  And thick leather gloves were nearly impossible.

  Air. I needed air. I clawed at the gloves to no avail. I tried to twist and turn, but that didn’t work either. I felt so helpless. My eyes blinked over and over, and the world around me started to close in with a dark inky black. My limbs tingled, and I could feel myself losing consciousness. I glanced at Prissy, realizing it was the last time I would see her, which brought on the realization that as much as my family might annoy me, I would miss them terribly. And Detective Dreamy … I couldn’t even think about him. The pain in my chest intensified, and the last thing I heard before the world around me faded to darkness was a high-pitched shriek of a meow.

  I woke up a couple minutes later and blinked my eyes open, gasping for air. My neck ached, my lungs burned, and my body felt like it had been sat on by the beast. Memories of what had happened came flooding back to me. I grabbed my throat and wilted in relief that the gloves were gone. The gloves. I surged to a sitting position, then grabbed my head as the blood rush made me dizzy. Once the room stopped spinning, I looked around but didn’t see anything.

  Not even Miss Priss.

  Panic seized me. I crawled over to the phone, trying not to make too much noise, and dialed 911. Then I sat back and waited. It was only a matter of minutes before I heard the ambulance. Boomer burst through the door in full cop mode, looking like he was on the set of the latest detective movie. He glanced once at me, all business like, and then proceeded to do a sweep of the house, Sherlock Holmes style. I didn’t have the heart to point out he looked more like Watson.

  Max charged through the door next with his equipment in tow and gray eyes looking terrified. He came to a stop by my side, breathing heavy, his perfect body shaking. “Oh, my God, Kalli, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?” he blurted, rapid-firing questions at me as he rubbed a hand over and over the top of his sandy-brown flattop.

  Usually he was the calm, cool, and collected one in em
ergencies, but he looked frazzled and on the verge of a breakdown right now. He felt my pulse. I’m such an idiot. I should never have talked to her the way I did. I don’t even like Ana. How could I have been so stupid to shut her out and now almost lose her? I would never forgive myself if anything bad happened to her.

  “It’s okay, Max.” I squeezed his hand. “I’m okay.” I pulled my wrist away and patted his hand, trying not to show my discomfort at his touch.

  “What the hell happened?” He sat back on his heels, studying me intently but looking more relaxed.

  “Honestly, I’m not sure. I woke up early this morning, dreaming about … well, just dreaming. And then I heard a noise from the living room. I don’t know why, but it felt like something was wrong. I can’t really explain it, but something wasn’t right. So I went out to see where Prissy was, and she startled me. I turned on the light and scolded her, when suddenly someone hit me from behind.”

  “What did they hit you with?” He inspected the back of my head, then broke an ice pack and had me hold it over the bump.

  “I don’t know, but it was really hard.” Oh, my goodness, what if I had a concussion? Or what if the blow had literally dislodged my brain. It could be floating about freestyle in my skull, giving a whole new meaning to scatterbrained. What if little pieces fell off and actually scattered about willy-nilly? I might never be the same again. Another thought dawned on me …

  What if it ruined my gift?

  I started panting for breath, my limbs tingling and knees feeling like jelly. Grabbing Max’s hand, I stared at him and looked deep into his eyes, waiting for something. Anything. But nothing happened. He just looked back at me. I was about to hyperventilate and pass out from a full-blown panic attack when I suddenly heard, Well, now, maybe I have a chance with her after all.

  “Oh, thank God … and no!” I quickly let go of his hand.

  He frowned and looked at me like I’d completely lost my marbles.

  “I meant no, don’t hurt me. Post-traumatic stress, I guess,” I said by way of explanation. “I forgot to mention my attacker strangled me.”

  His body language registered alarm once more as he inspected my neck with a worried expression on his face, then he shined his little flashlight in my eyes and studied my pupils. “Are you feeling dizzy or nauseated? Headache? Between the blow to the head and the loss of oxygen, you may have a concussion.”

  “I would have died if it wasn’t for Prissy.” I blinked. “Oh, my gosh, where is Miss Priss?”

  I tried to get up, but Max blocked me. “We’ll find her. Don’t worry.”

  Boomer came from down the hall with Jaz in tow, carrying Miss Priss, whose calico fur still stood on end. Prissy leapt from Jaz’s arms the second she saw me. She pranced over to me in a dignified fashion even though I could tell she was worried by her stiff gait. She was so like me. She gingerly sat on my lap, not daring to lick my arm. She knew better, bless her little heart. She kept everyone at bay, protecting me like my sweet little hero. I stroked her fur so she would know it was okay.

  “The coast is clear. No one is in the house except you two,” Detective Matheson said.

  “Why would someone be in the house? Nothing looks tampered with or stolen?” Jaz said, all rumpled and looking half asleep still.

  “Because I stopped them first,” I replied with a hoarse voice. I rubbed my neck and tried to swallow through the pain.

  Max helped me to my unsteady feet.

  “Holy crap, are you okay?” Jaz asked, sounding fully alert now.

  “I’ve been better.” I looked at Boomer. “Is Bobby still in jail?”

  He nodded. “And Wilma is still in the hospital, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “So what does that mean?” Jaz asked, looking a little concerned.

  “That the killer is still out there, and they’re not going to stop until they get what they want.”

  “Which is?” Jaz asked, looking downright scared for the first time.

  “You dead or behind bars is my guess,” Boomer answered with a serious tone. “Now are you going to listen to me?”

  “What’s going on?” Nik asked, still in his wrinkled pajamas and bare feet with dark messy hair sticking out in every direction as he burst through the door and took in the scene before him. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. I guess Jaz wasn’t the only sound sleeper.

  “Someone broke in, but Kalli stopped them, and then they tried to kill her, but Miss Priss saved the day,” Jaz blurted, sounding like a chipmunk near hysteria.

  Boomer patted her back, and she launched herself into his arms. He didn’t even hesitate, wrapping his strong arms around her securely until she stopped shaking.

  Nik’s piercing blue eyes settled on me, and I wished he’d do the same. I wouldn’t be so lucky based on the hard angry look he was nailing me with. I swayed. Max quickly caught me, leaving his arms securely locked around me, only his touch did nothing to settle my nerves. I didn’t have the strength or energy to move away, so I just stood there, which did not help my situation any.

  “Let me get this straight. Someone tried to kill you, and you called him, even though I was right next door?” he asked accusingly.

  “Um, hello. I didn’t call him, I called 911. The number one is supposed to call in an emergency. If you would just listen to reason and quit being ridiculous, I would explain,” I said.

  “No need. A picture’s worth a thousand words. I’ll just take my ridiculous self and go, since I’m obviously not needed here,” he responded and then walked out my door—and, I was afraid, out of my life for good.

  That’s right, pal. She’s finally mine.

  “Never gonna happen, Max,” I said and found the strength to step out of the obviously confused EMT’s arms. So much for being safe and so much for my seduction. I had a feeling after today, it was never gonna happen with Detective Dreamy either, and at this rate, I wasn’t sure I wanted it to now anyway. So there.

  Stubborn mule!

  CHAPTER 21

  * * *

  A couple hours later, I sat waiting for my walking papers in the hospital, hoping they would release me soon. Most people hated the smells and sounds of a hospital, but the smells of cleaning chemicals and antiseptics and monitoring devices actually comforted me. I just didn’t like doctors and nurses who poked and prodded and invaded my personal space way too many times. This time I didn’t have a choice.

  Turns out I did have a concussion and a bruised neck, but other than that, I was going to live. You’d never know it according to my mother. She’d literally rallied the family, and they had shown up at the hospital before the ambulance had even arrived. It was uncanny how she knew what was happening all over the town, virtually seconds after it happened.

  “She doesn’t look good, Ophelia,” my yiayia Dido said. My pop and papou were down in the cafeteria, no doubt giving advice on how to improve the food, but the women had refused to leave my side. “I don’t like her color.” Yiayia shook her head, and her gray bun slipped a bit. She pulled some aloe out of her apron pocket.

  “Don’t put that stuff on me, Yiayia. I’m fine. People are going to think we’re even weirder than we are,” I said, looking around. A couple of nurses and doctors walked by in the hall, but no one so much as glanced inside the room.

  “Oh, posh. Who gives a whoopty whoo what anyone thinks? Besides, I’ve changed the diapers of most of these people from back in the day when I ran my daycare service. No one would dare say a word against me. They know better.”

  “Whoopty whoo, whoopty whoo, I give a whoopty whoo,” Frona chanted while bouncing on my bed.

  “Her color’s fine, Ma,” my mother said to Yiayia as she grabbed Frona’s arm to still her.

  “Thank you,” I said, shocked that my mother finally agreed with me on something.

  “It’s her head I worry about.” She reached into her polyester pocket and pulled out her roll of Duct tape. “Here, let me cover that bump.”

 
I knew I had spoken too soon. “Good Lord, you two.” I slid off the bed before either of them could touch me, feeling much stronger than earlier so long as I didn’t move too quickly. “I’m the one who’s fine. You’re the one I’m worried about,” I said to my mother, pointing my finger in her face.

  She froze and looked alarmingly guilty, which was never a good thing. Patting her black beehive, she asked, “Why?”

  “You know why.” Eleni snorted, then gave her a whoops-I’m-sorry look.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” I stated suspiciously, crossing my arms over my hospital gown. “I saw that man follow you yesterday from the steps of the jailhouse. He’s not from around here, yet I’ve seen him in town lately.”

  “Kalli’s got a boyfriend, Kalli’s got a boyfriend,” Frona sang, spinning in circles while sitting on the chair with wheels.

  “I told you all. Detective Stevens is not my boyfriend,” I replied in exasperation.

  “Not McDreamy,” Frona continued, “Mr. Cleany. Cheater cheater pumpkin eater.”

  “Mr. Cleany?” I rubbed my temple, my headache threatening to come back.

  “Squeaky clean, baldy bean,” Frona kept singing and spinning, her lopsided pigtails twirling away.

  “For the love of Zeus.” Eleni stopped the chair, and Frona fell on the floor giggling. “Frona, stop it. You’re confusing poor Kalli.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said, almost afraid to hear the answer to my next question. “You mean the bald man I saw wasn’t after Ma?”

  “I knew this would happen,” my mother said, wringing her hands and pacing about the room. “That floozy has you mixed up in that awful online dating. I’ve always said no good can come from the Twitter. Imagine people twitting about. It’s just wrong, I tell you. Wrong!”