by Celia Ashley
“Friends of mine own the place,” Dan said beside her.
“Well that’s quite the coincidence. Or don’t you believe in coincidence either?”
He didn’t answer.
Of course he did, whether he admitted it or not. He believed in the power of coincidence, of meant-to-be. She knew he had to. If he didn’t, he’d say so. So far, he hadn’t been a man to hold back on his opinions. “Do you think they’d let me in?”
“I’m not asking them to let you in for a look around. They have a business to run.”
“Right.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Nope, it’s fine.” Maris swiveled front in her seat. Goodness, they sounded like an old married couple, half-bickering, and they’d barely met. And like the denizen of a fifty-year marriage, she found herself trying to reassure him. “I understand, really. It would be rude to ask your friends. Let’s go eat, though, I’m starving.”
He, in like form, started to backpedal. “It’s only that I’m not sure what type of thing they might have going this week. Sometimes they have business clients—”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t go back on your original statement. You said it for a reason. And don’t try to appease me. I don’t need appeasing. I don’t need coddling. I don’t need…anything.” God, was that true? Had she designed herself around acceptance to the point of not needing anything from anybody? What a sad state of affairs, if true. “Except coffee,” she amended. “And a couple of eggs on toast. I do need that.”
He laughed. The sound of it startled her, yet warmed her through and through. She managed to stop herself squirming on the seat in response, but she couldn’t prevent grinning in return.
“Your wish is my command,” he said, pulling back out into the street.
Now he was flirting with her. There was something so not right about their exchanges, as if neither one of them could figure out where they stood. And why should they? This was business. He was a police officer—a detective—and she was a citizen looking for assurance about a death. Period. What else need there be?
As Dan Stauffer pulled his car into the lot of the diner, she thought—what else, indeed.
* * * *
Watching Maris surreptitiously from the corner of his eye as she sipped from her second mug of coffee, Dan mopped up the remnants of his eggs with the last piece of toast. She looked tired. Not haggard, only sleepy. He speculated about the reason the death of an aunt she claimed not to have spoken with in years might have affected her more than she admitted.
“So, Maris means ‘by the sea,’ doesn’t it?”
She appeared startled at the sound of his voice. Small wonder. They’d consumed their entire meal without speaking.
“It means ‘of the sea’ actually. There’s a difference.”
“Okay.” He drank a mouthful of orange juice. Since their conversation outside of the Timeless, she’d withdrawn, become less talkative. Why, because she hadn’t gotten her way? And yet she said she understood. Typical woman.
“There’s a reason I was named Maris. A rather interesting story, I think.”
Oh, so now she was willing to chat. He found his thoughts wandering to the nameless woman in the slinky dress exuding the overdose of perfume. That woman hadn’t wanted to chat either. Had something else in mind entirely.
“Do you want to hear it?”
Recalled from his musing, he lowered his glass to the table. “Sure.”
“I was born in the ocean.”
He straightened against the booth cushion. “On the ocean, you mean?”
“No. In.”
“Okay, I’m listening. Let’s hear it.”
“My mother has a high tolerance for pain. She’d been in labor for hours without realizing it. Thought she was having some intestinal issues from something she ate. I wasn’t quite due yet, you see.”
Dan propped his elbow up on the table, leaning his chin on his palm. He couldn’t help the smile forming on his lips. “And then?”
“She decided to go ahead with her daily swim even though her obstetrician had warned her she was too far along. And out I came.”
“Just like that?”
“Not quite like that. There was a bit more drama. She realized what was going on at nearly the last minute and struggled to make it back to shore. Gave birth to me on the tide line. A couple walking along the beach found us and called for an ambulance.”
“Good God.”
Maris laughed—no, giggled really. He’d never been one for giggling women, but the sound of hers was less a giddy twittering than a deep, bubbling of water. “That’s quite the story,” he said. “Got any more?”
“What? Don’t you believe me?”
“I do believe you. And it seems to me that someone whose life started out in that fashion probably has a good deal more to tell.” Across from him, she stilled, her expression settling into one of soft consideration when she met his gaze dead-on. Oh. Right. She had tried to tell him about her “abilities,” and he had scoffed them off.
“What about you?” she asked. “I’m sure you have some stories to share.”
“No. Not really.”
“None? I can see them, waiting at the back of your eyes.” She lifted her hand and pointed from one to the other on his face.
He frowned. “Nope. Lived a pretty boring life, all things considered.”
“But you’re a cop.”
“In a boring town.”
“Not true. Even I remember that much.”
Dan shifted in his seat, reaching for the dregs of his orange juice. “Perhaps things have changed.”
“And perhaps not. The reputation of this town goes back beyond our combined ages times four. I can’t see what might have changed so drastically. Modernization really doesn’t make a difference.”
“You don’t know how old I am.” Dan drained his glass.
“I can make a good guess.”
“Don’t bother.”
Maris turned her head in search of the waitress. Spotting the woman, she lifted her hand to draw the woman closer. “Could I have the check please?”
“I’ve got it,” Dan growled.
“I asked you. I’ve got it.”
“You’re driving me crazy.”
“In a matter of hours? Goodness, I’m slipping. I should have driven you there within moments of our meeting.”
“Maris.”
That got her attention, stopped her rambling repartee. She folded her hands on the table, the wing of her brows lifting slowly.
Dan leaned forward. “Are you flirting with me? Because you shouldn’t—”
“No.”
“You’re not?”
“Flirting? No. I don’t do that. I don’t know how to do that. I can connect to a person’s thoughts sometimes, but I can’t always tell the truth of them, you know? So flirting is a risky game I don’t play.”
Dan sat back again, contemplating the woman before him. What female didn’t flirt? Yet, he believed what she said, or at least that she believed it. So did that mean this effervescent, mysterious, exasperating personality was truly her own? He didn’t know whether to get up and run or bask in it awhile.
He folded his arms over his chest. “What’s the point of the feather?”
She reached up and fingered the white plume hanging from her lobe. “It’s the feather of a dove. I found it on the ground and made it into an earring to remind me to maintain peace in my life. It feels good against my neck, too.”
He bit his tongue at what he could only assume was an unconscious sensuality in her last statement. Either that or she was an accomplished liar, fooling him into trusting that she wasn’t a flirt. God, she confused the hell out of him.
“Peace is something you need in your life, is it? What do you do for a living?”
The waitress had returned with the check, and Mar
is reached into her purse for the cash to pay the bill. “I’m a librarian.”
“A—a librarian?” Laughter erupted from his lips.
“Yes, that’s the old-fashioned term, but I prefer it. Keep the change.” This to the waitress. “What’s so funny?”
“Just trying to picture you in a room full of books, that’s all. And why the need for peace with a job like that.”
“There’s more to my job than returning books to their proper place. Besides, it’s the assistants who do that. Students mostly. I like books. I like being around them. Better than people, if I must be honest.”
“I see. So you’re not a people-person?”
“No.”
“Could have fooled me,” he said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Maris gathered her purse, dropping her napkin onto her empty plate.
“I don’t know.” Dan grabbed his sunglasses from the table. “I don’t. But you don’t strike me as a loner.”
“Well, that’s exactly what I am.”
Dan followed Maris out, observing the way she moved. What did a woman do with all that sexuality when she spent her days avoiding people? A quick picture flashed into his mind that he swiftly dismissed. He didn’t need to go there. He was trying his best not to be enticed by Maris Granger. He really was.
He unlocked the car, and she climbed into the passenger side without waiting for him. As he approached the driver’s door, his phone chirped in his pocket. He yanked it out. “Stauffer.”
Opening the door, he stood outside the car, the phone against his ear. Maris leaned across the seats, peering up at him. He ignored the concern on her face.
“Dan, it’s Rankin. Glad I didn’t place a bet on that Mabry woman. Not natural at all. Looks like somebody poisoned her.”
Chapter 6
Maris frowned at Dan, blinking with each smack of his hand against the steering wheel, her stomach sinking into her ankles at his reaction.
“I never should have let you into your aunt’s house. Stupid mistake. A rookie mistake. The kind of thing that’ll get your ass handed to you.”
“What’s happened?” Maris asked for the third time. “Tell me.”
“You mean you don’t already know?”
“Sarcasm? Lovely.”
Dan inhaled and released a slow, steady stream of air. “I’m not being sarcastic. Your great-aunt didn’t die of natural causes. The ME is thinking poison and testing for the type and how it was administered. I’m sorry. And I’ve screwed up by bringing you to her house. It’s a crime scene, and now it’s been compromised.”
“You didn’t know.”
“No, but you did. Or at least you hinted that you did. That opens up a whole different can of worms.”
“You don’t think—”
“I don’t know what I think.”
Maris bit her lip, staring out the window. Dan leaned closer to the wheel, yanking his right hand off it and curling the fingers into a fist, which he smacked once in the middle of his forehead.
“What? Dan, what?” Calling him by his first name appeared to calm him in some fashion. Jaw set, he leaned back in his seat.
“I remembered something. No big deal. I’m going to take you back to your car, and you’ll head over to your hotel and stay put, got it? Where are you staying, by the way?”
Rubbing her eyes, Maris shook her head. “Nearby. I don’t remember what it’s called. Some little place.” God, she hoped there was a motel matching that description in the vicinity. “I’ll call you from my room when I get there to give you the exact name and the main phone number.”
“Okay, fine. Wait a second. Where did you get my number?”
Maris pulled her cell phone out and waved it a couple of times in the air. “You called me, remember? It’s in my phone.”
“Oh for the love of—right. I forgot.”
“You need to stop being so suspicious.” She turned in the seat to get a better look at him. “And jumpy. And skeptical. And secretive.”
“Secretive? What does that mean?”
He knew exactly what she meant. His eyes told all, as did the fact he’d zeroed in on that comment above the others. He’d never admit to it, of course, but he understood the secrets she referenced. She decided to drop it, though. Now was not the time to address those things he kept hidden. Nor was it any of her business. She had no right to the knowledge she received, whether intuitive or clairvoyant, and no duty to impart it. That was one of the problems of being gifted in this fashion. It was very difficult to decipher when to open your mouth or when you were better off stuffing what you had seen into some deep, dark corner.
Dan pulled alongside her car, his vehicle facing the wrong way on the street. She got out, bending to look in at him, her fingers curled over the doorframe. “Thanks for the company at breakfast.”
“Thanks for asking…and buying. Do not, and I repeat, do not leave the area. Go back to where you’re staying and dig in. You might be there for a while. You call me, or I’ll call you. There are going to be questions, I’m sure.”
Maris nodded and straightened, noticing two police cars parked in front of her aunt’s house. She pulled her car key from her purse and pressed the button to unlock the driver’s door while shutting the passenger side of Dan’s. He pulled away slowly and up against the curb, still facing the wrong way. He’d climbed out before she’d gotten into her vehicle. She hovered outside to observe his energetic stride as he took the steps two at a time, stretching an arm out and yanking the door open before he’d reached the top of the stairs.
Maris slid down into the seat and shut the door. She clutched the cross bar of the steering wheel with both hands. Poison. Was this, then, why Alva had reached out to her at the very end of her life? To insist on the truth? But no, there had to be more. The results of testing would have been the same whether Maris had insisted on further investigation or not. Apparently, the medical examiner had made the discovery in the process of doing his job despite the belief held that Alva had died of old age.
“Who did this to you?”
But no answers came to her out of the air. If only it were that easy.
Knuckles rapped on the passenger side window. Maris jerked and turned, finding Dan’s eyes gazing in at her through the glass. She rolled the window down.
“You’re still here.”
“I know. I’m leaving. I was just thinking about Aunt Alva.”
“Understandable. Since you didn’t leave yet, would you mind coming inside for a couple of minutes? Hands in your pockets, like I said before.”
Maris’s heart began a faster rhythm in her breast. Without a word, she disconnected her seatbelt and got back out. She stood a moment in the street with her hand on the roof, steadying herself. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Come with me, please. I need to show you something.”
Oh, God, oh God.
“Maris, are you all right?”
She nodded, her breath refusing to enter her lungs. She sucked in a gulp of air that sounded like a gasp in the sudden stillness. Dan shot her a look but said nothing and stepped around the back of the car to take her elbow. Maris let him, his grip strong and warm through the woven knit of her sweater. As they neared the porch steps, Maris removed her arm from his hand, climbing unaided to the front door.
What had they found? She’d been so careful.
“In here.”
Maris allowed Dan to take her arm again, steering her toward the parlor. Once there, she pushed both hands down into the pockets of her skirt, balling them into fists. Beside her, Dan nodded his head toward the table. The tiny hairs on her nape danced like a field in the wind.
Aunt Alva’s cards, in the family for at least two, if not three generations, lay in an entirely different pattern across the paisley tablecloth.
* * * *
“Head between your knees. Don’t get up yet. What the fuck just happened?”
H
e had a mouth, Dan Stauffer did. Maris might have laughed if the shifting blackness wasn’t still threatening her. That and the nausea. She really didn’t want to throw up in front of this man. Not in front of any of them. From the corner of her eye, she could see the officers’ gazes focused on her, some concerned, others speculative. She bent her head forward again, burying her brow into the sling of her skirt between her parted knees.
Breathe. Breathe, child. The Sight will sometimes do this to you, but it will pass.
She did, in and out, hampered by her position on the floor. Fingers kneaded the back of her neck. Dan’s. He couldn’t have had any awareness of what he was doing. She hoped none of the others noticed his ministrations. She was quite aware of the intimacy of his actions, but perhaps the men around him would view his touch as merely functional.
“You all right now? Let me help you up.”
“Sure. Just…”
“Give me your hand.”
Did he not hear his own voice? He sounded like someone who cared. He had no business using that tone with her. Not here. Not in front of men who would wonder. Ignoring the fingers he held out to her, she pressed her palm to the wall for balance and stood without assistance. The room spun a little and settled.
“There we go,” he said. “Right as rain.”
He sounded jovial now, distant. Good. Stay there. The other officers muttered a few words as they moved away, good-natured on the surface as if thankful she had recovered, but she sensed their underlying confusion. Maris drew several more breaths until the nausea abated. Dan stepped closer.
“What the hell just happened? I’m not kidding.”
Wow. The man was all over the place, his emotions bouncing like a ping-pong ball. Maris looked him in the eye, held his gaze, tried her best to steady him. After a moment, the tempo of his respiration began to match hers. He took a step back.
“Well?” Gentle now, but official.
How could she tell him the impressions swirling in her brain? If they made no sense to her, they certainly wouldn’t to him. She jerked her chin toward the table. “I didn’t do that. Is that why you brought me in here, because you thought I did?”
