Blinded

by Teyla Branton

  Picking up the music box, I headed with it for the back. I’d have to fix the music assembly before trying to sell it. Tawnia wasn’t waiting for me in the back room, and some part of me knew she wouldn’t be, or she’d have mentioned the possibility of returning. Instead, Shannon sat at the long worktable where I cleaned and repaired my antiques. His fingers drummed on the scarred wood, his eyes fixed on his phone lying flat on the surface. So much for hoping Peirce and his partner had simply been called away. Shannon must have come to take over.

  “Hi,” I said, forcing a cheerfulness I didn’t feel.

  Shannon arched a brow, regarding me silently. He stopped drumming the table and set aside his phone.

  With a longing peek at my easy chair, I set down the music box and pulled myself up on the end of the table near him, tucking my feet under me. “What?”

  “What’s the point of assigning officers to watch you if you don’t stay put?”

  I shrugged. “I had a quick errand. I didn’t want to bother them. Wait, does Peirce know I ditched him? Because I really don’t want to make him hate me.”

  “No, he doesn’t. I only found out myself after I let them go and came inside. They did see you outside briefly, but they didn’t realize you’d gone next door. You shouldn’t have left.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You would have ditched them too.”

  He pushed back his chair and came to his feet, reaching for me, his hand sending sparks of electricity rippling over my skin. He pulled me to the edge of the table until my legs dangled, wrapping his arms around me, his mouth coming down over mine. He didn’t need to say a word because I knew he was reliving that morning and how he’d found me in the rug. I knew he worried about a time when he would arrive too late. But we both knew I wouldn’t quit. Not now. Just as he wouldn’t.

  “I missed you,” I said when we came up for air.

  He laughed. “We’ve been together almost every day this week.”

  “I meant before. You were gone too long.” We hadn’t talked about being apart yet, and I needed to say it.

  “I told them no more undercover. Not now. Maybe not ever.”

  “Good.”

  Then we were kissing again, and the time we’d spent apart drained away as though it had never stood between us. I was dizzy, but now I couldn’t say it was because of this morning’s blast. Whatever, I let it take me.

  Of course it couldn’t last. Shannon was a detective, and he knew me well enough to understand that I hadn’t simply dashed to the grocery store. He knew I’d be working the case.

  “So what did you do?” he asked when he finally pulled away.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing. Did you find anything at the other estate sale?”

  “You mean besides a lot of other people’s junk?” Shannon paused. “Not really.”

  “Something strange happen?”

  “I guess you could call it that. The son of the deceased showed up at the sale, claiming that some of his dad’s personal belongings hadn’t been transferred to him, or more particularly a watch and some coins. Then a customer came up and started haggling with one of the employees over a bust of George Washington that was priced at nine hundred dollars. The son claimed his father had only paid two hundred the year before so why not give it to the man for less? The employee sold it, but Paige took the buyer’s information in case there’s a problem later.”

  I chewed on the corner of my lower lip. “Overpriced? Hmm, the rug seemed expensive, too.” I didn’t know if that meant anything, but it was a connection of sorts. “Where’d the customer find the bust, do you know?”

  “A closet, I think. Is that important?” His eyes were locked on my mouth. I stopped chewing my lip, heat rushing through me.

  “Maybe not.” I reached for him again.

  He put his arms around me but didn’t lean in for a kiss. “Now you. Where did you go?”

  “I went to see JoAnna Hamilton.”

  The confession took a few seconds to register. Then he dropped his arms and exploded. “You did what?”

  “Shh. Keep it down. I might have customers out there.” I hadn’t heard the jangling of the bells over the door, but a customer might have wandered over from Jake’s. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t alone. Ace was outside, and I got him to come along.”

  His eyes were stormy now, his hands like vises. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  “I guess not.” Given, I meant, what happened to Ace’s last partner. “I did have my GPS signal on.”

  “I know.”

  So that’s what he’d been doing on his phone, following my return to the shop. I didn’t know if that comforted or annoyed me.

  “Hamilton’s just an old woman,” I told him, “though not as old-looking as her age would have you think. She’s well-preserved. Anyway, she’s hiding something from Russo, something she’s afraid I’ll read on their contract.”

  “So she decided to do something about it by kidnapping you?”

  “Maybe not. At least she didn’t make a move while I was at her house. She only asked me not to reveal anything personal to Russo. Offered me a hundred thousand dollars, in fact.”

  He thought about that for a moment. “That still doesn’t mean she’s harmless. You had Ace with you, and she wouldn’t be able to explain if you’d disappeared with him there.”

  “I thought you didn’t like Ace.”

  “I don’t. But he was a good cop—once. I’d still rather you not trust him.”

  I knew why so I didn’t push. “Anyway, the contract is about nanotechnology and 3D printers.” I reached for the music box where I’d placed it close to the wall. “She made an exact copy of this. I couldn’t tell them apart. She thinks that soon they’ll be able to print organs using nanotechnology and cells from the patient’s own body.”

  He gave a short whistle. “I’ve read about that research, but I thought it was only in the beginning stages. Maybe after our guys finish the background on her, I’ll go check it out myself. But do you really think she had nothing to do with this morning?”

  I hesitated. “She’s the only person I can think of who seems to have a reason to get me out of the way, but I didn’t feel in any danger there. Maybe she’s changed her mind.”

  “Maybe?”

  “Well, if she didn’t do it, her competition could be behind what happened, though it seems unlikely. How would they know about me unless they have a plant in Russo’s operation? And stopping me wouldn’t necessarily stop the contract from going through. Besides, wouldn’t they wait to see if I possibly discovered something that would destroy the deal?” I sighed. “For that matter, we don’t even know how Hamilton found out Russo wanted me to read their contract.”

  Shannon frowned, his finger tracing the bare skin of my arm. His touch alternately sent flames and goose bumps rippling over my flesh—heaven after so long apart. “The In Loving Memory people might be responsible. I mean, if they have been offing old people and stealing from their estates, it would seem natural for them to cover it up.”

  “The rug did have an imprint. But again, how would they know I could read it?” I chewed on my lip some more. “How did the owner of the house at this morning’s sale die, anyway? Was she the one who fell down the stairs?”

  Releasing me, Shannon pulled out his cell phone and checked his notes. “Yep. That’s it. But there was no rug in the hallway at the top of the stairs when the police were called in. At least none that I see in the crime photos or in the write-up.”

  I met his gaze solemnly. “I believe she was murdered.”

  “The rug is pretty much a loss. We put a rush on it, but forensics hasn’t found anything useful.”

  “According to the imprint, that rug was lying at the top of some stairs less than a month ago.”

  “That would match the time she died.” Shannon sighed. “There’s nothing we can do but keep checking the estate sales In Loving Memory conducts, though I don’t know how well it’ll work after blowin
g our cover today.”

  “They probably won’t remember me. I was in the rug, remember? And I didn’t go back and drill anyone.”

  He nodded, his brow creasing. “I suppose.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t really want you to go to any more sales. If you’re right, they could be planning another murder right now. And who’s to say they’ll stop at old people?”

  The thought was sobering. A background check had shown nothing out of the ordinary with the owners or employees, so all we had to go on were a few complaints from heirs of the deceased and a sudden increase of business—both of which could be explained away. Except for me and the now-destroyed rug. But without my ability, I wouldn’t be able to find another piece of evidence, even if I went to more of their estate sales.

  “You need to stop worrying about all of this right now.” He put away his phone and slid his arm around me. “You should rest.” There was a plea in his voice I couldn’t ignore.

  I snuggled against him. “Okay.” For now, I meant.

  “I’m going to talk to the business owners tomorrow morning,” Shannon said. “If you come with me, you might be able to discover something.” His suggestion showed me I wasn’t fooling him at all. He knew I wouldn’t be spending the day in bed, and if I was with him, he could keep an eye on me. Maybe that wasn’t all bad.

  “If I go, it’ll blow my cover.”

  “It might save a life.”

  Not without my ability. “Look, there’s something I need to tell—”

  The jangling of my bells ran over my words, signaling a visitor to my shop. I jumped down from the table, glad to have my confession about my missing talent delayed. The sudden movement sent the world around me shifting. For an instant, I thought I felt the thin invisible cord connecting me with my twin, but it was gone almost as soon as I noticed it. Probably wishful thinking.

  “You okay?” Shannon was at my side, his hands steadying me.

  “Yeah. Just tired.”

  “Why don’t you close up, and I’ll give you a ride home?”

  “What about our date?” I wasn’t letting him go that soon, not when I’d just gotten him back.

  He laughed. “We’ll watch a movie.”

  Usually, I’d opt for dinner and dancing, but tonight I’d rather sleep. A movie was a good compromise. I picked up the music box. Maybe I’d have a chance to look at the music assembly at home later.

  We emerged into the store to find Claire Philpot striding powerfully up to my counter. The fifty-something attorney had her dark, shoulder-length hair down today, unlike the other times I’d met her, and it made her softer, more attractive. She wore a short-sleeved burgundy pantsuit with matching flirty high heels and slightly dangling earrings. Her light brown eyes were accentuated by subtle makeup, applied by an expert hand, turning ordinary features into something more. She looked exactly what she was—a confident, successful woman, who enjoyed the good life.

  Except today nearly imperceptible lines of worry along her forehead made me aware of an inner anxiety, and her eyes were slightly reddened, as though she hadn’t slept well or had spent part of the night crying.

  “Hello,” I said, unsure how to address her. Paige always called her Claire, and I thought of her as such, but I really didn’t know her all that well. “Did you come to pick up Jazzy?”

  “No, my assistant picked up Jessica an hour ago. That’s not why I’m here.”

  Jessica. That’s right, her ward’s real name was Jessica Sandstrom. I’d almost forgotten. My own father, Douglas Rayne—already called Winter by his friends because of the early onset of white hair—had legally changed his name to Winter Rain after falling in love with my mother, Summer. Because of his example, I called Jessica by the name she’d chosen, but it appeared Claire didn’t believe in placating the child. I hoped it wasn’t too long before the girl grew up enough to use her legal name, or at least picked something that better suited her.

  “Okay,” I said. When Claire didn’t continue, I added, “Is there something I can do for you?” Jazzy had been right, apparently; the situation must be serious for Claire to come to me of her own accord.

  “It’s about the company my husband worked for, McGregor and Clancy. They’ve brought a lawsuit against me—or rather my husband’s estate. They claim he embezzled funds before he died, and now they suddenly want the money back. However, I went over my husband’s accounts very carefully before I switched everything to my name, and there was no indication that the law firm is correct. There were no incoming funds near the day in question, no odd transfers. They don’t believe me, of course. In the lawsuit, I’m named as an accomplice.”

  Shannon snorted. “They can’t prove anything, if there’s nothing to prove. So give them the information about his accounts and let them try.”

  “It’s not that simple.” Claire brought a hand to my counter as though steadying herself. “This sort of allegation could damage my career and set me back years. My husband, when he died, was getting ready to leave that firm precisely because he didn’t like the way they played out their cases in the papers. It helped draw public support and win cases, but he didn’t feel justice was always accomplished that way. He felt terrible when guilty people sometimes got off and innocent people were damaged by the publicity. Either way, it wasn’t good law—not in his opinion or in mine. That’s why he was going to leave.”

  “Do you think pinning this loss of funds on your husband was retaliation for his plan to quit?” I asked, settling myself on the stool across the counter from her. Apparently, this was going to take a while.

  “As far as I know, Bridger never got the chance to tell them he was leaving. His heart attack was unexpected.” Grief edged her voice, and I knew she still mourned him. This was the other side of love, one half without the other. I wondered if the half left behind ever mended. It hadn’t with my father. He’d mourned Summer—and stayed faithful to her—every remaining day of his life.

  I glanced at Shannon. He could be that for me, if the loss I’d felt when he was undercover was any indication. As though sensing my thoughts, he stepped closer until our jean-clad legs touched, sending heat licking up my skin, despite the material separating us.

  “That’s not all,” Claire said, her voice taking on a puzzled note. “There was something in his accounts I couldn’t explain, but it wasn’t related to the company.”

  Ah-hah, I thought. This is why she’s really here. “What do you mean?”

  “A ticket purchased to Japan during a time I know my husband didn’t go abroad. I mean, one of his clients at McGregor and Clancy had a company there, and he’d been over to visit with them, but not at that time. Also, a sizeable amount of money was transferred from his accounts three different times to accounts I don’t recognize.”

  I found that interesting. “So money was actually missing, not appearing without explanation.”

  “Exactly. I remember seeing the three transfers when I was joining the accounts, but it didn’t seem relevant. I mean, all his other funds were there, and those transfers really weren’t much if you counted the overall total. He worked a lot of years and did consulting on the side. If he wanted to make some purchases, well, more power to him.”

  Obviously, she wasn’t worried about a secret love nest somewhere. That told me a lot about their relationship and why she still grieved his death so deeply.

  “How much is not much?” I leaned over the counter, placing my linked hands on the hard surface.

  “Eight hundred thousand dollars total.”

  I wanted to whistle but refrained. It’d take me more than twenty years to even earn that kind of money, much less save it in an account.

  Shannon scrubbed a hand through his hair. “When were these withdrawals made?”

  “All within six months before his death. I tried tracing the accounts where the funds were transferred, but all they would tell me is that they’ve been closed.” Claire shifted her weight, her eyes capturing m
ine. “I’d like you to take a look at some of his things. I need to know if Bridger was into something questionable. Maybe that money is somehow connected to this lawsuit. I can’t go into this case blind. If it goes to trial, I’m going to have to play their game in the media, and anything that throws a suspicious light on my husband won’t help me in the end.” She paused before asking, “Will you do it?”

  “I’d like to try.” For the first time since losing my ability that morning, I was angry about it instead of sad and lost. Why had it vanished now when so many people needed me? Why not three weeks ago when all I had going on was a screwdriver Paige had discovered in connection with a non-violent robbery at an insurance office?

  The furrow in Claire’s forehead relaxed. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” She reached over the counter and touched my hands, her gold bracelet falling onto my skin.

  I stiffened, worried about a possible imprint, before remembering that I wouldn’t be able to read it. “It’s not a problem,” I said, my mouth feeling stuffed with cotton. “Besides, I owe you one for what you’re doing for Jazzy—Jessica.”

  A smile touched her lips. “No. I owe you for that. She’s exactly what I’ve needed. I don’t see my two kids much now that they’re grown and raising their own families. I always regretted not having another child, and now Jessica is that for me.” Her eyes were bright with unshed tears that showed her sincerity, though I knew for a fact that life with Jazzy these past five months hadn’t been all peaches and cream. “I only wish Bridger were here to help her. He was good with teenagers.”

  “So are you, apparently.”

  Claire patted my hands before finally withdrawing hers. “Her tutor thinks she’ll be able to go back to regular class if he works with her the rest of this month and then throughout the summer. It’s mostly getting her up to speed with reading and grammar. Math, too, but she’s almost there with that.” She laughed. “Maybe with luck, we’ll get rid of the blue hair.”