Blinded

by Teyla Branton

  “Don’t hold your breath.” I grinned, but I was having trouble focusing. There seemed to be two of her now.

  Shannon drew out his phone. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to look into your husband’s old employers. What did you say the firm was called?”

  “McGregor and Clancy.”

  “Would you mind giving us the other particulars? My partner has a way of finding information that no one else can, and since you two are acquaintances, you can be sure she’ll be discreet.”

  “I was going to talk to Paige anyway—after Autumn checked out my husband’s belongings. I was hoping something there would give Paige enough to go on.”

  “Why don’t you email the information to her as soon as possible?” Shannon asked. “She can at least begin tracing the banks.”

  I rubbed my aching temples. I knew Shannon was involving the police department as much from his feeling of duty toward Jazzy as for the suspicious circumstances and Claire’s connection with Paige. I was glad he felt responsibility toward Jazzy because I’d vowed to make sure that none of the girls we’d saved got lost in the system.

  “Autumn?” Shannon’s hand was on my back. “You okay?”

  I nodded carefully because my headache was quickly becoming a raging inferno behind my eyes.

  Claire frowned. “Jessica called and told me something about you having to go to the doctor. I probably shouldn’t have come to see you today.”

  “That’s okay. It’s just a headache.”

  Claire pulled out a card. “You have my contact information, but here it is again just in case. Call me when you’d like to, uh, see Bridger’s things. Next week is fine. Or whenever you feel better.”

  I took the card, plastering on my face what I hoped was an encouraging smile. I knew what it had taken her to ask me for help. Her need to know had overcome her desire for privacy, and though I’d never tell another soul about the personal, irrelevant imprints I would also find at her house, the way I saw and felt about her would probably change because of what I would experience there.

  “We need to get you home.” Shannon helped me from the stool as Claire exited the door.

  I locked the day’s meager proceeds in the safe Shannon had installed under the counter for my new pistol, this time a Kahr .380. It lay on a black velvet surface, the metal barrel shining brightly in contrast to the black of the grip. Aware of Shannon watching, I picked up the holster lying next to the Kahr, clipped it on the waistband of my jeans near my back, slipped the gun inside, and pulled my fitted blouse over it. Not as good a concealment as with a heavier shirt, but I’d put a jacket over it.

  I was not wearing the gun because I was afraid.

  “You should have taken that to Hamilton’s.” Shannon was smiling at me, and I knew he was pleased. Maybe he felt his shooting lessons weren’t wasted. Since I wasn’t shooting any better than I had the first time we’d gone—I’d hit the paper man in the heart so many times that I’d shredded the paper—I wasn’t sure how he could take credit, but I did feel slightly more comfortable carrying the gun these days, which wasn’t saying much.

  “Maybe next time.” I didn’t point out that with all the dizziness, I was probably more of a danger to myself with the gun than to anyone else.

  As we walked to the outside door, I glanced at Jake’s place through the now-closed double glass doors that connected our shops. Still a lot of customers there. I wondered if Jake was with Kolonda and if he was having a good time.

  Shannon frowned at my gaze, misinterpreting my thoughts. “You want to say goodbye to him?”

  I shook my head. “He’s out on a date—I think.”

  Shannon stepped closer, leaning over slightly until our lips were only inches apart. “Are you okay with that?” I knew that wasn’t what he was really asking.

  “Of course.” I felt his nearness acutely, and I couldn’t help bringing up a hand to cup his neck, pulling him toward me until our lips met. He deepened the kiss, sending a shot of adrenaline to my body. I felt completely alive this close to him. Almost, I could forget my loss.

  Almost.

  Reluctantly I broke away to turn on the alarm and motion detectors.

  Though it was after six, it was still light outside, signaling the coming of summer. Shannon led me to his blue truck, helping me carefully inside before climbing in himself. I wondered if I looked fragile to him. I did rather feel that way.

  “What was Ace doing here anyway?” he asked, bringing the engine to life.

  “Keeping an eye on me, I think.”

  “For Russo?”

  I fingered the mother-of-pearl on the music box. “Who else?”

  “After what happened last time, Ace told me he’d never work for the man again. Apparently Russo doesn’t pay failures, and Ace almost getting killed was a big failure. I’d think Russo would have to be paying him a lot to get him to change his mind.”

  I snorted. “Or maybe Ace got some money up front this time. I would insist on it if I were him.”

  “Well, if I know one thing about Ace, it’s that he’ll do anything for money. The grapevine has it that he hasn’t been getting many paying jobs these days, so I’m not surprised he’s back to working for Russo.” A pause and then, “Did Ace ask you to go in business with him?” The words were so casual, I wouldn’t have understood their significance if I hadn’t known what Shannon had already lost.

  “Yeah, but I said no, of course.”

  Shannon swore, a short, explosive sound. “That guy needs a new profession.”

  We stopped for Chinese takeout from a semi-organic restaurant I frequented that didn’t mind making my food a bit differently. Minutes later, as we walked from his truck to my apartment building, a man in worn jeans and a black T-shirt caught my eye, emerging suddenly from the shadows cast by the trees lining the sidewalk. His back was toward me now as he headed away, but I had the strange sense that he’d been watching us.

  Silly. Though understandable after what I’d been through that day.

  I clutched the music box in my hands and squinted after him. His hair reached his collar and I could see a healthy amount of facial hair that told me he was either growing a beard or he hadn’t shaved in a while. He was on the tall side but had only a medium build, nothing really to call my attention—except perhaps the purpose with which he walked.

  What had he been doing lurking around the parking lot? And why did he seem familiar? Maybe if I could glimpse his face.

  “Autumn?” Shannon opened the door to my building. He had a set of keys like all my friends and half my neighbors. I was forever shutting myself out and forgetting where I’d put them.

  I glanced behind me as the man disappeared, seeming to bleed into the distance. “Coming.”

  Shannon strode inside the lobby, but as he neared the door to my bottom floor apartment, he pulled out his 9 mil, holding up his other hand to warn me to stop.

  I froze.

  Chapter 9

  Time seemed to slow as my senses kicked into alert. Flesh tingling with readiness, I moved carefully, peeking around the corner to see what had alarmed Shannon. The outside door to my apartment was slightly ajar. It stuck that way sometimes when I was in a hurry, and I only caught it when I locked up.

  Except I was sure I’d locked the door this morning, and since Shannon had picked me up for the estate sale, he’d watched me do it.

  Shannon motioned me back as he pushed open the door and edged into my apartment. I went after him. I didn’t have a death wish or anything, but he was alone and this was my apartment. If he needed backup, well, I wasn’t Paige, but I’d do what I could.

  It was almost a letdown when Shannon searched the kitchen, bath, and two bedrooms, only to come up empty. There was no sign anyone had been inside. I had shut and locked the door, hadn’t I? Maybe one of my neighbors had returned something, or maybe Jake had stopped by for the extra helmet to his bike or whatever else he’d left here over the years we’d been friends. With Shannon gone undercover
, Jake and I’d spent more time together, mostly watching movies with a few friends. Once we’d gone out dancing.

  That’s it, I decided. Jake stopped by. Probably wanted the helmet to take Kolonda for a spin on his bike.

  Or maybe the man in the worn jeans had somehow made it past my locks. But what motive could he possibly have? I groaned at my irrationality. The man hadn’t been in my apartment, he hadn’t been watching me, and I definitely wasn’t about to reveal my paranoia by telling Shannon about him.

  Weariness settled over me as I unwrapped my clenched fingers from around the wood of the music box and set it on the coffee table. With a nod at Shannon, I forced myself to the bathroom for a quick hot shower and a rubdown with a homemade comfrey and arnica liniment to help ease my sore muscles and prevent more bruising. After dressing in a pair of army green sweats and an orange T-shirt, I joined Shannon on my Victorian couch, where he’d dug into his boxes of takeout. I sat next to him, wishing I could pull Summer’s afghan over me so I could feel her imprints, but I had enough imprint-carrying antiques stuffed into my tiny apartment to know that my talent hadn’t yet resurfaced.

  Shannon frowned as he handed over a box of takeout. “I saw you lock the door this morning. You pulled it shut. I remember that.”

  I was already so far beyond the fact of the open door that his comment took a moment to register. “Jake must have stopped by for something. You know how that door is.” Not broken exactly, just a little stiff.

  “I guess.” He took a bite of sesame chicken.

  He’d bought noodles for himself and rice to go with my meal, but I wasn’t really hungry. That added to my worry. My sister and I were both infamous for our huge appetites, and eating always helped me recover. Tonight I’d asked for extra beef, because protein revitalized me better than anything else, so I was determined to see if it helped. I forced the first mouthful down.

  Gradually, the dizziness that had been my semi-constant companion since that morning lessened and my eyelids began to feel heavy. The next thing I knew, someone was carrying me to bed. Though I knew it must be Shannon, I was taken back in time to after Summer’s death when Winter and I would watch television so late that he’d have to carry me. At age eleven, I’d already gained most of my height, but he hadn’t seemed to mind. Those had been good times, even though we both mourned Summer.

  Laying me on the bed, Shannon smoothed my short hair and kissed my forehead. “Sleep,” he murmured. I wanted to cling to him, but my limbs wouldn’t obey. Darkness called to me, enticing as any warm embrace. I felt comfortable and safe. I knew Shannon wouldn’t be leaving, that he’d stay with his gun handy to protect me.

  Wait. Isn’t there something I need to tell him?

  Drifting. I heard voices from far away and figured Shannon was watching television. Or maybe he’d called Paige so he wouldn’t have to stake out my apartment alone.

  Had someone other than Jake been in my apartment that day?

  Dreams filled my head. Dreams of Shannon. Of the passion in his kisses. His arms holding me. In the dream, I wasn’t blind or missing anything. Shannon’s grip tightened.

  Abruptly, it was hard to breathe. Not because of his nearness, but because of how snug his arms felt. Because of how they widened and thinned until they became a rug rolled around my body, smothering me and cutting off everything.

  I waited for the feet and then yanked the rug.

  Crash. Tilting inside the rug. Hitting something hard. Unable to breathe. My chest constricting.

  The feet . . . pulling the rug.

  JoAnna’s feet crushing the ants.

  Shannon’s arms squeezing tighter.

  A scream ripped from my throat. I sat up in bed, my heart pounding. The room was completely dark, except for thin moonlight streaming through the bedroom window. My shelves, stuffed with antique toys, books, and music boxes made familiar comforting shadows in the darkness, but still my heart throbbed.

  Footsteps reverberated through the apartment. The door to my room flew open. “Autumn?”

  I relaxed as I heard Shannon’s voice.

  The room flooded with light, and through squinting eyes, I saw him checking all the corners. Finding nothing, he hurried to my side. I was about to tell him it was a dream when more footsteps stilled my tongue.

  I blinked at the newcomer. “Cody?”

  White hair askew, Cody rubbed sleep from his eyes, his weathered face showing in that instant every one of his sixty-six years. “What happened?”

  “Just a dream. What are you doing here?”

  Shannon put his arms around me, bringing back memories of suffocation. I tried not to pull away.

  Cody shrugged. “I came a couple hours ago. Thought you might need me.” Uncertainty had crept into his words. For the first time, I noticed he wore gray pajama pants, the end of a belt sticking out awkwardly from under a dingy white T-shirt. A belt with flannel pants? He didn’t look like a man who owned a hundred acres or invested in real estate, and whose massive art sculptures sold as fast as he could create them. Apparently, he came prepared to stay at least this night because his customary jeans were missing.

  “He keeps saying that,” Shannon said. “I told him I’d keep you safe.”

  “No, I meant with the imprints.” Cody shifted uneasily.

  Shannon cocked a brow. “What’s he talking about?”

  “Did your ability come back then?” Cody asked. “I guess I should have called before coming.”

  “No,” I said softly, “it didn’t.”

  I turned in the bed, and Shannon’s arm fell away. My teeth closed over my bottom lip in an effort to keep my voice steady. “Look, I’ve been meaning to tell you—it seems after what happened this morning . . . I—I can’t read imprints.”

  Shannon stared at me for a full thirty seconds before erupting. “And only now you decide to tell me this? If you can’t read imprints, why on earth did you go see JoAnna Hamilton?”

  I bristled at the lack of sympathy in his voice. Jake and Tawnia had at least felt sorry for me and had tried to understand my loss. I bit down on my hurt. “I was going to tell you earlier when Claire Philpot came to the shop. But reading imprints is not my only asset, and I need to find out why Russo’s contract is so important. That’s why I went to see Hamilton.” My icy tone told him what I did was none of his business. I knew he’d remember it from our early days.

  “You should let the police do that. You should let me do that.”

  I glared at him. “Are we back to that again? I was with the police when I was abducted this morning, remember? Look, I’m tired and disoriented, and I need to sleep. Maybe you should leave.” It wasn’t like Shannon to try to limit what I did. I mean, not since we’d fallen in love. What was his problem?

  He scowled. “I’m not going anywhere until I know who’s out to get you. With Russo and Hamilton involved and billions of dollars at stake with this nanotechnology, there’s too much going on.”

  “Well, then do your watching somewhere else. I need to sleep.”

  “See that you do.” Shannon jumped up and stalked from the room.

  I didn’t really want him to leave. I wanted him to take me in his arms and apologize. I wanted him to say he loved me despite the loss of my ability. I wanted him to tell me it would be okay. My eyes followed him out the door, only to land on Cody, who’d pasted a sardonic grin on his face.

  “I’d say it’s love,” he said.

  “Shut up.”

  “He’s just worried about you. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t be.”

  “Are you kidding? He’s always acted this way.” Even way back in the beginning when he’d fought his attraction to the barefoot weirdo who claimed to read imprints. “He’s been a lot better lately. I thought he trusted me more.”

  “He has a right to be worried. You almost burned to death. That kind of thing changes a man.”

  “Is that why you’re here?”

  “I thought you might need me.”

  This
from the man who hadn’t known I existed until five months ago. Did he think that coming to my rescue now was fulfilling his biological duty? No matter how he tried, he couldn’t take Winter’s place.

  Cody sighed and limped over to the foot of my bed, plopping himself down without an invitation. The injury wasn’t one left over from the gunshot wound he’d received during my last case, and I wondered what had happened.

  “I figured I can go with you,” he said. This close, I could more clearly see his eyes, one blue and one hazel. Like mine and Tawnia’s. “I can touch whatever you want and tell you what the imprint is.”

  “That’s the stupidest—” I broke off.

  Actually, it was a good idea, provided Russo and anyone else would go for it. But if Russo found out about Cody, his freedom would be in jeopardy. Did he know that? Of course he did. He’d lived a long time, dealt too often with imprints not to understand the implications.

  A lump formed in my throat because though I’d forgiven him for the past, I didn’t know that I would take the same risk for him if our situations were reversed.

  “What happened to your leg?” I asked, buying time.

  He looked ruefully down at it. “Fell off a stack when I was finishing up a couple days ago. Doesn’t hurt much now.”

  “Did you go to the doctor?”

  “Did you?” he asked.

  I couldn’t help my grin. “A nurse.”

  He snorted. “I’m fine.” He leaned forward and heaved himself to his feet, but not before I saw the bulge of a pistol in a holster. That explained the belt at least.

  My eyes strayed to the closet where I’d placed my Kahr on the top shelf.

  “Anyway, let me know if you want me to read something,” Cody said. “I was free this weekend anyway.”

  “I think Tawnia was going to drive down sometime to see your sculpture.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe on Sunday.” Without another word, he limped toward the door. “Hope you don’t mind. I crashed out in your other room.”