“He’s in the parlor.” That was what she called her formal sitting room, a name left over from her childhood in the south. “He tells me you’re on another case. Are you sure that’s wise?”
I gave her a half smile. “Not in the least, but doing something with my ability helps me control it a bit.” What I meant was that purposefully reading imprints helped me develop an instinct about where stray imprints might lurk before I touched them. That made accidental readings easier to avoid, though the accidental ones weren’t necessarily worse than planned ones, as Dennis’s phone imprint had proven today.
“That’s understandable.” We had reached the door to the parlor, but Marme stopped me before going in. “Look, you should know, he has a visitor,” she said quietly.
“He told me.”
“He went to high school with Kolonda. They were very close.” Her inflection told me their involvement had been more than a simple friendship. I met her gaze without voicing the questions in my heart. Jake loved me, and I loved him. That’s all I had to know.
Marme dipped her regal head and led me into the room. Jake was seated on the sofa, studying papers spread on the coffee table. Next to him was an attractive woman with black hair that fell around her face in gentle waves. Her skin was the color of rich, dark caramel, her large eyes a brown several shades lighter than Jake’s. She wore a happy, spring dress with a designer cut that advertised she had money to spare—not to mention a figure most women only dreamed of having.
I wanted to hate her immediately, but when Jake jumped up and gave me a kiss, she smiled. “You must be Autumn. I’m happy to meet you.”
Jake led me to the sofa. “Autumn, this is Kolanda Lewis. We went to high school together.”
Kolonda stood, and I shook her hand. “So Marme was telling me. Nice to meet you.”
“How’d it go?” Jake asked, a hand on my back. “With the detective, I mean. Was he as irritating as always?”
I thought of how Shannon had held me after I’d read the imprint on the phone. “Not quite, but then his partner was there most of the time to ward him off.”
“Did you find anything?”
“I think so.” My eyes slid to Kolonda. No way did I want to discuss this with her here. “I’ll tell you later.”
His strong hand caressed mine. “Bad, huh?”
I nodded.
“I’m sorry. I wish I’d been there.”
“Me too.” Then I wouldn’t have had to depend on Shannon.
During our exchange, Kolonda had seated herself again and picked up a paper from the coffee table. Unless I wanted to sit between her and Jake on the sofa, I’d have to take the chair. I chose the chair.
Jake hesitated before returning to his seat on the sofa next to Kolonda, his dark eyes troubled with my news.
“So what do you think?” Kolonda asked into the silence, apparently polite enough not to pry.
He turned his gaze back to her. “After reading this contract and hearing your story, I’m coming to the same conclusion you did. The work must have been shoddy, and this offer to buy your two apartment buildings instead of fixing them is definitely an attempt to get the properties.”
“The question is why,” Kolonda said. “It’s a convenient location, but the area’s a little rundown. It won’t make anyone rich. Anyway, I can’t sell my buildings. I need the rental income.”
Jake gave her a grin. “I guess a college teacher’s wage doesn’t do it these days.”
Kolonda wasn’t offended. “Daddy left me the apartments so I’d be taken care of, and I do admit the income allows me to pursue my love of teaching.”
“Uh, so what exactly is the problem?” I asked, not quite following the conversation. Why did I feel so unsettled? Kolonda seemed a perfectly nice person—not a woman out to reclaim her first love, if that indeed was what Jake was to her.
“Kolonda had some work done in the two apartment buildings we’re talking about,” Jake explained. “Less than a year later the ceilings collapsed in several of the units. There is considerable structural damage. Since the work Kolonda had done was to avoid this kind of thing, she suspects negligence on the part of the contractor.”
“But he won’t take responsibility,” Kolonda added, “and any other professional I’ve had look at the place refuses to back my suspicion. Officially, that is.” She snorted delicately. “It’s like they’re all afraid to say anything. Then I remembered that Jake spent a few years in construction and hoped he might be able to tell me what’s really going on. I don’t have money to repair the place again, and every day I’m losing money from the tenants I could have there.”
“And now the contractor is offering to buy the place?”
“Yes—at a very reduced price, of course, because of the damage.” Kolonda tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pushed the papers across the coffee table toward me. “This is the contract, if you want to read it.”
I wanted to read it, but not the way she was talking about. Taking a breath, I set my fingers on the papers. Jake’s eyes narrowed expectantly, but I shook my head. Whoever had prepared these papers either hadn’t cared about them or hadn’t handled them long enough for any imprints to remain. After the phone, the nothingness was almost a comfort.
Jake frowned. “I’d be glad to take a look at the buildings. I haven’t worked construction for a long time, but I might be able to tell if there was negligence or direct sabotage, and I still know a few people in the business. If I can’t give you an answer, I’ll find someone who can.”
“Thank you so much.” Kolonda reached out and set a small hand on Jake’s arm. “I really appreciate it. I know I have no right to come to you for help after the way Daddy treated you.”
Jake shrugged, giving me a decidedly uncomfortable glance. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
So her daddy hadn’t liked their relationship. Well, that made two of us.
“You don’t happen to have anything belonging to this contractor, do you?” I asked. “You know, a business card, something he left behind when you talked?” It was a long shot, but you never knew.
Kolonda started to shake her head but then nodded. “A pen. He gave me a pen to sign the contract. I told him of course that I wasn’t going to sign anything right then, but he didn’t listen.” She was rummaging in her small black purse now. “It was a fat one, engraved. I purposely didn’t give it back because I was mad.” She gave a wry, delicate snort. “He came to see me at my office, and I envisioned throwing it out the window at him as he left. Of course I couldn’t do it, not with all those impressionable freshman out there waiting to walk with me to class.”
I could imagine half her male students were in love with her and would jump at the opportunity to bask in her presence. Well, that was good for us because it meant she hadn’t thrown the pen. As I’d already proven with the pen Paige had shown me, writing instruments often held good imprints.
“Great. I don’t see it. Maybe I took it out.” Kolonda began emptying the contents of her purse onto the contract. A jeweled compact, not the disposable kind and obviously unusual, drew my attention. Of anything she had in her purse, that was most likely to contain imprints. I reached for it.
“Autumn?” Jake caught my eyes. He knew I didn’t touch things lightly, especially when I hadn’t remembered to put back on my antique rings.
I drew back my hand. He was right. I didn’t want to invade her privacy. “It’s a very pretty compact.”
Kolonda picked up the compact and pushed it into my hand. “My father gave it to me when I was sixteen. The jewels are real.”
She loved it. I felt it the minute my hand closed over the piece. And that wasn’t all she loved. I saw her determination to contact Jake, felt the fluttering of her heart as she checked her makeup in the compact before she saw him again after all these years.
Kolonda still cared for Jake.
An earlier imprint showed Kolonda clutching the compact and weeping as her father told her Jake would
never amount to anything. My heart wanted to break with hers. Older scenes followed, fading but still clear enough, especially when she’d used the compact in Jake’s presence. They had spent a lot of time together, and Kolonda had cared deeply for Jake. I could tell by his expression in the imprints that he’d felt the same way.
He’d looked at her the way he looked at me now.
Slowly and deliberately, I set the compact down. Jake leaned forward and caught my hand. “You okay?”
Did he notice the slight trembling? Probably. He was that careful of me.
“Your rings. Where are they?”
I fished them from the pocket of my camouflage pants, relieved when the comforting buzz blurred Kolonda’s imprints in my mind.
It’s not like I thought Jake had lived in a box before he met me. I’d known him over a year before we began dating last month, and he’d been one of my anchors when Winter died. Though the seed of attraction had always been there, I hadn’t loved him then as I did now. I’d dated other guys, and he’d dated as well. We’d often teased each other about our choice of dates—and how the relationships always ended in disaster. But despite all the women he’d dated, I hadn’t figured there was someone who’d once meant as much to him, possibly, as I did now.
“I guess I left it at my office,” Kolonda was saying. “Or maybe he took it after all. But why? Is it important?”
“I’ll let Jake explain,” I said, rising to my feet. “I’d better get back to my shop.”
Kolonda looked at Jake uncertainly. “You probably need to get back as well. I’m sorry about interrupting your day. I can arrange for you to look at the buildings another day, if it’s better.” Her gaze shifted to me, her reddened lips curving in a smile. “Jake’s changed so much. I never imagined he’d own an herb store or go back to college.”
So he’d told her about the classes, though he normally downplayed those. Was that significant? “Jake’s into a lot of things these days,” I said.
“I’m glad he’s gone back to school. Some things you really must learn in a classroom.”
I couldn’t think of one thing that wouldn’t be better learned by actually doing it, but I wasn’t about to argue with Kolonda, a woman whose life was teaching. Besides, finding hands-on opportunities wasn’t easy for working adults, much less for college kids, so in that respect even dull classes were better than no education at all. I had to agree with that. Besides, where Jake was concerned, I’d prefer Kolonda to be as far removed from hands-on experience as possible.
“It’s only a few botany courses,” Jake grumbled, moving closer to me. “Helps me with the herbs.”
I took Jake’s hand and squeezed it. “You coming?” I was considering leaving my car and riding back with him on his motor bike.
“Actually, I think I’ll zip on over to Kolonda’s building right now. She has the time, and we might as well get things rolling. Can you lock up for me if I’m not back in time?”
“Sure.” I gave him a quick kiss and made myself walk to the door. I had nothing to worry about. Jake was as reliable as a mountain.
“Oh,” Kolonda said, noticing my bare feet for the first time. “Were we supposed to take our shoes off at the door? I do that at my . . .” The words trailed off as her eyes landed on Jake’s work boots.
“No, I just don’t wear shoes.” I tossed the words over my shoulder, leaving Jake to explain that as well. “It was nice to meet you, Kolonda.”
“You too.” Her smile was genuine. If she was still in love with Jake, she must not know it yet or hadn’t dared admit it to herself. “I’ll come by tonight,” Jake called as I moved down the hallway.
Marme heard me and came from the kitchen, reaching the door before I did. “Take care of yourself,” she said, opening it for me.
“I will.” Mentally, I gave her an invitation to join Shannon and Jake’s Autumn Should Be Careful Club.
As I drove back to my store, I thought about Kolonda and what I’d learned. Whether she knew it or not, she was still in love with Jake, and he still cared a great deal for her or he wouldn’t have dropped everything on a Friday to check out her buildings.
No. I was overreacting. That was the kind of guy Jake was, always eager to help people, just as I liked to do by reading imprints. I refused to be jealous.
Well, maybe just a little.
Better to focus on my new case. I wanted to do everything possible to bring Dennis home to Sophie and the kids. I only hoped it wasn’t already too late.
Chapter 4
When I returned to Autumn’s Antiques, Thera Brinker had things well in hand. “It’s been really slow, I’m afraid,” she said, wiping her hands on her pants, the same sky blue color she normally wore. The color was calming, she’d explained, and she yearned for calm after all the excitement she’d endured with her deceased husband. On her ample chest she wore her favorite bulky, blue bead necklace. “But I did get a chance to reorganize the music boxes so the new ones will fit.”
“Wonderful.” They were my biggest seller these days.
“Is something wrong?” Thera had been my friend before she became my employee and a regular customer as well. She knew me better than anyone except Jake and Tawnia.
I explained about Sophie and Dennis and the imprints, and soon Thera was clucking over me, reminding me never to feel sorry for myself out loud again.
“Really, I’m fine.”
Thera nodded. “If you want, I can stay late and lock up for you.”
“No, you go ahead. I have a little restoration to do in the back.”
“Okay, then. I am looking forward to a hot bath and a nice evening in bed watching TV.”
Which sounded exactly like what I’d been doing the past few weeks as I healed from my adventures at the commune. The inactivity drove me insane, but I didn’t think my ribs were up to dancing quite yet.
I was stretching a delicate piece of fabric over an antique chair in my back room when my phone rang. Sighing, I let the material go. I wasn’t exactly doing a great job on the reupholstering anyway. I’d refinished my Victorian couches at home and read three books on the subject, but the chair’s oddly curved shape presented a challenge. Perhaps taking a class to learn how to do it would be a good idea. Score one for Kolonda and her formal education crusade.
“Hello?” I said into my phone.
“I’ve got news,” Paige said. I could hear a vague rumble of voices in the background, so she was probably at the precinct. “A murder did take place at that address you gave us but not here in Oregon or in Missouri where Dennis is supposedly from.”
“Where then?”
“Try Michigan. And it might be related to organized crime—namely, the Franco family. The police have been suspicious about them for years. Bartolomeo Franco was the man killed that night. What’s more, a man named Alex Trogan witnessed the murder and called 911. The police showed up in time to place him in protective custody, but after a few months in hiding he went missing and never testified. They assumed he’d been found and murdered.”
“Oh, wow.”
“Right. My thought exactly. Shannon’s ordered an entire background check on Dennis. He’s wondering if maybe Alex and Dennis are one and the same and that he went underground with a fake identity instead of being caught by those wanting to stop him from testifying.”
“Do they have a picture of this Alex?”
“Yeah, but it’s old and not very good. Could be Dennis. Maybe the call you saw him make in the imprint was to 911.”
“No, I don’t think so. He knew the man he called.”
“Well, you’ve said yourself that imprints don’t record exact happenings, just the person’s emotions and impressions of the event, so there might be several interpretations.”
“I suppose.” I didn’t like my words thrown back at me. Sometimes Paige had too good a memory.
“If Dennis did witness that murder, it could be a huge break for Michigan police.”
“Funny, I never thought of
Michigan as a center for organized crime.” I tucked my phone between my ear and shoulder and picked up the fabric for my chair again.
“Organized crime is everywhere.”
“I’m glad you’re looking into it. Sophie doesn’t deserve this, and those kids need a dad.”
“Hopefully we’ll find something in Dennis’s office that will lead us to him. We’re going over there now.”
“Good.” But what if the clue was an imprint they couldn’t see? “I don’t suppose Shannon wants me along.” I twisted a section of material to see if that might be the look I was aiming for.
“No.”
“Big surprise there.”
“He’s really not so bad once you get to know him.”
“I know him well enough. Believe me.”
She laughed. “Well, it beats working with a lot of these guys. He doesn’t make comments about what I wear or brag about his conquests. He’s respectful of my ideas, and he’s about given up trying to force me to like pasta. Deep down he’s a nice guy. For what it’s worth, when you were hurt last month, he had a hard time with it. He blamed himself.”
He could get in line behind Jake. And Tawnia too. She’d never let me forget how I’d almost gotten myself buried alive and shot. If Sophie hadn’t been her friend, she would never have wanted me to read Dennis’s imprints.
“I make my own choices. Shannon had nothing to do with that commune.”
“I know. Look, I gotta go. Shannon’s giving me the evil eye. I’ll stay in touch.”
“Thanks.” I hung up and stared into space for a long while until I felt the invisible connection I always experienced with my sister grow thick and close. Throwing down my fabric, I stood up as she waltzed into my back room, beaming and happy.
She hugged me. “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for Sophie. She was a lot more positive when I talked to her a little while ago.”
Her words brought back the memory of the imprint on Dennis’s old phone. Death. Fear. I smiled wearily. “I’m glad.”
“That bad, huh?”
On the Hunt Page 5
