A touch of love

by Conn, Phoebe

  Aubrey adopted a forced calm. "You don't regard what we're doing as dangerous? After all, there have been people who've been so traumatized by witnessing the horror of death in an accident or wartime that they've never recovered. Now I'm willing to push whatever ability I might possess to the limit to pay Caine back for trying to kill us, but that doesn't mean I'm discounting the risk."

  Ashamed that he had, Jesse apologized. "I'm sorry. You've gotten sick twice on my account and I'd not even considered that what you might find today could be a whole lot worse. I sure hope it isn't, but I should have considered it. You have every right to be nervous. I'm sorry I complained about the noise of your nails."

  Aubrey reached over to grasp his thigh and felt his muscles tense beneath her touch. It quickly brought to mind how much she had enjoyed being with him last night. More than enjoyed, really, but she was at a loss for the correct superlative. "Hush. For all we know, I might not sense anything, and this trip will be a total waste of our time."

  An Alan Jackson tune came on the radio and Jesse turned up the volume slightly. Women had told him that he resembled the tall, blond singer, but Jesse couldn't see it. 'Til stay with you," he promised. ''I should have thought to bring a tape recorder. Then even if the police won't accept your impressions as evidence, you wouldn't have to repeat them endlessly."

  Aubrey leaned down and rummaged through the purse she'd set between her feet. In a moment, she withdrew a palm-sized tape recorder. "I grabbed this from my office on the way out. I don't use it anymore because Gardner is always there to record my sessions, but I thought using it would be easier than relying on memory."

  "Have I ever mentioned how much I admire your intelligence?"

  "I believe that was one of the few things you overlooked last night."

  Jesse winked at her. "Then I'll be sure to mention it tonight."

  Aubrey hoped she would feel up to making love again, then rushed to distract herself from the possibility that she might not. "When I was growing up, I'd often guess what a gift contained before I'd unwrapped it. It was merely a game, but I was usually right. Of course, the size of the box limited the possibilities and was in itself a strong clue. I got so good at it I finally had to stop announcing my guess because whoever had given me the present would be disappointed that it wasn't a surprise."

  "If that's the case, then I was wrong aboutyour acquiring the ability to sense information. You've always possessed the talent."

  "Yes, but without positive reinforcement, I didn't pursue it. Now it seems a shame. Then again, perhaps I'm making too much of it."

  The wistful lilt to her voice stirred Jesse's conscience,

  but they were in too deep to simply turn around and go home. He reminded himself that they weren't safe even there with Harlan Caine's sinister intentions—if it really was Harlan Caine who was the culprit. If he wasn't, then Jesse would be at a complete loss for what to do.

  By the time they reached the Ferrells' home, Aubrey was eager to get the ordeal over with. She bounded out of the truck without waiting for Jesse to help her and then remembered the woman who lived next door. "Roberta Smaus called the newspaper the last time we were here and that visit was more innocent than this. Do we dare alert her to our presence again?"

  Jesse took hold of Aubrey's arm as they moved through the gate. "No. There's nothing illegal about our being here and I don't want to provide anyone with more photo opportunities. Let's hope we can come and go today without causing a ripple of notice."

  "Stay with me," Aubrey urged.

  "Don't worry. I won't stray." Jesse had the key ready when they reached the front door.

  They had come through the service porch on their first visit, and Aubrey paused in the entryway. The house was chilly despite the warmth of the day, and the air uncomfortably still. She swallowed hard, and pressed the button to start the tape recorder. "The house seems undisturbed since we were here on Sunday. Because Marlene meant to boil water for spaghetti, I'd like to begin in the kitchen."

  The family room was on the left, but Aubrey walked right through it to reach the kitchen. Only a cooking island separated the two rooms, and while the family room's furnishings were draped with sheets, she could easily envision Marlene working in the kitchen and talking with her sons while they were doing their homework in the adjoining room. "Let's uncover everything, so we can see it exactly as it was the last time the Ferrells were here."

  "Makes sense to me," Jesse agreed, and he began pulling the sheets from the comfortably worn maple sofa, chairs, and low coffee table. The television set was recessed into a wall unit, but it had also been covered, and he pulled away the sheet. Not really knowing what to do with the bundle of linens, he carried them out into the entryway and dropped them on the glossy tile.

  Aubrey stood at the stove, set down the tape recorder, and then gingerly rested her hands on the counter. "I don't feel anything yet," she revealed sofdy. "Give me a minute or two."

  "Take all the time you need."

  Aubrey closed her eyes. On Sunday, she had not merely been apprehensive about the wisdom of their mission, but angry with Jesse for kissing her. She had been horribly uncomfortable, but now she wondered if she hadn't been reacting to her own foul mood rather than responding to any possible distress the Ferrells might have suffered.

  She took a deep breath and released it slowly. Perfecdy relaxed, she welcomed whatever sensation might come, but when the wait grew tiresome, she looked up at Jesse. "I don't feel anything, but let's tour the whole house, and maybe something will strike me." She picked up the tape recorder.

  Jesse preceded her into the dining area at the end of the formal living room and again whisked the sheets from the furniture. The house was decorated throughout in a cozy Early American style with braided rugs and a liberal use of maple and tiny prints in shades of wine and blue. Marlene had loved to needlepoint, and there were attractive examples of her work on decorative pillows heaped on the sofa. Currier and Ives prints were featured on the walls, along with Aububon's magnificent birds.

  "It looks as though there was a great deal of love here." Audrey picked up a handcrafted pillow from the sofa and

  pressed it to her chest. "Perhaps that's what's lingered here, Jesse, rather than the frightful evening they all disappeared."

  Jesse felt only the chill, and wished he had worn his jacket. "Are you cold?"

  "A little, but it's all right." Aubrey replaced the pillow with a gentle pat, then turned toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. She spoke clearly into the small tape recorder. "I'm facing the wing with the bedrooms. This is as far as I went the last time."

  "I remember." Jesse kept his distance so as not to difr-tract her. "Marlene's and Pete's room is to the left. The boys' rooms are on your right."

  Aubrey entered the master bedroom and helped Jesse remove the sheets covering the bed and dresser. Photographs of the family had been displayed on the dresser, but were now turned face down. She set the tape recorder down again and reached for the first frame. When she turned it over, she found two giggling infants in sailor suits. Her eyes flooded with tears, and she quickly replaced the photo on the dresser.

  "I'm sorry, but I can't look at the other photographs. It's simply too sad." She crossed to the bed and sat down on the quilted spread. "There are people who die in natural disasters, or plane crashes, and random accidents wipe out entire families in an instant, but this crime is almost beyond imagining."

  Seated with her shoulders slumped, Aubrey projected such an anguished mood Jesse couldn't bear it. "Come on. Let's get out of here. I can see what this is doing to you, and it just isn't worth it." He unfurled the sheet he had pulled from the dresser and hastily recovered it.

  "What's a few minutes of discomfort compared to what the Ferrells suffered, or what Caine tried to do to us?"

  Here's a special offer 3yfor Zebra Historical ^& Romance Readers!

  QET4

  HISTORICAL

  ROMANCE

  NOVELS />
  Pa.

  as Aon, adventure and hoard of pleasure delivered right to your doorstep!

  HERE'S A SPECIAL INVITATION TO ENJOY TODAYS FINEST HISTORICAL ROMANCES— ABSOLUTELY FREE! r« $i** -***)

  io\ vol

  :a KomaiKO:

  Subscription Service. Zebra Home Subscription Serv following benefits that vou dont want to miss:

  4 BRAND NEW bestselling Zebra Lovegram Historical Romances delivered to your doorstep each month (usually before they're available in the bookstores!)

  • 20% off each title or a savings of almost $4.00 each month

  • FREE home delivery

  • A FREE monthly newsletter, ZebraJVuinack Romance New that features author profiles, contests, special member benefits, book previews and more

  • No risks or obligations...in other words you can cancel whenever you wish with no questions asked

  hundreds ol thousands or readers who already oelo bra Home Subscription Service and enjoy the very best I finances Thai Burn With The Fire oi History!

  And I'onu

  here is no minimum purchase req

  ve enjoyed vour in

  package ol H nooks, voi

  nthiv shipments or new /,«

  left shipment will he

  >av the preferred su

  Slo for all 4 books with FREE home delivery! >"< H VOU want us to

  p sending hooks, lust say the word....it:

  Its a no-lose proposition, so send for your 4 FREE books today!

  4 FREE BOOKS

  These books worth almost $20, are yours without cost or obligation

  when you fill out and mail this certificate.

  (If the certificate id mbding below, write to: Zebra Home Subscription Service, Inc.,

  120Brighton Road, P.O. Box 52 H Clifton, New Jersey 07015-5214)

  » ^ i. g % ft.^

  I

  o

  O Z

  m O

  m nj o

 

  O

  g

  g

  pa W

  So > z

  w

  i

  ii il il

  "Enough," Jesse ordered. 'There has to be another way."

  "If there was, the police would have found it." Aubrey picked up the tape recorder as she swept by Jesse and went on down the hallway to the boys' bedrooms. She walked into the first, and held her breath, but like the rest of the house, her only impression was one of immense sorrow. She tarried only a minute in the second bedroom, and then turned to find Jesse waiting at the doorway.

  "Nothing?" he asked.

  Aubrey's brow furrowed slighdy with concentration. "There's definitely a presence here, but it's merely a mist of sadness. It's as though the house knows it's empty and misses the Ferrells." Aubrey shut off the recorder. "Perhaps I'm romanticizing things, or projecting my own emotions into this."

  Jesse had never wanted to hold a woman more to simply offer the comfort of his presence rather than sex, but the chill of the house was giving him the creeps, and he wanted to leave. "I've walked through the house several times, but if it's holding any clues, neither the police nor I could find them."

  A math book was open on the desk, and Aubrey laid her hand on it, but felt only the cool slickness of the paper rather than the happy noise of a classroom. "The police have a substance in a spray that can detect the presence of blood even after it's been washed away. I saw it in a TV movie once, and the effect was stunning. Did they try it here?"

  "I believe it's called luminol, and yes. It was used here, with absolutely no result. But there are plenty of ways to kill people without splattering the walls with blood."

  "That's a pleasant thought." The chill had begun to sink into Aubrey's bones, and she rubbed her arms briskly. "Come on. Let's cover the furniture and go."

  They completed the chore quickly, but as Aubrey made a final pass through the kitchen, she glanced out the window at the double car garage. "Let's go out the backdoor and check the garage."

  Jesse felt as though he had already asked too much and reluctantly followed her outside. He was suffering from a strange combination of disappointment and relief, and was anxious to go. The garage was padlocked, but he sorted through the keys his aunt had given him and found one to unlock it. He then moved to the center, grabbed the handle, and raised the heavy wooden door. Two cars were parked inside, a silver Toyota van and a white Chevrolet Camaro.

  "How many cars did your cousins own?" Aubrey asked.

  "Just these two, which made the police's insistence that they'd probably skipped town all the more absurd. They checked the records of the taxi companies and airport vans, and none had made a pickup here. There were no airline nor bus reservations in their names.

  "Their disappearance wouldn't have been noted as quickly as it was had there not been a PTA meeting that night. When Marlene didn't show up, one of her friends came by and saw all the lights on, but no one answered the door. When the boys didn't arrive at school the next day, she was so worried she called the police, but there's been no progress from that day to this."

  "I'm sorry I couldn't find anything."

  "You needn't apologize."

  Aubrey had hoped to sense or find something others had overlooked, and hated to walk away without making every effort to do so. She took a step into the garage and shivered, but it was no longer due to the chill of the air. She closed her eyes, and after a moment, an eerie wail coiled through her mind. Something awful had happened

  there, and the memory still mingled with the dust motes floating in the air.

  She turned and reached out for Jesse. "Come stand here beside me and tell me what you feel. I swear I can hear the silent screams you heard at Andersonville. Can you?"

  Jesse came forward and gripped her hand tightly. He closed his eyes in an effort to suppress the background noise from the neighborhood. There was the annoying whine of a leafblower as a gardener cleaned up a yard, and farther up the street a dog was barking out low, lazy howls.

  The well-tended landscape at Andersonville had been silent save for the chirping of the birds, and surrounded by acres of low grave markers, Jesse had been immersed in the site's former horror. The sorrow there had rolled up against him in waves, but here, he had to fight all the outside distractions to touch what couldn't be seen. He deepened his breathing, coaxing the presence forth, and just as he was about to give up the attempt as futile, he heard it, too.

  Tears instantly flooded his eyes. "It's Marlene. She's begging them not to take the boys. Oh, God." What Jesse felt then was a sorrow so intense he could barely remain on his feet, and had Aubrey not pulled him back out onto the sunlit driveway, he surely would have collapsed. Badly embarrassed to have cried in front of her, he hastily wiped away his tears, then bent over and rested his hands on his knees while he struggled to catch his breath.

  "I told you the power was in you, Jesse, but you didn't believe me. Maybe we each have only a particle of what it takes to function as a psychic, but together, it's enough for brief flashes of insight."

  When Jesse straightened up, he felt drained, as though he had aged ten years in a matter of minutes while Aubrey

  was as cool and composed as she was during her seminars. 4 Just what did you hear?"

  ''Merely an anguished cry. You're the one who identified the source, and understood the plea. We are dealing with monsters here, Jesse, and their own arrogance will be their undoing."

  She projected a confidence Jesse envied, and he quickly closed the garage, then looped his arm around her shoulders as they walked to his truck. "Let's just go home and rest this afternoon. I don't know what to do next, but maybe something will occur to us tomorrow."

  Aubrey had already volunteered to be bait, but Jesse was far too upset to remind him of that now. "Would you like me to drive?"

  "Are you kidding? Hell, no. I'm not that shaken up." But Jesse couldn't recall another instance when he had felt so emotionally drained. He gave Aubrey's bottom a
playful swat as she climbed up into the Chevy's cab, and then quickly circled around to the driver's side. As he unlocked his door, an engine's low rumble caught his attention and he glanced up in time to see a gold Corvette swing around the corner.

  He yanked open his door, and leaped in. "Did you see that?"

  "What?" Aubrey had been touching up her lipstick.

  Jesse slammed the truck into gear and peeled away from the curb. "There was a gold Corvette parked up the street and that can't have been a coincidence."

  "We're being followed?"

  Jesse didn't respond, he just turned the first corner as sharply as he could and the next in a skidding slide. "If he beats us back to the freeway, we'll never catch him." He swore under his breath, but when they left the subdivision and turned out onto the thoroughfare, the Corvette

  A TOUCH OF LOVE 181

  was nowhere in sight. Jesse swore a bitter oath. "We've lost him."

  "I should have been more alert."

  "It's not your fault. At least we know that as long as whoever's following us stays close, he can't have tampered with anything at your home."

  "That's some consolation," Aubrey mused, but she kept a close watch on the adjoining lanes as they drove back toward Pasadena. When they got home, she didn't argue with Jesse when he insisted upon going inside first, but as soon as he motioned for her to enter, she pulled a box of Pillsbury Lemon Cheesecake Bars from the cupboard and tied on an apron.

  "You're going to cook?" Jesse asked incredulously.

  "Yes. It's marvelous therapy. Besides these are delicious and I'm hungry. What about you?"

  "Yeah. I could do with some lunch. Shall we steam up a bucket of squash?"

  Aubrey was already greasing a retangular baking pan. "I've a can of tuna. I'll make sandwiches. "Just give me a minute to get the lemon bars in the oven."

  "I can mix up a can of tuna," Jesse insisted. "I wouldn't have survived this long if I couldn't cook the basics."