“Oh, please,” he said, scoffing at the notion, “you obviously haven’t been out with anyone other than an overgrown frat boy in a long time.”
She twined her fingers in her lap, looking down at them. “I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. Not in any way, shape, or form.”
He got the message. Found it hard to believe, given how vibrant and beautiful she was, but was also grateful she was completely free and unencumbered now. Free to explore with him, help him recall all he’d been missing about a normal life.
Clearing her throat, she changed the subject. “As much as I enjoy flirting with you and taking advantage of the fact that you think I’m a little high on meds, we do have other things to discuss.”
“I know,” he said, knowing there would be moments to look forward to later, when this pall wasn’t hanging over them, and the town. “Whose address did you want from your boss?”
“The friend of Walter’s who found the bones. He told me the guy lived out on Old Terrytown Road, and I got to thinking about what those prostitutes said.”
He almost skidded right through a stop sign at that one. Prostitutes? They hadn’t even talked about that part of her adventure. He could only shake his head, wondering if she was always so ballsy. He liked that about her, but it also scared the hell out of him. “Maybe you should back up a little and tell me everything that happened today.”
She did, quickly and concisely, that husky tone making her day sound like an adventure.
Yeah. If only it hadn’t ended with her getting brutalized by a thug.
The only time she showed any emotion was when she spoke of the fear and plight of the teenage girls, but even then she was able to focus on the information they’d provided rather than what might be done about them and others like them. There was nothing spacey or woozy about her. She hadn’t been kidding about the medication; she was entirely sharp, focused, on.
“And they said a lot of local girls—including Jessie Leonard—went out to be ‘entertainment’ at this mysterious club?” he asked.
“Yes. One said it’s out in a big, falling-down house in the country. I got to thinking about those remains Walter’s friend found. Terrytown Road’s an old plantation route that winds out toward the ass end of nowhere. There are a number of abandoned houses near it.”
He had to admire her quick thinking. “It’s possible these human remains came from near one of those old places.”
“Yes. Find out who the victim is, and who belongs to the club, and maybe we’ll be able to narrow in on Vonnie’s location.”
It made excellent sense and was a strong lead. So he didn’t even take the time to caution her about her hopes for finding Vonnie alive after five days.
Nor did he reveal that he’d tried again to reach out to the girl, sending his thoughts soaring over Granville before he’d come inside the hospital. He hadn’t gotten a scent, nor her voice. Just the sensation of moisture on his face.
Hot moisture—the kind caused by tears.
Not wanting to think of Vonnie crying, desperate and alone, he got back to the point—trying to save her. “What did Walter tell you about the location?”
“He wanted to protect his friend’s privacy. But he told me to check between mile markers ten and eleven.” With a smile, she added, “With a strong emphasis on the ten-and-a-half point. I’m thinking we can drive out there and explore, see if we can find any overgrown driveways or something that lead to houses set back off the road, ones that can’t be easily seen.”
Though he knew what her answer would be, he had to ask the question. “You sure you don’t want to sit this one out, given everything that’s happened today?”
“You sure you want to keep breathing?”
“Okay, just had to ask.”
“I know,” she conceded.
Glancing at the dashboard clock, he said, “We’re going to run out of daylight soon.”
“So let’s head out there now rather than going home.”
“Forget it. You need a hot shower and a change of clothes. Plus, we’re not going alone.”
She tilted her head in curiosity, as if wondering who in this town would help them. Judging by what he’d seen at the game last night, he suspected Granville wasn’t as devoid of decent people as she might have been thinking recently. But he had some far better assistants in mind.
“I called in a few friends to help with the investigation.” He quickly told her about Julia and the others, not surprised she knew right away who they were.
“The eXtreme Investigations people? Their names came up in some articles about you.”
“Yeah, well, don’t judge them by those. They’re good people. And excellent detectives.”
“So they were the ones with you in the alley. Not just some Good Samaritans, huh?”
“Right. They’re the reason I got to you in time.”
She curled one leg up in the seat. “I’d meant to ask you about that. How on earth did you find me? I know you realized I was going to Berna Jackson’s, but it wasn’t even like you could drive around and search for my car since I didn’t have it.”
He shifted in the seat, focusing on the route, not on the additional questions an honest answer would raise. “Julia got a tip from a friend and drove me over.”
“What friend?”
He flicked the turn signal as they reached her street, turned carefully, focusing on the road and hoping she’d forget the question since they were almost to her house.
Fat chance of that. As soon as he pulled into her driveway and cut the engine, she asked again. “Aidan? What friend tipped her off? Does she know someone else in Granville?”
“Not exactly.” Opening the door, he got out and then walked around to the passenger’s side, opening her door for her and extending a helping hand. She took it, let him help her to her feet, and leaned against him while he walked her to the door.
Again, he’d hoped she would be distracted, but the minute she turned the key in her lock and led him inside, she put a hand on his arm and looked up at him, her expression troubled. “What aren’t you telling me? Something else happened. That’s why you’re being so secretive.”
“No, it didn’t, I swear. I just don’t like to talk about Julia to people who don’t know her.”
Her mouth rounded into a shocked O and she immediately let go of his arm. Her lashes fluttering, she stepped away from him, as if he’d made her uncomfortable.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened. She thought he was protecting some secret he shared with Julia. As in a personal relationship.
After the way he’d kissed her right in front of the other woman, and everyone else, back in that alley, she actually thought he was involved with someone else.
Having no other choice, he admitted, “Look, her partner told her. Morgan was scoping out the town, spotted you, and told her you were in some trouble.”
She looked both relieved and more confused. “Well, you could have said that, couldn’t you? How did he know me? Was he walking by the alley or something?”
Damn, she was relentless. Thrusting a frustrated hand through his hair, he spit out the truth, knowing she wouldn’t believe it but unable to keep coming up with half answers to put her off. “He’s a ghost, okay? Julia, my former boss, talks to a dead guy.”
He had to hand it to her: She managed to refrain from laughing or rolling her eyes in disbelief. Instead, she merely shrugged. “Gee, why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
He knew it sounded crazy. It had sounded nuts to him when he’d first met Julia, so for an in-your-face, truth-and-nothing-but reporter like Lexie, it had to seem even more ridiculous. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t absolutely true.
“Morgan Raines was Julia’s partner on the Charles-ton Police Force. He was shot down by a scumbag druggie seven years ago. She says he showed up a few months later and saved her life when she was almost killed in the line of duty, too.”
“Uh-huh,” she sai
d, nodding, that pleasant expression still on her face. He didn’t have any trouble reading it—she was thinking about calling for the guys in the white coats and padded wagons. “I take it you’ve met this guy?”
“No. Only Julia can see him.”
She snapped her fingers. “Wait, I think I saw this in a movie once. Mystery Men. This guy claims he can become invisible, but only if nobody’s around to see.”
Chuckling ruefully, he shook his head. “Julia’s going to like you.”
“That’ll make my day, I’m sure—being liked by Casper’s gal pal.”
“Whatever. Believe it or don’t. All I can say is, I’ve seen and done too much freaky stuff in my own life to question somebody hanging out with a ghost.” Lowering his voice, he added, “Sharing someone’s dreams isn’t exactly normal, either.”
Lexie’s smile faded and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. He’d made his point. She would at least open her mind to the possibility.
And once she met Julia . . . well, it was hard for anyone to resist Julia Harrington when she set her mind to being liked and trusted. The woman was almost as big a force of nature as Lexie.
Saturday, 4:45 p.m.
Surrounded by people who knew and cared about Aidan, Lexie had to wonder why he’d ever left Savannah. These people, his former coworkers at eXtreme Investigations, obviously missed him. She had no doubt they had been behind him all the way on that last publicity-tainted case. From the moment she’d gotten in Aidan’s SUV, which his friends had driven over to her house, it had been painfully clear they all thought he was crazy to have moved to Granville.
Not that they were rude, God, no; they’d all been wonderful. More warm and considerate toward her than most people around here were these days—except for Walter and his family. But it was clear they thought he had wasted a year of his life on regret. Julia Harrington, who might talk to ghosts but was also incredibly charming and down-to-earth, seemed especially appreciative that Lexie had drawn Aidan back into the “land of the living” as she called it.
Huh. Guess she’d know.
“So have you found out what Chief Dudley Do-Wrong did with the bones?” asked Mick Tanner, the guy who’d had Aidan’s back during the fight in the alley. With his broad grin, twinkling eyes, and flashing dimples, she suspected the sexy guy could be a wicked flirt. But he’d been nothing but cordial and professional with her.
Maybe because Aidan had given him a hard, warning look when he’d taken Lexie’s hand to shake it. But she could have imagined that. After all, he’d known her less than three days. They weren’t involved, had no claim on each other.
Except in their dreams.
“Lexie? The bones?” Mick prompted.
“Oh, sorry. No, I don’t know what he did with them. That’s something Aidan and I were going to get to work on. I was thinking it would be worth having Walter call the DA’s office, filing a request for information. If Dunston gets some heat from them, he’ll have to come up with some kind of answer.”
“Sure,” Mick replied, “as in, ‘Bones? What bones?’ ”
Lexie shook her head thoughtfully, disagreeing. “Twenty-four hours ago, I might have believed that. But he’s in the hot seat now. The spotlight is shining bright and he’s going to play Mr. Good Cop at least as long as he thinks people in this town give a damn.”
Olivia, who was as elegantly lovely as her boss, Julia, was flamboyantly sexy, cleared her throat. “Does your friend Walter know the medical examiner well? If he does get the remains, would he be open to allowing them to be . . . examined by anyone else?”
Lexie didn’t know Olivia’s background, if she was a psychic like Aidan, or saw ghosts like Julia. Come to think of it, she didn’t know what kind of power Mick had, either. But she suspected Olivia was not asking because she had some kind of forensics background. The tension in her tight shoulders and the haunted shadow in her eyes said she didn’t want to examine those remains but that she had to.
“Actually, yeah, they’re old friends. If he can pry those remains away from Dunston, I imagine he’d be willing to let you examine them, as long as he knows you have the credentials and reason to do so.”
Olivia nodded once, then looked away, focusing her attention out the window at the passing Georgia country-side. They had left town, heading west on Old Terrytown Road, with marshy flatlands and abandoned rice fields all around them. It wasn’t a particularly pretty drive, nor a popular place to live these days. Which could explain the abandoned houses. Some of them had been empty shells for a year, some for a hundred. Either way, the remaining neighbors were few and far between.
She couldn’t think of a better area to conduct meetings of a secretive club whose members had a predilection for teenage girls.
“Here’s the mile marker,” Aidan said, slowing as they drew close to the spot Walter had told her about.
They neared a mailbox that looked freshly painted and in use. Lexie studied the small name, and said, “Ah. Mr. McCurdy. He and Walter are old poker buddies. I’m sure he’s the anonymous source.”
“So this is the place,” said Mick. “Why don’t you pull over and let me get out, take a walk around? Obviously not many bones were found, and a single human body has a lot of them. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get lucky.”
Lucky enough to stumble over human remains on the side of a back country road. The thought was disturbing. But he was also right. “I should go, too. I know the area best.”
Aidan met her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Yes to Mick; no to you. He can tromp around along the side of the road; you and I have a house to look for. We’re going to drive up and back and see if we spot any old gravel roads, driveways, or paths, remember?” He shifted his attention to Julia, who sat beside her in the backseat. “Unless you have any other ideas, Julia?”
She shook her head slowly, gazing down at her own lap. “I need to get out for a few minutes. Let me go with Mick.” Lifting her head, she said, “I, um, might be able to narrow down the location of this mystery house.”
Lexie saw the way everyone else in the vehicle nodded, and realized they all thought the woman might be able to get a ghost to tell her where they should search. She still couldn’t wrap her head around it, but she also knew the other woman came across as competent, sharp, and, most important, sane.
And like Aidan had said, how normal was it to have shared sex dreams? She’d gone so far as to accept Aidan’s psychic abilities as simple truth; it shouldn’t be that difficult to accept what she was told about Julia.
Only, of course, it was. Psychic stuff, even dreams, had at least some kind of scientific possibility. She knew much of the brain was a mystery to researchers, so it didn’t shock her to think it might be capable of a lot more than was accepted as fact. Someone who was able to tap into all that unused brainpower might indeed be able to see things others couldn’t or even into other people’s thoughts and dreams.
But ghosts? That was a whole other story. That was life and death, heaven and hell and earth in the middle stuff. She had her faith, and her beliefs; they didn’t include wispy remnants of the dead hovering around the living.
Not that she was rude enough to say such a thing to Julia’s face. Because, no matter what she thought, everyone else around her trusted and believed in the woman completely. Either that, or they just liked her enough to humor her.
Aidan pulled onto the shoulder, waiting while Julia and Mick climbed out. Olivia appeared undecided for a moment, then joined them. “No sense putting it off,” she said with a stiff little smile. “If we find something suspicious, I’m the one who’ll be able to figure out if it’s part of a human body.”
Okay, so maybe the woman did have a forensics background.
“Lexie, why don’t you hop up front so you can get a better view?” Julia said as she stood outside the door. “You be the spotter.” She glanced at Aidan. “When I get some information, I’ll call you and try to narrow your search quadrant, okay?”
“Underst
ood.”
“It’ll be dark soon,” Julia added.
Lexie nodded in agreement. “We have no more than an hour of daylight left.”
“Okay,” Aidan replied, “so let’s make the most of it.”
Saturday, 6:30 p.m.
They started to arrive right on time.
Mayor Cunningham came first, then Harry Lawton. More followed.
Alone or in pairs, never in a group large enough to be noticed on the street, they’d smile at anyone passing by, then carefully make their way into a private side door of a building that was supposed to be closed for the weekend. The building, which provided office suites to a number of attorneys, investment types, and accountants, apparently also offered after-hours meeting space for some of its wealthy tenants.
Chief Jack Dunston watched them from his window-front table at the restaurant directly across the street. He’d specifically requested the spot, because of this view. Spending a long time looking at the menu and ordering slowly, he’d spread out his meal as long as he could.
No way did he want to give up his front- row seat, not yet anyway. Not until he’d figured out what to do.
Ignoring everyone else in the crowded place, which was popular with business lunch customers during the week and laughing young adults looking to hook up on Saturday nights, he took out a notepad and pencil and began jotting down names. He knew all of them by sight. Most he’d expected to be there. A few surprised him.
What he didn’t know was how many more would show up, how they might know each other, and, most important, why they were here. Why did these men gather at this building the second Saturday of every month? Were they the mysterious “club” his own officers sometimes talked about?
“So, Chief, will that be it for the night? Would you like me to bring you your check?” his waitress asked, startling him into covering up his notes with his arm.
“Uh, give me a little while, okay?” he said, offering her a big, aww-shucks smile. “I might want some dessert.”
“You got it,” she said before sauntering away.
He immediately peered out the window again, seeing two more men go through that door. Young and Wilhelm . He added their names to the list, which had grown to about twelve. Twelve men who he wouldn’t think had much in common, beyond being respected around these parts. What the newspaper owner and the bank manager had in common with teachers and administrators, he had no idea.
Cold Sight Page 20
