Untouchable

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  When the storm had passed, Jack collapsed on top of her, rolled onto his side and looked at her. There was still some fire in his eyes.

  “Told you I was good with fierce,” he said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Winter raised her arms up over her head in a luxurious stretch that reached all the way to her toes.

  “That was . . . amazing,” she said.

  Jack smiled. He looked very pleased with himself. “Yes, it was. Did you mean what you said earlier? That sex had never been fierce for you until now?”

  “Yep. You?”

  “The word fierce was not in my sexual vocabulary until tonight. What do you think that says about us?”

  She levered herself up, pushed him onto his back and then leaned over him, folding her arms on his chest.

  “I don’t know what it says about you,” she said. “But I do know what it says about me.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “It means that until tonight I’ve spent most of my life worrying that I could never trust any man with the truth about myself.”

  “The hypnosis thing? It got in the way of relationships?”

  “Are you kidding?” she said. “Every damn time.”

  “Hard to believe.”

  “I’ve told you that I’m a very good hypnotist, but even you don’t know the whole truth about me.”

  “Is that right?” Jack tangled his fingers in her hair. “So what is the whole truth?”

  “When I was fourteen years old I almost killed a man.”

  “With hypnosis?” Jack sounded intrigued but not alarmed. “How does that work?”

  “My subject, if you want to call him that, was a foster parent in one of the homes where I was staying for a while. He tried to assault another girl who was sleeping in the same room with me. I frightened him. In hindsight, I think I must have caused him to suffer a panic attack. I made him believe that his heart was failing. He lost consciousness. I thought he might be dead. He wasn’t but I didn’t find out for several days that he had lived, because Alice and I took off that night.”

  “Impressive. Who is Alice?”

  “My foster sister.” She waited. When he didn’t offer anything more she felt compelled to push a little harder.

  “Is that all you can say?” she said.

  “Is there anything else I should say?”

  “My talent doesn’t make you nervous, does it?”

  “Should I be nervous?”

  “No. But on a couple of other occasions I’ve made the mistake of telling a man what I could do with my ability. I felt I had an obligation to be up-front and honest, you see.”

  “Not always a wise policy.”

  “No, it isn’t,” she said. “The first time was with my first serious boyfriend. I was in college. We were talking about getting married after we graduated. My family had strongly advised me to keep my talent a secret but I didn’t want to keep that kind of secret from the man I thought I was going to marry.”

  “I take it he did not react positively?”

  “At first he thought I was joking. He insisted that I prove I could do what I claimed.”

  Jack groaned. “I’ll bet he wanted you to run an experiment on him.”

  “Yep.”

  “He either wanted to prove that you were a fraud or that he couldn’t be hypnotized.”

  “You guessed it.”

  “He was an idiot.”

  “I didn’t put him into a deep trance,” she said quickly. “I just made him a little . . . anxious. But when he realized what was happening, he went straight into a full-blown panic attack. It was horrible. I didn’t know what to do. I managed to get him calmed down but when it was all over he dumped me.”

  Jack settled more comfortably into the pillows and folded one arm behind his head. “Was that all he did?”

  “Well, he also said I should be locked up in a psychiatric hospital. Did I mention that he was majoring in psychology?”

  Jack yawned. “Some people have no sense of adventure.”

  “There was also Dr. Edward Cresswell. He’s a researcher who studies hypnosis. He has his own lab. I thought maybe he could help me figure out how to use my talent in a medical setting. He wanted me to give him a demonstration, too, but he wanted to observe. One of his research assistants volunteered to let me put him into a trance. I did.”

  “How did that go?”

  “Pretty well. I told you I’m good. Cresswell was very enthusiastic about me and my ability. He gave me a job in his lab. I was thrilled. I thought I was going to be on the cutting edge of research into hypnosis. I thought I would be helping people. I thought that I had finally found my calling.”

  “Obviously the good times did not last,” Jack said.

  “It didn’t take me long to find out that, until I joined her team, Cresswell had been falsifying his research. He had been making a good income off the grants he was receiving from private donors and foundations, but it was all a fraud, at least until I came along. People were starting to question some of his findings.”

  Jack raised his brows. “Because they couldn’t replicate them?”

  “Exactly. Cresswell hoped I could save his ass. My job was to convince the people handing out the grant money that his studies were accurate. I was supposed to give demonstrations to prove that the fake research was the real deal. I refused to cooperate in perpetuating the fraud. I handed in my resignation. Cresswell was furious. He managed to convince his colleagues I was a fraud. He smeared my reputation. I realized afterward that I would probably never be able to work in the field of hypnosis research again.”

  “Another career path down the tubes,” Jack said.

  “Yes.”

  “Was that when you decided to become a meditation instructor?”

  “It was the only thing left that held any appeal. And now that may turn out to be a dead end, too.”

  Jack whistled softly. “You did tell me it was hard to make a living with your talent.”

  Something in his voice snagged her attention. She glared at him.

  “You knew about my experience at Cresswell’s lab, didn’t you?” she said.

  “They say you can find almost anyone online these days.”

  “But you booked a session with me anyway.”

  “I prefer to form my own conclusions,” Jack said.

  “Well, now you can understand why I’m anxious to get my own business up and running, not just because I want to find a good use for my talent, but also because I really don’t want to work for someone else. I want to be my own boss.”

  “Right.” Jack eyed her thoughtfully. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  She hesitated. “No, I guess not.”

  “Are you always this chatty after sex?”

  “No,” she said. “I just get up and go home.”

  “Same with me. Staying until morning changes the dynamic, doesn’t it?”

  “Makes it feel like it isn’t just another date,” she said. “Feels more like the start of a relationship, which is awkward because you’re pretty sure it won’t turn out to be the start of a relationship.”

  “Whoa.” Jack held up a hand, palm out. “What happened to the positive thinking?”

  “I hate to admit it, but that doesn’t always work when it comes to dating.”

  “Well, one thing we know for sure tonight.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Neither of us is going to get up and go home,” Jack said. “We’ll both be staying until morning.”

  “Not much choice when you think about it,” she said. She was aware of feeling rather wistful. “Extenuating circumstances and all that.”

  “That’s one way to put it. Would you mind if I went to sleep now?”

  She realized he sounded
a little irritated. She wondered what she had said that annoyed him.

  “No,” she said. “I think maybe I can sleep now, too.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The receptionist behind the sleek front desk of the Cassidy Springs Wellness Spa was tailor-made to complement the lobby décor—trendy and stylish in a fashionable, minimalist way. Her blond hair was caught up in an elegant bun. Her flowy gray pants were topped by a kimono-like jacket belted at the waist with a white sash.

  She looked up from her computer and fixed Jack with a polite, polished smile. Her teeth were so white and so bright he was pretty sure he could have used them to read a newspaper.

  “May I help you?” she said. Then she noticed Winter. Her eyes widened and she jumped to her feet and gave a little squeal of delight.

  “Winter. You’re back. About time. It’s so good to see you. Why didn’t you text or call? It was like you just dropped off the face of the earth. I’ve been worried about you.”

  “Hi, Gail,” Winter said. “I just came back to pick up my last paycheck.”

  Gail rounded the end of the white stone counter and hugged Winter. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” Winter said.

  Gail wrinkled her nose. “But you probably haven’t missed working here, have you?”

  “Well, no.”

  As far as Jack could tell, Winter had returned the hug with genuine warmth. He waited quietly.

  Gail finally released Winter, took a step back and surveyed him with polite curiosity. He thought she looked a little wary now.

  “Who is this?” she asked.

  “Jack Lancaster,” Winter said, “a friend of mine. Jack, this is Gail Bloom.”

  Gail smiled but Jack got the impression she had to work at it.

  “A friend, hmm?” she said.

  “A very close friend,” Jack said.

  “Uh-huh,” Gail said. She turned back to Winter. “Good to know you haven’t been spending all your time meditating on some remote mountaintop since you’ve been gone.”

  “It was a seaside, not a mountaintop,” Winter said.

  Gail glanced at the entrance to a hallway and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Are you coming back to this place? Because if that’s your plan, I strongly advise against it. Just between you and me and your good friend Mr. Lancaster, I’ve got my résumé out.”

  “Why?” Winter asked.

  “Forrester is still trying to sell the spa and that means he’s not putting any money into it. Things are going downhill fast. You haven’t been replaced. The acupuncturist quit a few weeks ago and most of the aestheticians are looking for other positions.”

  A woman emerged from the hallway. Unlike Gail, she did not rush forward to greet Winter with a warm hug. Something hard glittered briefly in her eyes.

  “Winter,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Long story, Nina,” Winter said. “Jack, this is Nina Voyle. She handles the nutritional supplements and teas here. Nina, Jack Lancaster.”

  Nina was dressed in the spa’s gray uniform. She was in her early forties but she had the smooth, sculpted features of a woman who spent a sizable portion of her salary on Botox, dermal fillers and maybe some other, more invasive procedures.

  She nodded at Jack. “Nice to meet you.”

  “And you,” he said.

  Nina turned back to Winter. “You’re wasting your time coming back here. Forrester is still pissed at you. And even if you offer to return to your old job I don’t think you can save this place. It’s fading fast.”

  “I’m not here to ask for my old job,” Winter said. “As I was telling Gail, I just dropped by to pick up my last paycheck. After we leave we’re going to get some lunch. Jack and I have a couple of errands to run and I’m hoping the manager of my apartment complex collected my mail while I was away. Then I’m going to get my stuff out of the Cassidy Springs Self-Storage. After that I’ll be leaving town for good.”

  Gail’s eyes widened. “Did you get a job in another spa?”

  “No, I’ve decided to go into business for myself,” Winter said.

  “No kidding?” Nina looked skeptical. “How’s that working out for you?”

  Before Winter could respond, a man appeared from the hallway. His light brown hair was expensively cut. So were his trousers. His black crewneck pullover was formfitting. The sleeves were cut short to emphasize the muscles of his upper arms. His watch was gold and there was a large ring on his left hand. It was too flashy to be a wedding band.

  “Winter,” he said. He looked stunned at first. In the next second, relief appeared in his eyes. “You’re back.”

  “Just dropped in to pick up that paycheck you owe me,” Winter said. “Oh, and I also want to ask you a couple of questions. But first, meet my friend, Jack Lancaster. Jack, this is my ex-employer, Raleigh Forrester.”

  Raleigh acknowledged the introduction with a brusque, impatient inclination of his head and then turned back to Winter.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked.

  “I thought you’d like to know that my life has gotten very exciting lately,” Winter said. “I’m sure you’ll hear the news eventually, but I wanted you to be among the first to know.”

  “Know what?” Raleigh asked, cautious now.

  “Night before last, Kendall Moseley tried to murder me.”

  Raleigh stared at her. Gail’s mouth fell open in shock.

  “What?” Nina managed.

  “The good news is that I’m alive,” Winter said, widening her hands in a ta-da gesture.

  “Did the police catch Kendall Moseley?” Gail asked, her eyes huge.

  “Yes,” Winter said. “Luckily, Jack, who happens to be my neighbor, realized something was wrong and came to my rescue. There was a struggle. Moseley was injured and taken to a hospital, where he died.”

  “You were almost murdered?” Gail whispered. “By Moseley? That’s hard to believe.”

  Raleigh snorted. “Yeah, really hard to believe.”

  Winter gave him a cold smile. “I guess you had to be there.”

  “Hey.” Raleigh took a step back. “What’s that supposed to mean? You can’t blame me for whatever Moseley did the other night.”

  “I told you he was dangerous,” Winter said.

  “Exactly,” Raleigh said. “Obviously he was crazy. There was nothing I could have done to stop him.”

  “You insisted that I book a whole series of meditation sessions with him,” Winter said. “Private sessions.”

  “He was a good client. I had no way of knowing that he was a whack-job.”

  “I told you that he was a whack-job.”

  “It’s not like you’re a trained psychiatrist.”

  “I’ve got news for you, Raleigh. You don’t have to be a psychiatrist to diagnose crazy. You just have to be willing to look past the money.”

  “What do you expect me to do about it now? You said Moseley was dead.”

  “You owe me,” Winter said. “I suggest that you and I and my friend Jack have a private chat.”

  “If you’re talking about suing me—”

  “Your office,” Winter said.

  There was a lot of steel in her siren-like voice but she wasn’t trying to hypnotize Forrester, Jack decided. She was just making it clear that she was really pissed off.

  “Fine,” Raleigh growled. “I’ll talk to you. But there’s no reason to include your friend.”

  “Actually, there is a reason,” Winter said. “Jack is looking into this situation for me.”

  “What’s to look into?” Raleigh said. He shot Jack a suspicious look. “Whatever happened, it’s finished, right? You said Moseley is dead.”

  “I’m just here to clean up a few details,” Jack said.

  Raleigh n
arrowed his eyes. “Are you a cop?”

  “No,” Jack said. “I’m a consultant.”

  Raleigh glared. “What kind of consultant?”

  “It’s complicated,” Jack said.

  He reached inside his jacket and took out three of the all-purpose business cards that he kept handy. For reasons that eluded him, people always seemed to take him more seriously if he presented a card. His read simply, Jack Lancaster, Consultant, followed by his phone number. He gave one of the cards to Raleigh and then offered the remaining two cards to Nina and Gail. Nina glanced at them but she didn’t take one. Gail frowned and snapped one out of his fingers.

  Raleigh scowled at the card in his hand. It was clear he wanted to refuse a private meeting but it was also obvious that he did not want to continue the confrontation in front of Nina and Gail, who were watching the scene, fascinated.

  “All right,” he snarled. “We’ll talk. But if you think you’re getting some kind of settlement from me, you’re the one who’s crazy.”

  He swung around and stalked down the hall. Jack and Winter followed Raleigh into an expensively appointed office. Raleigh stationed himself behind a steel-and-glass desk and fixed Winter with a grim look.

  “What do you want?” he said.

  “Two things,” Winter said. “My last paycheck and the key to Kendall Moseley’s locker.”

  Raleigh acted as if he hadn’t heard the first demand. He focused on the second.

  “I can’t give you the key to Moseley’s locker,” he said with a righteous air. “Lockers are private. You know that. They are for the personal use of our clients.”

  Jack decided it was time for him to say something meaningful beyond Hello, my name is Jack. I’m with her.

  “The client in question is dead,” he said.

  Raleigh gave him a dismissive glare. “I only have your word on that.”

  “Google it,” Jack suggested.

  “It doesn’t matter if he’s dead or not,” Winter said to Raleigh. “As the owner of the spa you have the right to open a client’s locker at any time. It’s in the fine print on every contract that people sign when they take out a membership here.”