Winter's Curse

by Mary Stone

  Winter scrawled something in her notepad. “I’ll text Aiden. He can coordinate with whoever’s in charge in his absence. In the meantime, it’ll give him something to puzzle over at home,” she added with a wry smile. “He’s going stir-crazy.”

  Sun looked at her sharply, the case forgotten for the moment. “‘Aiden? Since when are you two on a first name basis?”

  Winter looked up. There was an expression on her face that almost looked like guilt. “What do you mean? I’ve known SSA Parrish for years.”

  Something in Winter’s eyes was hard to read. They stared at each other for another few seconds before understanding dawned…Aiden must have told Winter that he and Sun had once dated.

  Sun could feel her face growing hot and rapidly looked back down at her notes. What was it with this girl? Noah, who she’d toyed with the idea of approaching, was super protective of the rookie. And Aiden Parrish…had they talked about her? Anger started to simmer beneath her skin.

  Sun had been right in her initial assessment of Agent Black. She was an opportunist. A manipulator. She’d used her connection with Aiden to get into the office, and now she was using her wiles to keep herself there. Sun could feel something inside herself shutting off.

  “Yes,” she finally answered. “You have known Aiden for a long time, haven’t you? Please do let him know, if you will, that I would appreciate his insight on this.”

  She turned away from Winter. Dismissed her. Physically, at least.

  “At least we know now that we’re dealing with the same people,” Sun said, forcing herself to focus. “The video footage, being replaced by the footage from the day before and looped, fits with the first robbery. The fact that most of the kills were quick. Passionless. The Covington murder was an anomaly, but we should be looking for booby traps, as with the first job. We should also check out how the suspects were able to get a master key. We need to check out all employees, find any that might have gone missing recently. These people are thorough. They wouldn’t leave a loose end around that could implicate them. They’d kill them like they did with the guy that painted the lines in front of the bank.”

  “I’ll handle that. I like legwork,” Bull offered. He wiggled his thick, gray eyebrows. They looked like hairy caterpillars. “I’m a leg man.”

  Sun looked away from him in disgust. “Noah, you and I will look at possible next targets. And, Winter…”

  She looked over at the other woman, but Winter had gone white, her eyes looking a little wild. “Excuse me,” she muttered, pushing back from the table. “I’ll be back in a second.”

  Noah half-stood in concern.

  “Sit down, Dalton,” Sun snapped. “Winter’s a big girl. She can go to the bathroom by herself.”

  Noah shot Sun a look of reproof at her nasty tone.

  Did Sun care? Not one bit.

  Not again. Not already.

  Winter stumbled into the hallway, the headache pulsing at her temples, behind her eyes. The hallway seemed to narrow, blur, focus and then lengthen, and she felt dizzy.

  A few doors down were the restrooms. If she could make it there.

  She pressed the back of her sleeve against her nose and started moving. One foot in front of the other. She had to focus.

  Her hand was on the doorknob, turning it, when her vision started darkening around the edges. This one was coming fast. No slow build-up like the last one.

  She got into the room just in time and hoped it was empty. She felt herself going down, hitting the floor.

  Noah itched with impatience. He wanted to go after Winter. It looked like she had another of her episodes coming on, and he knew how devastating they could be, even if they were only brief. Five minutes went by, and he started getting more and more concerned.

  Finally, he interrupted Sun, as she talked about another robbery that could have the potential to be their next copycat. She was spitballing at this point, in his opinion, and he wouldn’t be missing much.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, his tone short.

  In the hallway, there was no sign of Winter. No blood droplets indicating that she’d had another bloody nose. But he saw that the bathrooms were just down the hall and closed the distance with quick steps.

  “Winter?” he called, knocking on the door. There was no answer, and he pushed it open. Hoped no other females were in there.

  She was sprawled out on the tile floor, face down. “Winter!”

  At the sound of his voice, she shuddered. Crouching down beside her, Noah rolled her over. He grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser above them and gently dabbed at the blood underneath her nose. Some of it had smeared on her cheek.

  Her eyes snapped open, and she sucked in a breath. “They were all dead. All of them.”

  His stomach tightened. “Take it easy, darlin’. Who is dead?”

  Color was coming back into her face, and she struggled to sit up.

  “Hold on. I’ll help you.” He stood, grasping her cold hands to help her to her feet.

  “There was a pile of men in uniform,” she said. Her voice was halting. Slow. She went to the mirrors in the bathroom. She ran the paper towels he’d given her under a stream of cold water, but then just stared at her own reflection. Lost for a minute.

  It spooked him.

  When she first confided in him about this…ability, or whatever it was, he’d thought having those types of insights would be a blessing for any law enforcement official. But these visions weren’t good for her. He knew it deep in his gut. She was going to have an aneurysm or something if she kept on like this.

  What he’d first thought was a blessing had become Winter’s curse.

  The hair raised on the back of his neck.

  “Uniforms? Like police officers?” he prompted, shaking away the dark thoughts.

  “No.” She shook her head and dabbed the wet cloth underneath her nose. “Not police. Security guards, maybe? There was a pile of weapons too.”

  “Do you know how many there were?”

  Frustrated, she shook her head. “No. It was just a snapshot. Ten. Maybe more. But they were dead.”

  “Okay.” He put one hand out and rubbed her back for a moment. This couldn’t be healthy for her. He had to find out more about her condition. He needed to know what caused it and whether the repeated episodes could cause any permanent damage. “But are you all right?”

  Blood gone, she wadded up the paper towel. “I’m fine. But we need to figure out the next target, or a lot more people are going to die.”

  “That can wait a second.” When she moved to bypass him, to leave the bathroom, he stepped in front of her. “Winter,” he said, concerned. “We need to figure this out.”

  “I know. So step aside.”

  He didn’t. “Not the security guard thing. Your migraines. Visions. Whatever the fuck they are.” Her eyes widened at the outburst, and he softened his voice. “You need to see a doctor.”

  Her eyes fired, her jaw setting with grim determination. “The hell I do. Butt out, Dalton.”

  No way in hell would he be doing that.

  “Every time this happens to you, aren’t you afraid you’re not going to come out of it? What if you’re driving? It’s almost as bad as epilepsy. You can’t control these episodes!” He stopped. Tried to calm himself. His voice had echoed off the walls. “This could be dangerous. Every time it happens, you have nosebleeds. You pass out. This isn’t normal.”

  “I know it’s not normal. Hearing that is nothing new.”

  Dammit. Now, she looked hurt.

  He wanted to pull her into his arms but didn’t look forward to the kidney punch he’d receive for his efforts. “Don’t try to play this off like I’m telling you you’re some kind of freak of nature. You know that’s not what I mean. You need to see a doctor.”

  “Don’t do this. Don’t try to take advantage of our friendship,” she warned, her voice low. “No one knows about this, and I’m trusting you to keep it that way. I’ve seen doctors. I�
��m not going that route again.”

  “Well, you need to figure this out. I don’t care if you’ve had a bad experience with a doctor. You can see another one. I’m not going to let this go.”

  “Back. Off.” She shoved past him, dropping the paper towels in the garbage. Her hand on the doorknob, she stopped again. “I mean it, Noah. I can handle this. Just let it go.” Even though her tone was stone-cold, her eyes were pleading.

  Shit. Damn. Hell.

  After she escaped into the hallway, he had to take a minute to calm down. It mattered far too much to him that she could be doing permanent damage to herself every time she ignored the physical toll the visions took on her. She called it taking advantage, but he saw it differently. Grimly, he knew that he might have to risk their friendship to do some more digging.

  Winter was seated at the conference table again when he came back. Sun gave him a narrow look but went back to what she was doing on her own computer. Bull, the goof, didn’t seem to pick up on the tension that was thick enough in the room to choke a horse.

  “Noah,” Sun said. “Sit by me. I have a couple of possibilities I want to go over with you. Get your take on them.” She looked up at him, her dark eyes liquid. “I value your opinion.”

  She lowered her lashes and Noah saw Sun send a quick look at Winter to gauge her reaction to the little display of open flirtation.

  Just perfect. Noah wanted to slam his head on the table. He was stuck between a pissed off friend and a co-worker who’d decided for whatever reason she wanted to make him incredibly uncomfortable. Probably just to get under Winter’s skin.

  He sat down next to Sun, holding himself stiff in his chair, angled away a bit. It didn’t help. She just scooted the computer over so that it was half in front of him and leaned up close enough that her small breast brushed against his arm.

  He looked across the table at Winter, who was smiling tightly as she dialed the phone. “Aiden,” she said in a soft tone, different than the one she used with Noah. He set his back teeth. “Sorry to bother you. How are you feeling? I’m hoping you can help me out with something.” She paused. Laughed. “Absolutely. You’re the best. I’ll email you.”

  Women were absolute monsters, Noah decided. And he couldn’t wait until this case was done so he could get out of whatever thing was going on here. Getting caught between two warring females was dangerous. He’d almost prefer a gunfight.

  15

  They’d done it.

  They’d pulled it off.

  Heidi felt an unaccustomed urge to grin as she watched the news coverage on CNN.

  “Two suspects escaped a police pursuit after a robbery and multiple murders were committed at The Phoenix Hotel in New York City,” the newscaster read in an alarmingly cheerful voice. “Law enforcement officials are being tight-lipped about the situation, but our sources say that the suspects got away in an Uber vehicle. The driver has been questioned, but all he could tell officers was that he dropped the two off at LaGuardia. They could be anywhere at this point.”

  A grainy photo popped up on the screen, taken from the lobby security camera footage. They’d never be identified by the photo, that was for sure.

  And now they were safe at the place she’d picked out ahead of time. Vermont was beautiful around Christmas, she thought, feeling more than a little smug.

  “How much did you get from the old lady?” she asked Ryan. She’d had him going through the bags, taking inventory.

  “She didn’t have as much as I thought she would,” he said, looking at the small pile of cash and jewelry in front of him. “It looks like about 400K in cash and six pieces of jewelry. A brooch, a diamond pin, three necklaces, one with a pretty nice-sized ruby, and an old wedding ring. Probably another two hundred thousand. I’m no jewelry expert, though. How about the prince?”

  “Two million.” She lifted her chin in satisfaction. “The suitcases were full of banded bills. Makes you wonder what he’d planned on doing with his time in the country.”

  “So?” Ryan said, looking at her carefully. “Are we done, then, love? You’ve pulled off an excellent, if a bit bloody, heist.”

  The satisfaction drained away, irritation taking its place. “I told you. You’re in for three jobs,” Heidi replied with a breeziness she didn’t feel. “You’ve got two more to go.”

  His face fell even as his eyes narrowed into slits. “One more.” He lifted a single finger as if to cement the point. “I did the bank with you, remember?”

  “And that was a practice run,” she pointed out. He was such a weak man. Pretty, but weak.

  He was silent for a moment, and then seemed to rally. “Well, what’s next then?”

  “You’ll find out when we get to it.”

  A muscle popped in his jaw. “Of course.”

  He stood up from where he’d been sprawled out on the floor, counting cash. If she were honest with herself, his weakness repelled her, but it was almost equal to the physical attraction she felt for him.

  He really was good-looking. He had that long, lean frame with interesting, understated muscles. And with the “Oliver Brown” face washed away, the wig gone, and the contacts ditched, he was appealing. His blue eyes glittered, and the contrast was striking with his fair skin and dark hair.

  He went to the window, looking out on the snow. On a ski hill, small dots in bright colors whizzed down the slopes like little bits of confetti in the distance.

  “Do you ski?” he asked, keeping his back to her.

  “No.”

  “You want to try and learn?” He shot her that quicksilver grin of his.

  “We’re not here on vacation, O’Connelly.”

  “How long are we here?” he asked. “Before the next gig?”

  “Two days.”

  “And knowing you, love,” he persisted, his voice lowering, growing more smoky, “you’ve got everything all planned out ahead of time. Seems we’ve probably got a bit of time on our hands.”

  He was throwing her off-balance. Uncomfortable, she looked back down at the suitcase she’d been repacking. To her annoyance, she felt a flush burning in her cheeks. “I’m not going skiing with you.”

  “Oh, that’s fine. There are lots of things to do when you’re cooped up in a little chalet.”

  Was he flirting with her? She was torn between wanting to put him in his place and wanting him to keep talking. To see what outrageous thing would come out of his mouth next.

  “For instance,” he said, his voice fading as he moved toward the kitchen. “I found something a previous tenant left behind in the fridge.”

  She snuck a look at the kitchen. He was bent over, looking in the open refrigerator. She looked back down. It was becoming obvious, what he was doing. Men were all after one thing. She wasn’t exactly naive.

  She frowned as a cork popped.

  A moment later, Ryan came out of the kitchen grinning. He held two flutes of champagne, the sparkling bubbles zipping upward in zigzagging lines.

  “You’ve had champagne before, haven’t you?” he asked. His eyes had gone soft blue, and he was looking at her in a way that made her feel hot and cold at the same time. In a good way.

  She fumbled one of the bundles of money, and it thumped softly to the carpet.

  “Here,” he said, holding out a glass. “To a job well done. We can drink to the brilliant genius who planned all of this.”

  Something flickered across his face, but it was there and gone so fast, she thought maybe she’d imagined it. “Well…”

  “Come on,” he said, that grin back in place, “I promise I won’t corrupt you. One little celebratory glass of champagne.”

  She took the glass, still watching him. He clinked the flute against hers in a jaunty little movement, making a tinging sound. “Okay.”

  “To success,” he said, the grin growing even wider.

  “To success,” she murmured back, taking a sip. The champagne was good. Light and fizzy. Sweet, with just a hint of tartness.

&nbs
p; She took another sip, a longer one this time.

  Normally, Heidi didn’t drink. Her father had, and that was enough to keep her away from alcohol for life. But her dad never drank champagne. She liked the little tingle she felt when the champagne went down.

  Ryan kicked back on a lounge chair with a view of the mountains. “This is a nice place. How far in advance did you have to rent it? I might come back here someday.”

  “I booked it a year and a half ago.”

  He shot her a glance, and she thought she read respect in the blue depths. “Talk about foresight.” He raised the glass to her. “You’ve been working on this that long?”

  She flushed a little. Or maybe it was the champagne. “Yeah. The planning stages go back a lot longer than that.”

  “I guess I’m in the hands of an expert, then,” Ryan said and drained his glass. “This is good. You want some more?”

  She nodded and handed over her empty champagne flute.

  He was back in a moment with a refill. “Your cheeks are pink,” he said, his voice low, brushing her fingers with his as he handed her the flute. Her fingers felt like they’d been scalded when he moved his hand away. “The bubbles must’ve gone to your head.”

  “I’m fine,” she countered, taking another sip. “It’s just warm in here.”

  She knew what he was doing. She wasn’t stupid, she reminded herself.

  “Maybe a little,” he replied, his eyes seeming to dance with good humor…and something else. “So, where are you really from? So far, I’ve been all over the country with you. I feel like South Dakota, where we met, wasn’t where you’d call home.”

  Why not tell him? It didn’t matter at this point. Or it wouldn’t, for long.

  “Northern Michigan,” she answered.

  “Really?” He sat back down on the chaise, this time facing her, his arms on his knees. He was either interested in hearing more or doing a good job of pretending. “Which part? I’ve been to Mackinaw Island before. I had a fun job there once, but no farther north than that. What is it they call you people up there? ‘Yoopers?’”