“Whatever’s going on, you can tell us about it,” Luke said. “I can assure you that whatever is said to us will be kept in confidence.”
“That’s not what I’ve seen of the gossip in this town.” Mike was still looking at Sara—who was eating and didn’t seem in the least perturbed by his glare.
“Mike,” Joce said softly, “I know how you feel. I’m new to this town too, and I’m still not used to it, but they can keep secrets. When I first came here, everyone in town conspired to keep me from knowing something about the man I was falling in love with, and—”
“Were you?” Luke asked. “I didn’t know that. I thought you and Ramsey—”
“You and Ramsey were a couple?” Mike asked. “But Tess wanted him from the first. She told me—”
“Mitzi!” Sara interrupted loudly. “Remember her? Criminal extraordinaire?”
Mike looked down at his plate. He wasn’t used to sharing his life with anyone but Tess, and even she didn’t know half of what he did.
“Is that the woman’s name?” Joce asked.
Everyone sat in silence as they waited for Mike to speak. They could see he was in a dilemma, but there was no way he could remove what they’d already been told. He decided that bringing the Vandlos to justice was more important than his own dislike of revealing things about himself.
“Tarot cards,” he said at last.
“What about them?” Sara asked.
Mike took a bite. “You asked how she was found and the answer is ‘tarot cards.’”
Everyone sat there staring at him, but Mike didn’t seem inclined to say more.
“See what I have to put up with?” Sara said as she waved her fork about. “He does this all the time. He’ll tell some intriguing little sentence, then not say a word more.”
“I know how you feel,” Joce said. “You mentioned a tunnel, but I’ve never been told about a tunnel under my house.” She gave Luke a look that said he had some explaining to do.
“Mike,” Luke said, “you wanta help me out here before I get put in the dog house for the next year?”
Mike had to take a few deep breaths before he could speak. “Everybody has weaknesses.”
“Even you?” Sara asked, blinking innocently.
“Mine seems to be a pretty young woman who runs around surrounded by a gaggle of geese.”
As Sara looked down at her food, her face turned a lovely shade of pink. She didn’t see the way Joce and Luke looked at each other with hope in their eyes.
Quickly, Mike told them the same story he’d given Sara, again being careful to leave out the part about Sara’s fiancé being Mitzi Vandlo’s son.
“So we come back to my first question,” Joce said. “Why do you think she’s here? Other than that she wanted her fortune told, that is. And by the way, no one in Edilean reads tarot cards. At least not for money. We’d know if they did.”
“We have informants, people who try to save their own skins by ratting out their friends and relatives. One of them told us Mitzi’s great weakness.”
The three others leaned forward in anticipation.
“She collects gypsy tarot cards.”
One by one, they leaned back.
“That’s it?” Sara asked. “All of this because of a bunch of cards with gypsy pictures on them?”
“That’s all of it,” Mike said in a way that didn’t allow for more questions. “Anybody want some more tea? Or a beer?”
“I’d like a margarita with lots of salt,” Joce said as she rubbed her belly.
“Don’t make jokes to him about food,” Sara said. “He’s more of a fanatic than my mother.”
Joce and Luke looked at him in awe.
When Mike stood up to go to the kitchen, Joce said, “If you don’t tell us the rest of this story I may give birth here and now and you will do the delivery. Sit! Talk!”
With a smile that showed the dimple in his cheek, Mike sat back down and told them what he’d read in the files the captain had given him. Through an informant, they’d found out that Mitzi Vandlo had what was probably the best—and maybe only—collection of gypsy-inspired tarot cards in the world. In an attempt to trap her, the Feds had obtained a deck that had once been in a museum. “As far as anyone knows, it was the only set in the world, and I can guess how they got them. They put them up for sale on eBay.”
“On eBay?” Sara asked.
“Plain, ol’ eBay?” Joce asked.
“Yes. The Feds made a bidding frenzy, but when it hit $75,000, they all dropped out. Except for one. He stayed until the unknown bidder won at $82,500.”
“And that was Mitzi?” Sara asked.
“They think so. It took six weeks to trace the buyer. There were shell corporations that owned other corporations until they came down to a P.O. box in Richmond. It was owned by a woman who had a driver’s license with an Edilean address.”
Mike was lying at the last, but he was careful not to show it. The truth was that the box had been rented by a man with a Pennsylvania license. The Feds had watched the box, but it had never been opened. Then, one day, a car in the parking lot had exploded, and the post office was evacuated. When everyone returned, the cards were gone.
They had found out about Edilean through Stefan. After years of silence, when they didn’t know where he was, he’d suddenly reappeared long enough to divorce his wife of almost twenty years, then go underground again. The next time he’d been seen was by an off-duty policeman in Richmond, and he was engaged to Miss Sara Shaw and living in Edilean. Put the odd actions of Stefan with the delivery of the tarot cards to nearby Richmond, and the Feds thought they might have found Mitzi. It was a dream come true when they were told that an undercover detective had a sister living in Edilean.
But Mike couldn’t tell any of that. He’d soon have to tell Sara the truth, but not yet.
“Maybe she knew she was being watched, so maybe by now she’s left town,” Joce said.
“We don’t think so. We think she came to Edilean to get something, but we have no idea what she wants. You guys know of any hidden treasure buried around here?”
Sara spoke into the ensuing silence. “Tell them what you saw at Merlin’s Farm.”
Mike had to work to keep from frowning. He was going to have to talk to her about not blabbing what he’d told her in confidence. On the other hand, maybe he should keep his mouth shut and tell her less.
When Mike hesitated, Sara said, “All right, I’ll tell them.” She then proceeded to give an accurate recounting of all Mike had told her of his day on the farm. “Did I miss anything?”
“No,” Mike said cautiously, “but remembering where traps are set doesn’t mean you can go there by yourself. Tomorrow I’m going to go talk to Lang and tell him that I now own the farm and—”
“Mike only gets to keep it if he lives there with Ariel and produces umpteen kids,” Sara said with a fake sigh.
Mike put up his hand before anyone could speak. “I’ve never even met the woman. But my brother-in-law did put quite a few restrictions on the deed.”
“I can imagine,” Luke said. “My cousin is a born lawyer.”
“Harsh,” Joce said.
“Way too harsh,” Sara echoed.
“So how can we help?” Joce asked, but she was looking at her husband.
Mike saw that Luke seemed to be in a trance. His eyes were glazed over, and he was staring at the wall. Mike looked at the two women in question.
“It’s his writer’s face,” Joce said. “He has a book idea, and it’s no use talking to him until he returns to earth.”
“Oh,” Mike said. “I’ve never been around a writer before.”
“Joce is a writer too,” Sara said.
“But I write biographies. I dig and find out about people. It’s not the same as making up plots. Luke starts with a blank piece of paper and—”
“The fair,” Luke said.
“What about it?” Mike asked. “By the way, where’s it to be held?”
“Nate’s Field,” Joce and Sara said in unison.
“Merlin’s Farm, K Creek, Nate’s Field,” Mike said. “Where do all these names come from?”
“No idea,” Joce said, her eyes on Luke.
He turned to Mike. “How do you plan to draw this woman out?”
Mike couldn’t very well say that he intended to use Sara’s fiancé to get the woman to show herself. “You have any ideas?”
“My publishing house has a fantastic in-house art department with state-of-the-art equipment.”
“Great,” Mike said, but he didn’t see the connection.
“What if we create a set of tarot cards with gypsy pictures on them, my pub house prints them, then we get someone to tell fortunes at the fair? That way this …”
“Mitzi,” Sara said.
“Mitzi—if she’s here—will see them.”
“And want them,” Joce added.
Mike sat there blinking at them as he thought about the idea. It was either brilliant or could get someone killed. “I … I don’t know if it would work. Where do we get an artist on such short notice?”
“Shamus,” Luke, Jocelyn, and Sara said in unison.
“Don’t believe I’ve met him,” Mike said, smiling at the assurance on all three faces. “Who is he?”
“He’s the youngest of the Fraziers,” Luke said.
“The afterthought,” Sara added. “The surprise to his parents.”
“He’s only fifteen, but he is a Frazier,” Joce said.
“What does that mean?” Mike asked.
The other three looked at one another but didn’t reply.
“So I get to be the fortune-teller, right?” Joce said. “I can lie on a chaise lounge and turn over the cards Shamus makes.”
“Absolutely not.” Luke’s tone said it was a done deal. He had spoken.
“Oh?” Joce asked, her eyebrows raised. “I guess you mean for me to stay here in this house during the fair. Lie in bed taking care of your babies, looking after your house, seeing to your food, and—”
“It was your house when the tunnel was mentioned, and now it’s my house?” Luke was calm, and his voice was firm.
“I think we’ll be going,” Mike said as he held out his hand to Sara.
She scooted off the bed, took Mike’s hand, and after making their farewells, they left the house. When they were outside in the evening air, they looked at each other and started laughing.
Mike didn’t release Sara’s hand. “So who do you think will win?”
“I’ll put twenty on Joce calling me tomorrow and asking me to make her some outfit for fortune-telling.”
“I never take a bet I know I’ll lose. Doesn’t Tess have some big, round earrings?”
“I know which ones you mean. Small children could use them as swings.”
Smiling, Mike kissed the back of her hand.
“Hey!” Sara said as she jerked out of his grasp. “Married woman, remember?”
“You’re not even close to being married.” It was dark and cool outside and the crickets sounded good. “Want to take a walk?”
Sara was familiar with the big garden, so he followed her. There were no outdoor lights, but the moonlight was bright. “Are you looking forward to getting this case done and going home to Florida?”
“I just got here. You want to get rid of me already?”
“No, but when your case is solved, you’ll be free.”
Mike was glad the darkness covered his smile. Sara seemed to think Mitzi Vandlo would fall for the ruse of the fake tarot cards. Did Sara imagine policemen throwing back the tent flaps and putting handcuffs on the woman?
“You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Of course not.”
“Yes, you are. I can feel it.”
“Women’s intuition?”
“If you don’t stop making fun of me, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” His voice lowered. When she turned to look at him, the moonlight on her face made him want to pull her into his arms. Most of the women he’d met in his adult life let him know they were willing, so why did Sara look at him like he was her … her friend?
“I’ll get you back by setting you up with a second date with Ariel.”
“You really hate her, don’t you?”
Sara started walking again. “I can assure you that it’s mutual. Want to hear what she did to me in the fourth grade?”
That was the last thing Mike wanted to hear about. “What’s that smell?”
“Probably my mom’s perfume. When’s your first date with Ariel?”
“Saturday. Is your mother here and hiding in the bushes and that’s why I smell her?”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I’m wearing her perfume.”
Reaching out, Mike caught her arm and looked at her in the silvery light. “Do you mind if I smell it at a closer range?”
Sara lifted her chin to give him access to her neck, but then she abruptly straightened. “Wait! You’re not a vampire, are you?”
“What in the world goes on in that head of yours?”
“I’ve been watching teen movies. Who would have thought that teenagers liked sex?”
“Every counselor of teen pregnancy,” Mike said. “So what about the perfume?”
“Oh, sure.” Sara turned her head, and Mike leaned forward, his face on her neck.
When his lips touched her skin, she jumped away from him, frowning. “Don’t do that. I’m only human.”
Mike stepped back until he felt a tree. “Sara, you’re going to drive me insane.”
“That’s nice to hear, but I don’t believe you.”
He was trying to get himself under control. A warm evening, darkness, beautiful, desirable Sara in a white dress that seemed to be made of moonlight, and an erotic, enticing smell that surrounded them. “Where did your mother get that perfume?” he managed to ask, his voice low and throaty.
She was looking at him in speculation, and what she wanted to do most in the world was put her hands on his chest. “She …” Sara had to take a couple of breaths to calm herself. Greg, Greg, Greg, she silently chanted—and tried to forget that it had been months since they’d made love. It had been even longer since they’d kissed more than a parting peck.
“You’re looking at me oddly,” Mike said as he held out his hand to her.
Sara took a step back. “My mother.”
“What about her?” Mike took a step forward.
“She dabbles with making products, shampoos and such. But this is the only perfume she’s ever made. It’s called—”
“What?” Mike took another step toward her.
“Scarlet Nights.”
“Sara …” Mike held out both hands to her.
She started walking backward down the path she knew well, facing him, and she was talking fast. “My sisters and I have always been embarrassed by the name. About eight years ago my parents went away for a long weekend and they came back … well, giggling. Two days later, my mother made a perfume and named it Scarlet Nights.”
“I like it,” Mike said softly. “I like that scent, and I like the name.”
“My sisters and I said she couldn’t possibly call it that, but she just laughed at us and said …”
“Said what?”
“That every generation loves sex. I think we should go inside. It’s getting cold out here.” Before he could reply, Sara ran past him toward the house.
As for Mike, he needed to stay outside until he was fit to be seen in public. He knew he needed to get himself under control— all of him, mind and body.
At the moment, the situation he was in confused him. In the past, he’d made love to women for the sole purpose of getting information from them. Later, some of the women had been taken off to prison. But except for one time, Mike had been able to disassociate himself from them because he’d known that they’d be all right after he left. They’d all had money, children, and homes. They might t
ell Mike he’d broken their hearts, but he knew they’d recover.
But Sara was a whole different case. What would happen to her after Mike left? Especially if they did become intimate? He hoped the two Vandlos, mother and son, would be handcuffed and put in squad cars, but what then? Would Mike also get in his car and leave?
He visualized the scene. Would he wave good-bye to the people of Edilean? Luke and Joce? Tess and Ramsey, the brother-in-law he’d never met?
If he later returned to visit his sister and her kid, would the townspeople hate him for having deserted Sara?
And what about Merlin’s Farm? Could Mike live there after his retirement? Would Sara be married by then? To some local guy who smoked cigarettes and watched football all weekend? Some man who fried a turkey and set the house on fire? Or would she fall for another out-of-towner who’d slick-talked her into…
Mike ran his hand over his face. Long ago he’d trained himself not to get emotionally involved with his undercover subjects. He’d not always succeeded, but no matter what his feelings, in the end, he’d left them behind and gone on to another job. The thought of doing that to Sara made him feel queasy. Whereas he usually dealt with criminals, Sara was a true innocent.
Maybe it was this town that was bothering him. Or maybe it was the fact that he was facing retirement and didn’t have a clue what he was going to do with the rest of his life. He remembered standing in that old orchard at Merlin’s Farm and seeing a future that didn’t involve shooting people, or even betraying them. Maybe, just possibly, his sister knew what she was doing when she’d given Mike that old farm.
Turning, he looked back at the house. If catching the Vandlos weren’t so important, he’d leave now before anyone—especially Sara—got hurt.
But he couldn’t do that.
He walked back to the apartment and smiled when he smelled popcorn. Inside, Sara was bent over the DVD player.
“Want to see a movie?” she asked.
“Only if it’s a romantic comedy. They’re my favorite.”
“That’s odd. I would have pegged you for a Jason Statham fan.” She held up a copy of Shank. “But if you don’t like it, I have a couple of Katherine Heigl films around here somewhere.”
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