Saving Grace

by Patricia Rosemoor

  Listening intently for other signs of life, she made her way down the stairs. The only sounds she heard other than her own unnatural breathing were kitchen noises coming from the ground floor restaurant as staff got ready for the lunch crowd.

  Grace got to the bottom of the stairway, paused and took a good look ahead. From the outside entryway next to the loading dock, light shone in along the hallway. Nothing moving there. Swallowing hard, she took another step forward and could see the vertical loading dock doors were down, so there was no activity here, no reason for anyone to be around.

  Even so, she moved cautiously until the freight elevator came into view. It stood open, but no one was around. Raphael’s assistant had already been and gone. Clouds of loose colorful fabric half filled the Dumpster that had been pulled up against the loading dock platform.

  A big breath and a hope that no one would be back to do anything about them bolstered her courage.

  She swung around the corner to the small office and peered in through the window to make sure it was empty before opening the door and taking herself in.

  The computer sat there mocking her.

  Not about to let anything intimidate her, Grace sat, brought up the display and followed Declan’s instructions. In barely more than a minute, she was able to verify the IP address that matched the one connected to the e-mails from the blackmailer.

  The e-mails had been sent from this computer!

  Heat flushed through Grace. She wanted in the worst way to march upstairs and face down Raphael. But what if he wasn’t guilty? Any of the tenants could have gotten to this computer. Then again, why would they?

  The image she’d had of Eula and the unidentified man at the computer came to her. But surely it couldn’t be the security guard—she was always so polite. Grace would swear Eula really liked her. Eula would have to be a great actor to betray her and seem natural with her afterward.

  Then, again, what reason would Raphael have to blackmail her?

  Unable to make that call, Grace pulled up the system’s search engine and spent a few minutes entering variations on her name to see if it would come up with anything. Nada.

  She fed in the photo extension and a list of lots…dozens…hundreds of photos started popping up on the screen faster than she could keep up. The photos themselves opened.

  Grace watched the screen scroll downward.

  There they were. One after another after another. Dozens of photos of her taken wearing the bad-vibe bustier while fantasizing about Declan. Even more of her dressing and undressing.

  Fetching her cell phone, she speed-dialed Declan.

  “What did you find?”

  “It’s the right IP. And I’m looking at the files of my photos. What do I do now?”

  “Get out of there.”

  “Not until I can get proof.” What she wanted was to delete them, but she knew that wouldn’t be her wisest move—if they were missing, it would simply alert the blackmailer. She wouldn’t doubt he had others, perhaps stored on the camera’s memory media. She searched the desk, then swore. “I can’t find a damn disk!”

  Declan told her what to do instead, ending it with, “Hurry and get out before you get caught.”

  “I’m already hurrying. I need to get back upstairs anyway—they’ll be looking for me.”

  Disconnecting, she got down to business, her mind whirling. And as the computer worked, she searched the drawers of the desk until she found what she was looking for—a set of building keys.

  Mama had said she needed evidence. Having copies of the photographs was only part of it. It proved someone was taking naughty pictures of her, but not who, and not why.

  Tonight, no matter what she had to do, that’s exactly what she was going to find out.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Declan was ready to tear out of his office in search of Grace when she finally waltzed through the front door. For once, the energy radiating from her was positive.

  “Finally!” he said. “I thought I was going to have to send out search dogs.” It took all his restraint not to pull her into his arms and kiss her in relief.

  “You know I had to finish up a fitting at Voodoo. I told the receptionist I’d be back and I didn’t want Raphael getting suspicious. I assume you got everything I sent?”

  Declan nodded and moved to his inner office. “All neatly stored in cyberspace on my account.”

  “I got something else from the loading dock office.” Gazing at him intently, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a key ring and jingled it.

  “The keys to the kingdom?” Already he didn’t like it.

  “One of these matches the loading dock office door lock, another the freight elevator lock. I would have tried the loading dock entrance, but I would have been on candid camera, and I’ve had enough of that action.”

  Not having to work too hard to know what she was up to, Declan unclenched his suddenly tense jaw. “How long can you get for illegal entry?”

  “How long can someone get for blackmail?” she countered. “I’ll bet the keys to the Voodoo offices and even to Raphael’s apartment are here.”

  Throwing himself in his desk chair, he chose not to argue with her. Perhaps using the keys would never be necessary. “I got some information that’s pretty illuminating.”

  “As in?”

  “A connection between Raphael Duhon and Larry Laroche,” he said. “They’re second cousins once removed.”

  Grace started. “I’ve never heard Raphael mention him.”

  “Could be because he knows it would upset you.”

  “I saw them together in a vision—Raphael and Laroche. I thought maybe they were having a thing. Even though they’re distant cousins, apparently they’re close in real life.”

  “Added to the questionable photos we found in Raphael’s profile…”

  Grace shook her head. “I just don’t see a man like Raphael hanging outside my apartment. Or chasing me into a parking lot to frighten me.”

  Declan had been having the same problem. The surge of positive energy he’d felt from Grace had already dissipated to be replaced by a whopping dose of anxiety. That Raphael might be the guilty one, after all, tore her up inside.

  “Everything is pointing to Raphael,” Declan said just as the computer dinged, alerting him to a new e-mail coming in. “Hold on. Ian said the report on the fingerprints would come through for sure today.”

  Grace rushed to his side to watch as he opened the e-mail.

  “Yep, this is it.” He quickly scanned the contents. “Those fingerprints on the notes to you were left by Bergeron Prejean.”

  “Bergeron? The only man I know by that name is the janitor at our building.”

  Declan clicked on the link and the browser opened to a page that showed a copy of the fingerprints and his photo—definitely the same man they’d seen when they’d gone to Gotcha! to find the hidden camera. The report included a rundown of Bergeron’s criminal history.

  “He was just released from prison…” Declan said as he scanned the information. “He was sentenced to four years for armed robbery…eighteen months time served.”

  “So he gets out of prison, finds a job as a janitor and then decides to blackmail me.”

  “If he really is a janitor,” Declan said, searching his desk for the list of building workers. “I didn’t see his name on that list you gave me.”

  Grace leaned into him to see the paper he lifted from the desk. “You’re right. No Bergeron…”

  “I overheard Raphael warning Eula not to let her brother back in the building. He accused her of giving the man free rein around the place.” Finding what he was searching for, he said, “Here it is.” Declan tapped an entry on the list. “Eula’s last name is Prejean.”

  “So he’s her brother.” Grace fell into the chair next to his desk as if the stuffing had been knocked out of her. “When I touched Eula earlier, I saw her looking at a man’s back—he was at a computer.”

  “Did
you see the man’s face?”

  “No, nothing. I barely got a glimpse of the vision and then it was gone.”

  “Let me check something out.” Instincts humming, Declan ran a search on Bergeron Prejean. Lots of links came up. Scanning them quickly, he clicked on one. “Here it is.”

  “What?”

  As the article about Bergeron’s trial came up, Grace rose and moved next to him. Trying to ignore the way her closeness affected him, Declan skimmed the text.

  “There it is. Motive. Your mother is the one who prosecuted him.”

  “Oh, Lord…we have him. Now all we need is to prove it. Mama said if we could get proof, she could take care of everything.”

  “What if it’s not Bergeron?”

  Though the proof seemed to be right in front of him, as a former cop, Declan knew that what might constitute proof could be misleading. He glanced over the rest of the report on Bergeron. He’d committed a few petty crimes, nothing more revealing. Of course that didn’t mean he hadn’t committed other crimes for which he hadn’t been caught. Still, his instincts told him there was more to it than was obvious.

  “I mean, Bergeron could have sent the notes,” he explained, “but someone else could be blackmailing you. Two different things. Raphael has just as much motive, if not more.”

  “Then I’ll find the truth.”

  “I might think they were in it together if Raphael hadn’t told Eula her brother wasn’t welcome in the building. Or maybe that was simply for effect. He didn’t want to be seen with a criminal he was aiding.”

  They talked about it over a quick lunch of crawfish Etouffée that had been delivered just before she’d arrived. As Grace told him what she wanted to do, Declan thought he’d never seen her so animated, so passionate. She knew exactly how she wanted to play this out. Whatever fear she’d had seemed to have been wiped out by her sense of outrage and determination.

  He didn’t love Grace’s plan, but it might work. If they nailed the villain before he launched the site, they could stop the damage. And Declan would be her backup. He would see that nothing happened to her.

  Still…

  “I’m the one who should go into the building,” he insisted. “I am the private investigator.”

  Grace shook her head. “I didn’t start this, but I am going to finish it. Besides, if I get caught in the building, I have a reason to be there. You don’t. And I need you as backup—my secret weapon.”

  Her logic was stellar. The warning in his gut not so much. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

  “You keep saying that…like it would be your fault.”

  Declan stared at Grace for a moment. Could he tell her about the family curse? Would she believe him? They didn’t exactly have a conventional relationship. Or a personal relationship for that matter. Things had gone so fast.

  No doubt she was attracted to him, but did she hope for more?

  Whether or not Grace wanted to be with him, against everything he believed in, every vow he’d made, Declan wanted her in every way. He couldn’t think of anything—or anyone—else. As she would be the object of Sheelin’s revenge, Grace deserved to know in case he’d already poked the prophecy.

  “If something bad happens to you, it would be my fault.”

  Grace shook her head. “Just because you’re the professional doesn’t mean—”

  “No, not that.” As much as he didn’t want to tell her, he had to warn her. “Because I’m cursed.”

  Grace reached across the counter to take his hand. On contact, she started and locked gazes with him.

  He could feel her reading him!

  Not wanting to put anything specific in her head—he figured sometimes people made what they believed would happen come true—Declan went still and tried to clear his mind, not that it would do any good. She would see what she would see. What was in his mind might not be relevant.

  Grace’s breath caught in her throat. Her confusion and uncertainty washed over him.

  “Declan, you need to explain.”

  She didn’t need to clarify. The shift in her was so obvious that he knew she’d seen something that scared her. Reluctant as he was to tell her, Declan didn’t feel he had a choice any longer.

  “It started a long time ago, Grace, nearly a century,” he began. “With Donal McKenna and a woman named Sheelin O’Keefe. They had an affair, but Donal didn’t return Sheelin’s deep affections. He fell in love with another woman and married her, after which Sheelin, who claimed to be both faerie and witch, damned his children and his children’s children. Her prophecy holds nothing good for the McKennas in our family.”

  “Surely you don’t believe in curses.”

  “An odd thing for you to say, Grace, considering the power of your touch.” Declan then decided to tell her something he rarely talked about. “My own mother died such a death. A mysterious fall when she was pregnant with me. She was already dead when the doctors took me from her womb. Da always held that against me. Or perhaps I should say between us.”

  Declan could sense Grace’s shock and something else. Something that made him uneasy.

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand what this has to do with me,” she said.

  “My heritage is to find sorrow in love, Grace. Should I act on my feelings, I would put my loved one in mortal danger.”

  “Is that why you left New Mexico?”

  Had she touched him, he would have thought she’d had a vision. “Her name was Lila Soto. When I realized I had deep feelings for her, I knew I had to protect her.”

  “So you love her.”

  “No. I mean, now I realize that I cared for her, had feelings for her, but no, she wasn’t the love of my life.”

  Grace opened and closed her mouth, then opened it again. “A-are you saying you love me?”

  “I’m saying I can’t love you. Won’t love you. I won’t destroy you.” The words left a bitter taste of untruth in his mouth. He might be able to control what he wanted the world to believe, but he knew what he felt. The untruth of it filled him with guilt. “If I had known what would happen, I would never have let things go as far as they did the other night. But we didn’t even know each other at the time.”

  “No, we didn’t.” She rose and backed off in a cloud of bewilderment and disappointment. “We still don’t—or I guess I don’t know you—so put your worries away, Declan McKenna. You’re not responsible for anything that happens to me tonight.”

  He reached for her but she avoided his hand. “Grace—”

  “I’ll call you later to confirm our plans. Have my bill ready. When this is over, I want to make sure we can make a clean break.”

  With that, she headed for the door.

  “Grace, wait!”

  She was already gone.

  Declan was hard-pressed not to go after her. A clean break. Like he’d done with Lila. Yes, that would be best, though the thought left him feeling bereft. Not yet, though. Not until this was finished and he knew that Grace was safe.

  Grace would cool down and then they would talk things through—he simply had to give her some time.

  SICK INSIDE, Grace decided not to return to Voodoo. Raphael undoubtedly wouldn’t guess what she had learned—she’d been able to smile in the face of adversity since she was a child—but she didn’t want to test herself right now. Not when her trust was so compromised.

  Stopping at a nearby café, she ordered chicory coffee, then called Raphael to excuse herself.

  “I’m afraid I have a family crisis to take care of, so I won’t be there this afternoon.”

  “This is not a good time…” He paused, and she thought he would object until he said, “but of course I understand.”

  “If I can get away earlier than I expect,” she said, purposely sounding reluctant, “I could come in later, perhaps sometime this evening.”

  “No! I have plans for the evening and will be tied up until very late.”

  Until midnight? Something was bothering
him. Good that he’d be gone. She could get into his apartment, then, and search it for evidence.

  “Tomorrow, then,” she said.

  About to flip her phone closed, Grace noticed she’d had a call from her brother a short while ago. It must have come through when she was someplace without reception. He’d left a voice mail.

  “Grace, I just got back from Baton Rouge. Mama filled me in on what’s happened to you. Some pervert is blackmailing you. Call me! I’ll be home for the rest of the day.”

  At least she wouldn’t have to tell her brother herself, Grace thought, flipping her cell closed. She didn’t want to discuss this on the phone, certainly not in a public place.

  The waitress brought her coffee and Grace thanked her and paid. But all the while her mind was elsewhere.

  Trust had always been an issue with her, ever since the Terrence/bra incident. She hadn’t trusted a man enough to chance her heart. She hadn’t even trusted her own family to support her. Corbett had trusted Naomi and look what she had done to him. And now Declan to her.

  How could Declan have kept everything he’d just told her to himself, especially after hiding the fact that he was psychic? Why couldn’t he have told her everything at once rather than hiding what most affected him?

  A family curse…a mother who’d died under mysterious circumstances…a woman he’d loved…

  He’d had the opportunity to tell her everything before, but he’d held back. And now he couldn’t, wouldn’t love her because of some ridiculous prophecy?

  Or was it really because of this Lila Soto?

  Grace had known Declan’s reason for leaving his home and family in New Mexico must have something to do with a woman. Obviously he still loved this Lila. If he’d only told her about the other woman before, she could have kept her feelings in check, saved herself grief.

  Who was she kidding? Declan had unlocked her—she’d had no choice in that or in anything else that had happened between them.

  Still, she should have known that Declan McKenna wasn’t for her…