Intuition

by Carol Ericson

  He murmured against her lips. “Mmm, you taste good, like sweet and spice and no regrets at all.”

  “And you taste like…heaven.”

  He grinned and settled her back on her feet. “Sweetheart, I’m the bad boy of Coral Cove, remember? I think you’re confusing up and down.”

  “Can you blame me? Do you always sweep a girl off her feet when you kiss her?”

  “I can’t remember kissing any other girl.”

  She pushed at his solid chest. “You’re very adept at the art of flirtation.”

  “I’m very adept at the art of truth.” He blew out a warm breath that caressed her cheek and then landed a hard kiss on her mouth. “We need to talk when this case is over.”

  “If this case is ever over.” She jerked her chin toward her mother’s abandoned house. “We need some answers.”

  And how was that supposed to happen when she had the warm imprint of Matt’s kisses on her lips?

  The pounding in her head, which had receded when Matt had taken her in his arms, returned full force when she turned her attention to the house. She took a step back, tripping over a rock on the side of what passed as a driveway.

  Matt steadied her. “Do you have a way to get inside?”

  She dug into the pocket of her jeans and curled her fingers around a key. She held it out, balanced on the palm of her hand. “I had this made at the time of Mom’s death, but didn’t have the courage to use it.”

  “Do you want me to wait out here?”

  She didn’t, but with Matt hovering nearby sending out those sexy vibes, she’d never get what she came for—communication with Mom.

  “Please. If you don’t mind.”

  “Do what you need to do. Just be careful.”

  Kylie took another step forward and hesitated. This house had always welcomed her in the past. When she’d graduated from high school and moved away, her visits back to this house when Mom was alive, although not always filled with happiness, had felt right and welcoming. Now some evil aura enveloped the house.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Matt’s voice made her jump.

  “I’m not sure. Something feels off.”

  “Leave it, Kylie. Forget about your mother’s involvement with Bree. The girl went to her to hear about her love life, and your mom delivered what she wanted to hear. Your mother had nothing to feel guilty about, but if she did—” he spread his hands “—there’s nothing you can do about it now.”

  She looked at the house over her shoulder and shivered. She couldn’t keep running away, no matter how unpleasant.

  “I’m sure once I get inside, it will be fine.”

  She stalked toward the house, her sneakers crunching the dirt and gravel. Matt had drawn up next to her, his gaze searching the face of the house, the two windows in the front staring back at them blankly.

  With the key held in front of her, Kylie walked up the two steps to the door and inserted the key.

  It slipped in with ease and she cranked the door handle. She started to give the door a shove, with her foot against its base.

  Matt bellowed behind her. “Back off, Kylie. Run!”

  She whirled around, stumbling down the two steps. But she didn’t have to run. A blast from inside the house propelled her forward and airborne.

  Chapter Eleven

  The heat from the blast penetrated Matt’s skin as it tossed him backward through the air. Kylie’s body tumbled past him and he stretched out his arms to cushion her landing. But she flew beyond his reach.

  He hit the ground with a thump and immediately began scrabbling across the uneven ground to where Kylie’s inert form had landed.

  The blaze from the house crackled behind him and another explosion rocked the ground.

  He reached Kylie and scooped her up in his arms. On his knees and clutching Kylie to his chest, he hobbled away from the blazing inferno.

  When he’d reached a clearing several yards away from the house, he lay Kylie on the ground and bent over her, placing a hand on her chest. It rose and fell beneath his palm and he blew out a pent-up, acrid breath.

  “Kylie, can you hear me?”

  She moaned and her lids fluttered.

  “Hang on. You’re going to be okay.”

  At least her breathing sounded normal and she didn’t have any burns that he could see, although the ends of her hair were singed.

  He kept talking to her while he pulled his cell phone from the front pocket of his jeans. He punched in 911 and gave their location and the situation, even though he didn’t understand the situation himself.

  Kylie groaned again and opened her eyes. Her gaze wandered past his face and her limbs jerked and flailed.

  “It’s okay. You’re safe now.” He gathered her against his chest and stroked her hair, the crispy ends breaking off in his hand.

  She coughed, bunching his T-shirt in her fists.

  “Are you hurt anywhere? Are you burned?” The T-shirt covering her back had little holes in it, and he rolled the material up to inspect her skin. Red dots sprinkled her back, matching the holes in her shirt, but the rest of her flesh was smooth and unscathed.

  “No.” She croaked and cleared her throat. “My face.”

  He held her away from him and swept a swath of dark hair from the right side of her face. Angry red scratches and road rash marred her smooth cheek, and Matt’s gut lurched.

  “Looks like you landed face-first. You’re going to be okay. How’s your breathing?”

  She sucked in a breath. “Okay. Wind knocked out of me.”

  Sirens wailed down the hill as black smoke continued to rise from the wreckage of the house. The emergency vehicles would have no trouble finding them.

  Kylie touched her face and winced. “What happened, Matt? What did you see before I opened that door?”

  “A wire.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Someone rigged the house to explode when the door opened.”

  * * *

  DR. AMES HELD OUT a tube of ointment to Matt. “This is for the little burns on her back. It will help them heal faster.”

  Kylie waved her hands. “Dr. Ames, I’m right here.”

  “I know, but you’ve had a shock.”

  “He had a shock, too.” She wiggled her fingers toward Matt. “Look at his eyebrows.”

  Matt grabbed a hand mirror from the table next to the bed where Kylie was sitting. He waggled his singed brows up and down. “I could start a new trend.”

  The doctor tapped the side of Kylie’s face with the tip of his gloved finger. “Don’t bandage this. Let it breathe. Reapply the antibiotic cream about three to four times a day and when it stops stinging, rub in a little vitamin E oil. There shouldn’t be any scarring.” He entered a few notes on his laptop and peered over the top at Matt. “And you’re okay?”

  “Flew through the air backward and landed on my rear end. Other than a sore tailbone and some unintentional eyebrow grooming, I’m fine.”

  “Then you’re both free to go.” He snapped the laptop closed and nodded at the nurse. “Are the police done questioning you?”

  “I think so.” Matt shot a glance at Kylie. “I’m not sure we’re done questioning them.”

  “Did I hear right? A house was rigged to explode?”

  “That’s what it looks like.”

  “Crazy.” The doctor shook his head. “Kylie didn’t have any signs of a concussion, but keep your eye on her.”

  “I’ll do that.” Matt squeezed Kylie’s knee.

  When they got out to the hospital parking lot, Matt eyed his bike, which he’d ridden behind the ambulance to the hospital. “Are you sure you’re okay to ride on the back?”

  “I’m fine.” She unhooked the helmet from the back. “You heard the doc—no sign of concussion, a few burns on my back, road rash on my face, and hair in desperate need of a trim, but other than that, I’m fine.”

  Matt climbed on the bike and held it still while Kylie slid on behind him. When she had her arms secu
rely around his waist, he turned his head. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew there was something wrong with the house before you walked up those steps.”

  “I sensed the evil, but I didn’t know where it was coming from.”

  “It’s coming from everywhere, Kylie. It’s all around.”

  Thirty minutes later Matt fluffed up the pillows on Kylie’s bed. “Lean back and relax. I put your cell phone, remote for the TV, water, burn ointment and ibuprofen on the bedside table. Did I forget anything?”

  Kylie sank back against the pillows. “Just don’t forget your civility when you talk to Harlan Sloan.”

  “If I see any hint from him that he had anything to do with the explosion, all bets are off.”

  “I don’t get how Harlan Sloan would know anything about my mother or her house.”

  “Connect the dots. Sloan and Bree were friendly and Bree consulted your mom at her house. This is a small town, people know you, people know me.”

  Kylie squeezed her eyes closed. “Someone is desperate to stop this investigation.”

  “Is it enough to stop you?” Matt sat on the edge of Kylie’s bed, hoping it was. “I’m sure if you told Mrs. Harris the job was endangering your life, she’d understand. I’d understand.”

  “It’s had the opposite effect.” Kylie swept the tube of ointment from the nightstand and smoothed her finger along the outside of it. “The threats on my life mean Bree’s killer is still here, and I’m going to find him. My mom couldn’t help Bree, so I’m going to make up for that.”

  “And I’ll be right by your side. Maybe we both have something to prove.”

  Tilting her head, Kylie parted her lips, but before she could ask any questions, Matt chucked her under the chin. “Don’t open the door for anyone, not even the connecting door, which I locked. I have the key to your room, and I’ll come straight back here when I’m done with Sloan. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Got it.” She saluted him.

  When Matt got to the door, he turned. “Hate to disturb you when you’re all comfy, but come and put the chain on the door after I leave.”

  Kylie scooted off the bed and padded to the door where he was waiting. Matt laid a quick kiss on her mouth before stepping into the corridor and shutting the door. He waited until he heard the chain slide and then took off for his meeting with Harlan Sloan.

  The elevator stopped on the way down, and Kenny joined him, clutching a room service tray in his hands.

  “Hey, man, we heard about the explosion on Cressy Road. That’s messed up. Is your friend okay?”

  “She’s fine.” Matt punched the button for the lobby. “How’d you hear about it?”

  “Are you kidding?” Kenny’s eyes bugged out of his sockets. “I thought you grew up here. Small-town people know what you ate for breakfast, they’re going to know about a house exploding.”

  “You have a point.” So everyone probably already knew that Kylie was Rose Grant’s daughter and had the same psychic powers as her mother, and that she was here investigating Bree’s disappearance. That’s all anyone had to know.

  “Kenny, do you know Eric Evans, the chief’s son?”

  “Yeah, I know him. He’s back in town for the Rockapalooza.”

  And that’s all Matt had to know. Thank God for small towns and small-town gossip.

  When he walked into the lobby bar, he spotted Sloan at a small table, talking on his phone and making notes on a legal pad.

  Matt pulled out the chair across from him, but Sloan didn’t even look up.

  The cocktail waitress delivered two beers to a table in the other corner and then sashayed over to Matt. “Can I get you something?”

  “I’ll take a beer, anything on tap.”

  She tapped the rim of Sloan’s empty martini glass and mouthed, “Another?”

  Sloan nodded and then ended his call.

  “Sorry about that, Conner. Business.”

  “And business is good?”

  “I’m organizing two more music festivals in the next few months—taking advantage of the good weather while we still have it.”

  “Business wasn’t so good for you after Bree Harris disappeared from the Coral Cove Music Festival.”

  Sloan leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “That kind of tragedy always has a negative impact. The real businessmen behind these shows and the insurance carriers tend to be leery when a show garners bad publicity.”

  “You call a young woman’s disappearance bad publicity?”

  “And you call it opportunity.” Sloan hunched over the table. “Cut to the chase, Conner. What have you heard about me and Bree Harris?”

  “I heard you were friendly, and I heard she was obsessed.”

  The waitress set down their drinks and a bowl of some sort of mix of peanuts and pretzels.

  Sloan plucked the toothpick lined with olives out of his glass and slid the first one off with his teeth. “That’s accurate.”

  “How friendly is friendly?”

  “We had an affair. Is that what you want to hear?”

  “Must’ve been brief. Bree was here for only a few weeks.”

  “It was.” Sloan sipped his martini and closed his eyes. “Young women are always interested in men with power…I’m sure you’ve experienced that yourself, Conner.”

  Matt’s pulse jumped. Looked like Sloan had done some investigating of his own.

  “So you took advantage of your position?”

  “I’m not going to lie. I always took advantage of my position. Young, beautiful women were always throwing themselves at me, and Bree Harris was no exception.” He shrugged. “They used me, too. They wanted free tickets, backstage passes, introductions to the bands.”

  “But Bree wanted more.”

  “Foolish girl.” For the first time since Matt had met the man, Sloan’s face softened. “She fancied herself in love.”

  “She knew you were married?”

  “I never lie to the women who come into my life. Can you say the same…Detective?”

  Matt’s fingers tightened around the handle of his beer mug. “We’re here to discuss you, Sloan.”

  “Bree knew I was married, and I’d made it clear to her that I had no intention of changing my marital status.”

  “But she wouldn’t leave it alone, wouldn’t leave you alone.”

  “That’s correct. I knew it would end when I left town and went on to my next gig. I didn’t need to kill her to end the relationship.”

  “Unless she’d threatened to tell your wife.”

  Beads of sweat broke out on Sloan’s high forehead and he mopped them with a cocktail napkin. “Bree was of legal age, but she was just a kid. She’d never make good on a threat like that.”

  “But she made the threat.”

  “Women say a lot of crazy things, Detective.”

  Matt clenched his jaw. “And your wife’s claims of domestic violence?”

  The cold eyes got colder. “Like I said, Detective, women say a lot of crazy things.”

  “What about that text from your cell phone to Bree?”

  “Someone stole my phone to text her. Whether it was the killer or not, who knows? I had an alibi for that time and it satisfied the police.”

  Sloan downed the rest of his martini and slipped his phone in his pocket. “I’ve told you all I’m going to tell you. It’s opening day tomorrow, and I have to get back to work.”

  Matt let him go without a fight. If Sloan had denied the affair, he would’ve looked guiltier. Sloan knew Matt had the goods on him, so of course he’d cop to the affair with Bree.

  Sloan had the goods on him, too.

  Matt dug into the peanut mix and popped a handful into his mouth. While he was chewing, Toby dropped into the vacant chair across from him.

  “I saw you talking to Harlan Sloan. He’s a slimy SOB.”

  “Is he still hooking up with the local girls?”

  “Oh, yeah. It’s not because he’s a great guy or anything. They j
ust want the perks he can give them.”

  Matt sipped his beer. Sounded like jealousy. “I saw Kenny in the elevator. He said Eric Evans is back in town. Do you know him?”

  “Everyone knows Eric.”

  “He was acquainted with Bree, too?”

  Toby’s face sported two red spots. “I don’t know about that. Eric’s an okay dude. Did Kenny say that?”

  “No.” Matt pointed to a man in a black vest waving by the bar. “Is that your boss? I think he wants you back at work.”

  Toby grunted. “Can’t have a few minutes’ break. Heard about the explosion at Rosie Grant’s old house. Hope your friend’s okay.”

  “She’s fine, thanks. I don’t know why this town insists on allowing these old houses to stand vacant. Same with that Columbella House. They should tag it and tear it down.”

  “No way.” Toby’s blue eyes kindled. “The house is a landmark for this town. How many coastal towns have a haunted house like that?”

  “It’s an eyesore.” He smacked the table. “Looks like your boss is about to have a fit.”

  Toby glanced over his shoulder. “Well, I hope Kylie feels better. Sounds like she needs to be careful.”

  You have no idea.

  * * *

  THE KNOCK ON THE DOOR startled Kylie from her drowsy reverie in front of the TV. What did Matt say? He had the room key and he’d call her before he came up.

  She slid her phone from the bedside table and checked for messages—none.

  The door handle turned and the door yanked against the chain.

  With her heart pounding, Kylie called out. “Who’s there?”

  The door slammed shut, and Kylie jumped from the bed. She laid her palms against the door. If she opened this door right now, she might come face-to-face with the person threatening her. But he might be waiting for her with a weapon.

  She pressed her ear against the door. The chattering of maids slowed her heart rate a few more beats per minute. She gripped the handle of the door with a clammy hand and turned it. She poked her head into the hallway. A hotel maid was leaning on a cleaning cart, her head turned as she chattered with someone in Matt’s room.