"I can't talk about any case I'm investigating, Zane. Not even with you."
Zane's smile faded. "There was a time when you could tell me anything."
Not everything, she wanted to argue. She had never told him that she was a psychic in the PSI Division. As far as he knew, she was simply a CFBI agent. And that suited her just fine.
"I'll see you at dinner then," he said, standing.
She watched him go. She wanted to stop him, but she knew that doing so would only lead to her emotional destruction.
I'll deal with him later.
She rubbed her arm again.
Why does it ache so much?
18
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Ottawa, ON
Jasi awoke to the sound of running water.
Natassia's already in the shower.
That meant she didn't have to hurry to get out of bed.
With a groan, she rolled over. She wasn't ready to wake up. Not yet. She still had to shake away the night's grip on her consciousness. She'd had the strangest dreams and her head felt foggy.
Maybe I'm coming down with the flu.
She stretched her arms before opening her eyes. The first thing she saw was the ceiling of the hotel room. She shut her eyes again. At the same time, a door opened and she heard footsteps padding closer. She was about to ask Natassia to make coffee when she felt warm lips on hers.
Her eyes flared open. "What the―"
Zane stood over her, one hand leaning against the bed frame. Her gaze swept over him, taking in his tousled, wet hair and the towel that was slung low across his hips. A drop of water trickled down the side of his neck and rippled down the contours of his well-defined chest. She had a sudden urge to lick it off.
"Good morning, love," he said with his usual Australian charm. "Rise and shine. Breakfast will be here in about fifteen minutes. I have to pack for New York. When I get back, we can continue this."
Flustered, she sat up. The blanket slid into her lap and she gasped. "I'm naked!"
"And beautiful. Maybe I should join you."
"No!"
She scrambled out of bed, tripping over the clothes scattered across the room. She found her bra draped over a lampshade. Her blouse and pants were on the floor near the bathroom. She eyed the bed uneasily and flung back the covers. Her panties lay crumpled at the foot of the bed.
"Oh, shit."
Zane chuckled. "Something wrong, love?"
She gawked at him. "We didn't…"
"Oh, yes we did." His grin widened. "And we can do it a third time if you want."
Oh, Jesus…I had sex with him. Twice.
As she quickly dressed, memories flooded over her. The wine at dinner. More wine in Zane's room. His seductive voice, easing her into conversation, relaxing her completely. Her carefree, intoxicated mind urging her to surrender to him.
"What time is it, Zane?"
"Almost six-thirty."
"Damn!" She fastened the last button on her blouse and tugged on the jacket, mismatching the buttons in her haste to get dressed.
"What's the rush, Jasmine? Why don't we―"
"I have to get back to my room. I'm here on a case. Business, not pleasure." She let out a moan. "Oh, God. This didn't happen, Zane."
He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her. "But it did. We always were good together. You know that." He cupped her face between his hands and leaned close. "We can be good together again."
"No." She pulled away, her heart hammering. "I didn't want this. I'm over you, Zane Underhill."
He smiled confidently. With one quick tug, he whipped the towel from around his waist. "I'm not over you, Jasmine McLellan. I think that's rather obvious, don't you?"
She strode to the door, snatched up her purse and yanked the door open. "This was a mistake." She turned to face him, doing her best to ignore his perfect, golden Adonis body. "One I won't make it again."
Zane cocked his head. In a cool voice, he said, "You still want me, Jasmine. We're not done. Not by a long shot."
She stormed from the room and slammed the door behind her. Her breathing didn't slow until she was alone in the elevator heading for her floor.
"Jesus!" she muttered. "How stupid can you be?"
She'd be useless for about twenty-four hours. No psychic abilities. Sex always put them on hold. She'd have to face Ben, and he'd know immediately.
And he won't be happy.
Ben had been there after Zane had left her. He'd picked up the pieces of her shattered heart and helped her see that Zane was just not good enough for her. He'd told her numerous times that Zane Underhill was not the kind of guy to stick around.
Ben had been right. Yet, he'd never said, "Told you so."
Jasi pursed her lips and ran her fingers through her hair.
You should've learned the first time around, stupid.
She stepped from the elevator and brushed her sweaty hands against her thighs. If she was lucky, Natassia would still be sleeping and she'd be able to slip into their room, unnoticed.
But Lady Luck wasn't on her side today.
When she entered the hotel room, Natassia and Ben were waiting for her. They didn't look too happy.
"What's up?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
"We've been waiting for you," Ben said.
Natassia rolled her eyes. "I told him not to worry about you."
"Thank you," Jasi said. "Ben, I'm a big girl now."
"Who's here on a case," he added.
"Sorry. I stayed out a bit longer than I planned."
"A bit? You were gone all night."
She glanced from Natassia to Ben. "You haven't waited up for me all night, have you, Dad? I didn't think I needed to report to you where I'd be and for how long."
Ben sighed. "What you do on your own time is your business. You know that."
"Listen…" She sighed. "I'm sorry. I know you worry about me, Ben. But you don't have to. I'm a big girl now and I can take care of myself."
He watched her, his eyes narrowing. "So who were you out with?"
Jasi hesitated. If she told Ben the truth, she'd have to endure another lecture about why Zane wasn't the right guy for her. And she just couldn't take that right now.
"Yeah," Natassia said, grinning. "Tell us. Who's this mystery man?"
"Who said it was a man?" she quipped.
Ben stood, hands on hips, and cocked his head, waiting.
"Just an old friend, Ben. Nothing you have to worry about. I won't be seeing him again."
Ben gave her a hard look. His mouth curved into a frown. "Don't let this guy affect your work."
"I won't." She turned away, knowing that he suspected she'd done more than sleep. "Anything new on the case?"
"Prints came back from the Sampson residence," Natassia said, coming to her rescue. "No other prints except ours, Sampson's and his wife's."
Jasi flopped into a chair. She was frustrated by more than Zane Underhill. They needed a break, a clue, something to point them in the right direction.
"The evidence team did an X-Disc sweep," Ben said, sitting down across from her. "We're waiting on those results. We do know that there were no unusual footprints and no other obvious trace."
"So if someone went into Sampson's home," Jasi said, "they knew how to get in and out without leaving any evidence behind."
"If that's the case, our perp could be familiar with police procedure and evidence collection," Ben said.
Jasi leaned forward. "Any word on the blue binder?"
"It's still missing."
"Doesn't that seem odd to you?"
Ben nodded. "Makes me think there was something in it that someone wanted very badly."
"Badly enough to kill for," Jasi added, scanning a text message from Marilyn Winkler.
"Deirdre's back from Niagara Falls," she said. "She's at Winkler Manor right now. Marilyn suggests we come over and talk to her now."
Ben gave her a disapproving look. "Are you goi
ng like that?"
"No," she snapped. "I'll be ready in half an hour."
"Me too," Natassia said quickly. "I need to freshen up. We'll meet you in the lobby in thirty minutes."
"Fine," Ben said, heading out the door. "Half an hour."
Jasi grabbed some clothes and headed for the bathroom.
"You okay?" Natassia asked through the door.
"Yeah."
"You sure."
"I'm positive," Jasi said, a little too sharply. Am I okay?
Between Ben's inquisition and Natassia's concern, she felt like she'd dodged a bullet.
As she showered, she thought about her night with Zane. It was all coming back to her now, the warmth of his hands on her body, his mouth on hers.
How could I be so stupid?
She closed her eyes and let the water pound down on her head and body, washing away every physical trace of Zane. But it wasn't the physical she was so worried about.
She'd learned years ago that there was a heavy price to pay when she had sex. It drained her of every ounce of psychic energy and left her unable to do her job. Even if she walked into a still smoldering fire, she wouldn't be able to read it for about twenty-four hours. No matter how hard she tried.
"Damn you, Zane."
But it wasn't really his fault. He had no idea what he'd done. He didn't know what she was, what she could do. She'd never told him.
"You're an annoying snag, Zane Underhill. An obstacle I have to avoid at all cost."
She didn't need any more complications in her life. She'd have to learn to say 'no' to him. She could do that. She was a self-reliant woman now, not some sniveling girl who needed a man in her life to fulfill her.
As she stepped from the shower and pulled on a plush hotel robe, she glared at her reflection in the mirror.
"Just say no. How hard can that be?"
19
I covertly studied the CFBI agents as they gathered in the hotel lobby.
"They have no idea who they're messing with," I said beneath my breath.
My eyes followed Agent Jasmine McLellan as she approached the other two. She was a gorgeous woman. Sexy and smart. Too damned smart for her own good.
How much does she know?
The media was dutifully following Winkler's murder and the mystery surrounding Porter Sampson's disappearance and memory loss. But even those unscrupulous reporters had no idea what was really going on. My plan was in motion. Any deviation from the plan, like Winkler, would be taken care of. Permanently.
"Do you need some assistance?" a voice interrupted.
I turned and smiled in the direction of a young woman. Her polished nametag read 'Simone.' She stared back. She seemed nervous.
She should be.
My eyes traveled down to her V-neck blouse, then back up to her graceful neck. I could almost wrap one hand around that neck.
"I'm just leaving."
When I smiled at her, she smiled back.
Don't tempt me, my dear.
I watched her leave and caught sight of the predators that were hunting for me. They'll never catch me. I'm smarter than they are. I have control.
I grinned, recalling the look of horror on Monty Winkler's face when he had caught sight of the hypodermic needle in my hand. All those questions in his eyes. He didn't know he was one of my failures. Must have been awful knowing that he was going to die and not being able to move or do anything about it.
Poor Monty. He was shocked when I poured gasoline over him. The most satisfying part of that evening was lighting the match and tossing it into the dingy, before setting it adrift on the current.
I thought of Porter Sampson. It had almost worked with him.
"So close…"
I let out a frustrated sigh. Porter was a problem and that was a shame. All those months of work.
"Why are some so resistant?"
I thought of my other subjects, my converts, as I liked to think of them. Everything was going perfectly with them.
But I'm running out of time.
"Damn it! I needed Winkler and Sampson."
With the CFBI watching Sampson so closely, it would be hard to get close.
Shit. Sampson's a definite problem. I'll have to take care of him. The sooner, the better. Before he recalls something.
I glanced at the CFBI agents. They were going to be a problem.
"If so, I'll take care of them."
As I left the hotel, I thought of my plan. I smiled. There is justice in this world. As long as I carry it out myself.
Divine justice.
The irony made me laugh out loud.
20
Ben drove one SUV, while Jasi and Natassia took the other. That way they could interview Deirdre Dailey and get a look at Monty Winkler's will, then split up afterward if they got any good leads. It had been Jasi's idea. Kill two birds with one stone.
From the look on Marilyn Winkler's face, Jasi realized birds weren't the only thing in danger. The woman perched on the edge of the sofa, hands clasped in her lap, all the while scowling at her sister, who sat as far away as possible.
The file stated that Marilyn was almost forty-seven years old. That would put Deirdre at twenty-nine. It could be one reason for their obvious rivalry. Plus the younger woman was very pretty, not to mention model-thin.
Deirdre sat in the armchair, looking completely at ease. Her rich brown hair was sleek and freshly styled in a bob that was longer at the front, with a one-inch section on the right bleached to a pale blond. But her eyes were her best feature. Thickly lashed, they were a brilliant shade of green, far brighter than Jasi's.
"I had a sectional eye enhancement done," Deirdre said, catching her off guard. "My eyes used to be the same dirty brown as Marilyn's." She frowned in her sister's direction. "I wanted mine to be different. So I chose green."
Green, the color of jealousy, Jasi thought.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare."
Deirdre smiled. "I'm used to it. When I went for my SEE treatment everyone thought I was crazy."
A movement near a doorway caught Jasi's eye. James.
He hovered there, looking uncertain as to whether he should join them or walk away.
"James, be a dear and get us all a drink," Deirdre said, as if she were the lady of the house.
James glanced at Marilyn.
"Fine," she said. "I'll have a glass of lemonade."
"Rum and coke," Deirdre said without missing a beat.
"Isn't it a bit early for alcohol?" her sister asked dryly.
Deirdre shrugged. "I'm on holiday."
Marilyn turned to Jasi. "Would you care for a drink?"
"Nothing for me, thank you."
Ben and Natassia also declined and James left the room.
"Deirdre, you left the day before Monty disappeared," Ben began. "What prompted your sudden holiday?"
"I've been having a difficult time adapting to my father's death. And I've been overworked."
Marilyn let out a derisive snort.
"I decided to take off for a few days," Deirdre continued. "Is that a crime?"
"Someone murdered your brother-in-law," Jasi said. "That's a crime."
"I had nothing to do with that. I wasn't even here."
Absentmindedly, Deirdre pulled a pack of cigarettes from her purse. She caught her sister's disapproving look and smiled. "Marilyn is the perfect sister. She has no bad habits." The cigarettes went back in the purse.
Ben consulted his data-com. "We understand you work at Paragon with your sister."
"I'm in a different part of the building. The satellite research department. I rarely see Marilyn." She gave her sister a disparaging look. "She's too busy securing government contracts so she can study atmospheric deterioration."
"How would you categorize your relationship?"
"Marilyn's the boss. Just like Daddy wanted."
Ben leaned forward. "Your father passed away last year. Is that correct?"
"Passed away is a mild way to
put it," Marilyn interjected.
"Why do you say that?"
"He was killed in a boating accident, trying to repair the engine. It blew up. When the Coast Guard found him he was still alive. He was covered in burns. It was awful." Deirdre reached for a tissue. "He died a week later."
There was a moment of silence.
"I'm very sorry," Jasi said.
The woman shrugged. "What's done is done."
Jasi glanced at Ben, who gave a small nod.
"Mrs. Winkler," she began, "have you got a copy of your husband's will? I'm sure you're aware that we have a warrant for it."
"It's in Monty's office. I'll go get it. Excuse me."
When she was gone, Jasi turned back to Deirdre. "Is there anything you want to tell us about your relationship with Monty while your sister's out of the room?"
The woman shook her head. "Nothing I can think of. I was a bit troubled a few years ago. I'm sure my sister told you all about it."
"You mean the affair you lied about?"
"I'm not proud of that time in my life. I was angry at my sister. She seemed to have it all, while I had nothing." Deirdre smiled. "But I'm past that now. I'm very happy now."
"How was your relationship with Monty?"
"He forgave me. He was a great brother-in-law, very patient. Couldn't ask for better."
"Do you know Porter Sampson?"
Deirdre considered the name. "I don't think so. Was he a friend of Monty's?"
"You haven't heard about him in the news?"
"I rarely watch the news. Besides, I've been on holiday. Remember? I have more exciting things to do than watch the world crumble to pieces bit by bit."
Marilyn returned with James' briefcase, followed by James who carried a tray of beverages. He set the tray on the side table, while Marilyn placed the briefcase on the coffee table and sat down again.
"All of Monty's life insurance forms and his will are in here," James said, unlocking the case and withdrawing a folder. "The payout on the insurance policy is two million, to Marilyn."
Jasi eyed Marilyn. Her expression remained unchanged.
"That's a lot of money, Mrs. Winkler. You're not shocked."
"I already knew about it." The woman smiled tightly. "I didn't mention it before because I was afraid."
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