For Her Eyes Only

by Sharon Sala

  A wry grin spread across Noah Howell’s face. “Why am I not surprised.”

  Stone’s expression darkened. “Keep this quiet. I don’t want speculation to supercede facts.”

  “Of course.”

  Stone stepped back and the doors closed immediately, taking Noah to the floors above.

  A few minutes later, Stone slid into the seat of his car and then stared blindly out the window in disbelief. How had Jessica known this? She hit her head during the powerful storm that had crippled Grand Springs and now she’s having visions. And because she had, another, more serious problem dawned. In a way, she was witness to a murder. If word got out, she could be in danger herself. And with that thought came still another. Thinking of Jessie in danger made him sick with fear. He wiped a shaky hand across his face and closed his eyes, trying to remind himself that he had no claims on her other than the fact that she was just another innocent citizen he’d sworn to protect. But he kept remembering the way she laughed and the way she made love. As he broke out in a cold sweat, he groaned.

  “Damn it,” he muttered, “I don’t need this,” then he started the car and headed back to the station.

  He’d already decided he wasn’t saying anything to anyone but Sanderson until the autopsy report was in his hands. And he could just imagine how the chief was going to take the news. How does one tell the chief of police that some woman had a psychic vision and Stone had decided to act upon it? He shook his head. It sounded crazy, even to him.

  * * *

  Jessica was a morning person. Usually, she got up with a buoyant attitude that stayed with her through the rest of the day. But today, as she stepped out of the shower and glanced at herself in the mirror, she frowned.

  In spite of doctor’s orders, she had removed her bandage and washed her hair. Shoving back her ragged bangs, she turned her head, first one way, then another, looking intently at her wound before reaching for a towel. The way she looked at it, it was a toss-up as to which was worse—her homegrown haircut, or the bald spot that was sprouting new growth.

  “I don’t care,” she told herself as she dried. “I don’t have to go to work. Who’s going to see?”

  And then the phone rang. She dropped the towel and bolted, flopping across her bed as she reached for the phone beside her pillow.

  “Hello.”

  Stone’s voice rolled over her senses like warm honey on hot bread.

  “Jessie, it’s me.”

  In spite of the fact that she was safe from prying eyes, she instinctively reached for a sheet, then realized he wouldn’t know she was naked. An odd little smile came and went as she dropped the sheet and moved the phone a little closer to her mouth. It was a decadent feeling to be talking to this man without wearing a stitch.

  “I called to see how you were feeling,” Stone said.

  She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes. The air from an overhead fan was blow-drying the lingering moisture from her skin and she imagined that it was Stone’s breath instead. She was so into her fantasy that her nipples suddenly peaked and hardened as her body tightened with longing.

  She sighed. “I’m feeling fine. Just fine.”

  Stone frowned. She sounded strange, almost drugged.

  “Did I wake you?” he asked.

  She answered before she thought. “Oh, no. I’ve been up for ages. I just got out of the shower.”

  Stone gripped the receiver until his knuckles whitened, and he tried, without much success, to concentrate on something besides the thought of Jessica, wet and nude.

  “Uh—” Realizing that he’d totally lost focus as to why he’d called, he gave himself a mental kick in the butt and shifted the receiver to his other ear.

  Jessica was woman enough to hear Stone’s confusion. And just when she could have taken heart from the fact that he could be remembering their past, she edited her thought. Yes, a naked woman might do wonders in getting some attention from Stone, but what about one with a bald spot and stitches? Aware of the dampness beneath her head, she abandoned her fantasies and sat up.

  “Stone, hang on a minute, will you?” Without waiting for his answer, she dropped the phone and rolled off the bed to get a towel for her wet hair. It was dripping all over the bed.

  Moments later, she was back. “Thanks,” she said. “I was getting everything wet.”

  He groaned and covered his face with his hand.

  “Stone?”

  He jerked. At last. A reason to focus. “What?”

  “Was there a particular reason you called?”

  His mind was a blank, and then he remembered the autopsy in progress, and that he had wanted to warn her about talking to anyone other than him.

  “Oh! Yeah! Uh, you know yesterday, when we talked about what you saw?”

  She tensed and sat up.

  “Yes, what about it?”

  “You might have been right.”

  She’d known it, and yet hearing it said aloud gave her chills.

  “About Olivia and the needle?”

  “Yes, well—maybe yes about Olivia, maybe no—but you were right about my lost check. It was where you said it would be. And, I think you should know that they are performing an autopsy on Olivia Stuart. We’ll know more soon.”

  “Oh, Lord.”

  Stone heard her panic. And the fact that she’d been unable to come up with one of her colorful comments was proof of how rattled she must be.

  “Jessie, I need you to do something for me.”

  She felt sick to her stomach, and took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “Don’t talk about this to anyone else. At least, not until I tell you it’s all right.”

  “Why?”

  He had to tell her. Her life could be on the line.

  “Because, if you’re right, then that means Olivia was murdered. And if she was, then that means there’s a murderer who will be very unhappy to learn there was a witness…of sorts.”

  There were aspects of this mess that kept going from bad to worse. She started to shake.

  “But I’m not really a witness. At least not the kind that will help you solve the case. I saw Olivia being stabbed, but I never saw the woman’s face who did it.”

  Stone frowned. For some reason, he’d been expecting her to furnish recognition as to the attacker’s identity.

  “Then, how do you know it was a woman?” he asked.

  She closed her eyes, doing a mental playback of what she’d seen. “Because…”

  She paused, trying to focus. The hands. Those long, tapering fingers. And the polish. She was wearing red nail polish! Suddenly it dawned.

  “She was wearing nail polish. Red nail polish. And I think maybe perfume. Every time I see it happening, I smell gardenias.”

  Stone’s frown deepened. “What else, Jessie? Think.”

  “That’s all,” she said. “I didn’t see her face, I swear. My focus seemed to be entirely on Olivia.”

  “Okay, don’t worry about it,” Stone said. “The main thing is, keep what you saw to yourself.”

  Jessica nodded, and then remembered. Brenda! She’d told her sister, Brenda.

  “Uh, Stone…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Brenda knows.”

  His stomach tied itself into a miserable knot. “Damn.”

  She frowned. “Well, I had to tell someone, and she is my sister, remember?”

  In spite of the fact that no one could overhear their conversation, a flush heated his face as he glanced over at Stryker’s desk. The accusation in Jessie’s voice had been no accident. He’d dated one sister and made love to the other. It was a mess he could have never foreseen. But it was over two years ago. What he had to remember was to keep his personal life out of his job.

  “Okay, so she knows,” Stone said. “But tell her to keep her mouth shut about everything, okay?”

  If it hadn’t been so awful, Jessica might have laughed. “I already disappoin
t and embarrass her on a daily basis. There is no way she’s going to shoot off her mouth about what I said.”

  Stone spoke before he thought. “You’re wrong. I know she used to feel responsible for you, but you were never a burden.”

  Jessica was stunned. “But I’m a grown woman. I’m responsible for myself,” she muttered.

  “Maybe you are now,” Stone said quietly. “But when your parents died, you were what…seventeen?”

  Sudden tears burned Jessica’s eyes. “Just about,” she said softly.

  “Well, then, did you ever think that it might be difficult for her to change how she thinks a big sister should act?”

  Jessica was speechless.

  “Jessica?”

  She sniffed. “What?”

  “As soon as I know something final, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and hung up the phone.

  The quiet in her house seemed threatening. With a shaky sob, she rolled herself into a ball and pulled the sheet up over her shoulders. She would call Brenda, but later, when she would be able to talk without crying.

  * * *

  Jessica was on her knees in the dirt, pulling weeds from her flower bed when a car pulled into her driveway. She braced herself on one knee and turned to see Brenda getting out of the car. From the way she was dressed, she must have come straight from work. But it wasn’t what Brenda was wearing that concerned Jessica the most. It was the expression on her face. In that moment, Jessica thought, She knows about the autopsy.

  Jessica stood, and then pulled off her gloves and tossed them on the front porch step. Waving a hello, she tried hard to smile, but her chin quivered instead. Moments later, she was in Brenda’s arms.

  “Oh, honey.” It was all Brenda could think to say.

  “Stone called you, didn’t he?”

  Brenda stepped back and cupped her little sister’s face with her hands.

  “Yes, thank goodness, but it should have been you. Why didn’t you tell me, Jessie? I shouldn’t have had to hear this from him.”

  Jessica led her up the steps to the porch swing. “Want something to drink?” she asked as Brenda plopped down in the swing.

  Brenda caught her by the hand and pulled her down beside her in the seat.

  “I want you to talk to me.”

  Jessica sat down in a slump, staring at a swirl in the wood beneath her feet.

  “I already told you what I saw. You didn’t believe me then, why believe me now?”

  Guilt fell hard on Brenda Hanson’s shoulders as she looked at her baby sister’s face. The gamine features. The ragamuffin hair. That smudge of dirt on the side of her face. Mentally, she knew Jessie was a grown woman, but in her heart, she would forever see her sister as younger, and weaker, and waiting for someone to carry her over the rough spots in the road.

  “Be reasonable, Jessie. Would you have believed me if the situation had been reversed?”

  Jessica sighed, then looked up, grinning an apology. “Probably not.”

  “Then, am I forgiven?”

  Jessica threw her arms around her sister’s neck. “Of course, and I’m really glad you’re here.”

  Brenda returned the hug. “Get dressed. I’m taking you out to dinner.”

  Instinctively, Jessica’s hand went to her hair. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m pretty tired. Maybe we could just—”

  Brenda grinned. “Stuff the excuses, baby sister, and quit worrying about your hair. You know…in an odd, disheveled sort of manner, it suits you.”

  Jessica made a face and got up. “Where are you taking me?”

  “You get to pick,” Brenda said.

  “Oh, good. I’ve been hungry for Mexican food for days.”

  Brenda rolled her eyes. “Just what I need! You know I can’t resist that stuff, and those cheese enchiladas go straight to my thighs.”

  “You can diet tomorrow,” Jessica said, and headed for the house. “Make yourself at home. I won’t be long.”

  Brenda followed her inside, thankful that their relationship was back on level ground.

  * * *

  The autopsy report was in a folder near Stone’s left hand. The conference he and Jack Stryker had just had with the chief was still ringing in his ears. He’d already read the report. Not once, but twice. And even though he’d more or less prepared himself for the positive results, what Noah Howell told him had stunned him.

  Potassium. Olivia Stuart had been murdered with potassium. Enough to induce immediate cardiac arrest. They were guessing at least forty milliliters. And tracing it was going to be next to impossible, because it wasn’t a controlled drug. Hospitals didn’t even keep the stuff under lock and key.

  He kept staring at the folder, knowing he was going to have to give Jessie a call. This changed everything. He could no longer ignore the truth. Olivia Stuart had been murdered. And, as of fifteen minutes ago, there was an official investigation under way.

  Stone looked up as Stryker came out of the washroom, drying his hands. He glanced at Chang, who was on the phone at a nearby desk. Stryker had all the facts as Stone knew them, but Chang was a wild card in this mess. Jessie had talked to him first. Stone had to make sure that there had been no inadvertent leaks to the media about Jessica Hanson’s so-called powers. He waited until Chang hung up, and then walked over to his desk and tossed the folder containing the autopsy report in front of him.

  When the folder landed between his hands, Chang looked up, startled by the abrupt interruption to his work.

  “What’s the big deal?” he asked.

  Stone pointed. “See for yourself.”

  Chang opened the folder and started to read. Halfway down the page, he stiffened. When he had finished, he handed the file back to Stone.

  “Son of a gun! Who would have thought?” And then an odd, startled expression crossed his face.

  Stone tensed. Chang had remembered.

  “I want you to keep quiet about what you know,” Stone said.

  Chang stood up. “She was right, wasn’t she? But how could that be? How did she—?”

  “I don’t know,” Stone said. “And for that matter, neither does she. However, the fact remains that a woman was murdered, and, for all intents and purposes, Jessica Hanson is a witness.” He lowered his voice. “Which means…we keep quiet about how we found out. What matters now is finding out who did it—and why.”

  Chang shook his head. “I just didn’t believe her. It was such a far-fetched—”

  Stone interrupted. “Stryker and I have the case. I’d appreciate it if, for the time being, you forget everything Jessica Hanson told you. The less said about what’s happened, the better. We’ve already lost our mayor. We don’t need to put any more people in unnecessary danger, right?”

  Chang kept shaking his head as he dropped back in his chair. “I can’t believe it. Who would have thought?” And then he slapped the side of his head and groaned. “Oh, man!”

  “What’s wrong?” Stone asked.

  “This morning, I was at the doughnut shop, and Canfield and I were talking about all the weird things that have been happening since the storm.”

  Stone braced himself. Already, he knew what Chang was going to say. “Damn it, Erik. Tell me you didn’t blab it all over the place.”

  Chang’s shoulders slumped. “It was so far-fetched. How could I have known she was telling the truth?” He looked up. “I never said her name. I swear. All I said was some woman.”

  “Son of a—” Stone pivoted, resisting the urge to hit out, yet in a way, he also understood Chang’s reaction. He’d known Jessie Hanson for years. Hell, he’d even made love to her. And he’d doubted her, too. Well, the fat was in the fire, so to speak, and someone had to let Jessie know.

  “Hey, Stryker.”

  Jack looked up.

  “Want to take a ride?”

  Understanding dawned. “You going to see her?”

  Stone nodded.

  A slight smile crossed Stryker’s face. “S
omething tells me she’d rather hear it from you. Besides, I’m going to swing by the mayor’s house on my way home. They’ve already taped it off as a crime scene, although I hate to think of what valuable clues have been lost. I just hope to hell her cleaning lady was as delayed by the blackout as we’ve been.”

  Relieved that he was going to see Jessie alone, Stone added, “I’ll meet you there as soon as I’ve talked to Jessie.”

  Jack grinned. “I won’t hold my breath.”

  * * *

  “Well, for goodness’ sake,” Brenda said as they pulled into the driveway of Jessica’s home from their evening out. “Look! Someone’s here.”

  Stone’s wine-colored car looked black under the streetlights, but Jessica recognized it just the same. And when she saw him get up from her porch swing and start down the steps to meet them, she started to panic.

  “Why, isn’t that Stone Richardson?” Brenda asked.

  When Jessica didn’t answer, Brenda turned to tease. But the thought died as she saw Jessie’s expression.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  Jessica undid her seat belt and got out of the car without answering. Stone met her halfway.

  “It’s bad, isn’t it?” she asked.

  Stone nodded.

  Jessica covered her face with her hands and moaned. Brenda was there within moments, her voice trembling as she took Jessica in her arms.

  “Jessie, honey, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Stone answered for her. “Olivia Stuart was murdered. The autopsy report proved it without a doubt.”

  Brenda’s arms tightened around Jessica’s shoulders. She heard him, but she just couldn’t believe it. Even when Jessica had warned her what was taking place, she hadn’t really believed it would prove to be true.

  “Oh, my God,” Brenda whispered.

  Jessica tore free of her sister’s grasp and started toward her home. It didn’t make sense, but she had an overwhelming need to get inside. There, she’d be safe.

  Stone grabbed her as she started to run past him. His hands were firm upon her arms, but his voice was gentle as he did what he could to ease her panic.

  “Let me go!” Jessica cried.

  “Jessie, look at me,” Stone urged.