For Her Eyes Only

by Sharon Sala

  Stone shrugged. “Who knows? At any rate, so far nothing has turned up on him through the system.”

  Stryker was glancing out across the crowd as Stone slipped his notebook back in his pocket and absently turned to check on Jessica’s progress. An immediate panic hit him and he groaned.

  “Oh, no.”

  Jack pivoted, following Stone’s gaze to focus on a gathering crowd up the block.

  “Wonder what that’s all about?”

  “It’s Jessie. I think they’ve got her cornered,” Stone said, and started to run.

  Like the good partner he was, Stryker was right behind him.

  * * *

  “Come on, Miss Hanson. All you have to do is pick some numbers out of the air.” Jessica tried to push past the man who was blocking her way and waving a paper beneath her nose.

  “Please, let me pass. I can’t see into the future, and even if I did, I wouldn’t be playing the lottery,” Jessica said.

  “We’ll split it fifty-fifty,” he persisted.

  She turned, frantically looking for an avenue of escape from the people who were gathering around her. All she could see were faces of strangers, coming closer—some smiling, some curious, some of them even seeming afraid of her. And yet they persisted, staring and pushing.

  A woman who appeared to be in her early twenties grabbed Jessica by the arm. “I’m a singer. I’m going to Nashville next week to cut a demo tape. Tell me, Miss Hanson. Am I going to be a star?”

  An elderly woman stepped out of the crowd. “My Tilly is lost. I’ve called and I’ve called but she hasn’t come home. Her name is Chantilly de Plume. Please, Miss Hanson, help me find my Tilly cat.”

  And then a man in a long, dark coat shoved his way into the small inner circle of space where she stood. His clothing reeked of filth. His pale eyes glittered; his hair was long and unkempt. Clutching a Bible to his chest, he pointed a gnarled finger at Jessica and started to shout. “Cursed is woman…spawn of the devil…temptress of Adam in the Garden of Eden.”

  It was all too much for Jessica to endure. She started to run, pushing past the man and his Bible and into the crowd. Voices rose and fell around her in a jumble of pleas and promises. Fingers clawed at her clothing and at her skin, as if by touch alone some of her magic might rub off on them. Just when she thought they would pull her under, she heard a rough voice and an angry shout. It was Stone!

  “Get back, all of you! Leave her the hell alone or I’ll put you all under arrest!”

  Jessica slumped against him as he slid his arm around her shoulders for support. With bulldog intent, he began moving her through the crowd. Behind them, she heard Jack Stryker ordering the people to disburse, reminding them they were at a funeral and not a fair.

  And suddenly they broke free of the mass and Jessica started to shake.

  “Hang in there, honey,” Stone said softly, and kept moving her down the block.

  She couldn’t speak. It was all she could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

  Stone kept his eye on her face all the way to her car. She was pale and trembling, and he was afraid to say more for fear she would burst into tears. And then they were there.

  “Jessie, give me your keys.”

  She opened her purse, but her hands were shaking. Her fingers trembled so badly she couldn’t grasp anything but air. In defeat, she handed Stone the purse.

  He thrust his hand inside and, seconds later, pulled out her keys and unlocked the car. In her haste to get inside, she almost bumped her head on the door.

  “Easy does it,” he warned, and protected her forehead with his hand as she sat, then dropped her purse in her lap as she was reaching for a seat belt.

  “Hurry,” Jessica whispered, glancing out the windshield with a near-frantic look.

  Stone slid behind the wheel and closed the door, shutting out the street noise and isolating themselves even further.

  “Jessie, are you—”

  Her voice was shaking, but the gaze she turned on him was wide-eyed and cold. “Take me home. I want to go home.”

  * * *

  This time when they reached her front door, he didn’t ask her for her key. He had it in his hand. The tumblers clicked, the lock turned, and the door swung open.

  Jessica stepped inside. Sanctuary! And for the first time since the ugly incident outside the church had begun, she felt a semblance of her sanity returning. Silently, she dropped her purse on the hall table and started down the hall when Stone’s voice stopped her intent.

  “Jessie, honey—”

  She turned around. If he hadn’t been so close, she might have made it to her room without coming undone. But his hand was on her arm, and there was a plea in his eyes she couldn’t ignore.

  Her chin trembled, and her lips began to quiver. Stone cursed once beneath his breath and took her in his arms. She inhaled swiftly, then exhaled on a sob.

  “Oh, Stone. Why? Why is this happening to me?”

  He lifted her off her feet and into his arms. He had no answers to give her, but she could have everything else of him that she wanted. Right now, denying himself or her was impossible.

  When he set her on her bed, she rolled to the middle and curled up in a ball. Although the day had been warm, she was shivering. Stone knew it was shock. He bent down and pulled off her shoes, then covered her with an afghan that had been lying at the foot of her bed. When she clutched at it in desperation and closed her eyes, his heart sank. If this didn’t drive her crazy, then nothing ever would.

  He glanced at the time. Jack would be along any minute to pick him up, but he didn’t want her to be alone. He thought of Brenda and started out of the room to make a call when Jessica called out to him.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “To make a couple of calls. I’ll be right—”

  “Don’t leave me.”

  She didn’t have to ask twice. He crawled into bed beside her and then rolled her, afghan and all, into his arms. She shivered and buried her nose against his chest. Long minutes passed, during which Jessica began to relax. Just when he thought that she might be falling asleep, she spoke.

  “Stone?”

  “What is it, honey?”

  “Oh, Stone.”

  The quiet pain in her voice broke his heart.

  He looked down, lightly brushing the ragged bangs from her forehead. His voice was as soft as the kiss he feathered across her brow.

  “Ah, Jessie, I’m so, so sorry.” And in that moment, he’d never been more honest with himself. He was sorry. For so many, many things.

  She looked up. Any minute now she was going to wake up and find out this was all a bad dream. Things like this didn’t happen to people like her. She was an accountant. She was supposed to be keeping track of other people’s money, not their fates. And here she was, lying in the arms of the man of her dreams, and it was for all the wrong reasons.

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  His eyes darkened and a frown creased his forehead. “Jessie, in all honesty, the last two years have been lonely without you, but I don’t want to be part of your regret.”

  She touched the side of his face, feeling the strength in his jaw and the tension in a muscle jerking beneath her fingertips.

  “Then, what do you want, Stone Richardson? Tell me. I need something to get past all this hell. Is there a magic word I don’t know?”

  He inhaled slowly as his mouth brushed the surface of her lips.

  “You want magic? Then, Jessie Leigh, all you have to do is say please.”

  She put her arms around his neck.

  His lips trailed the side of her cheek, then downward, following the path of her heartbeat as it raced throughout her body. When he paused at the base of her throat, nipping at her skin with the edge of his teeth, she gasped and then sighed. And when he tossed the afghan aside, covering her with himself, she moaned.

  “Stone. Oh, Stone.”

  He lifted his head, staring straight into her
eyes.

  “Say it,” he begged. “Say it, Jessie.”

  She was shaking, but this time, not from shock or fear. It was need that was making her come undone. She cupped the back of his head with her hands, urging him to come closer. He didn’t need a second invitation.

  “Stone…”

  “What, honey?”

  “Please.”

  He said something soft beneath his breath that she didn’t understand, and then she was lost to everything but the man above her.

  The weight of his body was like an anchor to keep her from flying away. Sensations came, one after the other, filling her heart and her mind: the touch of his hand upon her face, the sweep of his mouth across her brow—beneath the lobe of her ear, upon her lips. The sweep of his breath against her eyelids was only less enticing than knowing and feeling how much he wanted to make love to her.

  There was no thought, no hesitation, no sense of shame or guilt within either of them that could stop what was about to happen. There was nothing to stop them…except a knock on the door.

  And it came, rudely shattering the moment between them. Stone tore his mouth from Jessie’s lips and buried his face against her neck with a groan. Through one long, shuddering breath after the other, he held her until his heart ceased the race and hit a normal rhythm.

  The knock sounded again. This time louder.

  “Damn,” he said softly.

  Jessica covered her face with her hands as he rolled off her body. All she could think was how close they’d come to losing total control.

  At the doorway, he stopped, unable to leave her this way.

  “Jessie, don’t. For God’s sake, don’t be ashamed.”

  She sat up on the side of the bed, then started straightening her clothes and smoothing her hair.

  “Shame has nothing to do with it,” she said shortly. “That’s probably your partner. You’d better answer the door before he knocks it down.”

  Stone walked out, muttering beneath his breath. This wasn’t the first time she’d come undone in his arms, but visions of his life with Naomi were starting to haunt him. He lived with too many memories of the fights they’d had, and all because he was a cop and she couldn’t cope. He groaned. Dear God, please don’t let this be happening again.

  Stone opened the door. It was Stryker, and he had Jessie’s sister in tow.

  “I met her coming out of the church on the way back to the car. Figured your girl might need some TLC,” Jack said.

  Stone wondered if he looked as startled as he felt. He’d intended to call Brenda himself, but not in the middle of making love to her sister.

  “Is she okay?” Jack asked.

  “She will be,” Stone said.

  Jack nodded. “Then, I’ll be in the car when you’re ready to go.”

  “Just give me a couple of minutes,” Stone said. “I need to talk to Brenda before I leave.”

  Brenda stepped in, shutting the door behind her. For several moments, they looked at each other in total silence. Finally, Brenda’s lips firmed.

  “I appreciate the fact that you seem to keep showing up just when Jessie needs you most.”

  Stone sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Why do I think there’s a but coming next?”

  She folded her hands in front of her and fixed Stone with a cool stare. “Maybe because you’re such a good detective?”

  A slight grin lifted a corner of his mouth. “Come on, Brenda. Spit it out. You didn’t used to be hesitant—about anything.”

  She flushed slightly but held her ground. “Well now, that was years ago, wasn’t it? And we all had our quirks and hang-ups back then.”

  This time, it was Stone’s turn to flush. “Score one for you, kiddo.”

  Brenda relented slightly. “I’m not shooting for scores. I’m only concerned now because Jessie is my sister and I’m all she’s got.”

  And that’s all my fault. If Jessie had her way, we’d be together.

  “I’ve got to ask this,” she said.

  He shrugged. “I have nothing to hide.”

  “Are you over Naomi?”

  “Not only yes, but hell, yes,” Stone said shortly.

  Brenda wanted to relax, but that was only half of what she needed to know.

  “Good. You’re whole and healed. But that doesn’t tell me where your intentions toward Jessie are going.” She held up her hand before he could speak. “Don’t answer that, because it’s not really my business. All I’m asking is, just please don’t hurt her.” Then the expression on Brenda’s face lightened as Jessica came into the room.

  “Jessie, I—”

  Jessica paused, looking at Brenda without expression. “Oh, it’s you,” she mumbled, and looked away.

  Brenda frowned. This cold, casual woman wasn’t the Jessie she knew. She glanced at Jessica and then at Stone, then back again, wondering exactly what she had interrupted.

  “Look,” she said. “If I’ve come at a bad time, just say so and I’ll be gone, but you knew—”

  Jessica laughed, an abrupt burst of sound that held no joy. “Sister, dear, today has been hell. So if you came to say ‘I told you so,’ then I suggest you save it for another day.”

  She started into the kitchen, when Stone grabbed her arm. His grip was firm, but the tone of his voice was even firmer.

  “Damn it, Jessie, just cut the bull. No one hates what’s been happening to you worse than we do, so don’t take your frustration out on us. We’re here for you, not to take you apart.”

  She flinched, unable to meet his gaze. He continued as if she was paying attention.

  “Now that Brenda’s here, I’d better get back to work. However, I will come by tonight to check on you, so if you want something in between time, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

  She glanced up, a wary, waiting look on her face. “You don’t have to bother, you know.”

  He smiled, and Jessica shuddered.

  “Oh, but I do,” Stone said softly. “There’s some unfinished business between us, and I’m not much good at sleeping when I’ve left something undone.”

  Before she could object, he bent down and pulled her into his arms. The kiss was brief, but there was nothing friendly about it. It held a hint of warning, as well as promise. And when he turned her loose, he didn’t look back.

  “Brenda…it was good to see you again,” Stone said. “Lock the door behind me.”

  Without thinking, she did as he ordered. When he was gone, she turned toward Jessie with a look of determination.

  “Sit yourself down, baby sister. I have many questions to ask you and I want answers now.”

  “As long as you don’t ask me to look into your future, you’ve got yourself a deal,” Jessica muttered, and dropped into a nearby chair in defeat.

  * * *

  It was almost time to call the day quits when Stone pulled up in front of the precinct.

  “I’ll start the paperwork,” Stryker said. “You go talk to the chief.”

  “Thanks a lot,” Stone said. “And what do I tell him? We don’t know a damn thing more about the mayor’s murder than we did this morning.”

  Jack grinned. “Then, I guess that’s what you’ll say.”

  Stone cursed beneath his breath. “Some partner you are. Just get your butt out of my car.”

  Stryker laughed. “See you upstairs.”

  Stone pulled around the side of the building to the parking lot, locking the car as he got out. His mind was in turmoil as he sifted through the events of the day. The only ongoing connection to Olivia Stuart’s murder was the town’s growing suspicion that Jessica Hanson knew more than she should about someone’s death. In fact, the people of Grand Springs were giving Jessie far too much credit for far too many things. All Stone knew was that Jessie was lucky as hell that she could prove where she’d been while Olivia was being stabbed with a needle full of poison. His hand was on the door when a man stepped in front of him, impeding his progress.

  “Just a
minute, Richardson. I want to talk to you.”

  Stone stifled what he’d been about to say. Granted Hal Stuart seemed rude, but considering the kind of day the man had had, Stone was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  “Sure thing, Hal,” Stone said. “Want to come inside?”

  Hal glanced at his watch and then shook his head. “No. Besides, what I want to know won’t take long.”

  There was something about Hal’s manner that still didn’t sit right with Stone, but he let the thought slide.

  “How can I help you?” Stone asked.

  Hal’s face was tight with anger, his eyes glittering dangerously. “I want to know if there’s any truth to the gossip I’ve been hearing about my mother’s death.”

  Stone flinched. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “What have you heard?”

  “That Jessica Hanson claims she had some sort of psychic vision and saw my mother being murdered. Now, if that’s so, then why isn’t someone in custody?”

  Stone glanced around. “Look, Hal, why don’t you come inside where we can—”

  Hal was shaking with anger. “Don’t give me the runaround,” he said. “This is my mother we’re talking about. I want some answers, and I want them now!”

  “Okay, then, I’ll tell you what I know. Yes, we were alerted to the fact that your mother’s death might not have been natural. And, while that proved true, there is little else we know that will help toward the apprehension of the killer.”

  Hal wouldn’t let up. “Was it Jessica Hanson? Is it true what I’ve been hearing?”

  Stone hid his frustration. “I don’t know what you’ve been hearing, but I can tell you that it was Jessica, and while she claims to have seen your mother being attacked, she did not ever see the killer’s face. All she saw in her vision was someone shoving a hypodermic needle in the back of your mother’s leg.”

  Hal winced, and then paled.

  “Sorry,” Stone said. “But you asked for the truth.”

  It seemed as if all the fight went out of Hal at once. He slumped against the building and covered his face with his hands.

  “My God,” he muttered. “This is hell! Pure hell! Today I buried my mother, and the investigation into her death was spawned from some psychic’s vision! I feel like I’m caught in the ‘Twilight Zone.’”