Tapestry of the Past

by Alvania Scarborough

  “Maybe because two years ago I wasn’t a threat.”

  He turned that over slowly in his mind. It made a kind of sense. As much as anything about this case made sense. “Why are you a threat now? Why not then?”

  “Maybe because no one would take me seriously then,” she suggested.

  “Or maybe,” Gabriel drawled, “someone has a reason to fear you might link him to that murder and the murder of Crump.”

  “If I can link him now, I could link him then,” she argued.

  “Not if he didn’t know of your first reporting.”

  “That means more than one person is involved,” she whispered, a fine trembling settling into her limbs.

  With a harsh expletive, Gabriel threw back the sheet. “Get dressed,” he ordered, pulling on a pair of jeans.

  “Where are we going?” Kalesia demanded, wrapping one of his shirts around her.

  Even now, some primal, animalistic part of him roared in satisfaction that, just as his shirt swamped her curvy form, so did his scent. Another part demanded her obedience. “To see Tom Harley. I said to get dressed.”

  “I am,” she snapped. “My clothes are in the other bedroom.” Kalesia marched out of the room, chin held high.

  “Well, hell,” Gabriel muttered in disgust buttoning the fly of his jeans swiftly. “And don’t be long,” he yelled after her. He slipped his arms in a sweatshirt. “Damn cat!” he roared as Hannibal took the opportunity to slither in the open door and attack his bare ankle.

  In the other room, Kalesia didn’t even try to restrain the grin that tugged at her lips when Gabriel’s yell echoed down the hallway. He really was going to have to do something about Hannibal—surrender came to mind.

  It was a short drive to Harley’s home. The house was dark.

  “Wouldn’t it be more polite to wait until morning?” Kalesia said, uneasily aware that she was the reason the major’s night was about to be disturbed. Again.

  “No.”

  And that was that. There was no arguing with Gabriel when he spoke in that tone. Kalesia trudged after him, more than willing to let him face Tom Harley first.

  “It’s three-damn-thirty in the morning.” Harley glared at Gabriel, his short hair spiking in all directions. “This had better be important.” Hand planted firmly on the edge of the front door, he lowered his voice and growled, “Make it fast, Gabe.”

  Gabriel pushed his way inside, dragging Kalesia along with him. She smiled a weak apology at the rumpled man as she slid past.

  “Someone on the force is dirty. I intend to find out who.”

  Gabriel’s words dropped like a rock in a river. Tom Harley did a slow double take and shut the door. “I think we’d better sit down.” He led the way into a comfortably furnished room and turned on a lamp. “Got any proof?”

  “Nothing written in blood—yet. I want him, Tom.”

  The even tone raised every hair on Kalesia’s body but Harley just raised a brow, waiting for Gabriel to elaborate. For the first time, she realized how alike the two men were.

  Gabriel passed the other man the packet containing the pictures and letter.

  Palms sweating, Kalesia watched as Tom skimmed the contents once and then once more, taking his time the second perusal.

  “Nasty bit of work.”

  “I don’t like it. Kalesia goes to you for help because of a vision of her own murder. She leads you to a murdered hit man. Then, a matter of days later, after we ask about a previously reported vision, she receives this. I think I know why.”

  “You suspect me?”

  Kalesia’s mouth went dry at the sudden tautness between the two men.

  “If I had, I wouldn’t have brought Kalesia with me.”

  Harley stared at Gabriel’s set expression for a minute longer and then relaxed. “It’s damn little to go on.”

  “I’m at my best with little to go on. How many times did you tell me that?”

  The corner of Harley’s mouth lifted in a small smile. “I remember. That’s why I sent her to you. I knew if anyone could protect her, you could. Okay.” With a quick glance down the hall, Harley heaved a sigh. “Let’s go over this again.”

  After discussing it from all angles, a half hour later Harley agreed, albeit unwillingly, to go along with Gabriel’s plan to leak false information to smoke out an informant.

  “If there is one,” Harley amended.

  Kalesia felt sorry for him. It was easy to see he hated to admit there could be a dirty cop on his force.

  “There is one.” Sure, cold, dangerous.

  Harley didn’t flinch. “Your plan is dangerous. Especially if someone in the department is on the take. Look, no matter how much care we take, it’s chancy to spread rumors that you think your government sold you out on your last mission and because of that you’ve sold your services to a South American cartel, just to see if that information gets back to Kalesia. It could very well stir up unanticipated complications.”

  “What complications?” Kalesia asked uneasily.

  “Like someone taking the opportunity to off Gabe and blame it on a drug war.”

  “No!” She whipped around. Chill bumps chased along the skin of her arms as she saw his savage grin of anticipation.

  “It’s supposed to stir up complications. That information fits right in with the rogue image created to scare Kalesia away. By tailoring the story to each person you tell, we can pinpoint the dirty cop.” Gabriel leaned forward, his expression intense. “It feels right, Tom. The bastard likes to hide in the background. Let others, like Crump, do his dirty work. You got to admit, it’s perfect. He won’t be able to resist the urge to make Kalesia bolt into the open. If he knows that much about me, he knows his only chance to get her without exposing himself, is if she leaves me.” His gaze became glacial. “Once we know who is feeding him information, I will find out who is behind the threat to Kalesia.”

  “I won’t break the law for you, Gabe,” Harley warned.

  “Won’t have to.”

  Fear and fury twisted her stomach into knots. “Tom, you can’t mean to go along with this insane plan! You and I both know Gabriel is setting himself up as the target. He’ll think Gabriel is onto him. He’ll have to take him out and you will have given him the perfect opening to get away with murder. Well, I won’t allow it.”

  “Hush, sugar. It’s the only way. Time is running out. I feel it. That packet to you is the only mistake he’s made so far. We need to push him.”

  She rounded on Tom. “You agree with this?”

  He nodded. “I do. Right now we don’t have a clue who the killer is.” Tom’s warm brown eyes hardened. “And I will not tolerate a dirty cop in my department.”

  Kalesia knew she was licked. There was no talking common sense into either man. But she didn’t like it. And when they got home, she’d make very sure Gabriel understood that. “One little scratch and I’ll have your hide, Gabriel Steele.” At Harley’s poorly concealed chuckle, she froze him with a frigid glare. “I promise this now, Tom Harley. You let him get hurt and I’ll peel the hide from your body and let the fire ants have what’s left.”

  She expected a smartass comment. Instead he studied her for a moment.

  “I promise that if it is within my power, I won’t let him get hurt.” His tone was almost gentle.

  Tears burned Kalesia’s eyes. Before they could fall, Harley flicked a quick glance down the hall.

  “If I agree to plant the information first thing in the morning, can I get back to bed?”

  Kalesia caught the sound of a faint rustle from the bedroom. She knew Gabriel had too, when a sardonic grin spread across his face.

  “You sent her to me,” he said. “Into every life a little chaos must fall. It’s only fair you experience the aftershocks too.”

  “Now is that any way for him to treat a friend?” Harley appealed to Kalesia. He turned back to Gabriel. “Bug off, I’ve got better things to do with my night, or rather, what’s left of it, than trade bar
bs with you.”

  They were trying to make her feel better, lighten the atmosphere. As much as she hated to admit it, it worked. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and frowned at both of them. “It’s impolite to insult a person as if she isn’t present.”

  Gabriel stood, hauling her up beside him with an easy strength. “She has a temper too.”

  “Goes with the hair,” Tom observed.

  “Tom,” Kalesia began, her voice a little too sweet, “go to bed.”

  “Bossy little thing, isn’t she.”

  Kalesia raised her voice, making sure it could be heard all the way down the hall. “But, Tom, she’ll have to find out sometime—mmf.” A hard hand clamped over her mouth. She bit it, hard. Gabriel yelped and snatched his hand away, sucking on the pad of flesh beneath his thumb. “What it’s like dating a dedicated officer of the law.” Kalesia stuck her tongue out at Tom’s horrified expression.

  Gabriel grabbed her arm and propelled her toward the front door.

  “I forgot to warn you,” he said over his shoulder, “witches fight dirty.”

  “‘Night, Tom,” Kalesia sang out as she was hustled outside.

  “Witch,” Gabriel muttered.

  “Who me?” She batted innocent green eyes at him. “What did I do?”

  Gabriel leaned down for a short, hard kiss. “Don’t act so modest. You know very well that you turned a hardened veteran into a nervous wreck. Talk about ruining a man’s love life,” Gabriel said with a heartfelt masculine sympathy that Kalesia thought entirely misplaced. “It’s a good thing they outlawed burning at the stake.”

  Kalesia sniffed. “Men, they can dish it out but they can’t take it.” She giggled, ruining the effect. “He did look as if he wanted to dig a hole and pull it in after him, didn’t he?”

  Once more back home and in bed, Kalesia sobered. “Gabriel?”

  “Hmm,” he mumbled, nearly asleep.

  “What happens if the story Tom plants doesn’t smoke out the killer?” She couldn’t keep the worry out of her voice.

  Gabriel fitted her body to his, closing both arms around her. “Then we’ll think of something else. He’s made one mistake. Sooner or later, he’ll make another.” Despite his confidence, she knew Gabriel recognized the fact they had to wait on the unknown assailant’s time schedule. He was too intelligent not to immediately realize the disadvantage in which that placed them.

  “But what if—”

  He nipped her ear. “Wrap your arms around me and tell me again that you love me.”

  * * * * *

  “My vision is different.” Kalesia dropped the comment with the subtlety of a nuclear warhead. She waited for the explosion.

  Gabriel snaked his head around. He had a smear of dirt on one cheek. “Different? How? When?”

  “Four days ago.” Kalesia kept her attention concentrated on the dark, rich potting soil as she transferred seedlings to bigger pots. They were in the largest greenhouse. At Gabriel’s urging, she was helping him this morning. Though he hadn’t said so, Kalesia figured her incessant pacing had driven him crazy. She couldn’t help it. Harley was going to plant the different versions of the story this morning. She wanted results now. Waiting, she was learning, was hell on the nerves.

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” he demanded silkily.

  “Because we were barely speaking. Because I wasn’t sure if you’d want to know.”

  The muscles in Gabriel’s throat worked. “I wanted to know.”

  She concentrated on packing the dirt around the raspberry sage seedling so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes. She hated knowing she’d hurt him. “I’m sorry.”

  With that silent tread that was so much a part of him, Gabriel moved until he was right beside her. One broad, battle-scarred hand, palm up, settled in front of her face. Her heart beat in her ears. Once. Twice. It was a hand that could wield a knife with deadly efficiency or cup the blossom of a crepe myrtle so gently he didn’t ruffle a petal. Kalesia placed her hand in his. It closed over hers and Gabriel pulled her to him. That same hand caught her chin on the edge of his palm. “You had reason.” This close she could see the threads of darker gray in the silver. Feel his heart beat against her.

  “It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. Even then, a part of me knew I could.” She pressed her forehead against his chest. Today, she was wearing her canvas sneakers so she didn’t even come up to his collarbone. His scent surrounded her, made her feel safe. “I was angry,” she confessed in a rush, “and wanted to punish you.” She’d felt betrayed.

  “I hurt you.”

  “No,” she denied, realizing it was the truth. “I hurt myself. I let a pack of anonymous lies come between us.”

  He curved his large hands over her shoulders and tried to move her back a bit. Kalesia wound her arms around his waist and refused to move. God, it was hard enough to admit her stupidity to herself. She couldn’t look him in the face, not in the bright, early morning light. It was so much easier last night.

  “But it wasn’t all lies, was it?”

  The lingering hint of pain propelled Kalesia out of hiding. “Gabriel! Don’t. You were doing your duty.”

  He laughed, a bitter sound that raked claws down her spine. “Duty.”

  “Yes,” she said, firmly. “Gabriel, listen to me. The picture he painted of you, of what you did, was a lie. I know that. A part of me knew it then. He took what you did and twisted it.” She could tell he didn’t agree.

  “How is your vision different?”

  Kalesia wanted to protest the abrupt change of subject. The remote expression on his face said argument was futile. “My death didn’t happen by the pond.” By sheer force of will, she kept her voice steady as she recanted the new vision of her murder. “It was odd, really. I have the impression it was inside a building. I’m not sure exactly but I think it was a barn. I remember seeing hay.” Depression lay in her chest like a lead sinker. It was even less to go on than before.

  “Were you still shot? Has that changed?”

  Although the new version of her death was, in many ways, less clear, the details less defined, almost out of focus, that fact remained the same. “I’m still shot. I still get the impression of an exit wound.” She shivered, a sense of helplessness washing over her. “What I don’t understand is why my vision changed. That’s never happened to me before.”

  He didn’t answer right away. “The only reason I can come up with is that my involvement has changed the equation somehow. Maybe in your original vision, I wasn’t a factor. Hell, I don’t claim to understand it but there’s a possibility that as long as I’m involved, what happens is in a constant state of flux. The trick is making it go the way we want.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Wolf, Sam and Badger returned to Gabriel’s house dead tired. Gabriel met them at the door. Arm outstretched across the entrance, Gabriel simply stared at Wolf. The other man stared back, a hint of wariness on his austere features.

  “Let him in, Gabriel,” Kalesia ordered, sounding exasperated. “You can’t hit a man because he was right.” Slipping under the barricade, she hurried out onto the small stoop and hugged Wolf. Gray eyes met gray eyes over her head. Wolf smiled faintly and held one hand out in a peace offering.

  Gabriel retrieved his woman, conscious of the other man’s quiet amusement at the gesture. Once she was safely ensconced under his wing, he shook the proffered hand.

  “I wasn’t going to hit Wolf because he was right,” Gabriel objected mildly. “I was going to deck him because of his method of achieving his objective.”

  “You always did hate being backed into a corner,” Wolf agreed.

  “Anything new, or did you just come back to bury the bodies?” Gabriel laced the question with mild sarcasm.

  “I found a few things of interest.” Wolf pushed past him and entered the house. In the living room, he dropped into a chair, exhaustion clearly written in the drooping line of his broad shoulders. He rubbed his face.

&
nbsp; Badger and Sam, following close behind, sank down onto the sofa and closed their eyes. Tired as they were, Gabriel knew they were listening to every word.

  “We have some news too.” He put his arm around Kalesia’s waist as she sat on the arm of his chair.

  Badger cracked opened one eye. “Yeah? Good or bad?”

  “Depends on your point of view. Someone knows enough about my past to twist it and use it against me. And he knew where to find Kalesia.”

  Wolf stretched his legs out in front of him with a groan. “I take it you two got things straightened out. She’s still here.”

  “She,” Kalesia said pointedly, “is still here because she finally remembered he was one of the good guys. I may be slow but I’m not stupid.”

  Wolf grinned, just a faint movement of his lips. “Never thought you were.”

  “Dirty cop?” Badger asked, ignoring the byplay to focus on the implications of Gabriel’s statement. “Damn, how the hell did that slip by us?”

  “Looks that way. There’s something else to be considered. The murderer not only knew where she was but got his hands on pictures and reports.”

  “Hell’s bells! That moth—”

  Gabriel aimed a frown at him.

  Badger’s mouth snapped shut and he looked sheepish. “That means the asshole has friends in high places.” He gave a “what?” look as Gabriel leveled a glare.

  Kalesia patted his thigh. “Don’t worry about it,” she whispered.

  Later, he resolved silently. He would have a little chat with Badger later.

  Wolf stacked his hands over his stomach, a thoughtful look on his face. “Or a well-placed partner.”

  “That would explain the lack of information I found,” Sam interjected. “Each alley seemed to turn into a dead end. I’ll be honest. I’ve never come across such a complete nonexistence of information. In today’s world, it’s damn near impossible to avoid leaving some sort of trail, paper or electronic.” He sounded disgruntled and betrayed by the absence of computer-generated footsteps.