"You. Here. At this crime scene. Why are you here?"
"I'm working," I snapped.
"Sorry. It's just... dammit, Cassie, he's a cop. For his own partner to cuff him? This isn't good."
"How is this my fault?"
"It's not. God, no. I didn't mean for it to come out like that. It's just... I don't know what to do here. Half of me wants to smooth this over, the other half wants me to turn him over to Logan."
I cringed. "That wouldn't be a good idea."
I turned around to look at my partner. He was talking with Kevin, but I could tell from the pleased look on his face that he was listening.
Shaking my head, I turned back to Ethan. "You need to smooth this over. He came out of the back room and saw a strange woman entering a crime scene. People were talking to him, and then yelling."
"He pulled a gun," Ethan said. "Of course they were going to yell."
"Was it an overreaction? Yes. One hundred percent agree with you. Maybe some therapy, administrative leave or something is in order. Take his gun away, yes, but I don't think he should be arrested."
"What happens isn't up to me. You know that, right?"
"I know, but if it comes from you, it's going to be better than coming from his partner," I said.
"Are your people going to go along with this?"
"I'm not saying all of them will be happy about it, but with the extenuating circumstances, they'll want to make sure this doesn't become a big issue."
"Want to describe some of those circumstances?" Ethan asked.
Chapter 6
I glanced at Logan and shook my head. “There’s nothing I can tell you. Nothing that makes any sense anyway.”
"Right,” Ethan said. “Anything we need to know about the crime scene?"
"Not that I am aware of. We haven't been here that long."
"But why are you here, today, at this house?" Ethan asked.
"You know I can't answer that," I said, not looking at him.
"Fair enough, but you're sure you don’t want to press charges?” Ethan asked. “This isn’t something you’re doing just because it would work best for the agency.”
"Positive."
"Right.” Ethan looked around, appearing to take in the scene again. “We'll do what we can."
Ethan called Kevin over and I left to join Logan.
After his conversation with Ethan, Kevin looked like a weight had been lifted.
"Would you ever arrest me?" I asked Logan.
"I've cuffed you before, but arrest? Depends on what fool thing you were doing and your reason for doing it," Logan said.
"And if you didn't know the reason?"
"I could ask you the same question," Logan said.
"Me arrest you?" I had to hide my chuckle as Ethan let Ron out of the back of the police cruiser. "I don't ever see that happening. I'd trust that you had a reason for what you were doing. Unless you weren't yourself, of course. I guess that's possible in our line of work."
"It is at that," Logan said. "Let's get inside and see if we can help Mr. Palmer."
"Sure thing," I said, glad to have the whole mess behind me.
In the house we started picking up the mess in the front room. It wasn’t long before Ethan knocked on the still open door.
“Cassie, can I see you for a few minutes?” Ethan asked, not entering the residence.
“Sure,” I said, setting a framed picture back on a shelf.
Ethan walked into the front yard, well away from the front door, and I followed. It was a relief to see that the other officers were already gone.
“Is everything…“
Ethan cut me off by wrapping his arms around me and squeezing me in a tight hug. After a moment of surprise passed, I returned the gesture. Time ticked by, but he didn’t seem inclined to talk yet and I was enjoying the closeness.
He had been at another crime scene earlier in the morning, and then he walked into this one. It hadn’t been a great day for him.
Ethen let out a breath and loosened his hold on me. “Sorry, I needed to get that out of the way before I went back inside.”
“You didn’t hear me complaining,” I said. After having a gun pointed at me, I’m sure I needed the reassurance as much as he did. “You’re going back inside?”
“Kevin was about to wrap things up, but I want to make sure nothing was overlooked. He also mentioned that you all aren’t taking the case.”
I could hear the question in his voice. “Yep, it’s yours. We’re here to help clean-up.”
“Well, I wanted to check in with you before I spoke with Mr. Palmer, but I need to get back to the station.”
“I appreciate that.” I clutched him closer for a moment before stepping away.
Ethan spoke to Mr. Palmer for a few minutes before leaving.
Logan and I helped Mr. Palmer get the house back in order. Vast improvements had been made by the time Mrs. Palmer got back, but there was still a long way to go. We ordered food for everyone, but after six o’clock, I think the Palmer's were ready to be done for the day. At least done with us.
We drove out to my house to call everything in to Hank. It had taken us a while to decide whether to provide a report, or phone in the details. Turns out, we ended up doing both. I called and started with the update on the Palmers, then went over the details. Hank was agitated that we hadn't spoken to him earlier, but he had to admit in the end that nothing had actually happened. The fact that the Path didn't open and that the soul shard took over, I kept to myself. After Logan's concern earlier in the day, I didn't even tell him that the Path didn't open.
Logan went home and I finished the write-up on the day. Then I left to run Gran's errand. The sun was starting to set, so I high-tailed it over to the address. She had insisted I get there before dark. There was still light in the sky when I drove up, so I guess that counted.
It was a cute white house. When I walked up the front steps, I noticed two rocking chairs on the gray painted front porch. There was a cheerful wreath of flowers on the door.
When I knocked on the door and there was no answer, I started having doubts. Maybe they had left for the night already. I should have gotten a more specific time from Gran.
After knocking again, I heard a rattling noise inside. It looked like I hadn't missed them after all. The rocking chair on the front porch creaked as it started to rock. I got a chill that worked against the warm weather.
The noise inside stopped. Feeling creeped out, I thought about leaving the present at the front door, or maybe sliding it into the mailbox. Then I realized I was being paranoid. It was a friend of Gran's, not someone ready to pounce on me.
Still, I hesitated before I knocked again. The second my knuckles hit the wood of the door, it opened. The creaking of the rocking chair stopped as well.
"Can I help you?" The man was a little taller than I was and a good many years older. He was dressed up as if he were going out for the evening.
"I'm sorry to stop by so late. I'm here to drop something off to you?" I didn't mean for it to sound like a question, but the man's eyes were a piercing blue and he didn't appear to blink.
Looking at the package, a grin broke out over his face. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. The smile seemed too wide for his face.
"Did Margaret send you?" he asked.
"She did." I held out the wrapped box.
"Please, you must come in," the man said.
Gooseflesh broke out over my arms. No way was that going to happen.
"Sorry, I need to be somewhere," I said, gesturing with the package for him to take it.
His cold fingers wrapped around my wrist while his other hand covered the box I was holding. He didn't hold me tightly, but when I tried to step back, the grip was solid.
"Are you sure I can't offer you a drink or something for your trouble?"
"Um, no. I have a friend waiting for me."
Warning bells were going off in my head. I felt almost the same sense of fear
I had experienced earlier in the day when the gun was pointed at me.
The deathly-cold hands were still on mine, but the apprehension died away. It was Gran's friend. Sure, he was creepy, but in the dim evening light, anyone can look scary.
The man's grin faded slightly, which was a relief. He looked almost normal this way.
"If you're sure," he said and let go, taking the package.
"It was nice meeting you," I said, trying to be polite, but his eyes were glued to the box. He drew back inside and shut the door.
I stood there for a moment. When the rocking chair creaked and started moving again, I jumped. Telling myself over and over that an old man and a breeze didn't freak me out, wasn't doing the trick. It felt like hairs were rising on the back of my neck so I took the porch steps two at a time and hurried to my car. When I had driven a block away the feeling of being watched began to die away.
It was starting to get late, so I didn't call Gran on the way home. I'm not sure what my mother's sleeping schedule was, but while I was growing up she had always been very upset with any calls late in the evening.
Company, in the form of Vincent, met me when I parked in the driveway.
"Hi," I said while getting out of the car, "everything okay?"
He had been leaning against the wall by our front door.
"I thought we should talk," Vincent said.
Inwardly, I groaned. I was beginning to hate that phrase.
"If this is about today, I'd really rather not," I said.
Vincent looked confused. "What happened today?"
"Huh, come on in." I unlocked the door and went inside. Gran's cat took one look at me before he hissed and fled the room.
"Where's Margaret tonight?" Vincent asked.
"She's staying at my mom's house for a few days while my mother is on vacation.” I led Vincent into the kitchen. "Have you had dinner?" I flipped on the lights and headed straight for the fridge.
"I'm good," Vincent said.
The doorbell rang. I frowned and looked at Vincent. "Is Rider stopping by?"
Vincent shook his head. "Want me to get it?"
"No, I will. I'll be right back." The unusual events of the day flooded through my mind in a rush, but I worked hard to push them back.
I peered out the front window and saw Ethan's car in the driveway. My heart fluttered, and I grinned before opening the door.
"Hi," I said. "Come on in."
"I wanted to stop by and check in on you after today," Ethan said, stepping inside.
"You didn't have to do that," I said. I don't think you could have pried the smile off my face. "Thank you, though. Have you had dinner?"
"I couldn't eat anything after today," Ethan said.
"Something to drink then?"
"Sure," he said, with the first hint of a smile.
"Did everything get smoothed over?" I asked on the way through the living room.
"Yeah, how about on your end?"
"They were a little miffed we didn't report it right away, but everything is good."
As I entered the kitchen, I could feel the tension from Vincent.
"How's Logan taking it?" Ethan asked, and then stopped when he saw Vincent.
I looked back, "Uh, Ethan, you remember Vincent from yesterday."
Ethan stiffened. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you had company."
"It’s no problem, have a seat," I said.
Then two men looked at each other and awkwardness circulated through the room.
"Um, something to drink?" I asked.
"I should go," Vincent said.
"Uh, if you want. I'll see you out. Ethan, I'll only be a moment."
I walked Vincent to the door. He looked like he was struggling to say something. Or maybe to keep from saying something.
"You don't have to go," I said.
"It's much better if I do. But Cass, what happened today?"
"Oh, it was nothing. A little mix up over at the Palmers."
"You know you're a bad liar," Vincent said. The corners of his lips turned up slightly. "Everything okay though?"
"Yep." The moment the word left my mouth I regretted it. To my own ears, it sounded like I was trying too hard.
"Right." Vincent shook his head and looked across the living room as though he could see Ethan through the walls.
The air stirred between us as though charged. It was either his mood or mine. Vincent looked down at me, searching my eyes for something.
Maybe he was searching for himself. That little piece of his soul he had left inside me when he returned my own. Well, he gave back as much as he could.
Vincent tore his eyes away. "I'll call you tomorrow."
"Sure," I said softly.
He left without another word.
I stared for a moment before locking the door and returning to the kitchen.
"Sorry if I interrupted something," Ethan said.
"You didn't," I said, trying to reassure him.
"We never talked about... I mean, I never asked..." Ethan trailed off.
"What?" I asked.
"Are you seeing anyone else?"
I sucked at these conversations. "I'm not seeing anyone else." I tried to give him a smile. Now that he said the words, I wondered if he was seeing someone besides me.
My heart felt like it was being squeezed waiting for him to say something more.
He smiled, but it wasn't a strong one. "Does that mean we're still on for tomorrow?"
"I hope so," I said. "What do you have planned for us?"
"There's an art exhibition in the park by the University. I thought you might be interested. Although, I do have several backup alternatives."
"That sounds great," I said. Growing up in this area, I was somewhat familiar with the event and knew it would be fun. There were even a few Lost that attended. It would be nice to see their work.
Still, in the back of my mind, I wondered why he didn't say if he was seeing anyone else, but I wasn't able to bring myself to ask.
"Do, you want that drink?" I asked.
"Rain check." There was a tightness in the corner of his eyes.
"Are you sure?” I asked.
"It's been a busy week."
I nodded. "I heard about the other victim today. Are the cases related?"
"Too early to tell. Between you and me, it looks like they're connected."
"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.
"No, I really wanted to check on you, though." He moved closer to me and took one of my hands. "I still can't believe someone almost shot you today." He put his hand on my cheek.
The warmth and feel of his hands made my insides turn to goo. I could see the concern in his eyes and wanted to find a way to relieve his stress.
"I'm fine," I said. "If you always think about things that might have happened, you'll drive yourself crazy."
He grinned and wrapped his arms around me, tugged me into a kiss. I breathed the outdoorsy scent of Ethan deeply. There was a cedar smell along with an enticing scent that I couldn't quite place. Too soon, he pulled his lips away. I looked up into his eyes and saw a spark there.
Then he was kissing me again. Harder this time. I dragged him as close to me as possible. Soon our bodies were crushed tightly together, which gave me a good feel for what was on Ethan's mind. My heart beat faster and his breathing increased. Then I could sense his hesitation.
His grip loosened and I let mine relax with it, but with reluctance. He drew his head back a fraction of an inch, then closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to mine.
We stood quietly while our racing hearts slowed.
"I should go," he murmured.
I bit my lip. "You don't have to."
"What would your grandmother say?" Ethan asked.
"Oh, she's gone for a few days. House sitting."
Ethan grinned, and for the first time all evening, it reached his eyes.
"What?" I asked, not being able to stop smiling back at him.
"I j
ust thought that it's not all bad to think of things that could happen." He kissed me again.
When we broke apart, I said, "You're right, I can see where it's not all bad."
"I forgot to mention this earlier since I had other things on my mind, but you should know that I'm not seeing anyone else. And I don't plan to."
"That's good to hear," I said. Something inside me felt like it became untangled.
Chapter 7
Ethan didn't spend the night, but he didn't rush home either. Our days hadn't been great, but we had the chance to end the night on a happier note, and we took it.
Despite feeling content after I let Ethan out and went to bed, nightmares wove in and out of my dreams. I chalked it up to job related unease. At least it got me out of bed early. By the time I was up and moving, I heard someone downstairs. It sounded like Logan was ready for an early start to the day as well.
Caffeine was a necessity, so I headed straight to the kitchen. When I walked in, I stopped dead in my tracks. The chairs in the kitchen were back away from the table. Far away.
"Logan?" I called.
No answer.
"Gran?" I listened to the silence. "Anyone?"
Crap. My eyes darted around everywhere, and I stepped back out of the room. The living room appeared to be empty. The only noise I heard was my heart thumping wildly in my chest and my blood rushing through my skull.
Picking up my gun first thing in the morning wasn't second nature. Half the time on the job, I didn't even use it. Most of our assignments only called for tranquilizer darts. Luckily though, picking up my phone was second nature. I took it out and called Logan.
"Howdy," Logan answered.
"Have you been to the house today? Or last night?"
"No," Logan replied. He dropped the cowboy twang in a hurry.
"The kids?"
"No. What’s going on?"
I turned and dashed up the stairs, intent on getting to my gun. "I'm not sure, what—"
Halfway up, a force slammed into me, throwing me backward down the stairs. Grabbing the banister on the way down broke my fall some, but not enough. Pain radiated from my side, hips, and butt, all of which hit hard at some point on the way down.
Fear pulsed through my system and I ripped into the Path. I had expected resistance. When it opened easily, the crushing deluge broke over me.
Stolen Sight (AIR Book 3) Page 5