a Touch of Ice

by L. j. Charles

  “Drugged? I didn’t see that.” A chill shivered under my skin and I cradled my hands around the warm cup of tea.

  Violet’s hand closed over my wrist in a comforting squeeze. “He’s under police guard tonight, so we can’t see him until tomorrow.”

  My eyes caught hers, held. “You’re sure he’s okay?”

  “I’m sure.”

  My mind started to clear out from under the rubble of emotion. “Why did Adam—” I waved my hands around, then stilled them— “whoever. How did this detective know to come and see you?”

  I wasn’t processing information fast enough. Bottom line: I wanted to see Mitch. Needed to see him. Now.

  “When Stone notified Jayne Hunt, she explained about hiring me and our trip out to Mitch’s house.” Violet scraped her chair back, standing.

  “I think the Cary PD talked to the sheriff’s department and the Raleigh PD, and then they all started putting two and two together. They wanted to question me.”

  “Oh? How’d that go?” I tugged my hair back from my face and, holding it in my fist, glanced around. Not a clip in sight.

  “Fine,” she said, adding a leisurely shrug. “I’d planned to have a chat with them anyway.”

  “Yeah. I remember.” I let go of my hair to take a sip of tea. It fell around my cheeks, offering a protection of sorts. “You talked to Jayne?”

  “Yes. Didn’t mention you. Also there was her car to deal with. Detective Stone had one of the uniforms drop him off at my place so he could drive the Murano to the hospital.”

  I nodded, absently. “Totally forgot about the car.”

  “Jayne didn’t. Came up with the plan so we didn’t have to do musical cars. And this way she could leave Mitch’s truck at the hospital so it’d be ready for him when he’s released.”

  “He shouldn’t be driving,” I said, worrying my bottom lip. “At least she didn’t leave the bike.”

  “Not up to us, El. Jayne’s family.”

  I took another swallow of tea and really looked at Violet. Noticed the dark circles and lines of exhaustion around her eyes and mouth. “You need to get some rest.”

  She stood up, scrubbed her hands over her face. “Yeah.”

  “Just…before you go. You said that detective didn’t ask anything about me?”

  “No. And you know I wouldn’t say anything without talking to you first.”

  “Thanks.” Some of the tension left my shoulders.

  Violet nodded. “Even Adam would have a hard time with your ESP fingers.”

  “Adam? You keep calling him Adam. You know this detective well enough to call him by his first name?”

  The lines around Violet’s eyes and mouth deepened, almost to a smile. “Yes. We work together once in a while when one of my cases bumps into one of his. He’s a good detective.”

  “Okay then.” I felt a little drained and shaky as the adrenaline rush subsided, made a half-hearted attempt to smile. “Go home, get some rest. We can talk about this tomorrow morning before we see our respective clients. Are you in the office or out?”

  “I’m in. You?”

  “In. Don’t remember my exact schedule, except client S has an emergency appointment.”

  She hooked her shoulders up around her ears, let them drop. “You’re right that I need sleep, but are you going to be okay? El, you’re not going to do anything crazy are you? Looks like there’s a bit of wild animal lurking behind your eyes.”

  “I’m okay. Not planning anything…at all.” Not a lie. Yet. But no way in hell was I going to sit in that rocking chair and let life pass without some serious active input on my part.

  “Right, then.” Violet dropped her arm around my shoulder for a quick hug, and then headed downstairs. “I’ll lock your office door on my way out.”

  I pushed the cup of cold tea aside while I pondered the beginning of a totally irrational plan. I needed to do something. It was a mantra in my head and it wouldn’t stop. An acute case of the twitchies told me I needed to…touch something. My new rule of thumb—always follow the twitchies.

  I rinsed out the cups and teapot, my mind running through a to-do list.

  Who knew if the cops were protecting Mitch, or if they suspected him of offing his friend? If I could get my hands on…something, I might get a lead on Shaved Head, Pudgy, and Messy. Help prove Mitch’s innocence.

  I wandered down the hall, into my bedroom, and opened the closet door. There on the top shelf in the back—black leggings, black turtleneck, and black ball cap complete with pointy ears. I’d used the outfit a few years back when Violet dared me to dress up as Catwoman for Halloween. Even went to the trouble of locating Catwoman candy and trading cards to pass out. Now all I needed were black socks and sneakers, both readily available. Had to love my closet organizer at times like this.

  The outfit wasn’t exactly regulation spy wear, but it felt right. Perfect for my debut as a career felon, pointy ears and all. I checked myself out in the full-length mirror, head to toe and back again. More adorable than dangerous, and maybe a little bit naughty, except I could see my knees shaking. A confidence builder it was not. Whatever, it was past time to get my knees under control and continue on my path of crime.

  When I rapped on Violet’s door she didn’t answer. No surprise there. I turned over the gnome that guards her entrance, and two keys tumbled out—mine and hers. We’ve always kept our spare keys in the same gnome, more confusing for burglars. My theory, not Violet’s. I figured the extra thirty seconds would give me time to hit nine-one-one, or run, or both.

  I bounced the keys in my palm. No time like the present to begin a new career in illegal entry. Selecting her key, I let myself in, then replaced it in the gnome and closed the door behind me. On my way to find Violet, I detoured through the kitchen to grab a peach from the bowl on the counter and a napkin from the table. Another new rule: never enter a life of crime on an empty stomach. I followed the sound of the shower to Violet’s master bathroom, sat on her bed and waited.

  Personally, I would have screamed loud and long if I found an intruder sitting on my bed. Not that it was my plan to scare her, it’s just that there was this itty bitty part of me that needed to have the upper hand—to build my confidence.

  When she stepped out of the shower her eyes dilated and she swore at me with the full vehemence of her five-foot-four body. It wasn’t pretty, but then I’d pushed her well beyond her limit. She wrapped herself in a towel, took the half-eaten peach out of my hand, and finished it in two bites. “Go away. I’ll be down in a minute.” The woman had nerves of steel. Good to know considering what we were about to do.

  Eight

  “Break into the vic’s house? Surely I didn’t hear you say that?” The air around us shimmered with Violet’s agitation. Her eyes held the look of jagged beach glass, capable of cutting deeply and leaving a bloody trail. She rounded on me. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

  This was impressive. Who knew Violet could do angry with so much enthusiasm?

  Her eyes narrowed down to threatening slits. “Are you on something? Fall down the stairs and hit your head?”

  She thrashed around, pacing, waving her arms, as complex series of expressions wrinkled her face and tightened her lips. Probably trying to find a way out of the alternate universe I’d dropped her in.

  I hated watching her struggle, so I kept talking. “I did some thinking after you left. Couldn’t seem to get my mind off Mitch’s situation. You know the abduct—”

  “I know. Get on with it.” There wasn’t a smidgeon of patience in her voice.

  “We, make that I, don’t have a choice. I have to touch the space Tony lived in, and believe me when I say I’m not thrilled with that plan.”

  The silence was deafening. I backpedaled. “It’s all right. You don’t have to do anything. I can do it by myself and if you’ll give me Tony’s address—” I held up my hand when she opened her mouth— “don’t bother pretending you didn’t get it from Jayne. I can h
andle this on my own since it’s my idea. I have to do this, Violet. Have. To.”

  She sat and dropped her head in her hands. It took a minute, but she looked up at me with calm, clear eyes. Pretty amazing that she could move from the mother of all mads into icy calm that fast. Something to keep in mind if I planned to continue springing things like this on her.

  Her voice was steady. “Tell me exactly why you think you have to do this.”

  “If I had a logical reason,” I said, scrunching up my face, “I probably wouldn’t be doing it. No, this is more like a compulsion. You know, like I don’t have a choice.”

  “You’ve said that.”

  The more I tried to explain, the worse it got. It didn’t make sense. Even to me, it didn’t make sense. Finally, I settled on the obvious. “It must have happened when he kissed me.”

  Violet didn’t say anything, didn’t even ask about the kiss, so I continued. “I’m going to follow my gut on this. Have to. I’m the one—” I hooked my thumb toward my chest— “who walks around trying not to touch anything, and I need to do this. I’m going to break into someone’s home, someone who’s been murdered, for the sole purpose of touching his stuff.”

  Violet didn’t say a word.

  I ran my tongue along my lips while I thought. “So, bottom line, I’ve temporarily lost my mind. It happens to the best of us. Hand over the address.”

  She looked me over. “Catwoman. Halloween.”

  I smiled, remembering when she talked me into buying the costume. “Your dare. Breaking into Tony’s, that one’s all mine.”

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re on.”

  The Bobbsey Twins dressed in black and ready to roll. What more could I say about our exit from everyday life into the dark and twisty world of crime?

  “Let’s move.” Violet settled into the driver’s seat of her black (naturally) Acura sedan.

  “I’m ready.” Who was I kidding?

  Laughter danced in her eyes. “This is the worst idea either of us has ever had in the six years we’ve known each other, but if I hang around the house any longer, Jayne is sure to call for a report on why Mitch was abducted. Honestly, I don’t have a thing to tell her. She’s into late night calls, and escape is the only answer.”

  I choked on a bubble of laughter. So not graceful. “You could just turn your phone off.”

  “No. I’ve tried. Can’t fall asleep with it off.” She shifted her hips, fingers tapping a fast beat on the steering wheel.

  “Seriously? Where’d that come from?”

  She shrugged. “It’s just a thing I have.”

  Time to change the subject. “So, where does Tony live?” I asked, trying to get my mind out of Violet’s quirkiness and back on the task at hand.

  “Over on the North Side, shouldn’t take too long to get there since its Sunday night and rainy. No one wants to be out.”

  As we sped along I-40, I worked on the best way to ask Violet if she knew how to break and enter. Not wanting to insult her by implying that she didn’t have the skill, or maybe it would be worse to assume that she did—what’s a girl to do?—I tried a question. “You have any ideas how to gain access without setting off an alarm?”

  “I’m pretty good with illegal entry, but you didn’t hear that if anyone asks.” Her grin showed a perfect row of pearly white teeth.

  In the back of my mind there was a thought rolling around about the secrets friends keep from each other. Secret desires, wishes… private stuff. Even so, what came out of my mouth next surprised the heck out of me. “Will you teach me how to do that?”

  My question hung in the air between us. And there it was again, for all to see, words coming out of my mouth that had not passed through my brain.

  Violet was cool, not even bothering to glance in my direction. “And why would you want to acquire this particular skill?”

  “So if I get locked out of my house I can get back in without calling a locksmith.” Would she accept such a lame statement? Not a chance.

  Her fingers were tapping on the steering wheel again. “You want to be able to do this without involving me. What’s up? What aren’t you telling me? There’s no way I’m going to open that door for you without a damn good explanation.”

  “You’re right, and if I had a rational explanation I would be more than happy to tell you. It’s an uncomfortable feeling prickling around the base of my spine. You know the pri—”

  “We’ve covered prickly.”

  “Right.” I wrinkled my nose thinking it might help my brain find an acceptable answer. Maybe the truth would be good here. “I know this isn’t the end of my involvement in Tony’s death and Mitch’s disappearance. More like the beginning. It’s making me twitchy, like I’m suddenly the only person determined to find the truth about Tony. And I’m scared.”

  The fear that’d been waking me up in the wee hours of the morning was in full force, telling me I was on the right track. “Why can’t the universe find a way to communicate that doesn’t make my knees turn into gummy worms?”

  Violet had circled the block while I chattered, and chose a parking place in a hotel lot. She turned the engine off, pocketed the keys, and focused those cat eyes on me. “I use a lot of intuition in my work. Nothing like what you do, but I have serious respect for the prickly feeling. Against my better judgment, I’m going to help you tonight. Future criminal activities, including lock picking, are not open for discussion. Situations like this come into my life occasionally, not often. Most of my work can be done with a computer and casual questioning, sometimes surveillance. I prefer to leave murder to the homicide detectives who know what they’re doing.”

  Violet dragged in a weighty breath, and I quickly filled the space. “Now what?”

  She did a palms up toward the back of the parking lot. “Tony’s house is just on the other side of that hedge. The street was quiet when we drove by, no cars, dogs, or curious neighbors in sight. We’re going to ease through the hedge, cross the lawn, and enter through his back door. She reached in a bag on her back seat and pulled out a couple of hospital type shoe covers. I really wanted to ask why she had them at the ready, but any questions at this stage could be fatal to the operation. She slapped the booties against my arm. “Put these on before you walk in. Follow me and listen to that subconscious wisdom of yours. Let’s hope it keeps us out of trouble.”

  I sort of heard her, but the reality of breaking and entering about shut down my brain.

  “El?”

  “Right. Sounds good except—are you really sure about this? I can scout around alone, not break in, but check the outside of the house, see what I can pick up. I don’t want you to get into trouble, what with your PI license and all.”

  Violet’s face went scary blank. “I don’t get caught.”

  Minutes later we were standing in Tony’s kitchen, and sensations were bombarding me from every direction. I hadn’t touched a thing. Not one thing. “Whose bright idea was this?” I hissed. Surely not mine. There was none of the emptiness I’d felt in Mitch’s house, just energy so dark it stuck to me like tar. A shudder crawled up my spine and forced the breath out of my lungs.

  Violet ignored me and moved out of the kitchen into…I didn’t have a clue where she’d gone, since I couldn’t see a thing and my feet were rooted to the floor. No way was I gonna move unless I could see what was in front of me. Nope. Not me. Besides, I didn’t hear anything. No footsteps, no rustling movement, no sign of Violet. Where the hell did she come up with these skills?

  I took a step. Two. Banged into a chair, but it righted itself and I let out a shaky breath. Now was a really bad time to get a case of the clummsies. I stumbled along for a few more steps, leading with my hands so I didn’t smash into a wall or something.

  But I did. Smack into a wall.

  Just my hands. And I couldn’t move. The wall held my fingertips captive and pushed a million emotions through my body. Tony’s. The killer’s. Even Mitchell’s from the times
when he’d hung out here. It was like the house did a core dump of every emotion it had been holding since Tony moved in. He was lonely. So very lonely. Tears stung behind my eyes and I wanted to hug him, feed him something besides canned beef stew. My heart hurt with his despair like when I saw pictures of starving children in war-torn countries.

  I sucked in a breath and jerked my hands away from the wall. The room shimmered. I knew it did. Couldn’t see a thing, but I knew it shimmered. Like it was smiling at me. Oh, dear God, I’d lost it. Walls did not feel things, did not store said feelings, and most important, did not share those emotions with…me.

  I backed away from the wall, a scream building in my chest. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep it from escaping and broadcasting our illegal visit to the neighbors. Not. Going. To. Scream.

  A wave of energy tickled my senses, and I knew Violet had returned to the kitchen. “Here, touch my hand.” She positioned her gloved hand under my fingertips. Gloved? When did that happen?

  “You’re shaking.” She was worried about me.

  “Yeah, I…don’t like strange houses.”

  I couldn’t tell her what had just happened. Bad enough I knew that I’d passed from being just plain strange to over-the-top psycho. The warmth of Violet’s hand penetrated the latex gloves, and with it images of the layout of Tony’s house flooded my mind—like a Triple A map with the route highlighted in hot pink.

  It was a normal image. No weird emotions. No walls acting like sentient beings. I clamped my hand around Violet’s soaked up her body heat. Normal. Human.

  It’s a good thing I’d glommed on to her hand, because when we reached the living room I was bombarded with another slew of images, so fast and furious I would have crumpled without her support. Light from the street filtered through the blinds and cast eerie gray shadows over the worn furniture in Tony’s living room.

  “Breathe.” The mint from Violet’s gum scented the space between us. “If you pass out in here I will kill you, chop your body into small pieces, and throw them off the nearest cliff.”