Knock, knock...

by Dale Mayer

  Something about her tone of voice had him gazing at her intently. "Do you have a reason to be paranoid?"

  Something moved in the back of her gaze. His senses sharpened. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Shay?"

  "No, of course not." She laughed, but it sounded forced. "Nothing more than being a single female who lives alone." She pushed her door open and walked inside.

  He followed her and reached out to flick on the lights. Bright light filled the living room and entranceway as she strode further into the room, her back stiff, her head turning from side to side. "Everything appears normal."

  "I'll search the place to make sure."

  She gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

  If there was a little too much nervousness in her voice, he ignored it. She did live alone, and if someone had broken in, that was nothing to fool around with. He closed the front door and opened the hall closet. He searched through the long coats. "Nothing here." Systematically, he moved through the classy apartment and checked cupboards and corners. He couldn't help but admire the queen-sized bed and its thick duvet dressed in chocolate and gold. There was something especially compelling about the colors and the intimate setting. And he approved, imagined her bedding as a perfect contrast to her chestnut hair and smooth creamy skin.

  Ignoring his clamoring body and the visions in his head, he checked under the bed and opened up the double closets. Nothing. He closed the last closet and turned to face her. "The apartment is empty."

  She nodded. "Thank you."

  He looked at her closer. "Shay, are you going to be okay?"

  She collected herself and smiled up at him. "I am. Sorry. Thank you so much for checking. I'm sure it's nothing." Crossing her arms she walked to the front door and opened it for him.

  No goodnight kiss or hug. Nothing.

  An unmistakable message.

  Having made sure the place was safe, he walked over and smiled. "Sleep well."

  He walked out of her apartment and into the night.

  Downstairs, he stopped beside Thomas. "Did Shay have any visitors tonight? When we got to her door, she found it unlocked."

  Thomas's eyebrows shot up. "Oh dear. There's been no one in or out that doesn't belong."

  "We'll assume then that she forgot to lock up on our way out. Thanks."

  Roman walked to his car, deep in thought. He hated leaving her alone. Especially after finding the door unlocked. He'd wanted to stay and watch over her. But she wouldn't have welcomed his presence. Though he'd done a thorough search of her place, and was confident no one lurked in there, something had unnerved him. Something had felt off.

  But what?

  ***

  Shay closed her door behind Roman and locked it. She turned back and leaned against the closed door and studied her living room. It looked normal.

  It didn't feel normal.

  Then she dropped her barriers to look more closely. Energy filled the room. Hers. Roman's. Yes, even Stefan's soothing energy hovered. He'd obviously checked in on her earlier.

  And so had someone else…

  She blinked. And checked again. Definitely traces of another presence.

  Then she identified it.

  Recognized something so familiar it scared the crap out of her.

  Her breath caught in the back of her throat, choking off the cry ready to spring forth. Oh God. No. That wasn't possible. There's no way this energy could be here. Absolutely, no way. He was dead.

  Shivers raced down her spine and her teeth started chattering. She crossed her arms across her chest. Nothing helped. Stepping forward, she snatched up her shawl from where she'd dropped it on the couch and wrapped it tightly around her.

  This is not possible. Stefan, please tell me this isn't happening, she whispered. There was no comforting answer in her mind. Stefan wasn't responding.

  Stefan!

  Jesus. What? Can't a guy get any sleep around her, he grumbled. What the hell is wrong?

  Because it would save time and explanation, she opened her mind so he could see her thoughts, feelings and impressions through their telepathic link.

  Tell me this isn't his energy. Tell me he's dead and forever gone. Please.

  Him? Stefan's voice shifted as he shook off the sleep from his mind. No, it's not possible. It can't be Darren.

  Are you sure? My door was unlocked when I came home tonight. And it shouldn't have been.

  That doesn't mean it was him.

  No, but the energy was so similar to his – as if he's changed form slightly. She gave a strangled laugh, tears starting to course down her cheeks. And yes, I know how unbelievable that sounds. Please tell me that he's dead and gone.

  Shay, he's dead. I killed him. You killed him. He can't ever hurt you again.

  She sniffled.Are you sure?

  Positive.

  Chapter 9

  Sunday morning…

  When Shay opened her eyes the next morning, recognized her bedroom and breathed in the soothing morning light, a sense of relief washed through her. It was finally morning. And her apartment felt...normal.

  It had taken an hour last night, with Stefan`s help, to cleanse and secure her apartment. She still had no idea what had gone on or who her intruder was. But she'd know that energy again if she ever saw it. The cleansing process had her simply walking around and ushering out the old energy – and refilling the space with warm, loving, protective energy.

  And it appeared to have worked. She had slept.

  Dragging her sorry ass out of bed, Shay made her way to a hot shower. Something needed to energize her. It felt like sandpaper had been rubbed over her insides, leaving her raw – edgy. She had a crappy day ahead to go along with the night.

  Another funeral. And burial at the same cemetery. This time for David Cummings. She didn't have to go, but knew she should. Besides, her consciousness prodded at her to check it out. To make sure all was well.

  She stumbled through getting dressed and ate a muffin for her breakfast then headed out the door with a few minutes to spare. For a Sunday morning, there was a surprising amount of traffic. She drove up the winding road to the cemetery and parked. Walking swiftly, her head bowed against the gray skies, she joined the small, private group for the ceremony at the gravesite. David's preference as she understood it.

  Staying unobtrusively in the background, she tried to look around at the other mourners. She only recognized one or two of the people, David’s office staff. That wasn't unexpected. His family was at the left and a row of strangers mingled. Several appeared to be crying – also not unexpected. She looked at their energy as they stood in their own quiet spaces. Most were contained and solemn. Holding tight, their energy snug against their bodies. She'd expect that in this setting. She took a casual look to the others at her side. Again, the energies were calm, slow and contained.

  No surprises here.

  Several other people had joined the throng, coming up behind her. She'd stepped around, letting them come closer to the gravesite and taking her place behind them. Standing behind them gave her a better view of all assembled. Still nothing explained her intuition's insistence that had compelled her to come here or the overwhelming need to check out the energy of those around her. A thin layer of energy on the coffin remained, most likely from the workers who'd handled it.

  She shifted her position for a different angle. And still nothing. Shrugging inside, she waited until the eulogy was over before slowly approaching the widow.

  "I'm so sorry for your loss," she murmured gently to the weeping woman. "I worked with David for several years. He was a good man."

  The widow smiled through her tears. "Thank you. I will miss him."

  As Shay walked back to her car, she pondered the issue. There'd been a definite sense of loss and grief from the widow and the sister-in-law. There'd been an odd melding of their energies, but that wasn't necessarily anything important, just strange. But it had a caring to it. She hadn't seen anything that spoke of hatred, relief, or th
at proclaimed any ill intention – and that had been good. If there'd been foul play suggested in their energies she'd have to say something to Ronin....

  Still, there'd been nothing there.

  Back at her car she gave all the people a final examination as they walked slowly away from the service. Now that it was over, there was no reason for the individuals to keep quiet. At least not verbally. Their energies eased outward. One mentally sniped at another attendee's lack of decorum, thinking she was wearing a low-cut dress more appropriate for a night on the town than a funeral. Another was worried about the time away from his job and resenting that he'd have to stay later that day to make up for lost time. Another marveled at the beauty and simplicity of the grounds thinking it a beautiful spot to rest for all eternity. Shay smiled to herself – the human spirit revitalized itself very quickly. Once the sense of propriety was observed, everyone loosened up. And became their so-normal selves.

  Another woman fretted about the traffic and still another was on her way to meet a secret lover, hoping her husband at her side would pick up the dry cleaning on his way to coach soccer. Only, the husband was meeting someone himself.

  Shay turned back to her car and got in. So much humanity at the surface in a single gathering. For all their private lives and secretive thoughts, no one appeared to harbor any visible ill will toward the deceased.

  She got in her car to head home.

  ***

  Roman put the phone back in his pocket for at least the dozenth time that morning. Only now he stood outside her apartment. "Where the hell are you, Shay?"

  He'd tried both her cell phone and her home phone. No answer.

  He should never have left her alone last night. Not after the unlocked door. All sorts of horrible images had filled his mind since. He'd long given up and had raced to her apartment to check it out for himself. And got no answer. There was a different doorman at the front entrance this time, and he hadn't been able to confirm if Shay had left.

  All Roman could do was keep trying. He pulled out his phone and watched the time tick off. Then he hit redial.

  "Hello?"

  Frustrated relief washed through him, followed by quick, sharp anger. "Damn it, where the hell are you?"

  There was a surprised silence at the other end.

  Shit. He groaned. "Sorry. I didn't mean that quite the way it sounded, but I've been trying to get a hold of you for several hours now. After last night, when you didn't answer, I started to get very worried."

  "I'm fine," she said coolly. "I was at another funeral. One of the people my foundation works with had a heart attack last week."

  He ran his fingers through his hair. "Sorry again. That's a tough one. Two funerals in three days isn't fun."

  "No, it isn't." She sighed. "And I have another one next week. Same thing."

  "Same thing?" His voice sharpened unintentionally. "That's not good."

  Her voice trembled as it crept through the phone. "No, it isn't."

  "Does all this have anything to do with your apartment being unlocked last night?" An odd silence raised the hairs on the back of his neck. "Shay? Are you in danger?"

  "No. No, not at all," she said quickly. "Two men had heart attacks. They ran projects my foundation funded. They were associates. There's no danger."

  "Good." Relief was slow to come but when it did, it washed through him in a rush. He'd been so worried. "Good to know. You scared me."

  "Sorry. I just turned on my phone. I haven't had a chance to check my messages yet."

  "Well most of them will be from me."

  "Then I won't need to listen to them, will I?" Her voice turned brusque, professional.

  He hated that. As if she was trying to push him back. "Unless you had something specific you were calling about...?"

  "I initially called to make sure you were okay after last night. Then when I couldn't get a hold of you, I started to panic. I’ve actually been standing outside your apartment, wondering if I should break in or not." He laughed, a short sound that made him wince as he heard it. "I was sure you'd been hurt. I've been kicking myself for not staying last night." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess I overreacted."

  "It's all right. I'm glad you called to check on me." She paused, adding humorously, "At least if I do get murdered, it's nice to know that my body would eventually be found."

  "That's not funny."

  "I wasn't joking," she said, a bitter tone to her words.

  He didn't know what to say to that. He didn’t like her words or her tone. But how much was she not telling him? "Where are you?"

  "Sitting in my car at the cemetery about to go home to rest."

  "You didn't sleep last night?" He relaxed, knowing she was okay now, and happy to be talking to her. He wanted to see her. Take her out of her odd mood. Maybe coax her to share a little more. "Let's go to lunch."

  Silence.

  "Is that a yes?" he asked carefully. "I thought maybe the Palace Restaurant. They have a beautiful coffee bar and lunch buffet. Are you sure I can't tempt you with some food?"

  "I'm tired," she said. "I wouldn't be good company."

  "I'm not looking for good company." And he wasn't. He was only just beginning to realize what he was looking for. "I'm looking to spend an hour, stress free, with you. Like we did last night before we reached your place," he coaxed. "We had a wonderful evening, didn't we?"

  She went quiet.

  ***

  Should she go? Hell, no. But did she want to? Hell, yes.

  "I'd like to meet with you again," he said promptly. "Lunch. In twenty minutes at the Palace."

  And he hung up.

  Shay stared down at the phone in her hand. What the hell. What if I don't want to meet you, Roman? Then it was too late to decline, because she'd let herself get caught up in the idea. She should have turned him down right at the beginning. Instead she'd let him assume she'd be there.

  She wanted to be there. But it wasn’t like she was put together for a luncheon date. She looked down at her black slacks and matching black cotton sweater. To hell with it. If he was so hot to meet her, then he could meet her as she was.

  She turned on the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

  Shay?

  Damn. Shay was forced to pull onto the shoulder of the road. Stefan? What's up?

  I was going to ask you that. There's been a lot of odd energy coming off you for the last ten minutes.

  She groaned. That's one way to put it. Quickly she explained her morning. So I'm heading over there for lunch.

  Good. It will be good for you.

  Says you.

  Yes, says me. It's your time for love.

  And he left, leaving her mind empty and gasping. Speaking aloud to the empty car, she said, "Damn it, Stefan. That's not fair. If you know something, tell me."

  Warm laughter filled her mind.

  But he stayed silent.

  Irritated, yet feeling better for some odd reason, she pulled back into traffic and headed to the restaurant. Was Stefan right? Was Roman her life partner? If so, wouldn't she know? Of course not, not with that damn wall of his…and her luck.

  Roman was standing outside the restaurant, talking on the phone, when she pulled up. He finished his call and put his phone away once he caught sight of her.

  "I was afraid you weren't coming."

  "A friend called. I needed to speak with him for a few minutes."

  Roman smiled. "Good. Glad you're here. I have a table waiting for us in the conservatory."

  She rolled her eyes at him – of course he got one of the nicest tables in the place. "Who did you have to bribe to get that table?"

  He laughed. "No one. A couple was getting ready to leave when I walked in."

  She didn't believe him but, what the hell, she'd enjoy a quiet lunch.

  As they walked toward the door of the restaurant, Roman asked, "How was the funeral?"

  She winced. "Personally, I hate funerals. Don't intend to have one after
I'm gone and don't like attending them when friends and family die."

  "Many people don't like them, but usually it's because of their sense of loss." He opened the front door of the restaurant for her. "Helps them to find closure."

  "Not in my case," she said shortly. "I don't need them, like them, or want them."