by K. B. Draper
Daylen spoke over her. “I appreciate your help. Can you tell me how you know the O’Connellys?”
“Of course. The O’Connellys are stand-up people. I know Mr. O’Connelly through a couple of mutual business acquaintances. We’ve socialized at parties and such. My late wife was friends with Mrs. O’Connelly, they were on a couple of committees together.” He took a sip of his drink and openly relished in its taste. “Perfect.” He turned to face them. “What can I get you ladies?” He turned again, taking out two glasses from underneath the table.
“A puke bucket and some insecticide would be good,” Kanyon mumbled.
Daylen backhanded Kanyon across the arm.
He looked over his shoulder. “Excuse me?”
“Nothing.” Daylen spoke before Kanyon could. “Thank you though.”
“A raincheck then.” He smiled another, or so he thought, charming smile.
Daylen felt his lust, desire to dominate, conquer, and control fighting against her shields. She was going to have to make this interview quick because she didn’t think she could hold the emotions off for long. “Mrs. O’Connelly said you referred Lydia, their assistant, to them.”
“Yes, yes I did. Lydia is a lovely girl.”
“And how did you come to know Lydia?”
He gave Daylen a wicked smile. “Lydia …” he paused for effect, “did some work for me. She is very ambitious.” He gave them a devilish grin. “And has a good many talents that I found most … desirable.”
“She does seem like the kind of girl that has taken a lot of dick-tation,” Kanyon said, disgust dripping from her every word.
Daylen cut in. “So, you referred her to the O’Connellys?”
“Yes.” He answered Daylen, though his attention was still on Kanyon. “Mr. O’Connelly mentioned at a dinner party that his wife needed assistance managing the house and various events. I thought Lydia would be perfect.”
“Because of her skills,” Kanyon stated pointblank, not trying to hide her sarcasm.
Though his smile did not waver, she could see the change in his eyes.
Daylen felt the change in him as well and she tried to redirect him as she felt her shields weaken. “When was the last time you saw Lydia?”
He turned to Daylen and assessed her suspiciously. “The other night. I invited her for dinner at my restaurant, but unfortunately the evening was cut short. There was a little issue in the parking lot I needed to tend to.” He flicked a glance toward Kanyon.
“Probably should get better security,” Kanyon replied.
His smile widened. “Oh, don’t worry, I plan on taking care of the problem.”
Daylen wanted to close her eyes to the hate and vengeance that now filled the room. “I appreciate your time Mr. Defalco, you have been most generous,” she said as she willed her legs to stay under her.
“No problem. Like I said, I’m always willing to help women in need.”
Daylen and Kanyon made their way to the front door. When they were safely out of earshot, Kanyon ranted. “God, I think I got a sexually transmitted disease just standing in the same room with that freakin’ sleazeball. I mean seriously, how many sexual–” Kanyon stopped her tirade when she saw Daylen begin to crumble.
Daylen’s knees gave out and her vision went black the second the door shut behind them. She woke, warm with Kanyon’s arms holding her tight. She wanted to stay that way, nuzzle into Kanyon’s strong embrace, but she leaned back. “Sorry,” she offered as she straightened and nudged Kanyon away so she could bear her own weight. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and released it slowly. Still feeling unsettled, she knew she needed to distance herself from Defalco. “Kanyon, will you please get me out of here?”
“Sure.” Kanyon kept a steadying hand on her arm for a few steps until Daylen waved her off. “I’m fine now, thanks.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“I just got a little–”
“Light-headed, I know.” She followed Daylen to the passenger side and when she was secure in her seat she made her way around to the driver’s side. They drove in silence for several miles until Kanyon pulled off onto a road to a scenic overlook.
“Where are we going?”
Kanyon didn’t answer. A small parking lot emerged in front of them.
“Kanyon, we don’t have time for this.”
Again, Kanyon didn’t answer. Instead she pulled into a parking space, turned off the engine, and exited the vehicle. Confused, Daylen watched as Kanyon strolled toward the overlook, sat on the vacant cement bench, closed her eyes, and let the sun hit her upturned face.
Daylen finally exited the vehicle and walked over to stand in front of Kanyon. She watched as the ocean breeze danced with Kanyon’s hair and a cloud moved in front of the sun and changed the light playing across her face.
Kanyon didn’t open her eyes. “Feeling better?” she asked serenely.
“Yes, but we need to–”
“Good. Then you won’t mind telling me what the hell just went on?” Kanyon demanded softly.
“I told you. Sometimes I get a little light-headed and–”
Kanyon opened her eyes and lowered her gaze to fix a glacier stare on Daylen. “Don’t even,” she ordered, her voice just as cold.
Daylen contemplated the truth. If she told Kanyon she had entangled herself in this surreal existence, then maybe Kanyon would think, well … she didn’t know what Kanyon would think exactly. The thought of being honest scared her. She cared what Kanyon thought and didn’t want her thinking she was some ex-Hollywood actress gone nut job. On the flipside, she didn’t want to lie, not to Kanyon. She wanted Kanyon. Wanted her in her life. Wanted to be back in her arms, but more than anything else she wanted Kanyon to be safe. When Kanyon cleared her throat, Daylen dropped to sit next to her.
Kanyon continued to stare at her, arms crossed, waiting Daylen out. Daylen sighed deeply. “Fine. Fine. God, I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” she muttered. “Okay, so my aunt and I come from an ancient bloodline of Seekers.” She rushed before she lost her nerve. “Seekers have special gifts which assist them in finding certain articles, items, and people. We find and collect these articles because well, if they are found or used …” Daylen paused to find the right words, “there’s a disruption in the grand plan or something.” Unable to turn back now, Daylen continued resignedly. “I don’t know everything. I just started working with my aunt since the show ended. I’ve always known about this inherited job title and what my aunt could do, but she just started teaching me, training me to use my gifts. I can apparently see things, visions sometimes. I can feel things, human emotions or whatever. I don’t even know really. They’re unpredictable. Until recently, they haven’t even been all that strong. But the last couple of weeks or so they’re kind of kicking in. They overwhelm me sometimes, hence the lightheadedness.”
Kanyon sat back and pondered Daylen’s explanation for a long time. The last couple of weeks or so? The same last couple of weeks or so that Isadora has been visiting her in her dreams?
In her silence, Daylen watched Kanyon’s face for any indication of how she was taking the news. Nothing. She’s probably trying to think of how to get to the car without the crazy person following her. Or she’s figuring out the wording she’s going to put on the psycho ward intake paperwork. Her heart began to ache.
Kanyon finally turned to look at Daylen. “Save the world from supernatural trinkets? I definitely need to talk to Ruby about getting that dental plan.” Kanyon uncrossed her legs and rose. “Where to now?” she asked as she headed to the car.
Daylen caught Kanyon’s arm a few steps down the sidewalk, stopping her and spinning her around. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say? I just told you I’m part of an ancient group of mystical people and you say you need to talk to Aunt Ruby about getting your teeth cleanings paid for?”
Kanyon smiled a wide toothy grin. “Ahhh, yeah. I can’t be fighting the bad guys with f’ugly teeth.”
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“Seriously?” Daylen couldn’t register how she just laid out the most unbelievable, put you in a straightjacket story and Kanyon had absolutely no reaction, no protest, not even an eye roll. And she hadn’t even used a talk-the-crazy-person-off-the-ledge voice.
Kanyon took in the confusion on Daylen’s face. She guessed if she hadn’t grown up in Hollywood surrounded by crazy people and if she hadn’t been visited by her late night, pesky, ancient mystical guide, Isadora, she’d probably be doing the smile-while-you-try-to-back-away-from-the-loony-bin-escapee thing right now. But she had, and more so, it was Daylen. Daylen was all that mattered. So, no matter what, she wasn’t going to walk away from her again. Her decision had been simple, she was in. Either they were both on their way to the crazy farm or everything Isadora had been telling her was confirmed. I should probably tell Daylen about Isadora. She watched Daylen, hands on her hips and shifting her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. On the other hand, not telling her could be more fun. “Okay, fine. I do have one question.”
“Good. Okay,” Daylen answered, relieved Kanyon was at least acting curious. “What is it?”
Kanyon stepped close and made a show of looking down the opening of Daylen’s shirt. She hooked a finger in its v and pulled her shirt open slightly. Daylen’s breath hitched and Kanyon looked up with a grin before glancing back down. “Do you have a superhero suit under here?”
Daylen was caught between desire, laughter, and frustration, but desire quickly took the lead as Kanyon released her shirt only to run her hand up the opening. She swallowed a moan as Kanyon’s touch slid up her neck then cupped the side of her face. They stared at each other as Kanyon ran a soft thumb over Daylen’s lips. “Nice try with the crazy routine to run me off,” Kanyon leaned in, stopping her lips a breath away from Daylen’s, “but I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good to know,” Daylen managed to whisper.
The corner of Kanyon’s lips smirked in satisfaction. She stepped back slowly, dropping her hand from Daylen’s cheek. “Where to now?” she asked as she turned to the car.
Daylen didn’t answer, taking a second to collect herself.
“What about Lenny? What was his part in the grand plan? What did we save by finding him, a few dozen bakeries and a really bad Hawaiian shirt factory from going out of business?” Kanyon asked as Daylen got in the car.
Daylen laughed. “No. No grand plan with Lenny. His wife simply hired us to find him. She probably altered Lenny’s plan a little, but there was nothing special about his recovery. Through the years, the Seekers have always taken on added responsibilities along with their normal jobs. Aunt Ruby decided to make it a business by taking on normal cases as well, helps with the cover too.”
“Smart,” Kanyon replied simply. “Okay, Madam Mystic, now what?”
“First, no nicknames. Second, I think I need to go back to bed. The Defalco overload and last night are playing havoc in my head.”
They pulled in front of Daylen’s house. “Are you sure you’re okay? I could come in and help you get to bed and stuff,” Kanyon offered with a wicked smile.
Daylen wanted nothing more than Kanyon to come in and make sure she got to bed and stuff. “I’m good, thanks. I’ll be fine. I just need to spend some time alone, shake the last few days off, and re-energize. You understand?”
“I understand and I’ll leave, but we’re going to talk about last night. I don’t want you to think I–”
“Kanyon, really, it’s fine. I was just a little drunk and a little surprised, that’s all. I know there’s something between you and Lexi and it’s not my business.”
“But–”
“Not now. I can’t.” Daylen spoke over her.
Kanyon was going to continue, but she saw the exhaustion in Daylen’s face and just nodded.
“Thanks,” Daylen said softly.
“I’ll pick you up in the morning since your car is still at Ruby’s.”
“I’ll grab a cab, don’t worry. I’ll see you at the office in the morning.”
Kanyon sighed heavily as she watched Daylen close the door behind her. Well, freaking now what? It wasn’t even noon. Daylen had been gone thirty seconds and she was already stir-crazy. She went through her mental rolodex. Mom? No. She was not going shopping or sipping drinks poolside so they could look at her latest pool boy’s butt. Roz? No. She didn’t want to get yelled at or have to feel bad about turning down any more roles. Dodge? Maybe. She did feel like hitting something, but she would see him in the morning for their ass-crack of dawn workout. She ran through a list of her Hollywood “friends.” No. All they did was talk about their big, upcoming roles and who was sleeping with who. Her list was dwindling. She was too restless to go home. A name popped in her head and she disregarded it immediately, but with Daylen indisposed, she couldn’t think of anyone better. She really shouldn’t be doing this and she nearly hung up, but the line was answered before she could.
“Hey, it’s Kanyon,” she said tentatively. “What are you up to?” She listened. “Do you mind if I crash the party?” She waited for an answer. “Okay, cool. I’ll see you in a little bit.” She hung up and laid her head back. “What the hell did I just do?” She looked at Daylen’s house, shook off the apprehension, and started the car.
Two and a half hours later Kanyon was sitting outside on a bench with her head lowered as guilt and regret weighed heavy on her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here. I don’t know what came over me.” A comforting arm went around her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” Silence fell for a long moment before she looked up, remorse clear in her eyes. “I want to try again. It’ll be different this time, I promise.”
“I’m sorry, Kanyon, it was okay at first, cool even, but … Well, the guys are kind of getting tired of being pelted to death with paintballs,” Theo explained apologetically. “You’re just too good. We’ve played five games and everyone is dead before they can even get a shot off. Well, except for Linus. He got a shot off, but only because you covered his face and chest with paint and he couldn’t see so he fell and when his gun hit the ground it misfired.”
“We could play ten against one, all of you against me. I’ll even shoot left handed,” Kanyon offered hopefully.
“Ah, we already kind of did that last game when you shot the red team then accused your own blue team of treason and killed all of them too.”
“One of them was throwing hand signals, giving away our positions. I couldn’t take any chances.”
“He was waving for medical assistance after you used his back as a spring board to jump over the inflatable barriers into the other team’s bunker.”
“You’re saying I was a little too zealous?”
“Maybe a tad.”
“Understood. Tell the guy’s thanks and I’m sorry, especially the little scrawny one I picked up and used as a human shield.”
“Will do,” Theo said, patting her on the back.
Back in her car, Kanyon looked at her dash clock. Two thirty. Great, now what? She headed home, lacking anything better to do. She showered then went downstairs to get something to eat, realizing she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. At that she thought of Daylen. It was everything she could do to keep from going to her. The need to comfort and care for her was overwhelming. She tried to distract herself with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich which fed her stomach, but did nothing for keeping her thoughts from wandering back to Daylen. Her doorbell rang and she leapt off the stool, thankful for the distraction.
Kanyon greeted her visitor with a big smile. “Hey, Benny.”
“Hello, Miss McKane.” He held out a set of car keys. “I finished your car.”
Kanyon snatched the keys from his hand and bolted past him, taking the front stairs two at a time until she hit the driveway. “Benny, it’s freakn’ amazing.”
“Thank you, Miss McKane.”
She turned to her long-time mechanic and car restorer. “Benny, we’ve known each other for ten years. You�
�ve restored what, ten, fifteen, cars for me? Stop calling me Miss McKane.”
“Yes, Miss … Miss Kanyon,” Benny replied sheepishly.
Kanyon rolled her eyes and would have reprimanded him again, but she wanted to ogle her new toy. “It’s perfect. It’s exactly like the one from the movie.”
“Yes, ma’am. I watched Smokey and the Bandit twenty times to make sure it was an exact replica. I mean this is a ‘79 and the one in the movie, actually they used more than one model I think, a ‘76 and ‘77, because there were some inconsistencies with the cars in the movie. I had to use my best judgment. If you don’t like it–” He hesitated, uncertainty filling his voice.
“It’s perfect, Benny. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Miss, Miss Kanyon.”
She shook her head, smiling. “You just can’t call me Kanyon, can you?”
“I’ll work on it ma’am.”
“It’s fine.” She ran a hand admiringly over the Firebird emblem on the hood. “You can call me whatever you want, you deserve it. This is absolute perfection.”
Benny smiled and began a detailed tour of the car, inside and out. He fired it up, revving the engine while Kanyon watched the motor vibrate with power. She stood back, barely able to wait to get behind the wheel. “You’re a true artist.” Benny blushed under the praise and then nearly passed out when Kanyon threw her arms around him. “A true artist,” she said again when she released him.
“Thank you, Miss McKane.”
Kanyon fought the urge to peel out. She played nice in the congested traffic, but then used the motor as it was intended when she hit the open highway. She had faster cars and newer cars, but she enjoyed the Trans Am’s low throaty rumble. You could feel the power and strength which had earned it its title as a muscle car. She liked pushing its speed on the straightaways and maneuvering it around the tight and winding curves. She pulled over at one point to remove the T-tops so she could enjoy the wind whipping through her hair.