Amber’s movie star husband hugged his wife with one arm and held out his other hand to Hannah. “Hi, I’m Josh, and I am forever in your debt for not being dead. I do not want to experience Amber’s wrath if she goes after another killer.”
Hannah supposed Josh was handsome in a slick movie-star way worth admiring. But despite Amber’s effusive embrace, Hannah’s concentration fastened worriedly on Aaron. He inspected the front of his shop, shoved open the door, and entered what could have been a blazing building.
If she hadn’t been in his bed, she could have fried in there.
“Is it out?” she asked worriedly.
“Whoever did this tried to make it look like a trash fire, so there wasn’t much fuel,” Josh explained. “Aaron has that placed wired to the hilt. The smoke alarm screamed before more than the back wall was affected. I never even considered what the town used in a fire.”
Looking weary and wet, the chief of police joined them. “Monty insisted on the hydrants as soon as the town had enough money. Good to see you in one piece, Hannah. Keegan took out the front window trying to reach you.”
Knowing her massive cousin would have taken out windows for a dog, she wasn’t as impressed by his concern as she was terrified of what could have happened. She glanced at the shattered plate glass. “And you’re sure it’s arson?”
“Definitely. Trash barrel was moved and squirted with accelerant. Think big barbecue grill shoved against a wooden wall. It probably smoldered for a while before the heat built and the door caught fire. Had the place been engulfed, we may not have even noticed the barrel.” Walker sounded grim. “You wouldn’t happen to have any enemies, would you?”
And there it was, the fear that had been niggling at her ever since Amber mentioned Hannah could have died tonight.
“No enemies, no exceptional talents anyone could fear, no nothing but what exists in my head. And my head conjures nothing to explain this,” she admitted, sorting through the possibilities and seeing nothing.
A few hours ago, she’d been experiencing the most incredible sex she’d ever had or dreamed of having. She’d been feeling safe and happy for the first time in longer than she could remember. And now, this.
“Well, it’s probably aimed at Aaron,” Walker said. “He’s the one who’s been examining stones. And if the killer is after the stones or possesses the weapon that killed Carmel, he may fear Aaron’s ability.”
“Even I don’t understand Aaron’s ability,” Josh pointed out. “How would a stranger realize he can be dangerous?”
Good question, one none of them could answer.
When Aaron reappeared again, looking filthy, tired, and furious, Hannah took leave of her companions and hurried in his direction. He saw her but didn’t seem to want to reach for her. To hell with that. She flung her arms around his waist and buried her face in his smoky shirt. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “If I need to move out, I will. I’m so very sorry!”
He hugged her then and rested his chin on her head. “This isn’t about you. And I may tie you to my side to be sure you’re safe. If it’s a hired jerk doing this, he probably didn’t even know you may have been in there.”
But there was something in the tone of his voice that said he’d just thought of something. He set her back when Walker approached. “Hired killer,” Aaron said, without explanation.
Hannah watched in puzzlement as Walker nodded. “Doesn’t make sense, but yeah, it’s occurred to me that there’s one person in town who hobnobs with the wrong sorts of people.”
“Besides my mother?” Kurt Kennedy asked wearily, joining them. Soaked and filthy from battling the fire and the powerful fire hose, he still seemed alert and functional.
“Your mother might have set a hired killer loose?” Hannah asked in disbelief.
“As you may have noticed, my mother wasn’t entirely sane. She could have told anyone anything, for any reason. Someone might think there’s ancient treasure in Aaron’s shop. Maybe they killed her for something they thought she had, and when Aaron searched her rooms, they thought he took it.” Kurt shrugged. “I’m reading a lot of crime novels lately, trying to grasp the criminal mind.”
Walker snorted. “Understandable. It’s easier than believing evil stalks the town. But I was thinking of your mother’s best buddy, Fred Roper. He got rich arranging private meetings for some of the most dangerous criminals in the state.”
Hannah tried to find the name in her copious memory and remembered Roper was the lodge manager. She tried not to gape. “You hired a criminal to run the lodge?”
“He’s never been arrested for anything,” Kurt said, brushing his hair off his face and smearing soot in the process. “He’s always been a high-end hotelier. It’s just that wealthy criminals flock to wealthy resorts, and he’s very accommodating. We’re looking for someone to replace him now that Mom’s gone. He’s the only manager who stayed longer than two weeks while she was around.”
“This is all the stuff of fiction,” Walker said. “We have nothing. I’ll have the sheriff’s forensic team up here in the morning. I need to tape off the back alley.” The police chief stalked away, a man on a mission.
Aaron kept his arm draped over Hannah’s shoulder, as if he needed the contact as much as she did. “I’ll have to hire security, if only to keep the town from burning down. I should stay here tonight to keep guard.”
Without caring what the rest of the town thought, Hannah met his gaze. “Then I will too. Maybe we should have a ghost party and spook away any more killers.”
He almost grinned at that. “Fee did that once. I think we can do better.”
Twenty-two
After resetting smoke and motion detectors, hanging various contraptions over all the antique shop’s entrances, including the boarded window, and leaving fans blowing, Aaron collapsed upstairs beside Hannah. Even the second floor stunk of smoke, but at least the bed was dry.
Sex with Hannah earlier had been. . . a mind-altering experience. Innocent angels—or even librarians—shouldn’t be so arousing, but Hannah’s eagerness and perceptivity was a potent combination. He craved more.
Pumping adrenaline and seething lust could only do so much against exhaustion and shock. He was wiped.
They both needed rest. He snuggled her into the curve of his body, acknowledged her hum of appreciation and his surge of arousal, and promptly fell asleep.
Her nearly windowless room let them sleep late. Waking in an unfamiliar bed, to the stale odor of burnt wood and the sweet fragrance that was Hannah’s own, Aaron lay in muddled confusion. How long had it been since he’d simply relaxed, appreciating the fact that he was alive? He definitely hadn’t awakened with a woman in his bed in a decade or more. He always drove home alone.
Hannah had got inside his head in ways that no other woman ever had, not even Natalie. Nat had simply accepted his affinity for antiques as an extension of his past and knowledge. He’d never explained his gift. Hannah had experienced it, with an intimacy that bound them in ways that worried him.
She stirred—picking up on his thoughts? He might never understand how their physical contact could create so much understanding. He was accustomed to blocking out people, but his curiosity about the woman in his arms was unendurable—until he opened to her just a little.
The connection was instantaneous—and probably nothing more than normal people recognized. He had just closed himself off for so long that it was almost an entirely new sensation to recognize her interest and arousal and wariness as she edged away.
“Another shower?” he suggested, recalling images from the night before that stoked his engines.
“This one isn’t big enough for two,” she said with regret. “And we probably ought to save our energy for restoring the mess downstairs.”
Faex. Remembering the damage to years of hard work, Aaron fought a wave of rage. Instead of playing, he needed to be hunting vandals who could have killed Hannah or burned down the town. He rolled over and threw hi
s legs off the edge of the bed. “You need to be preparing school lessons and overseeing what they’re doing at the school. The mess downstairs is mine.”
She remained in bed, stretching so the t-shirt she’d pulled on as nightgown strained over her breasts. She wasn’t large, but a nice handful. Aaron yanked on his jeans.
“You’re shutting me out again,” she said helpfully. “It’s understandable but don’t think I won’t whack you upside the head when you need it. I don’t know what kind of woman you’ve been consorting with, but I’m not her. Want to tell me to back off?”
Yeah, he did, and dammit, he couldn’t. “Cons to Lucy relationship—we get under each other’s skins. Pro—I like it. Con—it will hurt like the devil when you’re gone.”
“Pro—the sex is good.” She swung out of bed and headed for the shower. “Con—it’s hard to whack you when I understand you.”
He almost managed a grin at that—and at the sight of her quite respectable ass outlined by the clingy knit shirt. “Pro—there’s always someone ready to buy you breakfast.”
“Anyone can do that,” she called from behind the closed door. “The real challenge is whether or not you’re ready to face the other Lucys if we go to the café together.”
“Hell, no,” he said with feeling. “I’ll bring it back here.”
He left her imitating a squawking chicken. He needed to confront the disaster that was his once respectable shop.
By the time Hannah came down, garbed in her shapeless denim dress, Aaron had faced the realization that his shop would never be the same—and that he needed help.
“You’re scowling and there’s no coffee waiting,” Hannah said in her schoolmarm voice. “My psychic abilities say you’ve realized this isn’t a one-person job and you’re not an idiot.”
He snorted amusement at this correct assessment. “You’re bad for my ego.”
“Your ego survived two years in prison and came out assuming, for whatever inane reason, that you had to protect all of Hillvale. I’m grateful you didn’t decide to take on the world, the way your Spanish soldier apparently did. He came half way around the globe to stop evil and give precious stones to natives he didn’t even know. And who knows what your medieval knight did to acquire the Healing Stone to stop the plague. Having met you, I understand the paintings better.” She caught his arm and tugged him toward the door. “I need tea.”
“I can’t even save Hillvale, much less the world,” he said grumpily. Having a woman who understood him was well beyond ego-deflating.
“Your self-esteem can handle a little Lucy suffocation. You might even enjoy the challenge once you get used to it. I do not expect you to ever be a gregarious person, but you aren’t a hermit either. I will even declare I’m ready to move into the schoolhouse if that will ease your terror of personal interaction.” She released his arm and strode ahead of him down the boardwalk.
Aaron caught up and nabbed her arm. “I am not normally a possessive man. In your case, I’ll make an exception. It’s apparent we have unresolved issues over several lifetimes. Let’s resolve them so you don’t haunt me into eternity.”
She laughed. She was so damned far under his skin that he enjoyed her laughter. Aaron knew where that led, and he didn’t like it. Torn between a rock and a hard place, he opened the café door for her and entered the fox’s den still grasping Hannah’s arm—like a shield.
Aaron didn’t have to worry about being part of a couple for long, Hannah thought with amusement as the men dragged him away to discuss repairs, and the women surrounded her with increasingly creative solutions to finding an arsonist.
She’d never been part of a couple, so Aaron even had more experience in that than she did. And she still wasn’t entirely certain if what they had was a real relationship and not just some psychic bond from the past that would evaporate once their task was complete. The world had too many possibilities to label anything after one night together.
“I’m new to this detective business,” Hannah said, holding up her hand to halt Teddy’s latest idea. She sipped her tea and skeptically eyed the heavily decorated bagel Fee had given her. “I need facts, not theories. Could we line up facts first?”
Mariah swung around her notebook computer. “Fact—in the late 1700s or early 1800s, Hillvale had weird crystals and stone guardians purported to protect against evil. Fact—at least some of those crystals are no longer in place. We haven’t dug far enough to find more statues. Fact—Carmel had a box of raw crystals with odd vibrations in a safe.”
“Those aren’t exactly facts,” Hannah corrected. “The first two are assumptions based on a painting and a single stone statue. And the odd vibrations in the third is a matter of opinion.”
Mariah gave her a rude gesture and returned to scrolling through her document.
Hannah nibbled the bagel and decided the taste was more than acceptable. Unfortunately, the list of so-called facts led to less than palatable notions. “Aaron and I checked the terrain around the stone statue. There’s been a landslide and probably a flood since the time of the Eversham painting. It’s quite possible—if the crystals existed—that they washed or slid down the hill into the area the Kennedys turned into a grotto.”
“Back to theory,” Teddy said cheerfully. “If the raw crystals became visible after a flood, then the hippies may have gathered them to use in various ways, and Carmel bribed, blackmailed, or seduced them away.”
“Why?” Hannah demanded. “You saw them. They’re entirely unremarkable except for the crystal facets that could just as easily have been found in Keegan’s cave.”
Samantha carried her glass of milk, toast, and boiled egg to the booth and bumped Teddy to make her scoot over. “Val grew up in the commune. She may know, but persuading her to talk is as painful as banging our heads against brick walls. Walker is trying to persuade the DA to release the crystals. The sheriff is just about ready to send a case to the DA claiming Francois killed Carmel. They’re trying to determine if the crystals are evidence, since they were safely locked away.”
“The Healing Stone is the one we really need,” Hannah reminded them. “We know that the moonstone wasn’t buried in the ground with the others because Cass’s family had it. But Carmel got her hands on it, and it apparently hasn’t been seen since.”
“She could have sold it,” Teddy said, frowning. “We could be barking up the wrong tree. It may have been gone for decades and that was just an empty impression in the chest.”
“Speculation again,” Hannah warned. “We know it existed. It would be good to find it. Moving on. . . We have a vandal arsonist on the loose as well as a killer. Did Walker’s cameras catch anything?”
Hannah didn’t know why she’d suddenly usurped leadership of this investigation. She wasn’t a leader. She was an observer. But finding a killer arsonist had become so important that she didn’t seem able to step back.
Sam finished chewing before responding. “The camera in the alley was disabled. Someone knew it was there.”
“Dang, that means it’s someone local,” Teddy muttered. “That camera went in only a few months ago.”
“I’ve been trying to establish alibis for everyone in town the night of Carmel’s murder, the day Francois died, and the incidents at the shop. It’s almost an impossible job, even for me,” Mariah admitted, calling up another spreadsheet on her computer and turning the screen to face the table. “We’re a mobile lot.”
“Cass is almost always without an alibi,” Sam said with a laugh. “As is Val. And I’m more than convinced either of them could kill with a look. I obviously did not inherit enough of the family genes.”
“And Lance and Xavier are sketchy,” Amber noted, studying the chart. “Xavier is in his office by himself most of the day and sleeps alone at night. These days, Lance wanders as much as Harvey, who also has few alibis, since he’s almost always alone unless he’s busking.”
“What about Roper?” Hannah asked, studying the confusing chart.
“Charming.” Sam sipped her milk. “Now Walker is a target of gangster wrath if Roper gets fired. My husband goes out of his way to make enemies. That doesn’t explain why Aaron was attacked.”
“What if Carmel fired Roper and warned him that she was reporting his gangster propensities?” Teddy asked, almost bouncing in her seat.
Hannah pointed her finger at her as if she were a misbehaving student.
Teddy grimaced, then looked chagrined. “Theory is so much easier.”
“I’ll happily slap Roper with ectoplasm,” Mariah said. “But if he’s not guilty, it would be a little awkward ever visiting the lodge again if I ask him if he killed Carmel and vandalized the shop.”
“Well, awkward until Kurt fires him,” Teddy acknowledged. “And then there’s always the danger of irritating someone who hangs with gangsters. Not a recommended solution. Walker may take care of himself but Baby Daphne needs her mom.”
“Even Josh can’t write a play to cover this many suspects,” Amber said, spreading her tarot cards on the table. “I think our psychic detective agency must admit failure.”
“So you’re totally giving up on talking to Val?” Hannah asked, watching as the men started sliding from their booth.
“Nope, let’s do it.” Amber slid her cards back into her purse again.
Sam wrinkled her nose but finished her toast and stood up just as her husband walked by. She fell into Walker’s arms, wrapped hers around his neck, and kissed his cheek as if she’d accidentally fallen into his path. The police chief didn’t seem to mind.
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