by Rayna Vause
“I’m trying to be serious here, Chris, and you want to talk to me about imaginary crap?”
“Would you shut up for two damn minutes?” Chris stalked past Jack and dropped back down onto the buttery soft leather couch. “You need to understand a little about my family. My mom, she knew things. She was one of those people who would answer the phone before it rang, hand you exactly what you wanted to drink before you asked for it. Premonitions were a part of her daily life.”
“Premonitions?” Skepticism all but dripped from the word.
“Yes, premonitions. My mother is a psychic. She has incredible abilities. Like mine, my mother’s psychic abilities started out as dreams that predicted future events. Before I came here that day to pass on my mother’s message, I’d had a very similar dream to hers. Then at her insistence, I came to warn Angie.”
Jack shook his head. “No. That’s not possible.”
“Jack, how do you think I knew I had to be with Angelica this evening? It wasn’t luck or chance. She asked me to do a reading on her tonight, and bam!”
Jack continued to shake his head in denial. “No. Nightmares don’t mean anything.”
Chris threw up his arms and let them flop back down. “What you believe is up to you, but you wanted the truth and I’ve shared it. Maybe the best, and safest, thing for me to do is leave. It may not change anything, but with a little luck no one else will get hurt. But I’m telling you right now, I don’t think I’m the target.” Chris watched Jack, a knot forming in his chest. Exhaustion made his entire body heavy. Just this once he wanted someone to believe him. To take what he had to say at face value. But you don’t always get what you want.
Jack studied Chris for a long time and then stunned him by pulling him into an embrace. Chris stood stiff in Jack’s arms for a long moment before the tension seeped from his body. He rested his cheek on Jack’s shoulders, wrapped his arms around his waist. The terror and anxiety of the last few hours melted away in Jack’s embrace. Chris wanted to stay secure in his arms for as long as he could. He wanted Jack to tell him that everything would be all right.
“Leaving is not the answer.” Jack sighed. The long breath was heavy with exhaustion and frustration as he rested his head against Chris’s. “We will figure this out. We’ll stop whoever it is, but right now we’re both tired. Let’s just get some sleep and we’ll sort this out tomorrow. It’s late. You’re staying here tonight.”
“But my mom—”
“I know it’s late, but is there anyone you can reach out to and have them stay with her or check with her?”
“I think so. Let me make a quick phone call.”
He made arrangements for their next-door neighbor to check in on her. Then he followed Jack to a guest bedroom.
Jack led him to a room decked in cream and gold. The bed before him could have held four people. A mental switch flipped, and the tension of the day drained away and exhaustion tugged at him, urging him to bury himself in the soft sheets and sleep like he hadn’t in ages.
“Everything you’ll need should be in here. The bathroom is through that door.” Jack turned to face Chris. “Sleep well.”
Chris smiled, and Jack started for the door. Before he left, Chris laid his hand on Jack’s shoulder and caught his gaze. “Thank you again.”
“For what?”
“Just for being there. It’s been a long while since anyone has been there for me.”
Jack nodded. “Get some sleep.” He reached out and brushed his fingers over Chris’s cheek, then turned and headed down the hall to his room.
JACK strode through the lobby of the Whitman Towers, heading toward the private entrance into the Carnival W executive office. His thoughts were on Chris, as they had been all morning, but that tended to be a frequent occurrence of late. As he moved through the large, opulent space, the employees along his path all but stood at attention.
Right now he needed to talk to his sister. Too many odd and downright dangerous things had happened for them to be a coincidence. He’d damn well get to the bottom of it, and he’d start by running through it all with his sister and Connor.
He entered Angelica’s office without knocking and sat down in a burgundy leather guest chair facing her desk. Still deep in thought, he tapped his fingers on the chair’s arm and stared absently at the two tree-shaped bookcases lining one wall of her eclectic office space.
Angelica stormed in, eyes blazing and teeth clenched. Jack shot to his feet at her entrance.
She slammed a vase of flowers down on the desk. Then she thrust an envelope at her brother. “I don’t know who this asshole is, but he’s messing with the wrong chick.”
“Good morning to you too, Ang.”
“Read this,” she demanded. She waved the small florist’s envelope at him again.
Jack took the card out of the envelope and read.
So sorry about the mess last night. Next time, I won’t miss.
He handed the card back, his jaw clenched. “Ang, did you call Connor yet?”
“He’s on his way.” Angelica pursed her lips and tossed the card on the desk next to the vase. She leaned on the desk and crossed her arms. “What’s going on, Jack? Who would do this?”
“I don’t know, but we’re going to figure it out. In the meantime, I need you to promise me something.”
“What?” She looked up at him through narrowed eyes.
“I know you and Con don’t always get along, but promise me you’ll let him protect you.”
“Jack….”
“Something dangerous is going on here, and we’ve got no clue who’s doing this or why. I’ll feel better knowing a trained professional is watching out for you. Just promise me.”
Angelica nodded. “Okay, you’re right. I’ll only put up a minimal fuss, because something is going on here.”
Jack jerked his head back. Angelica rarely sought protection and never backed down from a fight. For her to give in with little fuss when he mentioned police protection worried Jack. He sat hip to hip with her on the edge of the desk and nudging. She laid her head on his shoulder for a moment, blowing out a long breath.
At the sound of a sharp rap, both Angelica and Jack looked toward the door to find Detective Connor McCord poking his head through the gap.
“Detective McCord.” Angelica’s gaze cooled as she eyed the man. “Good. You’re here.”
“It’s always a pleasure to see you too.” Connor smiled at her as he swaggered in and claimed a guest chair.
“So what’s going on, guys? I got messages from you both this morning. Is the shit hitting the fan again?”
“Our friendly neighborhood stalker left me a gift.” Angelica waved at the vase of flowers on her desk. “There’s a lovely little message with it too.”
Connor slid the card off the desk, read it, and whistled. “You’ve pissed someone off but good. And he certainly wants us to know he’s coming. He’s got one thing wrong, though. He’s not going to get to any of you.”
“How do we stop him when we don’t even know who he or she is?” Angelica waved her hands as she spoke. Jack reclaimed one of the guest chairs to avoid getting whacked.
“So far, we don’t have very much. This guy is smart. He did his best to make sure he remained unidentifiable. We’ll keep working on it and we will catch him.”
“Lovely!” Angelica pushed off the edge of the desk and paced toward the windowed wall. “While you work on it, some loony with a grudge is likely going to keep coming at us. Someone could get hurt—or worse, killed—before you catch him. Great. I feel so much safer now.”
Jack went to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Ang, he’s doing the best he can. Cut Connor some slack. Getting angry isn’t going to get this guy stopped any sooner. Let’s calm down and think.”
She took a deep breath and went to grab a bottle of water out of the minifridge behind her desk, and handed one each to Jack and Connor.
“Why don’t we take this from the top. Can either o
f you think of any enemies or anyone who has a grudge against either of you?”
Jack shook his head. “Someone in my position always has rivals, competitors, but someone I’d call an enemy? No.”
Angelica sat in her desk chair rubbing her thigh, brow furrowed. “Like I said last night, I have no idea. I mean, sure, I threw my name around and flexed my muscle a bit in getting this club up and running, but not so much as to make someone want to stalk and kill me.”
Her phone chimed. Angelica glanced at the device on her desk, then back at Jack and Connor.
She furrowed her brows. “What about Robert Dooley?”
Jack lifted an eyebrow at her. “Why him? He doesn’t exactly strike me as the stealth type. Hell, he walks so heavily, you can hear him coming and have ample time to hide.”
Both Angelica and Connor laughed at that. “Bob isn’t the type to get his hands dirty, so I don’t think he did any of this himself. But he’s got more than enough money to hire someone. I’m not sure why having a psychic in the club is such a hot button for him, but he sent me another e-mail about it yesterday.” She gestured toward her phone.
Jack dropped his head back and blew out a long breath. “Now what?”
“He blathered on about appearances and not wanting the Whitman name tied to something so disreputable. He knew I’d done all my legal homework, but considering the litigious nature of the society we live in, he yet again asked if it’s even wise to take the chance. Then it got a tad creepy. He started saying things like he’d hate to see anything happen to the club considering all the hard work I put in.”
Jack gripped the arms of the chair and leaned forward. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t know. It could mean any number of things. But considering all that’s going on, in hindsight the statement is unsettling.”
“You said this guy’s name is Robert Dooley?” Connor pulled out his cell phone and started making notes. “Let’s back up. When did the first of these strange occurrences start happening?”
Angelica worried her lip for a moment. “I guess about three weeks ago or so. I started getting these weird calls on my cell phone. Hang-ups, dead air, sometimes I thought I could hear someone breathing. They all came up either unknown or private, but sometimes people I need to speak with come up that way. At first I thought someone was pranking me. The calls irritated me. So at first I ignored them. Then I started having my assistant screen all of my phone calls. Once I started doing that, it seemed to stop.”
Jack flexed his fingers hard and settled his hands back onto the arm of the chair. “Ang, why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“Jack, it was just prank calls at the time. Annoying, yes. A cause to run to big brother? No.”
“What happened next?” Connor cut in before Jack could pursue the argument further.
“You know the rest. There were the texts, and then the break-in at my condo, and then last night.” Angelica looked at him. “Jack?”
Jack hesitated. He recalled the conversation he’d had with Chris about his so-called premonitions. He didn’t really believe in that stuff. A dream is just a dream, and some people have better intuition than others, don’t they? He looked at Connor, then his sister. His crazy, stubborn sister. He recalled the little girl he’d held as she cried after their mother died. Warmth spread through his chest as he studied her. She’d become an amazing, intelligent woman. Always, his staunchest supporter, even in the face of their father’s indifference, and the biggest pain in his butt. He’d never let anything happen to her. He’d do whatever it took to protect her, even make a fool of himself.
“I talked to Chris last night after you left. He told me about these dreams he’s been having.”
Connor raised a brow at him.
“Yeah, I know how it sounds, but I wanted to put it out there anyway.”
“Chris told you about that?” Angelica’s eyes flared wide, and she cocked her head and studied him with narrowed eyes.
“Is that so surprising?”
“A little bit, yeah.”
“Would either of you care to elaborate?” Connor waved a hand, drawing their attention back to him.
Angelica proceeded to tell Connor about Chris’s dreams, his abilities, and his mother’s warning. Jack pressed his lips together to keep from smiling as he watched Connor take in the information. The man just barely kept himself from rolling his eyes.
“So let me make sure I’m clear. This Chris pops up out of the blue with portents of doom and gloom. Happens to be around when all of these attacks are happening. And neither of you are even remotely suspicious that he’s involved.”
“It’s not him.” Angelica’s eyes flashed a hard and angry glare at Connor. “I knew you’d jump right to that conclusion. He’s my friend, I’ve known him for years, and he has no reason at all to come after us.”
“Well, it’s nice that you trust your friend, but I’d rather err on the side of caution and check him out.”
Angelica snorted. “Whatever. Do what you have to, but don’t waste too much time on a dead end.”
Connor shook his head and turned to Jack. “In the meantime, the best thing to do is increase security at the club, in the garage, and maybe in the hotel as well. I’d also make sure that neither of you goes anywhere alone.”
“Consider it done.”
“And, I know it’s a long shot, but see if maybe you can talk that one into staying at the hotel.” He shot a side-eyed glance at Angie. “There are more layers of security there that this guy will have to go through to get to her than at her townhouse. He’s already demonstrated how easily he can get in there with his little closet clean-out stunt.”
“Ang?”
She held up her hands. “I’m on board with the heightened security here in the club, and I’ll deal with a personal bodyguard if you feel it’s absolutely necessary. But I’m not moving into the hotel. I’m not going to let some pissed-off freak stop me from living my life and send me into full-on lockdown.”
As much as Jack wanted to do just that—hide her away in some bunker where no one could get to her—he knew his sister. You could only push so hard before she pushed back.
“What about Chris? Go ahead and do your check. I’m not worried about what you’ll find. But shouldn’t we warn him to be careful as well? He could have been killed just as easily as I. Chris could be a target too.”
A chill seeped through him and his entire body clutched at the thought. Then an image of the beautiful man with wary, electric blue eyes and a cautious smile popped into Jack’s mind and warmth filled him. Chris tugged at something deep inside him, just as he had all those years ago.
“I agree with Angelica. Do what you need to do in terms of background checks, but we really need to dig in my and Angelica’s past. This person is connected to us, not Chris, and I don’t want him getting caught in the crossfire.”
He glanced at his sister. If something happened to her, Jack would be devastated. In that moment, he also realized that if anything happened to Chris, a light would go out in his world before it had ever been given the chance to shine bright. Jack wouldn’t let that happen.
HE reclined in the shadows of his leather booth, sipped his bourbon, and scanned the crowd for familiar faces. Angelica hadn’t come onto the main club floor tonight, but he really hadn’t expected her to show. He smiled as he thought of the little gift he’d sent this morning. To have been a fly on the wall when she got his flowers and card. Jack probably lost his shit. He chuckled at the thought.
He started to take another sip but froze when Jack walked in. “Now this is unexpected.” He tracked Jack as he crossed to a screened-off area at the far side of the club. He watched Jack disappear behind the screen. A few minutes later, Jack reappeared at the entrance to the alcove with a dark-haired man. The man watched Jack as he headed for the club office. Interesting. He’d seen Jack and this guy at the marina. Jack had all but drooled over the man.
He slid out of his boo
th and headed to that alcove. A psychic, are you kidding me? What the heck is Jack doing with a psychic? Well, this is an unexpected wrinkle. His mother put a lot of stock in psychics. Most were charlatans, but a few…. He ground his teeth. Dammit. Before he could take the next steps in his plan, he’d need to find out if this guy had any legit talent. If this psychic turned out to be the real deal, he couldn’t take the chance that a stray vision might allow him to tip off Jack and Angelica to his plan. If not, well, sometimes collateral damage occurred in war.
If Jack’s little psychic meant anything to him, things could get very interesting. He crossed to the bar and ordered a fresh drink. He hitched himself up on a barstool and swiveled to watch the crowd again.
Jack, my friend, you’re making this too easy for me.
Chapter Five
JACK slipped into Chris’s reading room and claimed the client’s chair.
“Something I can do for you this evening?”
Jack smiled and skimmed his eyes down Chris’s body. Heat followed in the wake of that visual caress.
“You’re done at ten tonight, right?”
“Yeah, why?” Chris narrowed his eyes, not trusting that smile.
“I’d like to take you to dinner. I think we need to talk.”
“About?”
Jack pushed up from the table. “I’ll meet you back here at ten.”
“Jack?” Chris trailed after Jack as he slipped out of the alcove. “Jack!”
But Jack kept walking across the club, leaving Chris to stare after him with nerves flopping in his stomach.
All right, Jack Whitman, what the heck are you up to?
JACK arrived at Chris’s alcove at ten. He’d changed from his usual business suit into a black silk button-down shirt and slacks. The top two buttons of the shirt opened to expose a section of tanned chest. His rolled up sleeves revealed muscled forearms. Chris’s pulse sped up. He had to resist the urge to reach out and touch the exposed flesh. Does the man look bad in anything?