On the Hunt

by Teyla Branton

  “Who’s that?” Shannon asked.

  We’d arrived outside my shop, where a bundled figure was pacing in front of my store. My employee, Thera Brinker, should be inside, but even if she wasn’t and the door was still locked, all my customers knew they could reach Autumn’s Antiques from the Herb Shoppe next door, owned by my friend and current boyfriend, Jake Ryan. Or I should say maybe-boyfriend, because even nearly six months into our relationship, we weren’t exactly sure where things were heading.

  The person outside was not a customer, then, but someone else waiting to see me.

  “I don’t know.” I peered at the tall figure. Besides the fact that the person was likely male, I couldn’t see much beyond the coat and the beanie he wore. I started to open the truck door.

  “Wait. I’m coming with you.”

  I sighed. Shannon had been annoying before he’d stopped being so suspicious of me, but this was ridiculous. Ignoring him, I jumped from the truck and hurried toward my store. The figure stopped pacing when he saw me.

  “Autumn,” he said, giving me a tentative smile. “Hey, are your eyes two different colors or is it just the light?”

  I’d know that smile anywhere—and the familiar greeting. My eyes were a different color, but only those who really saw me ever actually noticed. “Is that you, Bean Pole? Did you grow another three inches? Long time no see.”

  It’d been months, in fact, since I’d seen Liam Taylor. At least seven.

  Liam nodded. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.” Before I could respond, his gaze went beyond me to Shannon, who’d finally caught up to us.

  “Is he a cop?” Liam asked in an undertone.

  If Liam hadn’t been so serious, I might have laughed. He’d made Shannon as a cop dressed in civilian clothes on a Saturday afternoon. In the rain. That said a lot about Shannon—or about Liam. I hoped it was about Shannon and not Liam because I’d thought he’d come a long way since I first caught him shoplifting in my store.

  “Why? You got something to hide?” Trust Shannon to make a comeback like that.

  “Shannon’s a friend,” I said to Liam, throwing Shannon a glare. “What do you need to see me about?”

  Liam shivered. “Can we go inside? I brought you something to, uh, see.”

  He meant something to read, as in imprints. A knot formed inside me. I hoped he wasn’t in trouble. Either way, I had to get Shannon out of the picture.

  “Okay, just a minute and we’ll go inside.” I turned to Shannon. “Thanks for the lesson.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to stay?” He was using his eyes to full advantage, as if he knew their effect on me.

  “I’m fine. Jake’s next door if I need help.”

  Shannon stiffened. Wrong thing to say, but he knew my feelings for Jake, and I wasn’t going to start hiding them now simply because I was also attracted to Shannon.

  “Liam’s harmless,” I added. “He used to work for me.”

  Only a little bit of a stretch. I’d put Liam to work after I’d caught him shoplifting one of my antique music boxes last year. He’d seemed sincere when he said it was to send to his sister for her birthday. I hadn’t simply given it to him like my father would have done—or invited him to dinner and ask if he needed a place to stay. I was too poor to go that far. But I had let him work off the music box in exchange for helping move and arrange my displays. I even gave him the music box wholesale so he wouldn’t have to work more than a few days.

  After that, I’d given him several more odd jobs I could barely afford whenever he was desperate, just enough to keep him honest. Then he’d graduated from high school and found a real job for the summer. He was supposed to be in college now, living on a merit scholarship and a bit of help from his parents.

  “I’ll call you about the safe.” Shannon’s eyes followed Liam, who was already opening the door to my store.

  “Okay.”

  It was awkward leaving Shannon, though it hadn’t always been. Now I never knew if I should hug him or say something to push him away. Lately, I’d really, really wanted not to push him away, but there was still Jake, and I didn’t want to hurt him.

  I followed Liam into my store and motioned him to wait in the back room so I could help Thera with the rush of people. Normally, I would have taken time to at least wave to Jake, but there was no chance of that now. Saturday mornings were always brisk in the antiques shop, and I had to hurry from my early morning taekwondo class to get there in time to help. The afternoons usually picked up from there. It was good for my pocketbook, though it made it hard to dart out at lunchtime for a brief shooting lesson. Unfortunately, Saturday was the only time Shannon was available during the day, and an evening seemed too much like a date to me.

  “How did the lesson go?” Thera asked. As usual her white hair was swept up in an elegant knot, and she was wearing all blue, which she insisted was a calming color.

  That reminded me of the weight in my coat pocket, one I couldn’t rid myself of in front of my customers. “Apparently, I’m a natural.”

  “I thought you might be. You have good instincts.”

  I shrugged off the coat and set it under the counter, followed by my boots. I wiggled my freed toes and sighed with relief.

  “Well, about most things,” amended Thera, glancing at my feet in disapproval. She was always worried I’d catch my death of cold, even in midsummer, or contract some strange illness, no matter how many times I told her I washed my feet more than most people washed their hands—and how she touched a lot worse things on doorknobs. She didn’t want to hear it.

  “I hope you got a chance to grab some lunch,” she added, “because it’s been like this the whole time you were gone.”

  “I did.” We’d eaten sandwiches Shannon had bought on our way to the range. I felt bad for leaving Thera on a day when it was so busy, but Shannon had been insistent. He obviously still felt responsible for the last time I’d been hurt.

  When we were down to the last customer at the register and two more who were browsing, Thera turned to me, waving a blue-clad arm. “I can take care of the rest. That boy seems kind of anxious. He’s poked his head out half a dozen times already.”

  “Thanks.”

  In my narrow back room, which ran the width of my store, Liam wasn’t sitting in the comfortable easy chair that beckoned to me with an almost hypnotic call. He’d taken off his coat and laid it on the long worktable but was pacing from the shop door to the bathroom at the far end. He was as lanky as always—college life hadn’t improved that—and his hair looked as though he hadn’t combed it in a week, though it didn’t seem greasy.

  “So what’s up?” I asked, ignoring my easy chair and going to heat water on the stove so I could make a nice soothing herbal tea. I wanted to ask if he was in trouble, but he’d come to me, and I’d let him tell me what he wanted in his own time. I took two mugs from the overhead cupboard.

  “It’s Rosemary, my sister.”

  I turned to look at him more closely. His brown eyes were worried and tinged with red that probably came from too many late nights and cram study sessions. “Is it her birthday again? Do you need a present? How about another music box?”

  My attempt to lighten the mood didn’t even register. “She’s missing,” he said.

  “What makes you say that?”

  He stopped pacing and pulled at the side of his hair. “She was supposed to meet me yesterday for lunch when she had a rehearsal break, but she never showed up.”

  “Maybe she forgot.”

  “She wouldn’t do that. We haven’t seen each other in like a year. She’s not even answering her cell. I’d go to her apartment, but I don’t know where she’s staying. My parents say she’s a flake and not to worry, but that’s only because they’re still mad about how she dropped out of college to tour with that theater company a couple of years ago.”

  I had to play devil’s advocate. “What makes you think they’re wrong?” I placed lose tea in the infuser.
Lemon balm, Liam’s favorite, with no caffeine or anything else to get him more worked up.

  “She’s only been back a few weeks, and she wouldn’t leave without seeing me. We’ve talked a lot on the phone, and she was all excited about a new part she was trying out for with some other theater company. Said it was a smaller outfit but with better connections. She practiced day and night to get the part, and then she did. She was so excited. I know she wouldn’t just disappear. I went over to the company, but she hadn’t shown up to rehearsal yesterday.” His eyes held mine. “Please, Autumn. I don’t know who else can help.”

  “Maybe the police.”

  “That’s why I asked if that guy was a cop. I thought I recognized him from the newspaper article about that real estate fraud business going on last summer. I was hoping he was and that you might get him to help.”

  Oh, I’d read that situation completely wrong. I’d been thinking Liam’s problems were the kind that bordered on unlawful and that it’d be easier to convince him to make good without Shannon hovering over us menacingly.

  “Well, she’s an adult with a history of taking off, so the more proof we have, the better. But if your sister really is missing, we’ll need to let the police search for her. They have information I don’t have access to.”

  “Yeah, but they can’t read imprints.” He crossed to the worktable and yanked a plastic grocery sack from the pocket of his coat—a deep pocket by the size of whatever was in the bag. “She had a cubby at the theater company. I took these from it when they weren’t looking.” Liam flushed. “It wasn’t stealing.”

  “Of course not.” I took a deep breath. Probably these imprints wouldn’t tell me anything. Since the items had simply been sitting on her shelf, it wasn’t likely I’d have to relive a murder or a kidnapping.

  I hoped.

  Liam waited, the sack extended. Before taking it, I removed the antique rings I wore to dull any unexpected imprints I might accidentally touch when I was out and about. When I wasn’t wearing gloves, that is. The rings held comforting imprints that would counter any negative ones, but they would also get in the way of my perception if the imprints I wanted to read weren’t very strong.

  Months had passed since I’d come across a seriously evil imprint, but I remembered how it had sapped my strength. I’d wondered what might happen if someday I went too deep, if the imprint was too intense, too horrible.

  There was no one to ask, so I had no clue. I’d been helping Shannon and his partner, Paige, on cases, but I suspected Shannon had deliberately kept me from consulting on the really bad ones— murders, rapes, brutal muggings. I hadn’t pushed. Now I felt guilty. While I was protecting myself, how many more people had been hurt?

  I reached for the grocery sack. Liam watched me intently, not pushing. He was that sort of kid. Patient, studious, dedicated to his sister. Dedicated enough to steal an antique music box for her.

  Gently, I shook out the contents of the sack onto the worktable—a worn copy of a play script, a square bag with a makeup brush peeking from one end of the zippered top, a pair of leather gloves, a brush, and a small see-through purse filled with elastics, hair clips, and bobby pins. It wasn’t much, but if she’d used these objects every day, there might be imprints.

  Probably not on the gloves, though they were leather and had a better chance than regular cloth. Clothes that were often washed and things easily dismissed or forgotten never evoked enough emotion to hold imprints. Fortunately, or my life would be a living nightmare. I’d have to wear gloves to buy fruit and milk at the corner grocery.

  There were definitely imprints on the objects. I could feel them radiating, beckoning. What I couldn’t tell without touching them was if they were positive or negative imprints. If I could figure that out, my life would be a lot more simple.

  “Autumn,” came a voice from the door.

  I lifted my gaze to see Jake’s dark, good-looking face, framed by the black locs that always made people stop and notice. In his customary snug T-shirt, he looked strong and a little dangerous, but anyone seeing him help fragile old ladies in his herb shop would change their minds about that in a hurry. He’d been my best friend for nearly two years and a little bit more than my friend since this past summer. I’d trust him with my life.

  “Hi, Jake.”

  His eyes took in the objects Liam had brought and the antique rings I’d set down next to them. A flash of hurt registered on his face. Once he’d been my biggest supporter where imprints were concerned, but after our summer run-in with a branch of organized crime and a crooked attorney who’d stooped to kidnapping and illegal adoption, Jake had begun to exhibit reluctance about my reading imprints.

  He no longer brought in anyone who wanted imprints read, and he didn’t encourage me to talk about helping people. I knew his guilt ran deep about having been unable to protect me, and nearly dying himself hadn’t helped matters, but I figured that was something he would have to get over on his own. I’d finally been honest with myself about what I now saw as my calling, and I couldn’t let his fear stop me, even if I knew it stemmed from love. Besides, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  Or so I’d thought.

  There had been a time when, if Jake had found me about to read something, he would have put his arms around me and drawn me close for a strengthening kiss—and a part of me still wished he’d do that. But he knew I wasn’t sure of my feelings, and that was enough for him to back away. Not completely, though. He’d made it clear how he felt about me. Now it was my turn. He was my best friend, and I loved him, but I didn’t know if I loved him enough. As much as he loved me.

  “You remember Liam,” I said to cover the awkwardness.

  Jake dragged his eyes from the table. “Oh, yeah. Hey, Bean Pole, how you been?”

  “Okay.” Liam nodded a greeting but didn’t elaborate, anxiousness exuding from him in waves.

  I’d better hurry, or he might lose it altogether. “His sister’s missing,” I told Jake. “I’m going to—” I shrugged. “You know.”

  Jake’s gaze came back to me. “You should have called me. I’d like to help.”

  I understood what it cost him to say that, but I wasn’t sure I wanted him to stay—though if the imprints were bad, it’d be safer for me if he did. He knew what to do.

  Jake glanced out the door into the store and frowned as though remembering something.

  “Did you need help in the Herb Shoppe?” I asked. He could be here only to see me, but when I’d come in, he’d had more customers than I had, so I suspected another reason.

  “No.” His face became more animated, but the line of concern on his brow deepened. “There’s a woman in the Herb Shoppe. Her name is Suzy Olsen. She came in looking for your mom.”

  “For Summer?” My adoptive mother had died when I was eleven, and I was surprised one of her acquaintances hadn’t heard.

  “Well, she didn’t want Summer. Or not exactly. She was looking for Summer only to ask her about Kendall. She says she knew her.”

  All at once there wasn’t enough air in the room. Kendall was the almost sixteen-year-old who’d died after giving birth to my sister and then to me—twins who’d been separated by the attending physician and given to two adoptive couples. I knew little more than that, and every lead we’d researched had gone dry.

  Until now.

  END OF SNEAK PEEK. If you would like to purchase Upstaged on Smashwords, please click here. Or continue to the next page for a bonus sample of The Change, the first novel in the author’s Unbounded contemporary urban fantasy series. Enjoy! To learn more about the author and her books, please continue to the About the Author section following the bonus preview.

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  ON THE DAY I SET foot on the path to immortality, I was with Justine in her car driving down 95th on our way to pick out her new sofa. Ordinary. That’s what the day was. The plain kind of ordinary that obscures the secrets lurking in the shadows—or behind the faces of those you love.
/>   Justine was the sister I’d never had, and our relationship was close to official since her brother had asked me twice to marry him. Tom was sexy, persuasive, and best of all, dependable. The next time he asked, I was considering saying yes.

  A van came from nowhere, slamming into Justine’s side of the car.

  Just like that. No warning.

  Justine jerked toward me but was ultimately held in her seat by the safety belt. My head bounced hard off the right side window. A low screeching grated in my ears, followed by several long seconds of utter silence.

  An explosion shattered the world.

  When the smoke began to clear, I saw Justine’s head swing in my direction, though not of her own volition. Her blue eyes were open but vacant, her face still. Fire licked up the front of her shirt. Her blond hair melted and her skin blackened.

  “No!” The word ripped from my throat.

  I tried to reach out to Justine, but my arms wouldn’t move. Heat. All around me. Terror. Pain. The stench of burning flesh.

  Fire and smoke obscured my vision, but not before I saw something drip from the mess that had been Justine’s face. We were dying. This was it. The point of no return. I thought of my parents, my grandmother, my brothers, and how they would mourn me. I couldn’t even think about Tom.

  A premonition of things to come?

  I lost consciousness, and when I came to I was lying flat on my back. A sheet covered my face. I was suffocating.

  “Witnesses say . . . in flames almost on impact,” a man’s voice was saying. “A fluke . . . not for the fire . . . might have survived.”

  I turned my face, struggling to move my mouth from the sheet. Searching for air. Agony rippled up my neck and all over my head and down my body, the pain so decimating that it sapped all strength from me. I couldn’t move again, but that little bit had been enough.