Touch of Betrayal, A

by Charles, L. J

  “Gun.” I tried to reach around him to rescue my bag.

  “Shush, now,” he hissed in my ear, his body vibrating with tension. “No talking until you have your feet under you and a cold drink in your hand.”

  It was a warning, but I couldn’t figure out why since Mitch’s handler was watching from across the baggage carousel. There was no way could he hear us over the rumbling of the belt. I searched my muddled brain for facts. There’d been the flashing red light and warning buzzer before the luggage started spilling onto the conveyer belt, and then I shook hands with Chad. I grabbed my head, pushing into the pain with my knuckles to stop the images rolling over my internal screen. “Demon,” I whispered.

  His shoes came into view first. Brown wing tips. Tied in double-knotted bows. I carefully raised my head to meet his stare, and forced my lips into a tight smile, grateful for the huge sunglasses covering my eyes and a good part of my face. Now if I could just keep from puking all over his shoes. Or maybe that was the perfect thing to do. A smile tugged at my lips.

  “Is your wife all right, Mitchell?” His voice etched another hole in my brain.

  “Migraine. They hit her like this when she flies, but it should ease up after I get her outside.” His hand bit into my waist, and he dragged me toward the elevator.

  Chad the Demon followed, all but stepping on my heels.

  “I’ll check in with you later, Chad, soon as I get Everly settled.” It was a tacit dismissal.

  The demon ignored it, crowding me, his breath hot on my neck. My stomach burned with nausea and a hefty dose of fear. And those hideous shoes were looking mighty pukeable.

  Mitch pounded his fist on the elevator call button.

  Chad tapped his watch. “I’ll be waiting.” And then his blank-eyed stare focused on me. “You rest now. Get rid of that headache so you can join us for supper.”

  The elevator doors opened, and Mitch tried to hustle me inside. I stopped him and groaned, pressing my palm against my stomach. “Can’t. Too sick.”

  It wasn’t a total lie. I’d be okay as soon as I got away from Chad Burr’s disgusting energy, but no way could I endure a meal with him, not until I had time to deal with the images.

  Mitch took a step toward Chad, slightly intimidating. “Everly won’t be able to eat much for at least twenty-four hours. The migraines make her very ill.”

  Way to go, Mitch. I buried my smile against his chest.

  Chad harrumphed. “Tomorrow night. I’ll see you then. Check with me for the details.”

  Mitch nodded, and, without another word punched the number for our floor, then put his finger against my lips, playing the role of a loving husband like he’d been trained for the part. But then he had trained. For over a year now. My stomach lurched. Questions lined up waiting for answers. I clamped my lips shut and tried to shut off the nausea—and the images racing through my head.

  The elevator doors closed, locking us in blessed silence.

  “Who…?”

  Mitch slapped his hand over my mouth and shook his head again.

  When we got to the truck—he’d rented one just like Adam’s, only blue—he tossed his new phone in the bed with a loud clatter. “Damn it. Slipped right out of my hand.” His grin belied his tone. “Come on, let’s get you comfortable, Sunshine.”

  I remained mute while he helped me into the passenger seat, and then I mouthed, “Bugged?”

  He dipped his chin, circled around the back of the truck and slid behind the wheel. After he revved the engine a few times, he took a thin notebook out of his pocket and wrote, You okay?

  I nodded as best I could without jarring my headache, snatched the pad and pencil from his hand, and wrote while I talked. “I’m just gonna sleep on the way to Annie’s, okay?”

  “Whatever works, Sunshine. These migraines are a bitch for you, I know.”

  Shivers stole along my spine, anxiety spiking with his every word. Mitch sounded scared. He was hiding it well, but I’d been living with the man long enough to recognize scared when I heard it. I jotted down my most pressing questions. What happened to me? Adam? Whitney?

  His eyebrows arched, and he shook his head, scribbled Not sure. Later, and then zipped out of the parking lot.

  Not that I’d ever wondered, but now I knew for sure that it was pure hell to keep my mouth shut when my brain had a list of questions stacked up that I was desperate to have answered. It gave me triple-espresso shakes.

  Not being able to talk put a real damper on conversation, so I squinched down in my seat and rested my aching head against the corner of the headrest.

  No time like the present to work on learning how to shield myself from the monster scenes that had embedded themselves in my brain. I built an energetic shield similar to the one I used to protect Mitch from my ESP fingers, only this time I tried to block myself from my video screen.

  Not an easy task. The energy kept slipping away, like it wanted me to watch Chad murder Mitch over and over again. I gave up and shut out everything but the rumble of tires rushing over pavement, finally dropping into an uneasy meditation.

  “Wake up, Sunshine.” Mitch tapped my shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you inside,” he said, unfastening my seatbelt.

  “Did I sleep?” I wasn’t sure. My mind was groggy, and exhaustion penetrated every single muscle.

  Mitch wrapped his arm around me. I shook him off. “No. I want to do this alone. It’ll help wake up my brain.”

  I wobbled on the way to Annie’s house, but made it with only one stumble, when I attempted to open the screen door and pivot around the edge to get into the kitchen. Annie caught my arm, and glared at Mitch. “What happened? I watched you coming up the drive, and way too fast, I might add.”

  “Bugs?” he mouthed.

  She held up a finger and grabbed a wand off the kitchen counter, and then waved it over both Mitch and me. “You’re clean, and I swept the house right after I put Maddie down for her nap. Not that anyone could get in here without me knowing, but it’s a habit. I check every day. Always have.”

  Mitch rolled his neck until it cracked. “My handler showed up unexpectedly and Everly fainted. Made for an interesting afternoon. I’m not sure what happened to Adam.”

  I stretched to my full height, my balance almost back to normal. “I did not faint. The images from Chad the Demon short-circuited my brain cells, and I shut down to stop the slideshow. He’s as evil as they come—torture, rape, murder—a pro at anything and everything diabolical.”

  “Diet Coke or Irish whiskey?” Annie asked, jerking out a chair and motioning me to sit.

  “Coke with lots of ice. I’m sucking the Sahara here.” I slipped off Whitney’s sunglasses, and laid my head on the kitchen table. “Maybe a handful of Aleve while you’re at it.”

  Mitch wandered to the sink and filled a glass of water for himself before he sat across from me. “What happened, Sunshine?”

  I rolled my forehead against the cool wood table then sat up. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

  Annie handed me two blue tablets and a glass of Diet Coke, the ice cubes crackling with comfortable familiarity. I chugged half the glass, washing down the painkiller. Panic broke through my pretend calm. “Only thing I know for sure is that you’re going to be caught in a fire. It looked like the rental truck exploded and you burned to death. The thing is, it was one of those future ESP visions, and they’re rarely exact. Details can be off, and sometimes…rarely…they don’t happen at all.”

  Dead quiet.

  Mitch scrubbed his hands over his face. “Annie, I’ll have a double of that Irish whiskey, if you don’t mind?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Your ESP fingers showed you that?”

  I nodded then slugged down the rest of my drink. It helped to settle my stomach.

  “When?”

  “Don’t know, but Chad the Demon is the murderer. You have to go away, Mitch. Between Pierce, Adam, and Annie, I’m sure they can get you a new identity, move you
completely off the grid and away from that monster.” He wasn’t listening to me, and his eyes had glazed over with a sheen of stubbornness.

  “Not an option. I’m the only thing standing between you and… you’re sure it’s Burr that’s going to kill me?” His tone was so matter-of-fact, he could have been asking me if I’d done the laundry.

  My anxiety spiked another notch. “As sure as my fingertips ever are. I got three images and they all—”

  Adam slammed into the kitchen, two strides brought him in front of Mitch, and he leaned in. “What the hell happened? You blocked me from getting Everly out of there.”

  Mitch didn’t blink. “My handler crashed the party. I protected Everly. If he’d suspected anything, she’d be with him right now instead of here. Safe. No way could I let him know you were our backup, or that we even had backup.”

  Adam snarled deep in his throat. I’d never heard a sound like that come from my surrogate brother, and a shot of fear cascaded down my back. “You sound like Pierce on a bad day.”

  Adam caught my chin in his hand and tipped my face up. “You okay? Scared the shit out of me watching that scene at the airport.”

  Annie popped open a fresh can of soda and set it on the table in front of me, then planted her hands on her hips. “Start at the beginning, and make it fast because I have to get Maddie in fifteen minutes. Adam, help yourself to a drink.”

  Mitch scraped his chair back and stood. “I’ll get the drinks. Whiskey or soda, Adam?”

  “Whiskey. And where the hell is Pierce, Annie?” Adam’s voice vibrated with barely checked anger.

  I focused on emptying a second can of soda into my glass. Not that I wasn’t wondering about Pierce’s activities myself, but nothing I had to say would improve the silence.

  “Here.” Pierce barked the single word, and everyone swiveled to stare. He stood in the archway between the kitchen and family room. Wet. A towel was slung around his neck, and a pair of black swim trunks rode low on his hips.

  My vision started to cloud. No man should be allowed to give a woman an orgasm by simply strolling into a room.

  Mitch sputtered, smacking the bottle of Jameson’s on the counter. “Now you show up? Had a nice swim, did you?”

  “Yeah. Cleared my head.” Pierce leveled his gaze on Mitch, yanked out a chair, sat, and then took a long swallow of my Diet Coke.

  I jerked the glass out of his hand. “Mine.” No way was I gonna let him start a pissing contest with Mitch.

  His eyes sparkled with mischief. It’s damn hard to stay ticked off with a big, sexy leprechaun.

  Adam aimed his finger at Pierce. “Stay on topic.”

  Pierce rocked back in his chair. “Got ’em.”

  I whirled to face him. “Exactly what does that mean?” Excitement and apprehension chased through me, leaving behind a trail of hope liberally mixed with fear. Had he killed a former member of his team? More than one?

  Pierce scanned the room, his gaze resting for a nanosecond on everyone, and then he studied me.

  A chill whisked along my neck.

  “Two names. Two locations. One is local and will be eliminated by morning. The other will be more challenging.” Cool calm emanated from Pierce, and the chill grazing my nape slipped down my spine.

  Adam downed his whiskey. “You want me to take this? I can hand the local bastard’s name to HPD.”

  “I’ve got it.” Steel threaded Pierce’s words. “But I need to know what else is on the table.”

  Mitch sat next to me, scooting his chair close. “Everly and I have to be at dinner with my handler tomorrow night. Seven-thirty.”

  “When did he give you a time?” I asked, my mind pulling a blank.

  Mitch glanced at me. “Texted me while you were asleep.”

  “Whoa,” Adam said. “Back up on that one and start at the beginning.”

  Annie shot a look at the wall clock. “You have five minutes, Mitch. Start talking.”

  He rattled off the details of our experience at the airport with succinct accuracy, like a detailed police report. Probably learned the skill in spy training class. Banked anger flared in my gut.

  Save your anger for later, Everly. Ask questions now.

  I knew most of what Mitch shared, but wanted clarification on one point. “So you caught me before I hit the floor?”

  “Yeah. The railing on the staircase slowed your fall, and gave me a split second to grab you. Turned out we were lucky and didn’t catch the attention of the passengers swarming around the baggage carousal or any security personnel.”

  So why were my spidey senses tingling? “But Chad Burr noticed.”

  Mitch looked down, threaded his hands together. “Yeah. He was standing right there. I slipped you away when a woman with a stroller passed between Chad and us, and then moved you to the corner seating area. Raised some questions, and that’s why we can’t cancel dinner with him tomorrow. Doesn’t give us much time to work up a plan.”

  “Where’s dinner?” Adam asked. “I’ll see if Whitney can help me cover the restaurant since Pierce is going to be…busy.”

  “Close by, so we won’t have to make the trip into Honolulu. Burr ordered us to meet him at the Chinese restaurant on Kamehameha Highway.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  For the second time in two hours my head swam with images. They weren’t fresh this time, but flew out of the storage cabinets in my brain, filling my video monitor with the scenes I’d picked up from Whitney Boulay. The one in the Chinese restaurant. And the one with the knives.

  I cased the inhabitants of Annie’s kitchen with a surreptitious glance. Didn’t look like anyone noticed that my mind had taken a short break.

  Annie’d gone to collect Madigan from her play date with the neighbor, Mitch and Adam were chatting about surveillance strategy for our dinner with Chad Burr. No one would notice. I scooted out of my chair and headed for the back door. Mitch had dropped my handbag in the corner when we got back from the airport, and there were things I had to do.

  Pierce barred my way, the scent of chlorine and damp skin invading my space. “Going somewhere?”

  “No.” I snagged the strap of my handbag, rummaged around, and dug out my cell. “Making a call to Whitney Boulay.”

  He waited.

  A Tynan Pierce stare never failed to make me talk. The man knew how to work with silence. “Two images came when I shook hands with Detective Boulay. One looked like she was giving me a knife-handling lesson, the other was at the Chinese restaurant. Both were future scenes.” I held his gaze. “You know how rare future images are for me, Pierce?”

  He leaned around me to nab an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. “Only that you don’t mention them often. Anything I have to worry about?”

  I shook my head, punching in Whitney’s number. “I don’t think so. I’m going to see if she can meet me early tomorrow to do the knife thing. Seems like the images should play out in the order they appeared, and since we have dinner scheduled with Chad the Demon tomorrow night...”

  I lifted my cell to my ear, my gaze trailing up Pierce’s body to his face. How could eating an apple possibly be that sexy? I stifled a hormone surge, and grinned. “You know, you and Whitney would make an amazing couple.”

  “I’m not touching that one, Belisama. Gonna shower. Text me with the details of your plans.”

  I watched him stroll out of Annie’s kitchen, drawn back to my cell only when I heard Whitney answer. She agreed to meet me at Annie’s at ten the next morning, barring any traffic complications.

  “Hey. Guys.” I used my outside voice, and both Adam and Mitch gave me their full attention. “I’m going to shower, and I’ve scheduled some time with Whitney Boulay for knife work. She’ll be here tomorrow morning. Give us some space, huh? This is a woman thing.”

  Adam frowned. “You called Boulay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good choice. She grew up at Scotland Yard. There’s no guns in the UK, but there are knives, and Boulay is
an expert. Can’t believe you called her, though.”

  I gave him my best impish grin. “While you guys were kibitzing over what to do, I took care of it. You can give her the specifics about dinner after we’re done with my practice session.” I focused on Adam. “Is there anything that needs to happen in Annie’s security room before Whitney gets here?”

  “Who’s Whitney?” Annie asked, nudging the screen door open with her foot while balancing a diaper bag in the crook of her elbow, and a drowsy Maddie in her arms.

  Adam lifted his niece from Annie’s grasp. “Detective. Works with me and is helping with surveillance on Everly.”

  Annie gave me a baby powder hug. “You okay?”

  “I’ve been better, but yeah. I’m okay. You just change Maddie’s diaper?” I grinned.

  “Um-hmm. Guess I smell like baby powder.”

  “Yep. I’m chilling for the rest of the night, people. Looks like we’re scheduled to share Chinese with Mitch’s handler, Chad the Demon, tomorrow, so feed me anything except Asian food tonight. And just FYI, since Mitch isn’t telling you, C the D is planning to kill him. The images I got were future, so could be way off, but I think we should all be on alert. Maybe keep Mitch in protective custody.”

  With those words clinging to the space in front of me, whatever energy I had left seeped through my toes and into the ground, leaving behind a mess of panic and sadness. But it was worth it to stake my claim as a key member of the team, not just someone to watch over and protect.

  Annie frowned. “Future images aren’t your best, but I still better have a chat with Mitch. And I’ll take care of switching up the security stuff tomorrow so Detective Boulay doesn’t set off the alarms. ETA?” Annie asked, heading for the stairs.

  “Ten o’clock, give or take.” I hustled past the foot of the staircase, and made my way to the promise of a hot shower.

  It was cleansing, and I’d drenched myself in the Pikake shower gel and lotion. Smell is supposed to be the most powerful sense, and if it could help me drown out all the negative images from Chad the Demon, I was all for it. I gave up on style, left my hair to dry naturally, and pulled on some ratty lounge pants and a tank top I’d left in the dresser on a previous visit. They felt like home.