by Desiree Holt
“I’m still amazed at the abundance of articles on psychic healers,” Dan said. “Andy, our tech, tapped into more than a thousand items from both newspapers and magazines.”
“And I bet not too many of them flattering.” Lauren couldn’t help the edge in her voice.
Dan nodded, his mouth a grim line. “Most of it is because of ignorance,” he told her. “But that doesn’t lessen the impact.”
“Were you able to narrow all that down to something manageable?” Troy wanted to know.
“I had Andy do some runs with specific parameters. Healers who are women. Healers in a certain age group. Those who have received threats. We eliminated all those who charge a fee for their service. Then we ran a list of those in areas where you actually left here to attend a patient.”
“I usually keep my travel limited.” Lauren rose to refill her mug, aware that she was guzzling far more than her usual allotment of caffeine. “I suppose if someone called and was truly desperate, I’d go. But usually I recommend someone closer. Someone I trust.”
“What else?” Troy asked.
“We ended up with about two hundred possibilities when we filtered everything else out.”
Lauren frowned. “I know I haven’t worked with that many people.”
“That’s right,” Mark agreed. “But every one of your patients has relatives and close friends. Even when you’ve been successful there could be people who resent what you do. Who thought calling you in was just too much black magic. Any number of reasons we can’t even begin to imagine.”
“So what happens next?”
“Andy will do an in-depth run on every name on the list,” Mark answered. “By the time he’s finished we’ll know everything including the color of their underwear.”
Lauren lifted an eyebrow. “You can really do that?”
Mark laughed. “Honey, the database hasn’t been invented yet that Dragonslayer can’t dissect.” He sobered. “Troy, we’ll keep you updated as we check them all out. And we’re still working the trap and trace. I hate to say it, but it may end up being necessary for you to talk to him just to keep him on the line long enough to pinpoint his position.”
Troy rested an arm protectively over her shoulders. “I think that needs to be a last resort. You’ve heard the kind of crap that comes out of his mouth. I really don’t want to subject Lauren to that.”
“Neither do we,” Dan assured him. “And like Mark said, it’s only a last resort.”
“I’ll do it if it helps catch him,” Lauren insisted.
Troy squeezed her shoulder. “Let’s just see if we can locate him without it.”
“The one thing we all agree on,” Mark said, “is that you should not take any more cases until this is resolved.”
“I’ll say yes now, but if someone calls with a situation that’s really desperate, I’ll have to reconsider. You know that.”
“If that happens,” Troy said, “we’ll discuss it and figure out what to do.”
Lauren managed to get in some good solid time at her computer, answering emails and updating websites. She also returned calls to clients who had contacted her. Troy spent a lot of time on his cell checking in with Andy, then analyzing results with Dan and Mark. He also kept tabs on the crowd outside and made regular checks of the security system. At five they both quit what they were doing and she poured a glass of wine for each of them.
“I think we’ve both earned it, don’t you?” She smiled at him.
“I’ll drink to that.” He touched his glass to hers.
When the doorbell rang at six-thirty, Lauren turned to Troy with a wry look on her face.
“Get ready for the Inquisition,” she warned.
“He doesn’t scare me.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “It will be fine. Don’t worry.”
It was end of the day for Geoff. He’d ditched his suit jacket, loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves.
“Is this business casual?” Lauren teased.
“It’s the end of a rough day casual.” He lifted a hand. “You going to ask me in or do we have our discussion on the front porch?”
“Oh. Sorry. Would you like something cold to drink?” she asked as he followed her into the living room.
“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.” He eyed Troy then held out his hand. “Geoff Cahill.”
“Troy Arsenault,” he said as they shook hands.
“Play nice,” Lauren warned as she headed into the kitchen.
Better get right to it, Troy thought.
“I know you’re worried about your sister,” he began, “and I want to assure you she’s being well taken care of.”
“Yeah?” Geoff cocked his head. “Exactly how do you mean that?”
Troy wanted to punch him. Lauren was no teenager and her personal life really was her business.
“I mean that The Phoenix Agency is doing everything to ensure her safety until this latest situation dies down.”
“The Phoenix Agency. Right.” Geoff dropped into the armchair. “Mercenaries, right?”
Troy sat on his temper. This was Lauren’s brother, and it wouldn’t do to punch his lights out. He took a seat on the couch, crossed his legs so one ankle rested on the opposite knee.
“I’m guessing you don’t know very much about us,” he said. “If you researched us at all, you’d know we’re as far from that as possible.”
“I know that you take jobs all over the world. That Mark Halloran, who I’ve met once or twice, is always off fighting something or other, according to Lauren.”
Troy raised an eyebrow. “Is that what she said? Off fighting something or other?”
“Well, not exactly, but—”
“We’re all former military, so maybe that’s what gives you the idea. But I can assure you we run a top-flight security business. We train corporate security guards, handle hostage negotiations for high-level kidnappings, provide security for private citizens on a case-by-case basis. And we also do some contract work for the government. Does that fit your idea of a mercenary?”
Geoff Cahill at least had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed. “Sorry. I guess I just have a tendency to rush to judgment where my sister’s safety is concerned. And I know absolutely nothing about you personally.”
Troy nodded. “Fair enough. I served in the Navy for sixteen years, most of that time as a medic. Now I’m a partner in Phoenix. I have great parents who complain they never see me enough, a sister who’s married to a SEAL and lives in Coronado, and a brother who works on an oil rig. I’ve never been arrested, never been married, don’t have any stray kids littering the landscape. That about do it for you?”
“Children, children, children.” Lauren paused just inside the room holding a tray with three glasses on it. “Didn’t I tell you to play nice? Geoff, I’m smart enough not to let Troy stay here without Mark vouching for him. You think I’m an idiot?”
“I just—”
She gave Geoff a dirty look before setting down the tray. “Troy, my brother’s really been the only one in the family who’s stood up for me as far as my gifts are concerned. He even took me to see my Cherokee grandmother when my mother shut her out completely. She was great with me, taught me not to be afraid of the skills I’d been given and how to use them properly. I owe him a lot.”
“I’m aware of that. You already explained that to me.”
“Then both of you dial it down on the testosterone level and quit the pissing contest.” She handed out the glasses of iced tea before taking a seat next to Troy. “Now. If we can all act like adults, Geoff, I’ll give you a rundown on what’s been happening and what we’re doing.”
Troy sat in a relaxed pose, letting Lauren take the lead with her brother. It was obvious there was a great deal of affection between them, so Troy could forgive him their earlier exchange. As she laid it all out for him, including the stalker, Geoff clenched his fists and a muscle twitched in his cheek.
“How come you never told us it was this
bad before?” he demanded. “Didn’t you trust us to be able to help you?”
The smile she gave him was tinged with sadness. “First of all, you know how Mom and Dad would have reacted. Mom would love for me to deny all my gifts as it is and they’d use this to try to force me into not accepting any more patients. I can’t do that. They’d also demand I move in with them, which would be a total disaster. And finally, I’ve been handling it and I don’t want this mess to spill over into anyone’s life.”
Geoff glanced at Troy. “But you let a perfect stranger into your life.”
“That was Mark and Faith’s doing.” She wet her lips. “The media mob was a little crazier this time and my stalker decided to ramp up his calls. And believe me when I tell you that I feel a lot more secure having a professional in charge. No slam on you,” she added quickly. “It’s just what they do.”
Geoff looked hard at Troy. “Who’s paying for all this? The phone setup, the security system, the guard and you. This doesn’t all come cheap.”
Lauren glared at her brother. “First of all, I’m not exactly poverty-stricken, in case you haven’t been paying attention. I can pay my own way.”
Troy cleared his throat. “The Hallorans are good friends of Lauren’s and Mark made her a special deal on the equipment. It’s much safer for a woman living alone than her old one. As far as any fee where I’m concerned, I happen to be on vacation and visiting Mark and Faith, not doing much of anything. I was happy to volunteer my time.” He stared back at Geoff. “For as long as it takes.”
Geoff just shook his head then looked at Lauren. “Okay, kiddo. I guess I have to accept the fact you’re a grown woman and know what you’re doing. But that doesn’t mean I won’t still worry about you.” He glanced at Troy again. “Or make sure this guy is on the up and up.”
“No problem.” Troy stood up, pulled his wallet from his back pocket and extracted a card. “Here’s where to find anything you need about us.”
“Thanks.” Geoff stuck the card in his shirt pocket then rose to give his sister a hug. He looked from one to the other. “I don’t know if there’s anything else going on here between you two and you’re right, it’s probably none of my business. But I care a lot about Lauren. She’s had a hard time in relationships of any kind because her abilities affect how other people look at her. I just want you to know that from the start.”
Troy nodded. “Point taken. You can trust her with me.”
“Damn it, Geoff.” Lauren fisted her hands on her hips. “Enough already.”
“Don’t be too mad at me,” he begged. “I just want to protect you.”
“I know. But don’t you be mad if I tell you to butt out.”
He laughed. “We’ll get through this.” He held out his hand to Troy again. “No offense?”
“Not at all. If it was my sister I’d probably feel the same way.”
When she’d closed the door behind her brother Lauren let out a long breath and turned to Troy.
“Thanks for being such a good guy about it.”
He cupped her cheeks in his palms and gave her a slow smile. “It’s fine. I’ve dealt with a lot worse.”
At that moment the tiny radio he kept clipped to his waistband crackled alive.
“Mr. Arsenault? It’s Craig outside in the car.”
“Yeah, Craig. Go ahead.”
“For some reason, the crowd seems to be growing again. I think we could use one more person around here for a short while.”
Troy had answered the door whenever someone was bold enough to actually come up to the porch and ring the bell. He’d thought after he tossed the reporter from Psychic Journeys he’d pass the word, but apparently the ones still out there were more tenacious. Now he moved to the living room window and drew the curtain aside just enough to look out. The guard was right. The number of people had doubled and were crowding as close to the house as they could.
“Wonder what set them off today?” he mused.
“It’s Friday,” Lauren told them.
He looked at her. “And?”
She sighed. “They want something spicy for the weekend editions. All media. The fact that the Flanagans have made themselves scarce is frustrating them. And apparently there haven’t been any exciting crimes or scandals in the past couple of days.”
“I’ll call Mark. We’re borrowing guards from a local agency we often work with. He can get them to send us one more. Then why don’t we see what’s in your freezer for dinner and open another bottle of wine. It will relax you.”
“Sure.” She tugged her hair behind her ears. “I’m not all that hungry but the wine sounds good.”
Once the arrangements had been made, Troy went into her office to see if there were more calls from the stalker. Dan had been trying to trace them but they either led back to a burner phone or a pay phone. Seven calls today. He was escalating. Troy shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from clenching them into fists, and swallowed back his anger. It wouldn’t do to let Lauren see him this way. He was trying to make her feel safer, not worry her more.
He’d have to talk to Dan and Mark. They needed to find a better way to pin down this asshole.
Chapter Five
Reid McFadden was always grateful that Olberman insisted his people travel in comfort. No cheap-ass motel for him or Bonner. Instead they were registered at a semi-luxury hotel with spacious bedrooms opening off the living room of their suite and top- quality restaurants with excellent food. He leaned back in the comfortable chair in his hotel room and stretched out his legs. The meeting with Gayle Hauser had gone exactly as he’d expected. Under other circumstances, she would have been more suspicious and less open to his proposal. But Olberman had done his research very well, as usual, and knew the woman was in a desperate situation.
He pulled out his business cell phone and pressed speed dial for his boss.
“Well?” Olberman seldom bothered with the pleasantries of conversation.
“She bit, just as you predicted,” Reid told him. “I told her to wait a couple of days before calling. The media’s still camped out at the Cahill woman’s place and I don’t think she’d take a call right now. But I’m keeping tabs on both of them.”
“Good. Excellent. I’ve been making low-key overtures to people I know who could use her services and would pay exorbitantly for them. I want to get her here as soon as possible, but not until I know she’s the real deal.”
“I understand. By the way, I don’t know if it means anything, but the Cahill woman has a man staying with her. And a couple of others who’ve come and gone. Don’t know her relationship with the one man, but the others seem like friends.”
“See if you can get any shots of them. Send them to me and I’ll run them through the computer. Let’s see whose playing around in our swimming pool.”
“Will do. I’ll keep you updated.”
“As I expect you to.” The man disconnected without any further words.
Reid didn’t care. Olberman paid extremely well and tonight he’d enjoy the perks of his situation—a good meal, some excellent wine, and perhaps in the hotel’s elegant bar he would find an equally elegant female to help him pass the time.
* * * * *
Lauren was dreaming. In her dream she stood alone on the top of a mountain while below her an angry crowd rushed up the craggy outcroppings. She kept trying to back away from them but something was holding her firmly in place.
No! Keep away! Please!
As the mob drew closer, she held out her hands, trying to push them away, but someone was wrapping her in cloth so she couldn’t move. As the mob drew closer, the cloth drew tighter.
“Lauren. Lauren, it’s me.”
Hands trapped her, pulling at the tight fabric, and she couldn’t get away.
“Lauren, baby. Wake up.”
Someone was shaking her and she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe—
“Come on, Lauren. It’s okay.”
The voice was warm and f
amiliar, the sound of it piercing the fog of her brain. She forced her eyes open and found herself looking directly into Troy’s eyes.
“Troy?” She blinked. “What—How—” She looked at herself and realized she’d wound the top bedsheet around herself, trapping her body in its folds. She tried to unwind herself from it but only made it worse. She realized she was shivering yet her body was covered with a thin sheen of perspiration and she had trouble catching her breath.
Another damn nightmare.
She hadn’t had them for a long time. Hoped, in fact, that they were finally a thing of the past.
Apparently not.
“Easy, baby.” Troy’s hands were steady on her shoulders. “Jesus, Lauren, you scared the crap out of me. Take a deep breath and let me help you.”
Lauren’s stomach was pitching like the deck of a ship in a storm, but she did her best to remain still while Troy carefully undid the sheet that she’d somehow wrapped around herself like a mummy. When the air cooled by the fan overhead hit her bare skin, goose bumps popped out everywhere.
“Everything’s okay,” Troy murmured as he eased her back down onto her pillow. “Let’s get you warmed up.”
“Are you sure no one can get into the house?” That had always been her greatest fear. It was the reason for all the deadbolts and the safety locks on the windows. For the alarm system, which until Mark looked at it she hadn’t realized was inadequate.
“Positive. The house is safer than a bank vault.”
Sliding back in beside her, he pulled the covers up and curled his body around hers, wrapping her in his warmth.
“Bad dream?” he asked, stroking her hair, holding her tightly against his body.
“Yes.” Bits and pieces of it came back to her. “It was terrible.”
“Tell me about it.” His hand moved from her hair to caress her body, a soothing rather than a sexual touch.
“I’d rather just forget it.” A shudder sliced over her as the memory of it came back sharp and vivid.
“I think you’d feel better if you got it off your mind. Come on, Lauren. Let it loose.”
Eyes closed, her head pressed against his shoulder, her hands resting on his chest, she gave him the bits and pieces of the dream that had nearly—and almost literally—strangled her. His hand never stopped stroking her, touching her, giving her a contact point of safety. Settling her nerves.