"But who—"
"No one knew about it. No one could have known about it.” He moved to the kitchen, flipping the light on as he put water on to boil for hot chocolate. “Probably a kid snooping around. Got scared when he heard us come in and knocked the device over on his way to the window."
Zack didn't believe it for a moment, but then nothing else sounded rational either. He opened a cabinet door and took out two mugs, slamming them onto the counter before reaching for the box of instant cocoa. From the corner of his eye he saw Justine approach. She'd taken off her coat, and not for the first time that night Zack noticed how the dark blue velvet dress hugged her waist and hips.
"I know why you're so angry,” she said. She took the packets from his unresisting hands and tore them open, dumping the contents into the mugs. “You're angry not only because someone was in your home, but because you don't think I believe you now."
His laugh was abrupt and without humor. “Why should you? If I were you, I probably wouldn't believe me either."
Justine cocked her head, considering his words. Either he was very good and she was a damned fool, or something very strange was going on. Strange...like the muzzle on the parrot and the sprinkler system coming on without rhyme or reason? And she hadn't forgotten how the covering on the bird cage had mysteriously changed textures twice.
A string of odd coincidences, or was someone pulling a few rather clever tricks? Finally, she sighed. “I expected you to believe me, didn't I?"
Zack laughed again, but this time he seemed genuinely amused as he pointed out, “We can't agree to believe each other, because one of us has to be wrong.” He poured hot water into the mugs and carried them to a small dinette table, pulling out a chair for her before seating himself. “Either I'm lying about you calling, or you're lying about not calling."
She followed and took a seat across from him, determined to keep her temper in check until they figured this thing out. Maybe she was a fool to believe him, but every instinct told her he was telling the truth.
But...so was she.
"Zack, are you certain it was my voice you heard?” When he looked up at her, her breath caught in her throat at the raw emotion in his eyes. He effectively masked it, leaving her to wonder if she had imagined it. She decided after a brief moment that she must have, because if he cared, why would he have walked out on her without a word? Stop it! You know how dangerous it is to think about then, especially with him sitting across from you!
He lowered his gaze, absently stirring the dark liquid. “I know your voice like I know my own,” he said softly. “Or at least I thought I did."
Justine leaned forward. “What do you mean?"
"Well...” Zack rubbed his jaw, then sighed. “You did sound a little strange.” His gaze met hers. “And you hung up without saying goodbye."
"Zack, I didn't call you back.” She felt an urgency to convince him, because in convincing him, she hoped to restore her own slipping sanity. “I swear."
"I believe you,” he said slowly. “But if you didn't call me, then who was it? Does anyone else have a key to the store?"
Chris. Chris had a key, and so did Clay in case something happened to her and he needed to get inside to see to the animals. “Yes, but I trust them totally."
She did. To consider for one moment that Clay would pull an immature stunt like that was ludicrous. Chris wouldn't either, she was sure of it. He was young, but she'd known him since he was a small boy and he'd never been the trickster type.
"What about your nephews?” Zack asked abruptly.
Justine bit her lip. She hated to consider it, but she supposed it was possible they could get Clay's key. “Drew would think such a stunt immature. Colby might, but I happen to know he was at basketball practice around the time you think I called.” She hesitated. That left—
"And Jordan?"
"If any of my nephews were responsible, there was no malicious intent,” Justine said defensively. She took a sip of her cocoa, hoping he'd let it drop. The last thing she wanted to do was tell Zack that Jordan had been the only nephew unaccounted for Friday night.
"Is Jordan angry with me, Justine?"
Damn his soft voice. It was incredibly hard to be mad at someone who could turn her knees to jelly with a few soft-spoken words! She licked the chocolate from her lips, sensing his gaze following the movement. Heat flared in her belly. She quickly staunched it. “Of course he's mad at you, but he didn't even know about us, so he couldn't have made the call.” To her relief, he nodded and gave her a boyish, lopsided smile.
"Back to square one."
Justine mentally hardened her heart against his charm. If she weren't careful, she'd find herself forgiving him. She shuddered just thinking about falling in love with Zack all over again. In her opinion, heart pain was the worst kind of pain, and in this instance—avoidable.
"Justine, I want to say—"
"Don't.” Justine forced a bright smile. She didn't want to hear an apology or an explanation or both; too much time had passed for it to matter. “Let's not drag up the past. We can start over...as friends."
"Friends?” Zack echoed.
Justine stiffened as he rose and came around the table to stand behind her. When his hands descended onto her shoulders, it was all she could do not to clear the chair and run for her life. Somehow, she managed to remain seated and to keep her trembling to a minimum.
Or so she thought.
"I feel you trembling, Justine,” he whispered as his magical fingers kneaded her tense muscles. “Are you afraid?"
She shook her head. “Afraid of what?” Of you? Of the way you make me feel? Of the power you wield over my heart? Yes! But she wasn't about to admit it. As long as she didn't admit it out loud, she could fight it.
His fingers continued to work their magic, sliding onto her collarbone and tracing delicate patterns on her skin. “Then what is it? Why won't you talk about what we—"
Justine stood abruptly, dislodging his hands. Her breath came out in a rush. She could feel him staring at the back of her neck—undoubtedly disappointed to find she was much stronger this time around. “Take me home,” she said, facing him.
"Justine—"
Something in her expression must have convinced him that she meant business, for he clamped his lips firmly shut. Justine took the opportunity to retrieve her coat from the living room sofa and make for the door.
Outside, the night was still, the air cold enough to sear the lungs. A thin layer of ice covered the hard-packed snow, causing their shoes to crunch loudly as they walked to his Explorer. The street lights made the ice-covered snow glisten like a winter wonderland.
When they reached her street, Zack insisted on walking her to the door of her apartment. Justine shrugged with admirable indifference and left him to follow her up the slick stairs. At her door, she turned and summoned a polite smile. “Thanks for seeing me home."
Zack braced an arm against the door and leaned close, capturing her gaze in the dim light of the street lamp at the corner of the building. Justine tensed, wishing he wouldn't stand so near.
"You're welcome.” His lips curved in a slight smile. “I guess this is a mystery we failed to solve."
Justine managed to keep her voice steady. “I guess it is. Good night, Zack."
He brought his head closer, his warm breath fanning her cold cheeks as he placed a brief kiss on her lips. When he lifted his head, she could see a warm flame burning in his eyes. She suspected her own weren't as cool as she'd like them to be.
"Good night, Justine."
Justine let herself into the apartment and leaned her back against the door. She let out a shuddering breath. Her legs shook, and her lips tingled as if from an electric shock—although his mouth had barely touched hers.
Nobody but Zack could make her feel this way. Nobody ever had, and she sadly suspected nobody ever would again.
In the dark store below, Mini silently stared at the crystal ball and contemplated the sce
ne she had just witnessed. She wasn't sure what to think. Maybe when she replayed the scene to Reuben, he'd have the answers.
Turning the round globe to the opposite side to check on Reuben's progress, she uttered a dismayed shriek when the image of the flying lovebird came into view. She could clearly see the icicles forming on his wings and beak! Apparently, her warming spell hadn't lasted, and now Reuben was in danger of freezing in mid-flight.
"Come on, Reuben, my darling hero,” Mini urged softly. “You can make it. Just a little longer..."
By her calculations, he was only minutes away. To prepare for his arrival she waved her wing and unlocked the pet store door, swinging it wide. The temperature in the shop immediately began to drop, but Mini paid no attention. She closed her eyes and began to chant the words for the warming spell. The moment Reuben drew close enough, she knew the spell would once again take affect.
A rustling noise at the door caused Mini to pause in her chanting. “Reuben! Oh, darling, you made it. I was so—"
"Who's there?” a deep, unfamiliar voice demanded from the doorway.
Mini's eyes flew open.
"All right, come out with your hands up! Nice and easy."
She uttered a shriek and threw up her wings. It wasn't Reuben.
It wasn't even a bird.
It was a mortal!
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Eight
"Are you certain you heard voices, Mac?” Justine wandered around the store as she spoke, making sure nothing had been taken. When the officer knocked on her apartment door a few moments ago, she'd been stunned when he told her he found the door of the store standing wide open.
She was positive she had locked it.
Mac nodded vigorously. “Sounded like a woman's voice. She must have gone out the back way."
"Did you check the back door?
His dismayed expression told its own story. Quickly, he started in that direction, his hand on the butt of his gun, his night stick banging clumsily against his leg. “You stay here, ma'am."
"Okay, Mac.” Despite the somber circumstances, Justine couldn't help but smile at his serious tone. She'd gone to school with Mac, and had known him most of her life. It was hard to take him seriously, even in a smart suit and a shiny badge.
He returned, his boyish face creased in puzzled lines. “The back door's locked solid. In fact, the front door didn't look tampered with, either. Doesn't make sense!"
Justine chose her words carefully, mindful of Mac's feelings. “Mac, did you close the front door before you took a look around?"
The color drained from his face, then turned a fiery red. “I thought it would be best to leave it open, in case there was more than one perpetrator.” He thrust his shoulders out and added defensively, “Procedure, ma'am."
"Can't you just call me Justine?” she asked with mild exasperation. Being called “ma'am” made her feel old, and she and Mac were the same age. “Do you think they could have slipped out when your back was turned?"
"I guess maybe they could have,” Mac admitted, shamefaced.
Justine gave her head a mental shake. It still didn't make sense...anymore than the break-in at Zack's apartment made sense. Nothing was taken, and nothing looked out of place. Her gaze wandered to the cage housing the lovebirds. It was the only thing she hadn't checked, but why would anyone steal a pair of birds? Not that they weren't valuable...
Walking to the cage, Justine peeped between the part in the cover, her gaze seeking the two lovebirds on the perch. Reuben was shivering uncontrollably—probably because of the open door. The female lovebird, Mini, looked as is if she were attempting to warm him with her wings. Sometimes their actions were so human-like it was uncanny.
Justine studied them a moment longer before letting the cover drop into place, a satin cover, she noted with a great deal of relief. Maybe she wasn't losing her mind after all. Frowning, she dabbed at the small puddles of water leaving a trail along the counter up to the cage door.
She shook her puzzled head and turned back to Mac. “Well, there's nothing missing that I can tell, and nothing's been vandalized.” Just like Zack's apartment, she thought, with the exception of the phone, which could have been an accident.
Still, the two incidents were related in some way; of that she was certain. She just didn't know how or why. The urge to call Zack and tell him what happened was strong, but in the end her pride won. The last thing she wanted was for Zack to think she needed him, or depended on him.
"If you'll lock up nice and tight, I'll escort you back to your apartment,” Mac offered.
"Thanks, Mac. And thanks for keeping an eye on the store.” She flashed him a grateful smile. “If you hadn't noticed the door open, I probably would have had a shop full of frozen critters by morning."
Mac blushed and ducked his head. “It's my job, ma—Justine. I just hope whoever it was doesn't decide to come back.” He looked at her, frowning so sternly Justine had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. “I'd get those locks changed tomorrow if I were you."
Tomorrow was Sunday. Justine didn't think she'd get a locksmith until Monday, but she didn't share her thoughts with Mac. He was a dedicated policeman, and probably wouldn't sleep a wink if he knew.
She wasn't entirely certain she would.
The moment Justine and the uniformed man she had called Mac left the store, Mini quickly chanted a warming spell for her frozen husband. Mac's startling appearance had frightened her into silence, and while Mac took a look around, Reuben had flown in through the open door, icicles melting from his wings as he stumbled along the counter to the cage. But prudence had kept Mini silent until the mortals had gone despite her wifely concerns.
Within seconds after she finished chanting the warming spell, Reuben was enveloped in a cocoon of warmth. He let out a thankful sigh and fluffed his damp feathers. “That feels wonderful! Thank you, my dear.” He shot her a questioning glance. “What happened? Who was that mortal waving a gun around?"
"Justine called him Mac. I think he was a policeman."
"What was he doing here? Did he threaten you? If he did, I'll—"
"No, no. He didn't hurt me.” Mini produced a towel and began to dry her husband's feathers. “When I saw you in distress, I opened the shop door to let you in. In your frozen state I was afraid you wouldn't have the strength—” She winced inwardly, realizing her blunder too late. It wasn't wise to question a warlock's strength.
Reuben's eyes narrowed to slits. Mini mentally kicked herself.
"I could have opened a measly door!” He sniffed, slapping at the towel until she gave up. “And no matter what the danger, I certainly don't need a witch to do it for me. Nor do I need to be towel dried like a babe just getting out from his bath!"
Holding onto her temper by a slim margin, Mini threw the towel aside; it vanished into thin air. “I'm your wife, Reuben. You said we were in this together."
An edgy silence fell between them. She waited, her heart sinking with each moment that passed. Had her hopeful imagination conjured the feeling that things had improved between them?
"You're right, I did say that,” Reuben finally conceded, sounding slightly ashamed.
Mini slumped in relief.
Sunday was the one and only day Clay didn't go into the office, and refused to answer the phone. Bea always cooked a huge midday meal, and Justine had a standing invitation. Since he joined the law firm and she opened the pet store, she rarely saw Clay anymore, so she made it a point to eat dinner with the family each Sunday. Besides, she loved the noise and smells, the laughter and the fighting, and Bea's friendship.
Today it was like a balm to her raw nerves, though she supposed a few people might consider her crazy. Colby and Drew fought as they usually did for Clay's attention, but Justine noticed Jordan was quieter than normal. His expression—when he decided to look at something other than his plate—was that of a sullen, angry teenager.
Justine glanced from Jordan's drooping chin to B
ea's frowning face. Hoping to draw her nephew into the conversation, Justine nudged Jordan's elbow. “Would you please pass the garlic bread?” She was on her third helping of Bea's delicious spaghetti, not realizing until she forked the first bite into her mouth how ravenous she was. Of course, that was because she'd missed dinner last night, thanks to Barry and Zack.
Jordan put his fork aside and grabbed the platter of garlic bread, silently handing it to her. He then resumed playing with his pasta.
"Thanks,” Justine said, taking a slice of crusty garlic toast and handing the plate back to him. She hid a smile as he scowled and took the plate. Jordan was about to be reminded that his aunt had inherited the same stubborn genes that his father possessed. “Your mom outdid herself today with the spaghetti, don't you think?"
"Yeah, I guess."
Justine rolled spaghetti noodles around her fork and took an unladylike bite. She chewed and swallowed before tapping her fork against his plate to get his attention. “So, what did you do this weekend? I noticed you didn't come into the store on Saturday.” For a long moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. Finally he let out a sigh and set his fork aside again.
"I went out with the guys,” he muttered, crumbling a piece of toast over his uneaten spaghetti. He still refused to look at her.
"Oh? Who?” she persisted with cheerful innocence. She was beginning to understand why Bea was so concerned. Jordan usually ate like a horse, talked nonstop, and was rarely ever rude. This quiet, sulky boy wasn't the nephew she knew.
"Just the guys. You don't know them."
Justine sensed that Bea and Clay were listening intently, although they kept a running conversation going with Drew and Colby. She pasted a determined smile on her face. “Maybe I do know them. This is a small town and a lot of teenagers come into to the store and browse around."
"Whatever."
At his uncharacteristically rude reply, the conversation at the other end of the table ground to a halt, proving that Bea and Clay had been listening. Justine glanced at their shocked faces and gave her head a slight shake, hoping they'd take the hint. She breathed again only when their conversation resumed.
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