“He’s engaged!”
The general din in the room nearly didn’t drown out the unladylike sound Endora made. “To the Dragon Lady of New York City. You’d be doing Mick a favor by breaking them up.”
“That’s not—”
“I found out what ‘free agency’ means.”
“Mother Goddess you work fast,” Cassie said, genuinely impressed. “I was banking on your extreme aversion to sports to keep you off that trail for at least a day or two.”
Endora shrugged slightly. “I’m relentless when someone’s love life is involved.”
“Leave mine alone, Dora,” Cassie warned in a low voice. “Just back off.”
Robert Whitman took that exact moment to arrive at the party. Spotting them, he promptly moved over to their table.
“Good evening, ladies,” he said politely. “Cassandra, you’re looking lovely, as usual.” He bowed briefly over Cassie’s hand before turning to do the same to Endora. “As are you, Miss Bast.”
“Thank you, Mr. Whitman,” Cassie replied with a smile as Endora nodded.
“Please. Robert. I’m the rookie at this author business, and I feel like you’re crediting me with too much experience by calling me Mr. Whitman.”
“All right, Robert.”
“Have you seen Ed Turner? I need to tell him Mick’s not coming.”
Alarm bells went off in Cassie’s head, but she managed to ask calmly, “Is everything all right?”
“It will be. He’s temporarily indisposed.”
“Sudden illness?” Endora asked, shooting Cassie a glance.
“You could say that.”
Allergic reaction to felines? Cassie speculated.
Whitman smiled enigmatically and walked away.
Quick, read his mind, Endora ordered Cassie. He’s lying.
Cassie concentrated hard to pick up Whitman’s thoughts before party noise swallowed up the connection. Apparently, Mick got drunk and is passed out upstairs in bed.
Not very romantic of your hero.
He’s not my hero, Dora.
Right.
Cassie chose to ignore her familiar’s mild sarcasm. What could possibly cause him to get that drunk?
Maybe he seriously began contemplating a life with Jennifer tied around his neck.
“You are evil!” Cassie laughed, but her humor didn’t stay for long. She fought down a sigh. “Mick could be a closet alcoholic . . .”
Surprise lit Endora’s face at that possibility. “I really don’t think so,” she countered. “He’s been in the international spotlight for twenty years. No way could he hide a substance problem for that long.”
“That’s a point.” A sudden thought struck Cassie, and she had to resist a totally different reaction. A picture of an indisposed Mick—and Jennifer ministering to him—sprang into her head full blown, and jealousy reared up.
The green-eyed monster, Endora warned, obviously thinking it safer to communicate telepathically on this subject than speaking aloud.
Oh, shut up!
With a laugh, Endora sauntered in the direction of the cash bar. I’m outta here at midnight, Boss. Feel like taking in some of the nightlife down on Rush Street.
Knock yourself out, Cassie glumly told her friend.
Mick won’t be here, but you could always hang out with the charming Robert Whitman. He’s pretty buff looking.
Cassie was tempted to take a swipe at her cat. That’s not even his real name, and you know it. And, come to think of it, why would he know Mick wasn’t coming? Jennifer would have notified Ed Turner of Mick’s being a no-show, not Whitman.
Mick really must be blotto if he’s not here. I’d think Jennifer would drag him out as long as he’s this side of death.
Doesn’t add up, Cassie countered. Jennifer’s too into image. Why tarnish Mick’s reputation by bringing him to this event falling down drunk?
She thinks Mick’s more important to this tour than anyone else, even drunk on his very fine rear end. Ole Jen wouldn’t allow anyone else to be fawned over more than her business asset.
Fiancé, Cassie reminded her, mentally gritting her teeth.
From the beginning, she’s struck me as someone who’s far more in love with herself and with money than she ever could be with another human being.
That was the distinct impression Cassie had gotten from Mick during their luncheon earlier in the day, but she chose not to confirm Endora’s suspicions. Her familiar was getting far too cocky lately. Telling her of the feeling Mick had projected about Jennifer—and her own encounter in the men’s bathroom with him—would only feed Endora’s ego. Any such revelation would whet the familiar’s appetite to brew something up between Cassie and Mick. As much as admitting so stung, she wouldn’t mind that happening. But as far as she knew, Mick was engaged. This tour is getting strange.
Curiouser and curiouser.
Cassie gave herself a mental shake. “When did you say you were leaving to go downtown?”
“Midnight, but I can take a hint.” The familiar gathered up her purse.
Cassie’s hand shot out to grasp her friend’s wrist. “You know that’s not it at all, Dora.”
“I know.” Endora winked. “Thinking about coming along? Be glad to have you.”
“No, thanks. I’m going to pull my Cinderella act and go back to the room right about the time you take off.”
“Suit yourself, but you’ll miss a great time.”
When Endora rose from the table, Cassie followed. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.”
If you don’t come downtown with me, you’ll spend the night pining for Mick . . . Which, come to think of it, might not be all bad . . . Go skulk around his suite. Or conjure up an image of what he’s doing.
That latter suggestion brought Cassie a flashback to her earlier picture of Mick and Jennifer together. She shuddered. No, I’ll spend the night pining for a familiar who doesn’t try to run my life. Maybe a nice snowy owl, or a big old fruit bat . . .
Strolling to the exit, Endora laughed out loud. Owls are messy—all that molting—and bats get tangled in your hair. No, this cat is the perfect familiar for you, and you’re well aware of that fact.
Just keep reminding me, Cassie tossed after her friend.
Count on that, Boss.
SLEEP HAD ELUDED Cassie most of the night, but she had never enjoyed the aftereffects of a sleeping potion, so hadn’t bothered to brew one. Exhausted, she felt out of sorts and sluggish the next morning boarding the bus for the trip to St. Louis. The rest of the authors and their various entourages also straggled to the meeting point. Obviously, a good time had been had by nearly all on the previous night.
Endora hadn’t returned to the room, but all their bags were missing when Cassie got up—with the exception of the snug jeans and green gypsy blouse lying beside Cassie’s bed—so she knew the familiar had already boarded the bus. And taken their luggage with her.
She found the familiar curled up in a bunk, and as she approached distinctly heard Endora singing “Memories” from Cats. Chuckling, she gently nudged her. “Hey, pal, up and at ‘em.”
“Geez, Tugger,” Endora mumbled. “Have you been in prison for years or something?”
Cassie checked to see if they were alone, then snapped her fingers and produced a steaming mug of batwing tea. “Come on, Dora,” she crooned as she waved the mug under her friend’s nose. “At least look like you’ve got a couple lives left.”
With an enormous yawn, the familiar stretched as only cats can, extending her limbs until both feet and hands hung over the edges of the bunk. Then one green eye popped open.
“Is there an emergency business meeting I need to attend at this unholy hour?” Her voice was raspy from howling. “If not, I’m going back to sleep.
”
“It’s nearly ten-thirty, and we should check in with Ed Turner so he doesn’t panic.”
“Is Lover Boy on board?”
Cassie rolled her eyes at the comment. “Just came on with Whitman. Jennifer’s not with them.” She paused, sensed the air. “There’s no reading on any of her stuff being on the bus, either.”
“Curiouser and curiouser.”
“You can say that again.”
Endora roused herself enough to sip some tea. “Seriously, Cass, some very strange circumstances have occurred during this trip. The evil I sensed in Toledo, Whitman’s lying, Mick’s no-show at the biggest event before New Orleans. And now this thing with Jennifer.”
“I know. And, much as I hate to admit it, I think it’s time we started investigating things.” Cassie could barely meet her friend’s eyes, and this personal discomfort confounded her. “Starting with Mick.”
The cat’s now-alert gaze lit up. “Boss! Does this mean what I think it means?”
Cassie knew she should start worrying when Endora had that particular look in her eyes. She warily eyed her familiar. “What?”
“That you and Mick are, you know, going to get intimate?”
“Only in the sense that I’ll most likely have to get into his head—”
“When you really want to get into his bed.”
“Don’t interrupt me when I’m explaining, Endora.”
“More like rationalizing.”
Since her manager occupied an upper bunk, Cassie was eye-level with her. “Don’t go there.” The look she gave Endora was calculated to intimidate any creature on the planet. She knew it had worked when the cat blinked.
“Okay,” came Endora’s now humble acquiescence. “I’m not going there.”
“Good.” Cassie turned on her heel and moved stiffly away, angry that her feelings toward Mick had been so accurately assessed. Yes, she was incredibly attracted to him. He was amazingly sexy, but more than just that, she sensed a kindred spirit under that aura of self-confidence and fame. A shy and vulnerable heart, much like her own. Having Endora tease her about emotions she didn’t yet completely understand grated.
Regardless of how she felt about Mick, though, Cassie was determined to investigate. As she moved up the aisle, she noticed him and Robert sitting in the frontmost seats, their heads together. It wasn’t often that she allowed herself to pry into humans’ minds, but as Endora had pointed out, enough strange and potentially dangerous happenings had gone on in four short days that she felt compelled to find out exactly why.
Taking a seat across the aisle and two rows behind the men, she opened her planner and pretended to study the itinerary. Then she closed her eyes behind her sunglasses and sent her mind forward to the front seat. Her supersensitive hearing engaged.
“Sorry about last night, Jamison,” Mick said in a low voice. “When Jen left, I guess I just lost it.”
So I was right. Our Mr. Whitman isn’t at all who he says he is. And Jennifer isn’t here. Neither of those revelations gave her a sense of triumph. Darkness lurked at the edges of these events. Cassie felt it.
“I told Ed you were indisposed. For all he knows, you and Jen spent the night doing the horizontal bop.”
Both Cassie and Mick winced at Jamison’s indelicate comment.
“Sorry. That was uncalled for,” the agent muttered.
“Damn straight it was,” Mick snapped. “Doesn’t the Bureau train its agents in tact?”
Cassie could hear chagrin in Jamison’s voice. “Yes, but sometimes its agents get stupid. It won’t happen again.”
Mick’s grunt could have been acceptance. Or not. “Any word on Jennifer?”
The tension level eased slightly. “She got back to her apartment safely and is even now packing up to move. Our taps on your respective phone lines paid off. We traced her calls to several realtors.”
Mick’s sigh nearly ruptured Cassie’s eardrums. The sensation made her jump, and she glanced quickly around to see if anyone had noticed her odd behavior. Every other passenger was either asleep or almost that way, thank the goddess.
“I told you before, Jamison, if anything happens to her, I’ll be your worst nightmare.”
“Understood.” The agent rose from his seat. “I’m going for coffee. Want some?”
“No thanks.”
“Suit yourself. I’m also going to call my field agent in St. Louis. I’ll fill you in at lunch.”
“I appreciate that.”
Cassie tried to absorb all she’d heard. Wow. Jamison is FBI, Mick’s in on something with him, Jennifer’s gone, and he still cares about her. But what does this information mean to me? It was time to go straight to the source.
Cassie rose from her seat and moved forward to stop beside Mick. She indicated the seat Jamison had recently vacated. “Mind if I sit down?”
“Not at all.”
His tone was so neutral she wondered why he just didn’t tell her to go away. He looked like hell, which was quite a trick given how handsome he was. His eyes were red-rimmed, and dark circles beneath them emphasized his recent lack of rest. A vision of him passed out on the hotel room floor, an empty bottle of whiskey nearby, flashed in Cassie’s head, explaining his unkempt appearance.
“Where’s Endora?”
Cassie couldn’t resist. “Taking a cat nap.”
“She looked under the weather when she boarded the bus.” Mick grimaced, rubbing his stubbled cheek with one hand. “Guess I look like something the cat dragged in myself.”
“That’s far more applicable to Endora,” Cassie said with a kind smile. “We missed you at the reception last night.”
“I was indisposed.”
“So Robert told us.” It would have been simple for her to keep reading Mick’s thoughts, but for some unknown reason she wanted him to be forthcoming with his information. “Is Jennifer meeting us in St. Louis?”
“No.”
For a best-selling author, you’re pretty stingy in the dialogue department, Kazimer. But you’re not getting off that easy. “From your tone of voice, I’d say she’s not going to be in Memphis, either.”
Mick’s look managed to be quelling and disbelieving all at once. “I only said one word.”
“I’m not talking number of words, I’m talking tone and body language.” His sudden scowl made her sigh. “Look, Mick, I realize it’s none of my business, but if you need to talk, I’m a very good listener.”
She was halfway out of the seat before he spoke.
“We broke up.”
“You and Jennifer?” True concern tinged her voice, and she sank back down beside him. “You called off your engagement?”
“She did a while ago. Last night, she ended our business relationship, also.”
Cassie hadn’t seen any of that coming, and the question left her mouth before she considered the wisdom of asking. “Why?”
Mick shrugged his broad shoulders. “We’d been floundering for a while.” He started to say more, then stopped.
Cassie had pried enough for the time being. “Sorry to hear that,” she said truthfully, giving his hand a quick squeeze.
The moment she touched him, Cassie felt a lightning bolt of power arc between them. Only her cat-quick reflexes and supreme self-control kept her from yanking her hand back. A quick glance at Mick’s eyes told her he’d felt it too.
Tread softly here, girl, she told herself, or you could really get scorched. Acting as though absolutely nothing had happened, she casually withdrew her hand. “If I can do anything, let me know.” She paused, thinking. “Endora could help you with managerial details, if you’d like. She’s amazingly competent, and I think a tad bored right now. She said earlier that this tour is so well-organized, it’s like the Federal government is running it.” She no
ticed Mick’s slight grimace, acknowledged the irony of Endora’s earlier comment. “Anyway, I’ll ask her. That is, if you think you’ll need help. I don’t want to push.”
“Not at all.” Mick’s smile had warmed considerably. “Thanks for the offer.”
Cassie rose. “Let me know if I can help somehow.”
“Sure.”
“DORA, WHAT DID you do to Jennifer Bodin?” Cassie stage-whispered into her familiar’s ear where she still lay in the upper berth.
Endora batted at Cassie’s face to shoo her away. When that didn’t work, she rolled over to face her employer. “What are you talking about?”
“She left last night and went back to New York. They’ve called off their engagement.”
A large grin revealed pointed white canines. “Good. That leaves the field open for you.”
Cassie wanted to pull out her hair. Endora’s, that is. “Bat rumps, Dora! Did you hex her or something? Give her boils? Zits? Facial hair?”
“None of the above,” Endora grumped, “although the thought of warts in a very inconvenient place did cross my mind.” At Cassie’s sound of disapproval, she added, “Look, I was too busy last night with Rum Tum Tugger to hex Jennifer. She left for reasons I wasn’t involved in.”
“I believe you.”
“Good. Now let me sleep.” The familiar rolled over, covering her head with the blanket.
Cassie yanked the cover away. “Not until I tell you what else I learned.” When Endora didn’t respond, Cassie prodded her in the shoulder.
“Ouch! Stop that.” Endora slowly sat up. “What?”
“Now that I have your attention, listen to this. Whitman’s name is actually Special Agent Robert Jamison, and he had another agent follow Jennifer back to New York City. I guess the Feds have tapped both Mick’s and Jennifer’s phone lines, and she made several calls to realtors.”
This perked Endora up considerably. “Wow. She really is out of his life. Time to make a move, Boss.”
“Endora, get that off your mind for a moment, would you? Mick’s somehow involved with the FBI! Do you think it could have anything to do with the evil presence you sensed in Toledo?”
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