Zach dropped the box on the floor and leaned on the wall, his arms crossed. He waited as she collected herself. This could be a Pulitzer Prize winner. Or an Oscar-worthy performance. Either way he braced himself for a lie.
They all lied.
Grace placed one box on top of another then wiped her hands on her jeans. “I don’t really know anything about the murder.” Her voice came out scratchy and smooth all at once, like whiskey pouring over sandpaper.
His ears tingled with the vibrations of it.
She glanced at him then back down at her sneakered feet. Her pink tongue came out to lick her lips.
“I talked to the lead detective. He said you knew too much, but had an alibi. Sounds suspicious to me.”
Her gaze met his. She didn’t flinch when he hardened his. Her stress-tinged eyes didn’t blink. She had something to hide, every fiber of his being knew it. He disliked liars. They deserved their own circle of Hell in his book.
“I guess it would.”
“You’re not going to elaborate?”
She ran a hand through her white blond hair. His gaze traveled with it. He’d felt some weird static electricity when he’d shaken that hand. She’d even flirted with him. He couldn’t trust her.
It took balls to do that in front of his ex-wife.
Blowing out a breath, she sat on the couch, her one leg curled underneath her. “No, I don’t see that I have to. Dolores is satisfied with me.”
“Well, Dolores is not always a good judge of character.”
A chuckle erupted from Grace. “Guess that’s why you’re an ex and not a current husband.”
Her jab bounced off of him. “That’s not any of your business.”
“True.”
She stood, shook herself, and then strode towards him. “I have work to do and don’t have time for macho posturing. You know, ‘cave man protect woman’ kind of thing.”
He stopped her with his hand on her shoulder. She recoiled, her face scrunching at him, but her eyes met his. Her gaze steadier than her body. She tried to move out of reach.
“I’m watching you. Carefully. If you bring trouble to Dolores, you’ll have to answer to me.”
He let go and flexed his fingers which hummed as if he had touched a live wire.
She didn’t answer, but brushed past him and down the outside steps.
Grace’s anger hadn’t dissipated with all the physical labor of moving boxes into her apartment. Five trips up and down the steps.
Her leg muscles screamed at her, but she didn’t notice them.
She only remembered Zach’s touch. Her arm still burned from his fingertips. When she looked, she expected to see an impression of his hand.
“I’m just horny.”
She had gone longer than this without sex, but her thirtieth birthday hovered on the horizon. That age brought on greater sexual needs, didn’t it? She also knew her powers would change. Or she’d lose them, which appealed to her. “That must be it. My brain isn’t right.”
Shaking her head, she attempted to brush off whatever he’d left behind on her. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.
Dolores stood on the landing outside, with a plant and some takeout. She’d changed out of her work clothes and now sported stretchy pants and an oversized T-shirt, both the color of her blue eyes.
“You are a vision,” Grace said, her stomach rumbling.
Dolores cackled. “And I didn’t even freshen up my make up.”
“Come in,” Grace said taking the plant from her hands. “Is that food for me?”
“Us. I figured you’d be too busy to cook.”
“Thanks. I’m too busy to cook most days. I make reservations better than anyone. That, and microwave popcorn.”
Her landlady set the bag of food on the kitchen counter. Grace watched her for a moment. Like most people she did look better in life than in death. A vision of Dolores’ lifeless body flashed into Grace’s mind.
She couldn’t forget why she was here.
“Did Zach interrogate you?”
Grace shook off the macabre hallucination and smiled. “He tried. No light shining in my face, though.”
“That’ll be next time. I apologize for him. He’s a little overzealous.”
Dolores removed items from a bag while Grace searched for plates. “He’s a cop. He’s just that way, I’m sure.”
Her landlady stilled. “He isn’t a cop anymore.”
She said it as if there were more to the story, but her own sense of decorum held her back.
“No?”
“A PI, now. Still I wish he’d trust me more.”
“Is that why he’s the ex?”
Dolores laughed. “Guess you’re pretty straightforward about what you want. There’s more than one reason we aren’t married anymore.”
Grace bit her lip. “That was forward of me.” Why did she want to know? Not usually a gossip, her own question struck Grace as odd. She mulled over the idea that Zach had something to hide. That’s why he thought Grace also had a secret.
Well, she did, but not nearly as menacing a one as he thought.
Dolores waved her off, then set about putting Chinese food on the plates Grace had found. “That’s okay. I’m pretty much an open book. Unlike Zach who plays things close to the vest.”
“That can get tough.”
“True.”
Grace sat at her kitchen table and let herself be served. Dolores opened the bottle of diet soda and poured them each some.
“I probably should have made you something. Maybe on the weekend.”
“Dolores, I appreciate you thinking of me. I’d lost track of time.”
“I keep doing that, too. My girlfriends tell me it’s a symptom of the pregnancy.”
“I wouldn’t know first hand, but it sounds about right. And since I’m not pregnant, I have no excuse.”
“You’ve just moved into a new town. It is understandable. Takes time to get your bearings.”
Grace shrugged and chewed on her General chicken. “I can usually hit the ground running.”
“You move around a lot?”
“My dad was in the army. I guess I held onto the wanderlust.”
“I’ve lived in this town all my life. Can’t imagine living anywhere else. Zach was even my high school sweetheart. How’s that for cliched?”
Grace laughed with Dolores. She found the woman easy to talk to. Even more reason she didn’t want her to die. She needed to live and raise this child growing inside of her.
Grace sighed and decided to ask more about Zach. He remained her only suspect at this point.
Zach pulled into Dolores’ driveway wondering why there were no lights on in the house. “Well, I can have another go at Miss Harmony.” Strangely, he looked forward to seeing her again.
As he ascended the steps, the ring of women’s laughter caught him by surprise. Grace’s door stood wide open to the warm, spring air. When he reached the top of the steps, Dolores and Grace were sitting on the couch.
He paused, eavesdropping on their conversation. About him. Dolores recounted how they met.
“I’m sure Miss Harmony has no interest in our personal life,” he said before she could go further.
The two women looked at him as if he were an alien. Grace sported a ponytail. Wisps of her light hair framed her face, bringing out her emerald green eyes.
Zach moved into the one room apartment, navigating around boxes. “I was looking for you.”
He sounded possessive and wanted to kick himself. The last thing he needed was to give Dolores the impression she had a shot with him.
“Oh? I was giving Grace, here, a hometown welcome. We
had dinner together. If you want something, I can heat up some stew.”
“Just heat up the Chinese,” Grace suggested.
Her gaze hadn’t stayed on him long as if it pained her to see him. She hid something, some huge secret, and he hoped to God it wouldn’t blow up in his face.
“No, Grace, that’s for you.” Dolores stood. “I’ll get something for Zach. Won’t take a moment.”
“Lors, don’t get up. I didn’t come by for you to feed me. I’m not hungry anyway.” He raked a hand through his hair. This was not working out. “I just wanted to talk to Miss Harmony.”
Dolores looked at him then back to Grace. “I think you’ve interrogated her enough.”
“I didn’t interrogate her.”
“I know you Zachary Holten. You have no soft touch when it comes to your job. Let her be. In fact, I’m going to leave her to her unpacking now that I’ve fed her.”
Dolores brushed past him. Grace stood and opened a box as if he weren’t there. “We’re not done, you know.”
“I wasn’t charged with anything,” Grace said, still not looking at him.
“That doesn’t mean you didn’t do something wrong.”
Her eyes flashed at him. “I haven’t. And if you harass me I will file a complaint.”
He nodded. She doth protest way too much.
“I don’t trust her.”
Dolores chuckled. She spooned stew onto a plate then put it into her microwave to heat. “You don’t get a say. Not anymore.”
She leaned against the cracked counter that desperately need replacing. Now that he knew a child would grow up in this place, he looked at it with new eyes. The house remained shabby. He’d have to do some renovation before the baby came.
“Right. Not since I walked out. I’ve heard this before. And I’m supposed to argue that you forced me out by sleeping with my partner. Yada, yada. I’m not being baited into an argument. Dolores.”
He folded his frame to sit on the old chair in her old kitchen. Some of the appliances were still in Harvest Gold. Once they were flush with cash and could have bought new ones, but his pride hadn’t let her spend her money.
Now she didn’t have it anymore. It had gone up her nose.
“So what shall we talk about?” Dolores asked, pulling a beer out of the refrigerator.
His favorite brand, he noticed. After opening the slim green bottle, he took a swig before answering. “She’s hiding something.”
“Aren’t we all.”
He let that remark go. Dolores’ secrets weren’t his concern anymore. “Something big.”
“Stop. I’m not kicking her out.”
“I should have some say since you’re carrying my child.”
She stiffened for a moment. “Yes, I am, but you don’t get a say. Not on this issue. She’s all alone and I’m not getting rid of her.”
“She isn’t a stray kitten.”
“I think she is.”
Frustration ate at the edges of his sanity. Something about Grace Harmony exuded danger. She held herself as if she had no idea the depth of her beauty. That alone could make him wary, but his ex-cop instincts told him he’d have to look deeper.
“Just be careful.”
The microwave dinged. “For once, Zach, trust me.”
He laughed. He would never trust any woman again and Dolores knew that. She’d been the one to break his trust.
“Trust is a funny word coming from you.”
She shrugged. “One can hope.”
Grace lay in her new bed in her new apartment and couldn’t sleep. Her curt conversation with Zach still had her blood boiling. Dolores had turned her queries about him into a trip down memory lane.
She hadn’t found out their relationship. He was key somehow. She didn’t feel it in her bones, but, as a suspect, he made the most sense.
Shrugging off the sheet, she climbed out of bed. The moon shone in making the room seem to be lit by some surreal daytime. One of her windows looked down on the neighbor’s property. No one stirred.
She crossed to the window facing her landlord’s house. No lights. A movement caught her eye. A man stood at the end of the driveway. She stepped back since she didn’t have on a stitch of clothing.
When she looked again, he’d moved down the driveway as if he owned the place. He didn’t look like Zach, but she didn’t really know him well enough to say.
With a speed she didn’t know she possessed, Grace jumped into her discarded clothing. She flew out the door before she could change her mind. Halfway down the steps, she realized she had no weapon. Instead of turning around, her anger at Zach moved her faster.
The man disappeared before she reached the driveway. Tiptoeing, she circled the house. A dog three doors down barked. Then she heard a car start then drive away.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she caught her breath. “I left my door open,” she said to the nighttime.
No place to hide in her apartment, so she went back in confident that the intruder disappeared. At least adrenaline had exhausted her enough to sleep.
She fell into slumber, fully clothed.
Too early in the morning for his tastes, Zach walked around, coffee cup in hand, and surveyed the remains of an apartment. The appliances were black. The acrid smell of smoke wrinkled his nose. He should be used to it by now, but the scent meant death to him. Not in this case.
“Madame Zola was right.”
The firefighters ignored him. He usually talked to himself during an arson investigation. Despite not being here in an official capacity, the detectives from the Centre County Prosecutor’s office let him on scene. Most knew that he’d been the best.
Detective Ed Bauer, his best friend, had called him in.
“The same,” Ed said.
Zach nodded. This fire looked the same as the last case he’d had before being asked to resign from the Prosecutor’s Office. The one that had been his downfall.
“Luckily the tenant moved out. The place was empty. I don’t have her name, yet.
Zach nodded. He’d talk to that person when the time came, but he doubted she would know anything. “I saw her.”
“Who?”
“Celia Johnson. She came to my office and predicted that an apartment building would burn. She insisted it was a copycat.”
“Either we have a copycat on our hands or we arrested the wrong man a year ago,” Ed said. His grin appeared more as a grimace than a look of pleasure.
“Thanks for calling. What exactly do you want?”
“A PI can do things a cop can’t. Keep you ear to the ground.”
“And what will I get in return?” Zach sipped his coffee, the liquid now lukewarm.
“I’ll feed you as much info as I can, unofficially.”
“Right.”
A mere bone. No one would ever let him back in the door at the prosecutor’s office. No PD would have him. Besides, he’d lived in Jersey his whole life. Why would he move now?
Lors’ baby tied him here for good.
Ed slapped him on the back. “You know how it is. Ted Hodgins keeps things close. He’d have my balls if he knew you were here.”
Zach jerked his head toward the other detectives. “Will they rat you out?”
“Nah. They’re good kids.”
Zach sighed. As much as he hated leaving the department, he couldn’t see himself going back. He had more freedom and no boss breathing down his neck. Even if he tracked down cheating husbands, he still had the occasional arson case to keep his skills sharp.
He held out his hand to his friend. “I’ll do it. Just don’t risk your job.”
“Thanks, buddy. And I won’t do anything stupid.”
“Yes, you will, but I’m not concerned with that. Just don’t lose your job.”
Ed walked him back to his car.
“Dolores is pregnant.”
His friend faltered in his steps. “Yours?” Not unless my old partner slept with her again.
“She says so.”
Ed nodded. “You believe her?”
“I have no reason not to.”
“How about that she slept with your partner.”
Ed had never forgiven Dolores for that. Zach had, maybe. He shrugged. “Don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Don’t get hooked into her web again.”
“No, I don’t think I will.”
A visitor in uniform appeared at Zach’s desk as soon as he took a bite of his protein bar. He hated the taste of it, but they got him through the day. His gaze traveled from the dark blue pants to the belt holding trauma shears, latex gloves and a stethoscope.
Grace looked ready to spit nails at him. How did she find him?
He dropped the bar on his desk, wiping his fingers on his pants. “You ready to talk?” He motioned for her to sit. e He
She shook her head. “No, and I don’t appreciate prowlers spying on me in the middle of the night. At least have the balls to identify yourself.”
What was she talking about? “Miss Harmony, trust me. If I were spying on you, I’d have walked through the front door or you wouldn’t have known I was there.”
“Don’t snow me. I’ve dealt with you law enforcement types before. You were on the driveway last night.”
“I was not. I was deep in sleep after I left Lors’ house.”
“And what time did you leave? Abruptly at midnight?”
“Did you see someone in your driveway at midnight?” he asked, shifting a pad of paper to the center of his desk. “Was that the exact time?”
eWhat
She looked at him as if he’d just walked out of a space ship. “You know what time you were there.”
“Please sit and listen carefully to what I have to say. I was not on Dolores’ driveway at midnight. I was having a very lewd dream, probably right around that time if you must know. So I’ll take notes and you should file a police report.”
She plopped herself down in the chair, her radio hitting the side of his desk. “It wasn’t you?”
He liked that she didn’t blush at his comments. Since working mostly with men she probably heard sexual comments all of the time. “No. What time exactly?”
She ran a hand over her face, the momentum out of her anger. Her radio squawked and she turned down the volume. “My clock said 12:15.”
“What did you see?”
He scribbled the time at the top of his page. Who would be scoping out Dolores’ house so late at night? He’d check with the local PD to see if there were any burglaries in the area.
“A man was standing on the driveway,” Grace said. Her gaze looked over his shoulder as if she were reliving the incident. “I assumed it was you.”
“Where?”
“First at the end then he moved down the driveway. He seemed to be looking up at my apartment. I backed away.”
“Did you feel threatened?”
“I was naked. I put on a robe and went outside.”
He resisted the urge to throttle her. “You went outside when you thought you saw a strange man?”
“I thought it was you. As strange as you may be, I don’t see you as a threat.”
He glanced up at her. The thought of her naked clouded his mind for a moment. Dolores is carrying my baby, he said to himself. “You don’t see me as a threat?”
She swallowed visibly, her hands holding onto each other. One booted foot tapped on the floor. “No.”
Her gaze didn’t waiver, but he didn’t believe her. Her body language said the opposite of her words. She sat with both feet on the ground, ready to take flight. He could smell her fear. Why did he make her afraid?
“Really.”
“At least not a physical one.”
He put down his pen. “Am I a threat in some other way?”
This could be good.
“No,” she said, too quickly.
He wasn’t going to crack this tough nut. How did she get that haunted look in those beautiful eyes? “What’d the guy look like?”
“You, I guess. Couldn’t see well. The moon was out, but the house cast a shadow and he stayed in it.”
“How close did you get?”
“Not very since he was gone by the time I went out. I heard a car start down the block.”
“You didn’t think to call the police?”
“I thought it was you. If I called the police, who would have believed me?”
“I see you have some trust issues with cops.”
She snorted. “You could say that.” With a deep sigh, she stood. “I have to get back to work.”
“You’re a medic?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t elaborate, but stared at him for a moment as if deciding to say something.
“I think Dolores is in danger.”
His radar went up. “Why? Did this guy do anything last night?”
“No, I just think she is.”
Great. He needed another psychic like a fish needed swimming lessons. “A feeling?”
She shrugged. “If you want to call it that.”
“Does your feeling have a name?” he asked, arms crossed over his chest.
“Nope.”
“Any ideas?”
She stood, her hand on her radio. “You.”