A touch of love (15 page)

4 'My ranch will survive a couple of weeks without my being there to supervise, so I'm not worried that I'll find nothing but tumbleweeds when I get home. Now that we've gotten my ranch out of the way, let's try to concentrate on the real problem." Jesse didn't want to lecture her, but he had a difficult time speaking in a relaxed, conversational tone.

''You're so different at the seminars that it's hard to believe you're the same person," he mused aloud. Not sure how much yogurt she wanted, he gave her the same generous portion he scooped out for himself and returned the carton to the freezer. He leaned back against the counter while they waited for the water to boil.

4 'At the seminars, you're supremely confident," he explained, "but at the same time you exude warmth. You're approachable there, and the audience responds positively. Once you bring the seminar to a close, however, you retreat into yourself. Or maybe you're simply a consummate actress, and the Aubrey Glenn people see at the seminars is an act."

Aubrey fought not to be insulted by what she considered an extremely unflattering description of her behavior. "We all have multifaceted personalities," she argued. "Just because I choose to show one side during seminars, and another in more private settings, doesn't mean either is an act. I'm no phoney."

"I didn't say you were." The water was hot, and Jesse waited until she brewed their tea to suggest they move into the living room to talk. He picked up the bowls of yogurt and led the way. Expensively furnished in fine antiques, the room had a twenty-foot ceiling with exposed beams.

It was a charming setting decorated in lush shades of cranberry and gold. Certain she would take the wing chair in the far corner, he turned to block her way.

"Come sit with me on the sofa so we don't have to shout across the room." He set the yogurt on the coffee table and waited for her to make herself comfortable. That she chose the far end of the cranberry velvet sofa didn't surprise him, but he took care not to crowd her and sat toward the other end. He stretched out his legs to get comfortable.

"I truly believe we can use your talents to solve my cousins' disappearance." Aubrey opened her mouth, but already knowing she would argue, Jesse raised his hand. "Hold on a minute. Just let me finish. I'm way past making an appeal to your sense of citizenship, and I never meant to use your fondness for my aunt to coerce you into working on the case. Please believe me.

"Trisha thinks we make a good team, and so do I. That's why I want us to work together: I truly believe we'll make a difference. We might also discover something important about ourselves." His voice softened. "Or something more, I should say."

Self-discovery was the theme of The Mind's Eye, and that Jesse would quote her book in an effort to impress her struck Aubrey as incredibly low. She watched him take a spoonful of yogurt and hoped that he would choke. He didn't

"You already know how highly I value self-discovery," she responded as calmly as she could, "but you're not the one who's had to face the frightening visions. To expect me to willingly repeat that experience, for whatever reason, is simply too much to ask."

Jesse let the yogurt slide down his throat. Cold and sweet, it helped him keep a firm hold on his temper. He took another bite and nodded to acknowledge Aubrey's point. He really didn't care if he had to keep her up all night,

he was going to win her cooperation; that's all there was to it.

A sudden hideous screech from the backyard brought Aubrey to her feet. "My God. What was that?"

Jesse set his yogurt aside and stood. Guinevere had heard the strangled cry, too, but the dog was cowering at her mistress's feet rather than barking. "Does Lucifer ever get in cat fights?"

"He's neutered, but occasionally he does. Tomcats exchange low, threatening moans before they sink their claws into each other, and I didn't hear anything that sounded like him."

"Stay here," Jesse ordered, but as he slipped past Aubrey, she followed right behind him. "I should have known," he murmured under his breath.

"This is my house," Aubrey reminded him, "and I'll go wherever I please."

Jesse reached the side door first and flipped on the patio lights. "Shouldn't the lights be on in the pool?"

Aubrey ducked under his arm to look out. "Yes. They're on a timer." She pushed the door open, then recoiled slightly. "What is that awful stench?"

Jesse eased open the screen door. "It smells like burnt fur. I sure hope Lucifer wasn't playing with matches. Do you have a flashlight?"

Aubrey ran to the other side of the kitchen to grab one off the counter. "Let's go together." She waited until Jesse had stepped out the door, then turned on the flashlight. The patio was well lit by a single bright bulb on the side of the house, but the pool and surrounding area lay in shadows. She swept the yard with the bright beam. It made an eerie circle on the well-tended shrubbery, but there was nothing unusual to see—until she aimed the light at the pool.

"There's something floating in the water," she whispered.

Jesse took Aubrey's hand to ensure a cautious approach. In another couple of steps, he recognized the victim. "It's the opossum you claimed you heard last night. He's obviously dead and he didn't have time to drown."

Gripped by terror, Aubrey pulled Jesse back from the edge of the pool with a frantic jerk. "Don't get any closer. He might have been electrocuted."

"What?" Jesse felt as though the patio had taken a fast five-foot drop and it took his stomach several seconds to catch up. "Of course. The poor critter must have sidled up to the pool for a drink and zap, he was toast. We're calling the police right now, Aubrey. This was no accident, and if we'd stopped for a swim before going out to dinner, we might have lost more than our appetites."

Aubrey had refused to believe Jesse's claims that she was in danger, but clearly someone had wanted her dead badly enough to rig the lights in the pool to electrocute her. That thought was far worse than any vision could ever be, and she didn't intend to let the culprit get away with it. She backed away from the pool with a shaky step, but she had never been more determined.

"I'll help you, Jesse," she promised in a breathless rush. "You have my word on it. The visions were horrifying, but they were no more than sickening images. This threat is real."

Jesse let out a startled howl as Lucifer brushed up against his leg. "Here's your cat. Let's bring him inside before he gets thirsty."

Aubrey shut off the flashlight and scooped up the affectionate tomcat in her arms. "My cleaning woman was here this morning, and I've never known her to take time out to swim, but my God, what if she had? The pool man comes tomorrow. If that poor opossum hadn't been killed

tonight, we wouldn't have known the pool wasn't safe and it could have been him we found floating face down. What kind of monster sets a deadly trap when he can't be certain who'll be the victim?"

Jesse held the screen door open for her. 'The kind who wipes out whole families without batting an eye. I wonder if anyone saw a gold Corvette parked nearby today."

Aubrey set Lucifer down in the kitchen and went to the telephone. "I don't know what to tell the police."

Jesse moved to her side and took the receiver. "Don't worry. I'll just get them over here, and they'll be able to see the problem for themselves." Jesse dialed 911 and reported a strong suspicion someone with deadly intentions had tampered with Ms. Glenn's pool. The police station was only a mile away, and as he replaced the receiver, he heard sirens in the distance. "Can't ask for better service than that. They're on the way."

"Our frozen yogurt's melting," Aubrey murmured absently, and Jesse drew her into a comforting hug. Without a thought of what tricks her mind might play, she slid her arms around his waist to return it. For a brief instant she felt safe, then embarrassed to need his warmth so badly, she backed away and went to the front door to wait for the police.

Aubrey's street was soon blocked by police cars and fire engines, their motors running with a deep, throaty hum. Lured by the noise and flashing lights, neighbors, who hadn't spoken to each other since the last major earthquake, came outside to mill about on the sidewalk and speculate on what had prompted such an impressive response from the city.

With so much excitement going on, no one took any particular notice of John Gilroy walking the German shepherd through their midst. He was simply mistaken for someone who lived nearby, and curious like them, had

been drawn their way to investigate. "That's Aubrey Glenn's house," Cecile Blanchard told him. "She wrote a bestseller not too long ago."

"Did she now," John replied. He focused his attention on his dog, thereby shielding his face from her view. "Was there a fire?"

"No. I don't think so. Can't smell any smoke. Do you remember that big blaze up on Old Mill Road a few years back? Took the whole roof right off that English Tudor home."

"Is that a fact?"

"It lit up the whole sky. That was really something to see. Not much to look at here, though."

"Guess not," John agreed, and moved on. Up the block he overheard a mention of the man who drove the Chevy truck parked in Aubrey's driveway, and paused, hoping to learn something useful, but gleaned only sly innuendos about what his relationship to the author might be. The paramedics had accompanied the fire engines, but they were standing at the back of their ambulance, chatting with a couple of little boys. Disappointed they hadn't carried Aubrey's lifeless body out on a stretcher, John was about to leave when he caught sight of her silhouetted against her open front door. She was speaking with a police officer and the tall dude who seemed to be her constant companion was right beside her.

Knowing Harlan Caine was going to be furious with him, John swore under his breath. He pulled the dog along beside him and left the scene at a near run. He had been positive he had come up with the perfect plan to get rid of Aubrey Glenn, but since it hadn't worked, he would quickly devise another. "That bitch is history," he promised himself.

He had parked his Corvette three blocks away, and after unlocking the door, he slapped the dog's rump and urged

him into the passenger seat. "You're not half bad," he told him. "Maybe I won't take you back to the pound after all."

Responding to John's encouraging tone, the dog licked his hand and turned to the window to enjoy the ride back to his new home.

It was nearly midnight before the last of the police and fire personnel left and Aubrey and Jesse were again alone. She put her pets to bed, then carried their dishes into the sink and turned on the water. Just as quickly, she shut it off. "What if the whole house has been booby-trapped? Am I going to pull a book from the shelves tomorrow and set off explosives?"

"I certainly hope not. Whoever rigged the pool must have expected it to be effective. I doubt that he would have set back-up traps, but if you like, we can call the police department again in the morning and have them send someone to search the house thoroughly. We were here nearly an hour before going to dinner, and if anything had been wrong, you probably would have sensed it then."

"Not if it happened while we were at dinner rather than during the day."

Jesse stepped close and rested his hands on her shoulders. "Stop it. I wanted you to be more aware of the danger we're in, but I don't want you to make yourself sick imagining exploding books or poisoned salt shakers."

Aubrey sent an anxious glance toward the breakfast table. There was a set of salt and pepper shakers by the napkin holder, but she never used them. "I don't salt my food."

"That's probably real healthy," Jesse commented before

tightening his hold on her.' 'My point was simply that while we have to be cautious, we ought not to be paranoid. Now I searched the house when we came home and nothing seemed out of the ordinary but if you're really afraid to sleep here tonight, let's go over to my aunt's."

"She can't possibly still be awake, and I'd not want to impose on her anyway." Aubrey focused her attention on the pearl snaps running down the front of his shirt. How had she come to be standing in a cowboy's arms worrying about being murdered? It was absolutely absurd, but he smelled delicious and as she forced her gaze up to meet his, his confident smile was so wonderfully reassuring that her fears melted into the anguished temptation of desire. When he dipped his head, she no longer wished to escape him and reached up to meet his kiss. His mouth was warm, and the pressure of his lips so tender she clung to him, silently encouraging far more—and he gave it willingly.

When he at last broke away to take a ragged breath, Aubrey understood the question in his eyes without being asked. This wasn't about simply being afraid to sleep alone, but about wanting, needing to be with him. She began to unsnap his shirt with careless tugs, and when he laughed way back in his throat, she knew she wasn't the first woman to undress him. 'T bet you're real popular in Arizona."

"Honey, I'm popular everywhere I go." Jesse laughed out loud at that arrogant boast, then wrapped his arms around Aubrey's waist and lifted her clear off her feet. "That doesn't mean I'm easy, though."

Aubrey slid her arms around his neck and ruffled the curls at his nape. "Liar, but you're a long way from the rodeo, and I expect more than eight seconds from you."

Jesse silenced her laughter with a kiss he deepened until whatever doubts she may have had about his prowess as a lover were dissolved in a languid sigh of surrender. He set

her down on the edge of the counter, stepped between her legs, and slid his hands under her pale blue skirt. She had not bothered with pantyhose and he ran his hands up the inside of her thighs. Her bare skin warmed to his touch, and the sweet, silken softness of her felt so good to him that he took his time working his way up to her panties.

Aubrey drank in Jesse's lavish kisses with a moan of abandon. She had learned as a teenager that some boys took the time to make a kiss sublime while others ruined the affectionate gesture with a single hasty tongue thrust. Jesse's kisses were hot and sweet, a luscious, sensual caress he had raised to an artform. She cupped his face in her hands and slid her fingertips over the smoothness of his jaw. With her eyes closed, she still saw him clearly and was bewitched by his teasing grin.