Angel's Dance (15 page)

She startled him from his thoughts.
“So, what happened after I…um…” she started to ask.

Grant waved it off, noting she was
obviously uncomfortable about her migraines. “Bryce had to get back
to Chicago. I told him we would stick around a couple of days and
see what we could find out from others. He gave me a list of
associates, including the address to her local dance studio.” He
looked at her, to see what she thought.

“
I definitely am
interested in going there. I feel like that is… somehow… a major
connection for them.”

“
Did you get anything else
today? I mean anything I should know about?” He felt awkward asking
her to reveal things about her gift, which was stupid, since she
had been so forthcoming in the past. It just didn’t feel normal. It
also felt extremely personal. But this was why she was here. To not
use her gift would be stupid.

She shrugged noncommittally. “I got a
lot… I’m just not sure what it all means. I mean, psychologically
this girl does not fit the stereotype for a runaway. There was no
abuse in the family, no signs of mental disruption. She was popular
and well-liked. She fit in….” She paused at Grant’s quizzical
look.

He realized that she was looking at
him and sighed. “Where do you get this?”

She rolled her eyes. “I am a genius!”
she snapped. “What, you think because of the whole psychic thing,
that is all there is to me?” She shook her head in agitation. “What
exactly do you think I was doing in Seattle?”

“
Uh… I thought you were
trying to live in the city,” he muttered, realizing that he had
never bothered to look into what she was doing in
Seattle.

“
I was getting my
Doctorate, in psychology.”

“
Whoa”…. So much for her
being just a kid.

“
Psychology… so this isn’t
just a bluff then?”

Clear shook her head. “No, if anyone
looks into me they will not find ‘Crazy chick who thinks she is
psychic’. They will find that I have all the credentials to be a
profiler. No problem.” She looked at him pensively. “What were you
going to do when your stupid friend looked into me?”

Grant shrugged. “I knew he wouldn’t.
Bryce is…. Well, he’s a cop, not a detective. He likes the simplest
answers, even if they don’t always make sense. He never would have
bothered to check you out.”

Clear shook her head. “I don’t think
you know Bryce as well as you think you do… He’s probably checking
me out as we speak.”

Grant thought for a few minutes,
before broaching it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but asked
anyway. “Do you… I mean… is there… anything I should know… about
Bryce?” He felt stupid asking it and knew he was opening himself up
to having to explain some things to Clear.

Her eyes were half-lidded, almost as
if she didn’t want him to read her. He found it… very seductive,
for some reason… the mystery, maybe?

“
I don’t know what
happened between you two, but it must have been bad. The hostility
and… rage… it’s ridiculous. Worse than between you and your wife.
But there are no specific memories linked to it for either one of
you… either that or you are both suppressing it so deeply...” she
shrugged lightly. “But I do know your wife is in the middle of it
and I also know that he likes antagonizing you. It makes him feel
powerful, when he has felt very powerless for a while.” She used
two fingers to rub her forehead gently and Grant was reminded of
all the migraines she had been having.

“
How is the head?” he
asked softly.

She shrugged.

“
I.. I don’t remember you
having it so bad… before. Any reason?”

“
About 10,0000,” she
chuckled. “Back home, I know everyone’s thoughts and brain
patterns. I can tune them out for the most part. Plus, I am far
enough away from anyone that it is easier to tune out. But here…”
her eyes became a little haunted. “Here, everything is so
overwhelming. It’s like being in an amphitheatre with all 10,000
people screaming at me all at once. All talking about different
things, all speaking unexpectedly and… well, it takes time to tune
all that out.”

“
And I’m making it harder,
aren’t I?” Suddenly realizing that everything he was feeling, every
fluctuation in temper and feeling of anger was hitting her as hard
as him, but she didn’t understand it. He did. She didn’t know how
to deal with it. He suddenly felt guilty, even as she tried not to
show it, he knew he was absolutely right. Then he got sick with the
thought that if she felt everything he felt, she must know how he
felt about her… and every time he thought about her must feel like
a physical assault.
Oh God.

Clear was very confused about what had
happened. One minute they were sitting back, peaceful, the tension
of the last several days together gone. Then they were talking
about the case and the conversation had drifted. Now all she could
feel was repulsion coming from him. She shook her head, fighting
back the tears.

“
I know I am a freak, so
let’s just ignore that,” she muttered.

“
I… I don’t like that this
is hurting you,” Grant said somberly. There was more in his voice,
but she couldn’t hear anything beyond the repulsion he was feeling.
She jumped up off the couch and staggered back three steps. “I will
be fine, if you can just TRY to keep your emotions in check!” she
growled. “I… I think we need to go to the dance studio tomorrow. I
am not feeling well right now, so I think I will go to bed.” She
stumbled past him, ignoring the abashed look he gave her and
closing the door between them. As soon as the door was closed, the
tears she had locked up began pouring from her eyes as if a great
flood gate had been released. She jammed her hand over her mouth
smothering the sobs threatening to give her away.

Tossing herself onto the bed, she
buried her head in the pillow as the sobs racked her body. The
salty tears ran into her mouth and burned her nose, but nothing
hurt as much as her soul knowing that this one man despised her so
very much. How could she have ever thought that he could
understand? How could she have ever imagined a future between them?
She was certain her heart would burst from the agony and
humiliation!

Clear awoke sometime in the wee hours
of the morning and groaned. She hated crying like that. It always
made her feel worse after. Her eyes were swollen and puffy and
burned. Her throat was raw and her head was pounding. She sat up
slowly taking deep breaths to soothe the pain. In the early hours
of the morning the world was very quiet. Crossing her legs, Clear
began to meditate, wiping her soul of all the anger and pain. She
slowly released the tension from her neck and shoulders, down her
spine and pushed the negative energy out through her arms and legs.
Taking deeper and deeper breaths, she cleansed her heart and
mind.

After about twenty minutes she vowed
that she would not get so personally involved with Grant. She knew
that he must be in immense personal conflict right now and she
should not take any of his feelings personally. Shoring up her
mental walls between him, she hoped that this would not prevent her
from learning more about his daughter. She had not realized how
many issues this man had, nor how deeply they were buried. After
the routine, she got up and dressed quietly. With Detective Bryce
gone and not likely to re-join them today, she opted for a more
casual set of clothing. Slipping on a pair of khaki pants and a
light green polo, she then slipped into her tennis shoes. She
suspected they may be doing a bit of walking today.

Grabbing her makeup kit, she slipped
into the bathroom and closed the door before flipping on the light.
She pulled everything out of the bag and sighed. Before Ann had
gotten her hands on her, Clear rarely had worn makeup in the past.
It was an unnecessary venture, but it made her look older and more
grown up, so she went about putting on the makeup. When she was
done, she brushed her hair out and opted for a braided bun,
deciding it would look more professional than her simple pony
tail.

Once she was done, she took a critical
look at herself in the mirror and decided that she did indeed look
more grown up and could pass as a profiler. She put everything back
in her bag and slipped quietly out the door. Glancing up, she saw
that Grant was awake on the couch. She nodded to him curtly and
then tried to smile politely. “I’m ready to go when you
are.”

Grant grimaced and awkwardly
announced, “Give me ten minutes. I need a shower.”

“
I’ll be waiting
downstairs then.” She scooped up the hotel notepad and a pen as she
went.

Chapter Ten

The lobby was still quiet, except for
the man at the concierge desk. He offered a cheerful good morning
and Clear smiled back, feeling that he truly meant it. She settled
down in the lobby and began writing down some of the points that
seemed relevant from what she had gathered at the young woman’s
house yesterday. The change in name was still plaguing her. It
didn’t make sense, so she put question marks around it all. Maybe
there would be something in the journals.

She felt Grant staring at her from the
elevators and glanced up. He had that brooding look again. She
sighed and once again attempted to shore up her mental walls
between them. Gathering her things, she turned and was surprised
how quickly he had crossed the lobby.

“
It’s a bit early, why
don’t we grab some breakfast,” he offered, looking out the lobby
window. Clear glanced up and saw that the sun was just beginning to
rise.

“
Breakfast sounds good,”
she replied.

Grant led the way to a little diner up
the street and tried to remain professional. He knew that somehow
he had made her cry last night. He was also pretty sure he was
causing most of her migraines. He hated hurting her, but didn’t
know how he was. Part of him thought this was deeply ironic, since
she didn’t seem to care that he was hurting. As soon as the thought
presented itself, he banished it before it could crack his calm and
cool composure.

He filled his mind with
the facts that he knew of the case and tried to make connections
between this girl and his daughter.
‘Focus
on what is important, what you can change.
’

They sat down at a two-top and Grant
ordered a black coffee. Clear ordered a Chai tea and a muffin.
After the waitress walked away, Clear tossed a notepad at Grant and
he looked over her notes.