Hidden Magic (5 page)

She gave him a gorgeous smile as she shut off the lights inside the glass display cases. “I have to lock up. Give me one minute.”

“Take your time.” As long as he could watch her, he’d give her forever. She moved with the grace of a cat, bending to reach under the counter for the switches. Her hair grazed her smooth shoulders and made him long to touch her skin.

When she stood up, he realized he was gawking at her so he shifted his gaze to the selection of CDs on the wall and feigned interest in the new age music and guided meditations.

She bent to pet the cat he’d seen there earlier. “Good night, Valiente. See you tomorrow.” She hit a few buttons on the alarm system keypad. “Okay, let’s go. We have twenty seconds to get out.” After she locked the door, he let her into his car. “So this is what the inside of a police car looks like.”

“I’m sure it feels different from the back seat.” He winked at her then noticed that she’d paled. “I’m kidding.”

Her throat twitched with a swallow. Why was she so nervous? Maybe she was one of those people who got jittery on a first date but the cop in him wondered if it was more. Was she reading his mind or something? Of course not. Because such things were not possible.

“So what’s the story with the cat? It lives at the store?”

The corners of her lips curled up in a gorgeous smile. “A lot of the residents of the camp have pets, some dogs, but most are cats. Valiente belonged to Eloise’s daughter Nicole who worked here. The cat came to work with her every day. But when Nicole left for college in August she wasn’t able to take her to the dorm. Valiente was miserable at home without her master so Eloise decided to make her the shop cat.”

He chuckled. “She’s the perfect mascot for an occult store.”

“Absolutely. Where are we going?”

He buckled himself in then started out of the camp. “A little place I know outside of town.”

“Don’t want to be seen with the witch, huh?”

Damn, he’d forgotten about the witch part. He loosened his tie. “The
Redneck Riviera
has the best ribs in the state.”

“Um, ribs? Do they have any vegetarian entrees? I hate to be a pain in the ass, but I don’t eat meat.”

Another thing he hadn’t remembered. What was wrong with him? He lived and died by details. Suddenly all his brain cells had turned to mush. Or more likely, they’d headed south to his groin. “Change of plans.” Taking a left at the next corner, he pointed his car toward
Murphy’s Pub
.

When they got there, he held her hand and led her inside the tavern. Touching her felt right somehow. A few guys turned to check her out as he took her toward the back. He tightened his grip possessively and pulled her closer. “This okay?” He gestured at a booth adjacent to the bar.

“Fine.” She slid across the bench and he feasted on the sight of her long legs covered in sexy fishnet stockings. Her shirt dipped below one shoulder revealing the lacy black camisole underneath.

Everything about her was intriguing—her unusual earthy scent, her soulful eyes and even the hint of vibrato in her voice. Maybe it had been too long since he’d been with a woman but he wasn’t the kind of guy who took just anyone home to satisfy his carnal needs. He had to feel a connection to them, had to know there was the possibility of more than just sex.

The music was louder and the place more crowded than he remembered, but he knew they served several vegetarian selections. A waitress came and took their drink order—two draft beers.

He gave the menu a quick glance, decided on a burger. “You will
eat
this time, right? No drinking and running like you did at lunch.”

“I’m starved. The veggie quesadilla sounds good.” She shifted in her seat. Why did she seem so uncomfortable? She bit her lower lip as she darted her gaze around the room. Did she have a jealous ex-boyfriend lurking around? Or worse—a current boyfriend. No, she’d said she didn’t date. He hoped to hell he could change her mind about that.

He draped an arm over the back of the seat. “Are you an outlaw or something?”

She blanched but recovered so quickly he wasn’t actually sure he’d seen correctly.

“What? Of course not.” Then her eyes lit up and she smiled. “You enjoy catching people unawares. I suspect that’s because you like having the upper hand with them.”

“Ha! Touché. One of the hazards of the job.”

She arched an eyebrow that was a shade darker than her hair. “Are you interrogating me, Detective?”

“Interviewing would be more apropos.” He waited as the waitress dropped their drinks and took their food order. Then he lifted his mug in a toast. “To getting to know each other.”

She tapped her glass to his. “To convincing you to let me help find Hannah.”

The sobering reminder of the missing, possibly dead girl soured his drink.

“Any new leads today?” She sipped her beer, which left a dot of froth on her upper lip.

God, he wanted to lick it off. He had to look away until she’d wiped it off. “You know that’s all confidential.” In truth, he hadn’t made any progress on the case in more than a week and the pressure to solve it—to bring that girl home—was getting to him, haunting his dreams as well as his waking thoughts. “Hypothetically, if I did accept your help, what would you need to…you know, get vibes or whatever, about Hannah?”

She knitted her brow but didn’t say anything for a minute. “Well, I’m not exactly sure since I’ve never done anything like this before. I think I’d like to see more of her personal belongings. Maybe I could get a sense of her and of where she is. Think you could make that happen?” She caught her lower lip between her teeth and he nearly came unglued.

He cleared his throat. “I haven’t agreed to let you help with the case. And even if I did, we’d have to get permission from her parents for you to have access to their house. They’re very…” He thought about Mr. and Mrs. Saxon. “Cautious.”

A black man strode past their table, his eyes fixed on Jilly with obvious interest. Zander sat up taller. When the guy finally looked at him, Zander gave him a less-than-subtle scowl to warn him away.

Geez, where the hell had that come from? Anyway, how was a red-blooded male supposed to not notice her? She was stunning and sexy. Everything about her was appealing on an elemental level. And he wanted to get to know her for all the wrong reasons.

He lifted his mug. “Let’s talk about you. Are you from here?” He knew she wasn’t. He’d have noticed her before if she’d grown up in the area.

She hesitated, cleared her throat. “Um, no. I’ve been living at the camp and working at
Mind’s Eye
about a year now. What about you? I gather you’re born and raised in Freedom Bay.”

Was she purposely being evasive? He made a mental note to run her name through the system. “Third generation Floridian, although my mother was born in Georgia. Where’s your family?”

She glanced toward the bar. “I don’t really have anyone left.”

Damn, he’d touched on a sore spot. She was awfully young to have lost both parents. Before he could change the subject, someone got up on the small stage in the corner and tapped the mike. The noise level in the room dropped several decibels as a middle-aged man waited.

“As y’all know, tonight we have karaoke.” His announcement was met with hoots and hollers and a couple boos. “Who wants to be first?”

Zander spotted the karaoke machine to the man’s right. He kept his voice low as he leaned toward Jilly. “Now’s your chance to be a star.”

“Not in this lifetime.
You
do it.” She gave him a dazzling smile that stole his breath.

“Is that a dare?”

“Do you have the nerve to get up there and sing in front of a crowd?” She batted those long lashes at him and he was struck with wanting.

He’d do anything to impress her, to keep her in his company longer. “That
was
a dare.” He grabbed his drink and took a gulp then headed to the stage.

“We have our first victim of the evening,” the MC said as a few people clapped.

Zander got up on the stage and checked the list of available songs. He picked an old favorite,
Brown Eyed Girl
. He didn’t give a damn about how the audience liked his singing. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was only one person in the room he cared to impress.

The MC handed him the mike. As the first strains of the song played, he held the microphone close. “This is for Jilly.”

Her face reddened but she wore that amazing smile that quickened his blood. When he started singing, her jaw dropped. Did she really think he’d have gotten up and made a fool of himself? He held her gaze through most of the song except when he needed to glance at the screen to be sure of the lyrics. Everyone in the room melted away until there was only her, only her beautiful eyes on him as he serenaded her.

As soon as the music stopped, the bar erupted in applause and he remembered they weren’t alone. People jumped to their feet, cheering and whistling. Shaking off the unwanted attention, he returned to the table as the next person approached the stage.

“I’m speechless.” Jilly’s voice was husky as if she’d just awakened. As if she’d been lost in the moment as he was. She just stared at him and he could have sworn he saw desire in her eyes. Or was he merely fooling himself?

She leaned her elbows on the table and steepled her fingers. “I didn’t see that coming. So why’d you become a cop instead of a rock star?”

He’d never been one for talking about himself but the way she looked at him made him want to tell her everything. “I was in a garage band in high school. We were okay, but nothing to shout about. Girls liked it though. Definitely enhanced my social life.”

“Oh, you were one of
those
guys. Did you have long hair and tats? Is that why you wear a suit now? Cover up the memory of your bad boy days?”

Damn, she was pretty. But there was more, something he couldn’t put his finger on, something electric and unrelenting.

“You found me out. My wardrobe choices have nothing to do with my job.”

She narrowed her eyes and seemed to be staring over his head, around him. He glanced toward the ceiling. “You see a spider making his way down from the rafters or something?”

Her face lit up with amusement. “You caught me. I was checking out your aura.”

The reminder of her vocation put a damper on his mood. “So you can see my aura?”

“I can. Yours is a yellowish-orange.”

“Is that good or bad?” Not that he believed she was seeing anything there.

Her shrug was noncommittal. “Depends. I think on you it’s good. Means you’re detail-oriented and scientific. A perfectionist, but you’re creative. I should have known you were a musician. A good one.”

“I’m not really that good.” The conversation was getting too personal and too focused on him. “Could you pick up on Hannah’s aura from seeing her things or her photo?”

Her face fell. “I wish I could. I can only seen auras around people who are right in front of me and even then it’s not always clear. My thing is getting impressions from objects like I did from that necklace you have of hers. Certain items carry more of a person. Since she wore the necklace close to her heart, it bears a strong trace of her…essence. If I could touch her things, be in her bedroom or her house, I think maybe…I don’t know. I just want to help.”

The passion in her eyes made him wish she cared that much about
him.
But he should be thinking about the case. His biggest issue with not allowing her access to anything associated with the case wasn’t that he didn’t believe in psychics, but that he liked her. A lot. Collaborating with a woman he was so attracted to didn’t sit well with him.

“It’s not a good idea, Jilly.” He’d known cops who worked together then started dating and it usually ended badly. And God knew that despite her admittedly being a witch and a psychic, he wanted to get very personally involved with this woman. More than anything, he had to do whatever it took to find Hannah, but this wasn’t the way.

Jilly frowned at Zander’s answer. But she refused to give up. She had the rest of their
date
to convince him otherwise. And she wasn’t above dipping into her witch’s toolbox to do it. For Hannah’s sake, she had no compunction about using her gifts to impress Zander. He didn’t believe in her abilities or in any psychic powers period. Maybe she could change his mind. “Why don’t you believe I can help you? I know you think psychics are all frauds, or worse.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t have to be psychic to see that. I know my grandmother goes for that stuff, but I’m not gullible like she is.”

Ouch.
“Gullible? Don’t sugarcoat how you feel, detective.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I never said I pull any punches.”

Yeah, she’d have to prove her skills to him. She’d occasionally resorted to what she called instant magic, which was as simple as channeling her energies into a small, specific goal such as making a traffic light turn green or sending someone a telepathic message to make a phone call. Didn’t always work, but it was amazing how often it did. “What if I could
show
you that it’s real? That I can work magic. Would you believe if you saw it with your own eyes?” She glanced around for their waitress.

His lips curved into a slow smile. “Sure. I’d have to.”

“Okay. When the waitress brings our food, she’s going to switch our orders and give you mine and yours to me.”

He laughed. “Okay, that’ll be a start.”

She crossed her fingers, her trigger for her instant magic and pictured the waitress in her mind. Then she concentrated on sending her a mental message to give Zander her quesadilla and her the cheeseburger.

Zander checked his watch and folded his arms over his chest. “Can’t you make her hurry up with the food? I’m starved.”

“I’ll work on that.” She watched him trace little circles on the condensation on his glass with his finger. Her nipples tingled and peaked against the lace of her bra. When she glanced at him, he had a wicked grin on his lips.

Great. She wasn’t the only one who could read certain thoughts. Her cheeks heated. She had to concentrate less on her body’s reaction to him and more on her magic so she could convince him that she might be of assistance to his case.