Hidden Pearl (10 page)

“What did it tell you about me?”

“You really want to know?”

“Sure.”

“Well I barely know you, of course, but... my instincts would tell me that you have been hurt by life and are taking no chances on it happening to you again.”

“Sounds like you took one too many psychology classes.”  He used the distraction of the off ramp to avoid continuing that train of conversation. In moments they were parked in the restaurant lot. He shifted in the seat to look at her as she unfastened her seat belt. "What are we doing?" he asked.

"I would say we are having dinner”

"Just that?”

“It’s all either of us want, isn’t it?”

He leaned toward her and she knew he was going to kiss her. All it would have taken was turning her head, and it wouldn't happen. Maybe nothing would then ever happen between them. It would have been the smart thing to do, but she looked up into his dark eyes and knew she wasn’t going to do the smart thing when it came to this man. Something deep inside her spoke to him on a level she couldn’t access.

His lips lightly touched hers, the touch soft and tender. She felt hers soften under his touch. He brought his hand to the back of her head. She felt it entangled in her hair. She reached up then touching his hair. She wanted it loosened but she resisted the temptation to free the tie on it.

Long moments seemed to pass as the kiss went on, his tongue delving into her open mouth, igniting fires that had nothing to do with dinner, then he pulled back, his eyes ebony. "I'm a fool," he whispered.

"A kiss is just a kiss.”

"Sometimes it’s not.”

“Sometimes it is.” She knew it wasn’t with them.

“I can't afford a woman like you."

She knew he didn't mean money. "Why don't we take this slow," she said, sitting back in her own seat, but longing to reach out again. “See where this goes.”

The muscle in his jaw quivered. “That could be the most dangerous thing of all."

"Can we just enjoy tonight then? We can talk, eat dinner, find out if we hate the same things. You know, I don’t need complications in my life anymore than you.” She wondered though if it was already too late to avoid complications. Maybe it had been from the moment she walked into his office that first day.

Good Lord, what was she thinking? She didn’t believe in love at first sight. Ridiculous. Worse, she didn’t want a relationship that got in her career’s way. Freedom, she needed to be able to take off on a moment’s notice. Go where she chose. This whole train of thought endangered all she had.

His faint smile made her wonder if he was reading her mind, but he didn’t say anything as he got out of the car, coming around to get her door. She had waited, sure he was the type of man who would want to open doors.

When she was standing beside him, she looked up into his eyes but for once in her life, she didn’t have any words either. He put his hand on her back, and turned them toward the restaurant.

#

Christine knew the meal had been delicious, but she barely remembered what it had been. She sat with a cup of coffee in front of her, S.T. across from her, and a hundred questions on her mind.

"Go ahead," he said, sipping his own black brew.

She looked up and smiled, getting used to the way they communicated without words. "Tell me about your mother," she said. "Did your feeling of undependable women start there."

"You
did
major in psychology,” he teased.

"Actually it was anthropology, but all photographers read human nature if they want to take the kind of photographs printed in places other than catalogs."

"You sure don’t like catalogs much.”

“I did my stint with those kind of pictures, but I always wanted more.”

“You the kind of woman who always wants more?”

“Now who’s the psych major?”

He ignored that. “Back to my mother, does anybody like talking about their mothers?”

“I can sometimes.”

“I barely know mine.”

"You weren’t with her much. I don’t suppose that’s easy for a child to understand.”

"She tried to explain it later. Said she had to go. Said the Dinè can’t live apart from that red soil. My father had no place there, no interest in being in the middle of nowhere. She thought I had a chance for a better life if I stayed with him. I have seen where she lives, seen the land, the people, but she should have understood there are many forms of poverty."

"For some cultures, the land is their identity."

"She should have thought of that before she had kids, don’t you think?”

“Would you have rathered never having been born?”

“Life has treated me well overall; so definitely not; but if she’d wanted her son to care what happens to her, she might’ve made more effort to be with him. I've seen her maybe four or five times that I can remember. She lives outside Tuba City, a shack really. When I offered her money to get a better place, she turned me down flat. She said she'd found...
hozho
and it was there on that piece of dirt and rock."

"
Hozho
?"

"The Dinè believe people get sick because they're out of harmony from some violation of a taboo, witchcraft, out of control living, and it puts a man out of balance. Many of their rituals are aimed at restoring that balance. The word is
hozho.
"

"Have you gone through any of those rituals?"

"Why would I? I don’t believe in any of it. Oh my mother wanted me to. She thought that I had a hole inside, said I had to get right with the Holy Ones, like I believe in holy ones
.
"

"You don’t believe in God or gods?"

“I believe in what I can see, feel, touch and some of that is suspect." He grinned. "You probably still believe in the tooth fairy.”

She smiled too. “And that would be bad, I suppose?”

“Let me think about the answer to that one.”

"I do believe in god."

His sexy smile widened.  "Which one?"

“I am working that out.”

"Peter Soul’s kind?"

She shuddered. “Definitely not that. Are you seriously thinking about building that church for him?”

“Not a chance. I don’t believe in any kind of church, consider them frankly to be damaging to human commonsense, but I will go to find out if Shonna was there and if anybody knows what happened to her.”

“They won’t tell you if they do. Do you know what they’re like down there?”

The waiter interrupted their conversation by refilling their coffee cups. “I can make an educated guess,” he answered when they were again alone.

"It was like zombies without the eating people part—at least I hope without that part. They don’t think for themselves. They will only tell you what he wants you to know.”

“Shonna was one of those. Maybe she left or...” He let his voice trail off. The other possibility is he’d be looking for a burial ground up there.

“Did you try the police?”

He nodded. “Shonna didn’t lead the kind of life that would make them care what happened to her.  They would just assume she drifted on which is, of course, possible. The only place I might find answers is out at Soul’s compound.”

“Unless he wants you to know something, you will get nothing there.”

“You seem pretty definite on that.”

“I am.”

“Well he has covered his trail pretty well, I give you that. Research online about him gave nothing. There is website, books for sale, nothing contradictory or questioning and if anybody put up anything like that, he got rid of it. He flies under the radar.”

“Do you remember the Jim Jones story?”

“Sure, the people who drank poisoned kool-aid because he said to do it.”

“Well, that’s what it seems to me that you will find at his compound." She debated a moment. “I know this won’t make sense to you but sometimes I feel things. Take this for what you will, but Soul is dangerous especially to you. Didn’t you feel it today?"

“What?”

“He’s an energy vampire.”

He laughed. “You are kidding.”

“I mean it, Sheridan. He’s sucks people’s energy to grow stronger himself.”

He grinned. "More than a few people do that.”

“But he’s better at it than most.”

“I can take care of myself.”

She nearly laughed at that. It was so macho, so typical of what she'd have expected him to say. "Your mother wanted to find her daughter but not to lose her son.  I don’t think you understand what you are up against.”

“Christine. If I don’t believe in gods, I sure don’t believe in demons either.”

She managed a smile although she didn’t feel like smiling. “Do you understand that Soul is a man without ethics?”

“A lot of shysters are.”

“He’s more than a shyster. He’s...” She stopped, wishing she had better words for what she sensed.

“Listen, it’ll be fine. I’ll be careful; but I have to find what happened to my sister. I wasn't there for her and maybe I can’t be now, but I do have to try."

She felt frustrated but understood she wasn’t going to change his mind. Probably she was over exaggerating the risk. S.T. was a grown man. He could take care of himself and yet...

“Well just remember to not trust him, not for a second."

"You're afraid of him." It wasn't a question.

She didn't like admitting she was afraid of anything, but maybe so where it came to Soul. "He's a man to fear," she said, determined to make S.T. understand with what he was dealing.  "Your sister disappearing.  He lures away your contractor; then he shows up. Doesn’t it all seem too pat?"

"It’s unlikely any of it is connected." 

“Or it all is.”

He reached across the table, laying his hand over hers. "You're letting your imagination run away with you."

“I don’t think so.” She wished she was, wished she believed she was being silly, but if S.T. went to the compound for the Servants of Grace, he would be in danger. "Just, please, don’t think of him as an ordinary person. Don’t expect him to do the sane or logical thing.”

He smiled. She saw the amusement in his eyes. “You sound like a mother.”

“Good.” She frowned. “If you go back, I will have to too; and I had planned to just mail him the photos.”

He looked irritated. “You can’t be serious.” She just looked at him. “You think you could take care of me? Exactly how would you do that?” Amusement was back in his eyes. “Gun or knife?”

She lifted her chin. “Were you planning to take a weapon?" she retorted.

"This is ridiculous. You're talking like I'd be walking into an armed camp or a nest of vipers."

"Maybe that's just what it would be."