High Energy (11 page)

"Well, I…"

"Blooey will be terribly disappointed, especially after he went to all this

trouble. Won't you, Blooey?" He speared Blooey with a pointed look.

Blooey coughed. "Aye! It wouldn't be right of yer ladyship, would it?"

Zanita looked from one to the other of them, realizing she was neatly trapped.

She slumped in the seat.

"We even have the Sunday paper for you." Tyber's eyes gleamed in triumph while

he handed her the front section of the newspaper.

Hambone tested the air with an upturned nose, and sensing the serving of food,

slowly lumbered to his feet to pad over to the table. He stopped at Tyber's

chair, staring demandingly up at him.

Tyber unconsciously filled a small saucer with some eggs and bacon and placed it

on the floor in front of the scruffy tabby.

Zanita gaped at him. Tyber caught her staring at him after the third forkful of

eggs. "What?"

"You forgot to give the cat some coffee."

"Huh? Oh, he likes his after he eats." He went back to his plate as if the earth

was once again back on its axis, merrily spinning about the sun.

She was in a nut house.

Zanita wisely turned her attention to her newspaper.

They ate in companionable silence except for the occasional curses from the

backyard where Blooey was trying to save his butternut squash from the predicted

freeze that evening. Suddenly, Zanita sat straight up in her chair.

"Tyber, it says here that noted psychic Xavier LaLeche is giving a seminar and a

demonstration on healing this evening!"

Tyber looked up from his Analog magazine with glazed eyes, taking a moment to

readjust to this atmosphere. "Where?"

"At the Kingston function hall in Blaketon."

He rubbed his chin. "Hmm, two hours to get there and two hours back. What time?"

"Eight o'clock; think we can do it?"

"Yeah. It'll be a late night, though. Do you have to get up early in the

morning?"

"Fairly, why?"

"If you promise you won't wake me, I'll drive."

Zanita flushed. "Tyber, we need to get something straight. I'm not going to

spend another night here."

"Of course not."

Zanita nodded in agreement, pleased that he understood.

"I want you to move in."

Her cup clattered in the saucer. "What!"

Tyber left his seat, coming around the table to kneel in front of her on one

knee. He took her chilled hands in his. "Don't get nervous, Curls. I know you've

given up men and I respect that. It's just that I think it will be a lot easier

to investigate this story of yours if we have ready access to each other. You

know, sometimes the best ideas happen in the middle of the night." He smiled

beseechingly at her.

"What—you never heard of a telephone?"

His thumb traced the top of her hand. "It's not the same. You can't brainstorm

over the phone effectively. Didn't you ever hear of think tanks?"

She furrowed her eyes. "Yes, but do you really think it would help you?"

He trapped her hands inside his own. "Immeasurably."

"You mean, temporarily, just while we're working together on the story?"

"Think of all the time we'd save."

She scratched her neck. "I don't know…"

He leaned forward to give her succulent little kisses between his words.

"Don't—you—think—it's—a—good— idea, baby?"

"But Tyber, I told you I don't want to get involved!"

He raised his eyebrows. "Involved? Who said anything about it getting involved?"

"No! I mean us! Us involved…"

"Mmm, we are, aren't we?" His tongue swirled inside her mouth in a devastating

foray.

Blooey started to enter the kitchen carrying a basket of squash. Still kissing

Zanita, Tyber motioned to Blooey behind his back. Without breaking his stride,

the little pirate turned and left the room.

Tyber poured on the heat. "Yes?" he whispered into her mouth.

The man could kiss. Zanita tried to think. It wasn't easy under the

circumstances. She needed his help, that she knew. With Tyber's background, his

input would be invaluable in exposing the fraud. What's more, she would have

more time to work on him for an interview, although she didn't hold out much

hope for that. But move in with him?

Temporarily.

It wouldn't be as if she had to deal with a real relationship or anything.

It was a business arrangement. Sort of.

It would make it easier to work together; she could see that. And if they

indulged in a side… thing, well… they were adults. Truth was, now that Tyber had

given her a taste of the heretofore elusive fruit, she wouldn't mind taking a

few more bites, so to speak. As long as he understood the ground rules.

She clutched his shoulders. "You—you wouldn't think of yourself as my—my

boyfriend, would you?"

Tyber smiled against her cheek. "Hell, no."

Your man, baby. The one you're going to acquire an insatiable taste for. He

kissed her without mercy.

"Yes?" he drawled once more against her mouth, the flat of his palms at her

back, bringing her tight against him.

"Oh God, yes…" Her fingers filtered through the long locks of his hair as she

kissed him back.

When Zanita was getting ready to leave, Blooey purposely walked by the kitchen

door and discreetly gave Tyber the thumbs-up. Aye, the Captain was a pirate

after his own heart. Blooey beamed. Always sets his course and steers true to

it.

Blooey sauntered away singing a ribald sailor's ditty comparing the sleek lines

of a clipper ship to those of the female form.

"I thought you said you were through with men?"

Mills picked up one of Zanita's paperbacks, read the title, and plopped it back

onto the coffee table.

"I am. Kind of." Zanita scurried around the room throwing some clothes,

books—whatever she happened to spot—into some cartons.

"Oh?" Mills looked unconvinced. She shook her head, muttered something under her

breath, then plopped herself onto the coffee table.

"Really. Tyber is… different."

"How so?"

Zanita blushed.

Mills sat up straighten "You didn't!"

Zanita nonchalantly held one of her sweaters up to her in front of the mirror,

trying to decide whether to take it with her.

"He did?"

Zanita looked at her friend through the mirror and raised her eyebrows.

Mills grinned slyly. "When can I meet him?"

"Mills! Behave yourself."

"That good, huh?"

Zanita fell on the couch in a mock swoon, draping a hand across her forehead.

"Incredible."

"Hmm. So, are you two going away for an intimate little trip?" She gestured to

the cartons piled haphazardly over the living room.

"Oh. No, I'm moving in with him."

Mills started choking.

Zanita patted her on the back.

"Are you nuts? What do you mean, you're moving in with him?"

"It's not what you think. Tyber has agreed to work with me on the LaLeche story.

We both thought it would be more… expedient this way. Believe me, Tyber

understands how I feel about getting involved again. It's strictly temporary.

We'll only be together for the duration of the investigation. Think of it as a

professional relationship with personal overtones."

Mills gave Zanita The Look. "Is that what he said?"

Zanita thought a minute. Tyber hadn't exactly said it that way, but the general

gist had been along those lines. "In a manner of speaking."

"Whose manner of speaking?"

"Will you lighten up? It's not as if he—" The doorbell rang. "That must be him;

he said he was going to stop by to help me with this stuff."

Mills raised an eyebrow but wisely refrained from making any comments. She would

reserve her judgment of this Dr. Evans until she met him.

Zanita opened the door to let Tyber in. He was wearing washed-out jeans, boots,

and a brown leather bomber jacket.

His hair hung loose about his shoulders. "Hi, Tyber."

"Hi, baby." He wrapped his arm around her neck, bringing her to him for a quick

kiss.

Flustered as usual by his touch, Zanita turned to Mills, performing a one-way

introduction. "This is my friend, Mills."

Tyber smiled to himself before greeting her friend and completing the

introduction. "Hi." He jerked his thumb in Zanita's direction. "I'm her special

aberration."

Mills did something Zanita had never seen her composed friend do in all the

years she had known her. She gaped, momentarily speechless. When she found her

voice, it was slightly shaky. "Nice to meet you, Tyber. Zanita has said a lot

of—" here she faltered—"interesting things about you."

Tyber's glance flicked to Zanita. His eyes sparkled in amusement. "Mmm, did

she?"

Zanita rushed in to stop this line of conversation from going anywhere else.

"Um… I'm taking all this stuff here, okay?"

Tyber eyed the collection of cartons piled pell-mell with God-knew-what inside.

Anyone else would have packed a suitcase, but not his Zanita. He couldn't help

the brief smile that crossed his face.

"Okay." He bent to retrieve the first carton.

Zanita eyed him with some trepidation. She knew she had overpiled the cartons.

They must weigh a ton. He didn't seem to be having any trouble, though.

Mills went to stand next to her. They both silently eyed Tyber as he knelt down,

jeans pulling taut against his muscular thighs.

Mills spoke softly so her voice wouldn't carry. "I could kill you."

A dimple popped into Zanita's cheek. "Meow."

"Unfortunately, I'm your friend, so I'll have to sheath my claws. You must have

had one hell of a horoscope this month."

They smiled identical smiles at Tyber as he passed them effortlessly carrying

the box.

"I think you turn right here."

"I think you said that an hour ago."

"Do you think we'll be late?"

"Only if the truck doesn't make warp 10," Tyber responded wryly.

"Damn! If we enter the seminar late, we'll stand out too much."

Tyber glanced over at the yellow-and-turquoise polka-dot pant suit she was

wearing and wisely held his tongue.

"Maybe we'll sneak in." Zanita fished in her bag for a nail file.

"Maybe we won't." She stopped rummaging around in her purse to look at him,

surprised. "I think that action is just as likely to cause suspicion as to

alleviate it. What are you looking for, the directions?"

"No, my nail file—I'm hungry and I thought I'd have an apple."

He took his eyes off the road for an instant to stare speechlessly at her.

Non-linear.

"Ah, here it is!" She proceeded to bisect an apple she produced from the depths

of the same bag by spearing it with a metal file. "Here you go." She handed him

the sawed-off half.

Tyber eyed the gritty edge dubiously. "Ah, no thanks— maybe later."

"Aren't you hungry?" She blithely crunched away at the fruit. "Blooey said he'd

leave some sandwiches on the table for us before he goes to bed, or as he put

it, 'before I hit me bunk fer the night'."

"Zanita, do you have any idea where we're going?"

She paled, staring at him wide-eyed. "In—in what sense?"

He rolled his eyes. "In the sense of do you know where Kingston Hall is?"

"Oh." She fidgeted in her seat. "I do and I don't."

"It's a fixed point in space. I don't understand your statement."

"Well… I've been there once before, so I know where it is; only right now I

don't really know where it is."

Tyber shook his head. "Somehow, there was an interesting quantum aspect to your

answer."

"If you say so."

"Wait a minute; here's that corner again. This time I'm turning left."

"There it is! To think we've been going right by it for the past hour and

fifteen minutes because you've been turning right all this time."

Tyber narrowed his eyes at her.

Totally unaware of his searing look, Zanita leaned toward him, whispering

last-minute instructions as if they were about to heist a bank.

"Remember—act nonchalant, try to blend in, and whatever you do, don't call

attention to yourself. We'll just observe him tonight to see if there is

anything odd we can pick up on."

Tyber watched her remove a pair of strapless polka-dot heels from her bottomless

bag, raising a silent eyebrow when she slipped them on.

"Ah, Zanita, about your clothes…" Her head snapped up, a worried expression

marring her sweet face.

"What is it? Is something wrong with them?" She nervously smoothed the crease in

her pants, staring at him anxiously.

He swallowed. "No. No, baby; I just wanted to tell you that I think your outfit

is… is rather…" She gazed at him expectantly, her large violet eyes widening. He

rubbed his jaw. "It suits you."

She beamed. "Thank you, Tyber; that was very sweet of you." She linked her arm

through his as they walked inside. "Remember—lay low."

"Uh-huh."

They found two seats to the rear of the hall. Zanita was relieved to see they

hadn't missed too much; apparently there were a few "opening acts." In fact,

Xavier LaLeche was just coming onto the stage now.

In black suit and turtleneck, LaLeche was in his early forties. He had perfectly

coiffed black hair that was silvered around the edges just so. Zanita thought

him picture-book handsome in a way that was much too slick. When he introduced