(Psychic Visions 01) Tuesday's Child (19 page)

He nodded. "She's unique."

"Aaaah," said the collective voice of everyone listening in.

Maisy nodded. "Fine boned, long hair past her waist and eyes that make you want to cry. She's got my boy tied up in knots. He wants to protect her and devour her at the same time."

Knowing grins broke out on the other faces.

"So, it's serious then?"

Maisy couldn't see who'd spoken. She thought it was Jim, a permanent resident. "You know, I think it might be."

Silence reigned as the first course of hot soup and fresh bread was eaten.

The colonel, with a twinkle in his eyes spoke up. "I can't believe I'm going to be the one to say this, but how come you haven't set up a betting pool for when he asks her to marry him?"

A gentle chuckle rose around the room.

Maisy, acting as if insulted, said, "Brandt was just here telling me I'm not allowed to do that anymore."

The chuckle grew louder.

"And since when do you listen to him?" The colonel beetled his heavy brow in a leer.

She grinned. "Never." She pulled her notebook from her pocket and opened it to a clean page. "Okay, who's placing the first bet?"

The room erupted with voices clamoring to get their dates of choice before they were taken by another person.

With a big grin, and a fat wink at the colonel, Maisy set up a pool on her son's love life.

2:30 pm

S
am and Brandt left their trucks behind the vet's office and stopped at the crosswalk. There was a cafe across the street with an outside patio. Traffic zoomed past until the lights changed.

It had already been a hell of a day. So, it was no surprise that the thought of answering the upcoming questions made Sam nervous. Questions always made her nervous.

They grabbed a table slightly away from the others.

A waitress walked over with menus. Sam shook her head. "Just coffee for me, please."

Brandt snorted. "Like hell." He motioned to the waitress. "I'll have coffee as well. Bring two chicken Caesar salads, please. Just make mine bigger with a side of garlic bread."

Sam stared at him. "And what if I'm not hungry?"

"Too bad. You need to keep your energy up to make the most of our visit with Stefan."

She didn't have an argument for that.

The waitress returned with two mugs of steaming coffee. Sam murmured her thanks, wrapping both hands around the cup. She stared out at the traffic whizzing by.

"Hey, are you there?"

Sam glanced up to see Brandt staring at her. "Sorry, my mind is just wandering."

"You do seem distracted. So talk to me."

She sat back and toyed with the cutlery. "It's not that easy."

"I presume this is about the car incident today?"

"I don't know if it is, or not. I guess so." She sighed. "Can I ask you a question first?"

"What do you want to know?" He took a long drink of his coffee, his eyes on hers.

Her lip curled up, in a sardonic grimace. "That's the thing. I'm not too sure that I do want to know."

The table across from them had a family of five sitting around enjoying a cool drink. Sam watched their normal activity with a hint of jealousy. She'd never been able to have that type of experience. And she never would unless she could put this behind her.

She pursed her lips before lifting her own cup for a sip. "How much of my history have you dug up?"

"I had a surface history on my desk the first day you walked into the station. After taking your fingerprints and DNA, I learned a bit more." He toyed with the sugar packets. "I know you were in a bad car accident several years ago. I know you spent time in a mental hospital."

She closed her eyes, letting her head drop.

"I know you've helped the police in the past and at times, your help appeared to be more of a hindrance." He reached across the table, his hand covering hers. "I know you went to college where your best friend was murdered. You went to the police to offer your help and together, you managed to catch the killer."

"Lucy," she whispered. Memories flooded her mind. Lucy smiling with her wild and crazy coffee cups. She'd haunted curio shops for her next best mug. She'd been so open, so caring, and now she was so dead, just like the other victims. "You have it wrong. I went to the police to see if I could help. I thought I was getting somewhere and then Lucy was murdered. You see, she was murdered because of me. The killer, after finding out I was helping the police, came after me. He got her instead." Guilt tore at her. Her head bowed even more under the weight of the memories. She sniffled. "I couldn't save her. I couldn't save any of them."

"So you ran away. From your education, from your friends, and all of society."

The accusation stabbed into her. "That's not fair," she whispered. "I tried so hard to help those women. It broke my heart when I couldn't."

Brandt squeezed her hand gently, his thumb stroking the soft skin of her palm. Sam watched the slow movement, mesmerized by his gentleness. "Do you realize that's what I do, day in and day out? There are so many people I haven't been able to help. And some that I have. I can't quit just because I don't always succeed. It's important we just keep trying to save the ones we can."

She glanced up, caught by the strength of his gaze. "I didn't totally quit. I tried again, when several children went missing. I found I couldn't ignore the pleas for help. Not when I thought I could do something."

"Did you help?"

She beamed, a lightness inside, bursting forth. "Yes, I found a little girl that was missing. We saved her in time."

He grinned. "It feels great doesn't it?"

The light inside grew stronger. "Yes." Her smile dimmed and fell away. "Then, when the next child showed up dead, the suspicion fell on me again. It got pretty ugly."

Brandt nodded. He could just imagine. When a ship started to sink, all the rats either bailed or turned on each other.

She grimaced. "There was one cop, in particular. He disliked psychics. I think they all did to some degree or another, but he...he hated me." Picking up her cup of coffee, Sam bathed her face in the warmth drifting upward.

"Is that what you were afraid I'd find out about?"

The corner of her mouth tilted. "Yeah, sort of. If you'd talked to this guy, he'd have told you a whole lot of nothing good."

"To tell you the truth, I think I did talk to him."

Sam's stomach curdled. "Oh." She ran her fingers through the loose curls at her temple, the weight of her braid hot and heavy in the sun.

"Is that a problem?" He leaned forward watching her.

She grimaced. "If I show up dead, look to him first."

Brandt stopped and stared at her – his cup stalled mid-air. "Seriously?"

It was all she could do to meet his eyes. Eventually, taking a deep breath, she said, "We had a difficult last meeting." She ran her fingers across her neck. "As much as he hated me, he believed in my skills. It's just he wanted them solely for his use. I ended up taking off. Yes, running away and hiding from everyone. It was better than letting this asshole control my life. He threatened to kill me if I ever told anyone."

"But he was a cop."

"Deputy, actually. And a drug dealer on the side."

He glanced over the cup at her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"Are you saying he could have been behind the wheel of the truck that tried to run you off the road?"

Her shoulders slumped. "I don't know," she half-wailed. " He hated my guts and..." She stopped talking, unable to tell him the whole story. Tears clogged her eyes, emotion clogged her throat. She couldn't believe that after all this time this deputy still had the power to destroy her. Surely, she'd moved past that. "I disappeared and hoped he'd forget about me."

"But once I called him, then he knew where to find you?"

She nodded again.

His gaze was intent on her face. Sam felt heat rise that had nothing to do with the sun.

He stirred his cup until Sam reached across and stilled his hand. "Go and get a second cup so you have something to stir." Even as she picked up her own cup, relief slowly spread through her limbs. Relief to have someone to share this burden with. Relief that she was no longer alone.

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "Do you want another?"

"No, not if we're heading to Stefan's house soon."

Brandt glanced at his watch. "Let's head out. We'll talk on the way."

"Great," she muttered.

"You'll be fine. We'll figure this out. In the meantime, be safe and don't do anything stupid."

They crossed the street to his truck. He walked to her door and unlocked it before walking around to the driver's side. The small concession to old-fashioned courtesy made her feel good.

Getting into the truck was a different story. Her truck was lower to the ground. His had huge tires and no running boards. Fine for a six-foot male, but she barely crested five-foot-four and struggled to get up to the seats. Flustered, Sam finally managed to shut the door and get settled. A sidelong glance at Brandt's face didn't help. He was trying to hold back a grin.

Sam harrumphed and refused to look at him again.

As they passed the town's welcome sign, she ventured to break the silence. "How long have you known Stefan?"

Brandt glanced at her quickly. "Close to ten years now."

Sam raised her eyebrows at that. "That's quite awhile. Is he your age?"

That question brought a frown to his face. "I don't know how old he is. I'd say he's mid thirties. Then again, he doesn't look a day older now than when I met him."

Older would be better than younger, in this case. Sam could only hope he had decades of experience handling what the psychic life dished out. She needed to talk to someone who'd already figured this stuff out.

Brandt took a left turn off the highway and drove further into the country. Peace surrounded the area. Heavily treed on the left and rolling hills on the right. Stunningly beautiful and something she hadn't expected to see.

"He lives just a couple of miles further."

She nodded. "And he prefers to live away from people, just like I do."

"Yeah." Brandt snorted. "Stefan is different. There's really no other way to describe him."

Pursing her lips, she thought about that. In a way, the same description applied to her too. Better to wait and see just what that meant to Brandt. Maybe it would give her an idea of how he saw her.

3:00 pm

Brandt navigated the last turn onto Stefan's twisting driveway. The man had chosen a hell of a spot for a hideaway. Now that Brandt lived closer, he had a chance to visit and not just talk on the phone. Stefan didn't like phones. Then he bordered on antisocial at times.

Brandt regarded Sam's profile. Something was bugging her. In typical Sam style, she sat worrying on something instead of outright asking him.

The house winked at them from between the trees. Brandt drove around to the far side and parked. One side was glass that twinkled like diamond facets in the light. The rest was built of logs – huge logs. Evergreens surrounded the house on three sides. Stunning in colors, the air almost vibrated with an otherworldly appeal. Birds approved as they flitted and dipped between the foliage, chirping happily.

Sam appeared awestruck. Remembering how he'd felt the first time he'd arrived, with the sun bouncing off all the glass, he could fully understand her reaction.

"Ready?" He couldn't wait. Putting these two together in the same room should be interesting. Stefan wasn't the friendliest of males. But all women reacted to Stefan – one way or another. Over time, Brandt had come to understand the type of woman each was, by her reaction.

For that reason alone, he'd wanted to be on hand when Sam met Stefan for the first time. He needed to see Sam's reaction and see into the depths of who she was.

3:18 pm

Sam shut the truck door gently. Turning, she tried to take the scene in. She couldn't imagine being the man lucky enough to own such a place.

Brandt, several steps ahead, turned to her, one eyebrow raised. "Coming?

They walked toward the front door. "How long has he lived here?" Sam couldn't help it. Her head swiveled from side to side at the spectacular foliage, and unique wooden carvings peering out amongst the brighter-than-believable plants. The strong scents blended and fused into a fresh woodsy smell. "Everything appears like it's on drugs, for God's sake."