Shades of Gray Page 8
Not even Jake?
I swallowed hard at the lump in my throat. Where was he now? Still with the beautiful Kolonda? Too bad my ability didn’t extend to reading people. Unfortunately, I had to rely on regular intuition for my personal relationships. Or go around secretly touching their personal belongings, a level to which I refused to stoop.
We’d reached the double front doors, where Ian and Tracy had paused. “Ben and I are the only ones who aren’t family men,” he was saying.
“Oh?” My heartbeat quickened. “I bet that makes you a better attorney, not having to worry about a wife and kids.”
Ian’s forehead wrinkled. “Believe me, it’s not by choice. I happen to think a family is a good thing for a man.”
Since I’d read that married men tended to live longer than unmarried men, he’d probably be wise to seek a wife. I smiled at Ian. “I meant for your clients, of course. Like Mr. Russo. I bet he’s glad you’re single so you can focus so completely on his case.”
“He didn’t comment either way.” Was that a tint of annoyance in Ian’s voice?
“Tell me,” I continued. “Did that come up in your conversation? That you and Ben are the only men in your company who aren’t married?”
Tracy’s gaze sharpened, and I saw she knew where I was going.
“Yes, when we were looking at the portraits.”
“Is that when you told him about Dennis’s family?”
Ian didn’t speak for several seconds, and everyone else was also silent and unnaturally still. Tawnia’s eyes were wide, Tracy’s dismayed, and Shannon’s intent. I felt as if I’d dropped a stink bomb in the middle of a nice dinner party. Or walked into a fancy restaurant without my shoes, which had actually happened more than once.
“Not Dennis specifically. All of my employees.” Ian spoke in his usual confident manner, but there was a line between his eyes. Of concern? Guilt? I didn’t know him well enough to say.
“Thank you for your time,” I said. “It was nice to meet you.” I offered my hand again before going past him to the door.
“An unusual woman,” I heard him say in a low voice as the door began to shut behind me.
“You can say that again.” Shannon, of course, spoke loud enough so I’d be sure to hear.
The heat emanating from the sidewalk felt good on my feet after the cold tile in the air-conditioned lobby. I lifted my face to the sun and absorbed the blissful rays until the others joined me.
I thought Shannon and Tracy would be annoyed at my interference, but Shannon’s next words surprised me. “We’d better put someone watching the wife and kids,” he said in an undertone.
“I’ll do it.” Tracy flicked her eyes toward me and in them I saw disappointment.
As we walked to the cars, I fell into step with her. “I hope I didn’t mess things up for you and Ian Gideon.”
Tracy flashed me white teeth, perfectly straight except for the slight sideways tilt of one of her canines, which gave her smile character and a bit of flare. Easily fixed, but obviously she knew it worked for her. “You didn’t mess things up. He’ll call. No misreading those signs.”
I wished I had her confidence when it came to men. “You don’t think he’s too old?”
“Ian?” Tracy laughed. “Ten years is nothing these days. I find him attractive.”
“Must be the suit.” Though I knew what she meant. Ian Gideon had confidence, presence, and a nice smile. Being rich only helped. “I’m betting he told that Russo character far too much about Dennis without even meaning to.”
Tracy’s smile faded. “It’s a common mistake people make. Criminals know the right questions to ask. I’m just unhappy I didn’t get this information sooner. I’m worried about Sophie and the kids.”
I liked her better for calling Dennis’s wife by her first name—unlike Shannon. Which goes to show that sometimes first impressions weren’t all they were touted to be. I hadn’t taken to Tracy the first time I met her and not because I cared that Shannon’s new partner was so young and beautiful. I’d crossed him off my possibility list long before she showed up.
“You really think Sophie might be in danger?” I asked as I reached my sister’s car. Shannon and Tawnia were closing in behind us.
Tracy shrugged. “I don’t know. It all depends on why Dennis ran, who he really is, who’s looking for him, and how far they’re willing to go.”
“I’d say they were willing to go as far as murder,” Shannon said. “Which means his entire family and anyone who snoops too deeply is in danger.”
“You mean like me.” I lifted my chin in silent challenge.
His eyes pinned mine. “Like you.”
Unfortunately, I had to agree.
Chapter 6
I was in a lousy mood when Tawnia dropped me off at my shop, where I retrieved my car and drove to my apartment. My limbs felt heavy, and a dull throb had begun in my temples. I wanted nothing more than to fall into bed. If I could get my brain to turn off.
Jake hadn’t called, and my mind was working overtime. I imagined him and Kolonda catching up on old times and perhaps discovering there was still a connection. The problem was that Jake and I as a couple were too new, though we’d spent considerable time as friends. That, and my luck with men had never been very good. If Jake hadn’t been my best friend before, I’m not sure I would have trusted him enough to let myself proceed even this far into a relationship in only a few weeks.
Inside the apartment where I’d lived all my life, I staggered across the room and tumbled over the back of the couch, pulling my mother’s crocheted afghan over me as I settled on the cushion. Faded imprints of her misted through my body like a warm breeze on a cool day. I’d never washed the afghan and wouldn’t, not as long as it held a trace of the mother I still missed after twenty-two years. The ache for Summer was not as strong as it was for Winter, my father, but it was younger and more needy, rooted in the eleven-year-old child I was when she died of breast cancer.
The couch was comfortable, despite its Victorian origin, because I’d added a plush mattress-like cushion and numerous matching pillows when I’d reupholstered it years ago. The carvings on the wood were incredible, captivating me the minute I’d seen it, but the previous padding had left a lot to be desired. Now it cradled my tired body in comfort.
The next thing I knew, Jake was there, his warm hand gliding down my cheek, his lips touching mine. “Hey, beautiful. Wake up.”
I loved when he called me that, especially on the days when I felt I’d been dragged out of the Willamette River all over again after surviving the bridge collapse.
“Hey, you’re back. Find any interesting clues for your friend?” I tried to sit up, but the world wavered. I closed my eyes and shook my head to clear it. Big mistake. Pain knifed through my skull. “Ow,” I said without meaning to, bringing up my hand to the place above my ear where the pain had originated.
“You okay?”
“I’m not sure.” The pain was gradually fading, though. “I think I’m tired. It was a long day.”
Jake eased onto the couch under me, pulling me close. “It was the imprints, wasn’t it?”
“Dennis witnessed a murder.”
Jake’s arms tightened, and I relaxed my back against his chest, letting his presence soothe me. “Tell me about it,” he said.
I did because I needed to tell him every bit as much as I wanted to hear about him and Kolonda. “I’m not sure what to make of it, but I wonder if Sophie’s ever going to see her husband again. Even if he can avoid those people in the car Tawnia drew, what if he disappears permanently to get away from them?”
“He wouldn’t leave his wife and children. Not forever.” Jake put his feet up on my coffee table, careful to avoid my antique bowl and figurines. “He’ll have to go to the police eventually.”
Once I would have believed him, but now I wasn’t so sure. Another questionable legacy from my ability to read imprints. I’d seen so many bad things lately that thinking the best of someone was no longer my first impulse. I mourned that loss of innocence. Of course now I could help people. I had to remember that.
“The key has to be Russo.” I wondered if Shannon was talking to him now, or if he’d been put off until Saturday morning. I was all too aware of the time clicking by. I reached for my bag to see if Tracy or Shannon had left a message on my phone, but a wave of dizziness had me falling back on Jake.
“When was the last time you ate?” Jake asked.
“I don’t remember. Lunch, I guess.”
“That was nine hours ago. You need to eat something.”
Nine hours? I was surprised so much time had passed but more surprised at the lateness of his arrival. “I’m not hungry.”
“Maybe not, but I think those imprints are taking their toll. Do you think you should pull back a bit?”
“You were the one who always urged me to use my ability.”
“That was before I knew it’d do this.”
“I just need to pace myself. Rest in between. It’s like using any muscle, I think.”
From the corner of my eye, I could see Jake’s smile. “So you’ve got a sore imprint-reading muscle?”
“Or something. Tell me about the apartment buildings.” My eyes drifted to the miniature grandfather clock on the mantel above my fireplace. “You were there a long time, so you must have some idea if Kolonda has a good case.”
He leaned back on the couch, his arms still around me. “I think so, but I’m going to have to call a few friends to verify it. I don’t know if my testimony will hold up in court or anything since I’m not really an expert.” He hesitated, but I didn’t make it easier for him. “I didn’t mean to stay so long. We got talking about old times.”
I almost wished he hadn’t been so forthright. “She was your girlfriend.”
“How did you know?”
“The compact.”
“Oh, right.” There was an uncomfortable silence before he added, “Do you want to hear about it?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. I mean, we’ve both dated a lot, but it’s weird having someone you cared about come back into your life.”
“If you think it’s weird, imagine how I feel.” He sighed. “It was high school. You know how everything was back then. All drama and no sense. Kolonda and I had it all planned. I was already working a bit of construction and twelve bucks an hour seemed like an awful lot to me. She was going to teach, and I’d stay in construction, and that’s exactly what we started doing. She went to college to get her teaching degree, and I got a full-time job. Her father, who made twenty times what I did, didn’t approve. So it ended.”
“She listened to her father.”
“Kolonda was his only child. His wife had died, and he and Kolonda were close. Education was his mantra, one she believed in. I didn’t stand a chance.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh that disturbed me more than if he’d expressed anger.
I twisted my head to get a better look at him. Brown skin with the stubble that was always present by this time of night, liquid eyes the color of dark chocolate that radiated seriousness instead of his usual humor, the prominent cheekbones giving his face character and toughness that never showed in his actions. He was a strong man with a soft heart, who cared about stray kittens and customers and, unfortunately, needy old girlfriends. And me. I knew he cared about me.
“Maybe it’s good this happened,” I said in what I thought was a surprisingly calm voice given the situation. “I think what happened back then really bothers you. This is your chance to resolve that.” Something Winter would have said. He’d believed that if you weren’t right with your past, you couldn’t live properly in the present or plan for a future.
He tilted his head, leaning it against my cheek. “Doesn’t make sense to feel anything about that time. It was so long ago.”
“But you do.” My stomach rebelled at the idea—I wasn’t quite as complacent as Winter would have been.
“Yeah.” Jake’s cheek rubbed up and down mine, his growing stubble tickling me. “But it’s not the same.”
“Of course not.”
“I love you.”
It was what I wanted to hear. I turned enough to give him a kiss and then settled with my back cuddled against his chest. Darkness grew from the edges of my vision until it filled the room.
The next thing I knew, Jake was gently slapping my face. “Autumn, wake up. Autumn, are you okay?”
I looked at him, confused. “Here, drink this.” He lifted my head and held a cup to my lips.
Green drink from my fridge, made of spinach, raspberry leaf, wheat grass, a few strawberries, fresh apple juice, and whatever else I’d had in my kitchen when I’d made it this morning. I felt energy seeping into me as the liquid reached my stomach. I also felt a craving for protein—a lot of it.
“What happened?” I asked after a few swallows.
“I don’t know. I think you passed out for a few minutes. You were breathing and looked peaceful, but it didn’t seem like natural sleep. I want to get some food in you to see if that’s the problem. I knew you’d kill me if I called an ambulance.”
He had that right. “I feel a little tired, that’s all.” The dizziness I’d felt upon awaking was passing.
“You stay here. I’ll make something. I saw you have a couple of steaks.”
“Those were for our dinner.” Or would have been if he’d shown up on time.
“You rest here, and I’ll make them. Yell if you need me.”
Another great thing about Jake is that being an herb guru, he’s almost as good a cook as I am. I was content to let him take care of me, especially because it soothed away my worries about Kolonda and Dennis and Sophie. What Jake and I had didn’t depend on other people.
I’d eaten the tender grass-fed steak, organic potatoes flavored with real butter and sea salt, and lightly steamed squash and vegetables when Tawnia telephoned. It was after ten, well past her usual time to call.
“What is it?” I sat up and was glad not to feel any dizziness. I could hear the clank in the background as Jake washed the dishes.
“It’s Sophie. I went over to check on her a while ago because I saw a strange car in her driveway, a real expensive one.”
Exactly the type of car Ian Gideon’s client Mr. Russo might drive. I felt a chill as I asked, “Who was there?”
“No one. That’s just it. When I asked about the car, all she would say is that it was a gift and she didn’t know who gave it to her. But it was brand spanking new. I’m sure of it.”
“Wasn’t she freaked out?”
“I think she thinks Dennis is responsible and that this is a message to her not to worry.”
“Couldn’t be from him—not unless he’s been embezzling.” Although that could explain a lot. Maybe Mr. Ian Gideon was hiding more than a new client.
“Dennis doesn’t seem the type,” Tawnia said. “I mean, he’s rather ordinary, if you know what I mean. I just don’t see him living an alternate life.”
“He obviously has some secrets. I told you that Tracy and Shannon think he’s Alex Trogan, that witness who disappeared from police custody, didn’t I? That’s a double life if I ever heard of one.”
“Did they show the picture of Alex to Sophie?”
“I don’t know, but Tracy says it would be hard for anyone to make an identification.”
“Like those pictures we have of our birth mom.”
I was silent for a long moment. Our mother had lived with my adoptive parents during her pregnancy, and they had treated her like a beloved younger sister. The few pictures they’d taken during her short stay hadn’t
been well-preserved, though Tawnia had since made several copies of the photos and moved them to an acid-free book. Our birth mother had been only sixteen when she’d died giving birth to not one but two babies. The doctor had fulfilled her wish to give Winter and Summer a child but had also felt it necessary to honor the contract with Tawnia’s adoptive parents in Texas. We’d grown up separately, but the connection between us had been strong, even then, and Tawnia had eventually found me. I’d lost Winter that same time, but I didn’t compare the exchange. It just was.
“Autumn? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” It was true. The food had restored me almost completely. I’d have to remember the protein thing if I read any more imprints.
As if I could stop.
I frowned at my thoughts until Tawnia said, “I’d better get to bed.”
“Wait. Do you see a police car out in front of Sophie’s?”
“There’s a car I don’t recognize parked down the street, but it’s not a police car.”
“Probably Shannon’s guys. I’m glad they’re not using a marked car. That’s way too obvious.”
Tawnia laughed. “You really have to turn off that TV and get out more. I mean, now that you’re mostly recovered. I doubt anyone is after Sophie. It’s Dennis who has a past.”
We didn’t know that for sure—Sophie could be anyone—but I didn’t want to bother my sister with those dark thoughts. “Hey, what about Moonflower?”
“Autumn.”
“Windsong, then.”
“With a last name like Winn? Windsong Winn?
“Why not? It could be Win Winn for short.”
“You must have been all day coming up with that one.”
“I don’t want something boring for my niece or nephew.”
“I promise it won’t be. Love you.” With that, my sister hung up.
Jake was still busy cleaning in the kitchen, and I debated for a full thirty seconds before dialing Shannon’s cell phone.