Blue Twilight_[11] Page 9

  “So this has happened before, then?” Max asked. “When?”

  He peered at her, worry in his eyes. “I was speakin’ in generalizations, missy. I can’t think of a specific case. But you know, there’s not much hasn’t happened in a town as old as this one at one time or another.” He rang up the batteries with fingers that suddenly moved efficiently—and quickly. Before she knew what happened, the items were bagged and he was swiping her credit card.

  “Is there anyone else in charge around here? Besides Chief Fieldner, I mean?” Max asked.

  “I don’t know who would be.” He drummed his fingers, waiting for the credit machine to work.

  “Don’t you have a mayor? A town supervisor? Anything like that?”

  “No one but the prince.”

  “You have a prince?”

  He grinned. “It’s just a nickname.”

  The old woman stepped up behind Max with her arms full of bulbs. “Sam!” she snapped. “You mind picking up the pace a bit? I don’t have all day.”

  Max sent her a frown, but even as she did, she heard the credit-card machine whirring to life as it spat out her receipt. Sam shoved it across the counter with a pen, and Max signed it.

  “You have a nice day now. Good luck tracking down those girls.”

  “But you didn’t answer my—”

  “Honestly, some people.” The old woman shouldered Max out of the way to lay her piles of bulbs on the counter. “Now, one of these has a split bulb in it, Sam. I don’t expect to be paying full price for that.”

  “I’ll take care of it, Maddy.”

  Lou took Max’s arm about a half second before she bit the old lady’s head off. She shot him a look. He advised caution with his eyes and pulled gently, so she gave in and let him lead her out of the store.

  “Jesus,” Max said as soon as they were outside. “Are they all fucking vampires around here?”

  “Nope,” Lou said. “Still daylight.”

  “But what the hell? And who is this goddamn prince person, anyway? Was Gollum back there hallucinating or what?”

  “His name was Sam. And just be patient. We’ll find out.” He popped the trunk at the VW’s front end. She dropped the bag inside and got into the car. Jason said nothing, maybe afraid to get between them at that moment.

  “I’d have made him talk,” Max said.

  “And if that’s what you want to do, you can go right back in there and do it.”

  Lou sat there, maddening in his patience. A boy rode past on a red bicycle, a sack of newspapers over his shoulder. “Fine,” Max said at length. “I’ll bite. What’s the ‘but’?”

  “But,” Lou said, smiling because he had made her ask, “you’ll make enemies of everyone in this town if you do it your way. You’re an outsider. You get pushy and unpleasant, it’s gonna burn through the Endover grapevine like a brushfire. If you’re nice, on the other hand, people start wanting to help you out.”

  She pursed her lips. “I hate when you’re right.”

  “No you don’t,” he said. “You hate when you’re wrong. Which is why I usually don’t point it out.”

  “Hey!”

  He smiled at her. A real smile. She hadn’t been on the receiving end of one of those since their conversation the night before, and seeing one now made her melt. Hell, Lou could correct her all day, and she’d still want him. He could treat her dearest old friend like a murder suspect, and even then, she still wanted him. She had it bad.

  8

  Stormy waited until everyone had left, then walked around to the back of the motel. She followed a strip of blacktop, probably there to grant a garbage truck access to the large Dumpster out back. Beyond it, there was just the weed-and wildflower-strewn field. She walked to the window of Jason’s motel room. She’d flipped the lock during an idle moment when they’d all been gathered in his room earlier. No one had noticed a thing. Well, she had trouble believing Max hadn’t noticed. Max noticed everything, though she seemed pretty distracted lately. Still, if she had noticed, she hadn’t mentioned it. And Jay hadn’t noticed, or he would certainly have locked it back up.

  Stormy was convinced her old friend was hiding something, and she intended to find out what it was, so she slipped into the room through the window. No one was around to see. No one was around, period. This place was deader than a cemetery at midnight.

  A shiver raced up her spine, and she shook it off, slid the window back down and faced the bland room that looked just like her own. Shouldn’t take long to toss it. She was so tired, though. Listless—as if she’d been up all night or something. But she ignored the feeling and got on with her mission. She went first to the desk, checked the drawers, found a telephone directory and an out-of-date TV listing guide. Then she tried the dresser. Nothing. No clothes, socks, underwear. Apparently Jay hadn’t taken time to pack before charging down here to search for his sister. That, at least, made sense. The closet held a coat, ironing board, extra pillow. The bathroom had the usual motel-provided, eye-dropper-size shampoo, conditioner, bar of soap.

  There was just nothing.

  Dammit!

  She checked the pockets of the coat as a last resort, and then she stopped dead.

  There, in the pocket, she felt something. She pulled it out: a Polaroid photo, in which two young girls stared, wide-eyed with fear, at the camera. “Jesus,” she whispered.

  She flipped it over and read the words scrawled on the back. “Do as you’re told, or they both die.”

  Cold chills rippled down her spine. She ran a hand over the scrawled lines—and they hit her like a sledgehammer. Stormy staggered backward, one hand pressed to her head, eyes squeezed tight. Her legs hit something, and she fell to the floor. A man’s face hovered in her mind, behind her tightly closed eyelids—the face of a fallen angel. The same dark, haunting face she’d seen beside Jason’s when she’d gone off the road on the way to Maine.

  She hit the floor and her hand went limp. She dropped the photo and passed out cold.

  “Stormy? Honey? Come on, wake up, babe.”

  Stormy blinked her eyes open. Max was leaning over her, looking worried. Oh hell, they were back. The realization that she’d been caught red-handed in Jay’s room hit her like an electric shock, and she sat up fast—too fast. Dizziness washed over her brain, and she held her head, blinked a few times to let it pass. When it did, she tried to get her bearings and then frowned. “How the hell did I get into the bed?”

  “I don’t know,” Max said. “It’s where I found you.”

  “Where’s Jay? Is he back?” She swung her feet to the floor. “Let’s get the hell out of his room before he—”

  “Honey, we’re in our room.”

  Stormy went still, her eyes fixing on Max’s. “What?”

  “Look, you’re disoriented. You came in here to lie down while Lou and Jay and I went to grab some lunch and visit the local cop-shop. Remember?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “You must have fallen asleep. I got worried when I couldn’t wake you.”

  Stormy fixed her friend with an earnest stare. “I was in Jay’s room. I passed out in Jason’s motel room.”

  Max frowned.

  “I unhooked a window when we were there earlier. I didn’t really want to stay behind to rest, I wanted to poke around his room a little while you were gone. And I did.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. Jesus, Maxie, don’t look like that.”

  “I guess I just don’t follow. Why are you suspicious of Jason?”

  “You telling me you’re not?”

  “Of course not.” She frowned, shrugged. “Maybe he’s acting a little…off-kilter, but hell, given what he’s been through… Besides, he’s our friend, and he’s in trouble. That’s all that matters.”

  “Some detective you are. You’re right, he’s in trouble. So might we be.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “I found—”

  Nothing. You found nothing.

 
Stormy frowned at the deep, oddly familiar voice in her mind. “I found…something.” She pressed her hands to her head, squinted her eyes, but all she conjured up was a deep black hole. “I know I did.”

  “Well? What?”

  “I…I don’t remember.”

  “Honey, are you sure you didn’t just dream the whole thing?”

  “Of course I’m sure! I just—”

  That’s what it was. A dream, all just a dream.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Max sat on the bed beside her, reached up to stroke a hand through her hair. “Honey, are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “No you’re not. Look, we’ve been friends too long for this. Something’s going on, and I know it. When are you gonna come clean with me, Stormy? Don’t you trust me anymore?”

  Stormy lifted her head to stare right into Max’s green eyes. “You know me too well, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. As well as you know me. So what is it, Storm? What’s going on?”

  Stormy drew a deep breath, held it a moment, then nodded once. “Okay. It’s probably nothing, anyway. But…sometimes I get…pain.”

  “In your head?”

  “Yeah. And there…are these flashes.”

  Max’s brows came together. “Like, light? Colors? What?”

  “Images. Pictures, faces. Voices, sometimes. Stuff that doesn’t make any sense.” She sighed. “It all comes at once, and I can hardly…it’s just a jumbled mess. Most of the time.”

  “Is that what happened on the road, on the way to Maine?”

  Stormy nodded. “Yeah.”

  “And what did you see?”

  She shrugged, shook her head. “Jason. And another man, a man I don’t know. But…I do. It’s like when the word you want is on the tip of your tongue and you can’t quite make it come out, you know?”

  “I…guess so.”

  “It’s like a strobe effect, too many things, too fast to make any sense or even try. But I know there was something about Jay. And it happened again, when we first got here, when he hugged me. And that time I think I saw him being beaten, kicked. I think that’s how he got those bruises. Not from some accidental fall in the woods.”

  She chanced a look at Max’s eyes, and saw them wide and riveted.

  “Don’t. Don’t look at me like I’m insane.”

  “You’re not insane, Stormy. Maybe…do you think you might be psychic?”

  Stormy rolled her eyes, got to her feet, paced the room. “It could just as easily be imagination running amok. Delusion. Hallucination. I had a whopper of a head injury, right? So who’s to say something didn’t get knocked off-kilter?” She pressed her lips tight. “I think maybe I have to face the fact that there could be some brain damage after all, pal.”

  Max closed her eyes, shook her head firmly. “No. Look, you said you saw Jason in that first flash. On the way to the house. And when we got there, he’d left a message for us. He was in trouble, and you knew it. You picked up on it. It was precognitive.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “The hell I can’t.”

  Sighing, Stormy went back to the bed, put a hand on Max’s shoulder. “You want to believe it because it’s easier to deal with than the other option. I know you pretty well, too, don’t forget.”

  Again, Max shook her head. “I won’t believe it’s brain damage. Do you know how many people experience the onset of this kind of ability after a near-death experience or a coma?”

  “Yeah. And ten thousand times more people experience permanent brain damage instead.”

  Max narrowed her eyes on Stormy. Then she surged to her feet and stomped to the door. Stormy didn’t know what she was up to and hurried after her. She marched along the sidewalk to the room next door and pounded on the door.

  “Jesus, Maxie, don’t tell Lou about this. He’ll have me in the nearest hospital for a round of CAT scans—”

  “I’m not going to tell him.” She pounded again.

  The door was flung open, and Lou stood there with a towel anchored around his hips. Stormy had to fight a grin when she saw the look on Max’s face. She wondered if her friend had ever seen Lou Malone’s chest before. ’Cuz damn, it was quite the specimen. Apparently Max thought so, too, because her eyes were ravaging it.

  “What?” Lou asked.

  Max blinked, forcing her eyes to meet his, and said, “Uh—yeah, I…uh…” She caught herself, cleared her throat, seeming to have forgotten why she’d come over, but only briefly. “Tell Storm what you told me about Jason’s bruises.”

  Frowning, Lou gave a quick glance up and down the sidewalk, then gripped her arm and pulled her inside, jerking his head to tell Stormy to follow. She did, and he closed the door.

  “Jesus, Max, why not announce it to the world?”

  “Just tell her, Lou.” Her eyes were on his chest again.

  He frowned, snatched a plaid flannel bathrobe from where he’d flung it over his duffel bag and pulled it on. While he tied the sash, he said, “I thought you wanted me to put a lid on my suspicions of your boyfriend, Max?”

  “Just freaking tell her.”

  He sighed, his eyes probing Max’s before he turned to face Stormy. “I’ve seen a lot of accidents. And a lot of beatings. And I think Jason’s bruises came from the latter.”

  Stormy stopped watching Max, turned to watch him instead. “You think he was beaten?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Lou shrugged. “No. Not a hundred percent. But if I were a betting man, I’d put a lot of money on it.”

  Max managed to turn her attention back to Stormy. “See?”

  Lou looked at her with his brows raised. “What? You got a suspicious feeling about him too, Storm?”

  “Just an inkling.”

  Lou nodded, then shifted his gaze to Max. “You?”

  She pursed her lips, sighing. “Hell, I don’t know. I could argue with one of you, but if you both think something’s wrong, I guess I have to acknowledge the possibility. But hell, I don’t want to. I love Jay, and my natural instinct is to trust him. And besides, even if he did lie about how he got those bruises, that doesn’t mean he’s up to anything sinister.”

  “Bullshit,” Lou muttered.

  Stormy cleared her throat, deciding to change the subject before the two of them got too bristly with each other again. “What did you guys find out at the visitor center?” Stormy asked.

  “Haven’t been yet,” Lou said. “Max wanted to get back here to check on you first. You were sleeping so soundly she wanted to give you a little more time, so we agreed to unpack, catch a shower and meet Jason outside about twenty minutes from now.”

  He glanced at Max. “We still on for that?”

  “Yeah. I’m ready when you are.”

  “I’m coming with you this time.” Stormy added, “I just…I need to run a comb through my hair first.”

  “And eat the sandwich I brought you,” Max said. “Turkey with the works, and extra mayo. Just the way you like it.”

  “That’ll give me time to throw on some clothes,” Lou said.

  With a nod, Stormy left the room. She noticed, though, that Max didn’t.

  Max stood there, near the door, watching him.

  Lou looked at her, met her eyes. “What?”

  She shrugged, lowered her head.

  He moved closer, caught her chin and tipped it up so he could see her face. “What’s wrong?”

  She wanted to lean up and kiss him. She wanted it so much she barely restrained herself. But hell, he’d all but warned her he would be history if she kept pushing. She’d made up her mind to change tactics, but damn, it was tough. “You’re a liar, that’s what.”

  He looked at her as if she were speaking a foreign language. “I haven’t lied to you about anything, Max.”

  “No? You go around in those baggy suits of yours, playing the tired-out, worn-out, burned-out cop to the hilt. But undernea
th it, you’ve got…” She let her eyes slide lower, over his chest, his belly, even though he’d hidden them behind that stupid robe. She wanted to rip it off him. She wanted to touch him.

  She swallowed the impulse and almost choked on it. “You’ve been hiding behind an image that’s a big fat lie.”

  “Why? Because I don’t parade around naked?” He held up a hand. “Don’t.”

  She closed her eyes briefly. “You work out, huh?”

  “Have to. It’s necessity, not vanity. It was, anyway, and I can’t seem to break the habit just because I’ve retired. You can’t be mad at me for that, Max.”

  She let herself look at him again, couldn’t help licking her lips as she did. “Mad at you? For having a belly I could bounce a quarter off? No, I don’t think mad is the word I would use. You’re a beautiful man, Lou. Inside and out. I’m not mad, I’m…” The word horny crossed her mind, but she decided not to say it. She couldn’t hide the secret smile, though, that came when she thought of the look that would doubtless appear on his face if she were to say it. “Never mind,” she told him at last. “Get dressed. We’ll be ready to go in a few minutes. I’ll get Jay.”

  He nodded, and Max left the room.

  “This would have been preferable in the daylight,” Lou muttered as the four of them marched around the visitor center, aiming for the woods behind it. Max was walking beside him, Jason and Stormy behind them. They all had flashlights, and the moon was full. It could have been worse, Lou figured, but not by much.

  He was still puzzled over Max’s reaction to walking in and catching him half naked. He’d expected her to revert to shameless teasing and outrageous flirting. She hadn’t. Oh, she’d made it clear she liked what she saw—and he was human enough to feel good about that. Hell, every man had an ego. She’d given his a boost and then some. But no flirting. No “accidental” touching. No sexual remarks. Maybe she really was going to knock it off. And that was a good thing. That was what he wanted.

  Which didn’t explain the slightly disappointed feeling that had hit him when she’d left. Almost as if he missed it.

  And he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d dropped her constant flirting because he’d asked her to, or because she’d found a more interesting and appreciative target. He hadn’t missed her tenderness toward Jason Beck. The hugs, the touches—she touched the guy a lot. And if anyone else were acting the way Jason had been, Max would have been questioning his motives in less than a minute. With Jason, she defended him instead.