Part 2 (1/2)
”I told you-”
”I know. You had a dream.” He sighed. ”Where does your aunt live?”
”What? You were there, weren't you? You didn't deny it.”
”Oh, yes, I certainly was there. But I'm asking you the question. Where does-did she live?”
For some reason, Maris had been foolish enough not to expect this type of interrogation. She frowned. ”Here. In your town. After all this time, I don't remember her exact address, or I would have driven straight there. An old white house, tiny, with a fence, and there used to be a small business sign out front, too.”
”Right. Well, it's a big sign now, purple with gold letters. I have another question.”
”Go ahead.”
”What made you ask for me? I need a real answer to that.”
Maris bent her head. She moved her fingers across the supple surface of her purse. She wanted to grab her keys from the front pocket, walk out the door, and not look back. But she couldn't run away. Not this time.
Clearing her throat, she met his eyes, the stunning blue that made her think of the sky. ”Because Alva told me to. She said you were the one.”
”In your dream.”
”No. After the dream. While I was driving. The dead do speak, you know.”
He didn't respond, but after a moment, he set the pen down on the desk as if dismissing the need for its use. The discussion clearly over, she gathered her purse against her chest, readying to rise from her seat. She was halfway up when he spoke again.
”Forensically, yes, they do speak. Outside of that, I have experienced some...unexplained incidents here in Alcina Cove. It's not called haunted Alcina Cove' for nothing, I suppose.” He snorted, more in self-derision than amus.e.m.e.nt.
Maris sat back down.
”And I'd like to believe you-”
”Except you don't,” Maris whispered.
”Except I don't,” he agreed.
”I thought...my aunt-well, that you would find out everything about tonight.”
Once more she met his gaze. Something moved in his eyes, a knowledge of darkness, fear. He blinked, banis.h.i.+ng the ghosts in his life back to where he kept them hidden. He picked up the pen again. Click.
”There's another problem with what you're saying. There's nothing to discover. It would appear Alva Mabry pa.s.sed from the most natural of causes-old age.”
With a twist deep in her abdomen, Maris stood. ”I don't understand.”
”The ME believes it to be the case. As I do. I don't like having my time wasted, Ms. Granger. Especially at this hour.”
”I'm not trying to waste your time. I'm trying to get answers.”
”There aren't any answers to get. I suggest you go to wherever you're staying for the night, and tomorrow I'll take you to the house. If the estrangement you spoke of really exists, you may need an address book in order to make funeral arrangements.”
”Fine. But I'd rather go now.”
”Now?”
”Right now.”
He beat a rolling rhythm across the desktop with his fingertips, the pen in his other hand keeping time in counterpoint. She had a sudden urge to take the pen from him and throw it across the room.
”All right.”
Maris's shoulders relaxed. ”Thank you.”
Dan Stauffer heaved himself up from the chair. He wasn't a big man. Less than six feet with a natural build. Not the sort of man who tended to muscular bulk, even if he worked at it. But not weak. Not for one moment. He moved as if the man inside of him, inside his head, was huge. He probably lived his life with the same att.i.tude, fearless but for the darkness he had known. She might wrestle the information of his experience out of him, but she doubted it. He'd never give her the time...or reveal that weakness.
Chapter 4.
Dan felt himself hunching over the steering wheel in a defensive position. He tried to settle down, sit back, but found he couldn't. The knuckles of his hand shone white beneath the skin in the streetlights' glow. In the pa.s.senger seat, Maris sat with her own hands folded in her lap.
”Detective.”
”Yeah?”
”Relax. I'm not the big bad wolf. I'm not scary.”
The h.e.l.l you aren't. He thought of another woman he had known, a woman with dreams who'd allowed an evil into her life, and into his, too.
”Take deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
Part of him wanted to lash out at her words, but the less primal portion of his brain recognized the sense in them. He breathed in, let the air out.
”Once more.”
He did so, loosening his grip on the wheel. With a release of the curve in his spine, he settled back against the seat, filling his lungs again.
”What are you afraid of? Psychic ability isn't a malevolent gift.”
His breath left him in an audible rush. ”I'm not afraid, least of all of you. It's been a very long day, starting at about five o'clock yesterday morning with less than two hours of sleep in between.”
”But that's not my fault.” She glanced at him. ”Is it?”
”I didn't say it was. I'm just explaining-”
”Okay.”
His molars ground together. ”I don't believe there's any such thing as clairvoyance either. Sorry.” G.o.d, when had he become such a bald-faced liar? When necessity had made him one, he supposed.
”Were you out celebrating something last night?”