Deadly Shadows (9 page)

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They finished washing the dishes in silence. They’d come back here to the house, after their sightseeing venture and cooked pasta with tossed veggies. “I hate washing dishes,” Jesslyn mumbled.

“Yes, but since we’ve already done it, we won’t have to worry about this later.”

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t have
worried
about it anyway.”

He chuckled.

Jesslyn looked out into the night, thinking of earlier when reality crashed in. Chief Garrison had arrived, rather upset that she’d been out all afternoon. The guilt slid back into place. But the break from everything had been nice while it had lasted, even if she felt like a

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shitty friend for enjoying herself, for not thinking more of Maddy. But if she did, if she allowed one moment of grief, it would swallow her. She knew that. Garrison had said nothing new about the case, but Chief had always been the closed-mouthed type.

Tonight,
The Dime
was still closed. She and Tim didn’t even talk about it, just knew it was the thing to do. Then again, until they found another chef, it was the only thing to do.

Another headache throbbed behind her eyes. Jesslyn hung the towel over the back of the kitchen chair and walked into the living room flopping down on the couch.

Aiden sat beside her. She was getting used to him being around and it had only been a week, not even really. What the hell did that say about her? Desperate? Dumb?

“You okay?” His arm slid along the back of the couch and his fingers flexed on her tightened neck muscles.

She tried to shrug him off. “Yeah. I guess so. I’m used to….” She trailed off as he settled his fingers on the back of her neck, massaging. A low hum slipped from between her lips.

She sighed. “Your fingers are hypnotic.”

He chuckled, thinking of all the things he could say on that one. Aiden resettled himself leaning back against the mound of pillows with his legs stretched out, propped on the low fat coffee table.

“Here. I’ll rub the tension out of your neck, maybe it’ll help.”

Jesslyn looked at him, her gaze running over him. “Yeah, and what am I supposed to rub in return?”

He only smiled.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Her eyes dropping to his mouth then back up to meet his gaze. “Your eyes are so blue. This close I can see dark midnight lines dance with blue as pale as glacier ice. Fascinating,” she whispered, closing the rest of the distance.

“You like my eyes?”

She grinned. “I’m a writer. I just notice things.”

Aiden pulled back and kissed the tip of her straight nose. Surprise, pain and passion melded in her eyes. He pulled her down so that her head rested on his chest, and started to massage her neck.

“Not to sound trite, but darling, not tonight. I have a headache.”

He caught the smile in her voice.

“Too bad,” he answered in a light, off-handed manner. “Don’t know what you’re missing.” He found a particularly tight spot and deeply kneaded it.

“So you say. Ahh. That feels sooooo good,” she drawled in her sexy little Texas twang.

A low chuckle escaped him. “That’s what women always say to me.”

She lifted her head, gave him a raised brow. “Before or after?”

Smiling wickedly, he pushed her head back around and asked, “Care to find out?”

Jesslyn, apparently, chose not to answer him. Aiden reached up and took the band off the bottom of her braid, running his fingers through her hair. It was as soft as he imagined it would be.

“You have a lot of hair.” Her autumn mass was lush and thick, and danced along her shoulder blades.

“Yeah, and it’s a pain in the ass. If I cut it, I wouldn’t have nearly as many headaches.”

He was busy thinking what a shame it’d be to cut all that glorious hair.

Pushing her back down, he answered, “You need to relax. You’re tense.”

“There’s a news flash.”

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“Remarks like that will not get your shoulders rubbed.”

Jesslyn asked in feigned fascination, “You do shoulders too?”

Aiden narrowed his eyes at her reflected ones, “Care to see what else?”

“Nope.”

“Are you always so testy?”

She merely shrugged. “And here I was beginning to think you were such a sharp individual. Have I been any other way?”

Soft flutes from a Celtic CD floated on the air. The silence between them stretched as he worked the tight muscles in her shoulders and neck.

“You know, I might like you after all.”

Frowning he said, “I thought you already liked me.”

“Haven’t decided yet.”

He tried to rub away her tension and worry. His hands moved to a spot in between her shoulder blades, where she obviously put all her worries.

“Do you ever relax?” he wondered, and felt the tension, hard as rocks by her backbone.

“Upon occasion.” she said.

“And those occasions would be?” Her hair tickled the backs of his hands.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Yeah, actually he would. Instead, he kept quiet. After a bit, he asked. “You have any other family?”

“A dad. He’s in Idaho overseeing a housing job on a military base. And a brother. He’s a lawyer back in Texas.”

“Mom?” He wanted to know more about her.

Her back shifted on a deep breath. “Mom passed away right before Christmas.”

“Damn, I’m sorry.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“Four brothers.”

“Four? Good Lord, your poor mom.”

His hands rubbed down her backbone and she shivered. “Yeah, well, Mom’s a retired pediatrician.”

“I bet you’re the oldest.”

He smiled. “Why?”

“It’s the only thing a CEO like you would be.”

She was right. “Yeah, and then there’s Ian, he’s incognito. Gavin and Brayden are twins.

Gavin’s the OB/GYN we tease went into the business to find a wife. Brayden is the brooding antiquities dealer and last is Quinlan who helps me out with the hotels the most.”

“Doing what?” she asked, her voice more relaxed.

“Well it’s a family business. My granddad got into real estate, Dad talked him into hotels. Later it was resorts. And Quin and I came up with the Luxurious line hotels. We cater to the high end client. Buy old castles, plantations, estates and turn them into basically high dollar B&B’s with every creature comfort money can buy.”

“Did you write the brochure too?”

Aiden laughed. “Not impressed.”

“I’m more impressed with your mom.”

He was too.

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“So what about your dad?”

“Dad, Jock, is retired from the hotel business. Especially after his heart attack.” She shifted slightly, tried to sit up, but Aiden pushed her back down. “Be still.”

“Your dad, he’s okay?” she asked, her words cautious.

Aiden frowned. “Dad? Yeah, he’s fine now. Gave us all a scare. Why?”

“Mom. Heart attack.” His hands paused at her surprising remark, then resumed working her tensed muscles. “Your dad was lucky,” she added.

Aiden had been scared to death when he’d heard of his father’s attack. On the long flight, he’d been fighting anger at the fresh knowledge of the useless loss of his unknown child, then arrived to find a sick father. His mother thought he took it all too hard. His dad had been fine, even if his child hadn’t. Looking back, it had been one of the more difficult times of his life.

And here was a woman who had lost both family and friend.

“I’m sorry about your mom. Damn, Jessie, where do you put it all?” He hadn’t meant to ask that.Silence descended but was broken when she sassed back, “My shoulders.”

He sensed, more than knew, she didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

Aiden continued to rub her shoulders and neck. Little by little, she eased. His hands gentled when he realized her breathing had evened out, and he thought she was asleep. Should he get up? She was half sprawled on top of him. Her hair was soft as silk in his fingers.

He should probably get up and let her sleep, but what if it woke her? She needed her rest.

Besides, he didn’t want to let her go just yet. He liked her right where she was.

He should get up and go.

On the back of the couch was a quilt. Reaching back, he grabbed the patchworked blanket. As easily as he could, he unfolded it and covered them both. He toed off his shoes, worried that the slight thud as they hit the floor would wake the woman asleep on top of him.

Aiden settled Jessie more comfortably with him and then stared at the wood vaulted ceiling. He didn’t know what pulled him and Jesslyn together, but he didn’t care either. The aching notes of a penny whistle played some Celtic song on the CD as he thought of what he would do tomorrow. Her scent surrounded him, that floral-citrus aroma Aiden assumed was her shampoo, the clean scent of soap, and something else. Inhaling deeply, he smiled. Sleep crept up on him even as he was planning to rearrange his schedule to include her.

Jesslyn vaguely remembered the feel of something being thrown over her, of being shifted, but the engulfing warmth, exhaustion and two over-the-counter migraine pills pulled her towards the blessed oblivion of sleep.

And in sleep she drifted….

“Mommy. Mommy,” an impatient little voice said.

She knew it was Hannah’s, she’d recognize her daughter’s voice anywhere. Jesslyn tried
to find the little girl, but it was useless. There was fog, so thick she cut it with her hand.

The silence deafened. Almost. She heard the faint lap of water, the small trickling as it
fell over stones. But she could make out nothing. The cold grey hand enveloped her. It
smothered. She trailed her fingers out in front of her as if through water, leaving slashes in the
fog that elusively joined back.

“Hannah? Where are you? Mommy can’t see you.” Try as she might, she couldn’t
make out a single thing. Jesslyn futilely tried again to push the swirling, smoked wall away, but
she couldn’t. It was like being in the middle of a cloud. A dark threatening storm cloud.

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A giggle. Then just a whisper behind her.

In some part of her mind, Jesslyn knew this dream was different than the others.

Something was wrong. The light was supposed to be sunny and crisp--spring air. The world
around her was heavy, dark, impenetrable.

“Hannah?” She caught the tremor in her own voice. She had to find her daughter, but
couldn’t see the little girl. Jesslyn could feel her, the sweet innocence of a child.

There was something else in the fog. Something threatening. She sensed it. The hair
tickled on her arms.

Danger.

“Hannah!”

“Mommy, be careful. He sees you.”

Jesslyn spun around in the fog, though it was useless, only causing the cursed mists to
swirl about her, like skeletal fingers toying with her, pulling at her hair.

“Hannah, where’s your father?” They were usually all together.

A soft sigh.

“Daddy couldn’t come. We weren’t supposed to come yet. Daddy says to say to you ‘it’s
about time’.”

What did that mean?

“Time for what?” If only she could see.

Another little giggle. “I asked that.”

A moment of silence. “For you to laugh,” came the answer in a child’s wise voice.

Then, thunder rumbled in the distance heralding a vicious storm. The air changed, the
charge crackling the breath she took, even as the fog began to lift.

“Be careful, Mommy.”

Goose bumps rose on her arms at her daughter’s warning.

“Hannah! Wait. Wait.” Jesslyn reached out towards the sound of her daughter’s voice,
but only grasped the tingling mists.

“Be strong. I have to go. He’s close. Don’t look at him. Don’t smile, Mommy. Don’t
smile.”“Who?” The storm, closer now, engulfed, drenching her.

The mists parted, rose quickly as though someone snatched a veil from her eyes. There
was a lake, churning, swirling. Waves battered at the shore. The wind howled around her,
picked at her long strands of hair, pushed her towards the edge of the troubled water.

Lightning flashed and thunder crackled, ripping the world around her apart.

She could hear voices crying on the wind. Moaning, pleading, but she couldn’t make out
the words. She looked down at the choppy water. It calmed to a mirror surface. Her reflection
stared back at her.

Jesslyn jerked. Her face rose out of the lake, dripping wet with water, running with
blood. A scream ripped from her throat. Echoed in the trembling air around her. On and on it
went.
“Shhhh. Jesslyn, come on. Wake up. It’s a dream, wake up.” A deep voice whispered in her ear. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”