Authors: Cheryl Kaye Tardif
"An old friend," she said. "She didn't mention a name."
Ben stood near the window, glancing at the street below, making it impossible to judge his expression.
"Are you hungry?" she asked.
"Sure. Take out? Or do you want to go downstairs?"
"Let's order in. I know a good Japanese restaurant. You like sushi?"
"Good God, don't tell me you're into raw fish." His mouth turned down. "I'll have something cooked, with beef and noodles…or rice."
Natassia grinned. "Chicken?"
"No," he said, distracted. "Beef."
She hid a smile.
"I doubt Jasi will stay out late," he said. "We'll go over the case until she gets back."
"Who says she'll be back tonight?"
Ben eyed the door, a worried look on his face.
"Here." She handed him a data-com. "It's Monty Winkler's. I've got Sampson's. I'm making notes on what I find."
"I'll do the same then. We can compare notes later."
His data-com beeped.
"We've got a text message from Matthew," he said. "He finally got a hold of Deirdre Dailey. She's driving back from Niagara Falls tomorrow morning. She should be here in the afternoon."
"She's number one on my list of possible suspects."
"We also have a warrant for Winkler's legal documents. If that was a will Jasi saw in the briefcase, then we'll have a copy of it tomorrow."
"It'll be interesting to see who Winkler's beneficiaries are," Natassia said.
"I'm more interested in who killed him," Ben replied.
And why.
18
Saturday, April 21, 2012
~ Ottawa, ON
Jasi awoke to the sound of running water.
Natassia's already in the shower.
That meant she didn't have to hurry to get out of bed.
With a groan, she rolled over. She wasn't ready to wake up. Not yet. She still had to shake away the night's grip on her consciousness. She'd had the strangest dreams and her head felt foggy.
Maybe I'm coming down with the flu.
She stretched her arms before opening her eyes. The first thing she saw was the ceiling of the hotel room. She shut her eyes again. At the same time, a door opened and she heard footsteps padding closer. She was about to ask Natassia to make coffee when she felt warm lips on hers.
Her eyes flared open. "What the―"
Zane stood over her, one hand leaning against the bed frame. Her gaze swept over him, taking in his tousled, wet hair and the towel that was slung low across his hips. A drop of water trickled down the side of his neck and rippled down the contours of his well defined chest. She had a sudden urge to lick it off.
"Good morning, love," he said with his usual Australian charm. "Rise and shine. Breakfast will be here in about fifteen minutes. I have to pack for New York. When I get back, we can continue this."
Flustered, she sat up. The blanket slid into her lap and she gasped. "I'm naked!"
"And beautiful. Maybe I should join you."
"No!"
She scrambled out of bed, tripping over the clothes scattered across the room. She found her bra draped over a lampshade. Her blouse and pants were on the floor near the bathroom. She eyed the bed uneasily and flung back the covers. Her panties lay crumpled at the foot of the bed.
"Oh, shit."
Zane chuckled. "Something wrong, love?"
She gawked at him. "We didn't…"
"Oh, yes we did." His grin widened. "And we can do it a third time if you want."
Oh, Jesus…I had sex with him. Twice.
As she quickly dressed, memories flooded over her. The wine at dinner. More wine in Zane's room. His seductive voice, easing her into conversation, relaxing her completely. Her carefree, intoxicated mind urging her to surrender to him.
"What time is it, Zane?"
"Almost six-thirty."
"Damn!" She fastened the last button on her blouse and tugged on the jacket, mismatching the buttons in her haste to get dressed.
"What's the rush, Jasmine? Why don't we―"
"I have to get back to my room. I'm here on a case. Business, not pleasure." She let out a moan. "Oh, God. This didn't happen, Zane."
He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her. "But it did. We always were good together. You know that." He cupped her face between his hands and leaned close. "We can be good together again."
"No." She pulled away, her heart hammering. "I didn't want this. I'm over you, Zane Underhill."
He smiled confidently. With one quick tug, he whipped the towel from around his waist. "I'm not over you, Jasmine McLellan. I think that's rather obvious, don't you?"
She strode to the door, snatched up her purse and yanked the door open. "This was a mistake." She turned to face him, doing her best to ignore his perfect, golden Adonis body. "One I won't make it again."
Zane cocked his head. In a cool voice, he said, "You still want me, Jasmine. We're not done. Not by a long shot."
She stormed from the room and slammed the door behind her. Her breathing didn't slow until she was alone in the elevator heading for her floor.
"Jesus!" she muttered. "How stupid can you be?"
She'd be useless for about twenty-four hours. No psychic abilities. Sex always put them on hold. She'd have to face Ben, and he'd know immediately.
And he won't be happy.
Ben had been there after Zane had left her. He'd picked up the pieces of her shattered heart and helped her see that Zane was just not good enough for her. He'd told her numerous times that Zane Underhill was not the kind of guy to stick around.
Ben had been right. Yet, he'd never said, "Told you so."
Jasi pursed her lips and ran her fingers through her hair.
You should've learned the first time around, stupid.
She stepped from the elevator and brushed her sweaty hands against her thighs. If she was lucky, Natassia would still be sleeping and she'd be able to slip into their room, unnoticed.
But Lady Luck wasn't on her side today.
When she entered the hotel room, Natassia and Ben were waiting for her. They didn't look too happy.
"What's up?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
"We've been waiting for you," Ben said.
Natassia rolled her eyes. "I told him not to worry about you."
"Thank you," Jasi said. "Ben, I'm a big girl now."
"Who's here on a case," he added.
"Sorry. I stayed out a bit longer than I planned."
"A bit? You were gone all night."
She glanced from Natassia to Ben. "You haven't waited up for me all night, have you, Dad? I didn't think I needed to report to you where I'd be and for how long."
Ben sighed. "What you do on your own time is your business. You know that."
"Listen…" She sighed. "I'm sorry. I know you worry about me, Ben. But you don't have to. I'm a big girl now and I can take care of myself."
He watched her, his eyes narrowing. "So who were you out with?"
Jasi hesitated. If she told Ben the truth, she'd have to endure another lecture about why Zane wasn't the right guy for her. And she just couldn't take that right now.
"Yeah," Natassia said, grinning. "Tell us. Who's this mystery man?"
"Who said it was a man?" she quipped.
Ben stood, hands on hips, and cocked his head, waiting.
"Just an old friend, Ben. Nothing you have to worry about. I won't be seeing him again."
Ben gave her a hard look. His mouth curved into a frown. "Don't let this guy affect your work."
"I won't." She turned away, knowing that he suspected she'd done more than sleep. "Anything new on the case?"
"Prints came back from the Sampson residence," Natassia said, coming to her rescue. "No other prints except ours, Sampson's and his wife's."
Jasi flopped into a chair. She was frustrated by more than Zane Underhill. They needed a break, a clue, something to point them in the right direction.
"The evidence team did an X-Disc sweep," Ben said, sitting down across from her. "We're waiting on those results. We do know that there were no unusual footprints and no other obvious trace."
"So if someone went into Sampson's home," Jasi said, "they knew how to get in and out without leaving any evidence behind."
"If that's the case, our perp could be familiar with police procedure and evidence collection," Ben said.
Jasi leaned forward. "Any word on the blue binder?"
"It's still missing."
"Doesn't that seem odd to you?"
Ben nodded. "Makes me think there was something in it that someone wanted very badly."
"Badly enough to kill for," Jasi added, scanning a text message from Marilyn Winkler.
"Deirdre's back from Niagara Falls," she said. "She's at Winkler Manor right now. Marilyn suggests we come over and talk to her now."
Ben gave her a disapproving look. "Are you going like that?"
"No," she snapped. "I'll be ready in half an hour."
"Me too," Natassia said quickly. "I need to freshen up. We'll meet you in the lobby in thirty minutes."
"Fine," Ben said, heading out the door. "Half an hour."
Jasi grabbed some clothes and headed for the bathroom.
"You okay?" Natassia asked through the door.
"Yeah."
"You sure."
"I'm positive," Jasi said, a little too sharply.
Am I okay?
Between Ben's inquisition and Natassia's concern, she felt like she'd dodged a bullet.
As she showered, she thought about her night with Zane. It was all coming back to her now, the warmth of his hands on her body, his mouth on hers.
How could I be so stupid?
She closed her eyes and let the water pound down on her head and body, washing away every physical trace of Zane. But it wasn't the physical she was so worried about.
She'd learned years ago that there was a heavy price to pay when she had sex. It drained her of every ounce of psychic energy and left her unable to do her job. Even if she walked into a still smoldering fire, she wouldn't be able to read it for about twenty-four hours. No matter how hard she tried.
"Damn you, Zane."
But it wasn't really
his
fault. He had no idea what he'd done. He didn't know what she was, what she could do. She'd never told him.
"You're an annoying snag, Zane Underhill. An obstacle I have to avoid at all cost."
She didn't need any more complications in her life. She'd have to learn to say 'no' to him. She could do that. She was a self-reliant woman now, not some sniveling girl who needed a man in her life to fulfill her.
As she stepped from the shower and pulled on a plush hotel robe, she glared at her reflection in the mirror.
"Just say
no
. How hard can that be?"
19
I covertly studied the CFBI agents as they gathered in
the hotel lobby.
"They have no idea who they're messing with," I said beneath my breath.
My eyes followed Agent Jasmine McLellan as she approached the other two. She was a gorgeous woman. Sexy and smart. Too damned smart for her own good.
How much does she know?
The media was dutifully following Winkler's murder and the mystery surrounding Porter Sampson's disappearance and memory loss. But even those unscrupulous reporters had no idea what was really going on. My plan was in motion. Any deviation from the plan, like Winkler, would be taken care of. Permanently.