RetroCog (a Power Up! story) (4 page)

He grimaced, missing the simplicity of the pioneer mother and her infant son in the parking lot of the gym back in Bend. The minimalism of life before man and civilization encroached on the splendor of the mountains had been a beautiful thing.

The unique perfume of danger and intrigue saturated this case. His fascination with the missing painting bordered on obsessive, and he knew it. But now, having seen Lara, he knew the real thing didn’t hold a candle to Emilio Vala’s portrait.

A coincidence the inn’s manager just happened to be the spitting image of the woman in the portrait? Noah didn’t believe in coincidence. There was something going on here, something more he hadn’t yet seen. And what about that ghostly image layered over Lara? What the hell had he stumbled onto here? And why had Jack assigned him this case, considering the bevy of talent they had at home?

Nathan could touch an object and know about it and the people who’d touched it. Avery knew the future. Chloe heard truth. Aidan could ferret secrets out of a person’s mind. Why send Noah, a man who often lost himself in dreams of the past, on this wild-goose chase? Even after Noah had reported the painting stolen, Jack had insisted he remain on the case. Why? What was his bastard of a boss up to?

An hour later, after cleaning up and lugging his bag up to the room, Noah locked his door before descending the stairs. The noise of people laughing and talking grew as he studied the busy lobby and dining area. A good crowd enjoyed the heady aroma of coffee and sweets, and his stomach rumbled.

Wanting to eat as much as he wanted to find answers, he decided on the quickest way to accomplish both. Sliding through the mass of cheery patrons, he found Lara and Frank comparing notes as they studied the cash register.

“It’s Lara, right?”

The pair blinked at him.

Lara blushed and glanced down at some receipts, and Noah would have given a lot to know what she was thinking. Telepathy would have been more than welcome right then. He concentrated on keeping his inner shields taut when a transparent coil of dark hair slithered over her face. A closer study showed her hair held back in a ponytail, though a few strands had escaped that she’d tucked behind her ears—ears studded with familiar rose-shaped silver earrings.

“Hi Noah. Everything okay?”

He blinked, and the earrings vanished. He shored up his internal shields, praying they’d hold.

“Noah?”

“Yeah. I’m great, thanks.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, wishing he wasn’t so awkward around the living. Dead people ignored him but never made him feel unwelcome. The past wasn’t choosy about its participants. The present, however, could be brutal. “You think you could show me a good place to get something to eat?”

He sounded harsh, even to his own ears.

“Um, I guess.” She sounded hesitant, her eyes searching as she studied him with a curiosity he could all but feel.

Frank gave her a gentle nudge in Noah’s direction. “I’ll watch over everything here, Lara. Shelly has the evening coffee all taken care of. Why don’t you go grab some dinner. You’ve barely caught a break all day.” Frank ran an assessing gaze over Noah. “Take your time. I’ll bet a man as big as Noah has a huge appetite.”

The red on her cheeks was gratifying. This might be easier than he’d thought. Noah would find the information he needed to get the damn painting, then hightail it home. And maybe take a taste of Lara while he was at it. A gentle,
normal
, sexual taste. A small test, to prove to himself he could be happy with easy, consensual sex.

“I am a bit hungry.” She considered Noah. “Or I can give you directions, if you’d rather. Not everyone likes company, and you’ve been traveling today. You must be tired.”

To his surprise, the exhaustion he might have expected after being up for twenty-four hours didn’t register. “I’m good.”

She shrugged and drew his attention to her breasts. Nice, just as round and attractive as her fine ass. Noah had more ideas about exploring her body than he did about retrieving the painting, so he forced himself to focus on her face once more. Since she’d been rummaging behind the counter for her jacket, she hadn’t noticed his study.

Frank smiled. “Have fun, you two.”

Then he wiggled his eyebrows and leered at Noah without a seeming shred of remorse.

Lara shrugged on her thin coat. “Ignore him, and he’ll go away. Or so I keep telling myself. It’s been six months, and he’s still here.”

Noah guided her to the front door, his hand on the small of her back. Even covered by a shapeless nylon jacket to ward off the wind, she looked feminine. Not petite, not someone he’d break if he bent her over and gave her a firm smack on the ass, but a woman built to suit a man’s needs. He could too easily imagine her dressed in garters and stockings and nothing else. Her panties absent, just those pearl-white cheeks shining back at him as he pushed himself inside her. Then he’d reach around to grab her tits and pinch her nipples hard. She’d cry out for more. With Lara, the rougher the better…

“Noah?”

He inwardly cringed, hoping he hadn’t said or done anything to draw attention to his raging erection.
Fuck, why is this happening now
? He’d spent years avoiding this side of himself. So why now? Why here? He could only thank his long coat for disguising his arousal. What the hell was it about this woman that he had constant sex on the brain? He wanted to blame it on the old brothel. But with the exception of Lara’s vanishing earrings, the ghosts of the past now remained absent.

Quickly joining her outside, he did his best to ignore the sway of her hips. “Sorry. My mind wandered.”

To his relief, she said nothing about his distraction. “You like spicy food?”

“Sure.”

“Great. Then you’ll like this place.”

They walked in companionable silence to a cheerful café down the street. Painted in bright colors against an adobe backdrop and brick floor, the small restaurant had plenty of customers when they entered, as well as a smell that made him salivate. Mexican food—his favorite. His stomach chose that minute to growl.

Lara smiled. “Guess you’re hungry.”

As they took off their jackets and sat, she studied him, and he wondered what she saw. He was about to ask her…something…when the waitress arrived with chips, salsa, and water. She handed them menus and left.

“The enchiladas are my favorite.” Lara closed her menu and poured herself some salsa into a small bowl. As she munched on chips, she started in with the questions. “So you’re from Oregon?”

He’d been prepared. “I live there now. Pretty area. My parents live out East, but I got tired of all the traffic and hustle.”

“I’ve always lived in Washington, the state, not DC. I moved out here on a whim not long ago and found the inn.”

I
, not
we
. She had to be single. She didn’t wear a ring. And no way some dumb-ass boyfriend would leave a woman who looked like Lara alone at night to go out with male guests.

He grabbed a chip. “The Lady Fine Inn has a lot of character. Great history to the place.” Whores and cowboys galore.

She nodded. They ordered their food and continued with conversation that, to Noah’s surprise, felt easy. Nothing as mundane as the weather, their talk veered from the difference in the coasts to exercise and books, what they both liked to indulge in during their spare time.

“So why this place, Lara? What brought you to Brownville?”

Lara sipped her water. “History. Ever since Finnegan Fury became a legend, they’ve seen a lot of interest in town. Once I heard the love story between the outlaw and the madam, I had to see where it happened myself. Then I found I couldn’t leave. The main street, I’m told, used to be really run-down. But the past few years have seen a real turnaround. There are art galleries and shops all over the place. The AP did that story, and tourists started pouring in. Now there’s great food, incredible art, a wonderful inn…” She smiled at him, and he smiled back.

“I like it.”

“So why are you here?” She dipped her chip and opened her mouth in expectation of food.

But as she did, he swore he heard a woman’s suggestive comment.
Open wider, sugar, he’s a lot bigger than that.

“What’s that?”

Her eyes widened before her gaze dropped like a stone to her plate, along with her chip. “I didn’t say anything.” She wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Weird.

The waitress arrived with their dinners. They ate in silence, intent on the savory dishes before them. Then Lara prodded him again.

“So, Noah, why are you in Brownville? You don’t seem like a typical art collector or tourist.”

“How do I seem?”

“I don’t know.” She lowered her fork and looked at him. “You’re obviously into some kind of physical fitness, but I get a sense of something else. Something academic, maybe.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re intense, quiet. And you listen.”

The woman was perceptive. He weighed the consequences of showing his hand too quickly. What the hell, he had nothing to lose but time. “I’m actually a personal trainer. That and a part-time investigator.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He reached into his wallet and dug out the picture of the portrait he’d looked at way too often for his peace of mind. “Don’t freak when I show you this.”

“Why would I?”

He opened the paper and pushed it across the table to her. Watching her reaction, he learned a good bit. She hadn’t seen the painting before. And she couldn’t stop looking at it. Like him, she was captivated by Vala’s work.

“Who
is
this?” Her eyes darkened with suspicion. “Is this a joke?”

“It’s a painting by Emilio Vala called
The Lady
. You can look him up.”

“I will.” She quieted as she studied it.

“So you have no idea who she might be?”

“Not a clue.”

“Well, if she’s not your twin, who do you think it could be?” The research Jack had done had turned up surprisingly nothing on the identity of the woman in the picture.

“I have no idea. Heck, she could be Lady Fine. I’ve never seen a picture of her, but now that I think about it, this picture matches a few descriptions of her I’ve read.”

“It matches you too.” He took a few bites of food, slowing down the conversation. To his surprise, his hunger for dinner had been replaced by his hunger for Lara. “When I saw you earlier, I couldn’t believe the similarities. You don’t recognize her as a relative, maybe?”

“Sorry. I don’t look like anyone in my immediate or distant family that I know of. And before you ask, I’m not adopted.” She traced the woman’s face with her finger. “Why do you want her?”

Such apt words. The realization bothered him. Noah wanted both the painting
and
Lara. Sex was all well and good. Noah liked women. He didn’t crave anyone in particular. Until Lara.
And this is why you need to get laid more often. See what a dry spell will do to you?

He took a long drink of water before answering. “The painting belongs to my client. It was stolen a year ago. My firm tracked it down, but when I went to pick it up, I learned it had been stolen again.”

“No kidding.”

He frowned. “No, I’m not kidding.”

“I wasn’t being literal. So you think it’s here in Brownville?”

“From what I’ve learned, yeah.”

“Well, I can tell you that no one’s said anything to me about it. The locals in town take care of each other, and though I’m still the new girl on the block, I’ve met all the shop owners. Trust me, Brownville thrives on gossip. If anyone had seen your painting, they would have come to tell me about it.” Lara traced the picture with a fingertip. “I’m stunned by how alike we look. It’s eerie.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”
I think she’s beautiful
. He glanced from the picture to Lara, taken with the hidden depths in her eyes. She held so many secrets, and he had an insane urge to plumb the answers to each one.

At the thought, he clenched his jaw tight and rubbed his eyes. He didn’t have the patience for this nonsense. He was here to do a job. Period. Lack of sleep must have finally caught up to him.