Touch and Go Page 15

  Carrie drew closer to the door so she could see what Diego pulled out of his pocket. It was a thin gold chain with a diamond-encrusted pendant on the end of it.

  Immediately Ruby looked relieved. “I thought I’d lost this forever.”

  “Serves us right for having sex on Will’s beach.”

  “Kind of rude of us, actually.”

  “You mean, trying to convince him to sell his resort and then seducing your lowly personal assistant on his private property?”

  She looked at him sharply, but there was a glimmer of humor in her eyes. “I prefer that you refer to yourself as my sex slave, not my lowly personal assistant.”

  He grinned and ran his hand down her arm. “Yes, ma’am. Maybe I should be getting a raise.”

  “I think I gave you a raise a couple of minutes ago.”

  “Touché.”

  She smiled back at him, then grew serious. “Thought karma had come to smack me in the face when I couldn’t find this. Do you know how much this little birthday present from my father’s worth?”

  “At least a couple hundred bucks.”

  “Yeah. Funny. Geoffrey Smythe spending only a couple hundred dollars on a necklace for his daughter. Sure.”

  “Turn around.”

  She pivoted around and held up her hair as Diego fastened the necklace around her neck. Then she pressed her hand against the front of it. “Maybe we should have let Will find it. He could have sold it and paid off his bills.”

  “That wouldn’t have helped you out much.”

  “No. Good point.” She sighed. “Too bad. He’s a nice guy. Way too obsessed with his dead wife, though.”

  “And you would have swept in there and seduced him if you could?”

  “Would you quit if I had?” She pulled him closer.

  He didn’t look like he was joking anymore. “I’ll try to put aside my jealousies.”

  “Try harder.”

  “Come on…” He held his hand out to her. “You have a meeting in five minutes. Phone call with the Hawaii location manager.”

  They kissed again and left the office.

  Carrie turned around in Patrick’s arms and looked up at him. “What the hell?”

  “It was her necklace.”

  “So it seems. What happened to the cursed object that’s making Will’s resort so unpopular?”

  “I don’t think that’s it.”

  She sighed. “What is going on here?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I did.”

  “So it wasn’t Erzulie behind his problems and it’s not Ruby using magic to get Will to sign the papers.”

  “Two strikes.” He furrowed his brow. “Looks like this case will be going into the unsolved file. It happens sometimes. Doesn’t mean I like it, but it happens.”

  “I don’t understand.” Her head hurt. She should have been able to break this mystery wide open by now. “Maybe, like Will suggested, the resort just isn’t popular.”

  “The hot tubs don’t work.”

  “That wouldn’t make honeymooners want to rip each other’s hair out and file for divorce a day after they exchange vows.”

  “Could be a few isolated cases of cold feet after the fact, that’s all.” He stroked her hair off her forehead. She realized she hadn’t stepped away from him yet. It felt too good to be close to him. “Unfortunately, it looks as though Will Crane is not going to get his answer today.”

  “I feel horrible.”

  “Do you?” He slid his hands down her back to her waist. “Because you feel pretty damn good to me.”

  She smiled at him. “I think we need to go.”

  “I like it in here.”

  “No argument. As far as closets go, this may be my favorite one ever.”

  He kissed her, slow and deep, before they finally emerged from the closet. Patrick tried the door through which Diego and Ruby had left. It was locked from the outside, just like the other one.

  “We still have a problem,” he said. “Much as I don’t mind being locked in a room with you, I think we should probably find a way out.”

  “And you’re suggesting?”

  “I’m suggesting you use your telekinesis on that door.” He nodded in the direction they’d entered.

  She looked at it skeptically. “I don’t know.”

  “You can do it.”

  “You’d make an excellent cheerleader, but I’m not so sure.”

  He seemed amused. “You know what the difference between you and me is, Carrie?”

  She put a hand on her hip. “Enlighten me.”

  “You’re still not convinced you’re able to control your telekinesis.”

  “And you are?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “Maybe a little.” His grin widened. He sure seemed happier and much more easygoing compared to the Patrick she’d arrived with. She didn’t think she was being vain in thinking she had something to do with that. Despite the chaos her power brought, he liked her.

  No. He loved her.

  She still couldn’t believe it. This all felt like a dream she might wake up from at any moment.

  “So you believe in me,” she said.

  “Utterly and completely.”

  “And to think you’re considered smart.”

  “Who considers me smart?”

  “I thought that was the general consensus. Aren’t bosses supposed to be smarter than the average bear?”

  “A Yogi Bear reference. You’re a woman after my own heart. And I’m not the boss.”

  “You could be. You should be.”

  “You’re trying to change the subject.” He raised an eyebrow and nodded at the door. “Now unlock that door. You can do it.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “We’ll probably end up missing our flight when Ruby comes back here and calls security.”

  She cringed. While he’d spoken with good humor, she had no doubt that was exactly what would happen if they were still here when Ruby returned.

  “Okay.” She took a deep breath and faced the locked door. “I can do this.”

  “Of course you can. Just concentrate on what you want to do and make it happen.”

  “You make it sound so simple.”

  “It’s not simple. But it’s not impossible, either.”

  He placed a hand on the small of her back and she leaned against his warm touch. It gave her a bit of courage.

  This wasn’t a tropical storm. It wasn’t a do-or-die situation. It was simply something that needed to be done.

  She closed her eyes, focused all of her attention on the door in front of her. Instead of blocking out her power, she opened herself to it without fear.

  I can do this, she told herself. Patrick believes in me. I should be able to believe in myself.

  Once upon a time she’d believed in herself. She didn’t feel that way anymore. She was the newbie at PARA, and at twenty-nine years old she was starting from scratch.

  And now she was in love for the first time in years. Instead of being afraid of what that meant, she felt hopeful.

  She turned her thoughts away from Patrick only for a moment, thinking of the lock instead. Opening it. Getting the hell out of this office so she could go back to the resort and make love to Patrick again before they had to catch their plane back home.

  Control is sometimes found through lettin’ go completely.

  Advice from a goddess. And Carrie knew it didn’t only have to do with her ability. She had to let go of her control in order to let herself fall for Patrick.

  She had let go. She’d fallen. She just wasn’t sure yet where she was going to land.

  Carrie heard a click and knew it was the door. She’d flexed the part of her mind that controlled her telekinesis. And it had done what she wanted it to. It wasn’t something separate from her. It was a part of her. And if it was a part of her, then she shouldn’t try to run away from it. She needed to embrace it. Suddenly everything made complete sens
e to her.

  She opened her eyes and Patrick stood before her.

  “See?” he said, his expression filled with pride. “I knew you could do it.”

  She smiled. “You’re right. I did it. And I think I could do it again.”

  “Will you practice when we get back home?”

  “Yes. I promise. It’ll be like I’m ten again and taking piano lessons. I’ll be playing a symphony before you know it.”

  “Good.” He kissed her quickly. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “Sounds like the best idea I’ve heard in fifteen minutes.”

  Taking her by the hand, he led her back through the banquet hall and out through the lobby of the Loa Loa.

  She was sorry they’d failed to figure out what was wrong at Violet Shores, but she couldn’t help but feel ridiculously happy.

  Then, out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw Erzulie standing at the edge of the path. She turned to look but no one was there. Still, a sliver of dread filled her.

  Maybe it was only her imagination.

  17

  AS THEY MADE THEIR way back to Violet Shores, Patrick kept waiting for the moment when Carrie would disappear and he realized he was only dreaming.

  He didn’t wake up. Which was reasonable enough proof that this all might in fact be real. Seemed too good to be true, actually. Everything was. From being able to touch Carrie, to make love to her, to her feeling the same way toward him.

  He was damn lucky. He knew it.

  However, he couldn’t help but feel that something was off. That everything he currently had was no more than sand ready to slip through his fingers the harder he tried to grasp it. Then again, he hadn’t been that much of an optimist lately. Perhaps it was time to turn that attitude around once and for all.

  “It’s too bad,” he said.

  “What is?”

  He squeezed her hand. “The theory about Ruby and how it turned out to be a wild-goose chase. I should have known that.”

  She looked at him. “How could you have possibly known something like that?”

  “My empathic ability. Back when I was at full strength, I would have been able to tell from a distance if she was a real suspect.”

  “From a distance?”

  “I didn’t have to touch people to get a sense of what they were feeling. If I concentrated I would have known if she had something to do with the curse.”

  “And now you can’t do that. Because of your healing charm.”

  “That’s right. It’s changed my abilities a lot.”

  “And that’s acceptable to you?”

  He sighed. “I don’t really have much of a choice in the matter, do I? Besides, the worst side effect was not being able to touch anyone. And now—” he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it “—that’s no longer an issue for me.”

  “You’re okay with just being able to touch me? Nobody else?”

  “Yes, I am. More than okay, actually.”

  She didn’t say anything to that. She looked thoughtful. And, unless he was reading something into her expression that wasn’t there, a little disturbed.

  “Patrick…” she began.

  He’d caught sight of Will up ahead. Their client’s eyes flickered when he noticed how close Patrick and Carrie were to each other. Patrick couldn’t help but be amused. Hell, just the other day he’d practically begged for rooms on separate floors, and now it must be obvious that he and Carrie were more than business partners. Patrick couldn’t remember holding hands with too many of his past partners.

  “Will,” Patrick said. “We need to talk to you.”

  Will nodded, his expression unreadable. “Sure.”

  “We just followed up a lead. Thought it was going to get us to the truth behind your problem. I’m sorry, but it didn’t.”

  The resort owner frowned. “You thought it was Ruby, didn’t you?”

  “How did you know that?” Carrie asked with surprise.

  “I thought it might be her, too, for a while. It’s not.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “I’m happy for you two,” Will said.

  Carrie and Patrick shared a glance.

  “What do you mean?” Carrie asked.

  “You may not have found the answer to my problem, but you’ve found each other. I tell you, this resort works magic on couples. Or at least it used to.” He smiled wistfully. “It’s so sad that this place was once filled with so much love and now it’s just the opposite. You two should get out of here as soon as you can before whatever you’re feeling for each other turns sour.”

  “I doubt that,” Patrick said firmly.

  “We’re going to finish packing and we’ll be leaving in the next hour or so,” Carrie said.

  “Thank you, both of you. You tried. That’s all I can ask for.” He nodded. “It’s made my decision easier, actually.”

  “Your decision?”

  Will pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number, then held it to his ear. After a moment, he said, “Ruby? It’s Will Crane. I’ve decided you’re right.” There was a short pause. “Come over now and I’ll sign your papers. I should have done this weeks ago.”

  He hung up, his jaw tight.

  Patrick felt a wash of sadness then. Defeat. He’d let Will down. He wasn’t the best agent for the job. He’d been the boss for so long but was no better than a newbie at field work.

  After another couple minutes talking to Will, who seemed completely at peace with his decision, Carrie led Patrick off to the side, out of hearing distance of Will. “What’s wrong?”

  “I didn’t do my job.”

  “You did the best you could.”

  “He’s selling the resort. The bad guys won.”

  “This isn’t a Western movie. And Ruby isn’t a bad guy, she’s just a businesswoman.”

  “Feels wrong to me.”

  “It does to me, too.”

  “This case?”

  “No.” Her expression was tense.

  “Then what?”

  She leveled her gaze with his. “Your healing charm.”

  He hissed out a breath. “I told you, Carrie, I don’t want to talk about that.”

  “You admitted to me on our way back here that you might have been able to tell whether Ruby was at fault if you’d been at full empathic strength.”

  “It’s possible.” He shook his head. “We’ll never know for sure.”

  “You’re sacrificing so much to keep that thing around your neck.”

  Momentarily, anger overcame his guilt. “If I didn’t have this around my neck I wouldn’t be able to walk.”

  “Bullshit.” She paced over to a worn sofa next to the stairwell. “You stopped going to physio. If you’d kept up, you would have walked again. You weren’t paralyzed. You were healing. It was just too slow for you.”

  Tension put him on edge. “Why are we talking about this?”

  “Because it’s important, and ignoring the topic won’t make it disappear completely.”

  “It’s possible I’d be walking. But with a cane. And that’s if I was damn lucky.”

  “You chose to take the easy way out for a difficult situation and you can’t even admit to yourself it was a mistake.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why are you doing this? I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “I’m not fighting. I’m stating facts.”

  “Just like your old career. Find the facts, state them in an orderly fashion, and you have your story and you can move on to the next one. It’s so easy for you.”

  “Don’t push this off on me.”

  “I’m not pushing anything off on anyone. The bottom line is that I am using this charm so I can walk and run and function exactly as I used to.”

  He didn’t know why she couldn’t just accept that. She’d said she loved him. Was that a lie? She refused to try to see his point of view here.

  “You’re living in a dreamworld, Patrick,” she said,
wringing her hands. “You’re not the same as you used to be. That was the whole reason Amanda wanted me to find out more about your situation. And I didn’t tell her the whole truth. I told her your ability had shifted. I don’t think she’d want to know that somebody she really respected was addicted to using a charm that had warped his entire personality into someone nobody wants to be around anymore.”

  He flinched. Whoever said that words didn’t hurt was wrong. “And here I thought you liked me.”

  Her expression softened. A fraction. “You know I more than like you.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it to me.”

  “Then you’re not listening hard enough.” She sighed in frustration. “Why do you have to be like this? You won’t budge on this at all?”

  “Not if what you’re asking me to do is get rid of my charm and go back to the way I was.”

  Something slid behind her cinnamon-colored eyes. It looked like pain. “I knew somebody once…I asked him to give up what he was addicted to. The thing that was destroying his life and alienating everyone who loved him. In the end he chose the booze over me.”

  His jaw tightened. “I’m not an alcoholic.”

  “Maybe not, but bottom line—he didn’t want to face reality. He was convinced that the bottom of a glass of Jack Daniel’s was much more pleasant than the cold hard facts about his life.”

  “Let me guess. You dumped his sorry ass?”

  She crossed her arms and looked away. “Actually, he ran his car off a bridge one icy day just before Christmas seven years ago. He was killed. I didn’t have the chance to dump him.”

  That statement hit him like a punch to the gut. “I’m sorry for your loss, Carrie. Really. But I’m not like him.”

  Her hard-edged gaze snapped back to his face. “No, you’re not. You’re smarter. You’re better. You’re…a hell of a lot older and wiser than a foolish twenty-three-year-old with a drinking problem and a death wish. And…”

  “And what?”

  “And…I don’t know.” Her eyes were glossy and she rubbed at them, her expression changing from uncertainty to anger. “I don’t cry, damn it.”

  Instead of feeling the swell of compassion that had taken hold at hearing about Carrie’s previous boyfriend, Patrick felt his anger toward her continue to spark inside him. “Don’t cry. Not over me.”