Nicole Peeler - [Jane True 01] (9 page)

He grinned and threw back his head to let loose a funny barking laugh
that was
not
what I expected. He was so smooth I would have imagined his
laugh to be more “smoky chuckle” than “tickled coyote.” I smiled back at him,
finally. The laugh made him less corporate bloodsucker and more nerdy chic.

“Right,” he said. “Let’s start over. A glamour is a little technique
that we all use. It’s kind of like a Jedi mind trick. Basically, we nudge
people’s perception a bit, so they see or hear what we want them to.”

“So, when you told Grizzie that she had heard of you, she believed you.”

“Exactly. All we have to do is back up the suggestion, and the human
does the rest. It’s the nature of the human mind to fill in gaps in its
perception. If it sees something that doesn’t make sense or learns something
that can’t actually be true, instead of doubting what it’s seen or heard, it
will fill in a story to make everything reasonable.”

“So, can you guys glamour one another?” I asked, intrigued.

He paused, considering his response. “In rare circumstances, yes.
Normally we can easily feel a glamour. But sometimes we don’t.” He gave me a
wily little grin. “We like to think of ourselves as far superior to humans, but
there are times when even our highly evolved brains want to fill in gaps, as
well.”

I mulled over Ryu’s words, giving my bottom lip a little chew as I
concentrated. He didn’t interrupt me, just waited patiently, which I
appreciated.

“So, what do you need from me?” I asked, finally.

“Oh, just some information. We know you didn’t have anything to do with
Jakes’s murder, but I need to ask you about the circumstances surrounding your
finding the body. Also, I was thinking that since you’re a native you can tell
me what the humans are doing about the murder. Like, what they think happened
and what information they have. Finally, I want to hear about the time Jakes
spent living here. What he was doing, that sort of thing. Or if anything
strange happened in that time. Were there other unfamiliar people or beings
around, besides Peter?”

“Oh, okay,” I said, figuring he would want to get out of Rockabill as
soon as possible. So, once again, I ignored my poor, repressed libido—which was
currently clamoring for me to lure Ryu behind the counter and knock him out
with an unabridged dictionary in order to make him mine—and went ahead and started
in on what he wanted to know. “Well, as for finding the body, there isn’t
really much—”

Ryu held up his hands, interrupting me. He tried to look professional,
but there was a quirk to his lips suggesting things that could only be filed,
in a professional sense, under sexual harassment. “Do you mind if we do this
later? I’m not at my best during the daytime, and I’m tired from the drive.
I’ve rented one of those little cottages, by where Peter stayed, for a few
days. I’d like to get settled and clean up before we get to work.”

I couldn’t really imagine him getting any cleaner, nor did I really want
to contemplate how much better his “best” was. I shrugged my assent, hoping
that whatever kind of supernatural being he was, he couldn’t sense my libido planning
things that might have made even Grizelda blush.

Unfortunately, Ryu gave me a smile that told me (a) he knew exactly what
I was thinking and (b) he would see whatever my libido ponied up and raise it,
fivefold.

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six tonight. We can get something to eat and
chat over dinner.”

“Um, okay,” I said, externally quite calm.

Shit, shit, shit,
was my internal line of thought.
What
the fuck am I going to wear?

“Wait.” I had just remembered something. “You don’t know where I live.”

“Sure I do,” he said, slyly.

I thought about this for a minute. “How do you know so much about me?”

“I’ve been briefed on the essentials by Nell.”

“Um, okay,” I murmured, suddenly terrified he didn’t know
everything
,
and that our dinner would turn into a hasty phone conversation once he knew my
real story.

He smiled at me and took my hand. His was very warm and very strong. “It
really is a pleasure to meet you, Jane. I look forward to tonight.”

His eyes are almost golden
, I thought. “It’s, um, nice to meet
you, too,” I managed to respond.

He let go of my hand after a moment and looked toward the back of the
store. “Grizzie? You can come back.”

Grizzie emerged from the stockroom, still smiling happily away.

“I’m leaving now. It was very nice to meet you. Don’t tell Tracy I came
in. Let me surprise her.”

“Oh, that’s a fantastic idea,” Grizzie cooed. “It was great meeting you,
too.”

Ryu gave me a parting wink, and then he was out the door and back in his
car. Grizzie and I watched in silence as he sped off down the road.

“He’s as gorgeous as you said he was,” she purred.

“Er, yes. He is, isn’t he?” I couldn’t help but feel guilty about lying
to Grizzie like this, but I didn’t see any other option. How could I begin to
explain the truth of what had just happened?

“Are you seeing him tonight?” she said, turning toward me with a
calculating look on her face.

“Yes, actually, I am. He’s taking me to dinner.” I could feel the blood
running to my cheeks and I was horrified.
Why am I blushing like a
schoolgirl? I’m sure it’s not a date. He’s investigating a murder,
fercrissakes!

Grizzie frowned, and looked me up and down. I dreaded what I knew was
coming next.

I blanched as she said, “What
are
you going to wear?”

CHAPTER SIX

I
opened
the doors of my closet with trepidation. I was hoping that Nell might have
secret aspirations of becoming a fairy godmother, and not just a garden gnome,
and had filled it with beautiful things. But all that greeted me was my usual
wardrobe of about six different Read It and Weep shirts, a few pairs of jeans
and trousers, and a smattering of old shirts.

Grizzie was right to be worried
. I sighed.
I
dress like I’m homeless. Or about seven years old.

I had only one option that was remotely dressy: a lovely red wrap dress
that I’d found in my parents’ closet. My father—always hoping that mother would
return—had never packed away her things. Their bedroom remained as she’d left
it. But he had allowed me to “borrow” her red dress, even though I suspected
that I’d never need to return it.

I took it out of my closet and held it in front of me while looking at
myself in the mirror. It was, like all wrap dresses, incredibly flattering.
Wedging the hanger underneath my chin, I pulled the dress tight around my
waist, wondering what shoes I could wear. I didn’t really have anything that
went with it, as I’d only worn it once…

To a high school dance with Jason.

I sat down, heavily, upon my bed, guilt racing through my brain.
What
the hell do you think you’re doing?
I interrogated myself, angrily.
First
of all, this isn’t a date; you’re being
investigated
. Second, even if it
was a date, you’ve lost your chance for dates. People who kill the love of
their life don’t get
dates
. Third, Ryu, whatever he is, will probably
just use his supernatural powers to run for the hills even faster than other
men have once he learns the truth about you. So don’t make an ass of yourself,
Jane, and dress up like you’re in some episode of
Sex and the City.
There’s
a reason they didn’t have “certifiably crazy” as a fifth character. There’s not
much scope for love interests.

I replaced the dress in the back of my closet and went to take a shower.
I scrubbed my body as if I could imbue myself with self-confidence through
exfoliation, and then pulled on my newest pair of jeans and, after a minute’s
debate, a long-sleeved navy T that had three little buttons decorating its
V-neck. It passed for fancy in my wardrobe, so it was a good compromise for the
dress. Instead of my usual canvas sneakers, I pulled on my black, low-heeled,
ankle-length boots. They were more serviceable than glamorous but at least they
were proper shoes. To make up for the boots, I wore a minimum of makeup. Part
of me recognized that my give-and-take game with my shame was ridiculous, but I
couldn’t help it.

I gave my damp hair one last brushing and hoped it would dry nicely… but
not too nicely.

Grizzie had forced me to leave work an hour early, presciently doubting
my ability to make myself presentable, so I’d come home to find my dad still
gone. He’d taken the car to Covelli’s to get it serviced, which I knew entailed
him and Joe sitting around for a few hours shooting the shit.

I had taken lasagna out of the freezer that morning and had put it in
the oven to bake for my dad’s supper when I’d gotten home. I had just gone
downstairs to check on it when I heard our rattling old car pull up our long
drive. Dad came in through the back door and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re home early,” he said, noticing my lack of work uniform. “And you
look very nice.”

“Yeah, Grizzie let me go at four,” I said, busying myself by fussing
with the lasagna, checking to see if it was cooked through. It needed about
another fifteen minutes so I put it back in the oven.

“Someone I know from college came into Read It and Weep, today. We’re
going to dinner. To catch up,” I finished, lamely.

“Oh, how nice,” my dad responded, slightly confused. I’d done a
part-time undergraduate English degree at the University of Maine in Machias,
which was about an hour and a half away. I’d commuted two days a week because I
couldn’t afford to live on campus. Not that I would have wanted to, anyway. For
about two weeks I’d been anonymous, until someone had made the connection and
the whispers and pointing had started. Of course, it was nowhere near as bad as
it had been in Rockabill for the years after my little “accident,” but it still
wasn’t pleasant. I felt labeled, and as such I never really tried to make any
friends. My professors had been great—despite the fact that my file had a
warning on it, something like “keep an eye on this one to make sure she doesn’t
show signs of going postal”—and there’d been a few girls with whom I didn’t
mind going for coffee or lunch. But I had to be careful not to get close enough
that they were comfortable asking about what had happened to me. I certainly
couldn’t tell them the truth, and I refused to lie, so I had to keep my
distance. Therefore I never made any
real
friends at the university—the
story of my life.

So, no wonder my dad was slightly taken aback.

“Well, I’m glad that you have plans this evening, and that you’re seeing
a friend from school. That’s really great,” he said, nodding his agreement with
himself. “You should go out more.”

I busied myself washing up a few stray glasses that had found their way
into the sink, unable to look at my dad. I couldn’t believe he didn’t think it
odd that I’d never talked about anyone from school, and yet I was claiming that
somebody had shown up in Rockabill, of all places? I wondered if I had some
sort of unconscious glamour power, but then I thought about my dad’s reaction
and what Ryu had said about human minds filling in gaps. I didn’t need a
glamour to make my dad want to see me happy.
I’ve made such a mess of things
,
I thought, angrily scrubbing at an already clean glass.

I realized what I was doing and forced myself to rinse and release the
glass back onto the draining board. I got myself together and had managed a
smile when I turned around to face my dad again. He was sitting at the kitchen
table, watching me quietly.

“Yes, well, you’re probably right,” I answered him. “I should go out
more.”

He knew better than to push the subject. “So, who’s your friend?”

“His name is Ryu,” I said.

“Oh, it’s a man,” my dad replied, almost gleefully. I blushed.

“Yes, a man. From school.”

“And his name is Ryu?”

“Yup, Ryu.”

“Like kanga-roo?”