Touching the Past (13 page)

“He—”

“Detective Herrera!”

Mallory shifted her gaze toward the African-American woman almost running in their direction. She was smartly dressed in a blue skirted suit that accentuated her trim shape. The high thin heels she wore added enough inches to put her just above five feet. She looked like she’d been crying, though a smile filled her face.

“Detective Herrera,” she cried again, grabbing his hand and pressing it between both of hers. “You brought my baby back to me.” Her voice broke. “My Bethie’s going to be all right.”

Bethie. Beth Kennedy. This would be her mother.

The woman squeezed Zac’s hand. “The Lord is going to bless you for this. He is.” She looked down at Mallory. Tears were welling up in her eyes. “This man is a good man. A
good
man.”

Mallory looked up at Zac. A red tide of color had turned his brown face bronze. She smiled at his discomfort, proud of him. She was glad he was receiving credit for his work, though she knew that didn’t matter to him. “I know.”

Zac’s gaze met hers, warming, turning hot.

Mallory felt heat flooding her cheeks now. Her heart pounded, its beat filling her ears. She couldn’t look away.

Coming from what seemed like a long distance away, she heard Mrs. Kennedy still talking. “I have to go now. My Bethie, they’re keeping her another day and I want to—” Her voice broke. “But I had to tell you. Thank you. God bless you, Detective Herrera. God bless you.” She hurried away without waiting for a response, her heels clacking against the tiles.

Wrenching her gaze away from Zac, Mallory stared at her hands twisting in her lap. The chair began to move again. “You…you have a fan.”

“More than one, I hope.”

There was something in Zac’s voice—its deeper timbre maybe—that sent a shiver of excitement down Mallory’s spine. The touch of his hand on her arm as he helped her into his car left her feeling as if a thousand fireworks were going off inside her.

“You didn’t answer my question.” She kept her gaze fixed in front of her as Zac slid behind the steering wheel. His presence seemed to fill the car.

He slipped the key into the ignition, but instead of turning it, he looked at her. “Are you sure you want to hear this now? Are you up to it?”

Mallory bit her lip and looked at her hands. She didn’t want to know. She wanted to put it behind her and forget about it. But if she didn’t hear the answer, she would always wonder. She nodded her head. “Yeah. Tell me.”

He reached over and laid his hand on hers. It was strong and warm against her cool skin. “Herkel’s afraid of dying.”

Mallory shot Zac a quick look. “Is he—”

“Sick? Not physically, but he seems to have a pathological fear of death. From what he’s said, it’s something he’s always suffered from. Both of his parents died fairly young.”

Mallory felt an unwilling sympathy for the man. She understood how painful it was to lose parents. “Poor man.”

“You’re a better person than I am.” Zac went on before Mallory could protest. “Apparently his mother made him promise her on her deathbed that he’d live forever.”

“What?” Startled, Mallory straightened and turned to look at Zac. “She did what?”

“Well, we can’t be sure what she actually said, but Herkel took it as her wanting him to live forever. He’s just unbalanced enough that he took that as his purpose in life.”

“But what has living forever got to do with me? And the others?”

“Apparently Herkel and his mother shared an interest in the occult. After her death, he really dove into it. He came up with the theory that if he took the blood of people destined to live long lives, he could add their years to his.”

“That’s—” Mallory shook her head. “That’s—”

“Yeah. Crazy. But it made sense to Herkel.”

“How did he decide who was going to live a long life? The tarot cards?”

Zac squeezed her hand, smiling at her. “Trying for my job? That’s exactly how he was choosing his victims. Here and in other states.”

“Other—You mean he—the other people were—”

“From Indiana. Ohio. He’d even kidnapped people from Canada.”

“But why go so far away?” Mallory didn’t understand. “Wasn’t it dangerous? He had to bring them here from there. Wasn’t he afraid they’d get away? Tell what had happened?”

“It was smart, in a way.” Zac looked past Mallory, as if he was seeing Herkel commit his kidnappings. “He was sane enough in the beginning to worry about things like that. Following the psychic fair circuit, he was able to find his victims in other states. He figured no one would connect him to them. He had his fifth wheel, so he was able to keep them drugged and bring them back here safely. It was only recently, when he couldn’t control his—need, I guess you’d call it—that he started hunting closer to home.”

Mallory shivered. Hunting.

Zac caught the involuntary movement. His hand tightened on hers. “Hey. It’s okay. We’ve got him. He won’t bother you, or anyone else, again. He’s going to be put away for a long time.” His tone and expression lightened. “And there’s a plus to this, you know.”

Mallory appreciated his attempt to change the mood. “What?” She made herself smile.

“Thanks to Herkel and his cards, we know you’re going to live a long and happy life.”

Mallory wrinkled her forehead. “But, you know, the tarot cards couldn’t have told him that. Maybe he
was
psychic.” Remembering the touch of the man’s hand against hers, she shook her head. “No, he wasn’t. I’d have known if he was.”

“I believe you.” An odd expression crossed Zac’s face. “Still, it’s…strange that all the people he picked had the right blood type to be compatible with his. But that’s enough about Herkel.” He tugged Mallory closer to him. “Maybe it’s too soon, but I want to talk about us.”

“Us?” Mallory repeated, unable to keep her voice from sounding breathless. “There’s an
us
?”

Zac toyed with her fingers. “Well, maybe not yet. But there could be.” Zac turned Mallory’s hand over, rubbing his thumbs across her palm. “I’d like there to be.”

Before she could say anything, he met her eyes, his expression sober. “I realize that it’s my fault that Herkel…took you. But I—”

Mallory put her free hand over his mouth. “Don’t. It’s not your fault. You
saved
me.”

It was as if a wall came down between them. Zac pulled back, his expression closed. “I’m not a hero, Mallory. I don’t want your gratitude.” There was an odd note of disgust and disappointment in his voice.

“You
are
a hero.” Anger—and fear that he was slipping away from her—made Mallory’s voice sharp. Zac raised an eyebrow. “Ask Beth Kennedy’s mother. Ask Beth. Or the Yeuns.” Her words tumbled out faster as she saw he was going to interrupt. “But that’s not what I care about. It’s you. Zac. Not the detective who saved me. Or the boy I used to tutor. And I don’t know if it’s me you want or Mallory the psychic, but I really want to get to know you better.
You
,” she repeated desperately, running out of breath.

Her shoulders slumped. She couldn’t meet his eyes in the silence that followed. She’d laid it out for him and he—what? What was he going to do?

“You think I’m just interested in you because of what you can do?”

Mallory looked up. Zac sounded…
angry
. Her hands clenched in her lap. “I didn’t—”

He didn’t let her finish. “Because that’s not true. At all.” He took her hands in his, squeezing them gently. “Yes, you can touch the past. That’s…that’s awesome. But it’s only part of the package.” He looked into her face, his eyes glowing warmly. “I called you because I needed help, but that was just an excuse.” A self-mocking smile twisted his mouth. “I’d have found another reason to see you again.” He was serious now. “I’ve always felt something for you, Mallory. And seeing you now...” He dropped his gaze as his grip tightened. “It’s just made me realize how much I—I—” He looked up. Took a breath. “I think we could have something. If you’re willing to take a chance.”

She was. Zac had said the words she’d needed—wanted—to hear. It wasn’t a choice. Mallory
or
Mallory the woman who could touch the past. Her ability was part of her. She was a whole. And Zac had seen that all along.

Zac must have seen the answer in her face. His own took on an expression of surprise and wonder that turned to pure heat as he leaned over to kiss her.

Mallory let herself respond to the warmth of his lips against hers. It was time to stop holding on to the past and reach for the future.

A word about the author...

Ilene Kaye loves reading, screwball comedies, cats, and too many other things to enumerate.

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this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.