Touching the Past (8 page)

“It’s all right.” The words were a whisper. She could barely get her voice to work.

“It’s not all right. I forced you to do something you didn’t want to do. Something you had good reason not to. I want you to forget about it. Forget helping me and go back to your life.”

It would be simple to let the feel of his thumb’s light pressure against her skin and his voice’s soft, persuasive tone hypnotize her. Agree with whatever he said. But as his words penetrated, Mallory pulled back. “No.”

Zac’s hand dropped away. “But—”

“No, Zac.” Mallory straightened. “No. Ever since Evie, I’ve been afraid someone would find out what I could do. Would ask me to do it again. I’ve tried to cut myself off from that part of me. When you came to me, I was…” She laughed. “Mad. Scared.”

“And you were right—”

She didn’t let him finish. “No, I wasn’t. I don’t like reliving pain and suffering. I’m not some kind of masochist. But if it can help someone.” Help
you
, she didn’t say. “I’ll do it. I have to.”

She waited for him to say something. She
hadn’t
wanted to help him for the reasons she’d given. But she also
had
to help. Because she was her father’s daughter and service to others was ingrained in her. Because those missing people and their families needed her. Because it was the right thing to do. And because… Zac had asked. There was something between them. She didn’t know if it was a hangover from high school. Or something that had sprung into being when she saw him at her door again. But whatever it was, she couldn’t refuse him.

Zac heaved a sigh. “Okay. I dragged you into this. You might as well finish.” His gaze sharpened. He pulled her hands into his and squeezed. “But I want you to promise. Promise that if it gets too hard for you—too painful—that you’ll stop and tell me. I don’t want to lo—” He broke off, looking down at the floor, then back up again. His eyes didn’t quite meet hers. “Promise.”

What had he been going to say?
I don’t want to— Lose?
Was he afraid he might lose her?

The thought warmed her. Made her dizzy.

“Promise?” His grip on her hands was almost painful.

“Promise,” she breathed. “I promise.”

Something shifted between them, the air becoming heavy and charged. An electric thrill raced down Mallory’s spine. She was acutely aware of the feel of Zac’s hands against hers.

She looked into his eyes. They were dark and hot. Her breath caught. She felt as if she was melting beneath his heated regard.

He was going to kiss her again. She knew it. Mallory licked her lips in nervous anticipation. Zac’s gaze sharpened, following the movement of her tongue.

She’d pulled back earlier, frightened by the intensity of the kiss, the way it made her feel. She hadn’t expected to feel so totally overwhelmed. So out of control. That was the way Zac’s kiss made her feel. It was exciting, tempting. Frightening.

She still felt that way—felt afraid—but more than anything else at the moment, she wanted Zac to kiss her.

Trembling slightly, she parted her lips.

Zac drew an audible breath. His head moved toward her.

Mallory’s lashes swept down, then up. She wanted to see him. See what he was feeling.

Zac’s head stopped moving. An annoyed expression crossed his face.

Mallory pulled back. What was wrong?

“Sorry.” He pulled the pager off his belt. Incredulity filled his face. “I do
not
believe this.” He shook his head, starting to rise.

Mallory stood, too. His sudden change of attitude had thrown her off-balance. “What is it? Something wrong?”

Zac hesitated, then gave her a rueful grin. “I just got called in. Another hostage situation.”

“
What!
Anoth—” Stunned, Mallory blinked at him. “How—”

He cut her off, shrugging his shoulders. “It happens sometimes. You get back-to-back situations.” He took her hands, squeezing them gently. “Sorry.” His voice was soft and there was no mistaking the sincerity and disappointment in his eyes.

She squeezed back. “Me, too.”

At the door, he turned back, one foot in, the other out. “I almost forgot. The reason I came.” His manner was hurried. He didn’t give Mallory a chance to speak. “There’s a psychic fair in Saginaw. Starts Friday. Will you go with me? It’s the same crew Beth and the others went to.”

Mallory didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

Some of the anxiety on Zac’s face eased. He smiled. “Great. I’ll call you.” He turned toward the door.

“Zac.”

He looked back. It was obvious from his distracted expression that he was already thinking about the hostage situation.

Without giving herself time to think, Mallory quickly kissed him. “Be careful.”

Zac looked at her a moment, his face still, before a brilliant smile crossed it. “I will.”

Mallory couldn’t concentrate after he left. She stared at the computer screen for twenty minutes without seeing it, then shut it down in disgust. She turned on the local TV station just in time to catch the tail end of a breaking news alert. “—bring you more details as we receive them. We now return you to our regularly scheduled programming.”

She sank onto the sofa, kicking her legs up under her. She flipped between local channels, hoping for more information. Nothing.

What was going on? Where was Zac? Was he safe?

She prayed under her breath, a repetitious chant of “Please let him be all right. Please let him be all right,” as images she didn’t see danced across the screen in front of her.

She tried to tell herself she was being silly. That, of course, Zac would be all right. It was his job. He was good at it. And she’d never heard of a SWAT member being hurt in Midland.

But there’s always a first time,
an insidious voice in her head whispered.
And he was so tired. What if he—

Mallory bounded off the couch, stumbling and wincing at the pins-and-needles sensation running through her legs. She shut off the TV, limping out of the living room. She was going to drive herself crazy, sitting like that. Maybe a shower would help.

Standing beneath the pounding spray, Mallory felt some of her tension ease. The warmth felt good against her tight muscles and chilled skin. She hadn’t realized how cold she’d gotten.

How do police officers’ wives and husbands stand it?
She wondered, sliding the soap over her shoulder and down her arm.
Worrying about them every time they go out the door?

She shook her head. Stupid question. They stood it because they had to. Danger was part of Zac’s job. Part of every police officer, firefighter, and military person’s job. Their significant others dealt with it because danger came with the person they loved. She’d seen Ryuuko worry when her husband was on active duty, but her mother had never let fear dominate her life.

Mallory paused, her hand on the tap to turn it off. She wasn’t comparing what she felt for Zac to what her mother had felt for her father, was she? She couldn’t. It wasn’t the same thing at all. Her parents had—She didn’t— She and Zac were just— But maybe. Someday.

The phone rang, breaking into her confused thoughts. Grabbing the towel, she raced for it. She took a deep breath. “Yes?”

“Mallory?”

Zac’s voice. A frisson of joy set her pulses throbbing. She tried and failed to keep her tone matter-of-fact. “Zac. Are you all right?”

“Yeah. I’m at the station.” He sounded…uncertain? “It’s over. Everything turned out all right. I thought…I’d let you know?” The upward inflection made it sound as if he wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing. As if he hadn’t been sure she’d want to know.

Mallory held the receiver with both hands, cradling it to her face. Her grip tightened on it. “I’m glad you did. I was waiting.” She was almost as startled by the low, husky,
sexy
sound of her voice, as she was by the realization she
had
been waiting for him to call. She had no claim on him. There was no reason for him to call and tell her he was safe. But she’d been waiting—hoping—for it all the same.

There was a beat of silence before Zac’s voice came back through the line. “Then I’m glad I called.”

Now it was Mallory’s turn to be silent. A shiver slid down her spine. There was nothing special about them. They were just words. But something in the deeper pitch of them made them seem…intimate. Her toes curled in the carpet. “Me, too,” she whispered, hardly knowing what she was saying.

There was silence on Zac’s end. It went on.

Mallory choked back a giggle as the humor of it hit her. They were like two kids waiting for the other one to hang up first.

In the background she heard a banging sound. She took a breath, but before she could speak, Zac beat her to it. “All right.” His tone was brisk and impersonal. “I’ll talk to you later, then. Good night and—” His voice softened and lowered. “Thanks.”

“You’re—” It was too late. He’d hung up.

Mallory listened to the buzzing in the receiver a long time before she hung up.

Chapter 9

Zac looked around the Grande Ballroom of Saginaw’s Four Points Hotel. He hadn’t been sure what to expect of the psychic fair, but it wasn’t this. Tables had been set around the paneled room. Some held books. Others were covered with cards. Crystal rocks and statues filled other velvet-covered tables. Despite the heavy rain and high wind gusts outside, the fair seemed well-attended. There was a waiting line at every table, and more people wandered about the room.

Behind the tables, women in sweater ensembles and jewel-toned blouses and men in suits read tarot cards, charted horoscopes, and worked numerology patterns. Eyeing them, Zac wondered which ones Beth, Daniel, and Kim had visited. A check had confirmed all of the participants at this fair had been present at the earlier Midland one, but which ones his missing persons had visited was anyone’s guess. There was also the possibility that the vendors had nothing to do with the disappearances at all. Someone attending the fair could have taken them.

Zac punched his thigh. If he only knew what the connection between the three was, he might be able to narrow it down.

“Hey.” Mallory brushed his fist, her hand warm. “You okay?”

“Am
I
okay?” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re the one going into a room full of psychics.” He waved a hand. “And whatever, trying to look into their pasts to see a kidnapper, and you’re asking
me
if
I’m
okay?” He shook his head. “Are
you
okay?”

She gave him a half grin. “I’ll admit, I’d rather be doing almost anything else, but I can handle it.” She turned to look at the room, lifting her shoulders. “Really.”

It sounded as if she was trying to reassure herself as much as him, but Zac didn’t press it.

She was an incredible woman. She didn’t have to do this. After listening to her explain how using her ability affected her, he didn’t understand why she even was doing it. She should have thrown him out when he came to her. She should have told him to drop dead. But she hadn’t. Instead she was helping him.

I was waiting.

The memory of her voice when he’d called her that night made his blood run hot. He’d hesitated about doing it, the rational part of him arguing there was no reason to let her know the domestic dispute gone very bad had been resolved successfully. She’d see it on the news. She was probably asleep. He’d be waking her for nothing.

But the part of him that wanted to hear her voice again was speed dialing her number before he’d known he’d made a decision.

I was waiting.

Resolutely he pushed the memory of the words and their effect on him away as he looked at the woman beside him. This wasn’t the time or the place. He had a job to do. Three people to find and reunite with their worried families. But afterwards—

He cleared his throat. “How about you take that side of the room.” He nodded to the right. “I’ll take the other side, and we’ll meet in the middle.”

“Sounds good.”

She was already walking off when Zac said, “Mallory.”

She turned, pushing her hair back off her face. She didn’t say anything. She just looked at him, waiting.

“Watch yourself.”

She nodded, turned, and walked away.

Zac watched her slip into one of the lines. He hadn’t wanted to split up. It was Mallory who pointed out they’d cover more ground that way.

Zac still had misgivings. While it was unlikely anything would happen here, he still knew too little about the “why” behind the kidnappings. What had set the kidnapper off? Mallory could hit all the right buttons and never know it. He didn’t want her here, but she had the best chance of finding him another lead.

Taking another quick look at her, he moved to stand in line for a tarot card reader.

Three hours later, he was hoping to never hear the words “stress,” “worry,” or “confusion” again. Though he’d tried very hard not to give off any signals, each and every one of the psychics had given him the same spiel. He was stressed over a current project at work. He was worried about its outcome. He was confused about which path to take in a current relationship.

Of course it was all vague enough to fit anyone. Looking around at the tired, eager, hopeful faces of the people waiting their turn, Zac guessed his reading would apply to most of them. Hell, he could probably come up with something just as good or even better if he spent ten minutes with each customer. Maybe he should rent a table.

He took a sip of the weak free coffee and grimaced. He’d probably be better at the psychic gig than detective work. He’d dropped Beth, Daniel, and Kim’s names at every table, referring to them as friends who had suggested he come to the fair. Not a single suspicious response. Either these psychics were better at hiding their thoughts than he was, or the fair was another dead end.