Knock, knock... (10 page)

What people didn't realize was that energy didn't tell lies, whereas words could. But the energy behind lies was obvious – to her.

One woman was speaking about her coworker's new hairstyle. Shay could hear the disembodied words when she spoke. "I love it. It makes you look so much younger." Those were the words. Nicely delivered. Just the right tone of warm appreciation. Yet the energy, on which the words were delivered, was ragged, shaky, vibrating with something else. Jealousy, maybe even anger. The energy that moved from the first woman to the second was spiteful, and the sentiment was reflected in sickening gray to black energy waves.

The first woman hated the second. But the work environment demanded that they get along in a manner that was acceptable to all. But did any of this have anything to do with David's death? She searched the colors, the smoky clouds and the heavier and lighter energy to sort through recent layers then moved down to the older ones.

To sort through the nastiness to find truly authentic emotions, she had to look deeper.

Not an easy thing to do. She spun away from the multiple people working in the busy office and focused on David. His aura resonated with goodwill and a pleaser personality. A definite media type. But what was underneath it?

Shay moved around him and studied David from the different angles. He couldn't be this happy and friendly all the time. No one was. He stood up to get a file from the table across the room and she saw it.

There was a black circle, small and almost hidden under his good cheer. It wasn't at the heart chakra; it was centered on his third chakra. She studied it, a frown coming to her face. It could portend a health issue, but, it was almost too perfect. Too round.

She had no doubt the circle was a man-made.

Planted. It was a marker. Someone who understood energy work had planted it there.

Shit.
And once she understood that, her mind spun endlessly.
Why? Who? How?

"Shay?"

A pounding on her own office door broke her altered state of consciousness, snagging her attention away from the scene playing out before her.

Damn.
Rotten timing.

"Shay, are you in there? Your light is on but I can't get through on your phones." After a moment, Jordan's voice came again, higher and louder. "Shay, you're scaring me."

Time to return to her normal reality.

Shay closed her eyes and forcibly disconnected from the memory. Her consciousness slammed back to her office chair, with bile climbing the back of her throat.
Shit.
She hated coming back from a trip so suddenly. The hard landings always made her stomach revolt.

"I'm here," she croaked. She cleared her throat several times, and then managed to get up off her chair. She let the changing energy ripple through her, letting it settle and ground her.

Making her way slowly to the door, she struggled with fingers still not feeling quite normal, to unlock and open it. For Jordan's sake, she put on a sleepy smile and rubbed her eyes. "Sorry. I locked the door to have a nap."

"You scared me shitless. At least leave me a note." Jordan stormed into her office, turned around as if to satisfy herself that all was well, and then came to stand in front of Shay. Her gaze narrowed. "You need coffee."

Shay rubbed her eyes. "Thanks. I could really use a cup."

"So could I. This time, I'm going to lace it with something much stronger."

Shay had to smile. "Feel free. I'll take mine black, thanks." She watched Jordan walk over the side counter and set up a fresh pot of coffee. The whole time the young woman muttered under her breath.

But her energy only showed relief and concern. Caring. That made all the difference in the world. And because they were friends, and Jordan had been scared, Shay said, "I'm sorry. I'll leave a note on your desk next time I decide to have a nap at work."

"Do that."

Shay returned to her desk and sat down. She dropped the smile.

She'd love to take a return trip to David's office for a closer look. But every time she returned to the same place, the energy would have dissipated a little more. And it took a lot of her energy to make these trips happen. She needed to recharge as it were.

Instead, she could only guess at what really happened. And what the black marker meant. And that didn't make her happy.

***

Roman left the office early. He needed to be in his own space for a bit. Even if he was only going to his studio for an extended lunch – it all helped.

He shut the door and strode across the expanse of studio floor to the windows on the far side. Unbuckling the latches, he propped the large glass window wide, giving thanks that he had a place to breathe so deeply. Creativity required space, and as a messy painter, he needed more space than most. Still, he cleaned his studio himself, not trusting his housecleaning service to do it properly in this room.

He rolled up his sleeves as he surveyed the gray Portland sky around him. He had just enough time to pack up a couple paintings for the new show and see if Roger, the gallery owner, had a preference in style. Normally Roman was very private about his art, and this showing was going to push him out of his comfort zone like nothing else. He handled big business and employees easily, but his painting was...private, personal. He didn't have the same hard edge for that part of his life that he did for business.

In the beginning, he'd never signed his creations. Then, after gaining some experience, he started using a different name. Now, after some modest success, he signed the pieces with his own name. Progress came with appreciation. Only no one here on the West Coast really knew about him – except his family. Back East his art was better known.

He knew that would change soon. Not that he expected to be an overnight success. He just hoped his show didn't bomb.

And he hoped to hell that no one recognized his model.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder what Shay would think of his latest works. He hadn't planned on this collection, but after Bernice had sent those headshots of Shay, he hadn't been able to help himself. He called the collection,
Complicated
.

Like she was.

And she'd been the inspiration that fired up his imagination.

Thankfully he'd not painted her face on the nudes.

But he'd used her body.

***

"Stefan. I could use some help."

"Always. What's up?" For all the willingness in his voice, Shay could never really forget that Stefan pushed himself too hard and for too long, too often. Whether it was helping someone, offering his services to someone in law enforcement, or creating his artwork. And right now, it was obvious that fatigue held his voice up, giving his words form.

"You need a keeper," she said abruptly.

That surprised a laugh out of him.

"I'm serious." And she was. But that had nothing to do with what she wanted to talk to him about.

"Are you volunteering for the job?" Amusement slid through the phone. "Although Alex’s ghostly sister, Lissa, hangs around enough, certainly filling in that position."

"Good. Someone needs to. Especially if your so-called future partner has any of your abilities and knows about them. She's liable to kick my ass down the road for not doing a better job."

This time he laughed aloud. "I'm glad you called, Shay. I needed the laugh. My particular future partner doesn't have any idea about me, and that's probably a good thing."

"I don't know. It's going to take time for a woman to figure you out. Then there's that whole needing-to-accept-you stage," she admonished. "You're not an easy person to get along with."

"Really?" He added in a slow thoughtful tone, "And here, I thought I was a model friend."

""You are, but..." She bit her lip, then sighed heavily. "Actually I'm wondering if you can tell me something." She explained about David's death. "There aren't any signs of foul play. An autopsy is scheduled, but should the results come back with nothing definitive, the police aren't going to think it was anything but a simple heart attack."

"But you're not sure?"

"Right. There was this one black spot on one chakra. It was abnormal – perfectly round. It felt like a marker planted there for some purpose." She sighed. "The thing is, I don't know what that means."

"Or if it means anything. Could be just his wife's subconscious way of checking on her husband's health."

She frowned. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Sometimes appearances can be deceptive," Stefan reminded her. "What else did you see?"

"Not much," she admitted. "The energy in the building is extensive, as the place swarms with customers all day long. There are kids, parents, staff – and that's just for starters. You know how confusing it gets when these people add in all their stuff."

"Love how you use that term – stuff."

"It's true. You know that. Everyone has garbage they haul around with them throughout their day. For me to work through all of that is distracting and tiring."

"And you care about this, why?"

She sighed. "That's the crux of the matter. I just want to make sure this incident has nothing to do with the money we've funneled into the Center. Another payment is due to go out next week. If there's any sign of this being more than a heart attack, I don't want to send the check. And..." She paused, then continued painfully. "I want to make sure that I didn't miss something."

"Ah." He left that last bit alone for the moment. "How big a payment?"

"It's big." Happy to focus on the business aspect, she added, "They’re planning to purchase a building and renovate it to make a larger facility so they can do more. The purchase price is the bulk of the payout."

"Hmmm. So if this person did die of natural causes, what would happen to the plans and the payout?"

"If they have a chain of command in place, and the business manager continues following the same proposal and building purchase plan, then we'd send the funds. However, if they change things, there would be a hold on the money until we were sure the Center, under new administration, is managed properly."

"So killing this person would actually hurt the Center. It could cause the Center to close. Is that what you're saying?" Stefan's voice sharpened. "I'm looking for motivation to help me figure out if foul play is involved."

"Money? Maybe? It's a large check I'm cutting for them. Someone might want to step up and take control of receiving the funds and the project to have access to the money for another purpose – or to steal them. Or someone within the Center could have a personal grudge against the Center and want to close it." Shay knew there were other possibilities – if David had been murdered – but at this point those possibilities were all moot. No one had declared it a murder.

"Hmmm. We've seen murders done for a lot less." His voice cooled. "And you didn't see any other pathways, darkness, anything in the auras of the other people?"

"No."

"And did you look?"

She winced. "I tried to. Look, I know I'm having trust issues that come into play when I interpret people's energy. But if something had popped, I like to think I'd have taken a second look."

"Yes, you would have. You just need to regain your self-confidence. Don't let Darren’s deception make you doubt everything..." His voice trailed off.

"If I can't see the truth, then what's the point of looking? I'm just afraid I’ll make the same mistake again." She wanted to hit her head in frustration. After the death of her fiancé, and the doubts about all she’d thought they were to each other, this questioning of herself and her abilities to recognize good and evil had been a familiar feeling. The doubts about her abilities, and what she'd missed had overwhelmed her.

"And I tell you again, Darren was one in a million. The chances of there being a second one are almost nonexistent."

"And yet it feels like..." She hesitated.

"What?" he prompted.

"What if Darren had family I didn't know about?" She bit her bottom lip gently. "What if other family members could also do what he did?"

Stefan's voice sharpened. "I thought you said he was alone in the world?"

"Sure, but what if that's just what he wanted me to think?" She groaned. "Nothing else he said was true, so why would I believe the stuff he told me about his family?"

"Shay, this guy was a man. Not a god. Not some kind of magician. You didn't fail in not seeing him for who he was. He was powerful and carefully kept things hidden from you."

"So why does it feel like I failed?" Not giving Stefan a chance to argue, she hung up the phone.

If a lasting impression of a frowning Stefan lingered in her mind, she ignored it.

Still, his voice whispered through her consciousness
. You might ignore me, but running away isn't the answer.