Perfectly Matched (12 page)

I’d promised Raphael I’d take a cab ride home instead of trying to navigate the ferry, even though it was going to cost me an arm and a leg—money that Raphael had loaned me since mine had been carried about by a hoodlum.

Fluffing the pillow behind my head, I wiggled, trying to get comfortable. Over the noise of the window fan, the din of rush hour traffic floated in. Oddly, I found the honking, the sirens, and the
bustle
oddly soothing.

My phone rang and I answered on the first ring. It was my mother.

“LucyD! What is this about your father squiring me away? What isn’t he telling me?”

Ah
, he hadn’t told her about the arsonist. It was probably for the best. My mother was one to dwell on things. I could hear lots of noise in the background. “It’s a thousand degrees in the office and Dad doesn’t like to sweat. Are you already at the airport?”

“Well, now it all makes perfect sense. And yes, we’re at the airport. We’re due to fly out in an hour. I could use a vacation, but I knew there was something going on. You’ll have the week off as well?”

I felt a stab of guilt that I kept the real reason from her. “Heading home soon.”

“How will you survive without me for the week?” she asked dramatically.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’m sure Dovie will be around lots.”

She laughed. “Oh, she’ll be around. You should see what she’s ordered for you and Sean.”

“Not a crib, I hope.”

“Oh, you’ll see.”

We said our goodbyes, and she promised to send a postcard. I hung up and looked down. I’d taken the wrap off my foot to let it breathe, and wished I hadn’t.

It was one ugly foot.

Even the locksmith noticed. “You ought to get that looked at.”

He was as bad as Raphael. “I’m going to.”

Just as soon as I found Sean and kicked his ass from here to
Nantucket
.

With my good foot, of course.

“Soon,” he said. “If it’s broken, you don’t want to have to get it re-broken to fix it.”

I glanced at him. He was sixty if a day, with bushy eyebrows and sage green eyes. “Broken? I don’t think so. Just sprained maybe.”

He tipped his head. “I ain’t wrong about these things. I have a sixth sense, you know?”

“Nope,” I said. I was sick of anything to do with sixth senses.

He dropped a screwdriver into his mini toolbox. “Well, I do. And dollars to doughnuts, that foot is broken.”

I’d already called Em, who promised she’d take a look at it when I got home tonight. It was nice having a best friend who was a former doctor. One who lived right next door—she had been living with Dovie since Christmastime. The arrangement, which was supposed to have been temporary, had turned into something more permanent and was a good thing for both of them. It kept the loneliness at bay.

I rather liked it, too, having her so close. My cottage sat on the edge of Dovie’s property, on a cliff with breathtaking water views. And though I insisted on paying rent, I knew she took the money and funneled it into some sort of high-yield account that would eventually come back to me. Still, it made me feel better to think I was paying my own way.

Now that Em was engaged to Aiden, I wondered how long she’d be around. Not that Aiden lived all that far away, but still. A long engagement would be nice.

I blinked my eyes open and dialed Aiden’s number. Em had been worried about him being standoffish lately, and filling him in on the
Beantown
Burner case might be the perfect reason to call him out of the blue and segue into his relationship with Em.

Which wasn’t any of my business, except for the fact that Em was my best friend, and she was worried, so that made me worry.

I was a fixer. I couldn’t help myself.

My call went straight to Aiden’s voicemail, and I left a quick message asking him to call me back about a case.

I pulled the pink bear from the coffee table onto my lap and stared into its small black eyes. Holding it between my hands, I tried to replicate what had happened earlier in my office, but saw nothing. Felt nothing.

I sighed.

“Just about done here,” the locksmith said. “You gonna be okay here? You need a ride someplace?”

“Thanks,” I said, “but I’m okay.”

His face pulled into a frown as he wiped his hand on a rag pulled from his pocket. “You call me if you change your mind. I’ve got three daughters of my own, and I’d want someone looking after them.”

I smiled. Sometimes I forgot how kind people could be. “Thank you. I have your card if I need you.”

With a brusque nod, he packed up his stuff. “I’ll send your father the bill.”

“I’ll make sure he pays it.”

The man laughed. He set a ring of keys on the table—he’d already given me several new key cards to hand out. “You take care, Ms. Valentine, and get to that doctor.” With a wink, he added, “I’ll see myself out.”

I debated walking him out just to show I could, but quickly decided against it. In fact, I was seriously considering staying on this couch for the next three days. If not for the extreme heat, an arsonist on the loose, an abandoned cat at my place, and a missing Sean, I might have.

Instead, I stared again at the pink bear.

Orlinda had forbid us from searching for the little girl through other methods besides our abilities. No Googling allowed.

However, I was itching to do a search for a missing little girl named
Bethany
. Where was she from? Had there been any leads in her case at all? Had any clues been found?

I wouldn’t do an online search, however. I’d trust Orlinda’s process, as painful as it was.

The office phone rang, and I gave it the evil eye for a long second before I hauled myself off the couch and hopped, one-footed, over to Suz’s desk.

I grabbed the phone. “Valentine, Inc., this is Lucy, may I help you?”

“Lucy Valentine!” a woman shouted. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all day.”

By the harsh tone, I knew immediately that it was Annie Hendrix. An image of enormous breasts popped into my mind, and I shook my head to get rid of it. “Hi, Annie.”

“Don’t you ‘Hi, Annie’ me. You don’t know what I’ve been going through. What I’ve endured.”

Annie was a professional psychic, working full-time at a place on
Tremont Street
. Her gift was automatic writing—jotting down information guided by spirits who’d passed over. Despite her histrionics, she’d become quite successful in her field.

I sat in Suz’s seat. My patience had worn paper thin, so I bit my lip to keep from giving Annie a flip response. My head was starting to ache.

“I cannot afford to lose business, Lucy Valentine. So whatever you’ve done to me, undo it.”

A nice bath. That’s what I needed. A glass of wine.

And maybe some morphine.

Rubbing my temple, I said, “You lost me. Undo what?”

“Whatever hex you put on me.”

I opened Suz’s drawers, hoping to find a wayward bottle of aspirin. “Annie, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“All day, Lucy Valentine! All day. Whenever a client came in, and I pulled out a fresh sheet of paper to do their reading, do you know what I wrote?”

“Enlighten me.”

“Your name.
Lucy Valentine
, over and over.”

“Why?”

“You’ve hexed me!”

“I hate to break it to you, Annie, but I’m a psychic, not any kind of witch. I don’t have hexing powers.”

“Well,” she said with a big dose of acrimony, “you kind of seem like a witch to me.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it, unable to believe what I’d just heard.

The nerve!

My last shred of patience went up in flames.

I hung up.

When the phone immediately rang again, I ignored it.

Even though I was dying to know why she was getting readings on my name, I was done with the abuse. The taunts. The teasing. The snickers. This weekend would be my last meeting with the Diviner Whiners. Orlinda would just have to understand.

As the phone continued to ring, I smiled.

Suddenly feeling good, I rewrapped my foot and turned off all the fans and lights. I grabbed my cell phone, the pink bear, and my new set of keys and locked up the office.

On my way out, I ignored the drone of the ringing office phone and paused on the landing. Looking up the wooden stairs to SD Investigations, I saw the door was open.

Sweat beaded on my forehead as I carefully climbed the steps. Cherry wood stairs creaked under my feet with each tentative step I took.

I tried not to put weight on my left foot, but it was nearly impossible. I thought about what the locksmith said, about my foot being broken, and hoped he was wrong.

The last thing I wanted was a cast during this heat. Never mind navigating the world on crutches.

Then I thought of Orlinda in her wheelchair and felt terrible.

At least my foot would heal.

I tried to ignore the pain as I hobbled into the office. Andrew’s desk was clear, and there was no sign of him anywhere. The scent of cinnamon lingered in the air as I headed down the hallway to Sean’s office.

Sam stuck his head out of his office door. “I thought I heard someone. I’m just locking up.”

“Are you going straight to Raphael’s?”

“I’m going to stop at home first and pack some things. I’ll take the long way to Raphael’s, just to make sure no one is following me.”

The pit was back in my stomach. “Be careful, okay?”

“I will.”

I nodded toward Sean’s office. “I just came up to check on him one more time.”

“He’s not back yet. What happened to you?” He motioned to my foot.

“Long story.” I leaned against the wall. “You haven’t heard from Sean at all?”

He shook his head.

I eyed him carefully, picking up on the fact that even though he was stressed, he wasn’t stressed about Sean. “Why don’t you seem as concerned as I am?”

“Because I know where he is.”

“What?” My tone was sharp. I’d been worried sick all day and Sam had known where Sean was this whole time?

“Sorry, Lucy. I hoped he’d be back by now, and I wouldn’t have to be the one to fill you in.”

Taking a deep breath to tamp down my annoyance, I said, “What do you mean, ‘fill me in?’ Where is he?”

I wanted to know so I could get his ass-kicking under way. Then I’d go home, get my foot looked at by Em, deal with Ebbie, and have that bath.

“The cemetery.”

Chapter Twelve

Being at a cemetery had a way of knocking the ass-kicking right out of a girl.

I limped along a damp twining path, using an umbrella as a cane. There was a strange feeling in the air, partly due to the fact that sunbeams had broken through the low-lying dark clouds, casting an eerie glow across the city on the horizon.

Here, tombstones rose up around me as trees canopied the path. Because of the clouds, it felt like dusk, even though it was only a bit past six.

The cemetery itself should have been creepy, especially in this light, but the birds were chirping, the breeze rustled the leaves, and I finally felt at peace for the first time all day.

As I passed grave after grave, I couldn’t help but think about all these people who’d passed on and wondered what it would be like to communicate with them. One thought led to another and before I knew it, I was thinking about the Diviner Whiners. Annie, Dr. Paul, and Graham could communicate with the dead. Annie through writing, Dr. Paul could see spirits leaving bodies, and Graham could hear them and feel their presence.

I was entirely fascinated by their abilities, but wasn’t sure I wanted the responsibility of speaking for those who passed. It was hard enough living with my own ability.
Abilities
. I had more than one now.

I could find lost objects.

I could see scenes from my and Sean’s future.

And I could see pieces of a person’s life through their eyes by holding something that belonged to them.

I just didn’t know how to control that last one. Didn’t know how to turn it on and off.

Sam had given me directions on how to find Sean, and had let me borrow one of SDI’s cars to get here. He’d also loaned me a tote bag, in which I’d placed my phone and the pink bear. I had a death grip on the bag’s straps. No punk skateboarder was going to get this bag away from me. That bear was my link to
Bethany
.

And my link to figuring out more about myself.

I slowly walked along, thinking about Sean. About why he was here. Sam had said that this was Sean’s thinking spot. Where he went when he was stressed out or simply needed time alone. The spot where he worked through his troubles.