Perfectly Matched (28 page)

“That’s sick,” Marisol said.

“There are many deranged people in this world,” Orlinda said.

I glanced at Jeremy, but he didn’t add to the conversation. While waiting with me at the hospital last night, he’d told me how he’d come to help at Valentine, Inc.

Of how when he came here to discuss Ebbie with me, he’d found her with Marisol.

Of how Ebbie told him where I was.

At first, I didn’t remember saying anything aloud, but then I remember shouting that “he was at the office” when I had the vision of Sean.

Ebbie had probably saved our lives.

She swished her tail.

Jeremy had called in another favor, and an FBI helicopter had picked him up here and flown him into
Boston
, dropping him onto the roof of Valentine, Inc.

And suddenly, I wondered how involved he still was with the bureau. Even though he changed his name didn’t necessarily mean he didn’t work for them anymore...

I noticed how Marisol kept looking Jeremy’s way and he at her, and I wondered if Ebbie had really known the two were meant to be together.

At this point I believed anything is possible.

Orlinda swirled the ice in her drink. “I’m still in shock over Graham.”

We all were.

“I don’t know how I misread him so badly,” she added. “Lucy, I’m so very sorry I introduced him into your life.”

She’d already apologized a dozen times. “You couldn’t have known,” I said. Just the other day, Sam had something similar when we thought the arsonist was targeting Sean...and only Sean.

Graham had kept us all guessing.

“People like him wear good masks,” Jeremy said softly.

Graham had been pulled out of the building alive, but he had died on the way to the hospital from severe burns. I wasn’t the least bit sorry that he was dead. Only that Sean had been dragged into a vengeance plot that was against me.

I’d received news this morning, too, that the twenty-two year old skateboarder had died as well. The only comfort I found in the news was that Graham would no longer be able to hurt anyone else.

“What will happen with our group?” I asked. Grendel purred loudly in my lap.

“I’m not sure at this point. Let’s wait and see for a while.”

Jeremy said, “He wants you to stay home more.” He motioned to Grendel.

“No kidding,” I said. “He has separation anxiety.”

“He claims he doesn’t. Just that he misses you.”

“He misses me giving him treats all day.”

“That, too,” Jeremy said with a smile.

“What about Ebbie?” I asked. “What does she have to say?”

Orlinda and Marisol watched on silently.

Jeremy’s tone was serious as he said, “She says her job here is done.”

I bit my lip.

Marisol said, “How did she know to go to you in the first place?”

“I can answer that,” Jeremy said. “Apparently while she was under your care at the vet clinic, you talked about Lucy a lot. It was right after her psychic abilities had been revealed and her name was in the paper. She heard you tell people that Lucy was your friend. She never knew your name, but she remembered Lucy’s.”

Ebbie’s tail swished.

“Wow,” Marisol said. “She’s tenacious.”

Jeremy tried to look nonchalant when he said, “You made a big impact on her.”

I glanced at Orlinda and wiggled my eyebrows.

She smiled. She claimed she had nothing to do with any of the matchmaking, but I wasn’t sure I believed her.

Trying not to sound too eager, I said, “Did you ask Ebbie where she wants to live?”

Jeremy clasped his hands together—but didn’t clench his fists. “Like I mentioned, she said her job here is done.”

“Oh,” I murmured.

“But,” he added, “she’d really like it if she could stay with you.”

Joy bubbled in me. “Really?”

“Really.”

I bent over and scooped her up, nestling her next to Grendel on my lap. He put a paw on her back and licked her face.

A perfect match, as Marisol had called them the other day.

I glanced between her and Jeremy.

Were they a perfect match, too?

I’d soon find out. Cutter was sitting on Dovie’s deck with a pair of binoculars, waiting for Jeremy to leave.

Operation Jeremy’s Aura was underway.

“Is she going to stop eating things that aren’t good for her?” I asked.

He laughed. “She only did that so you’d call Marisol.”

“Sneaky,” I said to her.

She purred.

“Well,” Orlinda placed her glass on the table. “I should go. I just wanted to stop by and give you an update on
Bethany
.”

I hobbled over to the bassinet and picked up the pink bear. I handed it to her. “She might want this back.”

Orlinda nodded and tucked it into the bag on the back of her wheelchair. I opened the door and she rolled out toward the ramp we used when she visited.

“I should go, too,” Marisol said, standing. “I’ve got to grab a quick lunch before heading back to the clinic.”

Jeremy rose. He walked over and patted Ebbie’s head, then turned toward the door. “I was going to get some lunch, too... Maybe you’d care to join me?” he asked.

Marisol nodded shyly.

Shyly! Marisol! I never thought I’d see the day when a man made her shy.

As Jeremy helped Orlinda navigate to her car, Marisol turned back to me.

“He’s really not my type,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“But...I’m curious.”

“Curious is okay,” I said.

“And I think he’d be good in bed—all that bad boy energy.”

“Get out of here,” I said, playfully shoving her through the door.”

She turned and waved, and I walked to the edge of the front porch and glanced up at Cutter.

He was giving two big thumbs up.

A perfect match.

Chapter Thirty

Later that afternoon, Sean and I sat on the porch, looking out at the ocean.

“My parents are on their way back,” I said. “Mum’s beside herself worrying about you and
Preston
, and Dad’s beside himself worrying about the Valentine, Inc. building.”

Sean cracked a smile. “He’ll be relieved that the upper floors are just smoke damaged.”

I was relieved, too. It was going to take a while to set the building back to rights, but most of it was intact, thanks to the man on the Harley who’d driven me into the city. He hadn’t just gone to the police, but he’d also gone to the nearest firehouse, where Curt Meister happened to have just returned after helping Sam look for Sean.

Fate?
I wondered. Or something else? Like Sean’s mom looking out for him?

I probably wouldn’t ever know, but my motorcycle-riding friend was coming by tomorrow for a reading on his lost watch—and his thousand dollar bonus. I planned to double it. It was the least I could do.

Happily, the Porcupine hadn’t been damaged at all. The fire separation wall that had been installed when Maggie renovated the place had withstood the worst test possible. She and Raphael were already back in business.

The water glittered like diamonds, and sailboats dotted the horizon. It was still hot as hell, but the breeze was cool and there was a cold front on the horizon.

The National Guard had regained control of the city overnight, and all of the fires were out. Now it was time to clean up and rebuild.

Sean said, “How do your parents feel about the engagement?”

“We didn’t talk about it too much,” I said.

“How do you feel about the engagement? The pregnancy?”

“I’m...” I searched for a name to my emotion. “I’m not sure.”

He said, “Do you wish it was you?”

“Marrying and having a baby with Cutter? Ew, that’s gross. He’s my brother. There are laws against that.”

He laughed. “You know what I meant.”

I glanced at him and got lost for a second in his gray eyes. “I know.”

“And?”

I shrugged. “A little. But, I have issues. My parents are crazy. My grandmother barges in at all hours, I have these visions, and oh, yeah, I deal with my fair share of psychopaths. That’s a lot of baggage for someone else to help carry.”

Biting my lip, I waited for him to say something. If he wanted out, now was the time to speak up.

He nudged my chin. “That baggage has helped shape you into who you are today. You’re going to be a wonderful wife. And mother.” Leaning over, he kissed me slowly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I whispered.

He picked up his glass of lemonade and took a drink.

I waited and waited for him to continue the conversation, but when he put his head back against the cushion and closed his eyes I finally had to speak up.

“That’s it?”

A dimple popped as he cracked open an eye. “What? You’re expecting a proposal here and now?”

“Well, yeah, kind of. That was quite the build-up.”

His other dimple popped. “Patience, Ms. Valentine. Patience.”

I leaned back in my chair. “You know how I feel about patience.”

“That’s right,” he said, his voice suddenly husky. “We still have to put the patience versus savoring issue to the test.”

I smiled. “When you’re feeling better, we’ll put that to the test.”

“I’m feeling much better.”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “How much better?”

“I don’t know about you, Ms. Valentine, but I’m ready to savor every minute.”

His eyes told me that he meant so much more than what was on the surface. He was talking about our life together. The good, the bad, the ugly. He was talking about marriage and babies.

Love.

My heart soared.

“Me, too, Mr. Donahue. Me, too.”

***

Early the next morning, I was pouring a cup of coffee when the doorbell rang.

Glancing at the clock, I frowned. It was a little past seven. I knew it couldn’t be Dovie—she would have come right in.

I patted Ebbie’s head on the way to the door and quieted a barking Thoreau. I peeked out the window and was shocked by who stood on my porch.

Pulling open the door, I said, “Well, Aiden Holliday, where have you been hiding yourself?” But as I teased, I noticed the wild look in his eye, the way his normally neat short hair stuck out all over his head. Stubble covered his cheeks. I immediately started to worry. “What’s wrong?”

“I need your help, Lucy.”

“Of course. With what?”

He held up a finger, spun around and marched to his car. He pulled open the back door and reached inside. What he pulled out had my jaw on the ground.

A beautiful little girl, maybe eighteen months old, clung to his neck.

Aiden carried her to the porch.

“Who’s she?” I asked.

“My daughter.”

I stared at him for a long, hard minute. Finally, I found my voice. “Where’s her mother?”

“That’s why I need your help,” he said. “She’s missing.”

***

Did you know Heather Webber also writes as Heather Blake?

Keep reading for a sneak peek at Heather Blake’s debut novel.

It Takes a Witch

Copyright
©
Heather Blake

January 2012

Obsidian

Chapter One

Usually I’m not in the habit of tiptoeing through strange houses under the cover of darkness.

It was unsettling to say the least, and I felt completely out of sorts. My outfit only added to my discomfort. The flouncy, frilly pink satin bodysuit, tulle tutu, and pink ballet slippers were a far cry from my usual jeans and tee.

It didn’t help that my every move was being watched closely.

As I crept up aged wooden stairs of a large house along the coast of
Salem
,
Massachusetts
, Amanda Goodwin followed behind me with her mother-in-law, Cherise, bringing up the rear. They’d ushered me straight upstairs as soon as I’d arrived, their eyes lit like they were two little
girls sneaking a peek at Santa.

At the top of the steps, a long hallway branched into four bedrooms, one of which had its door closed. Pink and black polka-dotted block letters attached to the wood paneling declared it as my destination: Laurel Grace Goodwin’s bedroom.

“Have you done this before, Ms. Merriweather?” Amanda asked softly, tugging on my gossamer wings.
 
“Played the tooth fairy?”