Tansy Taylor (24 page)

“Well, I didn’t see any… wait! How did you know he was garroted?” Shit. How was I going to get out of this one?

“Huh?” I gave him my best ‘blonde duh’ look and made baby noises at the puppy and scratched his tummy.

Sam looked confused. “You just asked me if there was blood, but the details weren’t released to the public. So, Tansy, how did you know Ivopov was garroted?” He was heading over to me, and the look on his face was waffling from concern to suspicion. I continued to focus on the dog.

“You know what! We don’t know this little guy’s name!? I wonder if it’s something manly like Spike or Duke? Or maybe something French, since he is a French dog. You are a boy, aren’t you?” I held him up so that I could get a peek underneath. “Yup he’s a he.” I put him back down on the sofa and then glanced up at Sam. He looked ticked.

“Tansy, you are totally avoiding my question.” His hands were on his hips and he stood towering over me.

“What question was that?” I paused, feigning forgetful ignorance. Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, right, how did I know that Ivopov was garroted?” I scratched my head. “You know, I’m not sure. I must have overheard it, maybe at the police station the other night? Or maybe the day it happened? I was at the park that day trying to see what was going on.” I shrugged, trying to play it off.

“Oh. I didn’t know you were anywhere around that day. Why were you down there?”

I couldn’t very well tell him I’d been wandering around the car lot in disguise like a bag lady. I was digging myself a really deep hole here, and I felt really bad I was telling fibs to this wonderful guy. Ugh, why could things never just be simple in my life? Why did I need to see people’s auras, get creepy premonitions and talk to dead people? Why did I need to have these darned special abilities? All they had gotten me lately was a loss of income and into a mess of trouble.

“You okay?” Now he was looking at me with those intense blue eyes, and I felt my stomach flip-flop. I really was speechless and it wasn’t because I couldn’t think up a good lie. I stood up, wrapped my arms around his neck and met his gaze.

“Have I told you how much I like just looking into your eyes? They remind me of being on vacation in a warm sunny place. They make me happy.” I sighed, staring into those eyes.

Sam chuckled. “Well, I definitely like having you look into my eyes; I get all hot and bothered though, more like I’m in a super steam room.” He pulled himself free of me and went back to setting up his computer. I stood there for a moment, not sure what I should be doing.

“Ah, yes, well, that’s when we touch.” I got up and went around to where he was sitting and straddled him. I reached up and put his face in my hands and looked into his eyes. His aura was soft and fuzzy and I could tell he was happy, even if we were in the middle of all this. It wasn’t hard to see that Sam thrived on the adrenaline that came in his line of business.

“I really, really like your eyes.” I leaned into him and brushed his lips with mine. It was instant heat. I started to make myself more comfortable just as Sam’s computer made a loud ringing noise.

“Damn. We should probably focus more on the matter of getting Callie back and on who is trying to get to you, even though there are more delicious ways I’d prefer to spend my time. He reached in and pulled me closer and we kissed hard and fast. Then, gently, he lifted me up and placed me back over on the sofa. I felt like a discarded sack of potatoes. The little ball of fluff decided I was the bee’s knees though, and was up on me instantly, licking my face and jumping up and down.

“Of course we should. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

The puppy was starting to sniff around the table. “Uh-oh, I think maybe he needs to go outside to take care of business.” I got up and the puppy started after me toward the door.

“You may want to find some sort of belt or something to use as a makeshift leash so he doesn’t run off.” Sam talked without even taking a break from typing on his computer.

“Oh, I didn’t even think of that. Good idea.” I ran upstairs and found one of my thin ribbon belts that had been all the rage a few years ago. I took it down and tied it around fluff-ball’s collar and then led him to the door.

We got outside and he immediately went over and found a bush. “Good boy!” Fluff-ball ran over to me and started jumping up and down on my leg. I scooped him up and headed back towards the house. As I turned a shiver ran down my spine. I could feel someone’s eyes on my back. I turned casually; the blue van was parked across the street. There was definitely someone sitting in the driver’s seat. A large truck turned and headed in his direction. A distinct shape, one of a large camera, was lit up by the headlights. It was pointed right at me. My body instantly broke out in goose bumps and fluff ball barked. I ran for the house and immediately threw the deadbolt once back inside.

“What’s up? He take care of business?” Sam was still typing on his laptop and didn’t even look up.

I took a deep but shaky breath. “Yup, he was a good fluff-ball. I am a bit concerned however, about the dark blue van sitting across the street with the guy in it pointing a camera at me.” I sunk into the couch, the puppy jumping up and licking at my face. I gently pushed him down and scratched his ears.

Sam broke eye contact with his laptop and paused. “Did you say there is someone staking out your house?”

I nodded. “I think so. I’ve never seen a creepy perv van like that here in the neighborhood. You know the kind, two doors and no other windows? This one is dark blue, almost black. I saw someone in there and could sense that he is not a good someone. A truck came around the corner and the lights hit him square in the face. He shielded his eyes, but he had a very large camera with one of those really big telephoto lenses. So, ya, I guess I’d have to say that he was totally staking out the house.” I shivered again and wrapped my cashmere tighter around me.

“When you say you could sense he was bad, what exactly do you mean? Like, it looked creepy and so you figured he was a bad guy?” I could see that Sam was still a little suspect of my special talents, most law enforcement types were.

“No, I mean I was overwhelmed with the feeling that whatever he brought with him, in spirit, let’s say, is evil, dark, up to no kind of good.” He scratched at his arm and then ran his fingers through his hair, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He took a deep breath.

“So, you can like, feel, is someone is good or bad? Is that what you are saying?”

I nodded. “That is pretty much how I sum it up. You know that feeling of deja vu you get every now and then, or when something happens and you totally knew after it happened it was going to happen? That is what this is like. Only, instead of knowing an event or having a sensation of being somewhere with someone before, it’s a feeling about that person’s soul. I look at someone and get an idea or feeling if they are good or bad. For instance, I get a warm feeling when I look at you. It’s not like there is a banner that is waving over everyone’s head, it’s just sort of like a general feeling that I can catalogue away as another fact that I know about them. It’s just a part of how I recognize a person’s characteristics. Does that long and drawn out description make more sense?” I looked into his eyes, concerned that he might think I was in fact a sort of a freak. He smiled and me and gave me a kiss.

“So, is it 100% accurate then?” He asked, focused back on his computer.

I frowned. “Well, no. It doesn’t seem to work so well when romance is involved. Like I said, my senses get a bit muddled around hot attractive, especially blue-eyed, men.” He reached over and squeezed my knee and I smiled.

Sam took the fluff-ball off of my lap, held him up and looked him in the eye. “So, what shall we call you?” The puppy barked in response.

“I’m sure he has a name; I don’t want to confuse him. Let’s just get back to this whole mess around Ivopov, Callie missing, and the Russian mob.” Crap. I’d done it again. Sam turned and I could tell I wasn’t going to get out of this flub so easy, damn.

“Do you want to revise your earlier statement as to why you know so much about the late Mr. Ivopov? It seems that you know a bit more than you’re letting on, or at least intentionally talking about. Sit and spill it.” He pointed to the couch and I could see a tiny vein throbbing near the edge of his right eyebrow. I supposed I should sit; I just wasn’t sure how much I could spill without him thinking I was a complete fruitcake.

“Well? Are you going to tell me how you know Ivopov was with the mob? Or how you knew how he died?”

“If I tell you, you’re going to think I’m a total freaky nutcase,” I mumbled at my lap.

“What? Why would I think that? If I know where you’ve been and who you’ve been talking to, it might just help me narrow down who could be out there in that van.” He swept his hand down the side of my face, tucked a curl behind my ear and tilted my chin so that I had to look him in the eye. I sighed. I supposed he had a good point, I really did need the good guys on my side so that when the man in the van decided he should get out of the van and come in for a closer look I’d have some protection. Don’t get me wrong, I can totally take care of myself. I remember all that self defense stuff I learned from Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality-S.I.N.G. wasn’t it? I am sure I could totally take down a bad guy. If nothing else, I do have some nice sharp fingernails I could use to poke out eyeballs.

“Hello? Were you planning on telling me what you’ve been up to or were you just going to sit there and space out on me?” Sam waved his hand in front of my face and I shook my head clear.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about self defense techniques. Yes, I’m going to tell you but first, you must swear to me that you totally think I am not a nutcase, and that you realize some people have extraordinarily special gifts, like reading auras, having a sixth sense, seeing the future, and um, talking to ghosts. So, do you promise? You won’t judge me or what I’m telling you?” I bit my lip and looked into his eyes. I could feel skepticism vibrating from him, but also curiosity.

“Well, I can see this means a lot to you; and since well, you’re starting to mean a lot to me, then yes. I promise to keep an open mind and listen to what you have to say. Do you want to start from the beginning?” He sat down next to me on the couch.

I decided that the beginning was a very good place indeed, and so I started with Callie’s phone call and then worked through the rest. I didn’t go into too many details about the ghosts, I wasn’t sure Sam would be as open minded when I started telling him all of the particulars about how Buster and Eugene had appeared to me. I let them be more of a voice in my head, rather than floating specters that played charades and spoke with a twang.

I finished and Sam sat there, digesting what I’d spilled. I started chewing on the inside of my cheek, waiting for him to say something, anything.

“So, what you’re telling me is that you figured out that Buster, Callie’s boyfriend was murdered by Ivopov, and he somehow had some missing files, but it definitely has to do with the Russian mob and Big.” He paused and ran his hands through his hair. He seemed to do that quite a bit. “So, that’s everything you’ve been up to in the last few days. Okay.”

“Yup, that’s all of it. So, we are left with a pile of questions, and not a lot of answers. I’m pretty sure though something is going down at the port tomorrow.

“Well, then I guess I should go down there and see what is going to be going on.” He stood up and started to gather his computer stuff up.

“Wait a minute mister. I just told you everything I know and I know you know some stuff that’s going on. You need to share with me too!” I crossed my arms and did my best raised eyebrow.

Sam was shaking his head. “I really can’t share too much. Most of what I’m working on is tax related stuff, nothing to do with the Russian mob.”

“That you know of…” I added.

“Right-that I know of. I’m just not sure that tax evasion has much to do with dealings of the Russian mob. Have you seen Mr. Big? He is not exactly someone I would picture being in bed with the Russians. He is actually quite a big wimp. From what I can tell, he’s just hiding income here and there. If I had to pick someone at the dealership I thought would be capable of dealing with the mob, it would not be him.” He stopped what he was doing and sat back down on the couch.

“Who would it be then? Ronnie?” I had my own suspicions about Ronnie. He was slimy, disgusting, and had more hands than an octopus had arms. I wanted to go take a shower just thinking about him putting his hands on me. Yuck!

“I suppose that Ronnie or Jimbo are good candidates. They both have some shady dealings in their past. Ronnie is the king of failed get rich quick schemes. He has three ex wives and at least one bankruptcy. The guy lives in a rat infested apartment and drives a brand new BMW. He has some mixed up priorities if you ask me. He also seems to have a pretty bad gambling habit. Jimbo however, seems to just be a bad alcoholic who tends to get himself into situations he can’t afford. His only enemy is really himself. If I had to bet, I would go with Ronnie. He’s always looking for a way to make a quick buck; he may have gotten involved with the wrong group of people. The Russians run a lot of chop shops around town.” He sat silent, thinking.

I pulled my knees into my chest and wrapped my arms around them, hugging them to myself. “So, what do we do about the blue van? Just go out and knock on the window and ask them what’s up?”