Touch of Betrayal, A (2 page)

I stepped back to get my bearings. It was one of those spring days when the sky was too bright and the cloud cover so thin that the glare hurt my eyes. I stood, pocketed the empty water bottle, and slipped my sunglasses on, surveying the land.

A patch of daffodils had pushed through the charred ground, their bright yellow faces dancing in the crisp breeze.

Hope. I gathered it close, but exhaustion, or maybe it was depression, weighed on my bones. Mitch and I had been married more than a year now, and he’d been talking about children again. Our children. I rubbed my hand over my abdomen, and my knees went weak. No way—especially after meeting my grandfather and learning about his shamanic power—would I be bringing a child into my life. Our life. Only it wouldn’t be Mitch’s responsibility to deal with the genetic predisposition for psychic phenomena that ran in my family. It would be mine, and I could barely handle my own ESP fingertips. Whoever thought of calling extrasensory abilities gifts had totally neglected to consider the other side. The part about life never being normal. Not that I’d ever give up my ability to see things through touch, or my new ability to heal, but to pass it on to my children? Scary.

The hair on my nape twitched.

I spun, checking the perimeter of the grounds, my mind chasing the shadows that moved restlessly in the sunlight. Nothing looked out of place. I headed toward the tree line, intent on finding whatever had pushed my panic button. A lost dog, maybe. It had been nine months since I’d seen Merlin, and I missed his quivery, happy body, his wet nose when he nuzzled my neck, even his doggy-breath kisses. But he belonged to Detective Adam Stone, and they’d moved to Hawaii to be near my best friend, Annie, and her baby girl Madigan.

And there it was again, the niggling reminder that Mitch was all about children lately, despite the fact I’d made it clear—
before
we got married—that there would be no babies in my future. Was I going to let Mitch talk me into parenthood?

A chill skittered over my skin, thousands of tiny prickly feet warning me to be careful. I palmed my iPhone, brushing my fingertips over the slick, glass surface.

Who could I call? Everyone lived in Hawaii now, and Mitch was on assignment. I should have known not to come here by myself with the memories still being so raw, but seclusion hadn’t been working for me, so I scheduled a week off to search for clues about who’d torched my childhood home.

I’d indulged Mitch’s overprotective streak, and yeah, not been ready to brave the world after the turmoil of Annie’s brush with death. And I had no idea how to deal with the ever-present threat that the poison my mother discovered would show up again. And to top it off, my understanding of my new healing abilities was still at the toddler stage.

I brushed the twitchies off my neck. It had to be a simple case of overactive baby-fretting. There wasn’t anything going on here that could possibly be dangerous since Brody Williams, bad guy extraordinaire, had been locked up for the rest of his unnatural life.

I rolled my shoulders back, dismissing the ESP warning that I was being watched. Probably I’d just over-adjusted to living in the country where no one was
ever
around. My city-sense had been dulled since Adam’s departure, and Chief Hayes had stopped calling me in to consult on police cases. I’d become dull, boring, and oblivious.

Zing.

Thud.

I jerked back. Pivoted on my heel, and zigzagged for the trees at a full-out run. What the hell? Someone shot at me?

A whisk of air brushed by my ear.

One heartbeat.

Another loud crack. This one behind me. And too close.

Pounding feet moving up fast. Arms tightened around me, and I ate dirt, the broken plastic from my sunglasses poking into my temple.

Heart-pounding, adrenaline-triggered slow motion kicked in as he rolled slightly to take the brunt of the fall. Then a heavy weight flattened me against the ground.

No air.

I shoved my elbow back, aiming for a squishy, vulnerable spot on my attacker, and met hard muscle. The familiar guy-soap scent of him mingled with the scorched earth.

Déjà vu.

Dizziness threw off my vision, probably from my brain cells firing so rapidly I could barely keep up. Safe. His scent chased away the fear. Not that I would succumb to the siren call of this man, especially now that I was a happily married woman.

“Off. Me. Now.” I spit the words out, along with the lingering taste of dirt. “And give me your clutch piece. It’s uncomfortable as all hell being shot at when I don’t have a weapon.”

“Quiet, Belisama.” The Irish in his words brought my dormant killer instinct into full play. But I fought it, and relaxed into the ground. If Tynan Pierce wanted me quiet, I’d damn well stay quiet. At least until he got off me.

Minutes passed. My leg went numb from being crushed at an odd angle, and Pierce was so still I couldn’t feel him breathe.

He rolled. I inched onto my back, welcoming air into my lungs. But I turned away, not looking at him. Not ready to see the deep blue eyes that would tell me I was in danger. Again. Still.

I closed my eyes, shutting out the billowing clouds and sunshine-pale sky. I needed Mitch to be home. Shouldn’t have come here without him.

A rustling sound cut through the ringing in my ears, and the warmth of Pierce’s body disappeared. A shadow moved over me, blocking the sunlight from my closed eyes. Breathing out a loud sigh, I refused to look at him.

The toe of his boot nudged my ribs. “Time to move.”

I kept my eyes closed.
So
not ready for this. “Shooter gone?” I asked.

Pierce growled. I’d only said five words to him and somehow managed to tick him off. It had to be a record, and that was saying something.

Okay, Everly Gray Hunt, you can do this. You’ve been fighting boredom with the bitter tenacity of a celibate nympho, and this is it. Life the way it used to be before…
I kicked my internal thoughts out of the way, opened my eyes, and levered onto my elbows, bracing myself. When I met Pierce’s stare, a shaft of panic seared my chest, rocking me to the core. He was afraid.

A river of shakes took over my muscles. I had never, not once, seen Tynan Pierce with the dark shadows of fear riding his gorgeous, black-Irish features. Even when Annie had been shot with a poisoned arrow. And he had a former-partner relationship with her that was cemented in an until-death promise. Loyalty wasn’t something Pierce took lightly.

His toe nudged me again, and he reached for my arm. “Sometime today.”

The rush of adrenaline leveled off, and red-hot anger shot through me. I twisted out of his grasp and jumped to my feet, holding out my hand. “Give me a weapon. Now. How dare some jerk shoot at me? I’m grieving here. Have issues.”

Pierce grinned, bent to remove his back-up weapon from his ankle holster, offered it to me, then pulled back. “Welcome back, Belisama. It’s been used. You ready for the impact?”

I nodded, and sucked in a you-can-do-this breath to prep for whatever images the weapon held. My hand wrapped around the metal butt and my mind filled with an instant replay of Pierce at the firing range. The man never missed. I tucked the gun into my waistband at the small of my back, brushed the dirt off my clothes, and straightened my jacket. “Looks like you’ve been spending time at the firing range. Me, too. With Mitch.”

The twinkle left Pierce’s eyes. “And you didn’t bring a weapon with you?”

I scrunched my forehead, then relaxed the muscles before I gave myself a headache. “I didn’t come here to do battle. Just thought I might find something to lead me to Millie and Harlan.”

“Uh-huh.” Pierce wasn’t buying it.

Too bad. It would have to do as an explanation because I sure as all hell wasn’t about to discuss the loneliness I’d been fighting for months. “The jerkwad shooter is long gone, right? Or you wouldn’t be standing there looking all smug and relaxed?”

“Ran when my bullet nicked his ear. Thought I’d hang around. Play bodyguard while you’re checking for…what, exactly?”

Pierce’s blatant curiosity kicked up my desire to explore the scene. He wouldn’t be here unless he knew something I didn’t. An easy given since I knew nothing, and Pierce always knew everything. Or close to. Had to, or he wouldn’t have become a super-spy. Which he supposedly wasn’t anymore according to his cryptic phone call. “Why’d you leave government work?”

His grin faded. So briefly I couldn’t be sure if it had slipped, or that a nanosecond of palpable anger had filled the space between us. “Too confining.”

A believable answer, but not one I accepted. Pierce had a way of ignoring boundaries no matter who drew the line.

Maybe if I approached it from a different direction. “Who shot at me? They either had lousy aim, or no intention of killing me.”

His fingers brushed my cheek. “Dirt,” he said, dropping his hand and stepping back. “They probably wanted to scare you.”

I glanced around the property, appreciating the green sprouts poking though the soil. If Harlan’s garden wasn’t going to give up, neither was I. “Well, then. Thanks to the jerkwad for shooting at me and confirming there’s something here I need to find.”

“We’ll split it. I’ll take half the property.” He’d used his Pierce-in-charge voice and it grated along my nerves.

“Not necessary. I can do it, and you must have stuff—”

“My priority, Everly, is getting you to Hawaii yesterday. Let’s get this done.” He pulled a wad of plastic bags from his back pocket and shoved half in my direction.

“I haven’t talked to Mitch about going with him, so it’ll be a while before I can leave.” I snatched the bags from his hand and headed toward the far corner of the property. It wasn’t exactly a lie. I hadn’t
talked
to Mitch. I did text him, but his return message had been cryptic and adamant. He didn’t want me anywhere near Honolulu. It didn’t make sense. Not that I’d ever asked to travel with him when he worked, but
everyone
lived in Hawaii now, and it hurt that he didn’t want me with him.

Lost in thought, I stumbled over a bump in the uneven ground and glanced down … “Pierce!”

My brain froze, caught in indecision. Should I bend over for a closer look at what appeared to be the bones of a human hand? Or run like Hades had a bead on my soul?

TWO

I stepped back, my feet sinking
into a trough of mucky dirt the explosion had left behind. The shifting breeze filled the air with the scent of wild lilacs, a direct contrast to the rush of horror working its way down my spine. I took another step back. Not far, just enough to get some perspective on the situation, and bumped into Pierce.

“That’s a hand.” It came out a croak, so I cleared my throat. “You can see the bones, and it looks human.” I held my arm up, palm facing me, and curled my fingers in. “Yep. Like he was grabbing for something.”

A shiver raced under my skin, and I rubbed my upper chest—right about where I thought my soul might live.

Pierce nodded, reaching for his cell. “Better get Hayes out here.”

The shakes took over my muscles. “Why do I always have to be the one to find dead bodies? Why didn’t someone discover this sooner? Seriously, it’s been more than a year since the explosion, and I know law enforcement has searched the property several times.”

“That’s why.” Pierce had never been big on using more words than absolutely necessary.

“What’s why?” I shuffled the anxiety rolling in my belly aside, and squatted next to him for a better look at the arm, which was mostly covered with dirt and debris.

“Probably took time to work its way to the surface,” Pierce said. Then he turned his attention to whoever answered the phone, describing what we’d found.

I was stuck on the horrific idea that bodies could move around in the ground after they were long dead. Creepy.

Pierce tapped me on the shoulder. “You’re looking green. There’ve been a couple big storms. Probably shifted things enough to expose the body. Hayes is on his way.”

Heaviness weighed on my shoulders. “I’ve only seen the chief once since I’ve been back, and he hasn’t called me in to help on any cases. I’m not sure I’m ready for a face-to-face discussion about unidentified remains. On my property.”

“Hayes is in a tough spot with you. Adam understood your skills, no explanation needed. Any other detective would’ve required an extensive briefing.” Pierce, putting the truth in perspective.

“Yeah. I know I’m unexplainable to the average cop—the average person, really. But I’ve been so isolated since I sold the townhouse, and now there’s this.” I waved my hand over the ground. “No wonder Mitch hasn’t wanted me to leave the house.”

Pierce made an odd noise, like a pissed-off lion had been trapped in his throat, and then he jogged toward the driveway. My Prius was the only car parked there. “Hey,” I yelled after him. “How’d you get here?”

He pointed to the sky, winked. “Parachute.”

I’d forgotten how annoying he could be. Half the time I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me or telling the truth. I glared.

He grinned. Definitely teasing me.

No matter. I needed to put my fingers to work since my property had suddenly turned into a fresh crime scene. Gloves would be good, but since I didn’t have any handy, I wrapped my hands in a couple of the baggies. No point stepping on the chief’s toes by contaminating the evidence before they started to work on the case. And there would be no mistake about this. I intended to be part of the team. My property, therefore my dead body. He’d just have to find a way to handle it.