Hidden Magic (13 page)

Another whimper.

“I want to taste you.” He nibbled the soft skin below her jaw.

She rolled onto her back and he climbed between her legs. Lowering his cheek to her creamy thighs, he drew in a breath laced with her womanly scent. She opened to him and he took a moment to admire her glistening folds. The curly hair between her legs appeared darker than that on her head, but it was probably just a trick of the night shadows. He kissed her thighs and delighted in her pleasured moans as he neared her entrance.

He couldn’t wait another moment. She quivered and gasped when he licked her intimate lips. He spread her wider, stroked his tongue deeper.

Jilly grabbed at his hair, holding him to her. He inwardly smiled. She was enjoying herself as much as he. Sucking gently on her engorged nub, he started rubbing her cleft.

She wriggled and moaned, cried out for him not to stop. Her legs stiffened. He sensed her climax approaching. She gasped, her pelvis convulsing and undulating in rhythmic beats. “Oh yes, Zander, yes.”

He took his cues from her, cupping her then massaging and stroking, slower now as she rode her orgasm all the way home. She was even more beautiful in the throes of pleasure. When she’d recovered, he shifted higher in the bed so he could see her sated expression and kiss her lips.

She smoothed his hair back. “I need you inside me. Now.”

He sat back on his haunches. “Get on your knees.”

She did as he asked and he kneeled behind her and slipped on a condom. His balls constricted with powerful, primal lust. He took her from behind and growled with abandon as she clenched her innermost muscles.

Grasping her hips, he pushed deeper with each thrust, riding her relentlessly. He held back, desperate for release but wanting to prolong the exquisite friction. God, he could lose himself in her, in the sweet feel of her sex, the smell of her skin.

Her pleasured moans heightened his passion. Every stroke was pure bliss. Finally, he gave in to instinct and let go. Deep spasms of relief flooded him as he exploded in bliss, emptying himself inside her. His blood roared in his ears.

He collapsed against her back, gulping for air. Kissing the back of her neck, he smiled at her shudder. “You’re beautiful.”

He rolled onto his side, taking her with him. He’d never been one to easily give his heart away, but somehow, Jilly had already starting capturing part of it. He just prayed he wasn’t making a huge mistake, growing feelings for a self-proclaimed witch.

* * * * *

Slivers of orange light poked Zander awake. Jilly’s scent reminded him of making love to her last night. God, it was amazing. For the past two nights he’d finally dreamed about something other than finding Hannah Saxon dead.

Dreaming of Jilly—the taste of her skin and the sound of her voice—was a welcome change. And he wanted her again. He reached out for her but the sheets were cold. Peeling his eyes open, he sat up and frowned. A glint of something metallic sticking out from under the pillowcase caught his eye. He overturned the pillow and found a pocket knife. Same one she’d had in her hand when he entered the bookstore last night.

His gut clenched at the notion that someone had frightened her so much that she had to sleep with a weapon. He was going to catch the bastard who’d broken into the store, whoever it was.

The bathroom was dark so he headed to the living room and found her sitting on the floor by the coffee table, eyes fixed on the flame of a white candle. She was so still she almost looked like a mannequin.

Instead of disturbing her, he quietly padded back down the hall, took a quick shower then dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. The smell of fresh coffee lured him out of his room.

The living room was empty but Jilly was at the breakfast bar pouring herself some coffee. “I hope you don’t mind. I need a cup first thing. Pretty fancy coffee maker. I’m impressed. Want some?”

Her caramel skin was so smooth and clear and lovely. God, she looked gorgeous in his t-shirt with her hair rumpled like she’d just gotten out of bed. Made him want to take her right then and there. “Yeah, sure. I admit I’m a coffee snob. It’s my only vice. Although I could easily easily get addicted to you.”

When she blushed, he headed over, accepted a mug from her and took a sip. “You were up early. I saw you in the living room but you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to disturb you.”

She came around the bar and climbed onto a stool. “I’m glad you didn’t. I was meditating. And I think I might have come up with something for the case.”

He took the seat next to her. “Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I found her necklace on the counter next to your badge. Hope you don’t mind. I put it back when I was done. I tried to reach out to Hannah but I didn’t get anything. So I thought about any friends or confidantes she might have had and one thing kept popping into my mind.” She set her cup on the counter and faced him.

Despite the fact she was sitting there in his t-shirt and nothing else, he shifted his concentration to the case. “What’s that?”

“It’s a big open room with large bins and cardboard boxes. And there are a few cars outside, old ones with rust and dents on them.” She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. “I think it’s a place Hannah’s been, somewhere comfortable for her.”

He picked up Hannah’s necklace and pressed it into her palm . “Can you see any writing on the boxes or maybe an address on the building?”

She furrowed her brow. “No address. There’s food in some of the boxes, cans of corn and tuna fish, jars of peanut butter. And packages of baby diapers.”

Diapers? Where would they have diapers, food and old cars? The answer smacked him. “It’s got to be a food bank. Hannah’s mother told me she volunteered regularly at the one at her church.” He checked his watch. “Probably won’t be anyone there for at least an hour. I’ll be waiting when the first person arrives.”

Jilly got off her stool. “I want to go. Would you take me home so I can shower?”

He loved the idea of her washing up at his place. Hell, he’d help her. That conjured up a steamy picture of the two of them soaping each other up. But they had work to do. If he knew women, she’d want a fresh outfit. “Grab your things.”

It only took her a minute to change into her own clothes. He drove to her cottage and waited in her living room as she got ready.

The place was sparsely decorated with a cozy loveseat, a few dream catchers and a big bookshelf filled with the same sort of volumes he’d noticed at
Mind’s Eye
. He strode into the small kitchen and nearly walked into a rack of pans that hung from the ceiling.

The cop inside him got the better of him and he opened a cabinet. Three dishes, two bowls, a few glasses and mugs. She had no family photos or keepsakes lying around. It was almost as if she’d just moved in—or was packing up to leave. Was she so afraid of her ex-boyfriend that she wanted to be ready to run if need be?

If he ever encountered the son-of-a-bitch it’d be awfully tempting to put a bullet in his brain. He returned to the living room, called his office and asked to speak with his boss.

“Van Horn,” the sheriff answered.

“It’s Zander. I’m going to follow up on a possible lead at Hannah Saxon’s church. Anything interesting come in from the CSU about the break-in last night?”

He heard papers shuffle.

“No fingerprints. Perp had to be wearing gloves. We got a couple decent latent footprints though. Looks like a type of work boot. They’re still working on identifying it.”

“Okay, thanks. I had Lederman run a name through AFIS last night. He was supposed to leave the report on my desk.”

“Yup got it. Jamal Blanchard. Thirty years old, got his prints from an employment application with the New Orleans Fire Department. Who is he?”

Zander glanced at Jilly’s closed bedroom door, lowered his voice. “I’m not sure yet. But he might be a possible suspect in that break-in.”

“All right. Keep me posted.”

Jilly came out as he hung up. Her hair was still damp and a clean soapy scent surrounded her. He wished he could take her into that bedroom and make love to her all day but they had work to do first.

It only took them a few minutes to get to the Freedom Bay Baptist Church. Zander pulled into the lot in front but Jilly shook her head.

“Park around back.” She gripped the arm rest, sat on the edge of the seat. “This is it.”

The rear lot wasn’t paved. A sign that read, “Food Bank — Open Wednesdays and Saturdays,” hung over a set of double metal doors.

“Good. It’s open today.” He shut off the motor.

The lot started filling—with mostly beat-up old cars. A shiver snaked up his spine. Somewhere in the back of his mind he didn’t want to believe there was anything to Jilly’s supernatural gifts but how else could she have known about this place and Hannah’s connection to it?

Someone came outside from the church. A thirtyish woman with long braids, coffee-colored skin several shades darker than Jilly’s and half a dozen silver studs in each ear. She propped open the doors then disappeared inside.

People started getting out of their cars and making their way over. Most looked like migrant workers from the nearby farms.

“Let’s go inside. Maybe something will strike a cord with you.” He went to open her door. When he took her hand she met his stare with those smoky eyes and he couldn’t think of anything but how much he wanted to touch her. This was exactly why he shouldn’t have given in to his desire. But he couldn’t say he regretted it. Far from it. He’d just have to figure out how the hell to push his needs aside and do his damn job.

The room was just as she’d described. A row of long tables topped with cardboard boxes flanked each wall and large plastic bins filled with produce and bags of diapers sat in the middle of the floor. The only way Jilly could know how it looked was if she’d been there before and somehow, he doubted that a witch would have ventured into a Baptist church.

The woman who’d opened the doors seemed to be directing people as they filled grocery sacks with food. “Can I help you?” As she approached them, Zander noticed a plastic identification card hanging around her neck with her picture.

He flashed his badge. “Detective Parsons. I’m with the sheriff’s office. This is Miss Livingston. I’m investigating the disappearance of Hannah Saxon.”

Her features darkened. “That poor girl. I didn’t know her well, but she seemed like a sweet kid.”

“She volunteered here, right?”

She gave him a half nod. “A couple times.”

He glanced at Jilly as she ran her hand over the edge of one of the long tables, hoped she’d pick up on something, anything that would lead them closer to Hannah. She appeared to be watching the crowd with more than a little interest. Her eyes glazed over.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.” She turned to the older woman. “Were you close with Hannah?”

“No, not at all. Like I said, she only helped out maybe two or three times, organizing donations, helping some of the elderly folks carry bags out.”

Jilly looked up at Zander. “She was here a lot more than that.”

He read the woman’s ID badge. “Margie, is there anyone else who’d have worked with her here? Her mom told me she was a regular volunteer.”

She shook her head. “Just me. I’m here every minute we’re open. I saw her hanging around outside several times, though. Times when she wasn’t volunteering.”

Zander’s radar perked up. “Alone?”

“Sometimes. I think there was a boy she was friendly with. He and his father and brothers come here for food.”

“Are they here now?”

She glanced around the room. “I don’t see them.”

Damn. He took his notebook out of his back pocket. “Can you give me a name?”

She held up a finger then went to a small desk in the back of the room. They followed her.

Rifling through a spiral notebook, she put on the glasses that hung on a chain around her neck. “Here it is. Torres. I think the father and the boys work at one of the strawberry farms off Route 98. I don’t know their first names, sorry.”

His hand shook slightly as he wrote. This was his first real lead in weeks. “Do you have an address or phone number?” When she nodded, he gave her his tablet to write down the information.

They got into his car a minute later and Jilly squeezed his hand. “We’re going to find her. I know we are.”

His confidence was tempered by the very real possibility that Hannah was already dead. He couldn’t bring himself to mention that to Jilly. Not now when she was so excited. “I should take you back home. I have no idea what I’ll run into at the Torres residence.”

“Not on your life. I’m the one who got us here and I intend to see this through.” She squared her shoulders.

Growing up with older sisters had taught him that arguing with a woman like her was pointless. “Only on one condition. When we get there, you wait in the car. I’ll signal you if I think it’s safe for you to come inside. That’s if they’re even there.”

She folded her arms over her chest.

“That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.” He turned out of the church parking lot. “Tell me now so I can drop you at your place.”

After a long pause, she rolled her eyes. “No, I’ll do it.”

He stifled a grin. Maybe he was finally learning how to negotiate with a woman. He’d show her later how much he appreciated that she hadn’t argued for long.

Jilly shifted in the seat but she couldn’t get comfortable. Maybe sleeping in a strange bed had left her stiff and achy. Her stomach fluttered as she remembered exactly what they’d done in that bed. She’d stretched muscles she hadn’t used in a long time and her body was sore, but in a nice way.

Zander had been tender even when their passion had flared so hot. No man had ever seemed so concerned with her physical needs.

“I think it’s up this street. Remember what I said about waiting in the car until I signal you.” He glanced at her. “You okay?”

“Sure, fine.” But her unease grew as they traveled the unpaved road toward the Torres house. She pictured herself surrounded by violet light, concentrated on getting into her magical mindset and grounding herself.