Hidden Magic (2 page)

But hard evidence was completely lacking in the Hannah Saxon case—a missing sixteen-year-old girl he’d been trying to find for weeks. Resorting to a fortuneteller didn’t sit well with him but he’d promised his grandmother he’d at least speak to the psychic. She’d assured him if he wasn’t convinced, her interference would end there. So fine, he’d meet her medium—or whatever the woman called herself—then he’d leave and tell his grandparents he’d given it a try.

“I’m here to see…” He reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve the slip of paper where his grandmother had written the woman’s name. “Jilly Livingston.”

The clerk’s face brightened. “She’s with a client, but she’ll be free in a few minutes. Would you like to wait or make an appointment to come back? She’s worth it. She possesses some very rare talents.”

“I’ll wait. Thanks.” He spied a wide assortment of knives and other dangerous looking tools inside the display case and wondered what they were used for. They could well be the implements of sacrifices although he doubted they were. The Freedom Moon Spiritualist Camp had been operating in Freedom Bay for more than a decade. If they were into anything illegal it would have come to light by now.

The squeak of a door pulled his attention to the back of the room. A young, willowy woman in her twenties with shoulder-length brown curls followed an elderly woman into the main part of the store. “I’ll see you in a few weeks, Helen. Try not to worry about your sister. Everything will be fine.”

Zander clasped his hands behind his back as he stared at the exotic brunette. She wasn’t beautiful in the classic sense. He guessed she was half black or maybe Native American from her
café au lait
complexion. Her nose was on the pointy side and an inch-long scar extended from the end of her right eyebrow to her hairline, but her lips were plump and deep scarlet. She was thin but not skinny, with curves in all the right places. The left sleeve of her shirt was off her shoulder, revealing a black lace tank top underneath. And her breasts were full and ripe, just the right size to fit in his hands.  The woman who

His grandmother hadn’t mentioned what a babe she was. Maybe this wasn’t a complete waste of time after all. He licked his suddenly dry lips.

Her eyes were amber and slanted up at the edges like a cat’s. He forced himself to look away before he got lost in them.

Let that be Jilly Livingston.

Helen left as the younger woman slipped gracefully behind the counter. “Mind if I take lunch now, Eloise?” she asked the clerk.

“He’s waiting to see you.” Eloise tipped her chin at Zander. “This is Jilly.”

His pulse leapt like a jackrabbit on steroids. He cleared his throat as he closed the distance between them to offer his hand. “Zander Parsons.”

When she shook with him a white hot spark of awareness took him by surprise. Had she felt it too? He studied her eyes, searched her face for a sign that she had, but her expression gave away nothing. His first impression had been wrong, she
was
the most gorgeous woman he’d ever set eyes on.

Jilly took back her hand then gestured at the door she’d come through. “Right this way, Zander.” A soft, earthy scent followed her as she led him inside a small room with two overstuffed chairs and a table between them. A few candles and more of the same incense he’d but didn't noticed outside burned on a pedestal near the door. She sat across from him and picked up a deck of tarot cards. “What would you like to know?”

He could think of a million questions, but all of them were about her. What was that amazing scent she wore? How could her lips be so impossibly full? Did she believe in love at first sight? “Uh, I’m not sure.” God, had an idiot taken over his brain? He never got flustered around attractive women. Until today.

When she handed him the deck he noticed her hands—long, slender fingers, short fingernails painted black. He couldn’t stop his mind from imagining those fingers wrapped around his…

“Mix them and concentrate on whatever you’d like to ask.”

Good thing she couldn’t really read his thoughts or he’d be in trouble now. He took the cards and started shuffling slowly as he studied the silver pentagram charm hanging between her breasts. Could she be one of the witches of Freedom Moon Coven. He hoped not. A psychic was one thing, but a witch? Yikes. What did that even mean? Did they curse people? Dance naked in the woods under a full moon?

The notion of her dancing naked anywhere rekindled his lustful thoughts.

Maybe she was just playing a role, like an actress would. Could he fault her for trying to make a buck? She sure as hell didn’t look like any witch he’d seen in movies.

She wore little makeup yet her skin was perfectly smooth and luminous, the color of caramel. Her black leather skirt, fishnet stockings and spiky black heels made him think about doing wickedly erotic things with her. If he didn’t quit dwelling on her assets he wouldn’t be able to stand up when they finished.

“So was there something specific you wanted to find out?” The pink tip of her tongue darted out of her mouth to lick her lips.

“I want to know…” He was mesmerized. He couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth.

What would it take to get you to go out with me?

Not much knocked him off balance but she sure as hell did. He forced his focus back to his case, the reason he’d come. He handed the deck back. “You’re the fortuneteller. Tell me what my future holds.”

She gave him a wary smile then started laying the cards out in three linear formations. “We’ll start with your past.” Her frown gave him pause—not that he believed in any of this—but she was so much prettier when she didn’t appear so concerned.

He followed her gaze to a colorful card that read, “Temperance.”

Her eyelids shuttered for a moment, which gave him the opportunity to drink in her beauty. But too soon her forehead crinkled and she opened her eyes. “You had pain, lots of strife in your last love relationship, mostly over money you were giving to someone down on their luck. Your lover didn’t like that. You wanted to believe in her but she…she shattered your faith in love.” She glanced up at him and he caught a glimmer of tears but she lowered her gaze too fast for him to confirm that.

He thought about Nadine, how they’d fought about him helping his sister financially until the arguments had ripped them apart and she ended the engagement. Yeah, he supposed the whole thing had destroyed his dream. Damn it. He’d hoped the ache was gone forever but there it was again. “Well, I guess that could be sort of true.”

More like hitting the nail on the head.

But whose previous relationships didn’t end with some sort of discord? Just a lucky guess, although a very specific one. “What else?”

She flipped several cards over and appeared to study them. “You care very deeply about your family. And your work as well. Why do I see some overlap between the two? Maybe a family owned business.”

That was one way of looking at it since his grandfather was the mayor, and technically his boss. Or more accurately his boss’s boss.  And his father had been a cop, but he didn’t like to think about him. “Yeah, sort of.” Shit, how the hell was he supposed to concentrate with this gorgeous creature so close? He focused on the contours of her neck and shoulder, thought about how her skin would taste.

She pulled her fallen sleeve up into place. He had to wrest control of his brain but damn, it was tough to concentrate on anything but the woman’s assets.

Turning over three more cards, she grinned. “This is a very good one.” She tapped a card, a depiction of a man and a woman, each holding a cup. “A new relationship is coming your way.”

After Andrea and then Nadine, he’d all but written off the possibility that he’d ever find that happily ever after. He captured Jilly’s stare and his heart seemed to kick up a notch or two. “That wouldn’t have made me particularly happy yesterday, but today…”

She tore her gaze away and he was pretty sure she was blushing. Hard to tell since the room was so dimly lit. When she flipped the next card, her frown returned.

Three swords pierced a heart.

“What is it?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Probably nothing.” Then she took his right hand in both of hers and closed her eyes, which gave him more time to stare at her, something he wouldn’t mind doing all day. Her hair looked so silky as it grazed the top of her shoulders, one of which was bare and tempting as hell. “You work with rules and you have great respect for those rules.”

“Rules?” All he could think about was the feel of her hands against his. She had a firm grip and her skin was soft and warm. He couldn’t stop his imagination from picturing her running those long fingers and black painted nails all over his body. A wave of lust washed over him.

“Hmm. Maybe law. It’s not a family business. You work for the government, don’t you?”

Now she’d captivated not only his libido, but all his attention. “Actually, I do.” His grandmother must have clued her in on his life.

She furrowed her brow. “You’ve had a tough time lately, at work, I mean. Finding the answers you want. You love your job but you have trouble letting go of it when you’re off the clock, especially lately. It’s even invaded your dreams.”

Shit. How the hell did she know that? He hadn’t told anyone. This was getting a little too creepy. “I guess that’s true.” He took back his hand. Breaking the contact felt like such a loss.

What was up with him? Must be that Jilly reminded him how long it had been since he’d had a woman. But it was time to get her out of his head and on to the matter he’d come about. “Do you ever get impressions from objects?” He fished a silver heart charm on a black cord out of his pocket and handed it to her. The necklace had come from Hannah’s car, which they’d recovered from Gideon’s Pond a week ago.

Jilly examined the necklace then closed the charm in her palm and held it to her chest. “I specialize in psychometry.”

“Psycho what?”

She gave him a patient smile. “Psychometry. I pick up on vibrations left on objects by the people connected with them. Whose it is?”

“You’re the psychic. You tell me.” He folded his arms over his chest. This ought to be interesting. No way was she going to figure it out.

Closing her eyes, she rubbed the silk between her fingers. “It belongs to a very young woman.” She gasped, clutched the necklace in her fist. “She’s in trouble, grave danger.” She knitted her brow in concentration then suddenly opened her eyes and frowned. “It’s gone,
she’s
gone.”

Okay, now she definitely had his curiosity piqued. He leaned closer. He wasn’t fully onboard but maybe there was something to the whole psychic thing. “What did you see? Is she still alive?”

The inner edges of her eyebrows curved upward. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell. Is she someone you care about?”

“No, well yes, sort of. I
do
care about her. Can you see anything else?” Did she really feel something in the object? He couldn’t totally wrap his head around the idea of anything supernatural being real but how else would she know know Hannah was in danger?

She shut her eyes again and rubbed the charm between her fingers. Then she looked at him and shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t get anything else.”

Damn it. She hadn’t told him a thing that would help him find Hannah. Everything she said she could have gleaned from watching the news. Except that he didn’t tell her the necklace had belonged to Hannah. They hadn’t released anything about the find to the media. Had to be a lucky guess. She was probably a shyster, albeit a beautiful one.

He schooled the disappointment from his expression as he took back the jewelry and stood up. It had been worth a try. Too bad it was another dead end. But he’d known it would be. Worst part was he’d never get to see the exotic beauty again. “Thanks anyway.”

“Wait a second, who are you? Why’d you want a reading?” Jilly tried to glean Zander’s thoughts but telepathy wasn’t her forte.

Why had he let her hold that necklace? Whoever it belonged to had reached out to her, only for a moment. But in that instant she’d needed Jilly’s help. Desperately.

He fished in his coat pocket and took out a worn school photo of a teenage girl. Her strawberry blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her cheeks were dusted with freckles. Setting the picture on the table, he pointed at the teen’s face. “I thought maybe you could help me locate her.”

Jilly studied the photograph. Was that the girl from her vision? She couldn’t be sure. Her face was so familiar. Then she remembered—she’d seen her on the news. Might have been the same person from her vision but she wouldn’t swear to it. “That’s the girl who disappeared, right. Was that her necklace?”

His lips flattened into a tight line. “Hannah Saxon. My grandmother had an idea you could help me, but I don’t think you can.”

“Your grandmother?”

“Nell Parsons.”

Of course. The man had the same emerald eyes, the same square face as Nell. She couldn’t hold back a smile even though she was still quite shaken. “She’s a lovely woman, one of my favorite clients.” She mentally chewed on the connection between him and his grandmother and Hannah Saxon. A vague recollection surfaced of a brief conversation she’d had with Nell about one of her grandsons, whom she’d said she’d love to introduce to her. Was this some sort of weird fix-up? “Wait, you’re the cop?”

“You’re psychic, don’t you know?” His mouth curled into a grin. He was just as handsome as Nell said. But he’d come under false pretenses and she loathed being lied to.

She didn’t need her psychic gift to see what she’d missed earlier. His dark hair was cropped military short and his green eyes held an intensity she’d rarely seen in a man so young. She had few male clients and none of them wore a suit when they came to see her. Why hadn’t she realized before. Of course he was a cop, the last sort of person she wanted to be speaking with since she wasn’t really who she professed to be. But she couldn’t shake the connection she’d forged with the girl in her vision. Hannah was in trouble and maybe she was the only person who could help her. Hannah needed her. The gravity of that possibility sat like a concrete block on her shoulders.