Hidden Magic (3 page)

“I work for the sheriff’s office.” He set his hands on his waist and she caught sight of the black edge of a leather holster at his side.

She touched the part of her shirt that covered her scar, then immediately clasped her hands in her lap. How could she help the police when they might be after her for what she did to Jamal? Not that she’d made herself easy to find. She’d Googled not only her old name, but Jamal as well and had found nothing—no news clippings about him being stabbed or her being sought by the New Orleans police. No, she was being paranoid. But cops had always been the bad guys in her world growing up with a drug addicted mother. Their presence meant her mom was going away, and Lauren would be dumped at one god awful foster home or another where people would abuse her in some way.

But this man was local, Nell’s grandson. What could he have to do with something that had happened five hundred miles away?

She flashed on the young woman in her vision and a chill chased up her spine. Connecting with anyone in the physical plane on more than a superficial level was rare for her but she now and had psychic bond with Hannah.

Maybe she
could
help Hannah if Zander would give her more of a chance. “Why’d you come here? I got a feeling from that girl’s necklace but you don’t think I can help because…what, you don’t believe in anything beyond what you can see with your eyes?”

He snatched the photo off the table and put it away. “I’m doing my grandmother a favor, because she wouldn’t let up on me until I came to see you. Let’s just forget about it. I did what I promised my grandmother I would.”

She’d tried to steer clear of the law since she left New Orleans but she had a strong feeling that she could help him with his case. It was the right thing to do. How could she let him walk away if there was even a tiny chance she could save that girl’s life? But Zander had written her off so quickly, before she’d really had a chance to try to glean more information about Hannah Saxon. “Can I see her picture again?”

He scowled, staring hard at her, then finally shrugged and handed her the photograph.

She ran a finger over the image and felt an oddly familiar sensation. Did she know her? Or had seeing the teen’s picture broadcast over and over tricked her brain into thinking she’d met her? Something told her the familiarity ran deeper. A few times before, she’d psychically picked up on certain vibes during readings that victims of abuse unknowingly gave off. Maybe she was sensitive to it since she used to be one of them. She wondered if Hannah had been such a victim. “She grew up around here, right?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Sure. If you’ve seen Hannah’s picture on the local news, you must have caught the interview with her parents. They’ve played it a bunch of times.”

“Oh, right.” She picked her brain to remember. Yes, she had seen the interview. Hannah’s father was a buttoned-up business type and her mother had done nothing but cry the entire time.

Obviously Hannah came from a family that loved her, something Jilly had never had. “What are they like, the parents? I mean, beyond what we see on TV.” She handed him back the picture and he stashed it in his breast pocket.

“The dad’s holding it together but he’s pretty torn up. And her mother…” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Listen, I’m sorry to have wasted your time. I should go.”

She rushed to the door and blocked his way. How could she explain the sudden connection she felt to Hannah without revealing her own past? She found an unexpected warmth in Zander’s eyes and drew a breath laced with his piney scent. A pleasant ache settled low in her belly.

What the hell was going on behind his amazing emerald eyes? “I really want to help, Zander. What are you afraid of?”

He held her gaze for a long moment. “Afraid? Definitely not, just skeptical. Like you said, you don’t have any experience working on missing person cases and frankly, I’ve never conferred with a psychic to solve one.”

For reasons she couldn’t understand, Jilly didn’t want him to leave yet. “Can I hold the necklace one more time, just for a minute.”

He hesitated, then handed it to her, his skin grazing hers. A spark of heat spread out from the spot.

Rubbing the smooth metal of the charm, she shut her eyes and it was as if someone gave her a shove into another place and time.

Icy fingers clawed at her throat. The man was after her, his hands fisted at his sides, his face red and sweaty. He was holding something, a weapon. He was going to kill her.

Jilly tried to hang on to the vision but it dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, like steam in a clear blue sky. She opened her eyes. “I can’t see him, but there’s a man and he wants to hurt her. Or there
was.
I’m not sure.”

He widened his eyes. “You get if all that from her necklace?” He took the jewelry from her, examined it as if he’d find his answer there.

“Maybe if I could see and touch more of her things I could get a sense of how—and where—she is.” At his hesitation, she went on. “The occult is nothing to fear. Look, you came here to enlist my help, right?”

He rolled his eyes. “To be honest, no, I didn’t. If you know Nell, then I’m sure you’re aware her husband—my grandfather—is the mayor. The mayor is the sheriff’s boss and I work for Sheriff Van Horn. Frankly, I had no choice but to speak to you. Not only did my sweet old grandma beg me, but my boss
ordered
me to because
his
boss insisted. But I’ll tell you the truth. I’m not afraid of the occult. I just don’t believe in this…” He waved a hand through the air. “This stuff, any of it.”

When he turned to leave, she set her hand on his sleeve and felt his muscles quiver beneath her fingers. He spun around to face her. “What?”

She let go. “Give me a chance to help.”

His hesitation gave her hope. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need to make a call. It was…nice to meet you.” He shoved a twenty into her palm.

As he strode out of the store, Jilly silently asked the Goddess to bring him back, to convince him to let her help find Hannah. It was more important than staying under the radar as she had for the past year.

Unbidden memories filled her head. Herself as a teenager, alone and frightened with no one to talk to, no one to care. Had Hannah felt the same way?

I have to help her.

Now that she’d had a glimpse of the girl, she couldn’t just abandon her.

* * * * *

“Now what?” Zander muttered under his breath as he paced the parking lot. Why did she have to be so damn alluring? He’d always dated white women, but everything about Jilly was beyond sexy.

Christ, hadn’t he learned anything from his time with Andrea and then Nadine? The last thing he needed in his life now was a woman.

He should walk away, tell his grandmother he’d tried, but the psychic was of no help, just as he’d planned. Only Jilly had obviously hit on something and he couldn’t explain how. And how the hell had she figured out so much about his personal life with her tarot cards? Gave him chills just thinking about her accuracy.

But his bottom line was finding Hannah Saxon as soon as possible. If there was even the slightest chance she that Jilly could help… No, his logical mind wouldn’t allow for such a possibility. He had to just forget about this angle and move on.

Temples throbbing, he got into his car and phoned his grandparents.

“Parsons.” His grandfather’s gruff voice ought to belong to a man half his age.

“It’s Zander, Gramps.”

“Sandy? Sandy who? How’d you get this number?”

Zander inwardly smiled. “Gramps, it’s Zander. Put in your darn hearing aids.”

“Oh, Zander,” the old man said. “You need to enunciate better. How are you, son?”

“Listen, I went to see that psychic Grandma likes. That’s not going to work, though. Would you tell her I tried?”

“I figured it was a dead end, but you know how she is. It’s old fashioned police work that’ll solve this one. You understand how much pressure I’m under, don’t you?”

He understood perfectly. His grandfather was facing a tough opponent in the upcoming election, his first serious contender in his decade in office. The last thing he needed was to appear soft on crime, especially in the upscale neighborhood where Hannah lived, which formed a big part of his grandfather’s base. Zander’s first and foremost consideration was Hannah Saxon. “I understand, Gramps. I won’t let you down.”

“I have faith in you, son. That’s why I fought for the grant money to send you and the sheriff to the FBI Academy. Prove to the citizens of this town that you know what the hell you’re doing.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best.” Zander disconnected then sank lower in the driver’s seat and listened to his stomach grumble. Lunchtime had come and gone. He glanced at
The Black Cat Café
which sat only twenty yards or so down from
Mind’s Eye.
He’d heard their food wasn’t half bad, as vegetarian stuff went. What the hell.

As soon as he stepped inside it was as if he’d been transported back in time to the seventies. The booths were covered in bright turquoise vinyl and hanging macramé baskets overflowed with vining greenery he suspected was plastic. To his right was a small area with a sign on the wall advertising ‘Spiritual Readings.’ Most of the space seemed to be dedicated to the eatery part, though. He just hoped he could get something that resembled a burger.

He took a seat in a booth near the window. A slim, olive-skinned waitress approached him after a minute or two and handed him a menu.

“Hi there. Can I get you started with a drink?” She had a pretty smile, but she wasn’t half as attractive as Jilly Livingston. Whom he couldn’t get off his mind.

“Iced tea.”

“Herbal or green?”

Should have known they wouldn’t have any normal food and drink. “Green, I guess.”

As she strode away, he caught a glimpse of a woman in a black leather miniskirt entering the restaurant. Damn it. She was the one person he didn’t want to see—who happened to be the person he wanted to get to know more than anyone.

Jilly stepped inside the café, her head swirling with questions. Why couldn’t she quit thinking about Zander? No, it wasn’t him so much as the girl he was searching for, Hannah Saxon. She had to do whatever she could to bring the teenager home, get her away from whatever danger she was facing, though working with the police was probably a bad idea. What if they ran some sort of background check on her?

She’d covered her tracks well—changed her name to a combination of the first and last of her two best childhood friends, lightened her hair and cut it above her shoulders. Once she’d purchased a fake birth certificate on the internet the rest had been relatively easy. But since Jilly Livingston had only come into being a year ago, she had no history—no school records or credit score.

Now that she’d found a home in a spiritualist community, she’d hoped she could relax, quit worrying that Jamal would come after her. But lately every tarot reading she’d done on herself hinted that danger was headed her way. And then there were the dreams.

She crashed into Taryn, knocking the drink her friend was carrying right out of her hand. The hard plastic cup bounced on the wood planks and the clear green liquid splashed onto the floor. Jilly’s ankles and feet also got a soaking but at least Taryn jumped out of the way in the nick of time. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I was totally zoned out.”

Taryn grabbed a rag from a bus stand and started mopping up the damage. “No worries. I spill at least one drink a day. Everyone knows I’m a much better psychic than waitress, right?”

Jilly chuckled as she accepted a stack of napkins to clean the mess from her legs then used the extras to help Taryn finish drying the floor. “I hope that drink was unsweetened or I’ll be sticky the rest of the day.”

Taryn stood up and smiled at her. “It was that guy’s green tea, unsweetened.” She tipped her chin to her left.

Jilly followed her friend’s gaze to one of the booths and gasped.

“Somebody you know?” Taryn took the damp napkins from her and waggled her eyebrows. “Lucky you. He’s hot as hell. Go sit down and I’ll be right with you. I have to get him a new drink.”

Jilly’s face burned as she closed the distance between her and Zander. “Well, that was embarrassing.”

He skimmed his gaze over her as if he had no idea what she was talking about. Maybe he hadn’t noticed her klutzy move. “Miss Livingston. This is a coincidence.”

She took a seat at his table without waiting for an invitation. “Not much of one since we’re right next door to where I work. And I eat here just about every day.” Since he hadn’t objected, she settled into the booth. “Maybe the universe gave you a little nudge since it knew I’d come here and that you hadn’t given me enough of a chance to prove I can help you with Hannah Saxon.” She laced her fingers together on the tabletop to stop her hands from jittering.

“You wear smug very well.” His smile was irresistible.

Why did he have to be so damn good looking? She thought about raising the shield she usually kept around herself to keep people at bay but she didn’t want to alienate him, because of Hannah, of course. Had nothing to do with those broad shoulders or that sexy smile. “Does that mean you changed your mind?”

He flattened his lips. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

Maybe the universe was trying to tell
her
something. She’d instantly forged a connection to Hannah and she desperately wanted to help her, but she couldn’t deny Zander’s affect on her. Just sitting with him seemed to make her pulse spike. All the warning bells in her head went off at once.

Don’t trust him. Don’t trust anyone.

Taryn arrived with a fresh drink for him. “Want your usual, Jilly?”

“Just peppermint tea for now. Where’s Kendall?” It was rare to find Taryn waiting tables rather than doing readings.

Taryn rolled her eyes. “She called out and honestly, it’s been pretty slow. No biggie. Since I’m not making any money with my tarot cards today, I might as well earn something in tips.” She turned her attention to Zander. “The garden burger is on special today. What can I get you?”