To Touch a Thief (An Everly Gray Novella) (4 page)

Jayne planted a hand on his chest and pushed, the soft cotton of his shirt warm under her fingers. He stepped back and shot her a grin. “I’m getting to you.”

“Yes, but now isn’t the time.”

“Depends on your perspective. Now seems fine to me.” The need storming behind his eyes was almost her undoing.

She turned on her three-inch Manolo Blahniks. “I have work to do. And besides, waiting is stimulating.”

FIVE

Everly Gray

I spent the morning searching
the Internet for information about séances, jotted down a few notes, and tried to remember why I told Mitch I wanted to do this. The pen dragged across the paper—a testimony to my reluctance. Whether séances worked or not, there was something disturbing about chatting up dead people.

Scooting away from my desk, I picked up the latest copy of Raleigh Living. Mitch had left it on my desk when he headed off in the small hours of the morning for a photography shoot at Bragg Air Force Base. Parker Steele stared back at me from the cover of the magazine—dark hair with gray temples, angled jaw, prominent cheek bones, and clear gray eyes. He was definitely starched enough to appeal to Jayne. The caption on the cover read: Philanthropist at Large.
 

I pushed my chair away from the desk, my determination evident as the legs scraped across the hardwood floor. It was the perfect time to practice my new role as a tongue-in-cheek medium. Five minutes, a long, multi-colored gypsy skirt, hoop earrings, and a wrist full of bangles later, I locked the door behind me and pushed the power button on my new Prius.

Steele Management, Inc. had offices in one of the newish, modern buildings in downtown Raleigh. I pulled into a visitor parking slot, checked the directory, and rode the elevator to the accounting department on the third floor. When the elevator dinged, I stepped into a plush reception area that was decorated in neutral colors and adorned with a huge vase of gorgeous, fresh-cut peonies.
 
I wandered over, stuck my nose in the bouquet, and inhaled.
 

“May I help you?” a disembodied male voice asked. He had an accent, but I couldn’t place it.

Reluctantly, I stepped away from the flowers. “Jayne Hunt?”

A slight young man stepped from behind an oversized reception desk and eyed me with distaste. “Have you an appointment?” It was nothing short of miraculous that the words escaped through his pinched lips.

I stifled a giggle. “Jayne will see me. Tell her Everly Gray would like to speak with her. Better yet, point me to her office and I’ll tell her myself.”

His gaze slid to the side, then returned to focus on me. He grimaced. “An appointment is necessary.”

I’d about had enough and spun on my heel, heading down the hallway before the reception Nazi could get a grip on my arm.

Jayne’s office wasn’t there, but I stuck my head in the corner suite and asked for directions.

“Three floors up, middle of the hall.” The rotund, pink-cheeked gentleman let out a chuckle after he answered me. “Whatever you’re seeing Ms. Hunt about, you’re going to come out the winner. You have moxie, young lady. Moxie.”

I winked. “Yes, I do. And I will absolutely be the winner.”

When I returned to the reception area, the irritating clerk was whispering madly into the phone, arms gesturing wildly. Apparently people didn’t wander unannounced into offices at Steele Management.

I half expected Jayne to be waiting for me when I stepped off the elevator, but no. It was a security guard. I whipped out my cell, dialed Jayne, and handed the phone to the guard. “Just tell her Everly Gray is here to see her.”
 

In less than a minute, he handed my phone back. “To your left and three doors down. Sorry for the inconvenience, Ms. Gray.”
 

Jayne sat behind a sleek wooden desk with an array of spreadsheets fanned in front of her. A spark of sympathy fluttered in my chest, but only for a moment. According to Mitch, she loved this stuff. Besides, it wouldn’t do to show a moment’s weakness in front of my potential sister-in-law. Not when she hated me.

I twirled into her office, doing a fancy spin that rustled my full skirt and jingled my bracelets, and then I planted my hands on her desk. “So what do you think? Do I look the part?”

Jayne leaned back in her chair and clamped her lips together, but a smile tweaked the corners of her mouth. “You definitely look the part,” she said primly. “The bigger question is—can you play the role?”

I dropped into an industrial beige chair, slipped off my sandals, and tucked my feet under my skirt. Tweaking Jayne was too much fun to pass up. “Yup, I can play the role. But only if you level with me. What exactly is going on here?”

She eyed me, her doubt leaking all over the room, and I knew she wasn’t going to tell me everything. But at least if I could read her body language, it would be an improvement over the gibberish she tried to pass off over the phone. She stood, pushed the door closed, and retreated behind her desk, hands folded primly on top of the spreadsheets.

“Parker and I are looking for someone who’s been transferring funds from specific charities into an offshore account. Whoever is manipulating the funds is skilled and careful.”

I turned my hand, came within a hairs-breadth of grazing the chair with my fingertips, then thought better of it and relaxed both hands into my usual light fists. It was an automatic protection posture to keep from picking up a bunch of images I didn’t want to see. “Doesn’t seem like a psychic fair for needy felines would be tempting entertainment for a felonious individual.”

Jayne ran her hand around the back of her neck, copying Mitch’s signature
agitated
move. “No. I’m working this from a different angle.”

I leaned forward and flicked a cream colored envelope from the top of a stack sitting on the corner of Jayne’s desk. “Uh-huh. Want to share what that angle might be, or are you planning on offering me as a sacrifice to the undead?”

Jayne stood, leaned across her desk, and jerked the envelope from my hand—but not before a very interesting image of her with Parker showed up on my internal monitor. They were definitely an item if the way he was fingering that bit of lace on her camisole was any indication.
 

“Not a sacrifice,” Jayne said through compressed lips. “The initial invitation included an RSVP and went to all of our regular supporters. These are specific invitations, including details, for those who responded, so I know exactly whose dead relatives will be making an appearance.”

Anger ripped through my chest then hardened into a cold ball. I slipped my bare feet into my sandals and pointed to the invitations. “Surely you’re not planning to feed me information about the dead relatives of those people before the event?”

Her mouth opened. No words.
 

I stood, slipped my shoes on, then paced Jayne’s office, my sandals flapping against the carpet. “Even you wouldn’t do something like that.”

She arched an elegantly plucked brow. “No. I wouldn’t. Would you?”
 

I spun, grabbed my handbag off the chair. “Forget it. Find yourself another psychic.”

She beat me to the door, blocked it with her lanky body, and glared at me. “We need to start over. From the beginning.” She offered me her hand. “I’m Jayne Hunt. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Everly Gray.”
 

My conscience prickled, but only for a moment. It wasn’t like Mitch hadn’t tried to tell her about my ESP fingers. I clasped her hand, and images shot through me so quickly they almost knocked me on my ass. How unseemly would that be? I’d touched Jayne before—when Mitch had gone missing—but that was a life or death kind of deal and her emotions were wild with worry about him.
 

These images were totally different. She didn’t just appreciate Parker’s body; she was completely in love with him. And she was afraid of me, afraid I didn’t love Mitch in the same way she loved Parker.

The tension evaporated from my muscles and I smiled at her, a genuine smile. It was a first, and it warmed my heart. I let go of her hand. “I love Mitch, Jayne. Exactly the same way you love Parker.”

She paled, grabbed the edge of her desk. “How did you…?”

“Mitch has told you about my gift, right?” I knew she didn’t believe him, had dismissed it thinking Mitch would “outgrow” me, but still... “It can be a bit unnerving for people.”

“Yes. I didn’t…” She hiked herself onto the edge of her desk—another trait brother and sister shared. “You really see things through your fingertips, then?”

I nodded. “Um-hmm. All my life.”

Jayne picked up the invitations, waved them in the air. “I need this to work, Everly. And if it means using your magic fingers, then I’m all for it.”

Her vote of pseudo-confidence rankled a bit, but I stuffed it into my “old news” file. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to bring law enforcement into this? Instead of tossing me into the mix?”

“Well, yes. But I don’t have enough solid evidence to back it up, and you know how they can be sticklers about evidence. That’s why we’re having the séance. And it’s why Parker and I aren’t concerned about the validity of it.” She wrinkled her nose. “But it’s imperative that these people show up, and that they believe it’s semi-valid. We don’t expect them to actually think dead people communicate, but we would like them to have a good show. Something to justify donations to Forever Feline and to cover the real reason for the séance.”

“Un-huh. Elaborate on that.”

 
Jayne’s eyes narrowed and her fingers worried the wrinkles on her forehead. “Okay. Obviously, Mitch said something about the forensic audit I’m doing.”

I nodded. Silent. Waiting.

Jayne snatched a pencil off her desk, fiddled with it. “The person we’re looking for shouldn’t bother with an affair this small, so I’m hoping the séance will clear everyone who attends and will eliminate all but a few of the suspects.”

I sighed from someplace deep in my gut. This plan sucked. “And you’re using me to help find the proof. Right?”

The pencil snapped in two. “All you have to do is lead the séance. Parker and I will take care of everything else.”

“If you back me into a corner, Jayne, I will touch you during the séance, and I will find out exactly what you’re hiding.”

“Be my guest.” There was a hint of dare in her voice, and then she dropped her head into her hands. “I’m going to have to get used to this. Your weirdness. Mitch isn’t going to get over you—” she peered at me through her fingers— “is he?”

“Nope.” I gave her my best innocent grin. “I’m here to stay.”

SIX

Parker Steele and Jayne Hunt
 

Parker Steele stood in the
doorway watching the two women. One tall and pristine, the other slight and vivacious. He searched for, and found, the scrap of pink lace that had taken over his thoughts since Jayne had left his office earlier. She belonged to him. Had for a while, she just didn’t know it yet.
 

He strolled into her office, probably strutting like some stag on the rut. It was that damn lace—and what was hidden under it.
 

Stay civilized, Steele. You’re in mixed company.
 

He averted his gaze from Jayne’s cleavage, and offered his hand to El. “It’s been a while, Everly. I appreciate you offering to conduct our séance.”

Her fingers curled around his hand, cool and tentative. Then she jerked them free and scrubbed her hand against her skirt. “Holy Mamma Mia, Parker. Way too much information.” She fanned her cheeks.
 

Those damn gifts of Everly’s. He looked down, stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets The expensive fabric pleated over his fists and hopefully covered his response to Jayne’s attributes. No go. The image of that pink stuff stayed front and center.
 

Time to man up. “I forgot about your abilities, Everly. Sorry.”

She tilted her head toward Parker and sucked in a breath. “Umm. Yes. Apparently you did.”
 

Jayne quickly stepped between them, glaring at El. “Exactly. Something we should all keep in mind. The invitations are ready for your signature—” she handed Parker the stack— “and will be hand delivered this afternoon.”

Steele took the invitations and then turned back to Everly. “How much did you see?”

A rosy blush colored her cheeks. “Let’s just say that your fantasy world would fit well in an erotic romance novel.”
 

Unlike Everly, all of the life had drained from Jayne’s face. Parker ran his finger down her cheek. “Surely that’s not a surprise. Or is it Everly’s abilities that frighten you?”

“Anything paranormal is suspect, isn’t it?” A bit of spark snapped behind her words, and her color was better.

He nodded. “Stop by my office when you’re done here, hmm?”
 

He turned to El. “And I’ll see you next week at the séance.”

“You’ll be attending?” Everly’s words hung sharp in the air.

“Yes. Of course. I fully intend to speak with my grandfather.” He winked.