Touched by Lightning [Dreams of You] (Romantic Suspense) (33 page)

He put his finger over his mouth and nodded toward the kids playing with the cars in the room. “Don’t tell anyone.” No one was paying attention to the guy in the gray maintenance uniform and cap pulled down low. “Santa’s getting ready to leave, but he’ll give you a car to take home.”

He pushed open the door and glanced in the storage room. It was crammed with boxes of merchandise. The Santa suit was hanging on the edge of a shelf, the sleeve making it look like Santa was standing just behind the last shelving unit. “Follow me.”

He walked in and waited for her to follow.

SNEAK PEEK: CHAPTER 2

Olivia Howe was having a hell of a time getting into the Christmas spirit even though she was surrounded by the music, crinkle of bags, and crowds doing their shopping. She refused to attribute her lack of Christmas mood to what had happened sixteen years ago. Sixteen years ago today.

She pushed away the thought and concentrated on her environment. The Waterfront area was crowded for midweek. No surprise since it was five days before Christmas and high season in the Florida coastal town. Palomera was trying to compete with nearby Sarasota to draw in both tourists and new residents. As it grew, so did the crime rate, something Olivia wasn’t pleased to hear. Growth was a frequent topic of debate on the news. The increase of construction had brought an influx of transient workers. Olivia was glad she lived in the insular Waterfront area—except during season when everyone flocked to the upscale shopping area. People especially loved the Waterfront’s mix of quaint shops, cafes, office buildings, and apartments all laid out along a slice of water that lead to the Gulf of Mexico.

She felt arms brush against her, everyone in a hurry. She knew this route well enough to manage it on her own, though Anastasia steered her around obstacles such as people not paying attention to where they were going or café tables in the foot traffic path. People commented on Stasia’s gentle beauty, but her looks didn’t matter. What did matter was her silky fur, her velvety tongue that gave Olivia loving kisses, and Stasia’s devotion. Stasia wasn’t only an Australian Shepherd, wasn’t only her guide dog; she was her best friend.

Olivia sensed the alley between her building and the next by the hollow echo of her footsteps. The rich scent of coffee signaled she was at the end of that building. Another alley echoed to her left, and then the music store pumping the Beatles into the crisp afternoon signaled she was nearly at the Edgewater. The scent of popcorn drifted from the twenty-theater complex situated in the circular building with a courtyard in the middle. When she had moved back to Palomera last year from Columbus, Ohio, she had made a point to learn the layout of the stores near her apartment. Now she followed the map in her mind.

Stasia stopped at the intersection, though Olivia could tell by the sound of traffic that it wasn’t safe to cross. When the light changed, Stasia weaved through the oncoming people. Once they were on the other side of the divided highway, she waited for an indication of direction. Olivia turned left.

The buildings here were mostly high-end stores and novelty boutiques. In December, Toyland turned their front entrance into a Christmas wonderland, or so she’d heard. It sure sounded like something special from the squeals of the children, the mechanical drone of animated characters, and the classic holiday music that flowed from speakers. It had been a long time since she’d seen the singular beauty of an ornament sparkling from the lush green of a tree. It had been a long time since she’d seen much of anything, but she could still imagine imitation snowmen and sparkling lights. She tried to remember when Christmas meant innocent fun in a safe world, before….

She pushed the thought from her mind.

People continued to brush by her, some murmuring an apology. The cool breeze that blew her long hair into her face held hints of fresh perfume, coats permeated with stale cigarette smoke, and baking bread from the grocery store beyond.

The jaunty “Here Comes Santa Claus” punctuated the distance she felt from the world. Children laughed, people continued on to wherever they were going, others talked about their enormous gift lists as they wearily headed toward the melee inside the store. Olivia felt as though she were floating through the world in a bubble.

“Look, mommy, a doggie!” a child’s voice called in delight.

“Don’t go over, Kinsey. That’s a Seeing Eye dog. The lady’s blind.”

Olivia knelt down and looked in the girl’s direction. “You can pet Stasia. She loves children. Only pet a guide dog if you get permission first, though.”

“She’s beautiful,” Kinsey said with awe in her voice. Her hand brushed Olivia’s hand as she stroked Stasia.

“How old are you?” Olivia asked.

“Almost eight,” Kinsey said with obvious pride. “Are you really blind?”

Olivia nodded. “Stasia is my sight.”

Seven years old. When the world was grand and benign. What would be the defining event that would shatter Kinsey’s belief? It had to happen. Hopefully not in the way it had happened to Olivia.

“Does she take you where you want to go? Like if you wanted to go to McDonald’s, would you just tell her that and she’d take you there?”

Olivia laughed. “No, she’s not my chauffeur. I have to know—”

“Kinsey, get away from the dog!” the mother said, and Olivia could hear the child being yanked away. Kinsey’s whines followed her down the sidewalk.

Warmth flooded Olivia’s face as she reassured Stasia with loving strokes. “It wasn’t you,” she whispered. “It was me.”

Did her inability to make eye contact create that much of a wall around her? Was it her blindness that made people shy away or did they sense her difference went much deeper?

There were things about being blind she would never get used to. She didn’t mind losing some of her independence, or even the devices that made living independently easier. She hated working so hard to remember what the world looked like and the fear that if she didn’t, everything she’d ever known would disappear and leave her in a black void. She missed books and movies and sunsets. She hated the wall her blindness erected between her and the world. She hated that most of all.

Stasia licked her chin, bringing Olivia out of her thoughts. Olivia pushed to her feet and hoped the dull ache in her chest wouldn’t linger as long as it sometimes did after she’d been snubbed. Don’t go over, Kinsey. That’s a Seeing Eye dog. The lady’s blind. There’s something wrong with her. If you stand too close, it might rub off on you. Some of that tragedy or strangeness might taint you. Get away from her now.

“Forward,” she commanded Stasia.

They continued on to the bookshop two stores past Toyland. Books made great gifts, particularly for people she didn’t know well. Unfortunately, the few people in her life fell into that category. The one person she was close to didn’t always remember who she was. Alzheimer’s was eating away her father’s memory like acid, layer by layer.

As she headed toward the store’s entrance, she heard her name. She jumped when a hand touched her shoulder. Her heart didn’t stop racing when she recognized his Polo cologne.

Okay, she could scream if she needed help. Someone would help her…right? “Terry, you’re not supposed to be here.”

His hand tightened on her shoulder. He kept his voice low enough so that only she could hear it. “You can’t just push me away like this.”

She shrugged out of his grip. “You have got to let this go. It’s over.”

“It’s not over, Olivia. I’m trying to give you space, but it’s hard.” She heard his rushed inhalation. “It’s damned near impossible. And now you’ve gone too far. A restraining order, for God’s sake?”

Her throat tightened. “I didn’t want to do it, but I didn’t know what else to do. Please, Terry, leave me alone. Don’t hang around in the hallway outside my door. Don’t even come to my building. I’m…I’m not who you think I am.” She turned away from him so fast, she bumped right into someone. “I’m sorry,” she said, to both that someone and to Terry. She had to take some of the blame. Probably she deserved every bit of agony he was now putting her through. That didn’t make it any easier to handle.

“Hup up,” she told Stasia, urging her to go faster.

She walked into the bookstore, relieved that he hadn’t seemed to have followed her. The aroma of cinnamon-dusted cappuccino floated from the café on the right. Children ah’d and ooh’d over Stasia, and their mothers ushered them along in voices strained with impatience. “Can I help you, ma’am?” a young man asked. He’d recently had coffee and a cigarette.

“I’m looking for a book on Salvador Dali, something an admirer wouldn’t already have.” She’d heard Sebastian talk endlessly about melting clocks and warped women and thought he’d enjoy a book on the artist.

“Ah, I think we have exactly what you want. We just got a perspective on Dali’s sexuality and possible psychoses. Some of the girls were giggling about it when it came in. Follow me.” He faltered. “Do I…should I…?”

She reached for his arm and smiled, hearing his quick breath of relief “Lead the way.”

He led her through the store, Stasia heeled close at Olivia’s side. Olivia lifted her head and inhaled the comforting smell of paper, binding, and wood shelving. She pictured bookcases finished in rich, dark varnish and all those colorful book covers inviting her to peek inside. She missed going to bookstores and libraries and searching for literary treasures.

“It must be wonderful to work in a book store,” she said. “I can imagine the neat, obscure titles you come across while stocking and rearranging.”

“Uh, actually, I don’t read much. Other than my college textbooks.”

Didn’t read? But he could read! She wanted to shake him. You can pick any book you want. You aren’t limited to the titles available on Braille or tape. She had escaped into books since she could read. Her father teased her about how much time she spent curled up in the window seat with a book. He forgot that there weren’t many children in their gated neighborhood. Newgate Manor was populated with people who had already sent their children off into the world. Most of her parents’ contemporaries had had grandchildren Olivia’s age.

“What are you studying?”

“Forensic science. Kinda morbid, huh?” he said at the same time that she said, “Not really. Someone’s got to do it, right?”

“How’d you know I was going to say it was morbid?”

She shrugged. “Just a lucky guess.”

She’d had those kinds of guesses for as long as she could remember; guesses, hunches, feelings about things; blessing people before they’d sneezed and responding to questions before they’d been asked. Olivia’s grandmother Dorothea had been delighted that she’d inherited her “gift.” Olivia’s mother had felt much differently about it. So had many others in her life. There was a time when a slip like the one she’d just had would have mortified her. Nowadays she just downplayed it and let it go.

They came to a stop somewhere in the rear of the store, she guessed. “We have two books that might suit you, actually. You can look…” He gave a nervous laugh as he pressed the book into her hands. “Uh…”

“Tell me what’s in it.” She gave him a reassuring smile. He obviously hadn’t dealt with many blind people. She, on the other hand, had plenty of experience.

He described the number of pages and quality of color pictures inside and then gave her an overview of the second book.

“I’ll take the first book.” She suspected Sebastian would appreciate the sexual aspect.

“Great. Anything else?”

She’d already bought something for her friend Judy, and she’d made a painting for her father. The rest of her family was so distant, both geographically and relationship-wise, they didn’t warrant shopping for. “That should do it.”

This time he easily placed her hand on his arm and guided the way to the sound of beeping registers.

“Here’s the line,” he said, coming to a stop and releasing her. “Shouldn’t be long.”

“Thank you.”

She expected him to leave, but he remained close by. “Line’s moved up,” he said a minute later, guiding her two steps forward.

Her mind searched for anything else she might need while she was in the bookstore. Not out of practicality, she realized, but a desire to continue this pleasant exchange with the young man. A connection, even though he was paid to be pleasant. There were people who would be surprised at her need to reach out. But this young man was safe to reach out to.

She pressed her watch. “11:03,” the computer tone said. It would be getting even busier soon.

“How do you pay for stuff?” he asked, and then hastily added, “I’m sorry. I was just curious. Was that a rude question?”

“No, not at all. Most of the time I use a credit card.”

“But with money…how do you know what’s a five dollar bill versus a one dollar bill? With change it’s easy to tell the difference, but I always wondered how blind people managed with cash.”

“I have a contact at the bank who folds my bills for me. Fives are folded in half; tens are in quarters; twenties in thirds and ones aren’t folded at all. I never carry anything larger than a twenty. There are machines that read money and tell you what denomination it is, though this is way simpler.”

“You’re up, ma’am,” he announced and guided her forward.

She grimaced at the word ‘ma’am’ even though she knew he was only being polite. Twenty-four was too young to be called ma’am. “Thanks for your help,” she said as the cashier rang up the book.

Just as Olivia signed her credit card slip, a trill of alarm shot through her. She knew this feeling, yet it was stronger this time. So strong, it overwhelmed her. She gasped and drooped against the counter. The pen hit the floor with a clatter.

Alarm seized her again, this time accompanied by jarring images: a storage room, the flash of a man’s face, a sign over a door. She heard someone say, “He’s got her. Oh, God, he’s got her,” and only a few seconds later realized it was she who had said the words.

Fear, panic, and an awful smell rushed through her senses before everything went black. She struggled for breath as pain stabbed her temples. Stasia put her paws on Olivia’s legs. The pain slowly receded, allowing voices through the fog.