Raintree Read online

  If Detective Malory started investigating him and uncovered more than she should, he wouldn’t be able to stay here much longer. So much for settling down. So much for home.

  He was either going to have to make Hope Malory a friend or get rid of her. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman who was easy to get rid of once she dug in her heels, and he wasn’t sure he could make her his friend. She didn’t seem to be the friendly type.

  Again Malory studied the living room with critical eyes. “There’s something odd about this place,” she said thoughtfully. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s very pleasant. You have comfortable furnishings, and nice paintings on the walls. Everything matches well enough, and the lamps didn’t come from a discount store or a yard sale….”

  “But?” Gideon prodded.

  She looked at him, then, with those curious blue eyes of hers. “The television is small and cheap, and the phone is an old landline. Most single men of a certain age who have a disposable income own a decent stereo. You have a boom box that any self-respecting fifteen-year-old would be embarrassed to carry onto the beach. Run of bad luck?”

  Luck again. How could he tell her that his electronic devices had a nasty habit of exploding without warning? He owned two more small televisions, which were stored in a spare bedroom, ready for the time when this one went, and he’d never had any luck with cordless phones or digital clocks. He couldn’t get too close to a vehicle that relied on computer chips, which was why he drove older models. On the rare occasions when he’d been on an airplane, he’d worn a powerful shielding charm that only Dante could fashion. He went through cell phones the way other people went through Kleenex.

  “I don’t watch much TV. Don’t listen to much music, either. Cordless phones aren’t secure.”

  “And you need your phone calls to be secure because…?”

  Enough was enough. Gideon rose slowly to his feet. He left his drink behind and crossed the room to stand near her. “Why don’t you just ask me?” he said softly.

  “Ask you what?”

  “Ask me if I’m dirty.”

  The alarm in her eyes was vivid, and he could almost see her assessing the situation. He wasn’t armed, at least as far as she could tell. She was. He had a small advantage, standing over her this way, but she had the gun handy.

  “Ask,” he said again.

  Her eyes caught and held his. “Are you?”

  “No.”

  Her alarm faded gradually. “Something here stinks to high heaven. I just haven’t figured out what, yet.”

  “It’s the money. People can’t believe that anyone would be a cop if they have any other choice.”

  “It’s more than the money, Raintree. You’re good. You’re too good.”

  He leaned slightly forward, and she didn’t shrink away. She smelled good. She smelled clean and sweet and tempting. She smelled comfortable and familiar. His fingers curled, as he resisted the temptation to reach out and touch her. Just a finger on her cheek or a tracing of her jaw, that was all he wanted. He kept his hands to himself.

  “I made my choice a long time ago. I don’t do this job because I have to. I have enough money in the bank to be a beach bum, if it suits me. I could get a job in my brother’s casino—” as long as he stayed far, far away from the slot machines “—or live at the homeplace, or just do nothing at all. But when my parents were murdered, it was a couple of detectives and a handful of deputies who caught the killer and put him away. This job is important, and I do it because I can.”

  He did this job because he had no choice.

  Her expression told him nothing. Nothing at all.

  She’s bad, Daddy. Very, very bad. Had Emma been warning him about Sherry Bishop’s killer? Or his new partner?

  FOUR

  Monday—10:45 p.m.

  She’d killed the wrong woman.

  Tabby was sitting in the back corner of the coffee shop, but she didn’t watch the riverfront beyond the wide window, which was busy on this warm summer night; instead she kept her eyes on the patrons and the employees inside. She wouldn’t have thought a place that sold coffee and cookies would be so crowded this late on a Monday night, but the small tables were filled with a mixture of both tourists and regulars, who drank decaf and munched on giant-sized cookies. Many of the regular patrons and the two young waitresses on duty sniffled as they reminisced about the deceased Sherry Bishop. Okay, so she’d made a mistake. At least she had the pleasure of soaking in the pain and fear in the coffee shop for her trouble. Last night’s exercise hadn’t been a complete waste of time.

  Until Tabby had seen the evening news, she’d had no idea that she’d killed the wrong woman. Satisfied and coming down off her natural high, she’d slept most of the day. When she’d awakened, she’d spent some time studying her newest souvenirs. One day she would learn of a way to use those mementos in a powerful working of magic that would give her the powers of those she’d killed. At the time she’d thought her newest victim was Raintree and therefore more powerful than the others, and so she’d touched what she’d taken with reverence and, yes, even glee. Everyone possessed some talent that could be taken, some gift that was wasted or ignored or undiscovered, but this was Raintree.

  And then she’d turned on the television to watch the evening news, only to discover that what she’d taken had not been Raintree at all.

  Who would have thought there would be two pink-haired women living in the same apartment? She sipped at her cooling coffee. Cael was going to kill her when he found out, unless she fixed her mistake, pronto. She’d been hoping Echo Raintree would be here tonight, so she could follow the girl to wherever she was staying and finish the job. But no such luck, at least not so far. The murder of both girls would raise a few eyebrows, she knew that, but what choice did she have? None.

  So far Echo hadn’t made an appearance. Not tonight. Maybe she was off somewhere crying about her roommate’s death, but surely she wouldn’t stay away all week. If nothing else, the funeral would take place in a matter of days. Tabby didn’t know the details of the arrangements, but that info would be public soon enough. There was no way Echo could stay away from her roommate’s funeral. It just had to happen this week.

  If Echo Raintree had a vision about what was to come and she warned her family, things would not go as smoothly as planned.

  The door opened, and Tabby automatically turned her head to watch the couple enter the coffee shop. Her heart skipped a beat. Holy crap. Gideon Raintree. Her mouth practically watered. She wanted Gideon much more than she’d ever wanted Echo, but orders were to wait. Killing a cop would cause too much commotion, Cael said; it would raise too many questions. Later in the week, when it was almost time, then she could kill Gideon. But not tonight.

  Tabby didn’t think anyone had seen her near the scene of the crime last night, but she was doubly glad she’d decided to wear the short brunette wig tonight. Her head was hot, and it already itched, but at least she didn’t have to worry about anyone recognizing her. She could relax, sit back and watch.

  Gideon and the woman who was with him took a seat in the corner, where they could see everyone and everything in the restaurant. They were dressed casually, the woman all in black, Raintree in jeans and a faded T-shirt. Both of them were armed, though not openly. Ankle holsters for both; no badges visible. Was this an official visit? Of course it was. They were searching for Sherry Bishop’s killer.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Tabby studied the woman with Raintree. Cael had ordered her not to take out Gideon just yet, but what about the woman? Was she a girlfriend? Cop? Judging by the ankle holster, she would have to say cop, but maybe the woman was both colleague and bed buddy. Something was going on. No fear or sadness radiated from the couple on the opposite side of the room, but there was energy. Sexual, slightly acrimonious, uncertain energy. Whatever the relationship might be, killing the woman would definitely sidetrack Raintree if he got too close too soon. It would raise a stink, though, which Cael definitely