ones that I was never to touch, which they hid about the house. The big beautiful house with gold stairs and lights hanging from the ceiling and this cozy little house just for us.
I yawned. “Will you take care of me?”
“Till my very last breath,” Bepah said.
Nine
If, in ready-to-wear, a garment is manufactured according to standard sizes, the haute couture garment adapts to any imperfection in order to eliminate it.
—YVES SAINT LAURENT
I came back into myself crying again, and Nick had taken the ruffled dress away from me, like Paisley had done with the small cloak. Then he turned me in his arms and comforted me, with his lips and his hands in my hair, and soft words. Words that said I was treasured.
I wanted to lose myself in Nick but I had to focus. “Let me tell you what I saw this time so I don’t forget anything.”
He rested his chin on my head and listened patiently, or impatiently, but he listened. “Nothing I can add to the eighties Christmas killing search,” he said.
I accepted his handkerchief and wiped my eyes. He swooped in for a kiss but I dodged it.
“Paisley,” I said.
“I want to be certain that you’re okay first. Sometimes I don’t like this gift of yours.”
“You think kisses will tell you how well I survived the reading? I get that you don’t like my psychometric ability; sometimes I don’t either. But I’ve helped a few people with it.”
“More than a few. I’m not disputing that. Doesn’t mean I have to like it. You ended up at the bottom of a well, if I remember correctly, and a few other nasty places.”
I sat back, but not too far back. “So now you know how I feel when my guy’s on the job, seems to have disappeared from the planet, and could very well be dead?”
“Ah,” he said against my hair. “All the more reason to celebrate when we’re together.” Which he proceeded to do.
I accepted his kiss, and returned it, then I stood and pulled him up with me. But when I opened my bedroom door, we found a surprise, a note taped to it from Paisley. “Eve showed me how to lock up then she left. She says good night or good morning. Whatever. I’ve cleaned the kitchen and gone to bed. See you in the morning. And thanks. Paisley Skye.”
Nick checked his watch for the time. “I’m going downstairs to connect your computer to mine, put a search in for eighties, holiday killings, and/or kidnappings, using as much of the information you have from yourfirst reading as I can, and let it search all night, if it has to.”
I got ready for bed, then waited there at the door. It didn’t take him long to come back up. And the last thing I remembered was his hand shutting that door above my head, with his lips coming for mine.
When I awoke, I had only the imprint of his head on the pillow beside me to make me smile.
I threw on my robe and followed the laughter down the stairs.
Eve, Nick, and Paisley had made a marvelous breakfast, worthy of a Mother’s Day buffet. For two blinks, I was delighted, then I saw the clock. “The shop, the sale!”
“My mother helped you set up for the sale; she said she can handle it until after eleven o’clock mass when the hordes arrive, as she put it.”
“That gives me—”
“Two hours,” Nick said. “An hour for breakfast with friends and an hour to shower and dress.”
“Hah,” Eve said, “if she can dress in an hour, I’m a—”
“Redheaded monkey?” Nick suggested.
Eve grinned, took the lemon wedge from her saucer, and squirted him with it.
“Now, children,” I said.
“Okay, we’ll behave,” Paisley said, giggling.
“Good to see you survived your first night in the mausoleum.”
“No, I’m converted. I love the place. It was even nice to me when I cleaned the kitchen alone.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Did you know that you left the computer on all night?”
Nick nearly spilled his coffee, and set down his mug carefully, wiped his hand, and looked at Paisley. “You didn’t turn it
I yawned. “Will you take care of me?”
“Till my very last breath,” Bepah said.
Nine
If, in ready-to-wear, a garment is manufactured according to standard sizes, the haute couture garment adapts to any imperfection in order to eliminate it.
—YVES SAINT LAURENT
I came back into myself crying again, and Nick had taken the ruffled dress away from me, like Paisley had done with the small cloak. Then he turned me in his arms and comforted me, with his lips and his hands in my hair, and soft words. Words that said I was treasured.
I wanted to lose myself in Nick but I had to focus. “Let me tell you what I saw this time so I don’t forget anything.”
He rested his chin on my head and listened patiently, or impatiently, but he listened. “Nothing I can add to the eighties Christmas killing search,” he said.
I accepted his handkerchief and wiped my eyes. He swooped in for a kiss but I dodged it.
“Paisley,” I said.
“I want to be certain that you’re okay first. Sometimes I don’t like this gift of yours.”
“You think kisses will tell you how well I survived the reading? I get that you don’t like my psychometric ability; sometimes I don’t either. But I’ve helped a few people with it.”
“More than a few. I’m not disputing that. Doesn’t mean I have to like it. You ended up at the bottom of a well, if I remember correctly, and a few other nasty places.”
I sat back, but not too far back. “So now you know how I feel when my guy’s on the job, seems to have disappeared from the planet, and could very well be dead?”
“Ah,” he said against my hair. “All the more reason to celebrate when we’re together.” Which he proceeded to do.
I accepted his kiss, and returned it, then I stood and pulled him up with me. But when I opened my bedroom door, we found a surprise, a note taped to it from Paisley. “Eve showed me how to lock up then she left. She says good night or good morning. Whatever. I’ve cleaned the kitchen and gone to bed. See you in the morning. And thanks. Paisley Skye.”
Nick checked his watch for the time. “I’m going downstairs to connect your computer to mine, put a search in for eighties, holiday killings, and/or kidnappings, using as much of the information you have from yourfirst reading as I can, and let it search all night, if it has to.”
I got ready for bed, then waited there at the door. It didn’t take him long to come back up. And the last thing I remembered was his hand shutting that door above my head, with his lips coming for mine.
When I awoke, I had only the imprint of his head on the pillow beside me to make me smile.
I threw on my robe and followed the laughter down the stairs.
Eve, Nick, and Paisley had made a marvelous breakfast, worthy of a Mother’s Day buffet. For two blinks, I was delighted, then I saw the clock. “The shop, the sale!”
“My mother helped you set up for the sale; she said she can handle it until after eleven o’clock mass when the hordes arrive, as she put it.”
“That gives me—”
“Two hours,” Nick said. “An hour for breakfast with friends and an hour to shower and dress.”
“Hah,” Eve said, “if she can dress in an hour, I’m a—”
“Redheaded monkey?” Nick suggested.
Eve grinned, took the lemon wedge from her saucer, and squirted him with it.
“Now, children,” I said.
“Okay, we’ll behave,” Paisley said, giggling.
“Good to see you survived your first night in the mausoleum.”
“No, I’m converted. I love the place. It was even nice to me when I cleaned the kitchen alone.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Did you know that you left the computer on all night?”
Nick nearly spilled his coffee, and set down his mug carefully, wiped his hand, and looked at Paisley. “You didn’t turn it
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