ability.”
“Are you psychic, Mr. Anderson?”
From most, Nick would have caught the subtle sarcasm behind the question, but she was utterly serious.
He paused. “I would say no. It’s just something I can do.”
She turned and looked hesitantly over at Shelby, who leaned against her chair. “And you, Ms. Fontaine?”
Shelby smiled—the mischievous smile this time, the flirty “you’re kinda cute” smile he had loved so many years ago. “What about me, Ms. Carpenter?”
“Can we cut the coy bullshit?” Jackie snapped. “Just answer the goddamn question.”
Shelby frowned and sighed at Jackie. “Mr. Anderson and I . . .” She looked over at Nick for a moment, the smile not quite fading away. “We share the ability.”
Agent Carpenter’s eyes widened. “That’s very interesting, and rather unusual.”
Shelby shrugged. “We’re an unusual group.”
Nick wanted to laugh at that but refrained. It did not even approach the truth. Agent Carpenter looked hard at him, with that probing look he knew went beyond ordinary senses. There was little he could do about that. He leaned against the door frame, waiting for her response.
“Thank you, Mr. Anderson. Your cooperation is appreciated. Just a few minutes with your employees here, and we should be done. For now.”
“I’ll just get some coffee and wait for you all out here. I hope you can catch the guy. Truly, I do.”
Cynthia walked up now, and Nick would not be surprised if she had been standing in the hallway the entire time listening in. “They have a few questions for you, Cyn. Holler if there’s a problem.”
She nodded, mouth set firm. He knew she would not be put off by them, but the nerves were still there. “I will.”
Nick started to step around her, but Agent Carpenter stepped up to the door. “Thanks again, Mr. Anderson. We’re sorry to have interrupted your day like this.”
He sensed what she wanted even before her hand began to extend, and he gave her a fleeting smile before ducking around Cynthia and heading for the coffeepot. Not yet, Ms. Carpenter. You and I both know what you want to find out, and now is not a good time.
Chapter 9
After a fruitless twenty minutes’ worth of questioning that had Jackie ready to arrest the lot of them, she drove them back toward the city. Evening traffic had congested the roadways, but, thankfully, she and Laurel were going in the opposite direction. Some semblance of proper color had finally returned to Laurel’s face.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Laurel nodded again. “I’m fine, really. It just threw me for a loop, is all. Totally unexpected. I’m not even sure how to describe it.”
“You don’t have to,” she said. “The barfing spoke volumes.”
Laurel gave her a halfhearted laugh. “Sorry about that. Not good for the image, I know.”
“Screw the image. I was worried I’d have to call nine-one-one.”
“I’ll be okay, Jackie. A little sleep, and I’ll be good to go.”
“I’ll take you home.”
Laurel nodded, and they drove in silence for a few moments.
“So what does it mean? That it’s so overwhelming as to make you sick?”
“I honestly have no clue,” Laurel said. “Normally, when I try to contact the other side, it takes a lot of concentration and effort to just get a peep out of the spirit world. But when I touched Ms. Fontaine, it was like someone kicked open the door and bowled me over.”
“Then this whole ghost-hunting thing they claim? It’s not just a front or scam for something?”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I would say there’s a whole truckload of psychic power in that office back there. If anyone could claim to be able to track down ghosts, that girl could do it.”
“What about Anderson?”
“Maybe. I tried to shake his hand before we left, but he avoided touching me like I had the plague.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Why would he want to avoid that?”
“Keep his power a secret? I don’t know. That kind of
“Are you psychic, Mr. Anderson?”
From most, Nick would have caught the subtle sarcasm behind the question, but she was utterly serious.
He paused. “I would say no. It’s just something I can do.”
She turned and looked hesitantly over at Shelby, who leaned against her chair. “And you, Ms. Fontaine?”
Shelby smiled—the mischievous smile this time, the flirty “you’re kinda cute” smile he had loved so many years ago. “What about me, Ms. Carpenter?”
“Can we cut the coy bullshit?” Jackie snapped. “Just answer the goddamn question.”
Shelby frowned and sighed at Jackie. “Mr. Anderson and I . . .” She looked over at Nick for a moment, the smile not quite fading away. “We share the ability.”
Agent Carpenter’s eyes widened. “That’s very interesting, and rather unusual.”
Shelby shrugged. “We’re an unusual group.”
Nick wanted to laugh at that but refrained. It did not even approach the truth. Agent Carpenter looked hard at him, with that probing look he knew went beyond ordinary senses. There was little he could do about that. He leaned against the door frame, waiting for her response.
“Thank you, Mr. Anderson. Your cooperation is appreciated. Just a few minutes with your employees here, and we should be done. For now.”
“I’ll just get some coffee and wait for you all out here. I hope you can catch the guy. Truly, I do.”
Cynthia walked up now, and Nick would not be surprised if she had been standing in the hallway the entire time listening in. “They have a few questions for you, Cyn. Holler if there’s a problem.”
She nodded, mouth set firm. He knew she would not be put off by them, but the nerves were still there. “I will.”
Nick started to step around her, but Agent Carpenter stepped up to the door. “Thanks again, Mr. Anderson. We’re sorry to have interrupted your day like this.”
He sensed what she wanted even before her hand began to extend, and he gave her a fleeting smile before ducking around Cynthia and heading for the coffeepot. Not yet, Ms. Carpenter. You and I both know what you want to find out, and now is not a good time.
Chapter 9
After a fruitless twenty minutes’ worth of questioning that had Jackie ready to arrest the lot of them, she drove them back toward the city. Evening traffic had congested the roadways, but, thankfully, she and Laurel were going in the opposite direction. Some semblance of proper color had finally returned to Laurel’s face.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Laurel nodded again. “I’m fine, really. It just threw me for a loop, is all. Totally unexpected. I’m not even sure how to describe it.”
“You don’t have to,” she said. “The barfing spoke volumes.”
Laurel gave her a halfhearted laugh. “Sorry about that. Not good for the image, I know.”
“Screw the image. I was worried I’d have to call nine-one-one.”
“I’ll be okay, Jackie. A little sleep, and I’ll be good to go.”
“I’ll take you home.”
Laurel nodded, and they drove in silence for a few moments.
“So what does it mean? That it’s so overwhelming as to make you sick?”
“I honestly have no clue,” Laurel said. “Normally, when I try to contact the other side, it takes a lot of concentration and effort to just get a peep out of the spirit world. But when I touched Ms. Fontaine, it was like someone kicked open the door and bowled me over.”
“Then this whole ghost-hunting thing they claim? It’s not just a front or scam for something?”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I would say there’s a whole truckload of psychic power in that office back there. If anyone could claim to be able to track down ghosts, that girl could do it.”
“What about Anderson?”
“Maybe. I tried to shake his hand before we left, but he avoided touching me like I had the plague.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Why would he want to avoid that?”
“Keep his power a secret? I don’t know. That kind of
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