Deceptions (The Mystical Encounter Series Book 2) by Kimberly Readnour Page B

to a chair in front of a maple desk. Rather large in size, the desk consumed most of the room. He sat down and straightened himself, eyeing the broody man as he sat in the ergonomic black chair behind the desk. Leaning back, Nicholas crossed his legs. There was a familiarity about the place like he’d been there before.
    “You’ll like this week’s haul,” the guy said. He opened a drawer and pulled out a gallon–sized baggie of a darkened, leafy substance‌—‌marijuana. “This should bring a big score. I’ll expect payment in week. Don’t be late,” he said sternly, tossing the bag toward Nicholas.
    After a quick examination of the contents, Nicholas stashed the drugs in a tote he carried. “No problem, Paul. I’ll see you next week with the money.” With a nod, he waited for Paul to unlock the door. Nicholas lowered his baseball cap over his eyes and exited the bar, clearly in a rush to escape. Stepping onto the sidewalk, he glanced at the tall buildings lining the street. As soon as he turned the corner, everything went dark.
    I snapped out of the vision and my surroundings came into focus. With a scan of the room, my anxiety swelled when I saw the five pairs of expectant eyes staring at me. The room suddenly became warm, knowing they expected answers. Mr. Canter opened his mouth to speak, but Detective Tanner quickly interrupted.
    “Did you see anything of importance?” Tanner asked. He seemed to sense my discomfort.
    I shook my head. “Not really. I just saw Nicholas having a good time with a few friends. There wasn’t anything significant that could pinpoint where he might be.” I’m not sure why I lied, but I knew I couldn’t divulge Nicholas’s drug dealings to his father. Besides, there were too many people in the room, including the chief of police, whom I had yet to trust. I’d tell Tanner the truth once we were alone in his car.
    I glanced at Mr. Canter right as his face dropped, exposing his defeat. “I’m sorry Mr. Canter,” I said sincerely. “Is there anything else he would have a personal attachment too?”
    He thought for a second, then said, “I’ll be right back.”
    When Mr. Canter reentered the room, my eyes bulged and I swallowed hard. He was holding a hunting rifle‌—‌or was it a shotgun? Was there a difference? I had never had to deal with guns, so I didn’t know much about them. Truthfully, they intimidated the heck out of me. Does this gun have a safety? If so, I hoped that Mr. Canter had engaged it. “Here, maybe this will help,” Mr. Canter said, handing it over to me.
    My gaze connected with Tanner’s, and without hesitation, he shifted toward Mr. Canter. “Here, let me give it to her,” he said authoritatively. “Heather, this is a Winchester M94. Right here is the safety, which is on, but I want you to hold one hand on the stock…‌” He placed his left hand on the wooden end. “Then place your other hand on the fore–stock. Okay?”
    The quick explanation alleviated my fear of handling it. At least I wouldn’t fire accidently. As he stretched his arms out to hand the gun to me, I took care to keep my hands away from the trigger. When my fingers wrapped around the polished wood, images of trees came into view…‌
    Nicholas’s heart raced as he walked along a gravel road beside his father. He visualized the doe as he recounted to his father his failed attempt to shoot it. The doe stood about 250 yards away, slightly out of range of his aim, but he knew he had grazed the deer by her reaction. He felt like a master marksman for achieving that shot with such a difficult trajectory. He knew the shot shouldn’t have been taken, but the thrill of being able to shoot something became overpowering‌—‌it had been the only game he’d seen all day. Turning down a narrow driveway, a log cabin came into sight…‌
    I paused to catch my breath. The vision was short, or perhaps the memory was, and it didn’t add anything new. Mr. Canter stood tall