“No, it’s changed.”
She stopped talking as if she’d said more than she wanted. Her hand covered her mouth.
“What’s changed?”
“Never mind.” She reached into her purse and produced a card. “Dolores is about to tell you she’s pregnant. If I’m right or wrong, call me.”
She bounced off down the street to an older sports car. He fingered the card as she drove away from him.
Grace knew who the caller would be when her phone rang.
“So she’s pregnant?” she said even though she knew the answer.
She walked back and forth from her dresser to a suitcase with the phone tucked under her chin. If the place was going to burn she might as well be ready.
“There are a dozen ways you could know that.”
“Name three.”
“You could work for her ob/gyn.”
“Not with HIPAA regs these days.”
“You could just know. Some women do.”
“I’m not an empath.”
“I’m out of ideas, but I’m sure there is a logical explanation. Just because I can’t think of it now does not mean it doesn’t exist,” said Zach.
“We could go around like this for days. Why don’t we prevent a murder? You need to find out who Dolores’ tenant is. I’ll bet his name is Mark Handon.”
“Whoa, I need more details before I go off half-cocked. How do you know this guy?”
“He’s a friend.”
“Then why don’t you know for sure he’s there?”
She hated to admit this. She didn’t want to think Mark had anything to do with her troubles. They’d been friends for such a long time. “He didn’t tell me, but I don’t know why.”
“Why would he kill Dolores?”
She frowned at her folded clothes, then settled on the bed. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”
She could hear his breathing and maybe even the wheels in his head, too. His hand was probably going through his hair.
“Are you free tonight?”
“I work.”
“A dinner break?”
“Not always possible,” she said.
“Where do you work?”
“I’m a medic for the hospital.”
“I’ll pay you a visit.”
“Our office is in the back, by the morgue.”
“I’ll be there.”
Not a date, but Zach would take it.
Something about Grace intrigued him. Maybe what attracted him was her combination of strength and fragility. Dolores was fragile, but only when she chose to be.
And lately Zach had been going for independent, strong women. Ones who didn’t really need him and his penchant for being a knight. Would Grace even let him save her? And from what did she need to be saved?
He never answered the question as he pulled into a parking lot beside the hospital.
A squat man with a day’s growth of beard lurked at the entrance Zach needed to use. He jumped when the detective walked up behind him.
“Looking for someone?”
“Uh, no.” The suspicious man walked away without making eye contact.
Zach found Grace in a bay stocking a plastic container that closed. Her hair fell out of her bun and her eyes had a tired tinge to them.
“Grace?”
She smiled when she made eye contact. The gesture lit up her whole face even while lines etched around her mouth. He probably would not have noticed her in a crowd, but she was pretty nonetheless.
“Hey.”
“There was a strange man hanging around outside. You guys might want to be careful when you go home tonight.”
“Oh, thanks. I’m almost finished here, we can go outside and talk at the picnic table across the street.”
“Sure, I’ll wait for you there.”
“Coffee?”
“No thanks.”
Minutes later, Grace shuffled over to him a Styrofoam cup in her hand.
“Rough call?”
She nodded then took a sip. “I’m losing my touch.”
“How long have you been a medic?”
“A decade.”
“Burnout?”
She looked past him as if the answer to his question lay there. “Not exactly. Maybe I just need a vacation.”
“Tell me about what you think is going to happen to Dolores.”
She took in a breath, then blew it out. “She’s going to be killed and I think Mark will do it.”
“Her tenant. Your friend.”
He wasn’t sure if her story could get crazier, but she believed what she was saying. “Look, Grace if this is revenge for some break up, I don’t want to be part of it.”
“We were never lovers.”
“Did you want to be?”
“No, but he does.”
“Does he know about your gift?”
“You don’t believe me do you?”
He reached a hand across to touch her. “I’d like to. Explain it to me.”
With half-closed eyes, she told him about how dead people talk to her. Murder victims and she has to save them. He’d never heard anything stranger. “And you’ve lived this before?”
“Yes, I’ve rewound here a number of times.”
“And have I been involved each time?”
“You believed me last time.”
He shook his head. How could he come to believe her? “What did you say or do to get me to accept this as true?”
“I predicted a storm and a baseball team winning.”
He chuckled. “I guess that would do it.”
Cars passed on the road in front of the hospital, but Zach couldn’t hear them on this side. The picnic table sat at one end of an empty parking lot used by the day workers.
He rubbed a hand through his hair, not knowing what to say. “Are you his accomplice?”
She flinched as if he’d reached out and smacked her. She stood, her coffee sloshing out of the small opening in the lid. “I think we’re done here.”
“Grace.”
He went after her, something compelling him to reach her to make her believe that he trusted her. “Stop.”
