Kipler extended his hand. 'Charles Kipler. We spoke on the phone this morning. I'm Celia Shore's manager'
Iris's expression shifted from confusion to tension. It radiated from her like an electrical current, making the hairs on Maddox's arms stand up.
She shook Kipler's hand and stepped back, sidling closer to Maddox. 'I didn't expect to hear from you so soon. I hope Everything is okay with Ms. Shore'
'She's doing very well. In fact, I just brought her here from the hospital. She's in her room resting, but she asked me to find you. She wants to talk to you.'
Iris glanced at Maddox. 'I'd like to talk to her, as well.'
'Good. I'll contact her and see if she's ready. If you'll excuse me.' Kipler crossed back to the desk and picked up the courtesy phone.
Iris closed her fingers around Maddox's arm. 'What should I ask her?'
He met her desperate gaze with surprise. 'I don't know, sugar. What do you think she can tell you?'
She lowered her voice. 'I believe she was part of Dr.Grinkov's focus group. If she can remember what happened to her, she may be able to tell me where Sandrine is.'
'I don't think she remembers anything.'
'Then I'll have to make her remember'
'How are you gonna do that?' He waved his hand in front of her forehead. 'You got some kind of special mind rays, you're gonna pull the memories out of her head?' His voice dipped to a growl. 'Maybe they taught you something in that seminar, huh?'
She grabbed his hand. 'Stop it.'
'I don't think she's gonna remember for you.' He squeezed her hand, 'You know, you don't have to talk to her if you don't want to. I can tell you're nervous about it.'
'I have to risk it.'
He cocked his head. She really didn't look forward to talking to Celia Shore. He just didn't understand why. 'You want me to come with you?'
She shook her head. 'No. It's okay. I'll be fine.'
He opened his hand, threading his fingers through hers. Her palm was warm and soft against his. 'You sure?'
She nodded. 'Positive.'
He started to let go of her hand, but she tightened her fingers, snaring his palm against hers, 'I'm sorry. Maddox.'
He frowned, not following. 'For what?'
'For what I said back there. About people warning me to stay away from you.'
He looked away from her earnest gaze, afraid of what he'd see in her eyes. 'Nothing to be sorry for, sugar. It wasn't a lie, was it?'
Her thumb moved lightly over his. 'No, But I don't have to listen to what they say.'
His heart squeezed, 'Maybe you should.'
Her fingers tightened. 'What if I can't?'
'All set.' Charles Kipler interrupted.
Iris released Maddox's hand and turned to Kipler, 'When does she want to see me?'
'Right now.'
Iris's dark eyes lifted, briefly meeting Maddox's gaze. He sent her silent assurances that she'd be okay.
She looked back at Kipler. 'Let's go.'
Maddox stood in the center of the lobby and watched her go, his gaze not leaving her back until she rounded the comer toward the elevators. He released a shaking breath, the feel of Iris's hand lingering in the flesh of his palm. The mess he was in had just gotten a lot messier.
Charles Kipler led Iris to the Hotel St. George's penthouse suite, where she found Celia Shore lounging prettily on a damask silk sofa in the living area. Kipler made the introductions.
'Thank you, Charles.' Celia said. 'That will be all.'
Kipler faded into the next room, leaving them alone.
'Please, sit.' Celia waved at the armchair next to the sofa. 'May I call you Iris?'
Iris sat. 'If you like.'
'Good. Call me Celia. Can I get you something to drink?'
'No, thank you'
Celia cocked her head. 'You look different than I remember.'
'So do you 'Iris threaded her fingers together in her lap. 'I was surprised to hear you wanted to see me. I can't imagine what for'
'I think you can.' Celia said with a cryptic smile, 'I wanted to thank you for what you did for me yesterday'
Iris looked down at her twisting hands. 'I didn't do anything'
'We both know you did. Don't we?'
Iris forced herself to meet Celia's gaze. The woman's expression was placid and sure. 'I don't-'
'You're a healer.' Celia leaned toward her, reaching out her hand. She clasped Iris's hand in her cool grip. 'I felt it yesterday, when you held my hand. That's what you are, isn't it? You're a healer, like me.'
Iris drew her hand away. 'I'm not like you.'
Celia's eyes narrowed, but she didn't respond.
'You're not a healer.' Iris continued, knowing she shouldn't say it aloud.
She should smile and pretend that Celia was exactly what she claimed to be. She needed answers from Celia, after all. But sitting beside the woman in this fancy penthouse, seeing the fruits of her lies, was more than Iris could take.
'I don't know what you mean.'
'Yes, you do.' Iris countered. 'You're not a healer You're just very good at leading people, and you're a good saleswoman. You know where to find a likely mark and what to tell them to make them feel better about themselves. And the camera loves you. You're perfect for what you do, but you're not a healer.'
Celia's placid mask cracked a bit, her lower lip beginning to tremble. She looked away from Iris. 'That's not a very nice thing to say.'
'It's not a very nice thing to do.'
'I don't know who you think you are-'
'I'm someone who can do what you say you can.'
Iris caught Celia's hand and squeezed tightly, opening herself to what the other woman was feeling. A dozen little physical twinges fluttered over her body, mere gnats compared to the monster of fear rampaging through Celia at the moment. 'I know your back hurts. You have a large bruise just below your rib cage. And you're terrified of what I'm saying to you right now.'
Celia jerked her hand away. 'I think you should go.'
'Not yet.' Iris leaned toward her. 'If you could really do what you say you can,you wouldn't advertise. You wouldn't want clients. You sure as hell wouldn't plaster your face across TV or build yourself a big, fancy Web site. Nobody in the world, no matter how good-hearted, would willingly seek out the kind of pain that comes with being a psychic healer.'
Silence fell between them.
Celia broke it with a shaky breath, 'What do you intend to do?'
Iris sat back again. 'Why would I do anything? People obviously get something from their sessions with you or they wouldn't come back. Who am I to tell them they're wrong?'
'Then why did you come here? To make me feel bad?'
'No.' Iris released a shaky laugh, realizing she'd probably sabotaged any hope of help from Celia.
'You want something from me.'
Iris looked at Celia. 'You are good at reading people.'
Celia's eyes narrowed with suspicion, 'I never read you as a blackmailer.'
