He raised both eyebrows.
She just smiled.
He shook his head. He got the idea. She didn’t talk about her readings.
“I’ll get back to work. Sing out if you need me,” he said.
“I will. Thanks,” she added gently. “For taking care of us.”
“I’m just working the perimeter.” He laughed. “I don’t think you’re really in any danger, either of you. I think he’s just pulling Dalton’s strings, making him dance.” His eyes went cold. “He’s a piece of work, this guy, whoever he is.”
“I wish we knew why he’s targeting Dalton,” Merissa said worriedly.
“No idea?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “I can’t see things that closely. In this case, I wish I could!”
He nodded. He left her to her thoughts.
LATER IN THE day, Merissa had a phone call. “Tough luck. About your father, I mean,” a voice with a thick Cockney accident said.
“Who is this?” she demanded, but she knew. It was obvious. “Why did you send him here?” she added.
“If your boyfriend had stayed away, your father might have solved a problem for me.”
“What problem?” She was looking out the window, wishing Carson would come in.
“I don’t want you telling Dalton anything else. I don’t want you warning him, Witch Woman,” he added in a cold, merciless voice.
“You can’t stop me unless you kill me,” she said angrily.
“I don’t have to threaten you. There’s always mommy.”
Her heart stopped. Clara had driven into town to shop. “What have you done to her?” she exclaimed, terrified.
“Relax. She’s safe. At least, for today.” He paused. “I want you to stop reading Kirk’s future. You tell him anything else, about me, about the past, and your mother will pay for it, do you understand me?”
She swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“I’ll know. Your boy Rourke may have removed all the bugs, but I have a couple he won’t find.”
“There’s someone else,” she told him in the monotone she employed when she was reading someone, when she touched some nebulous force that supplied her with intelligence that came from God knew where. “Someone who knows all about you. You think he’s dead, but he’s not, he’s...” She shut up quickly. “Even if you kill Dalton, the other man will tell. Men are looking for him right now.”
“Which men? Where?” he demanded.
She blinked. “I don’t know,” she said. Her voice was racked with pain. “It’s not like reading a book or watching a movie. I just get feelings, impressions.” She hesitated. “You should go away right now, while there’s time,” she said huskily. “I can see your future. If you were a friend, and I was reading for you, I wouldn’t even tell you, it’s so horrible...”
“That’s just pathetic,” he spat. “You think I believe all that hoodoo? It’s just made up things!”
“If you truly believe that, then why do you want me to stop telling Dalton things?” she asked reasonably.
There was a pause. Carson walked in and she gestured at the phone frantically, hoping he’d understand.
He was quick. He went into her office.
“I don’t believe it,” the man on the phone said angrily.
“Neither does Dalton,” she assured him.
“Sure. But you warned him I was after him,” he replied. “You knew.”
“Yes, I knew, but I don’t know why and neither does Dalton! What do you want?”
There was a pause, as if she’d surprised him with the sincerity in her tone.
“Well?” she persisted. “You’re targeting a man for something that he doesn’t even know,” she said angrily. “It’s the other man you’d better worry about. He knows you...”
This time there was an intake of breath. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said to himself. “I know who you’re talking about. Thanks, kid. I’ll take care of that little problem right away!”
He hung up.
Merissa stared at the phone with horror. She’d sent him out to kill a man by telling him about his future. She didn’t know who the man was, she couldn’t warn him. Whoever it was, he was going to die because of her!
Carson came in, hesitating.
She looked at him with horror as she hung up the phone.
“I’ve got a trace on the call,” he told her. “What did he say?”
“I told him that he had another man to worry about instead of Dalton, a man who knew him and would tell what he knew. I don’t know who it is, but he’ll die because of me!” she moaned. “I’ve killed him!”
Carson moved closer. “You haven’t,” he assured her. His black eyes narrowed. “Did he threaten you?”
“He threatened my mother,” she said miserably. “He says if I tell Dalton anything else he’ll know it. He says Rourke didn’t find all the bugs...”
He held up a hand and motioned her outside.
“Yes, Rourke did,” he said deliberately. “The man lied to you. He can’t hear what’s going on in here. It’s perfectly safe to talk.”
“You’re sure?” she replied, playing along.
“Positive. Come here a minute, I want you to look at something.”
She followed him off the porch and out into the yard.
“I’ll get Rourke over here to do another sweep,” Carson assured her.
“But what about the man...?”
“We’ll try to find him,” Carson said. “I’ll make some phone calls. It’s not your fault. You were trying to save your mother.”
She looked world-weary. “I’m so tired of all this,” she said. “Will it ever end?”
“Yes, it will. I promise you, it will.”
She smiled sadly. She wasn’t convinced.
CLARA CAME HOME and Merissa spoke to her in the yard, telling her what had happened in her absence.
“Maybe we should move in with the Kirks,” Clara said worriedly.
“It’s Christmas day after tomorrow,” Merissa said softly. “I don’t want to impose on their family that way. We’re going to be all right,” Merissa promised. “I know it’s scary, but I trust Carson. He’s a good man.”
“He’s a very odd man.” Clara laughed. “But if you trust him, I will, too.” She hugged the younger woman. “My poor baby. It’s been such a traumatic few weeks. We should look forward to spring. I mean, we always get good times after bad ones. Don’t we?”
Merissa nodded. She sighed. “I hope so.”
“We won’t say anything in the house that concerns Dalton or spies or bugs or anything else,” Clara assured her. She was somber then. “People in town are talking about Bill’s death,” she said. “We’re going to be the subject of gossip again. And what do we do about his funeral, sweetie?” she added.
“Will it be up to us to bury him, or does his girlfriend want to take care of the arrangements? Could we ask Sheriff Banks to call her?”
“I think we might,” Clara replied. “That terrible man, to send him back here and subject us to the horror all over again.” She closed her eyes. “He killed Bill.”
“I may have helped him kill someone else,” Merissa said with anguish, and explained.
“Perhaps if I tried to help you with a reading of my own,” Clara pondered.
“Would you?” Merissa asked. “You’re better at some things than I am. It might help. Whatever you find out, we could tell Dalton.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid the sheriff thinks we wear pointy hats and dance naked around bonfires in the deep woods.”
“He’s a nice man,” Clara responded. “He’s just very normal. The paranormal has no place in his life.”
