“It’s hard to explain.” He glanced at a sheriff’s deputy standing, attentive, nearby. “Essentially it means I can project my thoughts to wander elsewhere. I can pick up sensory data: I can see, hear, smell someplace even though my body’s not present.”
“Could your thoughts go rogue and kill someone?”
“Of course not. It’s a spirit projection. It has no impact on the world around it. It’s sort of like being a fly on the wall, but it makes even less of a physical impact than a fly would. And even if it did, I wouldn’t have. I didn’t like Dupree bothering you, and I wouldn’t have pulled a punch if he showed up at the shop again. I’m no saint, but to kill a man? I’d need a damn good reason. You seriously think I could have done this?”
Our eyes held for a long moment. I shook my head. He seemed to relax, ever so slightly.
I sneezed. I felt bone tired. I hadn’t slept much last night, but usually that wasn’t a problem for me. Maybe I was just getting older and finding it hard to bounce back from things like casting all night.
“Are you okay?” Sailor asked. “You look tired.”
“Thanks.”
“Beautiful, of course. Have I mentioned that? But are you feeling all right?”
His deep voice relaxed me, and I could feel his aura wrapping around me like a psychic hug. I missed him, my Sailor. Cranky pants and all. I wanted nothing more than to throw myself into his arms, have him tell me that everything was going to be all right.
But it was up to me to find a way to make it right.
“I’m okay.”
“You were probably up all night trying to find a way to get me out.”
I smiled. “You promised not to try to read my mind.”
“I’m not. I just know you.”
Our eyes held for a long, warm moment.
“Sailor, why didn’t you call me when you were arrested?”
“I tried—you weren’t at home or in the shop. I was able to get in touch with Maya because she has a cell phone. My last phone call was to a lawyer: Henry Petulengro, who’s married to a Rom cousin. He’s good. I told him you might be calling, so he can fill you in. I don’t have his number on me; you’ll have to look it up.”
I jotted the lawyer’s name on the little pad I always kept in my bag.
“Oh, by the way, Lucille sends her love and an offer to do anything she can to help, as does Maya. And Hervé. And Oscar, of course. So, what do we do now?”
“I’m afraid my contributions will be limited, given my circumstances. I can try to use projection to snoop around a bit, but I have to be careful.”
“Of what?”
He shrugged. “If it’s not done right, the soul can get trapped in the spirit world. The body is left torpid, can’t be roused.”
“That sounds . . . ridiculously dangerous.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“You’d better be. I’m supposed to be getting married in two weeks, and that will be decidedly more difficult if the groom’s trapped in some random spirit dimension.”
“Not to mention in jail.”
“That, too. It won’t happen. We’ll figure this out.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sailor gazed at me with such intensity I swear his look could have started a fire.
My mind was racing, trying to think of something else to ask him, anything that could help. I didn’t know what my next steps should be, or how to go about proving that Sailor wasn’t where the police said he was, despite all evidence to the contrary. How could I find out who else might have had motive to kill Tristan Dupree, even though he was new to town?
“I’m hoping Carlos and Aidan may be of some help,” I said finally.
“I know I don’t have to remind you of this, but I’m not Aidan’s favorite person these days. Or Carlos’s, for that matter.”
“Carlos went over your case with me last night, and for your information, he thinks it’s hinky.”
“And this is a good thing?”
“In this case, it’s a very good thing. He doesn’t believe you did it.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it. That wasn’t the impression he gave me over the course of several hours of interrogation. I was surprised he didn’t step away from the case, actually, since we know each other.”
“According to Carlos, his involvement isn’t prohibited as long as he’s transparent about his connection to you, and lets his supervisor know. Anyway, trust me: We want him on your case.”
He nodded. “And Aidan?”
I hesitated. “He might take a little more convincing. But I’ll figure it out. I have it on good authority that I can be very persuasive.”
He gave me a long, slow smile. Our eyes held. There were no words.
Soon enough our time was up. I didn’t want to leave.
“Thanks for your note last night, by the way.”
“I meant it.”
“I feel the same. And yes, I am fully prepared to marry you, even in front of a coven of grandmas. ’Bout time I met my future in-laws.”
I rose to leave, feeling the sting of tears at the backs of my eyes. At that moment I was glad I couldn’t cry. It would have embarrassed us both.
“Lily.”
I turned to face him.
“It’s going to be all right. I have faith in you. In us. Unshakable faith. Do you believe me?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Finally I just swallowed, hard, and nodded. And hurried out of the visiting room.
Chapter 10
My mind raced as I drove back to Aunt Cora’s Closet. Sailor’s faith in me made it all the harder, somehow.
Just a little pressure. Most brides stressed out over flower arrangements, the reception menu, and the guest list. I was worrying about how to spring my fiancé from the hoosegow. And as if that weren’t enough, I still hadn’t found the right wedding dress. Which reminded me . . . I had an appointment this afternoon to preview an estate sale in Pacific Heights, and supposedly there were two wedding dresses
