When she reached for a certain color, Cayce always called out to Mother Nature to help her make a true representation.
Finally she stood up with her palette and walked over to Naomi and got to work. Cayce started with Naomi’s left shoulder and arm, working down her elbow; Cayce’s strokes were sure, fast, and accurate.
Naomi watched her in surprise. “Wow, when you get going, you get going.”
Cayce didn’t say a word. What could she say? It was beyond her to talk at this point because all the possible colors of the spectrum surged through her heart, through her mind, wrapping around her body and soul. She needed the same energy to wrap around Naomi, to help her model attract and pull in, to blend with the same colors, to blend with the same energy. Only there was no blending with Naomi. Her energy was impatient, irritated—edgy.
Yet Cayce’s work entailed a magical element, and she firmly believed it was due to the energy that she utilized. Something she’d accidentally discovered after practicing her healing lessons with Dr. Maddy, a physician well renowned for her energy work in the healing arts.
When the magic happened naturally, it was great, easy, wonderful. Sometimes Cayce could also make it happen; she was a pro at that. That would desperately be needed here with Naomi. Because otherwise, the art would look flat and feel … off.
Cayce worked relentlessly for two hours, before she finally took a step back. She had the preliminary body-painting on the top half of Naomi, the background blending beautifully into the foreground. Although Cayce still had the other layers to work on, Naomi’s hair was pulled back into a tight braid down her back, and Cayce had to blend Naomi’s face and that hairline yet. She walked closer to the model. “Do you need a bathroom break or some water?”
Naomi nodded. “Yeah, that’d be good.” She walked toward the hallway, disappearing around a corner.
Cayce took a deep breath and let it out, gently twisting and stretching her spine and neck. Then shook off Naomi’s negative energy she’d been working to bypass. When she heard hard footsteps behind her, she stiffened. She hated on-site visitors when she worked. She just wished they’d wait to see the finished piece at the opening event. Not to mention that the energy preceding her visitor had a dark, disruptive influence attached. She pulled in her aura, then turned to face the coming threat.
When she saw a man in a suit walking toward her, her eyes opened wide. His chiseled face was his most striking feature—but a model in a suit with a crisp hard attitude seemed incongruous here.
“May I help you?” She studied his aura, seeing it snugged tightly against his body. A barely visible white line of energy surrounded him. Except it resonated with anger—lots of anger. Yet controlled. She raised her eyebrows slightly.
“Why would you think I need your help?” he asked in a tight, hard voice.
Although he might not be aware of what his aura was doing, he clearly didn’t want her aware of it either. Because now his energy had thinned even more. “It’s just that you look angry,” she said. She waved her hand at the installation. “I’m kind of busy.”
“You are Cayce Matlock?” At her nod, he continued, “And you worked with Elena Campbell?”
“Yes, all the time. We did a piece together two nights ago,” she said, her face softening at the reminder. “She’s a really good friend of mine.”
Just then Naomi returned, instantly shifting the energy in the room. She took her position against the backdrop wall, as she eyed the new arrival with a pretty smile on her face. “Oh, perfect. Somebody to come and watch me,” she said, as she bounced her bare boobs a bit.
It was all Cayce could do to hold back her sigh of frustration.
The man looked at her, then looked at Naomi. “So do you know Elena too?”
“Sure,” Naomi said. “Models in this business usually know each other. She’s pretty decent. I’m better.” She indicated her sleek body. “That’s why I’m here, and she’s not,” she said smugly. “I’m Naomi Star.”
The stranger’s gaze narrowed.
On the side, biting back her caustic response, Cayce watched Naomi’s energy. The deceptive fluffy lights flitting off in a million different directions hid something dark inside, but everybody had something dark inside. Because Cayce had taken an instant dislike to the woman, Cayce had put up barriers, so she wouldn’t have to deal with Naomi’s energy on a firsthand basis, but that also made her painting process go a bit slower, as she had to bypass the barriers to make this work. It would never be as good as with a better model, but, given Cayce had no choice this time, it’s what she would have to do.
While Naomi seemed to think that Cayce was fast and on target, today wasn’t really going as smoothly, as timely, or as well as Cayce would have liked. And she didn’t have time for interruptions. She turned to the stranger. “You haven’t identified yourself,” she said in a cool tone. “What’s going on?”
“I am Detective Richard Henderson,” he said, pulling out a badge.
She frowned, reading the name on the badge. “What do the police want here?”
“Doesn’t matter what they want,” Naomi said with a throaty laugh. “They can send all their hunky detectives my way anytime.”
Naomi’s words gave Cayce everything she needed to know, without even turning toward Naomi to see the same darkness oozing from her pores. Nerves. Fear. Uncertainty. Insecurity. Cayce studied her model for a long moment, then faced the detective, noting no change in his energy. He was completely unfazed by Naomi. Neither was he attracted to the mostly naked woman.
Interesting.
“Detective, why are you here?”
“Because we found your friend,” he said with added emphasis on that last word.
“Which friend?” she asked, not understanding where he was coming from. “What do you mean, found?”
“Elena Campbell,” he said. “Remember her?”
Frustrated now, she gave a quick nod. “Yes, I already told you that
