He wanted to know who “they” were, but kept his mouth shut, hoping she’d continue. No one he knew had ever used a psychic on a case—with or without remote drawing. That didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.
The faraway expression on Marley’s features seemed to mean she’d as good as forgotten he was there.
Since last night his hands had warmed up, but the quivering he still felt along his tendons wasn’t normal. A prickling sensation, a shooting thrill, hit hard enough to wind him. Objects around him grew fuzzy at the edges. He wondered if he could be ill, but no, this wasn’t any illness, or not the kind most people thought of.
She was aware of him again, piercingly intent on his face. What was she thinking? He couldn’t unlock his gaze from hers. She stared inside him—or he felt she could? Did she know what he was thinking? An impulse to make his mind a blank didn’t work. Instead he got a vivid image of her holding up her arms, untouched arms. In his mind, she screamed and drew them back. There were the marks again.
He had no idea why he would imagine that.
“Talk to me more about Detective Archer,” she said. “You were going to.”
All he sensed now was that she wanted to change the subject.
“I think it was all about warning me off,” Gray said. “He knew I was at Scully’s last night. With you.”
She blinked slowly, like someone as tired as she obviously was. “Does that mean Danny called him? I didn’t believe him when he said he would.”
“I’m not sure. But someone did,” he said.
“Who?”
Nat hadn’t told him to keep quiet, but then discretion was taken for granted. But if he wanted something from her, he’d have to gain her confidence. Shared information could help.
“I hope you won’t say anything about this. It was a child who called. A boy who said the people he was with would make him suffer if I didn’t back off asking questions about…this case.”
Her study of him lasted seconds too long. “About Amber,” she said. “That’s what you almost said. Does the boy belong to Amber? Does she have a son? Was it him?”
She was telling him, not asking him. He was certain she already knew Amber had a kid. “Ask Nat,” he told her, and she nodded as if he had agreed with her “guesses.”
“I’ve got to go back there,” she said.
“Explain what you’re talking about.”
Marley looked past him and he swiveled around. The crowded workbench was the only thing between him and a wall.
“I have to be alone.”
“So you can try to see what you said you saw before?” he asked. “I don’t get any of it.”
“No.” Her eyes widened and he could have sworn she was listening closely for something. “I’ve never looked for them before. They come to me when they want to.”
“Who?” He wanted to go with her wherever she was going, and to hear what she heard.
Flickering overhead drew his attention to the ceiling. Green, glowing streaks wavered there. Blue mixed with the green and he couldn’t look away.
His cell phone vibrated in one of his pockets. Vaguely, he wondered how long ago that had started.
“Answer your phone,” Marley said.
“How—” Instinctively he knew it was best not to ask her how she knew his phone was vibrating. He pulled it out and answered. “Yes.” The readout showed the Caged Bird, a jazz club he liked a lot.
Bernie Bois answered and his message was short, and sweet to Gray’s ears. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll be around later.”
Marley gathered her hair at the nape of her neck. “You feel good,” she said to him. “It’s making you smile.”
“Remember Pipes Dupuis?” he asked.
She frowned. “Oh, of course. She’s the other missing singer.”
“Not anymore,” he told her. “She sings at the Caged Bird and she just showed up there.”
Chapter 14
Just as with Scully’s, Marley didn’t recall seeing the Caged Bird before. She didn’t care much for either place.
In the center of the club there was an oversize gilded cage suspended five or so feet from the floor by a thick pole threaded, top to bottom, through its middle. Marley could only think of one purpose for the contraption.
“This is a guy place,” she said. “Women dance in there.”
“What makes you think that?” Gray asked.
She stood on tiptoe to get a slightly better look at the cage, then took in the rest of the Caged Bird. A fresh thought amused her. “You mean men pole-dance in that thing, and that one over there?” The gilded showcase had a twin on the far side of a circular bar in the middle of a room resembling a large padded cell. Padded with quilted parrots, their once brilliant colors faded by dust and years.
“Men?” Gray screwed up his eyes to peer at her as if she was manic.
“Might be cool,” she said. “I’ve never seen pole dancing so I’m curious.”
“You want to see men pole dancing?”
She let it go. “If you thumped the wall, you’d choke on the dust,” Marley said, pinching her nose. “And it stinks of beer.”
“That is the aroma of a fine drinking and jazz establishment, ma’am.” Gray arched his brows and grinned. “This is a great old club. And I like it here, so watch it.”
Marley was more intent on watching him, on watching his face to be precise. She had studied it from every angle since he showed up at the shop. There was no sign of a scar that she could find.
In her workroom she had come close to telling him about her most recent journey. The interruption from this place was a good thing since she wasn’t sure who to trust yet.
She had a hunch that he was one of the white hats, the man a woman could trust. Not finding an evil-looking white scar running from cheek to jowl and bisecting his mouth on the way didn’t hurt her new faith in hunches.
“There’s no one here,” she told him.
“So there isn’t,” he said.
“Why are we here then?” Her heart gave a big thump. “It feels creepy. This kind of place doesn’t open in the middle of the day.”
“Baby, in N’awlins you can find this kind of club open any time of day.”
“Baby?” He had to be kidding. “Are you playing some game with me, or just passing the time?”
He slid his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t invite you to come, Marley. Like you say, the place is empty, but I’m patient so I’ll wait for the guy who said Pipes Dupuis was here.”
Gray had not invited her, but he did wait while she went back to her flat and dressed. His tone stung. “I’m not here because I can’t live without your company,” she said shortly. “Just like you, I need leads and I’m hoping to get some here.” She stopped herself from voicing the panicky way in which she felt time running out.
“Okay,” he said. His smile softened her annoyance. “Sorry.”
Hot as it was, she’d put on a black T-shirt with tight, long sleeves. She didn’t want him grilling her about the frightening marks on her wrists again. He’d noticed them before she had.
“Aren’t you hot in that shirt?” he said.
Marley gritted her teeth. One more time, her thoughts and what he said appeared related.
“Black wasn’t the best choice,” she admitted of the shirt.
“It suits you.”
That was not anything she expected him to say, but it brought a flush of pleasure. She swallowed and made a visual journey to the ceiling with the nearest brass pole.
He hummed.
Marley felt him studying her. He made her aware of her body. And aware that Gray enjoyed what he saw.
