He followed her gaze.
“How do those burns feel?”
“Not great. But I’ll live.” His gaze bore into her. “Thanks to you.”
She could only nod as she watched him pull on his pants. He had no shirt, but he walked into the shop and found one on a rack. When he returned, he asked, “You still have the gun we got here earlier?”
“Yes.”
That made her remember what had happened at the warehouse.
“You threw down the gun you had.”
“Yeah. It turned burning hot.” He zipped his jeans and told her, “Lock the door and keep the weapon with you until I come back.”
As soon as he had left, she got out of bed and pulled her clothing on. Then she took the revolver out of her purse and made a quick trip across the hall to the bathroom before returning and locking the door.
As she sat on the bed, she sent her mind toward Jake, trying to contact him. She couldn’t reach him, but it wasn’t like when he’d been leaving his body. She knew he was still on earth, and that knowledge was reassuring.
Then she sensed the edge of his thoughts and focused in on them. Her heart beat faster as she felt him coming toward her.
Finally he spoke.
Unlock the door.
She got up and let him in. As soon as he’d set bags and a pasteboard tray with cups down on the table, she hugged him.
“I didn’t like letting you out of my sight. Or out of myhearing.”
“Me neither.”
They pulled out seats at the table. He’d brought poor boys and cups of strong New Orleans coffee. With cream and sugar for her.
Did you find out about the warehouse?
He answered as he took a bite of the sandwich.The fire department saved the building, but the floats are destroyed.
Sorry!
I’ll pay for them.
She started to say it wasn’t his fault, but he shook his head.I burned the place up.
To save our lives.
They ate in silence for a few minutes before she said,So how did Mickey and his girlfriend find us?
He took a sip of coffee as he said,Convenient that you can talk and eat at the same time.
When she laughed, he went on.The Evelyn Morgan murder made the news. That would be a clue. Maybe they headed down here and then got more . . . um. . . vibes when theygot to the city. Who knows what they can do.
She nodded. “And who knows whatwecan do, if we keep working at it. They may have done us a favor—showing us real power.”
He grinned, then sobered.We have to assume Evelyn Morgan knew about the clinic.
Or suspected. And thought it had affected us. Maybe she didn’t know how. And what about Eric Smithson, the guy who killed her then tried to tie me up in my shop?
I’m assuming that he doesn’t know. And he’s trying to find out.
