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“Mrs. Banks—”
“Marjorie,” she said. “And you cannot—will not—say no.”
I stared at her for a minute, a deep sense of unease filling me. “Marjorie, the rangers have emphatically warned me away from any further action regarding your daughter’s murder. I cannot help you.”
“Oh, you can and you will, or I’ll make your life so damn miserable in this town that you’ll have no choice but to leave.”
And that right there was the sucker punch I’d been waiting for. So much for Belle’s theory that fate might want us to settle in this place.
Fate works in mysterious ways, Belle said. But it does appear the same old shit is hitting us yet again.
Well, not exactly the same shit. This was the first time we’d been threatened for not using our abilities.
I rubbed my head and then said, “If the rangers have the slightest suspicion I’m helping you, my ass will be thrown into jail so damn fast—”
“And I’ll get it out just as fast, believe me.” She reached out and grabbed my hand, but this time I was prepared for her. No images surged; all I saw, all I felt, was bleak sorrow and utter devastation. Her demands were born of a need to do something to help ease her guilt and heartache, I knew that, but it didn’t help me. “Please, Elizabeth. You have to do this. You must.”
Which was almost an exact echo of her earlier plea, and one that would undoubtedly get me into even more trouble.
I gently pulled my hand from hers. “If you give me your address, I’ll come to your place and examine Karen’s room. We’ll see where we go from there.”
She frowned. “How will that help?”
I hesitated. I didn’t want to give her false hope, not when the man behind Karen’s death had gone to such lengths to conceal his presence. “I might be able to find something that has the man’s resonance on it. It might give us some clue as to who he is or where he is staying.”
“Then come with me now—”
“No.” I held up a hand, cutting off her protest before she could utter it. “I’m just about dead on my feet, Mrs. Banks. I couldn’t sense anything now even if I wanted to. Tomorrow is the best I can do.”
Her expression was less than pleased, but there was little point in pushing the issue, and she knew it. She gave me her address and then added, “Nine tomorrow morning, then?”
I hesitated and then nodded. “But it’s possible the rangers will want to do their own search, so please warn me beforehand if they’re there.”
The last thing I needed was to be going against O’Connor’s orders so soon after they’d been given. She nodded, and after a slight hesitation, spun around and walked back to her car. I waited until she’d left and then headed into the café.
Belle met me near the door and handed me one of her concoctions. It was thick, green, and rather odorous, but I knew from experience that the worse they smelled, the better they worked.
I held my nose and quickly swallowed it, but a shiver of distaste still ran through me. “Seriously, can you not add a little sugar or something to make these things a little bit more palatable?”
“Sugar is bad for you.” She plucked the glass from my hand. “Unless, of course, it’s consumed in the form of cake, biscuits, or chocolate.”
I snorted, and almost instantly regretted it when pain shot through my brain.
“You,” Belle said, voice severe, “had best get upstairs quick smart. I’ll finish up in the kitchen and check on you later.”
I nodded, squeezed her arm in appreciation, and then headed for the small set of stairs at the rear of the café that led up to the first floor and our accommodation. There wasn’t all that much floor space up there, but we each had our own bedroom and there was a separate toilet and bathroom. The living room was tiny, but had enough room for a kitchenette, an under-bench refrigerator, a small coffee machine to save us heading downstairs all the time, and a microwave, as well as a two-person sofa and a TV. It might have been stifling had it not been for the balcony that extended out over the sidewalk, providing us with enough space for a table and four chairs while giving those in the café who wished to have their coffee and cake in the fresh air some weather protection.
My door creaked as I opened it, and the sound echoed nastily through my brain. I winced and made a mental note to oil it in the morning. I didn’t bother turning on the light—it would have hurt too much. I simply stripped off my clothes, climbed in under the blankets, and let it all go. All the tension, all the hurt, and all the fear—most of which wasn’t mine. It might well come back to me in the morning or even in my dreams, but I’d worry about that if and when it happened.
I closed my eyes and, within seconds, was asleep.
It was a distant but insistent ringing that woke me. I felt around until I found my phone and then forced one eye open to see what the time was. Ten past nine.
Oh shit….
I flung off the blankets and scrambled out of bed. Mrs. Banks was not going to be happy.
“I rang her earlier and told her you were unavoidably delayed,” Belle said, as she carried a tray into my room. “So get your ass back into bed and eat your breakfast first.”
