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“That’s why you will wait out here while I go inside and take a look around.”
“I appreciate the gallantry, but it’s misplaced in this situation,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“If Geddings did leave any booby traps behind, I think I’ve got a better chance of spotting them than you do.”
“How do you figure that?” Ambrose asked.
“Setting a dangerous trap, especially one that involves explosives, would require a lot of concentration and, I think, a fair amount of adrenaline. It would leave some serious energy behind. That’s exactly the kind of heat I can sense.”
“As you trip over it? Not a good idea in this case.”
“Okay, I’ll admit you have a point. What do you say we go in together? Hand in hand. That way you’ll know if I sense something at the same time I do but before I actually fall flat on my face.”
Ambrose considered briefly and then nodded once. “Sounds like a plan.”
He took her hand, threading his fingers through hers in a fierce grip. She felt energy lift in the atmosphere and knew that he had heightened his other vision to keep an eye on her aura.
Together they crossed the porch to the broken window adjacent to the door and studied what was visible of the front room. The faded, gloom-filled interior was in shambles.
“Jodi was right,” Ambrose said. “We aren’t the first people to come all the way out here to check on Emery Geddings. If there was a halfway decent security system or a booby trap, whoever trashed the place would have triggered them.”
He eased the door open and started to move into the room. Pallas made to follow him, but she paused, one foot inside the space, and gave herself a moment to assess the currents that swirled in the room. Ambrose stopped and waited, not speaking.
She took her time, searching for the pockets of disturbance. The house was old and faded, and so was much of the energy that seethed within it. But there was also a lot of newer, hotter heat. She did not need to go into a trance and draw it to understand what had happened. She had all the context she needed.
“Jodi was right,” she said. “Someone tore this place apart.”
“Bad guys do that when they’re looking for drugs.”
They moved gingerly through the chaos. Every item of furniture—sofa, tables, chairs—had been overturned. Yellowed stuffing spilled out of butchered cushions. Closets and drawers and cupboards stood open, the contents scattered across the floor. The braided rug in the living room had been rolled aside to reveal the scarred floorboards.
Ambrose glanced at her, eyes narrowing. “See anything?”
“You can tell when I’m using my other vision?”
“I’m still getting to know you, but I think I’ve identified some vibes that indicate you are engaging your talent.”
“It’s a little annoying,” she said.
“Your psychic vision?”
“No, yours.” She studied the scene. “I’m not sure how I feel about having my aura viewed.”
“Sorry.” He drew her to a halt in the doorway of the old-fashioned kitchen. “Why is it annoying?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I suppose it has something to do with what you said about being able to see a split second into the future. It feels awfully close to mind reading.”
“Not really,” he said.
“Yes, really.” She tightened her grip on his hand as they moved into the kitchen. “Never mind. I’m getting used to it. We’re here for a reason. We shouldn’t waste time arguing.”
“Right.” He studied the canned goods that had been swept out of the cupboards and onto the linoleum floor. “So, I see a house that was torn apart by some people who were probably after drugs. What do you see?”
She concentrated on the seething pools of energy whispering inthe atmosphere. “There’s a lot of old stuff here and layers of newer energy on top. I’m better at distinguishing the fresh vibes, but what I see doesn’t tell me anything we can’t tell just by looking at the evidence in front of us. Whoever tossed the place was frustrated. Angry. Looking for something, not just engaging in vandalism for the sport of it.”
“Maybe Geddings’s competitors dropped by to have a look around when they realized he was no longer in business,” Ambrose said, surveying the scene.
