“Only if someone was hiding out at my lake.”
“Bit cold in the morning to jump into a lake, don’t you think?”
“More of an oversize pond, but I find it refreshing, and I’ve a high tolerance for the cold.”
The smile on his face once again had the corner of Jackie’s mouth quivering upward. A quick glance showed her that Laurel was riveted by this man. She sat unmoving, her pen poised on the blank notepad. What the hell was she seeing? Jackie wished she could have a word with her.
“So after the swim to clear your head, you did what?”
“Showered, ate, came into work around eight.”
“Were you here all day?” Come on, cowboy. Lie to me. Go ahead.
He shook his head once. “No. I left from about nine until one.”
“Doing?” The effort at sounding casual with the question did not fall well on Mr. Anderson. He leaned forward in his chair, placing the now empty coffee cup on the desk.
“Agent Rutledge,” he said calmly, “I was at your crime scene today. I was driving through the area and spotted the circus going on in the park. I was curious, so I stopped to see what it was all about. I ran into Agent Carpenter there when she was about to pass out, and then I decided to leave shortly after. I’d heard and seen enough to know more or less what happened.”
“What did happen, Mr. Anderson?” Jackie suppressed the urge to wipe the smile off his face, though, admittedly, it was the urge to smile along with him that got under her skin more than anything else. If she got the chance, she would have to ask him how he did that.
“Some sociopath exsanguinated a young boy and stuck him under a tree.” There was a note of anger there now, a hard edge to his voice.
“Agent Carpenter? Would you show Mr. Anderson our piece of evidence, please?” When no reply came, Jackie turned and cleared her throat. Christ! What was wrong with Laurel?
“Oh. Sorry.” Laurel flipped open the file folder and pulled out the sealed penny, handing it to Jackie with an apologetic smile.
Jackie frowned and plucked it from her fingertips, giving her a “What the hell?” stare. Laurel smiled apologetically, settling back into the chair. She spun back to face Nick and set the coin down on the desk. “Does this look familiar to you at all, Mr. Anderson?”
Something washed over his face, gone as quickly as it appeared. Surprise? Fear? Jackie could not be sure what. He picked up the coin and studied it intently for a moment, turning it over with large, steady hands. The eyes, which so often gave suspects away, narrowed just a hair. Without their gaze focusing on her, Jackie watched them, but everything about his demeanor remained unruffled and calm.
“It’s a penny.”
Nice deduction, Sherlock. She snatched the penny out of his hand. “Yes, a rather rare and very valuable penny. You know nothing of it?”
“Should I, Agent Rutledge? Was this found on the boy?”
Jackie handed it back to Laurel, who returned it to the folder. They were not going to get anywhere with the penny. That much was obvious. “Mr. Anderson, what exactly is it that you investigate? Special Investigations is a rather vague name.”
He paused. For the first time, he looked just a bit unsure about how to respond, and Jackie felt a twang of satisfaction run through her. He looked over at Laurel, and Jackie wondered why Laurel’s opinion would make any difference to him.
“Ghosts, Agent Rutledge. Most folk come to me about ghosts.”
Jackie blinked a couple times in disbelief. She heard Laurel suck in her breath. That had not been the answer she expected, but given Laurel’s response, it certainly made some sense. “Seriously? Why does the CEO of a multimillion-dollar medical company spend his time investigating ghosts?”
The bright hazel eyes caught hers again, and Jackie glared back. He certainly looked to be telling the truth, as bizarre as it sounded. “It’s something of a calling, I suppose.”
For about two seconds, it made perfect sense, but then Jackie shifted her eyes away, and the ridiculousness of it all rushed back. “So you expect me to believe a man of your means spends his time being a ghost hunter?”
He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking against his weight. “Why would I make up something like that, Agent Rutledge? I figured the FBI would have already known that. The fact is, I stopped at the park because I sensed a ghost in the area. Likely the boy’s. They will linger at a scene sometimes.”
“No,” Laurel said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jackie turned to look at her. “No?”
“No,” she repeated, standing up and walking up next to Jackie. “It wasn’t the boy’s ghost.”
Nick looked over at her, a genuinely curious look on his face now. “Do you know whose it was, Agent Carpenter?”
“No, but I sense it here, and it’s very close. In this building, I believe.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding. “You’re a medium then. I’d guessed as much.”
She shrugged. “Yes and no. I can sense spirits though, and something really strong is very close by. Do you know what it is?”
At that moment, the office door swung open, and a very pretty, dark-haired woman wearing black wraparound sunglasses poked her head inside.
“Nick! There are feds snooping-” She stopped, seeing the two of them at last, and grinned sheepishly. “Oh. Seems the feds are already here.”
Jackie could hear a definite note of tension in Mr. Anderson’s voice now. “Shel, this is Agent Rutledge and Carpenter. This is my business partner, Shelby Fontaine.”
The grin got wider, and she stepped into the room. “Hi.” She thrust out her hand at Jackie, who took it reluctantly. The skin was very cool and smooth. Her lips were painted a brilliant, gleaming red, and the hair was pulled back into a French-style braid. Her eyes were a crystalline blue, like tropical ocean water glittering in the sun. It took Jackie a second to realize they had the same unnatural shine to them as Nick Anderson. What the fuck? Was it some special PI mind trick? Jackie decided she didn’t like this woman with the model looks and the freaky eyes.
When Laurel took the hand, the friendly smile on her face dissolved like sugar in water. The blood-red nails of Shelby Fontaine’s hand gripped Laurel’s firmly, but certainly not so tight to create the gasp of shock that burst from Laurel’s mouth. The color sank out of her body as though someone had pulled a plug.
“Sweet mother,” she whispered, staggering away from Shelby’s now limp hand. After a second she regained her balance, looking decidedly green, and then bolted for the door. A moment later, the bathroom door in the hall slammed shut, but it did not entirely muffle the sounds of vomiting.
Jackie struggled to close her mouth, which had mindlessly dropped open. What was going on?
Shelby offered a nervous laugh. “I say something wrong?”
Chapter 8
Nick rubbed a hand over his face after Agent Rutledge left to check on Agent Carpenter, slamming the door behind her. Shelby still stood there, hand frozen in the same place, looking back over her shoulder down the hall. If Shelby’s actions had not made the situation completely screwed, he would have found the expression on her face priceless. It took quite a bit to stun Shelby Fontaine.
“Came in the back door, didn’t you?”
His voice snapped her mind back in to focus. “Yeah. I um… parked out back when I saw the feds.” She looked back again, rubbing absently at her hand. “What the fuck just happened?”
“Agent Carpenter is a medium,” he said with a wry smile.
“Oh. Shit. You mentioned her before, didn’t you?”
Nick nodded and sat back down. The agents would be back in soon, no doubt about that. “Just in passing.” He lowered his voice then, to make sure the agents could not hear. “She was at the scene, could sense me in the crowd, but didn’t know what to make of it.”
Shelby snorted. “Big surprise there. Bet I just scared the living crap out of her.”