“I don’t know what to say.” She blinked and felt a tear trail down her face. He wiped it away with his thumb and stroked her lips. “No one has ever listened to me, really listened. I know you don’t agree with me, but thanks for at least hearing me out.” Finn or not, Noah meant something to her. Not to Cecilia, to Lara. “You have a point about hearing Cecilia. But she and I are tied in some way. Wouldn’t that make sense if we’re the same person? I mean, I was drawn to this place.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. But the past has an energy. All living things do. Maybe her energy called out to a powerful psychic, and you answered. Maybe her blood does run in your veins, and that’s why you, of all people, heard her so clearly.”
“I just know that right now, this is where I belong.” And I wish you belonged here too. Maybe that was why she wanted him to be Finn. That way, when his case ended, he wouldn’t leave her.
“Well, it’s where I belong right now too.” He stood and crossed to find his shirt on the floor. “We’re going to go back to the inn and pretend everything is nice and normal. But you go nowhere without me. I’m your new best friend. We’re lovers, friends, whatever you want to tell people we are so they’ll buy me staying by your side until this is over. Because we have a killer to catch.”
“You’re sure it’s Bill or Mike?”
“Almost positive.”
“But you’ve met them. You couldn’t track their energy or something?”
He shook his head and put on his shoes. “I felt the bad energy in scenes of the past, but I never looked at either of their energy signatures in the present. Even if I had, it wouldn’t necessarily have given me the same read. I’ve dealt with this before. If the killer isn’t in the same furious state of mind as he was when he killed, his energy will look different to me.”
“So even if you try to look at Bill’s or Mike’s past history, you won’t know which one of them is the killer?” Disappointment warred with joy. If he identified the murderer, they’d all be safe, but then he’d leave. If he didn’t spot him, they’d be in danger, but Noah had promised to stick to her like glue. Which meant he’d be sticking around.
“Exactly. I need to find our guy when he has death on the brain, which is not a good scenario for anyone.” Noah straightened and groaned. “I hope to God Jack was right to send Chloe to help us. I can’t be with you and her twenty-four seven. If she sticks her nose in this thing, she’ll attract our killer’s attention.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. I have a feeling he gets off on being in charge of things. And Chloe has this habit of stepping into trouble and stirring up a shit storm like you wouldn’t believe. If anyone can get our guy mad, it’s her.”
They returned to the inn to find everything quiet. Thankfully, no one had seen Lara wearing his coat to cover her torn shirt and wrinkled jeans. After moving the rest of his things into Lara’s room, he settled into bed with her. Noah held her for a good hour before he fell asleep. He didn’t remember his dreams, but he felt uneasy the next morning.
He woke with her at six, showered and dressed and met her at the door. “You’re fast.”
She smiled. “You get used to early mornings around here. Well, my shadow, I think we’ll introduce you as the new help. I could use a strong man around here.”
He slapped her ass. “Damn skippy.”
Quietly laughing together, they moved into the kitchen. Noah helped Lara prepare breakfast for over a dozen guests, to include him, God bless her. As she fixed coffee, muffins, eggs, and more, he heard someone moving out front.
“That would be Frank readying the buffet.” The swinging door burst open, and Frank breezed through. “Morning, Frank.”
Frank’s hair looked mussed. He had dark circles under his eyes and wore a wrinkled shirt and jeans with tennis shoes. Not his usual dress, from what Noah had seen of him. He bit out a terse good morning to Lara, grabbed a mug, and poured himself some coffee from one of the carafes, and scowled at Noah until he and his coffee left through the same swinging door.
Lara stared. “Wonder what crawled up his butt and died?”
“That would be me,” Chloe said as she pushed past the door.
Noah groaned. “Lara Graham, meet Chloe King, my manager at the PowerUp! gym.”
“Wow. You really take your responsibility as his employer seriously. Following him all the way out to Brownville.” Lara grinned.
“What can you do? Good help is hard to find.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I heard that!” Frank breezed back into the kitchen to deposit his mug on the counter, grabbed a clean stack of plates, and left just as quickly.
“Well, Chloe, I’d say nice to meet you, but I want to know what you did to Frank.”
Chloe cocked her head, the way she did when she listened to her voices. “Okay, we’re good to talk in here. It’s safe enough for now. If anyone asks, Frank and I are cousins. Believe it or not, Frank and I are old friends. I was part of the team that busted him a few years ago on forgery and grand larceny charges, but somehow he weaseled out of them.”
Lara dropped the mixing bowl she’d been holding, and it landed on the counter, nearly dislodging the contents. She cringed. “Forgery? What?”
Chloe turned to him. “Frank Hanover was one of our own. Noah, meet Ian Ryder.”
“No kidding?” Noah glanced from Chloe to the swinging door through which Frank passed again. Ian Ryder was infamous. A gifted psychic gone rogue who’d nearly stolen his way to millions. Rumors about foreign governments, spies, and scandal had circulated about Ryder, who’d vanished years ago. But somehow, Frank didn’t have that whole air of intrigue around him.
Frank sneered. “You telling him the whole truth, or your version?”
“Frank, what’s going on?” Lara rounded to him and put a protective arm over his shoulder.
Regardless of Frank’s sexual orientation, Noah didn’t like them standing so close.
“I used to work for the government a long, long time ago.” Frank glared at Chloe. “Before the PWP became so widely known, it was just a beta project.”
“What did he do?” Noah asked her.
“Master forger. A chameleon of sorts. He could imitate anything on paper.”
“He’s an artist here. Makes sense.” Noah nodded.
Lara frowned. “PWP?”
“Psychic Warfare Project,” Noah explained, ignoring Chloe’s dark look. “I’m not going to lie to her, Chloe. Lara, the PWP is what we called our organization with the government. It was an experimental unit made up of psychics of different specialties and degrees of skill. We took on various missions to help our country and did what was asked of us.”
Lara dropped her arm from around Frank and moved back to the batter in her bowl. “I’m impressed. I know you said you did investigations, but I didn’t think it was all official-like.”
He flinched. “Ah, it’s not. I said we used to belong. The PWP closed up eight months ago.”
Chloe swore under her breath. “Why don’t you just tell her every classified mission we went on too? Heck, Noah, give her the codes to the boss’s safe while you’re at it.”
“She knows enough about me to believe,” he explained.
“Fine.” Chloe faced Lara. “Noah’s a very valuable member of the team. He can jack into the past, seeing and hearing secrets when he pushes hard enough. But sometimes he can’t let go.”
Noah shook his head. “The problem with my skill is I can’t see everything. The more intense emotion or energy associated with the past, the easier I’m able to pick it up. I have no problem seeing when it comes to psychics.”