“I sort of doubt it.”
“It’s just in here?” Hollis asked.
“Seems to be. Outside, I was fine.”
“Then you should be outside.”
“We both should,” Isabel said. “You feel the cold too.” She gestured slightly, and they all saw the goose bumps on Hollis’s bare arms.
Rafe looked at both agents, then said to his detective, “Mal, would you mind staying to supervise until T.J. and Dustin are finished and the body is removed?”
“No problem.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” Rafe gestured slightly, and the two other women walked with him toward the front of the building. “It’s after hours for most of the businesses around here, so there’s not too much traffic in the area, but I’ve posted a few of my people on the block to stop the curious from gathering. Or, at least, from gathering close by.”
When they stood out on the sidewalk, Isabel could indeed see both uniformed cops and passersby at a perimeter about half a block away.
“Great,” she muttered. “Well, at least the icy breeze stopped blowing.” She rubbed her upper arms briefly with both hands, relaxing visibly.
To Hollis, Rafe said, “I gather you didn’t pick up anything helpful in there either?”
“No.”
He couldn’t tell whether it was because there’d been nothing for her to pick up or because she hadn’t tried. He decided not to ask.
“I was about to suggest we call it a day before Hollis and Mallory found the body. It still sounds like a good idea. First thing tomorrow we’ll have a preliminary forensics report, and if I know Doc we’ll have the postmortem as well. We’ll have a decent shot at making an I.D. of the body, and we can start trying to piece together what happened to this lady. Between now and then there isn’t much we can do. Except get some rest for tomorrow.”
“I will if you will,” Isabel said.
He eyed her, but before he could say anything, Hollis was speaking calmly.
“I, for one, would just as soon start fresh tomorrow. I want to shower about six times, watch something funny on television, and maybe call my mother. If I ever feel like eating again, I’ll order a pizza. You two want to be gluttons for punishment, have at it. I’m going back to the inn.”
Isabel grimaced slightly. “A shower definitely sounds like a good idea; nobody wants to smell like death. But I’m way too restless to call it a day.” She looked at Rafe, brows lifting inquiringly. “Buy you dinner?”
He checked his watch but didn’t hesitate. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“See you then.” Isabel walked with Hollis back to their rental and got in the driver’s seat. Hollis got in beside her and didn’t say anything for about half a mile.
Then she spoke slowly. “He’s blocking you, isn’t he? No-he’s shielding you.”
Isabel gave her partner a surprised glance, then fixed her gaze on the road again. “Bishop said you picked up on things quickly. Once again, he wasn’t wrong.”
Absently, Hollis said, “You relax a bit whenever Rafe is nearby, as if some of the strain is lifted. Maybe I see it because I used to be an artist. It started in Jamie’s playroom, didn’t it? When he put his hands on your wrists.”
“Yeah.”
“You felt something?”
“The shock first. And then a muffling quality. Didn’t shut out the voices, just… quieted them a bit, as though I were suddenly insulated. Just enough for me to notice. Out in the Jeep, when he was putting disinfectant on my neck and sitting so close, the voices were barely whispers. When he left to go back inside, they got louder again.”
“And just now, back there?”
“If he was within five feet of me, all I heard were whispers. Creepy whispers, but whispers. And felt that goddamned icy breeze; he doesn’t seem to have had any effect at all on that.”
“So what does it mean?”
“I don’t know. I seem to have been saying that a lot today. I don’t like saying it, for the record.”
Hollis looked at her. “What do you hear now?”
“Usual background hum. Like listening to a party in the next room. That’s normal.”
“Headache?”
“Dull throb. Also normal.”
“Rafe shielding you-is it getting stronger as time goes on?”
Isabel shrugged. “Hard to say, since it just started hours ago. I’ll have to wait and see. It could get stronger. Or it could go away entirely. God knows.” She smiled suddenly, wryly. “But if it turns out he can silence the voices, if only for a while, I may just have to move in with the man. Or at least take vacations with him.”
“It would be nifty to have that quiet place to go to from time to time,” Hollis said seriously. “A refuge.”
Shaking her head, Isabel said, “Something else you’d better catch on to: the universe never offers something for nothing. There’ll be a price tag. There always is.”
“Maybe it’s a price you can pay.”
“And maybe it’s a price he’ll have to pay instead of me. Or would, if we went in that direction. It’s the sort of thing the universe demands. Cosmic irony.”
“Doesn’t seem fair. And you don’t have to remind me that the universe isn’t about fairness.”
“No, it’s about balance.”
“Then maybe that’s what Rafe is, for you. Balance. Maybe the universe is offering you a refuge because you push yourself so hard.”
“Yeah, and what’s it offering him? A clairvoyant, career-driven federal agent who reads up on serial killers for fun, travels all over the country on a regular basis to get shot at and talk about serial killers, not to mention meeting a few of them in deadly situations, and, oh, by the way, hasn’t had a successful romantic relationship in her entire adult life?”
“Great breath control,” Hollis murmured. “The meditation exercises must really work.”
Ignoring that, Isabel said, “I’m fairly sure Rafe hasn’t pissed off the universe enough to be offered that little balance for his life.”
“Maybe there are qualities in you he needs for his own balancing act.”
“And maybe,” Isabel said, “it’s just a chemical or electromagnetic thing. Energy fields, nothing more. Basic science, emotions and personalities not involved.”
She didn’t have to be psychic to know she was being warned off, so Hollis didn’t say anything else until her partner pulled the car into the parking lot of the inn. And then all she offered was a mild “I hear there’s a surprisingly good Mexican place here in Hastings. You like Mexican, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“And does Rafe?”
Isabel hesitated, then said with clear reluctance, “Yes. He does.”
As both agents got out of the car, Hollis said, again mildly, “Handy to already know so much about him. Likes and dislikes, habits, background. Sort of shortens the getting-to-know-each-other dance.”
“For me. Not for him.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I have a hunch Rafe Sullivan already knows most of what he needs to about you. Except for one thing, I guess. And sooner or later, you’re going to have to tell him.”
“I know,” Isabel said.
Special Agent Tony Harte scowled at the window as lightning flashed, then said, “Why is it that we always get the lousy weather, you want to tell me that?”
“Just lucky, I guess,” Bishop responded absently as he worked at his laptop.
“This is not lucky. This is The Universe Hates Me. Me, personally. Who got a flat tire in the rain last night? Me. Who got grazed by a bullet when a pissed-off guy who wasn’t even our suspect got even more pissed off and started shooting? Me. Who had to observe what was without doubt the most gross autopsy on record? Me.”
“Who has to put up with your bitching? Me,” Bishop said.
“And me,” Miranda said as she came into the room. “What’s he going on about now?”
“Usual,” Bishop replied. “The universe hates him.”