Hide'n Go Seek (Book 2 of Psychic Visions, a paranormal romance) Read online

  ***

  Kali wondered how much longer. With the police short-staffed due to the apartment crisis, it seemed like she'd been waiting forever.

  She knew the victim had been murdered. She even thought she knew how. She didn't know why or by whom. And that's where the problem stood. She'd considered volunteering more information to the police; only they were quite capable of finding out the cause of death on their own and would do it regardless of what she had to say.

  She didn't understand much about these psychic tugs, except that they refused to be ignored. It wasn’t as though psychic abilities came with an instruction manual.

  She'd blundered along in the beginning. Visions had begun to slip into her head, sometimes of the victim's life or their death, usually vague and always as confusing as hell. Even when she wasn’t on a disaster site, but sitting and watching television, the newscaster would mention a murder and Kali would receive a quick flash, a picture of the dead person. Even worse was not being able to discuss it with anyone.

  Her last freaky painting was a puzzle, too. So was this letter business. With any luck, Grant would solve the problem while she was away. She’d wanted to mention it to Brad but couldn’t find the right moment. There’d been no time and too many ears to hear what she needed privacy to say.

  Her butt had gone numb from sitting for so long. Kali sighed and shifted again. Most of the other teams had flown home. She thought she'd seen Lauren and Todd still working, but she had no idea where Brad and Jarl had gotten to.

  Powerful lights turned on suddenly, brightening the atmosphere. Another police cruiser arrived. Kali watched, hoping this would end her wait. An older, grizzled officer walked toward her.

  "Hi, are you Kali Jordan?"

  Kali straightened in relief.

  "Sorry, you had to wait so long. Let me take your statement and you can go home."

  The process was over in a few minutes

  "Kali! Jesus, there you are."

  Kali spun to find Todd running toward her, a ragged look to him. She could relate. "Hey. Am I glad to see you. I was afraid everyone had left already."

  "I saw you talking with the police, what the hell happened?" he asked, concern shifting away the fatigue in his face.

  Kali winced. "Just the norm. Shiloh found another body."

  Todd frowned, staring in the direction of the collapsed apartment building.

  "No, not here." She pointed toward the direction she'd walked away from. "Over there. I walked Shiloh over to the woods to relieve herself."

  Todd shook his head. "She shouldn't have been working there."

  "Nope, she shouldn't have. You know yourself that it's hard for the dogs to separate the intensity of a disaster site from the surrounding areas. Besides, what's the chance of another body that far from the site?" She linked her arm with his. "I'm glad you're still here."

  "Lauren has left and I'll be leaving soon. A couple of people are staying behind." He searched her face. "Can you leave now? There's another flight in," he glanced at his watch, "an hour and a half."

  Kali groaned. "I so want to be on it." She bent down and scratched Shiloh behind the ear. "Yeah, you're ready to head home, too, aren't you girl?" Shiloh wagged her tail and licked her hand. "Come on then. Let's pack up and get the hell home."

  Straightening, she realized the night had gone quiet. If she hadn't been staring blindly in the direction she might have missed it. Murmurs wafted through the crowd, growing in volume as one of the crime scene officers carried out something large and awkward. As he placed it in the back of the van, she caught a better glimpse. Her blood ran cold.

  Tucked in a clear bag, tagged as evidence, was a large metal tank of some kind - shaped almost like an oxygen tank.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kali pulled the Jeep onto her gravel driveway, parking at the front of her house. She frowned when she noticed the dark truck parked to one side.

  Grant. And a stranger.

  This she didn't need. The door opened and Grant stepped out. Shiloh barked. Kali murmured to her, "I know. Bad timing, huh?"

  Still, Kali had a hard time dragging her gaze away from the tight faded jeans encasing his muscled thighs. And the cream golf shirt stretching across his chest didn't help either. She swallowed. She might not want him here, but he was definitely eye candy.

  The twinkling front bay windows of her house caught her attention. The rest of the world danced with the dawn of a new day, whereas she...she felt like shit. And probably looked it, too. She'd been gone for days and had spent the last twenty-four hours in the same dirty clothes, her hair covered in dust and her skin gritty as sandpaper. Lovely.

  The flight home from California had been postponed by a good six hours. She thought it was Friday. Her inner clock was beyond screwed. Thank God Stan had been waiting to pick her up when she'd finally made it in. She could have begged off the next step, too, except she'd been doing this for far too long to shy off work when everyone else was exhausted. Together, they'd transported gear and animals to the center for unloading in the large garage. Later, equipment would have to be washed and sorted, checked to see if it was safe to reuse, and kits restocked. First, the team needed rest. Janet, a long time volunteer and dog trainer, had sent Kali home. Her good humor had been a balm to Kali's stressed nerves.

  Right now, all she wanted was sleep.

  Grant strolled over as Kali let Shiloh out of the Jeep, then headed to the back for her gear.

  "Good morning."

  Shooting him a quick glance, she reached for her grubby travel bag. "Well, it's morning. I don't know about the good part. It's a little early for a visit, isn't it?"

  He reached inside the cargo area and lifted her bags in a smooth easy motion before she had a chance to argue. She turned to face the second man and her brain stalled. Christ he was gorgeous, cool and classy, with Adonis-type features. He wore black jeans and a silver knit shirt tight enough to show the muscles rippling with every movement, but not so tight as to label him a player. He nodded his head in her direction, a small smile playing on the corner of his mouth. "Good morning."

  Holy shit. The warm chocolate voice rolled through her ears and down to her tummy. She couldn't pull her fascinated gaze away. She must look like an idiot. She didn't need this. She needed rest. No matter how many male models Grant put in her path today, nothing was going to stop her from heading to her bed - alone!

  Grant passed her on the way to the front door, his spine stiff, his movements clipped, bags carried easily in his hands. Sure, he hadn't been up for the most of night, she thought, disgruntled. Slamming the Jeep door shut, she made her way to her front door. If Grant wanted to ask questions, he was going to have to let her shower and eat first. Hell, no. Better to give him what he needed then collapse. Besides, what she really wanted was another look at her painting.

  "Just put the gear by the back door, please. I'll clean it up later." She tossed her keys on the counter and faced him and the hunk who had walked in behind him. "I have to feed Shiloh. You have about five minutes after that before I collapse." She turned her attention to rummaging up a meal for the dog. With Shiloh happily wolfing her food down, she faced the men. "What's so important that you had to come this early? And who's your friend?"

  Grant crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. "Stefan is a consultant. You were part of an investigation down in California yesterday, I understand." He regarded her intently. "At the apartment collapse. Apparently you found a body."

  Shit. How had he known? And so fast? Was there anything the FBI didn’t know?

  She turned to face him, widening her gaze in what appeared, she hoped, casual interest. She kept her gaze on him, refusing to be sidetracked by the mind blowing Stefan. This time there was no mistaking Grant's assessing look. Brushing her hair back off the side of her head, Kali realized just how weary she'd become. Grant and then bed. Her eyes widened. No, not together. She blinked as her hormones stood up and shook free of months - hell, years - of dorm
ancy. No way. They had a hell of a nerve rearing their heads right now.

  Slamming a lid on her unruly libido, she met his gaze calmly. "We found several victims. I presume you're talking about the last one that Shiloh found separate from the disaster site."

  He raised one eyebrow. "Can you tell me about that, please?"

  Stan had probably told him. Then again, bad news always traveled fast, and anything linked to her name probably had been flagged. It took a few moments to explain. When she fell silent, he studied her for several long seconds. Kali stared back, refusing to let this man unnerve her. Still, he was an imposing figure, causing her belly to quiver uncertainly.

  "They've identified him."

  "Oh, good." Exasperation crept into her voice. "Does that mean I can go to bed now?"

  "He was one of the survivors from the apartment complex. And he'd been buried alive."

  "Oh no!" Kali's stomach heaved and she closed her eyes briefly. "That tank. Christ. I saw a tank tagged as evidence when they loaded it into the van, but I didn't understand the implication." Kali's shoulders sagged, defeated by such a horror. "Why? Why would somebody do that?"

  "I don't know. That's what I'm trying to find out."

  "You?" She frowned. "Why you?"

  "Because I wanted in on this one." He shifted casually.

  "You work in California?" Kali was really confused now. Why would the FBI in Oregon be concerned about a local murder from California? "I don't understand."

  Leaning forward, he pinned her with a gimlet eye. "Can't you see a potential connection between the letters and this murder?"

  Kali grabbed the closest chair, sitting before she collapsed. As the realization set in, she slumped lower. Thoughts frantically rushed through her mind, only to circle around in endless loops of confusion. The letters... "No," she whispered. "I mean it's hard not to think of it. I didn't make the connection - it's a different state."

  "Understandable." He pulled out a small notebook and sat down opposite her. "So now...let's focus."

  For the next half hour, Grant questioned her. Kali felt more like she was being interrogated. By the time he was done, she felt like a wet dishcloth hung out to dry.

  Stefan never said a word. Quiet he might be - stoic he wasn't. His gaze locked onto her with unnerving intensity. She struggled to ignore him.

  "Good. I think that's it. Except I need a list from you of every person you recognized at Sacramento. Stan has given me a list of everyone who went from the center."

  Kali struggled as the world she thought she knew shifted again. "You think it's one of us? A rescuer?" Defeat tinged her voice.

  "I think it bears reviewing. The person has to be in the know somehow. I'm going to be at the center for a week or so, posing as a visiting SAR member from Maine." He stood up and stretched.

  The golf shirt pulled across his massive chest, showing every muscle. Then there were the tight-ass pants. Why was it Grant who made her throat constrict and the nerves in her stomach dance? The consultant, Stefan, was better looking, and had some indefinable charisma she'd never seen before.

  But it was Grant that interested her.

  It was Grant's energy that surged toward her whenever they were close together.

  It was Grant's energy that made hers brighten.

  Forcing her gaze back up to his face, she swallowed a couple of times before trusting her voice. "Are you experienced enough in this field to answer the types of questions that come up?"

  Grant dropped his arms to his side. "I volunteered with my brother for years. He works out of a center in Maine. Both training and rescue work."

  "Then maybe we could use you regardless of the real reason. We're always short staffed."

  "Good to know. I'll be around, if you get called out again, let me know where you're going to be." Pulling a card from his wallet, he dropped it on the table beside her.

  Kali's face froze. Was that the same as don't leave town? "I can do that," she whispered.

  Something in her face caught his attention.

  "Tough couple of days, huh?"

  "Yeah, just a bit." Intense weariness made it hard to get up.

  Stefan spoke, smooth velvet that momentarily hid the punch of his question. "How's the painting?"

  She froze for the second time. "How do you know I paint?" she murmured, her heartbeat knocking so loudly against her rib bones, she was sure the men could hear it.

  "You just confirmed it." His gaze locked onto hers. So intense she couldn't break away. It was as if he were trying to see inside her mind. She blinked...and he broke the connection. She'd been released only because he let her go. She exhaled slowly, a fine tremor wracking her spine. It should have scared her. He should have terrified her. Instead, she understood. She didn't know if she'd passed or failed whatever test he'd administered, but she knew he'd been assessing her.

  Beyond strange.

  She gathered her strength and stood, stumbled slightly, catching herself on the side of the table.

  Grant reached out to steady her.

  Energy zinged her.

  She jerked back reflexively. He frowned. She bit her bottom lip.

  His hand stayed in the air before dropping to his side. He studied her quietly.

  Heat flamed her cheeks. Bravely she met his gaze. "Sorry, I didn't mean that the way it looked, you startled me."

  With a curt nod, he accepted her excuse and turned to walk away, a slight clip to his step.

  Stefan stayed behind. She glanced at him, expecting anything but what she saw - compassion. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He handed her a business card. "Here's my card. You're going to want to call me."

  Kali watched the two men drive away. She'd handled that badly. She hadn't been able to stop herself bolting from Grant’s touch and the freakin’ scary need to touch him. She couldn't explain it any more than she could explain the need to feast her eyes on him. Attraction was one thing. This was something else yet again. She didn't want to care about anyone. Not anymore. It hurt. And she'd had enough hurt lately.

  The trouble was her hormones weren't listening.

  She glanced down at the card in her hand. Stefan Kronos. Consultant. Psychic Investigator.

  What the hell?

  ***

  Grant pulled onto the highway heading back into Portland. Kali lived in Sorenson, a hiccup of a town nestled between Salem and Portland. By rights it should lose its town status as it had been all but eaten up by Portland's growth. He drove seamlessly in and out of traffic, his mind caught on Kali's last comment. And her reaction to his touch. Now that had hurt. He'd only been trying to save her from a fall.

  He'd felt the zing. Reveled in the energy. She'd bolted from it.

  And not in a nice way. How could something that powerful not be right?

  Damn. His hormones went into overdrive every time he thought of her. Yet when he was with her, he went into professional mode. Calm, quiet and dependable. Not exactly every woman's dream.

  He needed her to feel the same way he did.

  "She does." Stefan spoke for the first time.

  Grant snorted, easing the car into the other lane. "Really? How come she couldn't take her eyes off you, then?"

  "Only at first meet. She got over me pretty quickly."

  The smile in Stefan's voice had Grant studying his friend's profile. He wanted to believe him.

  "And you need to."

  Staring back at the highway, Grant realized he needed lots of things, but Kali in the middle of a case wasn't one of them. Kali in his arms, Kali in his bed, or how about Kali in his life? As if.

  His logical mind struggled with the logistics of the Sacramento murder. It would be physically challenging to pull off alone. Moving bodies required a physical strength and a level of fitness few people had. The oxygen tank added to the weirdness factor. Although Kali was in great shape, she couldn't have lifted a man the size of the Sacramento victim. If she had a partner - maybe. A partner would open the
suspect pool to anyone. Something else to talk to the profilers about.

  Working with Kali on this case was going to be a challenge. If the press found out about this...not fun. And with her undeveloped psychic power... He knew all too well what happened to people who couldn't control it. Most of them ended up in mental institutes or committing suicide.

  Stefan could help her.

  "I left her my card. She needs a bit of time."

  He would have to watch how she handled this mess.

  "You're in trouble here. With her."

  "How bad?" Grant couldn't not ask.