Peril for Your Thoughts (Mind Reader Mystery) (8 page)

“Oh, sure. I’ll believe that when my pastries sprout wings and fly off to Neverland.” Maria snorted.

“I can’t believe he was married,” Jaz said, still in a daze. “This has to be my poorest choice yet. Scott Parks? No wonder they couldn’t find his next of kin.”

Wilma gasped. “Next of kin? W-What are you saying?”

“That this hussy didn’t just steal your husband. She killed him,” Maria said, her voice hissing with venom. “Darrin Wilcox. Scott Parks. It doesn’t really matter what he called himself. The man’s dead.”

Wilma’s face turned ghostly white, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she hit the ground hard. And that’s the night that the lights went out in Clearview. All I could do was hope that no one was out to hang an innocent woman.

“I can’t believe Maria didn’t tell Mrs. Parks about her husband’s death,” I said to Jaz. “She had plenty of time, since they’d obviously been talking long enough for Maria to find out about his alias and his cheating.”

“Maria claims she was about to direct Mrs. Parks to the police station and let them deliver the bad news, but then she got distracted when she noticed us outside. I bet she was stalling, hoping I’d show up so Mrs. Parks could confront me. That sounds more like the Maria I know.”

“Either way, she handled the whole situation badly if you ask me,” I said, staring at the ambulance, hoping the woman would be okay. Just then the doors in the back opened and a man helped her out. He looked around, spotted us, said something to her, and then walked in our direction. Just my luck it had to be him.

“How is she?” I asked Max Rolland the EMT-slash-firefighter whom I’d grown up with. He had a sandy-brown flattop hairstyle, gray eyes, a great body, and a big crush on me. He’d had a thing for me ever since we were teenagers. He knew about my quirks, but he said they didn’t matter to him. He found them charming. Of all the men in the world, I knew he would be the one who would never hurt me, but he just didn’t make my heart sing like … I derailed that crazy train of thought and added, “Will she be okay now that she knows her husband is dead?”

Max came to a stop in front of me and placed his hands on his uniformed hips, looking like the centerfold in a Hunky Heroes calendar. “Hi, Jazlyn.” He smiled kindly at Jaz, who two-finger saluted him with a weary tilt to her lips, then he locked his gaze on me. “Kalli. It’s good to see you. It’s been a while.”

“Sorry. It really is great to see you again. I’m just a little frazzled with everything that’s gone on.” I twisted my hands together. “How’s the family?”

“Hangin’ in there. How’s yours?”

“Resilient.” I blew out a breath, and he chuckled.

“Mrs. Parks will be fine physically. Emotionally I’m not so sure. She finds out her husband cheated, only to learn he’s been murdered. That’s a lot to handle all at once.” Jaz groaned, and Max’s gaze shot to her. “Sorry, Jaz. No offense meant.”

“None taken, Maximillian. You couldn’t possibly offend me any more than everyone else in this town has.” She stared off past him and then sighed deeply. “And here comes the most offensive person yet.”

Detective Boomer Matheson pulled into the parking lot of Full Disclosure and cut the engine to his cop car. He slid his long, lean body out of the door and ran a hand through his unruly russet-colored hair, scanning the area. He really wasn’t Jaz’s typical type—big, blond, and buff—yet she’d gone out with him longer than she had any other man. No matter what she said, I had always thought the only reason they broke up was because he wanted more and she got scared. I couldn’t imagine him as the killer, but I supposed anything was possible. And she was right. If anyone would know how to commit murder and get away with it, he would.

His hazel eyes settled on Jaz, and for a fleeting second I could swear I saw them soften, but then he donned a neutral expression, squaring his shoulders as he made his way over to us. “Hey, Rolland. Any updates on the widow?”

“She’s well enough for you to question, but go easy on her. She’s a bit fragile.”

I remembered the look she’d given Jaz, I thought, and
fragile
had been the last adjective I would have used to describe her at that moment.

“Great,” Detective Matheson responded. “Why don’t you get her settled in my cop car and let her know I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Will do.” Max gave me one last, longing look, nodded once, and then walked away.

“Poor Boomer. Nothing better to do than torture innocent victims. Must be a slow day,” Jaz said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Torture innocent victims?” He barked out a laugh. “That’s rich coming from you. Last I checked you were the one leaving innocent victims in your wake.”

“Oh, please.” She flicked her hand in the air. “Sounds to me like someone can’t handle rejection.”

He parted his sport coat, dropping his hands to his hips and leaning in close. “More like someone can’t handle genuine affection.”

They stared into each other’s eyes as though I wasn’t even there, and my gut told me I was right. Jaz did care about him, a lot more than she was letting on.

That
was the problem.

She was the first one to look away. “I can handle affection just fine, but the last thing I want is an adoring puppy dog. I prefer cats.”

“And that’s exactly what you’re going to end up being if you don’t change your ways. A little old spinster cat lady.”

“I could think of worse things.”

“So could I … like life in prison.”

“I’m sure it won’t come to that because Jaz is innocent,” I interjected.

Boomer looked at me like I didn’t have a clue. “Jazlyn Alvarez might be a lot of things, but innocent isn’t one of them.” He sounded sincere, but innocent of what I wasn’t quite sure. His gaze shot back to hers and held her captive. “Everyone has to pay for their sins at some point, Jaz. Looks like yours are finally catching up to you. Enjoy your freedom while you can, princess.”

“I always do and don’t plan to stop now.” She licked her lips and blew him a kiss.

He clenched his jaw, and a muscle pulsed in his cheek. For the first time ever, I actually felt something like sympathy for him. I reached out and touched his arm without thinking and was bombarded with his thoughts screaming in my ear.
Damn you, woman. Why do I let you do this to me? Why do I even care?”
He shrugged off my hand, still glaring at Jaz, and then stormed away.

“Oh, that man makes me so angry I could scream.” Jaz clenched her hands into fists.

“And why do you think that is?” I asked her, crossing my arms and tapping my foot. My own frustration with her was quickly rising to the surface.

Her gaze snapped to me. “What are you getting at?”

“Just that love and hate are two emotions that are much closer than you might think. You, my dear, are your own worst enemy.”

“Oh, no. Don’t even go there, sister. You have no room to talk, and that man makes me crazy.”

“Which is exactly why you care more about him than you are willing to let on, and you’re right. I do know what you’re going through. I’m going crazy too, I’m just not a suspect in a murder investigation.”

“Now
you’re
the one making me crazy.”

“Well, if you had heard his thoughts, you’d know where I was coming from. That’s all I’m saying.”

She frowned. “He hates me.”

“Like I said … love and hate—one and the same. You’d be surprised how much he still cares as well.”

“He sure has a funny way of showing it, and it doesn’t matter anyway. My life is a mess.”

“I hear that loud and clear, and trust me when I say I feel your pain.” I wasn’t much of a partier, but right now I thought she could use something to lift her spirits. “Wanna go get a drink?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Later that night, Jaz and I finally returned home. I’d only partaken in one drink hours earlier, being the designated driver, but Jaz had quite a few. Tipsy didn’t begin to describe the overstressed fiery woman who had needed desperately to forget her troubles, if only for a moment, and let loose. And let loose she had, all over anyone within earshot.

I noticed Detective Stevens’ car next door, so he must be home. Ignoring the odd pull in that direction, I helped Jaz into our half of the house. I went to unlock the door, but it already was. For a moment, I thought maybe I’d left it unlocked, but that couldn’t be. I always checked the locks three times before going anywhere. I was afraid to open the door and find out what that meant. Sucking in a fortifying breath, I pushed the door open wide and stepped through, hauling a giggling Jaz along with me.

Her giggling stopped.

We both stared.

And then Jaz screamed for all she was worth.

“What’s wrong?” Nik bellowed as he charged through the door in record time, almost as though he’d sat ready and waiting for something to go wrong. Yet he wore sweatpants, a tank top and bare feet like he’d been relaxing before bed.

“Someone knocked my plant over. Look at my white rug. It’s a mess,” Jaz wailed.

“Are you kidding me?” Nik gaped at her. “That’s why you screamed?”

Jaz just shrugged. “I needed a good scream, but I feel better now.”

“Glad to hear one of us does,” he muttered, running a hand wearily over his whiskered face.

“I think we’ve been robbed,” I said, pointing to the mess before me to take my mind off his way-too-casual appearance. He was far more muscular than I had realized, and it disturbed me greatly. And Jaz’s scream hadn’t helped. I focused on the situation at hand. Tables had been overturned, cupboards ransacked, drawers emptied.

“I still can’t believe she screamed like that. I thought someone else had been murdered.” He ran his hand through his dark waves before asking, “Do you see anything that’s missing?” Detective Stevens was in full cop mode once more, but it was still hard to focus with him dressed that way.

“Just you, sillypoo,” Jaz said, giggling as she poked him in the chest, her ruined white rug forgotten. “We missed you, Nikos. Or at least Kalli did. I’m not too fond of detectives at the moment.” She hiccupped.

“She’s drunk?” he asked me, raising his dark eyebrows sky high and ignoring her comment, thank goodness.

“That she is,” I answered, closing the door behind us and kicking off my shoes.

“Why?” he asked, his gaze flicked down to my feet and then quickly back to my face.

“Detective Boomer Matheson,” was all I had to say.

“Ahhh.” Nik rubbed the back of his neck. “I should call this in.”

“No!” Jaz stated firmly. “This is my house, and I choose not to report it. I have had my fill of cops, no offense, Detective Dreamy.”

“None taken, but I think you’re making a mistake.”

“It’s my mistake to make. Mmmm, and I’d like to make a milkshake with Kahlua.” She headed off to the kitchen.

“Why not?” he said.

“Pardon me?” I sputtered.

“I’m off duty and frankly, I’m in the mood to join her.”

“In getting drunk?” I asked, aghast.

“No,” he called over his shoulder as he headed to the kitchen after her. “But I definitely think this never-ending day calls for something stronger than coffee.”

“The cupboard over the stove. Jaz has all sorts of stuff. Help yourself. I’m going to put her to bed and change into something more comfortable.”

“Okay. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready to talk about whatever this is.”

Oh my. By
this
he probably meant the break-in, but part of me wondered if he meant us. I blew off those insane thoughts, chalking them up to stress. I followed him to the kitchen and grabbed Jaz before she could start her milkshake and turned her in the other direction.

“Where are we going, and is Detective Dreamy coming with?” Jaz asked, tee-hee-heeing all the way.

“To bed. It’s night-night time. Detective Dreamy isn’t tired, but the sandman is calling your name.”

“Really?” she asked, staring up at me like it was Christmas morning. “Is he cute?”

“Hot,” I said. “Like desert hot, and he’s waiting for you, so you’d better go right to sleep.”

“Okay,” she squealed, and by the time her head hit the pillow, she was already snoring.

Getting her tipsy had so not been a good idea.

I washed up thoroughly and then looked for something to wear. Today was laundry day, but the day had been completely thrown off kilter. I had nothing clean to wear except for the yoga outfit Jaz had bought me when she insisted I change my life and loosen up. Yeah right. Look where that had gotten her. I’d never worn the outfit, but it was clean, and I did need something comfortable to wear. I slipped them on before I could change my mind and headed out to the kitchen to join Nik.

He sat at our kitchen table, lifting a longneck bottle halfway to his lips, but then he paused when he spotted me, his eyes widening with surprise. “Hey,” was all he said on a husky whisper.

“Hey,” I responded and then cleared my suddenly tight throat—surely a side effect from my earlier dose of flour dust. “Beer. Good choice. I prefer wine.” I headed straight for the refrigerator and poured myself a big glass of chardonnay before realizing I’d put my yoga pants–covered fanny right in his line of sight. Let’s just say the pants lifted and separated a certain part of my anatomy much more than I was comfortable with. I took a healthy sip before turning around and joining him at the table.

“For the record, I still think you should call this in,” he said.

“She’d kill me. And to be honest, it doesn’t look like they took anything. It seems as if they were looking for something, but I don’t have a clue what.”

“Then why did you call me?”

“I didn’t. You heard Jaz scream and came running, remember?”

“Oh, right. Price you pay for sharing a house, I guess. Everything sounds louder than it really is.”

“Tell me about it. I thought Wolfgang was killing you the other day.”

“He does get a bit excited now and then.”