CHAPTER THREE
He was here.
And by “he” Crystal didn’t mean Detective Sanchez.
For the last month, images of a man with wavy black hair and eyes so blue they glowed with an inner fire that could light the darkest night had played in her mind and tormented her with smoldering heat, anticipation, and no clue whatsoever as to why he was haunting her dreams.
In her visions he stood tall and proud, with an oh-so-sexy black leather duster swirling around his legs as objects danced in the air to the movements of his broad outstretched hands. When she’d awakened, she was left with a residual arousal and an excitement that convinced her he was going to change her world.
No matter how hard she tried, she could never get over the glitch in her power to learn more about what part he played in her future. Yes, she saw glimpses, but only the next step. The vision played again and again until it came true or the outcome was diverted and the vision changed.
Knowing this mysterious man was going to come into her life didn’t do her any good unless she knew the why. Based on her visions, she hoped Max’s arrival was the catalyst she needed to grow her powers. Of course, it could also mean that a cute guy who could move objects with his mind was going to come, order coffee, and leave. Sometimes it was a toss-up as to which she wanted it to be.
Now he was here and she was about to find out.
She tempered her smile as she remembered the expression when she called him by name. Was it that big of a surprise that she knew who he was? His father was the head of a ginormous bank, a local celebrity who was frequently in the news for one reason or another. On occasion the estranged son would be mentioned, at times accompanied by a photo of the man himself. It hadn’t taken much online digging to discover the identity of her dream man.
“I’m not here for a reading, Miss Evans,” Detective Sanchez interrupted her musings as she escorted him to the room where she read tarot cards for paying customers.
Oooo. Now it was “Miss Evans,” was it? Apparently, the detective was determined to keep his tough-cop persona. Too bad she didn’t have a vision about this visit to prepare her for what he was about to say.
The nook she used to read tarot cards was tiny, but large enough for the table, two chairs and the small chest of drawers that held her supplies. Three wall sconces shaped like medieval torches hung on the wall, shedding an intimate light that was excellent for creating atmosphere. The space was warm and cozy and allowed her clients to relax.
But Detective Sanchez wasn’t relaxed. Annoyed was more like it. His lips were pinched so tightly together, they disappeared into his face, and when he sighed, he shifted his weight as if he were a parent about to lay down the law to a child.
“I know you’re not here for a reading, Detective. Remember? I know lots of things,” she said with a knowing giggle. Yes. Best to keep him guessing as to what exactly she did know. “You’re here to tell me I was right, wasn’t I? About the postman. I was right. Again.”
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I am here to officially tell you to stop interfering in police business.”
Uh-huh. So he said. “I was right.”
“Yes,” he bit out. “You were right. But you still have to stop.”
“Why? I told you that mailman was selling heroin along his route. I gave you information about which houses were his clients. You just confirmed I was right. You’re welcome.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Putting bad guys away is not the point? That’s your job.”
“Exactly,” he said. “That’s my job. Your job is to serve coffee.”
“Ouch.” She drew back and placed her hand on her chest. “That’s low, Detective.”
“It’s the truth. Look, Crystal, you can’t keep sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Two nights ago my captain recognized you at the scene of that shooting on Dearborn. What were you doing there?”
“Not killing people.”
He raised a dark brow. Clearly, he wasn’t amused.
“I had a vision, obviously. Like the other times. I saw the shooting before it happened.” Her throat closed with frustration at being helpless to stop the tragedy. “I saw the shooter walk down the street and stop in front of that crowd gathered outside the bar and start shooting. He was angry. He wanted revenge. The woman he shot was a former girlfriend, right? The crowd was dressed in blue and green, so I knew it was a game night. I went to the bar to try to stop him, warn her. But I didn’t know what time he would be there. By the time I arrived…”
Chaos had erupted. Shots had been fired. People were screaming and running away from the scene. Police sirens wailed as patrol cars flew past her as she ran down the street toward the madness. A barricade was erected as she got closer, and past the officers she saw the bodies on the ground. More people she failed to save because her powers were too weak.
“If I’d just been a few minutes earlier—”
“Crystal. Stop.” For the first time the cop expression left Detective Sanchez’s face and the same compassion he had shown her the first time they met years before softened his features. “If you only knew how many times I’ve said those exact words myself. Look, honey, I know losing your family was hard on you. But you running into dangerous situations because you claim to have a vision is not going to bring them back. And if you’re not careful, you may end up beside them.”
Ha. Like that would ever happen. She had been nineteen when her parents had died, and she hadn’t the money for a proper burial. She had barely been able to scrape together what she could for cremation and scattered her mother’s ashes on the wind over the falls. Her father’s she told the crematorium to do with what they wished. However, she figured he wasn’t speaking literally.
“I’m not claiming anything. Everything I’ve ever told you has come true. You just need to follow the leads I’ve given you.”
“That’s just it, Crystal. There is a little thing called probable cause. I can’t launch an investigation based on your hunches. The only reason I was able to look into the postal worker was because one of the homes along the route that you indicated housed a pedophile who was violating their parole by living too close to a school.”
“And what about that Amber Alert a few months ago? I told you where to find the car.”
“Lucky guess. Crystal, people are innocent until proven guilty.”
But in her visions, they were always guilty. Once, just once, she would have liked to stop the crime before it was committed. Or have the vision change because something or someone made a positive impact on the person and the crime was averted.
That someone could be her, if she was just given the proper chance.
“I can’t ignore the visions,” she said as tears burned her eyes. “If I can save one person, it will all be worth it.”
“If you don’t stop, then you’ll have to face the consequences.” He held his hands palms out. “I’ve said my piece. I can’t protect you anymore, Crystal. If I hear about you being involved in a crime scene again, I’ll arrest you personally.” The corners of his mouth turned down and sadness filled his dark eyes. “Don’t make me arrest you. I like you, kid. And you won’t do well in jail. You’re too sweet.”
“You have made your opinion known, Detective. I thank you for the warning.” She held out her hand. “Can we at least part as friends?”
“I figured you’d say something to that affect,” he grumbled but took her offered hand.
At the first touch, Crystal activated her second power. Not only was she able to see glimpses of the future, but direct contact with another person allowed her to scan the memories of their past.
With stops and starts of blurred imagery, she watched the past events of Detective Sanchez play out. He lived a life of monotonous routine with brief bouts of intrigue. He enjoyed his work, treated his coworkers as family, and loved nothing more than catching the bad guy.
But he was lonely. Through his eyes, Crystal saw the toll his job had taken on his marriage. Witnessed his wife demanding more of his time and the disappointment in his son’s eyes when he failed to follow through on another promise. Since his divorce and his ex-wife’s remarriage, he had thrown himself into his work, seeking solace in the very thing that led to his marriage’s downfall all while wearing a smile and cracking a joke when at times he felt like doing anything but.
A sad, solitary existence indeed. However, she saw one bright spot, if the detective was brave enough to go for it.
“Who is the blonde woman?” she asked, tightening her hold on his hand when he tried to pull away.
“What?” he asked.
“The blonde woman. I see her standing with your son and another boy. And soccer balls.”
Sanchez gasped and pulled away. This time, she released his hand.
“You do know of whom I’m talking about,” Crystal exclaimed with a delighted clap of her hands. She closed her eyes to focus on the image. “Why do you never talk to her? Whenever I see her, she smiles and tosses her hair. She even asked you where you stop for coffee. Dude, she’s interested. And you’d have had a lot better evening last Friday going on a date than you did reheating Thai food and bingeing episodes of The Walking Dead.”
“Tiffany?” He rubbed his palm against his chest as if he had heartburn. “She, uh… What does she have to do with anything?”
“You like her. And she gives me a good vibe. The next time she smiles at you, ask her out. It’ll do you some good.”
“I-I couldn’t. She’s my son’s friend’s mom. I just… It could be…”
“The start of something spectacular.”
“Spectacular disaster, you mean.” He shook his head and grimaced before turning and heading for the door. Under his breath she heard him mumble, “The world keeps getting weirder and weirder.”
True. So true. She smoothed her palms down her hair as she blew out a breath, but the butterflies in her stomach would not stop fluttering.
The world was getting weirder. And if her hunch was correct, tall, dark, and brooding waiting for her out in the hallway was going to bring about an apocalyptic event not just in her life, but the entire world as they knew it.