Blue Diablo

He went on. “But if something happens to you here, now, there won’t be anything I can do to bring you back.” By the darkness in his tiger’s eyes, I saw that he’d realized what his luck could do to me, what it had already done. “No revenge in the world will offer help for that. I need to know you’re safe, that’s all.”



My heart gave a wayward lurch. I tugged his hand away from my mouth before I succumbed to the urge to kiss his palm. “You want to send me away because you’re worried about me?”



“Yeah.” His voice came out husky. “I should’ve known better than to drag you into this. I just keep making the same stupid mistakes. I still don’t deserve you.”



“Nobody deserves me.” I half smiled to show I meant something different.



“Come here,” he whispered.



I slid from the chair to my knees, let myself lean into him. His arms came around me but I didn’t want to hurt his back. Chance brushed his lips against my temple and I lifted my face, craving the heat of his mouth.



“Aw, man,” Chuch said from the doorway. “Don’t even think about doing it on my office floor. That’s a new rug.”



Making Connections



I scrambled to my feet, feeling heat in my cheeks. “So are we doing this?”



Chuch threw himself into his plaid recliner. “Yeah, I guess. How bad could it be?”



Hm, I wish he hadn’t put it like that.



“I’ll call Jesse then.” Though I wasn’t exactly eager, I wanted to do something. Up until now, it seemed like our unknown enemy had all the advantages. I felt like Jodi Foster in The Silence of the Lambs, with a killer watching through night-vision goggles while I fumbled around in the dark.



Chance offered his hand and I hesitated only a second before I took it. He didn’t need my support, though, as he eased to his feet with a grace I’d never possess. I didn’t know where we stood, but his hand in the small of my back said he had some ideas. I just wasn’t sure whether they correlated with mine. That didn’t stop me from leaning back against him, however.



With a sigh, I dialed Jesse’s cell. He answered on the third ring. “Saldana.”



“This is going to sound strange. . . .”



“I expect that of you. What’s up?”



“Do you have anything that belonged to Maris?”



“You think I’m a serial killer or something, keeping trophies? Look, I may have a lot of exes but—”



“No, that’s not it.” How weird that he immediately leaped to that conclusion, though. Just how far did his range stretch? Could he sense my mistrust? “We’re going to try to contact her. Just because she’s crossed over, it doesn’t mean we can’t find out what she knew.” Put that way, it sounded callous. If he was innocent, he might get mad.



“It doesn’t always work,” he said, his voice subdued. “And when they come back, sometimes they’re . . . not right. You better be sure you know what you’re doing.”



I ignored that. “Can you help or not?”



He sighed. “Hold on. Let me take a look around.”



That must mean he was home. Well, I didn’t know what to make of his reaction. He sounded sad and resigned, not angry or unwilling. But maybe he was a consummate actor.



I glanced at the clock. After six. No wonder dinner smelled so good. I’d taken only a few bites of my parrillada before the Camry blew up. Man, I didn’t envy Chance the conversation with the rental company. Customer service people make cops look benign.



When he came back on the line, Saldana sounded odd. “She left something in my medicine cabinet. I never go in there or I’d have sent it back to her.”



“Come on over then.” I gave him Chuch’s address. “We’re having chicken noodle casserole and then we’re raising the dead. We’d love it if you came.”



At this Chance tightened his arms around me and gave me a little squeeze. I didn’t know if it was meant to be a warning or what, but I just grinned at him over my shoulder. Even if I let him hold me for a minute, it didn’t mean he had me.



“Sadly,” Saldana said, “that’s the most interesting invitation I’ve received all week. Give me half an hour?”



“Excellent. See you soon.” I hit the off button on my cell and noticed the way Chuch was looking at us. I really hate a man who smirks.



“So I guess you two are—”



“None of your business.” I narrowed my eyes on the mechanic.



“Hey, I was just asking if I needed to make up the couch tonight, that’s all.”



“Does he?” Chance found the sweet spot at the base of my skull and worked his thumb so that a pleasurable chill rippled over me.



“Yeah. He does.”



“Oh.” I heard the disappointment in his tone as he dropped his hand. Ghostly warmth lingered on my skin where he’d touched me.



“I might hurt you,” I said. “Maybe when you heal up some.”



We both knew that was just an excuse. More to the point, I still didn’t trust him. Between his control issues, his emotional distance, and his luck, I didn’t know whether I could survive a second try with Chance.



“Sure. Maybe.” As he stepped back, I saw the etched quality to his features.



Why did he have the ability to make me feel like I was breaking his heart? Was I supposed to believe he’d pined for me when he could have anybody he wanted? We weren’t soul mates. Back in the day, we didn’t have some great, immortal love. Did we?



Then I remembered something my friend Sara said when I was trying to console her after a breakup. I said the usual—“You’ll meet somebody else.” And she replied: “What does that matter when the one you want is walking away?”



If I got out of this mess, I needed to call her. When I ran, I’d left everything and everyone behind. I’d started a new life in Mexico City, but I hadn’t made friends. I existed in a quiet vacuum, interacting but not touching.



“I’m not going anywhere,” I told Chance then. “So we can sort ‘us’ out after this is done. Worry about me if you want, but I’ll see this thing through.”



“I hear that’s what they said at the Alamo too.” Chuch grinned as he pushed to his feet. “I’m gonna go see if dinner’s done. Remember, new rug.”



Supper sounded like a great idea, not just because I didn’t feel up to alone time with Chance. I followed our host back to the kitchen, where Eva was pulling the glass dish out of the oven with giant blue mitts.



“Smells great. Anything I can do?”



The woman loved to organize. “Set the table, and use the good dishes. Glasses are in the cupboard beside the fridge.”



“Jesse’s joining us. I hope you don’t mind.”



“That’s fantastic! So we’re on for tonight then?” Eva got out a big slotted spoon and stabbed it into the middle of the casserole.



I caught the look Chuch and Chance exchanged. They weren’t delighted to have a cop sniffing around, probably for different reasons.



“Yeah, it looks like.”



We were halfway through the meal when Saldana’s Forester pulled into the driveway. I got up to answer the door before he knocked and waved him in. “Everyone’s in the kitchen. Come on back. Have you eaten?”



He appeared to take stock of the homey rooms at a glance as we passed through. “No, I came straight over. Will they mind feeding me?”



Of course Eva overheard. “No, we have plenty. Chuch hates leftovers anyway.”



The mechanic shrugged. “The noodles get all gluey.”



Remembering my manners, I performed the introductions. The guys shook hands and Eva checked out Saldana like she did Chance. Maybe she just liked to look, no matter how much she loved Chuch. I could see her point; sometimes it was nice to enjoy the man candy, no strings attached.



I scraped the last of the casserole onto a plate and warmed it up for Jesse. Tried not to notice the way Chance glanced between us, as if he could somehow sense what happened, or almost happened, in San Antonio. That summoned heat to my cheeks, part anger and part chagrin, considering what I now suspected.



Yeah, this might get awkward. You could stir the testosterone soup with a spoon.



I sat down at the round glass table to finish my own food. Eva either possessed the sensitivity of a tone-deaf airport announcer or she opted to ignore the tension. Either way, she chattered to fill the silence. I could’ve kissed her for that, but the guys probably would’ve liked it too much.



By the time we’d cleaned our plates, the mood felt a little lighter. At least I no longer thought Chance was seriously entertaining the idea of killing Saldana and asking Chuch to help him hide the body. I could’ve taken Chance aside and confided my suspicions, but I didn’t. I thought he deserved the uncertainty of wondering about Saldana.



Like a good hostess, Eva started clearing the table. “Dessert, anyone? I have Oreos and Cookies ’n’ Cream ice cream.”



“I’m seeing a theme here,” Jesse said with a killer smile. “I wouldn’t say no to cookies. As a kid I loved to open them up and lick the creamy center.”



My cheeks burned just hearing that. Surely he knew how it sounded. Somehow I managed to meet his eyes, and oh, yes, he knew exactly what he’d just said, but he didn’t intend to flirt with me, or Eva for that matter. Jesse was just provoking Chance.



Chance didn’t take the bait, just narrowed his eyes. “No thanks, Eva. We should probably get started.”



“I’ll have some ice cream,” Chuch said, as if oblivious to the nuances.



A glance out the window told me it would be dark soon. The sky showed the color of bruised plums, stars just twinkling into sight. “Let me go take a look online, see what advice Madame Claudine has to offer.”



“Madame Claudine?” Saldana stood when I did, making Chance do the same for fear of looking rude. Chuch just sat rubbing his belly and waiting for his Cookies ’n’ Cream. “You picked a good person to ask. She works in Baton Rouge, has a nice little business getting in touch with dead relatives. More authentic than John Edward.”



“Who?” I turned with a questioning look.



Jesse shook his head. “Never mind.”



Part of me couldn’t believe we were actually going to do this. I mean, it would be hypocritical of me to say I don’t believe in the afterlife and things that go bump in the night. Shit, some people consider me one of them. But I’ve never gone out of my way to look for the weird and unusual. Then again, I guess I don’t need to because it always seems to find me.



As I headed for the office, Chance fell in behind me. I expected him to make some comment about Jesse, but instead he sat down on the edge of the desk and let me call up Area 51. To my surprise, Madame Claudine had answered, outlining her basic steps on how to go about contacting a dead loved one. I made some notes as I read through.



“Huh,” I said. “I wonder if she gives her secrets away to everyone. Or perhaps just those she thinks can succeed at it.”