Echo shrugged her thin shoulders. “I’m supposed to work this afternoon—you know, at the coffee shop—so I stayed up all night instead of driving home last night or trying to get up early this morning to drive back. You know how I hate to get up early.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“It just made more sense to stay up and drive back to grab something to eat before I had to…” Her voice hitched. “I guess I should call Mark and tell him I won’t be in today, and that Sherry won’t…you know.”
It was difficult to say aloud. Sherry Bishop wouldn’t be going back to work. Ever.
Gideon took his house key from his pocket and handed it to Echo. “Get a couple of hours sleep at my place before you head to Charlotte. You shouldn’t be on the road in your condition.” She nodded and slipped the key into her front pocket. “Keep your cell on,” Gideon added.
None of the Raintrees advertised their gifts, but perhaps someone who had discovered Echo’s ability had wanted to silence her. Because of something she’d seen or might possibly see? And why take the finger and a segment of the scalp? That alone took this case beyond anything he had ever worked, but it didn’t help him. All he had were questions. Theories. More questions.
When he walked down the steps, Sherry Bishop followed. “You are going to find out who did this to me, aren’t you?” she asked.
“I’m going to try.”
“This is just so freakin’ unfair. I had plans for my life, you know. Big plans. I was kinda hopin’ you’d ask me out one day. I mean, you’re older and all, but you’re really hot anyway.”
“Gee, thanks,” Gideon mumbled.
Sherry gasped. “I never got a chance to wear my new boots! They were really kickin’, and I got them on sale.” She sighed. “Crap. Tell Echo she can have them.”
“I’ll tell her.”
Gideon stopped at the foot of the stairs and watched his new partner as she interviewed an older woman with frizzy gray hair. He liked to work alone. It made speaking to the victims so much easier. His last partner had finally decided to believe that Gideon talked to himself and had great hunches on a regular basis. Hope Malory didn’t look as if she would make things that easy for him. She didn’t look at all accepting of things she did not understand.
He appreciated women. He had no plans to marry or even get involved in a serious relationship, ever, but that didn’t mean he lived like a monk. Most women were attractive in some way; they all had a feature or two that could catch and hold a man’s attention for a while. Hope Malory was much more than attractive. She had a classic beauty. Black hair, cut chin length, hung around her face thick and silky. Her skin was creamy pale and flawless, her eyes a serene dark blue, her lips full and rosy. She was tall, long-legged and slender, yet rounded in all the right places. She had the face of an angel, a body that wouldn’t quit, and she carried a gun like she knew how to use it. D
id that make her the perfect woman?
A shimmer of pure electricity ran through his body. The lights in the hallway flickered, causing everyone who was lingering in the hall to look up. At least this time nothing exploded.
“You’re going to catch her, right?” Sherry Bishop pressed.
He watched Hope Malory take a few furious notes, then ask another question of the neighbor. “Catch her? Right now I’m not even planning to chase her. She’s pretty, but she’s not my type, and it’s never a good idea to mix business with pleasure.”
“Get your mind out of your pants, Raintree,” Sherry said sharply. “I’m not talking about your new partner, I’m talking about the woman who killed me.”
He didn’t take his eyes off Malory as he answered, “I’m going to try.”
“Echo says you’re the best,” Sherry said more kindly.
“Does she?” Hope Malory glanced his way, caught his eye, then quickly returned her attention to the neighbor.
“Yeah. And you’d better hurry, Raintree.”
Gideon turned to look at Sherry Bishop. She’d faded considerably since they’d left the apartment. Soon she would move on, go home, be at peace. That was as it should be, but once that happened he would have a much harder time communicating with her. It might be possible, but it certainly wouldn’t be this easy.
Malory made her way toward him with long, easy strides that spoke of confidence and grace. Her notes had been dutifully taken, and he was sure they would be complete.
“Nothing,” she said softly as she came near. “Mrs. Tarleton, who lives right next door, is practically deaf, and the other neighbor was out until early this morning. No one heard anything. Everyone liked the victim and your cousin, even though they were, as Mrs. Tarleton said, young and a bit wild.” She looked past Gideon to the stairway. “Maybe I should talk to your cousin.”
“No.”
She looked him in the eye and lifted her eyebrows slightly. “No?”
“I’ve already talked to Echo.”
“You’re her cousin, which means you’re too close to her to be objective. Besides, you’re a man.”