Raintree: Haunted (Raintree 2)

“Who’s your friend?” Rainbow asked as she stepped from behind the counter. Her full, colorful skirt hung to the floor, the hem dancing around comfortable sandals.

“This is my partner, Gideon Raintree,” Hope said. “He wanted to look around, but he can’t stay.”

Hope watched as her mother became as entranced as every other woman who discovered Gideon for the first time. Her back got a little straighter. Her smile brightened. And then she said, “You have the most beautiful aura I’ve ever seen.”

Hope closed her eyes in utter embarrassment. She would never hear the end of this. Gideon would tell the other detectives over breakfast that Hope Malory’s mother was into auras and crystals and tarot cards. She waited for the laughter to start, but instead of laughing, Gideon said, “Thank you.”

Hope opened her eyes and glanced up at him. He didn’t look as if he was kidding. In fact, he looked quite serious and at home here, as he began to study the merchandise on the shelves. “This is nice,” he said. “Interesting products, pleasant atmosphere…”

“Atmosphere is so important. I try to fill my shop with positive energy at all times,” Rainbow said.

Again Hope wanted to shrink away, but her partner didn’t seem at all put off or amused. “I’ll bet the tourists love this shop,” he said. “It’s a peaceful place.”

“Why, thank you,” Rainbow responded. “That’s so astute of you. Of course, I knew as soon as I saw your aura…”

Not auras again. “Mom, don’t talk Raintree’s ear off. He has to go, anyway. He’s got things to do tonight.”

“Not really,” he said casually. “I want to take another look at those files, but I need a little time away from them first.”

She glared at him, but he ignored her as he continued to study the merchandise. If they were going to be partners, he would have to learn to take a hint.

“Join us for supper,” Rainbow said, a new excitement in her voice. “I’ll be closing up in twenty minutes, and there’s stew in the Crock-Pot. There’s more than enough for the three of us. You look hungry,” she added in a motherly tone of voice.

To Hope’s absolute horror, Gideon accepted her mother’s invitation.

No two women could be more dissimilar. Where Hope was openly wary and more often than not tied up in knots, her mother was open and relaxed. They looked a little alike, as mothers and daughters often did, but beyond that, it was hard to believe that they’d ever lived in the same house, much less shared DNA.

Dinner was thick beef stew and homemade bread. Simple, but tasty. Gideon steered clear of the television set in the living room, and took the chair that placed him as far away from the stove and microwave as possible. He did his best to keep any electrical surges low and controlled.

Obviously Hope wanted him to eat and get out as quickly as possible. She fidgeted; she cast decidedly uncomfortable glances his way. She was clearly embarrassed by her mother’s beliefs and openness. What would his new partner say if she knew that Gideon believed in everything her mother embraced? And more. He could make her suffer and stay on after the meal was done, but Gideon did Hope a favor and declined dessert and coffee when they were offered. He said thanks and good-night, to his partner’s obvious relief.

Rainbow remained in her little apartment, humming and cleaning the kitchen, and Hope walked with Gideon down the stairs.

“Sorry,” she said softly when they were halfway down the stairway. “Mom’s a little flaky, I know. She means well, but she never outgrew her hippie phase.”

“Don’t apologize. I like her. She’s different, but she’s also very nice.” Man, did he know about being odd man out. “Different isn’t always a bad thing.”

“Yeah,” Hope said with an audible scoff. “Try to believe that when your mother shows up for career day to talk about selling crystals and incense, and ends up heckling the CEO dad for ruining the environment and selling out to the corporate man.”

Gideon couldn’t help himself. He laughed.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t think it was so funny if she told your first real boyfriend that he had a muddy aura and really needed to meditate in order to boost his positive energy.”

“Positive energy is a good thing,” Gideon said as they reached the shop, where the lights had been dimmed when Rainbow locked the door for the night.

“You don’t have to patronize me,” Hope said sharply. “I know my mother is odd and flaky and just plain…weird.”

Gideon didn’t head directly for the door. He wasn’t ready to go home—not yet. He studied the crystals and jewelry in the display case, then fingered a collection of silver charms that hung suspended from a display rack. He choose one—a plain Celtic knot suspended from a black satin cord—and slipped it from the rack with one finger.

He turned his back to Hope, cupped the charm in both hands and whispered a few words. The faint gleam of green light escaped from between his fingers. The light didn’t last long; neither did the words he spoke.

“What are you doing?” Hope asked, circling to face him just as the glow faded.

He slipped the charm over her head before she knew what he was planning to do. “Do me a favor and wear this for a few days.”

She lifted the charm and glanced at it. “Why?”

Gideon had gifted the charm with protection. Only members of the royal family—Dante and Mercy in addition to himself—could gift charms, and they used the power sparingly. They could not bestow blessings on themselves, only others, and it was not an ability they advertised. Like everything else, it was a hidden talent that had to be carefully guarded. He didn’t know if this afternoon’s bullet had been meant for Hope or for him, but in either case, he would rest easier if she were protected. Nothing would shield her from everything, but the gifted charm would give her an edge. It would shield her with the positive energy she scoffed at for a few days, at least. Nine days, to be precise.