“Ah, but I do know you. And we are going to be very good friends.”
Sam raised her eyebrows. “So, basically, you’re the crazy one in the family?”
“No. The clairvoyant. The future is my playground.”
“I’m betting it isn’t always a pleasant one.”
Jessie’s bright eyes briefly shadowed. “No.”
Sam sipped her coffee. Then, in an effort to get onto a safer topic, she said, “So, Gabriel’s actually having me tailed because…?”
“Because he believes Hopeworth is after you.”
If last night was any indication, they were. And they didn’t particularly care if they found her dead or alive. Goose bumps skated beneath the small hairs along her arms.
“What makes him think that?”
Jessie shrugged. “I don’t think he’s got anything substantial. It’s just a feeling.”
And feelings were often more reliable than hard evidence—she’d learned that during her years as a cop. “And as the clairvoyant, what are your feelings?”
“That he could be right.”
“Then he should have talked to me, not arranged this all behind my back.”
“Would you have allowed him to arrange it?”
“No.”
“Which is probably why he didn’t bother asking.”
True enough. Sam smiled wryly and glanced at her watch. If she didn’t get moving soon, she’d be horribly late for her appointment with O’Hearn. She sipped more of her coffee and said, “If I admit that I’m on to you, he’ll simply replace you with someone I don’t know, right?”
Jessie smiled, tucking several dark curls behind her ear. “Very likely.”
“Who else has he coerced into this?”
“My husband, Alain.”
Sam raised her eyebrows. “Just the three of you? Doesn’t he intend to sleep?”
“Obviously not. As I said, you mean more to him than he’s willing to admit.”
She’d try to remember that the next time he was giving her hell over something stupid. “Next time you’re on watch, why not give me a call? If I’m off-duty, we might as well be bored together.”
Jessie nodded. “Are you going to tell him you know?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” If Gabriel had the feeling Hopeworth was after her, she wasn’t about to refuse any protection he offered, however covertly. And yet all roads seemed to be leading to that place, and if she wanted answers, then maybe her only real choice was, in the end, to allow herself to be taken by Hopeworth. It wasn’t something she wanted to even contemplate, but it was nevertheless a reality.
“Good.” Jessie paused, green eyes suddenly intense. “Give me your hand.”
Sam frowned and didn’t move. “Why?”
“Because I have an urge to do a reading.” She arched a dark eyebrow. “It doesn’t hurt—unless, of course, you’re afraid of what I might find.”
Which, of course, Sam was. What rational person wouldn’t be? God, she had no past to speak of. Why on earth would she take the chance on knowing that there was no future, either?
How depressing would that be?