Libby frowned at Jackson. "You could just tell me if you'd found something instead of acting all mysterious. My hearing's coming back, thank God, and I'm leaving."
"Let's head back to the house, Libby. I want to make certain nobody broke in and that it's locked up properly. I haven't gone back since the other night. We left in such a hurry and afterward I was talking with Jackson and I don't remember if I locked it or not."
"The house?" Libby hesitated. She didn't know how she felt about the house. Could she go indoors and ever feel safe again--or would she always be afraid someone was watching them?
Tyson curled his fingers around the nape of her neck in a gentle massage to ease the tension out of her. "It's all right, Libby. I'm going to put the house back up for sale right away. I'm not going to have you uncomfortable in your own home."
Libby blinked up at him, shock registering on her face. "You can't sell it, Ty. It's the most beautiful piece of property I've ever seen."
"It doesn't matter how beautiful it is, if you're uncomfortable there. A home should be a safe haven. Like your family home. You and your sisters feel safe and protected and at peace there."
She smiled up at him, surprised that he would have noticed. "Don't sell the house, Ty. Give it a little while and see if I feel differently." She stood up, pushing past Jackson. "I'm going to go see Jonas. Is there anything you want me to tell him?"
"Tell him you plan on seeing Martinelli."
"Very funny, Jackson." Libby took a tentative step. Her legs felt rubbery. The ringing in her ears faded a little, but she still felt shaky. "We don't know if he's the one doing this, but if he is, maybe he'll stop."
"My bet's on Harry," Tyson said. "He has motive and opportunity."
"I'll be talking to him," Jackson replied, "but don't jump to any conclusions."
Libby patted the chair in front of her and looked at Sam expectantly. He gave her a faint grin. "Are you sure it's safe? Isn't this what we were doing before the explosion?"
"I'm going to do a once-over again, just to make sure the fire's completely out," Tyson said. "You two don't move. I'm afraid if I take my eyes off of you, something bad is going to happen."
"I'll go with you," Jackson said.
Libby shook her head. "Your poor face, Sam. I hope Jackson finds those men and locks them up. Are the ribs still hurting?"
"They're sore," he acknowledged. "But I'm having a difficult time seeing and my nose and jaw hurt worse."
"That's a good thing. They didn't break your jaw, but I need to fix your nose." Without waiting, she applied pressure, snapping it back in alignment.
Stoically Sam endured her washing wounds and taping his nose. "Thanks, Libby. You didn't have to help me."
"I'm a doctor."
"You know what I mean."
"Don't worry about it, Sam." Libby patted his arm.
The ringing in her ears was definitely going away, but her headache throbbed and pounded. She wanted to quit smiling and go home where she could shut out the world for a few minutes. She pulled on her sweater and caught up her purse. Tyson could catch up with her later if he wanted.
She cried for no reason at all on the way back to her house. Elle came out as she parked the car and put her arms around Libby.
"Are you all right?"
"I don't know," Libby answered honestly. "For the first time in my life, I'm really afraid. Why would anyone want Ty dead? Whoever it is seems to be escalating their behavior. If it's the same person who shot Jonas, there's a good chance they're going to step out of a doorway and just shoot Ty down. Why, Elle? Even Harry doesn't have a good enough reason in my opinion."
"That's because you don't know how to hate, Libby," Elle said gently. "You aren't a violent person and you don't understand that kind of reasoning."
"Is it Harry, Elle?" Libby clung to her youngest sister. "Is Harry trying to kill Tyson?"
"I wish I knew. We don't want to lose you and I see danger surrounding you. All of us do, yet we can't pinpoint it. Even Jackson feels it, Libby. You have to be more careful."
"How do I do that? I don't know why or how or when. None of this makes any sense. Part of me thinks someone is out to kill Tyson, but there's another part that won't be quiet. And it's telling me in a very loud voice, that someone wants me dead."
Elle paused before opening the door. "If you feel that, Libby, you can't ignore it. Even if everyone around you is telling you something different. You have to believe in your gifts, all of them."
"What gifts? I can heal. The rest of you have all these interesting things you can do. Have you ever seen me levitate anything?"
"No, but you call and send the wind. You reach out and I can find you. And obviously you have a major warning system. Don't discount it because you can't figure out what's happening."
"I know I shouldn't ask you, Elle, but does Tyson feel towards me even half of what I feel about him?"
Elle shoved open the door. She had a very strict policy of privacy towards others. Reading thoughts and emotions without wanting to do so was a tiring and voyeuristic experience, one she didn't care for. All of her sisters were aware of her rules. "I wouldn't ever allow you to marry the wrong man. Tyson Derrick loves you so much that when I think about it too much I cry."
Libby hugged her again. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. I'm so confused right now."
"And embarrassed by the tabloid," Elle added. "Don't let that affect your relationship."
Libby covered her face. "It was so horrible. I can't get the idea out of my head that someone was watching us the entire time. Tyson was so good to me. So caring of how I felt, and it seemed so perfect and right and some stranger took it away from us."
Joley looked up from her guitar. "Don't do that, Libby. Don't let someone turn something beautiful into something ugly. You didn't do anything wrong. You love Tyson. You're meant to be together. Everyone knows it. Let it go."
"I called Mom and she was upset for us, but she said the same thing," Libby admitted. "In all honesty, Joley, it makes it worse that everyone thinks it's you and not me. I feel so guilty on top of feeling utterly humiliated."
"What did Mom say?"
"She said you were a wonderful sister and I should cherish you. She was proud of both of us and she knew it would be difficult for both of us."
Joley blinked and bent her head over the guitar so that the riot of black hair fell around her, hiding her expression. "Well, I am wonderful. We all know that." Her voice sounded a little choked.
Elle leaned over the back of Joley's chair to watch her fingers flash over the strings of the perfectly tuned instrument. "It's always fascinated me how talented you are musically."
"Not how wonderful?" Joley teased.
"That, too. I tried to play the guitar. I practiced for an entire summer."
Joley swiveled around in her chair. "Really?"
Elle nodded. "It brought you such peace. I could feel it radiating out of you, so much happiness even when you were a bit melancholy and I thought it might do the same for me, maybe all of us." She laughed. "I was more annoyed than joyful. I couldn't play the thing to save my life."
Libby burst out laughing. "Elle, you're so good at everything. You couldn't play the guitar?"
"Stop laughing, Hagatha," Elle said. "It's not funny. All the guitar did was buzz at me. I'm the queen of mosquito noises."
Joley shook her head. "You could learn, Elle. I'll teach you if you want."
"Guitars despise me. They are not my friend. I'm quite happy to listen to you play. Let's go out on the deck and look at the moon and you can play for us. I love it when we do that."
Joley reached out suddenly to touch her younger sister. Elle drew back quickly, but Libby saw Joley wince from the contact. Joley glanced at Libby, entreaty in her eyes. Libby smiled at them both. "What a great idea. Who else is here? Joley, why don't you get the others while Elle and I make sure we have enough chairs." As she spoke she casually circled Elle's shoulders with her arm and felt the wel
l of warm, healing energy burst free. It moved through her body and into Elle's.
"It's a full moon tonight, isn't it?" Joley asked as she stepped over to the stairs to call her other sisters down.
"Yes," Libby said. "Well, almost full. And very little fog. A little cool and windy, but it's beautiful."
They sat together for an hour, simply listening to the surf below and the cry of the birds as they sought refuge for the night. Peace seeped into Libby, a small bit at a time. The Drake home was a sanctuary for them, a place to retreat and revitalize.
"I feel Hannah," Elle said suddenly. She closed her eyes and put her hand on Joley's shoulder, amplifying the connection. "She's standing by an open window looking towards us and she's crying."
"Is it Jonas?" Sarah asked.
Elle shook her head. "No, she's just feeling alone without us, and Jonas isn't a very good patient. He's been particularly difficult and taking it out on her."
Libby stepped out to the railing facing the sea, her sisters behind her. At once she felt the power of the Drake women flowing around her. It was often that way, particularly in the evenings, watching a sunset or in the moonlight. Energy leapt between them and crackled in the air. Joley picked out a soft melody on her guitar, accompanying the crashing waves. The ocean appeared wild, the serenity gone, waves slamming hard against the cliffs and spraying high into the air.
Sarah stepped to the railing and lifted her arms to the sky. Light from the moon spilled down on her fingertips as she wove the beams into fine nets connecting each of her sisters. She whispered softly, the rhythm following Joley's guitar riff and the rhythm of the sea. Kate stepped up beside her sister, shoulder to shoulder, and lifted her arms. The wind answered, surrounding the women, a soft, gentle breeze completely at odds with the power of the ocean beneath them.
Joley began to sing. A song of nature, of unity, of strength and power weaving a bond so tight none could break it. Although her voice was soft and melodious, the clarity rang above the crashing boom of the waves. The wind increased, catching the notes and taking them up towards the stars.
Abigail joined in to harmonize the chorus, the purity of her voice carried on the wind to the water below and the sea creatures answered, rising to perform an acrobatic ballet, leaping, spinning and somersaulting in unison.
Libby turned south, toward a city miles away where Hannahstood alone in a hospital room keeping vigil over Jonas. Libby lifted her arms to the wind, adding her power and healing energy to the gathering strength.
Elle was last. She stood close to Joley, lifting her face so that the moon bathed her in light, so that the beams from Sarah's fingers seemed to surround her. Power glittered like small sparkling gems over their heads. She turned, facing in Hannah's direction, feeling with her mind, a conduit of power, reaching for Hannah, knowing Hannah was reaching back. She waited until the connection grew strong, until the wind increased, whipping at them and Joley's fingers flashed over the guitar drawing out such a melody of power and energy that it fed the wind, fed the intensity until small charges of lightning sizzled across the sky.
Elle joined their minds, heightening the strength and love as they all poured their emotions into the collective universal pool. She threw her arms forward, commanding the wind, and it raced away, out of the ocean, carrying the message to their absent sister.
The music softened. Joley's voice faded away to a last haunting note. They stood waiting beneath the bright moon. And it came back to them. A soft feminine voice on the wind, whispering love and thanks. Libby blew a kiss out over the sea and smiled at her sisters. "I needed you all. Evidently so did Hannah."
"Me, too," Elle added.
"I was feeling a bit melancholy myself," Joley admitted.
Sarah smiled at them. "The best part of being a Drake is having all of you."
16
LIBBY stared out the window as Tyson parked the car in the hospital lot. She wanted him. Every single cell in her body was acutely aware of him. She had been afraid the experience of having her first time caught in a photograph for the world to see would inhibit her for all time, but she had awakened in her bed with Tyson lying beside her. His body had been wrapped around hers, his arms protective as they held her. There was nothing sexual and everything caring and shielding in his body language. Perhaps if he had been aroused and pressuring her, it would have been different, but he had slipped onto her bed, atop the comforter and simply held her close to him.
"You were very sweet to me last night. Did you sleep at all?"
Tyson glanced at her. She'd been so quiet on the drive to San Francisco. It worried him that she might be reconsidering her commitment to him. He wouldn't blame her if she did, but he knew he'd never recover. "I didn't want to sleep. I needed to watch over you, Libby. I've had too many scares lately." He turned off the engine and reached along the back of the seat to wrap his hand around the nape of her neck. "I hope you don't mind. I had to be with you last night."
"I didn't mind at all. To be honest, I expected you earlier."
His fingers brushed against her neck, did a slow massage. "I thought you might need a little time with your sisters. You've had so many things happen lately and I wanted you to have some time to talk things out with them."
He was always such an unexpected surprise to her. She had never considered him thoughtful, yet, with her, he was. "How'd you get into the house?"
"Elle opened the door and asked me the same thing. She thought the gate had been locked, but it swung open when I approached. I found the padlock on the ground."
Libby's heart did a peculiar flip. "The padlock was on the ground?"
"I closed the gate and locked it. You should be more careful. Sarah's dogs didn't even bark at me. I thought they were supposed to be great guard dogs. Neither animal so much as growled. Whoever trained those dogs ripped Sarah off. And if you have an alarm system, I didn't trigger it."
"Did Elle open the door before you knocked?"
His fingers slid into her hair. "Yes."
"Our alarm system was working just fine. And the gate opened because it was you." She flashed a small smile. "The gate and house welcomes those who belong."
"I definitely belong." He rubbed the silky black strands between the pad of his thumb and index finger.
Her smile widened. "That's my man. Totally sure of himself."
"I'm not, you know. I have a few questions that don't seem to go away. For instance, you aren't thinking of breaking up with me, are you? You've been so quiet and distant the entire drive, and you didn't say much this morning when you woke up."
She touched his jaw, a soft, tentative brush of her fingers. "I woke up and saw your face and thought I wanted to wake up like that every morning. You were looking at me and I can't even begin to describe the look you had on your face." Love. Adoration. Neither word could come close to the stark intensity she saw shining in the depths of his eyes. She had known it wouldn't matter how many photographs had been taken or how embarrassed she was. She wanted Tyson Derrick in her life. Not just now, but forever.
"You looked so beautiful."
She shook her head. "My hair was wild and I didn't have any makeup on, but I appreciate that you'd say so."
"You don't need makeup and I love your hair. I've told you that before, Libby." He slid out of the car and went around to her door, opening it before she had the seat belt undone. "Women are weird, you know that, don't you?"
She took his hand and hid her smile at his expression. "We're weird? How so?"
"I just don't understand how a woman can be so beautiful but worry constantly about her hair or nails or clothes. Who the hell cares?"
"You don't care whether or not I look nice?"
"Well, of course it's a plus, Libby, but I didn't fall for your looks." He frowned. "Well, okay, if we're being honest, I noticed your smile. And your mouth. You've got a killer mouth. And your eyes are really pretty." He started through the parking garage toward the hospital.
"So you do thin
k about my looks," Libby pointed out.
"Not the way you do. And I love your hair, frizzy or not. It's so damn soft and smells good all the time." His fingers disappeared into the mass of silky strands. "I spent half the night just inhaling the scent of your hair."
"Ty." She stopped and faced him, her arms circling his waist. "Did you read a book on what to say to women? Because when you want to be, you're incredibly romantic."
"And I'm incredibly good in bed." He bent to brush a kiss across the tip of her nose. "I want you to remember that."
"I remember." She let her arms drop and took his hand so she could walk with him to the hospital entrance. "How many books did you read?"
He shrugged. "All of them."
Libby burst out laughing. "You nut."
"They paid off," he said smugly.
Libby was still laughing when they entered Jonas's room. The sheriff had finally been moved from ICU. Hannah rose immediately to hug Libby, clinging a little to her.
"Thank you for last night," she greeted in a whisper, glancing toward the bed. "He's been in a really bad mood."
"Stop whispering," Jonas snapped. "I'm not a child."
"I wouldn't have known from the way you were acting," Hannah said. "Libby's come all this way to see you. The least you could do was to be civil."
"Great. Stay across the room, Libby. I'm not having you touch me."
Libby studied the haggard face. She'd never seen Jonas look so pale, his face carved of stone, the angles and planes sharp, the lines of suffering etched deep. She blew him a kiss. "I love you, too, grumpy." She picked up the chart strapped to the back of his bed and began reading through the information.
"You're not my doctor."
"Jonas, stop it," Hannah ordered. "I mean it. You don't have to be so nasty all the time."
"No one asked you to stay, baby doll. In fact, it's damned difficult having you in the room watching me as if I were a little baby every minute."
Hannah shook her head and reached for her purse. "He's all yours, Libby. I'm going home." She turned her back on Jonas and walked out, her head high, but Libby caught the sheen of tears in her eyes.
"Did that make you feel better, Jonas?" Libby asked. "You're such an ass, even when you're hurt."