Chris came home early. I wasn’t expecting him to walk in, so when he did, my eyes got misty. I hugged him tight, holding him a little longer than usual. Tears welled up at how close to death I’d been. Again. A few tears leaked out, but I managed to stop from gushing, and the moment passed.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said wiping my eyes. “I’m good now.”
“So what happened?” He was dreading my news, hoping I wasn’t involved in any way, shape, or form with Mercer’s death.
Knowing what he thought made it even harder. Should I tell him everything? Would it be worse for him to know Mercer had almost killed me? I’d been thinking about what to tell him all afternoon. Now that he was here, I still didn’t know.
“Did you know I just realized something today?” I asked instead.
“What’s that?” he said.
“That I mostly only swear when I’m around Uncle Joey.”
Chris chuckled. “I’m not surprised.” Then he got serious. “So tell me what happened.”
We went outside on the deck, and I began by explaining that Uncle Joey had called me, saying his driver would be there to pick me up. “It turned out Mercer was the driver. I had no idea what was going on or who he was working for, but it scared me to death.”
He could hardly believe it. “So why did Mercer pick you up? Who was he working for?”
“I think by then he was working for Uncle Joey, although Jackie thought he was working for her.” I explained how Jackie brought Mercer in to threaten Carlotta’s life if Uncle Joey didn’t give her the five million, and how Uncle Joey paid Mercer one hundred and fifty grand not to kill Carlotta.
“So Mercer took the money and ran?”
“Basically.”
“So how did he end up dead at the courthouse?” he asked.
I sighed. “That’s another story. Let me finish this part first.”
The phone rang before I could say another word. I checked the caller ID. It was the police. “I think it’s Dimples. I’d better take this.” Chris hid his irritation with a quick nod, and left to change his clothes.
“Hi Shelby,” he began. “Just thought I’d better let you know that Mercer is no longer a threat. We found him shot in the head on the courthouse grounds.”
“Yes, I heard. Chris was there and called me. Do you have any idea who did it?”
“None,” he said with alacrity. “But we’re thinking it was a professional, like someone took a hit out on a hit-man.” I could hear the smile in his voice. He cleared his throat. “Do you happen to know anything about this?”
“Me?” I squeaked. “No, not a clue.” Of course he had to ask, but was it because of my premonitions? Or because of my ties with Uncle Joey? I should have been prepared for the question, but I wasn’t.
“Well, okay,” he said. “We don’t have much to go on. No one saw anything suspicious, and there are no leads, but I thought I’d pass it by you. If you hear anything or get any premonitions…you’ll let me know. Right?”
“Sure,” I said. “Anything I can do to help.” I bit my lip, knowing I was lying through my teeth. And Uncle Joey thought I was bad at it?
“Thanks again for your help yesterday. How are you holding up? After what happened I was a little worried.”
“I’m good,” I said. If he knew everything I’d been through, he wouldn’t be asking. Yesterday was nothing compared to what had happened today. “Is Jessica Palmer going to be all right?”
“Yes, which reminds me…the mayor has requested that you and Chris come to the Official Museum Opening Gala two weeks from tonight. He has something he wants to present you, but I promised him I wouldn’t tell you what it was. Can you come?”
“Um…I think so.”
“That’s great. Since you’re the guest of honor it will mean a lot to have you and Chris there. I’ll send along the invitation. Just be sure to mark it on your calendar.” He thanked me again, and we disconnected.
Chris had come back while I was still on the phone and opened his mouth to ask what Dimples wanted. Before he could say a word, the doorbell rang. It was our pizza.
“That’s dinner,” I said brightly, rushing toward the door.
“Didn’t we just have pizza the other night?” Chris was remembering that night. It was right after the Mexicans had nearly killed me. If I’d ordered pizza again so soon, did that mean it was the same scenario and Mercer had almost killed me? He shuddered. Did he really want to know?
I called the kids to come and eat, grateful for this little reprieve. Chris was too. He was hungry and figured the pizza would help fortify him for what was to come. Everyone snarfed down the pizza, and in no time, dinner was over.
Both Savannah and Josh had plans with their friends. Savannah was watching a movie at her friend’s house, and Josh was playing soccer. I made them both promise to be home by eleven, or call and let me know what they were doing. They grumbled, but when I wouldn’t back down, finally accepted it. Especially with Chris backing me up.
They left, and Chris tugged me into his arms. “Good job with them,” he said.
I smiled and kissed him. “Hey…and we’re home alone. What could be better?”
“I’d like to show you,” he said. “But I guess I’ll have to wait until you finish your story. I think I’m ready to hear it…as long as it’s not too long.” He was really thinking that part of him dreaded knowing what happened. Mostly because he wasn’t sure he’d like it. “So Mercer picked you up as Manetto’s driver, but it was Jackie who hired Mercer in the first place?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, pulling him onto the couch where we could get comfortable. “She wanted to get the money before Uncle Joey did. She thought if she had it, Uncle Joey would have a reason to find her and leave Carlotta. I don’t think she was counting on Uncle Joey’s son Miguel.”
Chris raised his brows. “His son was there?”
“Yes.” I told him about Miguel and Carlotta and how neither one of them was sure he was really Uncle Joey’s son.
“Wait a minute,” he interrupted. “So is he Manetto’s son or not? Weren’t you able to pick that up?”
“No, I mean yes…I’m telling you what I picked up, not what they said. When I told Uncle Joey Miguel might not be his son, he said he didn’t care. He was willing to claim him without knowing for sure.”
“Wait,” Chris frowned. “You told him that?”
Oops. Chris caught the guilty look on my face and closed his eyes. He was swearing. A lot. “I can hear that,” I said.
He took a deep breath and caught my gaze. His brows were drawn together and he was thinking this was the worst thing that could happen. Somehow I had let Manetto know my power was back. This was why he should have been there. He could have helped protect me from myself. How could I be so stupid?
“I can still hear you,” I repeated. “And it’s not what you think.”
“You mean he doesn’t know?” His voice brightened with hope.
I shook my head. “He knows,” I said defeated. “But he tricked me.” That sounded pretty lame, but what Chris was thinking was worse. Did he really think I was that stupid? That the only way I could have gotten out of it was if he’d been there to “protect” me? Anger simmered, and I fought against indignation.
Chris realized I was mad, but he didn’t want to think it was anything he’d done. He was mad too…and disappointed. What was I thinking? How could I let Manetto know? Now our lives were ruined. Manetto would never let me go. How could we ever live normal lives again? Manetto would always be there. This was a disaster, and it was all my fault!
“Chris,” I whined. “Stop it! Do you think for one minute that I wanted this? It happened. Maybe it’s my fault, maybe it isn’t, but your blaming me isn’t helping!”
His gaze jerked to mine, and he realized I’d heard every one of his uncharitable thoughts about me. I blinked back tears and he felt even worse. But he was still mad, and he couldn’t let it go.
“It’s not as bad as you think,” I reasoned. “If you’d just calm down and give me a minute to explain, you’ll see that.”
I wiped the tears away and caught that now he was upset that I was reading his thoughts. Where were my shields? What happened to that plan? He’d say something to remind me, but he knew that wouldn’t help, even though it made him angrier than ever. Plus I’d probably just picked all that up and heard it anyway. So what difference did it make? He was screwed no matter what. Maybe he should just leave until he was under control. Take a drive or something. He didn’t want to hurt me…
“Chris,” I growled. “Just say it…say what you’re thinking.”
“Fine,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry you heard my thoughts, but you’re not supposed to be listening, and when I’m upset, I can’t control everything I think.”
“I know.” I put my arms around him. “It’s all right.” He slowly raised his arms until he was hugging me back, and I sighed. “I know this is hard, and I’m sorry. I wish it was different.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “Could you just put up your shields for now? I need to know you’re not going to hear my thoughts, because I’m still pretty mad. I would never say anything to hurt you, but not thinking them, even just a little, is too much to ask right now.”
He was right. I thought mean things about people when I was upset, but I would never say them out loud. “Sure,” I agreed. “You’re right. Just give me a minute.”
I concentrated on turning off the switch that let me hear him, and got an instant headache. But at least I knew it was working. It was almost like the pain blocked the thoughts. So as long as it hurt, I was good to go.
“Okay,” I said. “I can’t hear you anymore. Think whatever you like.” I said that with a smile so he’d know I wasn’t mad, but I don’t think he appreciated it, from the set of his jaw. Oh well. We sat in silence for a minute, each gathering our composure.
“So how did Manetto find out?” he asked, his voice even and steady.
“Hmm…I think it was when Mercer came in asking Jackie who he should kill first. Mercer smirked and pointed the gun at me. It made me nervous. From his thoughts, I knew he wanted to kill me. I glanced at Uncle Joey and when our eyes met, he was thinking that he had everything under control. I nodded, and that’s how he knew.”
“Just from a nod?” Chris asked, incredulous.
“Well…not exactly. There was a lot more to it than that,” I said forcefully.
Chris blew out his breath. “So what happened?”
“After Mercer took the money and left, Uncle Joey told Jackie and Carlotta he would divide the money between them, but Carlotta didn’t want to do that. She felt like it was hers and Miguel’s. Anyway, Jackie said she didn’t want it anymore and ran out. Uncle Joey didn’t know what to do, since that was when he realized he loved Jackie and not Carlotta. But he also wanted to keep Miguel. So you can see the dilemma he was in.”
I waited until Chris nodded before continuing. “He sent Carlotta and Miguel out so he could talk to me, hoping I could help him out. I denied that my powers were back, but he wasn’t having any of it. He claims I’m a bad liar. So that’s when I made a bargain with him.”
“What kind of bargain?” Chris asked, his eyes narrowing.
My shields dropped a bit, so I pushed real hard and the headache came back. That was close, but I could still tell that Chris was not happy. “I told him I would help him, but only on my terms. I told him it couldn’t involve anyone shooting at me. I could accept or decline any time I wanted, and if I accepted, he had to pay me.”
“What did he say?”
“He agreed,” I said.
“Well, I’m not surprised,” Chris said. “He’s a master at finding out someone’s price. I mean, consider yours. Wouldn’t you say the price of your children was worth helping him?”
“Oh no,” I said. “He was thinking about money. He knows I would never agree to help him on any other terms, and I’m too valuable to alienate. I know too much.”
“Hmm…that might be true,” Chris conceded. “So what happened after that?”
“I told him to give the five million to Carlotta in exchange for letting Miguel stay with him. She was planning on leaving him anyway, so this way he had leverage. With Miguel being seventeen and only one year away from independence, it wasn’t that much of a stretch. Plus, he adores Uncle Joey. I signed over the money and left. Oh…and he doesn’t think I should tell you any of this.”
“Yeah,” Chris fumed. “I’ll bet he doesn’t. So what happened at the courthouse?” He was dreading…oops, I caught the shields and the pain came back, blocking his thoughts.
“Uncle Joey thought Mercer might try something, so he sent Ramos to watch out for me. I walked to the courthouse like I told you I would, but I didn’t want to go in. I saw the bench there and sat down, pulling out my phone to call you. That’s when Mercer sat next to me and shoved a gun between my ribs. He said he’d always planned to kill me.”
I licked my lips, dreading this part. “Just before he pulled the trigger, Ramos came up from behind and shot him.” I paused to gain my composure. “He pulled me to my feet and we just walked away.”
“Hmm…that was pretty gutsy,” Chris said. “But I’m sure glad Ramos did it.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “So…he brought you home after that?”
“Yes.” I decided not to tell him that Ramos thought he knew my secret. It wouldn’t serve any purpose other than make him angrier than he already was. “I told him I would probably tell you, but it didn’t seem to bother him.”
“No, I suppose not,” Chris said. “After all, he saved your life.”
Chris just sat there. He didn’t take me in his arms or anything. This wasn’t the way I expected him to act. It made me a little nervous. “So we don’t have to worry about Mercer anymore. That’s positive,” I said, hoping to bring him out of it.
He smiled and glanced at me. I let out my breath, relieved. We fell into each other’s arms. His kiss was almost savage with pent-up frustration. I couldn’t hold onto my shields, and his worry and anger hit me hard. So did his love. They were both so much alike it amazed me. After the torrent of our emotions was spent, we held each other close. “How long before the kids get home,” he asked, a gleam in his eyes.
I checked the clock and smiled wickedly. “Not for another hour or so.”
Much later, I remembered Dimples’ phone call. “Do we have any plans two weeks from tonight?” I asked.
Chris thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. Why?”
“When Dimples called, he told me the mayor wanted us to come to the opening gala for the museum. He said I was the guest of honor and the mayor had something to present me. What do you think it could be?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “Maybe there was a reward for the paintings, and he wants to present you with a check.”
I laughed. “Wouldn’t that be something? We’ll have to be sure and go. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get some fast money after all.”
***
Our invitation came two days later. It was a black tie affair, and not including my old prom dress, which I had kept all these years, I had nothing to wear. Luckily, the mall was open. I searched until I found the perfect dress. It was a long cherry-red, one-shoulder, chiffon gown with a side slit. Next, I found some gorgeous black platform pumps. I couldn’t wait to show them to Chris. Of course they weren’t cheap, so I went to the ATM to check on the account from Uncle Joey. Who knew, maybe there’d be another five million dollars in there.
The balance came up showing an extra eight thousand dollars. Not too bad for the advice I’d given him, minus the two or three times I’d nearly been killed. Add to that all the stress, and I figured it mostly evened out. I could live with that. I could also live with using some of it to buy the dress and shoes. I smiled all the way back to the store.
Another week passed with no contact from Uncle Jo
ey, and I began to relax. Dimples called me a couple of times. The first was to see if I got my invitation and was still planning on attending the gala. The second was to make sure I got the check for my consulting fee. It had arrived the day before, and gave me a feeling of satisfaction that I’d done something good…plus making a little money didn’t hurt either.
Maybe I could go somewhere with my own consulting agency. On a whim, I spent some time picking out business cards and ended up ordering some. My business card said, “Shelby Nichols Consulting Agency” with an S on one side and an N on the other. With a smaller C and A in the middle above the words, it made the acronym of SCAN, which I thought was pretty cool since that’s what I do when I read minds.
On the Internet, I bought my domain name, shelbynicholsconsulting.com, and set up a website for about twelve dollars a year. I put my cell phone number and my website on my business cards and was good to go. The best part was that my first check from the police paid for everything, with some left over.
The day my business cards arrived, I knew it was time to talk to Chris about my idea. I’d been putting it off until things died down, but now I hoped enough time had passed that I could talk to him about it. Of course, I hid the business cards, realizing I’d done it all backwards, but he didn’t have to know that.
I had to wait for the right moment, so just before bed one night I broached the subject. I decided to start with the check I got for helping consult with the police. “Look what came in the mail.” I held it up. “It’s a check for three hundred dollars! Can you believe it?”
“Let’s see that,” Chris held out his hand, his brows drawn into a frown. It was hard, but I used all my will power to block his thoughts, knowing it was essential to our relationship. “What’s it for?”
“My work with the police. Dimples told me to keep track of my hours and they’d pay me. So here’s my first paycheck.”
“That’s nice,” he said, handing it back.
I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and I wanted to drop my shields so bad it hurt. “So, what do you think? It’s great, right?”