Shadowlight

“How long will it take?” he asked her.

“Two days,” she promised. “Three at the most, I swear.”

She knew what she was asking of him. Aside from his possessiveness, there was a more pressing need for her to stay in Fort Lauderdale: their bond. Since Lucan had saved her life by changing her from human to Darkyn, they had never been apart from each other for more than eight hours. The bond between them, which had made them life companions, was enduring and demanding. Sam still wasn’t sure she understood everything about being his sygkenis, but over time she had come to understand that they physically needed to be with each other in order to survive, as much as normal humans needed warmth and shelter and food.

Sam had also been warned by other Kyn women what would happen if she left Lucan. An extended separation would cause both of them to go through withdrawal, first spiritually and then physically. If they were kept apart too long, one or both of them would lose control and descend into madness. In that mindless state, they would kill anything that came near them.

“I’ll be sure to make it back in two days,” she said. “I swear.”

“There is no need to make a vow.” He went to the phone. “I will arrange it so that I can accompany you.”

“Wait.” She went after him. “You’re the suzerain—the ruling lord here. You can’t leave your territory.”

One of his golden brows arched. “Do you imagine anyone could stop me?”

“No, but …” She paused, groping for an excuse. “It’s not standard departmental procedure.”

He offered her a thin smile. “Neither is your being Kyn. When do you plan to reveal that to your police commissioner?”

“You know what I mean—”

“I do.” He stopped her from saying any more by resting a finger against her lips. “Rafael can see to the jardin while we are away, and as you say, it will be for only two days.”

“You don’t trust me,” she muttered, and then the room flipped and she found herself on her back beneath his big frame, her arms stretched out on either side of the bed.

“On the contrary,” Lucan said just before he lowered his head to kiss her. “I do not trust myself.”

Chapter 4

In the morning Angela greeted Jessa as soon as she came through the office doors. Almost hopping with nerves, the young woman informed her that Ellen Farley had been arrested.

“Linda McMann called for you thirty seconds after Cal and I came in, and then when I said you weren’t in yet she told me,” Angela told her, so agitated that she tripped over her own feet and righted herself without pausing for breath. “She didn’t have a lot of the details, but the detective who talked to her said Ellen and this guy she was with are wanted for running this scam and swindling a big New York corporation. Linda says her boss wants a sit-down so he can do a personal thank-you and all that.” Out of breath, she gulped air. “I think she’s sending you flowers, too.”

Jessa saw Cal standing in the doorway of his office and watching them. He didn’t look unhappy or disturbed, but something was wrong.

“Ms. B?”

She focused on Angela. “Everyone is innocent until they’re proven guilty, so let’s not jump to conclusions. Finish up the file and make sure all the reports are complete. Then whatever happens with the charges against Ms. Farley, she won’t be able to sue North and Company for discriminatory hiring practices.” She turned to Cal. “Got a minute?”

He nodded and followed her upstairs. Jessa stopped along the way at their small employee lounge to start the coffee, only to find it already made.

“Angela needed something to do besides squeal and bounce off the walls,” Cal explained as he filled and handed her a cup. “I didn’t supervise, so it’s probably undrinkable.”

“It’s hot, which is all that matters at this hour.” Jessa led him into her office and closed the door before skimming through the messages left on her desk. “You have something on your mind?”

“Ellen Farley, what else?” Cal took his coffee to the window to watch the downtown traffic streaming below them. “She didn’t look like the con artist type.”

“Good ones never do.” She separated the callbacks she needed to make from the message slips. “The FBI will likely want copies of everything we have on her. Give them whatever they want, including the original forms she filled out if they ask.”

“You didn’t seem surprised to hear the news,” Cal said, his tone casual.

“I’ve dug up a lot of dirty little secrets since I began this company,” she reminded him. “I guess it’s harder to shock me.” She glanced over and found he was watching her intently. She set down the message slips. “Something else bothering you, Cal?”

“Ever since Linda called, I’ve been thinking about some things. For example”—he held up one finger—“you pegged Farley as a fake because she was wearing cheap shoes.” He raised another. “You saw through her phony identity, which was good enough to fool North and Company and the rest of us.”

“I notice little details, put things together.” She shrugged. “It’s mostly luck.”

“There’s one detail you forgot.” He lifted a third finger. “You know that the FBI will be calling on us.”

“Of course they will. They’ll be investigating everything she’s done recently—”

“Angela didn’t say anything about the FBI being involved,” he finished gently. “She said only that Farley had been arrested.”

Jessa waited a beat too long before she said, “The woman just moved from New York to Atlanta. It’s only logical to assume that she was wanted by the FBI for out-of-state crimes.”

“Nice comeback.” He nodded his approval. “Only I’m not buying it this time. You knew about this yesterday.” He gave her a measuring look. “You knew, and I’ll bet you’re the one who called and reported her to the feds.”

No one knew what Jessa could do, and as much as she liked people who worked for her, neither could they.

“Sit down, Cal.” She waited until he did. “I’m aware Angela and some of the younger staff believe that I’m some sort of psychic. It’s flattering, I suppose, but I’m not and this has to stop now. I’ve built Phoenix on solid, ethical investigative work. If people spread rumors that I can see the future or the past or whatever, it will get around, and soon every quack in Atlanta will flood through our doors.”

“Would it be so bad?” he asked. “To let people know just how good you are at spotting fakes?”

“If they think mystical mental powers are involved? Yes,” she said. “It would be very bad for business. That kind of thing chases away the legitimate clients. Once the quacks find out that I can’t actually tell them which stocks to buy or investments to make, they’ll go, too. Things like this—Farley getting arrested the day after I flag her—are merely coincidences.”

“Is that right.” He stroked his jaw with his thumb and forefinger. “I wonder how many of the people Phoenix has investigated have—by coincidence—been arrested a short time after for crimes they thought they’d gotten away with.”

He was too damn smart. Jessa had known that from the moment she’d met him. “I couldn’t say. But you and Angela and the rest of the staff work for me. I can’t have this kind of talk going around about me, Cal. Not even in fun.”

“Then you’d better make some changes from here on out,” he told her. “Delegate. Use me to initiate some of the searches. If you have to report something to the authorities, wait a week or two before you make the call.”

He didn’t believe her, and she was running out of lies and patience. “Maybe I should just fire you.”

“You could,” he agreed. “But I’m on your side, and I don’t have to know everything. You’re the best goddamn boss I’ve ever worked for, and that includes my father when he gave me a summer job teaching tennis to the nubile young rich things at the country club he managed.”

“Caleb.” She rested her cheek against her palm. “You’re not helping.”

“You know how we feel about you,” he continued. “You hired me after I’d been blackballed by every decent company in this town. You persuaded the girls in accounting to leave that bookie they worked for only a week before he got busted.”

She made a dismissive gesture. “A friend told me about them. I just gave them a chance to get legal jobs.”

“Karen told me you cornered her in a grocery store and offered her a job she had no training for, and then you gave her an advance on her first paycheck. She said it’s as if God knew she’d gone there to steal some food for her kids and sent you like a guardian angel to stop her. And then there’s poor Angie.” He leaned forward. “After her mom died, which roof was she planning to jump from downtown? Bank of America?”

She straightened. “Angela didn’t tell you that.”

“Someone made a joke about that gorgeous twenty-year-old supermodel who jumped in New York last year,” he said. “Angie blew a fuse. Later I asked her about it, and she said no one can understand how miserable and desperate that girl must have been. Ange made it pretty obvious that she does know.”

“I like to help people, especially when someone is in trouble,” she said in her firmest tone. “That doesn’t make me a psychic.”

“Then why hire me? No one believed that female sales director who accused me of groping her was actually the one harassing me.” He spread his hands. “No one but you.”

“You’re an attractive young man with good taste. She was a desperate older woman with bad teeth.” She smiled a little. “Workplace sexual predators don’t happen spontaneously. You had no history of harassing other women. She insisted on hiring only male assistants. I did the math, Cal.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">