Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-four

Amelia did not wake up in a screaming nightmare.

That was a shock, Gideon decided, but not nearly as surprising as it was to discover that he had not had any bad dreams, either.

He opened his eyes and lay quietly for a moment, giving himself time to assess the facts on the ground. He was lying on top of the bed, fully clothed, but there was a blanket over him. He had no memory of the blanket, so at some point Amelia must have gotten up and covered him with it. Morning light was peeking in around the edges of the window shade and he could hear the shower running in the bathroom.

What’s wrong with this picture?

It was all so astonishingly normal. That’s what was wrong. He did not do normal when it came to relationships. Then again, Amelia had been very clear about their association. They were not in a relationship.

His leg protested when he tried to swing it over the side of the bed. He took a minute to let the pain retreat and then he reached for his cane and got to his feet.

He looked at the three crystals sitting on the small table that separated the two beds. Amelia had set out the stones just before turning off the light. When he had asked her why, she had said her aunt, the maybe-not-so-fake psychic currently giving performances on a cruise ship, had given them to her and that they helped her sleep.

He did not entirely discount the possibility that some crystals had paranormal properties—his mother was convinced they could exert a calming influence on the nerves—but he had always suspected that any therapeutic benefits were due to the placebo effect. He did believe in the power of suggestion. It was just one step away from hypnosis, after all.

Regardless, the bottom line was that he had not caused Amelia to wake up in a nightmare. Granted, it amounted to a one-off experiment. Still. The rush of relief and satisfaction surging through him was more energizing than a triple-shot Americano. He was not in the mood to give the crystals any credit.

He headed for the connecting door, intending to use the shower in room ten.

The envelope was on the floor in front of the parking lot door in his room. There was a note inside. He read it and got another shot of satisfaction, the kind Sweetwaters got when they knew they were closing in on the bad guys. He picked up his shaving gear.

···

Amelia was waiting in her room when he returned. She was wearing what he was coming to think of as her uniform—black jeans and a black tee—and her hair was caught up in a casual twist. She looked ready and eager to plunge into another day of investigation. There was no indication that she had spent a dream-troubled night.

She gave him a disapproving glare. “I can’t believe you went back into that room,” she said.

“All my stuff is in there,” he reminded her. “So is the other shower. I keep telling you the vibe doesn’t bother me the way it does you.”

“I still think it would be a very bad idea for you to sleep that close to such bad energy.”

“You might be right,” he admitted. He paused. “You seem to be feeling rather chipper.”

“Yep. Best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long while.”

“Seriously? No bad dreams?”

“Nope,” she said. She gave him a smug smile. “You?”

“Well, no.”

“I told you so.”

“Nobody likes an I-told-you-so, Amelia.”

“Get used to it.” Her expression turned serious. “I’ve been thinking about your dreamstate issues. I didn’t want to mention my theory last night because you were not in the mood to hear it, but have you considered the possibility that your phobia is somehow connected to sex?”

“Sex?” He was stunned. Outrage struck next. He took a step closer, closing the distance between them. “You know, I woke up feeling surprisingly good. Damned near normal. But you just blew my sunny mood to hell.”

“Think about it.” She took a quick step back, very earnest now. “My theory explains everything. I think you probably had a few bad experiences early on and concluded that you couldn’t spend the night with a date. Now you’ve got a full-blown phobia about sleeping with someone.”

He took another step toward her. “Stop trying to analyze me.”

“My theory also explains why neither of us had any issues last night.”

“It does?”

“Yes. We’re working together, see? We’re not dating.” She moved back a pace and stopped when she came up against the wall. She swept out her hands. “No sex, no problem.”

Gideon leaned in and flattened one hand on the wall beside her head. “This would be a very good time for you to stop talking about my sex life.”

“Okay. I understand you’re a little upset, but promise me you’ll at least think about my theory.”

“I promise I will do my damnedest to forget it.” He took his hand off the wall, stepped back, and held out the envelope. “Not to change the subject, but to change the subject, someone took our bait. I found this under the door. We’ve got a meeting with a possible informant.”

“Seriously? Why didn’t you say something?”

“You were too busy doing all the talking.”

Amelia snapped the envelope out of his fingers, removed the note, and read it aloud. “?‘I know why you’re in town. I was there that night. I have information. The old hotel, eleven tonight. Five hundred cash. Tell no one.’?”

“It might not be legit,” Gideon warned. “Just some local who thinks they can spin a story and collect a quick five hundred.”

“If it’s just an opportunist, why the secret meeting out at the ruins?” Amelia said. “Why not approach us here at the motel or meet us at a restaurant?”

“Maybe our informant is into drama,” he said. “But this note feels real. I think whoever slipped it under the door doesn’t want to be seen chatting with us.”

“Well, we are planning to go out to the ruins tonight anyway. You said I should view the scene with my other vision, and that requires darkness.”

A flicker of dread came and went in her eyes. His irritation faded, replaced with guilt. “I know this is going to be hard for you.”

“I’ll be okay.” She gave him a forced smile. “This will give me an opportunity to work on my own phobia issues. There’s just one problem. I don’t have five hundred in cash on me. Nobody carries that kind of money around these days.”

“Except drug dealers. Don’t worry, we’ll find an ATM.”

Amelia sighed. “This is going to hit my bank account hard. I’m still waiting for payment on my last real estate shoot. I’ll have to go into my savings. Again.”

“I’ll take care of the five hundred tonight and put it down under expenses.”

She flushed. “It’s okay. My friends will reimburse me at the end of the month. We’ve agreed to split up the expenses involved in the investigation.”

“I said I’ll take care of the five hundred.”

“That’s very generous of you, but—”

He took her arm and steered her toward the door. “I’m hungry. Let’s get our complimentary breakfast.”

“Are you pissed?”

“Me? Pissed? Of course not. I’m used to dealing with difficult clients. Goes with the territory.”

“I am not a difficult client.”

“Trust me, you are a difficult client.”