Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-two

Half an hour later Gideon dropped his shaving kit into the duffel, zipped the bag closed, and gripped the handle. It was past time to get back to San Diego and talk to Irene, but he was feeling good about the gas station receipt. It was not a strong lead but it was one more data point. You never knew how the pieces fit together until they did.

He wrapped his fingers around the handle of his cane and took one last look around room ten. Experimentally he heightened his senses. He couldn’t see any paranormal evidence of death, but Amelia was right. There was an unpleasant vibe in the space.

He went through the connecting doorway into Amelia’s room. It was as if he had moved through a portal into another dimension, one where there were no bad vibes, just compelling memories. Everything was different in this room because it was Amelia’s.

He contemplated the bed. The sex had been special. Life-changing, at least for him. And he had fallen asleep afterward. He never let himself fall asleep afterward. It always led to disaster.

But not this time. Amelia had evidently slept as well as he had, at least until Katy Shipley had tried to murder him. Details. The important thing was that he had slept next to Amelia and she had not been swept into a raging nightmare. Now, there was an experiment he looked forward to repeating. Often.

The bathroom door opened behind him.

“Gideon?” Amelia sounded concerned. “Everything okay?”

He turned to look at her. She was wearing her usual outfit—black jeans, a black pullover, and sneakers. Her hair was caught in a clip at the nape of her neck. She had a small toiletries bag in one hand. For a moment he could not look away. It took an effort of will to pull himself out of the small trance.

“Yes,” he said, “everything is okay. Ready to go?”

“Yep.” She dropped the bag into her rolling suitcase, zipped it shut, grabbed her camera bag, and went toward the door. “I noticed that Katy Shipley’s car is gone. Looks like she packed up and headed back to San Diego.”

“Yes. Amelia?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you recall having any bad dreams last night?”

“Nope.” She stopped and turned to look at him. “I can’t even remember them now. I slept better than I have in months. Right up until Katy tried to kill you. What about you?”

“I slept fine,” he said. “But I don’t understand why you didn’t wake up in a screaming nightmare.”

She raised her brows. “I told you, I don’t have any issues with your energy field.”

“That makes sense when you’re awake, but not when you’re asleep.”

“How do you know?” She frowned. “You’re really having a problem with this sleeping together thing, aren’t you?”

“I like answers,” he said. “I know I said I don’t buy the woo-woo stuff about crystals, but I’m starting to wonder if maybe there’s something to the claims. Those three rocks of yours were on the nightstand last night.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you dare blame our good night’s sleep on my crystals.”

“Are you upset?”

She raised her chin and gave him an overly bright smile. “Of course not. We should get on the road. Got a two-hour drive ahead of us, and that’s assuming no serious traffic when we get to San Diego.”

She was upset. Maybe annoyed. He wasn’t certain which but he was damned sure the safest thing to do was pretend everything was normal and move on.

“Right,” he said. He went toward the door. “The thing is, I didn’t have any nightmares, either.”

“Gideon, wait.”

The sudden urgency in her voice stopped him cold. She no longer looked upset or annoyed. She looked anxious. Worried.

“What?” he said.

“I think you should take one of the crystals.” She reached into her tote, took out the velvet pouch, and selected a stone. “This feels like the right one for you.”

“I told you, I don’t believe in the power of crystals.”

“But now you’re starting to wonder if there is something to those old theories. Well, here’s your chance to run your own experiments the next time you get involved in a relationship.”

He tightened his grip on the duffel. “I don’t want to run experiments like that.” Not with anyone else , he added silently.

She took a couple of steps forward and held out the stone she had chosen. “Think of it as a memento of this case.”

He opened his mouth to tell her that his mementos consisted of nightmares that he exorcized with his paintings. But his intuition warned him that he really needed to change the subject. The fastest way to do that was to take the crystal.

“Thanks,” he said, aware that he sounded grouchy, not grateful.

She pretended not to hear the less than gracious vibe in his voice and dropped the crystal into his hand. He closed his fingers around it. The stone was pleasantly warm. It felt good. He slipped it into the pocket of his trousers.

“It’s just a souvenir,” she said reassuringly.

“Right. A souvenir.”