Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-five

Shelton Sweetwater arrived as twilight descended. Gideon opened the door.

“I see you dressed for the part,” he said.

“This is SoCal,” Shelton said, sauntering into the hall. “Naturally I dressed for the part. Brings back memories of my younger days. Good times.”

With his sleek sunglasses and an ensemble that screamed Armani—tailored light gray sports jacket, trousers, and pullover—Shelton looked like Hollywood’s version of a high-end assassin. The image was enhanced when he slipped out of the jacket and revealed the shoulder holster and pistol underneath.

It was, Amelia reflected, the way Gideon would look if he dressed for the role. Then she remembered how he had appeared in the shadows of the Lucent Springs Hotel when he had taken down three armed men with only his talent. He did not need the costume.

“Amelia, this is my uncle, Shelton Sweetwater,” Gideon said. “You could say Shelton is the butterfly that flapped its wings several years ago and sent out the ripples that created the storm we find ourselves in now. Shelton, this is Amelia Rivers. Just to be clear, she and her podcast pals blame you for their current situation. Goodbye, you two. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

He paused long enough to startle Amelia with a quick kiss and then he was gone, his cane delivering a muffled cadence as he went down the outside walkway to the stairs.

Amelia used the process of closing and locking the door to recover from the small shock of the goodbye kiss. She had not been expecting it, she realized. Gideon was focused on his mission, yet he hadn’t even hesitated. Evidently he assumed that a kiss on the way out the door was now routine for the two of them. That was a positive sign, she thought.

So why was she feeling rattled?

Shelton chuckled behind her. “Always knew my nephew would fall hard when he finally went down. It’s that way with Sweetwaters. Paranormal biophysics in action.”

She pulled herself together and turned to face him—and got another start when she saw that Shelton had removed the ominous sunglasses. He watched her with the fierce eyes of an apex predator. They reminded her of Gideon’s eyes. She would have liked to photograph Shelton, she realized. There was a lot of interesting energy going on in his vicinity.

“Excuse me?” she said. “Paranormal biophysics?”

“It’s all about the resonating frequencies of the auras of the two individuals involved, you see.”

“Don’t read too much into this situation, Mr. Sweetwater,” she said smoothly. “Gideon and I have a professional relationship, not a personal one.”

“I get the feeling your definition of professional and personal relationships is a tad different than mine. Probably a generational thing. Do yourself a favor—try not to break his heart. His mother would be really annoyed.”

“I doubt if his heart is in any danger,” she said lightly. Mine, on the other hand …She pushed the thought away. “Can I offer you coffee or tea? Maybe a light snack? It’s after five and there’s no knowing how long Gideon will be gone.”

“Coffee and a snack sounds good,” Shelton said. “And please call me Shelton.”

“Have a seat, Shelton.” She waved him toward one of the barstools at the island. “Call me Amelia.”

“Thanks.”

Shelton settled himself and hooked one elegantly shod foot on the bottom rung of the stool. She whisked around the end of the island and opened the refrigerator.

“I understand you’ve had a checkered career,” she said.

“Is that how Gideon described my job history?” Shelton chuckled. “He’s in no position to criticize. He took his time figuring out what to do with his own talent.”

Amelia selected a wedge of cheddar and closed the refrigerator. She looked at Shelton across the expanse of the island. “Did he try to become a professional artist before he took up a career as a private investigator?”

Shelton snorted. “He knows he’ll never set the art world on fire. He doesn’t care. For him, painting is a way of centering himself. I was talking about his real talent.”

She set the cheese on a serving board and opened a drawer to find a knife. “You mean his ability to drop someone into a hallucinatory dreamstate.”

“Well, well, well,” Shelton said. “So he told you about his ability, did he? He doesn’t tell many people, you know.”

“He pretty much had to explain things to me.” She went to work on the cheese. “I was accidentally caught by the blast of energy he used to take down one of the bad guys in Lucent Springs.”

There was a short, charged silence from the other side of the island. She turned her head to look at Shelton. She knew from the way he watched her that he was more than surprised. The term dumbfounded came to mind.

“No shit?” he asked.

“No shit.”

“You don’t look too traumatized, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“I wasn’t traumatized.”

“Amazing.” Shelton paused. “It’s a tough talent, you know.”

“Believe it or not, I figured that out.”

“Shows up occasionally on the Sweetwater family tree, but not often.”

Amelia arranged slices of cheese on the tray and added some crackers. She set the small repast in front of Shelton and poured a cup of coffee. In her experience people tended to relax and get chatty over food.

He gazed appreciatively at the snacks. “Thanks.”

“Gideon mentioned that the Sweetwaters have a long history of careers in law enforcement,” she said, trying for an encouraging tone.

Shelton picked up a cracker and topped it with a slice of cheddar. “I’m not so sure I’d go as far as calling our line of work ‘law enforcement.’ But there is a long-standing family tradition of hunting bad guys. You could say it’s in the Sweetwater DNA. With our kind of talents it’s either hunt bad guys or—”

“Become one of them?”

“Right.” Shelton munched some cheese and cracker. “Gideon had a hard time accepting his unique ability when he was growing up. He worked in the family business for a few years while he was in college and for a while afterward, but he made it clear he wanted to go his own way.”

“He didn’t want to join Sweetwater Security?”

Shelton’s brows bounced. “He told you about the firm, too, I see. And he’s only known you for what? Four days? Talk about aura resonance. This gets more interesting by the minute.”

“You were explaining his difficulty dealing with his talent.”

“I warned him he was going to have to make peace with the skill set he got stuck with. Hell, we all tried to tell him. Every Sweetwater knows that you have to figure out how to use your talent. If you don’t, it can drive you mad.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. After he left Sweetwater Security he drifted for a time. He tried the financial world, and he was successful, but he didn’t find it satisfying. Did some adventure travel, but that got old. Experimented with a few adrenaline-rush sports. Fast cars, that kind of thing. Then, one day out of the blue, he decided to set up his little private investigation business.”

“It seems to be working for him.”

“Yes, it does. His parents are relieved, I can tell you that much. Of course, now his mother is starting to fret because he doesn’t seem to be interested in getting married.”

“Marriage is important to the Sweetwaters?”

“Oh, yeah,” Shelton said. “Sweetwaters have always been a tight-knit clan because of the talent and the family business. Don’t get the wrong idea—Gideon’s not against marriage. He just hasn’t met the right woman yet.” Shelton gave her a knowing look. “Or maybe he has. In which case he’ll figure it out damn quick. That’s another Sweetwater trait. They know when they find the right one.”

She glanced at the gold ring on his finger. “I assume you did?”

“Yep. Angie and I celebrated our thirty-seventh wedding anniversary last week.”

She decided she did not want to pursue the discussion about Gideon’s interest or lack thereof in marriage, so she propped one hip against the island, drank some coffee, and changed the subject.

“You don’t seem to be worried about Gideon going out alone to check on the house that Falcon rented,” she said.

Shelton shrugged. “He’s my nephew. Naturally, I’m concerned. But he’s a Sweetwater. He can take care of himself. He’s got to do what he was born to do.”

She nodded. “Hunt bad guys.”

“Well, yes, but the thing is, Sweetwaters tend to specialize.”

“In what?”

“Our clients contact us when they need a specialist who can deal with the category five types.”

She stilled. “Define ‘category five.’?”

“Didn’t Gideon explain? You hire a Sweetwater when you need someone who can track down a bad guy who has a heavy dose of talent. Regular law enforcement isn’t equipped to deal with that sort. There’s a saying in our business. It takes a psychic to catch a psychic .”