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  “What we are,” I mumbled.

  “What?” Babel asked.

  I realized he had a hold on my upper arms, keeping me upright. “What?” I said back as the fog cleared from my head.

  “You going to pass out again?”

  “No.” At least I didn’t think so. But something else nagged at me hard. I’d had several visions in one day. All very clear. Bizarre, but exhilarating at the same time.

  I hugged my upper arms. I would find Chav. I believed it now more than ever. I was exactly where I was meant to be. The shift in frequency of my ability since I’d arrived was all the proof I needed. I would find Chav, even if I had to turn over every rock and expose every skeleton in this town.

  Chapter 4

  Middle of the night, I woke up sticky with perspiration. I couldn’t believe how unbearably hot Missouri nights were. California got hot, it was California after all, but Missouri added an intense humidity that could only be called sweltering. I felt like I’d melted into the bed. I’d left the windows closed at Babel’s urging. Something about “critters” crawling into open spaces at night, and after the whole dog incident, I believed it. But the ceiling fan didn’t work and I couldn’t take the heat one minute longer.

  Sliding the window up, I vowed to bring central air-conditioning to this backwoods town.

  A gut-wrenching scream pierced through the sound of crickets and tree frogs.

  Quickly, I slid the window back down and did the heebie-jeebie dance. It had sounded like a child being tortured, if I could even imagine such a thing. Horrified, I was nearly too immobilized to act. Then I thought about Ruth’s little boy, and I didn’t think I could live with myself if I did nothing and some poor kid got hurt out there.

  I peeked out the window, hoping someone else had heard and gone to investigate. But nope, the street looked pretty damn deserted from what I could see. I’d read that mothers have a predisposition to instantly waking upon hearing a crying child. Where were all the freaking mothers?

  I knew I should go check to see if someone was hurt—after all, it was the civic-minded thing to do—but I was scared. What if something big and bad waited in the darkness, perched and ready to kill the next unsuspecting victim who crossed its path?

  I mean, I’d begun to feel a bit like an unsuspecting victim. Not a great feeling.

  While my head was trying to talk myself out of investigating, my body had other ideas and before I knew it, I was completely dressed. I think my head was the smarter of the two. Not wanting to be completely TSTL (too stupid to live), I called the sheriff.

  “What’d it sound like again, Ms. Haddock?”

  I sighed, rolling my eyes. I mimicked the noise once more. This was the third time he’d asked, and with the muffled grunts of laughter in the background, I was pretty damn sure he’d put me on speakerphone.

  The bastard.

  “Sheriff Taylor, are you going to investigate or not?”

  “Not.”

  “What? Someone could be really injured or worse.”

  “Doubt that. What you heard there, little lady, was what we like to call in these parts, a barn owl. Nothing more than that. And while the sound they make is gawd-awful, we don’t usually have anybody die over it.”

  The whole barn-owl scenario sounded convenient, but much better than my theory of a child-murdering psychopath. For a moment I missed the ex-asshole. Sure, he was a lying, cheating whore of a man, but at least he’d been present. At least I hadn’t been alone to face potential critters crawling through my windows and barn owls mimicking children being tortured by whack-job killers. Even if I hadn’t been psychic, I think my Spidey senses would have been tingling about this place.

  Being that I was hot and not a complete chicken-butt, I cracked the window open again.

  When I turned around, I wasn’t alone. “You again,” I muttered to the mystery mutt who’d started to become a fixture in my life. “How’d you get in here?”

  He cocked his head sideways at me, and his eyes were alight with intelligence. It pawed toward the door. I huffed, hands moving to my hips, and stared at it. I’d stopped being afraid of the animal after the whole restaurant appearance. After all, if it had wanted to attack me, it would’ve done it already. No, this dog wanted something from me, and with great determination, it kept tracking me down.

  “What’s the matter, boy? Is Timmy trapped in the well? Is Johnny pinned under a tractor? Did the cow kick Mary Lou in the head?”

  The dog growled, obviously not a Lassie fan. A growing push inside my head, like earlier, blossomed, giving me a slight headache. I knew what the dog wanted; it wanted me to follow it out the door. Crap. I’d always had a way with sensing basic emotions and needs from animals: anger, fear, hunger, joy, but this…

  “No freaking way.” I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere tonight, so just get that thought out of your head. Or better yet, get it out of mine.”

  It growled again. Anger replaced any residual fear and I growled back. Since when did I start taking orders from dogs? Ex-boyfriend included. “You do know what happened to Old Yeller, right?”

  The animal whined, placing his nose under his forepaw. Great, I’d hurt its furry feelings.

  The push came again. Chavvah. The word came across as a barely audible whisper. The dog began to paw at the door once again.

  “Fine,” I sighed. It was dumb to think a dog might hold some clue as to my friend’s whereabouts, but I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t at least try. “This better be freaking worth it or I’ll be adding dog stew to the menu.”

  Thirty minutes later I was dressed and walking through town in the middle of the night. Dim-witted dog was leading me to my doom. I felt it in my bones. “Ow!”And my big toe, most likely broke after tripping on a concrete step outside one of the storefronts. Peculiar was lucky no one had sued them for piss-poor lighting.

  Darkness and nature noises filled the small town—in San Diego, even at 2:00 a.m., you had cars driving up and down the streets, twenty-four hour convenience stations, and people out and about. After three blocks, really not as far as it sounds, the dog stopped and shifted its ears forward. We were just to the left of the courthouse, with it wide-open lawn of well-manicured grass and precisely placed silver maples and oaks.

  I could hear something, but whatever, or whoever it was, was too far away. There were two options at this point—go back or go forward.

  Pigheadedness moved me forward.

  A couple of dark blobs stood on the other side of the front steps of the courthouse (again, not well lit). I kept my distance and hid behind a nearby tree, not wanting to alarm any potential psychopaths. Besides, the dog had gotten low to the ground and stopped, so I assumed he’d taken me where he wanted me.

  A voice rose above the other. “I don’t give a shit. I’m through. This is over here and now, got it? No more.”

  I should have freaking known. Sheila. I couldn’t get away from this chick.

  The other person kept his side of the conversation quiet and hard to hear. Was she talking to Babel? A hint of jealousy ran through me at the thought. I wanted to get closer, but my legs felt cemented in place.

  “Don’t you dare threaten me. I can bring a whole can of whoop ass down on you.” Sheila again, lots of bravado. Although, the way she’d smacked Babel in the head with such force, I didn’t doubt her ability to do damage.

  My calves were getting sore, so I leaned forward to adjust and chipped the tiniest piece of bark from the tree.

  “What was that?” Sheila snarled. “Who’s there?”

  A sinking feeling started in my chest and ended just below my belly button. Surely she couldn’t have heard the bark chip fall from thirty feet away?

  Before I could think of my next move, the crazy bitch was in front of me, yanking me off the ground and pinning me against the trunk. Her brown eyes looked nearly black in the dark, and she had a maniacal quality I usually liked to avoid in p
eople.

  Sheila held me with her forearm against my chest and with her free hand she pinched my cheeks together, giving me fish lips.

  Unflattering, but effective. I debated for half a second on whether to fight back or try to diffuse the situation. Since I’m a lousy fighter, I went for the latter.

  “You’re really strong for a woman.” (Not easy to say with fish lips, let me tell you.)

  “What. The. Fuck. Are you. Doing. Out. Here?” She pinched hard with each punctuated word. My poor cheeks were going to be sore for a week.

  “I wawws woiwing uhn…” (You try talking with fish lips.)

  She cocked her head sideways. “What?”

  I pointed to her fingers then gently pried them from my face.

  “There.” I rubbed my cheeks. “I said, I was on a stroll with my dog. Hot night and all. AC’s broke. Needed some air. Stopped to tie my shoe. That’s it. Honest.” Well, not completely honest, but close enough, really. And where was the damn dog? Dumb creature got me into this situation then bolted at the nearest sign of trouble. So much for man’s best friend.

  Sheila rubbed her hand through thick, shiny brown hair. Then she gazed down at my shoes. I thanked all that was right with the world (which didn’t feel like much, by the way) that I’d worn my tennis shoes and not my sandals.

  She grunted, digging her fingernails into my arm. “Take my advice, little girl. Next time you feel like walking at night, take a stroll around your living room. You never know what might be out in the dark just waiting to eat you.” She snapped her teeth. Really effective.

  Feeling good and warned, I scraped my back against the tree trying to get some running room. “Uh…Thanks for the advice.”

  Before she let me go, an image of her and Judah seriously making out flashed in my head. “Jeezus.”

  “What?”

  She’d finally unlatched herself from me and I didn’t want to give her an excuse to “bring a whole can of whoop ass” down on me, so I said, “Nothing.”

  But come on! This chick definitely liked to keep it in the family. Babel and Judah. And what about Judah? First I’d seen him kissing Ruth, now Sheila. What a man-whore. I mean, I liked Ruth, but she was a married woman with a gazillion kids. And Sheila, well, she obviously got around. Curiosity got the better of sense, and I decided to risk an ass kicking.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt you and…”

  She glared. I could swear her eyes flashed with some unholy light. “None ya.”

  “I just mean, it sounded pretty serious.”

  Her brow narrowed and she pursed her lips. “What exactly did you hear, Sunny Haddock?”

  Uh-oh. Crazy knew my name. “Not much. It just sounded like you were breaking up with someone.” Which it had. “But I couldn’t hear a whole lot.” Which I hadn’t. “But I don’t mean to pry.” Which I really did.

  There was something innately fascinating about Sheila. Sort of like a ten-car pile-up on the freeway. It’s hard not to slow down and take a good long look no matter how disturbing you might think it is.

  She turned on her heel and walked off into the night with the parting words of, “Go home, Sunny Haddock.”

  I got the distinct feeling she didn’t mean the diner. When I got back to Sunny’s Outlook, I allowed the tension to leave my body and breathed a sigh of relief.

  The light came on, and I saw Babel standing near the switch. “You okay?”

  To say I nearly jumped out of my skin was an understatement. “How did you get in here?” I’d locked the door when I left; at least, I was pretty certain.

  He held up a ring of keys. “I have an extra set.”

  “Why?”

  Babel arched a brow. He took a step toward me, holding out the keys. He jangled them in the air like a dangling carrot. “Chavvie gave them to me.”

  “I don’t know that I like you having a copy.”

  “I just thought…”

  Before I knew what had happened, he was inches from me. I felt woozy and just a little breathless.

  “You thought wrong.”

  His fingers laced with the metal keys traced a path down my bare arm. “I don’t think so.”

  Before turning to a complete pile of slush, I stepped back, just out of his reach. Babel made a lot of assumptions about our level of intimacy, and I planned to set him straight. “Hold up, fella. You’re definitely cute. I’m not going to lie and say I don’t find you attractive.” It’s hard to fake “no chemistry” when it’s thick in the air. “But not only are you a decade younger than me,” which I could get past under different circumstances, “but you’re also Chav’s brother.” Which I couldn’t get past. You just don’t do your friend’s exes or siblings. It’s like an unwritten code. “Beyond that, there is nothing between us.” My heart sank as I said it.

  Babel pulled on all my emotional and physical strings. Maybe because we both loved Chav and our mutual concern pushed all the right buttons in me. My reaction to Babel reminded me of the first time I met Chav, only without all the pining and puddling. After meeting the tall brunette, I’d instantly wanted to be her friend. To be close to her. Chav had told me once that our friendship was yin and yang. A perfect balance. I think the reason Babel freaked me out so much was that I felt the same intense connection to him that I did with Chav, only more pervy.

  “I think you know that’s not true, Sunny.”

  I was angry. More than maybe I should’ve been. Suddenly, I realized why. “Were you just over at the courthouse with Sheila?”

  He looked genuinely confused. “Sheila? When?”

  “Never mind.” It hadn’t been Babel with her out there in the darkness. Inside—and childishly, I might add—I did a happy dance.

  Babel leaned forward and breathed in deeply. His lip curled in a snarl. “Did she hurt you, Sunny?” He sniffed at my cheeks where she’d pinched me; then he inhaled the area on my arm that she’d grabbed. A rumble drew from his throat.

  “I…no.”

  Anger brimmed his words as he lifted my chin. “Your cheeks, they’re red and slightly bruised. I know Sheila had something to do with it. I can smell her on you. Tell me.”

  “It’s nothing. Really.” Smell her? What the heck? “I think I just surprised her is all.”

  “I’ll talk to her.” His thumb brushed my cheek. A flash of vision haunted me. Babel and Sheila had bonded over the mutual loss of his brother. And even though nothing had gone on between Babel and me, inexplicably, I felt like the other woman. It made me ashamed.

  “She’s not a bad person. I’m sure.” What a stupid thing to say! She was bad. Horrible even. But if Babel and I got involved there would be drama, drama, drama between me and the nut job long after he was gone. I didn’t want it or need it. “Stay out of it. I can handle myself.”

  His lips relaxed into a half smile, turning me back into slush. “Of course you can.”

  My knees buckled for a second. Crap. Why did he have to be so sexy? “Babel,” I said firmly, trying to sound in more control than I felt. “Is there a purpose to tonight’s visit? Other than the initial scaring the bejeezus out of me?”

  “Sheriff called. Said you were nervous about a barn owl. He thought I could come over and reassure you.”

  The way he said “reassure” made it sound like a naughty, naughty word. I’m almost positive when the sheriff had said it, he hadn’t made it sound that way at all. “Consider me reassured. Anything else?”

  “Do you want me to stay?”

  Yes. “No.”

  “I could sleep on the couch. It might make you feel safer, what with all the dogs and owls creeping around you.”

  Okay. “No.”

  “You sure?”

  No. “Yes.” I was a woman of many contradictions. My brain had apparently joined forces with my libido, but at least my mouth hadn’t betrayed me.

  He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  “You can take the couch.” Traitorous m
outh! “Just for tonight, though. And don’t be getting any ideas,” I added. After all, I was in control. Right?

  Babel winked. “Got it. No ideas.”

  Chapter 5

  The next morning I jumped out of bed, ran a comb through my hair, brushed my teeth, and pinched my cheeks for color before casually strolling into the living room.

  Unfortunately, it had all been for naught. The spare blankets I’d given Babel were folded neatly on the side of the couch, and he was gone. No note, no nothing. Which shouldn’t have pissed me off, but it did. How come he hadn’t stuck around? I felt like a one-night stand without all the hot, sexy fun that comes before the shame and regret.

  Ruth stopped over and invited me to go to Lake Ozarks. She enticed me with the promise of name-brand outlet malls. I’m weak. What can I say? Besides, I needed a distraction. We went in her car, and during the drive, I found out that the only access road in or out of Peculiar was the long one-lane bridge I’d come in on. I enjoyed being a passenger. The country was beautiful and lush and green, something San Diego lacked, especially during water shortages. I hadn’t really paid attention when I’d driven in—more focused on the destination than the journey.

  After we’d finished shopping, (and hell yes, we shopped! I found some really cute things for the restaurant at an antique mall), Ruth said, “Are you sure I can’t talk you into getting a hotel room for the night, Sunny?”

  “Don’t you have to get home?” After all, Ruth did have a dozen kids.

  She shrugged. “Sometimes it’s nice to get away.”

  I could see that. Hell, if I had that many ankle biters I’d want to run away. But damn, I’d already run away from home once before, and I wasn’t looking to go anywhere else at the moment. “I have some stuff I need to do in the restaurant today. Plus, I want to go through Chav’s things and see if I can get a clue to where she is. You don’t mind, do you?”

  Ruth tensed, pursed her lips, and wiggled them. She minded. “Please, Sunny. You don’t want to go back to Peculiar. Not tonight anyway.”

  “I had a good time today, Ruth.” In other words, she was killing my buzz.