A Glimpse of the Dark Side: Adult Paranormal Erotic Romance Collection (3 page)

She frowned a little. Something about this
bothered her. If her mother had some problem with how she was
living her life, Jan wished she would come right out and tell her,
instead of weaving it into elaborate arts-and-crafts projects.

January placed the card gently on a display
shelf, which was otherwise empty. She decided she was probably
reading too much into the cards. If there was one thing she had
learned about people, it was that they had trouble letting go of
the past.

She went into the kitchen to make some tea
before her next appointment. She always scheduled them at least
forty-five minutes apart, to give herself time to regroup. In the
ten years since she had discovered her abilities, she had learned a
lot of things by trial and error. One of them was that using her
talents took a lot out of her.

The day was unseasonably warm, so she carried
her tea onto the back deck and sat down. There was a light breeze,
and the silver wind chimes were making a soft jingling music. She
stared out over the neatly-trimmed lawn.
Perfect for a
garden,
she thought when she had moved into the big, rambling
house. Now it was three years later, and the little plot of grass
was as bare as on the day she had made her first down payment. Next
year, she kept saying,
when the spring comes.

When the spring did come, she could never bring
herself to plant anything. She didn't want to put a lot of work
into something that was just going to die.

She caught her reflection in one of the mirrored
panes of the wind chimes-a small, airy woman with smooth, dark
hair, held out of her face by a mother-of-pearl hair clip. She was
young and, she supposed, attractive-looking at the age of
twenty-four... except for the light, almost silvery eyes that
looked out from behind black wire-rimmed specs-those were the eyes
of a much older woman.

So when her mother argued she was beautiful, Jan
would look at her and smile. And her mother would shake her head
and would tell her that she shouldn't try to look wiser than her
age or she would never find "an exciting boyfriend." They would
sometimes argue about it. Who needed an exciting boyfriend when she
already had a fulfilling career?

And her mother would counter that Jan would need
an exciting husband who would not get spooked by the less ordinary
aspects of her "fulfilling" career.

Is there really such a man?
Jan had often
wondered if there was, but she never voiced that thought to
anyone.

She was wearing neatly pressed khakis and a
plain white blouse. More than one client had told her at their
first meeting that she was not what they expected, but when pressed
to explain what they "expected," none of them could.

She suspected they were picturing a flowery
matron with long, curly locks, quick to hug or laugh, maybe even to
cry. Maybe a graying herald of the New Age, a tie-dyed,
head-band-and-Birkenstock relic from the Summer of Love. No, not
this tiny person who would have looked at home in an architect's
office or accounting firm.

She was careful with words, even stingy, a
better listener than a talker; when she spoke, her soft words
usually met their mark. She was a true psychic who never had the
need to pose as one. At the end of a session, none of the clients
ever wanted their money back.

January sipped her tea and tried to clear her
mind.

Her doorbell rang. She frowned and glanced at
her watch. Her next appointment wasn't due for another twenty
minutes. She tried to ignore the doorbell, but after another ring
or two, she realized that whoever was there did not plan on going
away. She went back inside, setting her mug down in the kitchen on
the way to the door.

A man and a woman, both in suits, were standing
on her front porch. The man was raising his hand to ring the
doorbell again. The two of them had a very downstate look to
them.

"You don't have to keep ringing the doorbell,"
she said softly. "I can hear you."

"My apologies," the man said, and studied her
carefully before continuing. The woman did the same. There was
something very particular about the way they looked at her, and
January recognized it immediately.

"How may I help you, officers?" she asked.

"I'm Agent Ashton Sterling, FBI," the man said,
and motioned to his partner. "This is Agent Carrie Talbot. We'd
like to speak with January Morrison, please."

Her spine stiffened.
FBI. What are they doing
here?

"I'm January," she said, knowing full well they
already knew what she looked like. "How can I help you?"

"May we come in, Ms. Morrison?"

She made them show their badges, then stepped
back to let them in. She led them into her sitting room, which
doubled as her clients' waiting area.

"Please, sit down," January said. When they did,
she remained standing. "What can I do for you?"

"We know that in the past, you've been called in
to help law enforcement find missing persons," Agent Sterling said.
"We have a case that we think you could help us with."

January studied him evenly. Her face showed
nothing, but she was feeling a hot mix of anger and sadness. She
hoped to have seen her last of law enforcement, but her life seemed
to keep bringing her into contact with them.

They were all the same. They treated her like a
curiosity; a silly joke they were forced to listen to. Then when
she turned out to be right, they were terrified and wanted to be
rid of her as quickly as possible.

"Yes, I have helped locate some missing people
in the past. But it's not something I normally do. For one thing,
it's usually the families that contact me, and as you may or may
not know, I don't charge them for what I do."

"We're familiar with your record, Ms. Morrison.
That's why we're here," replied Agent Talbot. She was a tall woman
with glossy red hair cut in a flattering shag-very NYC. She was
thin and well-toned, and her creamy skin glowed with good health.
January wondered when an FBI agent had time to take such good care
of herself. She supposed it was part of the job.

"Does the family know you're contacting me?"

"We didn't want to mention it to them before
we'd had a chance to speak with you," Agent Sterling replied.

January studied Agent Sterling. He was unusual
looking. Not conventionally handsome, but striking all the same. He
had black hair, unwavering slate-gray eyes and lips with a slight
sensual curve. He had a sureness about him, a sense that nothing he
did was accidental or out of his control. He moved with a
mesmerizing grace.

She had a sudden, mad impulse to reach out and
touch his face.

"Ms. Morrison?"

Agent Sterling was speaking to her. She shook
herself out of her daze.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Please, tell me more about this
case." ?

"A SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD GIRL by the name of Lianna
Morgan went missing three days ago from her home in Elizabeth City,
North Carolina. You may have heard about it," Agent Sterling
explained.

"Yes, I did see something about it on the news,"
January answered. She kept her voice casual, though the news story
had upset her deeply. She had switched the channel before she heard
any of the details. "So what it is that you would like me to
do?"

"We're familiar with your special abilities when
it comes to finding missing people, and we thought you may want to
lend your expertise to help find this girl."

"And do you also know that most of the people
I'm able to find are no longer living?"

"Yes, we are aware of that. But you have found
live people before as well."

She shrugged. "True, but the odds of that are
rather slim."

She decided to relieve her curiosity. "Agents, I
just have to ask. Why would the FBI come to me for this case?
They've never approached me before." She smirked. "My abilities
don't seem to be the kind of thing the FBI really wants to
associate itself with."

The two agents exchanged looks, and Agent Talbot
smiled.

"You've got us pegged pretty well," she
admitted. "It was actually the girl's family that asked us to
contact you," she said. "They had heard of your past work and
thought you might be able to help. But, as Agent Sterling said, we
didn't want to tell them we would contact you until were sure you'd
accept."

Agent Sterling broke in urgently. "A girl is
missing, Ms. Morrison. She could still be alive. We're more
concerned with getting her back to her family safely than with the
FBI's reputation. He looked at her with his steady gray eyes. "Now
please...will you help?" he asked.

January had known she would help all along, even
though the thought filled her with fear and pain. When it came to
helping to find a missing person, she knew she did not have a
choice.

But there was something different about this
one. Agent Sterling's eyes were an additional incentive. They were
sincere and urgent; as if he really would try to move heaven and
earth to get that girl home. Those eyes-she couldn't say no to
them.

And that bothered her a bit. Okay, it bothered
her
a lot.

She nodded as she abruptly looked away from him.
"Alright. I'll need a day to sort out my clients."

"We were hoping to take you back with us today."
Agent Talbot said. "We have a plane waiting at the airport right
now."

"I can't do that," January said firmly. "I need
twenty-four hours. I have a business with regular clients. I can't
just take off without any notice. Surely, you can understand
that."

Agent Sterling interrupted. "Ms. Morrison, we
can give you a few hours, but no more. Each minute we waste is
another minute Lianna could be harmed."

"I'm very aware of what can happen," she said
through gritted teeth. She wished they would leave so she could
start preparing for the trip. "I'll try to sort things out quickly,
but I can't give you a definite time."

They stared at her.

She rolled her eyes.
"Fine!
Give me an
hour to make some phone calls and pack," she said in
resignation.

They didn't need to speak to let her know that
was exactly how they wanted it.

She called all of her appointments for the next
four days and cancelled them, telling her clients that she had an
unexpected emergency. Then she quickly packed a small bag.

The agents stood up as she walked into the
sitting room. She saw that Agent Sterling had been looking around
her house, taking in every detail. She knew it was part of his job,
but she felt a sudden self-consciousness.

She had always thought of the simplicity of her
home as tasteful, but now, seeing it though his eyes, it just
looked drab: the gray sofa with slightly soiled armrests, the plain
white walls with no paintings.

Her eyes fell on the silly Valentine's Day card
from her mother, and her face grew hot.

She suddenly didn't feel wise beyond her years.
She felt every inch a sixteen-year-old.

"Let's go," she said sharply.

The agents followed her outside.

At the airport, they turned off on the road that
led to the private airstrips. January would have felt a shiver of
excitement, except that she knew there was a missing girl at the
end of this trip, and the faster they got to her, the better.

Agent Talbot's cell phone rang. "Talbot." She
listened for a few seconds. "Yeah, we're good. We're about to
board." January watched her. She moved confidently and was quick to
smile. She was the kind of person that made other people feel at
ease immediately-the kind of person January liked to be around, but
could never seem to emulate herself.

"You really travel in style," she said as they
got out of the car and walked toward a small jet plane.

"It saves time," Agent Sterling said absently.
He was already opening his briefcase and leafing through files and
photographs. He walked ahead of them and climbed the stairway into
the plane.

"Does he ever...I don't know,
smile,
or
anything?" she asked Agent Talbot as they climbed the stairs after
him.

Agent Talbot laughed. "No," she admitted. "Not
that I've ever seen." She looked after him. "But he's the best
agent I've ever worked with. Maybe the best I've ever met. He's..."
she paused to think of the right word, "unusual," she finished.

January watched the other woman's face as she
spoke. What she saw there amused and irked her at the same time.
She knew she could not compete with Agent Talbot. A woman like that
could have any man she wanted, even someone like this Sterling guy,
who didn't seem interested in anything but his work.

January wondered why it should bother her so
much.

Aboard the plane, the agents briefed her on the
details of the case, as they knew them thus far. They told her
about their interviews of Lianna's family and close friends, and
showed her Lianna's file.

January's heart broke as she looked at the
smiling young girl in the photograph.

LIANNA WAS VERY pretty and so young.

Curly hair like a blonde mop on her head, a
small, pert nose, and mischievous eyes: they looked so much alike,
she could have been Lori's sister.

Agent Sterling sat next to January as she leafed
through the photographs. She could smell his aftershave- pine and
fresh snow. It was making her dizzy, but she tried to concentrate
on the smiling picture of the girl in the photograph.

"We did get something from her best friend that
was interesting, but so far nothing has come of it," Agent Sterling
was saying. "It seems Lianna told her friend she would be meeting
someone special on the night she vanished. She wouldn't tell her
who it was or where they were meeting, only that she was very
excited about it."