Mind Games (6 page)

Sparrow had had one hell of a morning, and this last vision made it even harder to keep it together. Her life was unraveling around her in slow motion, taking her sanity bit by bit. Damn, she didn’t want him to see her like this. She needed time alone to figure out what was going on.

She followed Derrick through the house while he searched for signs of an intruder he wouldn’t find. She wrapped her hand around his arm. “Stop. She’s gone.”

He shook free from her grasp. “Did you see her leave? When I came in, you were stabbing at the air with a pair of scissors.” He continued from one room to the other.

How could she explain the vision to Derrick? The girl in her house was the same girl she’d seen in the ocean. And that girl was dead. She couldn’t tell him. He’d take her to the hospital for a psychological evaluation, and that scared her more than the dead girl haunting her.

“This doesn’t make sense. If someone was here, why didn’t she take anything? Why did she ask you if you remembered her? Did you?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? Did you recognize her or not?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a second. He dragged his hand through his hair.

“She looked familiar, but Derrick, honestly, I don’t know. It all happened so fast, and she scared me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m worried about you. I’m certain I would have run right into this girl if she got nervous and ran out. I heard you scream, so either she’s still in the house, or she’s invisible. I think you should go to the hospital and get checked out. Maybe you need an evaluation.”

Hospital? Evaluation?
She knew it. He didn’t have to complete his sentence. He couldn’t force her to have a psychological
evaluation. How could she tell him about the visions now?

“No.” She folded her arms across her chest, meeting his eyes. “Absolutely not. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“This morning you told me you heard someone calling your name, and you don’t remember leaving your house. Now you’re telling me someone was in your house and asked if you remembered them. I’m sorry, but I can’t help but wonder if you’re under too much stress. This volunteer work can get to a person. Maybe you’re getting too attached to the kids you see.” His chest inflated, and he placed his hands over her shoulders. She didn’t appreciate his protective attitude. She could handle working with those beat-down kids just like he did.

She laughed. “Me? What about you? You spend hours driving the RV in some of the worst areas of the city helping homeless runaways and barely take a salary for yourself from the
real
patients you see.”

A shadow darkened his normally pleasant eyes and his lids lowered. He dropped his hands from her shoulders and took a step back. She’d struck a nerve with him.

“All my patients are real. All of them. Not just the ones that can afford to pay me. As for my salary, I don’t ever recall sharing my net worth with you. I suppose that’s something people from Crystal Cove are accustomed to flaunting. Sorry to disappoint.”

She cupped her hands around her nose and mouth, outraged by his insinuation. It wasn’t like Derrick to be coarse and rude. She wasn’t even sure how to respond to his squinted, glaring eyes and superior attitude. Her hands fell from her face. She released a deep breath and clapped her hands to her hips.

“Dr. Sloan, I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood me. I only meant that you work too hard. You don’t enjoy life.” He’d better reconsider his assumption about Crystal Cove and its residents.

“I like helping people, Ms. Von Langley.” He ran his hand through his mop of hair. He winced and lowered his arm, massaging at the pain.

“And so do I,” she replied, concerned at the pain watering his eyes.

As a sort of peace offering, she went to him and rubbed at the ache he was trying to reach. She pushed the heel of her hand into his knotted muscle and jumped back when he yelled something that sounded like
ouch.

“That hurts. Give it a day or two and then I’ll take you up on a massage.”

She slid her hand under the tails of his button-up shirt and felt a swollen lump. She massaged her fingers into the fleshy mass. Derrick’s head met his shoulder.

“Okay, let’s have a look.”

“I’m fine, really.”

She came to the front of him and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. “Sparrow…” He grabbed her hands.

“Oh, no, I took my shirt off for you this morning. Obviously, you’re hurt.”

She unfastened the rest of the shirt buttons and pushed it off his shoulders. The large raised and purplish-blue bruise surprised her. “Derrick, what happened?”

“I was out and…”

“And one of those kids attacked you? Unbelievable. I think you’re the one who needs a doctor.” She stepped behind him and continued to examine the knotted wound, touching the soft spot.

“I’m fine. Besides, it’s the kick in the crotch that has me more worried.”

“What? Let me see.”

He spun around and looked at her with large eyes that said,
You’re kidding, right?
She clasped her hands around her mouth and nose, hiding behind her embarrassment and the laugh bubbling in the back of her throat. Her cheeks grew warm.

“I don’t think so, but maybe I’ll let you massage it in a day or two.” He burst out laughing.

She dropped her hands from her face and laughed with him before she slugged him in the arm. “Nurse Sparrow to the rescue.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her against him. “I haven’t played doctor in years.”

“Well then, this should be fun. How’s the RV?”

He dropped his hands from around her waist, paced, and dragged his hand back through his ruffled hair. “They raided it looking for methadone while I was on the ground writhing in pain. I got up and started the damn thing with the two of them in it. The boy jumped out the back and the girl who kneed me was standing on the metal bumper. The kid yelled for her to jump. I panicked and stopped the RV so fast she fell off the back too.”

Sparrow’s hands flew over her face, and she gasped, anticipating the worst.

He waved his hand back and forth in the air. “She’s not dead. But she’s hurt. I think she might have broken her ankle. I don’t know.” He ran both of his hands through his hair, squeezing fistfuls of locks at the sides of his head. “I need to find her. I have to know she’s all right.”

“Oh, Derrick.” Sparrow got on her toes and reached up for his hands, pulling them from his skull. She squeezed both of them in hers. “It’s not your fault. She’ll be okay.”

“But what if she isn’t? That’s why I’m here. Will you help me find her?”

“Me? Derrick, I think you should leave well enough alone.”

“Yes. You. She might not spook at the sight of another female. I heard him call her Angel. She’ll trust you. She’s going to think I’m some
perv
if I try to pick her up in my car. I don’t know if she’ll recognize me. She’ll be more comfortable if she sees a woman in the car. She’ll trust you.”

His pleading eyes and begging expression on his face sent a slow tremble through her body.
She’ll trust you.
She took a deep breath. Her hands started to shake.
She’ll trust you.
The dead girl flashed before her. Derrick’s speech blurred. Her stomach churned. She clasped her trembling hands around her face, feeling like a scared teenager all over again. She remembered the night she and another girl secretly set off for the beach. The last time she
helped
rescue a runaway, the girl ended up dead. She shook free of the memory.

“I shouldn’t have asked this of you. Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital.” He pulled her hands from her face. “Baby, you’re shaking. Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you while the doctor looks you over.”

“No, Derrick. I’m just a little rattled.” She shook his hands from hers and went into her studio, grabbing an oversized bag from the walk-in closet. She stuffed a thick yoga mat inside the bag. Not that she needed the mat. She had plenty at her teaching studio. “I’ve got a yoga class in an hour, and I don’t need to see a doctor. I tell you what, come back later, and I’ll help you find the girl.” She’d saved herself from a trip to the hospital. “Besides, if I need to see a doctor, I’ve got you
and
my father.”

She crammed a towel, brush, hair ties, and CDs into the bag then rushed to her bedroom in search of her hooded sweat jacket, with Derrick on her heels.

“Well, then maybe you should talk to your dad about this.”

My father is the last person I should talk to. He overanalyzes everyone.

She dropped the oversized bag and shoved her hand against her hip. “What are you suggesting? My father treats adolescents with behavioral problems and emotional disorders.”

“I’m not suggesting anything, other than I think you’re stressed out. He’s the doctor of psychology, not me. Obviously, someone was here. The floor
is
wet. The question is: how did she get out without me seeing her? Something else has me puzzled.”

She yanked her jacket from the hanger and slammed the closet door shut. “What?” She stormed around the room cramming more stuff she didn’t need into the bag.

“That spot on the floor is soaked. If she left through the front door, I’m sure she would have left wet tracks on the carpet on her way out.”

She shrugged. He looked over his shoulder to her studio and then at the sliding glass doors to her balcony. He crouched down and touched the floor. “It’s not wet.” He went back into her studio, playing detective. He wouldn’t let this go.

The questions he’d bombarded her with made logical sense. She rearranged the items she’d tossed into the bag. He was a doctor. Eventually, he’d figure out that she was
seeing things.
If he hadn’t already. Was he waiting for her to tell him about her visions? Derrick took the bait when she’d mentioned her father, suggesting she talk to him. She wasn’t overstressed. She practiced yoga daily and led a peaceful life. Those kids didn’t affect her the way they did him. She wasn’t out to save the world.

She stopped fidgeting with the bag, conflicted about telling the man she was falling in love with about the visions. She’d never imagined their lives reconnecting. Not that she’d thought about him much in later years, but she did sometimes wonder what had become of the boy who hardly noticed her.

Should she confide in him about Dana? But how could she explain the teleport to Dana’s backyard? Had she really been there or had she only
seen
him commit suicide? How could she explain to him she believed she’d helped Dana take his life? He and her father would commit her. The eerie mantra from the night Dana died filtered out her thoughts and repeated.

You know what you must do, you know what you must do…

He finally returned to her bedroom. “Derrick, I have to get ready for this class. I don’t have a good explanation for any of this. I need time to sort things through. You understand?”

“I don’t mean to push. I only want to help. Maybe we should call the police?”

She nodded and picked up the bag, forcing Derrick to follow her to the front door. “And tell them what? She didn’t hurt me or steal anything.”

“What if she comes back? We should at least file a report of the break-in.”

“No. I appreciate your help, really I do.” She touched the side of his cheek. “I just don’t have time to do this now. I’ve got this class. Give me some time to retrace my steps and we’ll talk. Okay?”

“Sure. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll try. You’ll help me find this girl?”

“I said I would.” She noticed her short, clipped answer and could feel her temper getting the best of her. She pulled the front door open. “We’ll talk later. I have to go now, and I need time alone to clear my head before class.”

“Hey.” He reached out and wrapped his hands around her waist, his fingers drumming against her sides. She smiled up at him. “What?”

He pulled her closer. She leaned back against his hands knitted together at the small of her back and gazed up into his concerned brown eyes. Her hostility drifted away. He lowered his head to hers and kissed her. His velvety-soft tongue gently separated her lips and slid inside. She dropped the bag and linked her arms around his back, reaching up on her tiptoes and hooking her fingers around the tops of his shoulders. He playfully pulled her tongue into his mouth. She melted into the molten kiss. Heat stirred in her stomach, sending a warm, tingling sensation straight through her extremities and to her most intimate spot.

“That’s what. See you tonight.”

Breathless, she uttered, “Uh-huh.”

She stood there for minutes staring at her front door after he’d pulled it closed. She couldn’t remember another man kissing her with such passion. There was sincerity and honesty in his kiss. It was sensual without being sexual. And it left her wanting more, much more of him.

She couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to wake up in his arms, to feel his naked body tangled in hers, his breath in her face, his eyes gazing into hers, coaxing her to make love in the morning sunlight.