Psychic Link (Linked Inc. Book 2) (4 page)

Chapter
4

Cara’s mother held Adam snuggled in her arms and kissed his forehead as Cooper and Cara’s dad transferred the luggage from her car to his.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing? How are you going to find her?” her mother whispered.

“Maybe hire a skywriter or send up a flare? Ooh, or maybe I’ll leave her a message in the sand.” Cara had no clue how she was going to track down Becca. “Or maybe I’ll look for people doing the downward dog.”

“I’m serious.” Her mother tsked.

“I have no clue how we’re going to find them, but we’ve got to try. Becca’s the reason his sister ran off in the first place.”

“Becca’s premonitions are extremely accurate. If she knows that the ex is going to chase them, then the chances are that it’s true.”

“I know. That’s what worries me.” Thank God her sister didn’t have access to a gun. She’d probably shoot her toe.

“Look on the bright side, dear. Agent Cruz is a good-looking man, smart, and ambitious. He could be a good candidate for a sperm donor. Maybe while you’re traveling, you can convince him to make a deposit, if you know what I mean.” Cara’s mother raised and lowered her brows in quick succession.

“I can find my own donor, and I can guarantee his last name won’t be Cruz.”

“If you say so, dear.” Her mom kissed Adam’s head. “Be careful and have a nice flight.”

****

The flight had been nice. Good weather, decent company, and huge leather seats. The best part was no accidental touches. It would eventually happen. She was about as lucky as the dog chasing the rabbit around a track.

“Is the island everything you remembered?” Coop asked while grabbing their bags.

“Thankfully, no,” she answered, slipping her sunglasses over her eyes. “I think for most of my stay I saw double. Alcohol is not my friend. It’s lost some of its…magic.”

“Sobriety will do that to you.”

That was an understatement. Age had made her more cynical. Betrayals had hardened her against the prospect of conceiving the old-fashioned way and falling in love. She was hopeless, and was bound to end up just like Aunt Betty, only with Cara’s luck, her hair dye wouldn’t be a pretty pink. It’d turn the color of Pepto-Bismol. 

“How about we get some rooms and hit the bar. You know what they say…the bartender knows and hears all.” He walked beside her into the terminal.

The limo ride to the resort was quick. If she’d been back for any other reason, she might have enjoyed the scenery, seeing it for the first time without everything being doubled. Now it was impossible to enjoy the sweat gathering beneath her bra, or the way her sundress had to be held down against the ocean wind as they stepped out of the car among the hustle and bustle of tourists in front of the resort. She held her hand to her stomach to squelch the dancing butterflies. Each person walking by was a potential connection she didn’t care to make.

Cooper grabbed both of their bags and stood next to her. “I was a blocker on the football team during high school. Do you want me to clear the path?”

She shook her head. “I can deflect most of the images if the touch is quick, but too many and it drains me.”

“We’ll make this quick.” He headed into the lobby with her following on his heels. Several people skimmed her arm in passing as she tried desperately to focus on Cooper’s back.

The lobby was filled with
old
people dressed in flower-printed shirts. It was as though they’d just stepped into the middle of a geriatric convention. She’d never seen so many of their age in one place. She wouldn’t be finding her sperm donor here.

“Well, at least Angela and Becca will stick out like sore thumbs.” Finding them should be a piece of cake. Cara sidestepped several people as they made their way up to the reservation desk, where a young woman stood behind the counter.

“We’d like a room,” Cooper announced, pulling out his wallet.

“Do you have a reservation?” the blonde behind the counter asked.

“No,” Cara answered.

“I’m sorry. We’re all booked for the convention.” She smiled sweetly while undressing Cooper with her eyes.

Cara exhaled a long breath. “Don’t you have anything? He’s FBI.” Cara lifted her brows at Cooper. “Show her your badge. Chicks dig that.” Cara leaned toward Coop without touching him.

“Not all,” he grumbled under his breath. 

“Oh, you must be here about the thefts.” She clasped her fingers together. “We still don’t have any rooms for you. Maybe you can try a hotel on the other side of the island.”

A man stepped out from a room behind the counter. “Excuse me,” he said as he approached. “Are you Cara Thatcher?”

Cara shared an uneasy look with Cooper. “Yes.”

“They told me you’d come,” he said, sliding the blonde woman out of the way. “Ms. Becca Thatcher showed me a picture of you. She reserved you a cabana and paid for it in advance.”

“She did?” Cara smirked at the blonde, set her purse on the counter, and dug for her wallet.

“Lovely girl. She also left you a package,” the manager-looking guy said.

He slid the package across the counter along with the paper for her to sign.

“Do you happen to know where I can find my sister?”

“Ummm. I’m afraid not. We’ve been a bit busy at the counter. You might try the pool area or the beach.”

She picked up the brown-wrapped package and hugged it to her chest as Cooper took the keys. Oddly, no visions smacked her in the face. Not even whoever had manufactured the brown parcel.

“Ms. Thatcher mentioned you’d need privacy so she reserved the honeymoon cabana on the west side of the resort, and you have a private pool and a secluded part of the beach.” He used a marker to draw a line from the lobby to the location on a map and handed it to Coop. “I hope you enjoy your stay.” 

Cooper remained quiet until they’d passed the guest pool area and were on the walkway toward the cabana. Trees from both sides of the walkway provided a shaded canopy from the sun. “It could be worse. We could be sleeping on the beach.”

“I’m sure they picked that one since it’s secluded and will give us privacy.”

Cara raised her brow. She knew her sister. She’d picked it because she thought Cara might get lucky, or maybe it had the best Feng Shui. Becca’s safety wouldn’t even be a part of the equation. If it had been, Angela and she would have been staying in that room. Maybe they were.

The canopy of trees gave way to their cabana. It was like a little oasis away from the noise in the resort. The view was stunning. The décor was light and airy. The cabana would have been perfect, if it hadn’t been for the reason they were there. A bed sat in the middle of the room. The position gave the occupants ease to gaze out of the floor-to-ceiling windows that opened. That bed was a baby-making bed, or maybe it had been made for giants. She could see herself having hot dirty sex on that bed. Too bad she was here with Cruz.

“Are you going to open the package?” Coop asked, pulling her from her thoughts of sweat-slicked bodies enjoying the beach breeze.

“Of course.” She dropped her purse onto the bed. She ripped the package open and dumped the contents on the white comforter. An envelope, a red bikini, and a pair of flowery men’s swim trunks tumbled out.

Anger stirred in her belly. If Becca thought for one minute that this was some kind of vacation, then she was more delusional than Cara thought.

“What the hell?” Coop asked, picking up the trunks while she ripped the envelope open. Instantly she was hit with her sister’s vibration, and she started to pant and closed her eyes. Every fiber in her body tingled to life as the energies combined.

Becca stood in front of the mirror looking at herself as she held the paper and spoke. “Cara, I know you got this. We had to leave, but we’ll double back on Sunday. Stay, so we know where to find you.” 

The scene cut off just as abruptly as it started. Cara’s eyes flew open as she examined the empty sheet of paper and flipped it over to check the back.

“What did you see?” Cooper asked, hovering next to her as if he’d been about to touch her.

Before her legs could give out, Cara slid down onto the bed to catch her breath. The energy from fighting the crowded lobby, and now the letter, had drained her like she’d done to her morning coffee. “They had to leave and want us to stay until they return. They’re going to double back.”

“They’re both nuts if they think I’m just going to sit around here until they decide to show back up.”

“You’re right, but I need to rest.” Cara’s shoulders drooped, and she exhaled a long, deep breath. The bed beneath her butt promised a comfortable snooze fest. “The energy from the lobby was too much.”

“Did you get touched?”

She nodded and scooted up onto the bed, resting her cheek on one cool pillow and grabbing the other to snuggle with. They provided just the right support. Those two pillows would go missing when they left, even if she had to sneak one in her bag and the other beneath her shirt. It would give her practice maneuvering with a pregnant belly. “Let me just close my eyes for a little bit, and then we’ll leave.”

If he had a reply, she didn’t hear it, as the sweet, silent darkness quickly worked its magic and pulled her into a restful sleep.

Chapter
5

Cooper left the cabana’s floor-to-ceiling windows open so he could hear Cara when she woke. He was on his fifth lap in the pool under the moonlight. The cool water sluiced over his body as he worked at relieving the tension in his neck. How had he gotten to this point? He was stranded alone, with a crazy, psychic woman sleeping only a few feet away. His sister was going to get an earful when she finally showed back up. She should have come to him if she’d been scared, not some wishy-washy woman she’d probably found by dialing 1-800-NutJobPsychics on the phone.

Cooper emerged from beneath the water to hear Cara’s cell phone blaring the death march for the fifth time in the last two hours. Weird was an understatement. The sound of the ringing stirred Cara awake, so Cooper continued swimming. He’d finished two more laps when he re-emerged into the shallow end to find her standing at the foot of the pool with the phone pressed against her ear.

“Did you know you talk in your sleep?”

She clicked the phone off and tossed her head back to look up at the moon. “Get used to it. It seems we’re stuck here,” she said with a sigh. “My mother left five messages. My dad had an emergency and needed the jet, so he called it back.”

“There’s more than one way off the island,” Coop said, hoisting himself out of the pool. He grabbed a towel, ran it over his body and watched as her eyes followed the movement.

“You can go back. I’m going to stay and wait for Becca and Angela to return. I’ll call you when they show.” Cara spun in place and walked back into the cabana.

“That’s ridiculous. We’ll go back together and figure out another way to track them down. I’ve already got my FBI partner, Howard, trying to find a way to track their movements.” Howard had started to gather both of their sisters’ phone and credit card records. Maybe he’d found a lead.

Cara started digging through her suitcase and pulled out some clothes. “Becca’s visions are never wrong.” Cara clutched the clothes to her chest. “If she said she’ll be back Sunday, then she will. I know you don’t believe in her or me, and that’s fine, but I believe in her, so I’m staying. I hope Howard and you enjoy your search, and I really do wish you luck.”

She might as well have just asked him to believe in the tooth fairy. At least that would have been more believable. Cara headed toward the bathroom.

The room turned cool from the ice in her voice. Coop crossed his arms over his chest. “Why should I believe your sister?”

His question stopped her in her tracks. She slowly turned around and pegged him with her glare. She was getting pissed. Had no one ever questioned her judgment before? He’d seen that look a dozen times before. He knew what was coming next, and he braced for her words.

“Listen, I don’t care what you believe. You came to me for help. Not the other way around. Our sisters are in danger, and I’m not stranding them to fend for themselves. If Becca said she’ll be back, then she’ll be back. I trust her visions, and I trust her. That’s more than I can say about you.”

“I’m not my brother, princess. So you can lose the bitchiness.”

“Yeah, and I’m not your princess. I have a name, so use it.”

“And come Sunday, when she doesn’t show? We’ll have wasted a week when we could have been searching for them.”

“It’s my week to waste. No one is keeping you here, Coop.” Cara’s lips pinched together as fire flickered in her eyes. He was one argument away from having to sleep in one of the patio chairs. He’d slept in worse.

Cara closed the bathroom door, and within minutes, he could hear the water running as she took a shower. It was going to be one hell of a long week.  

****

Cara expected Coop to be long gone when she finished her shower, but she wasn’t that lucky. She’d taken her time washing away the stress from the day, only to emerge fresh and clean to find Coop sitting outside under the moonlight, drinking a beer with the phone pressed to his ear. The smell of tomatoes drifted on the air, teasing her nose as she tossed her clothes back in her suitcase. Her stomach grumbled.

“Something smells good.”

“Howard, I’ll call you back. Keep searching.”

Cara held her grin in check. It appeared Mr. FBI was having about as much luck as Coop and her. Becca was staying off the government radar? Maybe those conspiracy books she read had come in handy. Thank goodness, Cara hadn’t given her
Silence of the Lambs
.

“I figured you’d be hungry, so I ordered us room service.”

Ten minutes ago, she would have argued he was an insensitive jerk. Now he was offering her food. Had there been dessert, she might have apologized too. Cara slid into one of the chairs opposite him and lifted the cover from her plate to find a huge portion of lasagna with breadsticks.

“Italian is my favorite.” And it showed on her thighs.

His lips twitched as he reached for the bottle of wine and poured her a glass. “Consider it my apology for being an ass.”

“Trying to get me drunk, Coop?”

“Nope, just trying to help you relax.”

She took a bite and moaned in satisfaction as a mixture of flavors burst in her mouth. With every savory bite, the tension in her shoulders dwindled a little more. As the herbs and garlic mellowed her, she tried to see Coop in a new light. A guy who ordered her favorite meal couldn’t be all bad, right?

“You’re very…” he started to say.

“Hard-headed?” she asked.

“Loyal,” he corrected. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

Her brow rose, but she bit her tongue against starting another argument. Did he think she wouldn’t be? “You did the same for your sister. It must have been hard to come ask for my help since you’re a skeptic. Becca must have seen in a vision that you’d try.”

He took a sip of his beer, his gaze shuttered, guarded, as if he wasn’t sure how much to divulge. His food lay forgotten as he leaned back in his chair and tilted his head, as if studying her for the first time. Heat crept up into her cheeks, this time not from her temper but the way he watched her as she continued to eat. “I deal in facts. I believe in what I can see. What I can explain. Everything has a logical explanation; it has to in my line of work.”

She’d heard his words a thousand times before. It was one of the main reasons Cara and her sisters didn’t get involved in the cases unless requested by the authorities. They didn’t understand, unless they wanted to, unless they needed too. His lack of acceptance bothered her more than it should, a feeling she wasn’t ready to analyze just yet.

“Okay.” Cara swallowed around her bite of bread. “Explain the gut feelings you get when trying to solve a case. Explain how it is that I knew they came to the island. Explain how Adam was floating in the air. Just because you can’t see the things I can, it doesn’t make them any less true.”

Coop’s brows dipped as he rubbed his chin. She was annoying him and picking at his resolve, but no matter what she said, or how she explained, he’d never truly understand and probably would remain a skeptic. It was his right. She wasn’t here to change his mind. That would be like asking him to believe in mermaids. No one was perfect.

Cara finished eating in silence as Coop excused himself to take a shower. She took a quick walk down the beach and made a few calls to check on Ian to make sure he wasn’t having an orgy. Then she called to check on Adam before she returned to the cabana. Coop was lounging on the bed in all his shirtless glory, the sheet pulled to his waist, teasing her imagination as to what might lie underneath. She couldn’t deny that she was intrigued by him and his looks, more than she should be.

The light from the lamp played across his toned, tan abs, the dips and valleys disappearing under the linen in a rather enticing display. Cara swallowed hard and fought to lick her lips.

“There’s only one bed.”

“I know. I guess my sister didn’t plan for everything.” Cara walked into the room and grabbed a T-shirt from her bag. She turned her back and changed into the long shirt before discarding her shorts. She grabbed the extra pillows in the closet and stacked them down the middle to separate their bodies.

“No offense. It’s not that I don’t trust you.” It was more like she didn’t trust herself. When was the last time she’d slept next to such male perfection? With her luck, she’d molest him in her sleep, and her visions would go into overdrive, much like her hormones. None of his secrets would be safe.

His lips twisted up at the corners. “How do you do it?”

“That’s a loaded question. You have to be a bit more specific,” she answered, crawling into bed.

“How can you be intimate if touching someone wears you out?”

Cara shifted the covers over her abdomen, and she turned to face him, resting her cheek in her palm. “When I touch someone for the first time, I get flashes of their entire life: the good, the bad, and the ugly. It doesn’t matter. Once the initial touch is over, then the next time that person and I touch, it’s just like an update of the things that happened since the first touch, so it’s less powerful and much quicker. It’s how I knew your brother had cheated on me.”

She swallowed around the lump in her throat and ignored the ping in her chest. It shouldn’t still have the power to hurt her, yet every time she thought of it, the wounds broke open. She didn’t know how much of it was because she’d thought herself in love with him, and how much was from the fact that she’d trusted the wrong man. Her gut instinct had malfunctioned, much like that one time she’d tried to light a grill. Her eyebrows still hadn’t grown fully back.

“Must be hard for the other person to be so exposed and unable to keep anything secret or plan surprises.”

Cara hadn’t thought what it meant for the other person. “I guess.”

“So I’m betting one-night stands are out of the question for you.”

A smile split her lips. “You’d be right.” 

“Pity.” He winked.

Pity? Was he flirting with her or mocking her? It was hard to tell. Rolling over, she stared up at the ceiling as his soft snores quickly filled the quiet, dark room.
Pity.
Why did that one word hold so much power? It had been awhile since she’d indulged in male’s interest in her, so she was going to blame her sex-starved body for the reaction that one word evoked. She tingled in places that had lain dormant. She closed her eyes and couldn’t help but wonder…what if.