Stranger in the Mirror [Shades of Heaven] (Soul Change Novel) (37 page)

She took a deep breath. “Caterina seemed so dull to me a century ago. Well, it seems like a century. Now I see the wonder of it.” She looked at Jesse. “And the romance.”

He swept her up into his arms and twirled her around, kissing her all the while. “As long as you don’t see the romance while you’re thinking about the rich, blond guy.”

“Jamie? You’ve got nothing to worry about, darling.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Hm, I don’t know. I’ll probably never be able to buy an island.”

She hugged him. “Yeah, but you can give me a ride in your fancy new racecar, and I get on television because they like to do those family interviews in the pits.”

He touched her chin. “My two good luck charms cheering me on.”

Eli’s squeal of laughter made them turn. A baby girl, about Eli’s age, ran toward them with her hands poised for a hug. Eli, not knowing what else to do, sat on the spot.

“Kayla, what are you doing, sweetie?”

Marti looked up at the couple walking from a path that led from the jungle. Her heart stopped momentarily, and she felt dizzy. Jamie and Hallie both grinned when they saw that their little girl had found a friend. Three Shetland sheepdogs followed behind, interested only in chasing each other. Marti clutched at Jesse’s arm to steady herself.

“Hi, welcome to Caterina,” Jamie said, casually offering a hand. “I’m the owner, and this is my wife, Hallie. This is our daughter, Kayla. We own this little place.”

Jesse stiffened but shook Jamie’s hand heartily. “I’m Jesse, and this is my wife, Marti.” He planted a kiss on her temple. “I think Eli’s found a girlfriend, huh, doll?” He pointed to the toddlers, probably drawing their attention away so she could gain her composure.

She had never seen Jamie so happy before. Seeing her old body was stranger yet, but she felt no ties to it anymore. The woman in it obviously took good care of it. Marti had never seen it looking so fit. Jesse noticed, too, and she nudged him.

“How do you like it here so far?” Jamie asked in his owner’s voice.

“It’s absolutely excellent!” Marti replied, and the look on his face revealed that he still remembered her old expression. Hallie’s old expression. “What’s wrong?”

Jamie put his smile back on. “Oh, nothing. I knew someone who used to say that all the time. Just like that, same inflection and everything.” He shook his head, as if to throw off the memory. “Where are you two from?”

“Florida,” Jesse answered, watching her carefully. Suspiciously. She could read his thoughts in his narrowed eyes:
What are you up to?

Marti turned to Jamie. “I’m from California, originally. Oceanview.”

Again, Jamie’s expression looked haunted for a moment. Marti found herself wanting to tell him who she was. She could apologize for what she’d put him through, explain her messed-up-ness. What would his new wife think? Had she told him about her true identity? Hallie seemed just as interested in the ‘coincidences’ as Jamie.

“Well, maybe we’ll see you later on,” Jamie said, taking Hallie’s hand. “Tonight’s Jamaican Night at BooNooNoos. Great food, limbo, that sort of thing. My wife’s one of the best limbo-ers around, and she’ll be glad to show you a thing or two.” He paused, giving her an interesting smile. “In fact, you’re welcome to sit with us for dinner. It sounds like we have a few things in common.”

“We’ll do that.” Marti pulled her gaze away from his speculation and glanced around. “Things have changed a lot since the last time I was here.”

Jamie’s eyebrows drew together. “You’ve been here before? I don’t remember seeing you here before.”

She took in the water and palm trees. “Feels like forever.” She scooped Eli up in her arms, then spared an arm to link with Jesse’s. “It was a time in my life where I made a lot of mistakes. Hurt people. Coming back is part of some healing I intend to do, so I can put my past behind me. Because life is all about second chances.” She gave them both a knowing smile. “We’ll see you at dinner, Jamie. Hallie.”

She turned and walked away from them, Jesse at her side. Her lips twisted in a huge grin.

“You are bad,” Jesse said, though he was smiling, too.

“No, I’m good. I meant every word I said. The past is gone forever. I’m so glad they found their second chance, too. I lost the island, but I got the West. And the West is a lot better.” She pinched his cheek. “Besides, Jamie isn’t my type.”

THE END

Here’s a sneak peek for Woke Up Dead, another Soul Change novel!

Jennie Carmichael rolled her wheelchair through the doorway of Sam’s Private Eye and over to her desk by the window. Sam Magee’s low, rumbly voice coming from his office was as familiar and welcoming as the scent of aged wood, the heat of the furnace, or coffee…which, she noticed, was absent this morning.

Darn, he’d forgotten to pick some up again. The coffeepot looked cold and impotent in the corner. The mug she’d bought him for Christmas sat next to the empty pot, the hound dog face waiting patiently to be filled.

Speaking of hound dogs, she heard a jingling sound and turned to greet Romeo, the reason she’d picked that particular mug for Sam. Romeo’s tail arced gracefully, and his dripping chocolate-brown layers of skin flopped this way and that as he ambled over for his rub. She always rubbed her cheek against the top of his head. He had the softest fur, but she really loved the way his eyes rolled in ecstasy.

Romeo’s presence meant that Sam planned to be in the office for most of the day, and Jennie felt like rolling her eyes at that thought, too.

She shrugged out of her coat and then her sweater, hanging both on two low hooks Sam had put in just for her. She pulled the knit cap off her head, feeling several strands of her light brown hair crackling with static. Outside, snowflakes covered the city of Chicago, making her dread leaving and dealing with the snow.

She organized the papers on her desk as Romeo settled onto his dark green pillow with a contented sigh. She put copies to be made in one pile, reports to be transcribed in another. After firing up the computer, she put the tiny tape into the transcribing machine. She might have hated transcribing, but Sam was a good speaker and he had a voice she could listen to for hours.

“Sam’s Private Eye,” she answered cheerfully when the phone rang.

She put the call on hold and wheeled across the wood floor to the doorway nearby. Sam looked as if he’d been poured into that high-back chair. He had the old leather chair he’d picked up at an auction tilted all the way back, and his sock-clad feet were perched on the desk as he dictated another report.

That huge desk would have made most men look like elves, but not Sam. Not that he was a big guy in a burly sense; his strong shoulders tapered to a lean waist. He just had…presence. His ash-blond hair was brushed back in waves, highlighting his broad forehead and blue eyes. Here, the aroma of leather and the citrus cologne he wore almost made up for the lack of coffee.

“Upon further surveillance, the subject twice stood and—” He clicked the little recorder off. “Morning, kiddo.”

“Morning, bossman,” she said, using the nickname that had started out as a joke. “There’s a Petula on the line for you.” Petula of the long legs and blond hair and fake eyelashes. Like most of the women Jennie had seen Sam date. “She says it’s, er, personal.”

“Tell her I’m out of the country on a case,” he said, then flashed her a mischievous smile that stretched his trimmed mustache. “A dangerous mission spying on Mexican drug lords in Africa trying to sell their wares to Swiss tourists. If I don’t get nailed by the drug lords or the Swiss tourists, there’re always the cannibals. They like white meat, I hear.”

“Mm-hm,” Jennie said with a nod, trying not to look so very pleased. “That didn’t last very long.”

“That woman’s intelligence bled out with her hair color years ago.”

Jennie felt a strange whirring in her heart when she said, “Well, maybe you should change your type.”

“Ah,” he said with a flick of his wrist. “I don’t have time to woo and court a woman. This business is hard on a relationship.”

“Long hours away, rushing out on a sudden call in the middle of dinner, canceled dates… “

He looked at her, tilting his head. “Yeah, just like that.”

For a second, something clicked between them, something that smacked of a deep understanding. Was she imagining something more? Probably. She snapped out of her misleading thoughts. “Oh, I’d better tell Petula…” She gestured toward the phone and whirled around to give her the brush off.

Afterward, she mulled over what had probably been the gutsiest thing she’d ever said to him, that thing about changing his type. What made Sam’s heart tick? The blues, she decided when he turned up a particularly rhythmic piece, leaned his head back and started singing the chorus of “Drowning in a Sea of Love.”

Ah, she knew that feeling well. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the richness of his voice. She could go on forever like this.

Her eyes popped open. She had thought that about her life before, about being able to walk and run and dance. Then twelve years ago, in one minute, it was all gone. Her whole life changed. Never again could she look at something as forever. For now, she was happy with her life, even if she was in a wheelchair. Even if she was hopelessly in love with her boss, a man she was totally wrong for.

Sam was a living-by-the-seat-of-his-pants guy; Jennie would only bog him down. Paralyzed from the waist down, she wasn’t bound to be much in bed either. Mostly, his friendship wasn’t worth risking by telling him how she really felt about him. He would never feel the same way about her, and her admission would put a strain on a friendship that meant everything to her.

Jennie wheeled back to Sam’s office and peeked in the doorway. He was pacing behind the desk now, phone to his ear. “Mmhm. Mmhm. And what did you do?” he was saying.

“Sam, I’m going down to Shep’s to make copies,” she whispered, gesturing toward the door. She turned to head out. Thiers had died and he hadn’t had a chance to buy a new one.

“Psst.” Sam appeared in the doorway, phone scrunched between his ear and shoulder and gestured for her to wait. He slapped his palm to his forehead. “You slept with your wife? Aw, Harry, you just blew four weeks of surveillance. I don’t care if it was the greatest sex you two ever had, don’t you see? You knew she was sleeping around on you and you did the deed with her anyway. That constitutes forgiveness, and what that means, my friend, is you have no case. Her lawyer no doubt told her to hit you where your heart is, and I’m not talking about your stomach. …
I
should have told you this before? I didn’t think you’d
sleep
with her, for Pete’s sake. You’re the one who told me she was lower than a toenail.”

He rolled his eyes at her as she tried to stifle a giggle. “Hold on a sec, Harry. Jennie, buy us some coffee from Shep, will you?” He handed her a couple dollar bills.

“Yes, bossman.” She looked at the bills with a wry grin. That was his way of telling her that he’d forgotten coffee again. Mixed subtly into his expression was an apology.

“Thanks, kiddo. Listen, Harry, you don’t have a leg to stand on, least of all your third leg. Forget the whole thing.”

Jennie wheeled out into the hallway and knocked the door shut with her elbow. As she turned toward the elevator, she felt her wheels slide over something slick on the wood. Her chair slid backward toward the stairway that led down two more floors. She yelped, grabbing the railing to stop herself. Her back was to the staircase when she got the chair to stop turning. Glancing down the wood stairs, she let out a long breath and started the chair forward.

Instead, it went backwards.

She lunged for the railing again, but she was already tipping over. The railing was out of reach.

The last thing she saw before she fell was Sam’s horrified expression as he shot through the door and tried to grab her. She reached for him. Their fingers touched, slid without catching. Her stomach lurched as she fell, the steps jerking her chair to and fro.

“Sam!” she screamed out.

“Jennie, no!”

The world tilted, crushing her with pain and dizziness. Through some thick mist, she felt herself lurch down several more steps, landing on a flat, hard surface. Her body came to a jarring stop, but the dizziness kept swirling through her.

She heard voices filled with panic and exclamation. She smelled the coppery odor of blood, and heard Sam yell with a hoarse voice, “Someone, call an ambulance!”

Her heart thundered inside her, increasing the pain with each pulse of blood. She couldn’t swallow at first. There was some kind of liquid in her mouth, warm and thick. When she forced herself to swallow it, she recognized the taste of blood.
I’m dying
.

Sam held her, smoothing back her hair with trembling fingers. “Jennie, don’t leave me. Come on…oh, God. Don’t close your eyes. You’re going to be fine.”

Sam, I love you
. She tried to voice her thoughts, but her mouth was filled with blood again. She wasn’t even aware that her eyes were closing, but nothing could make them stay open. Even in the darkness, she could see Sam’s face. She could still tell what was going on around her: Sam cradling her head, other voices in the stairway, Sam talking to her, the feel of blood trickling from her mouth down her chin and her neck.

She must look a wreck, she thought vaguely. Her impulse was to wipe away the blood. But nothing moved at her will. Panic gripped her. Not even a finger complied with her mental order to move. Was she completely paralyzed now?

“Jennie.”

Sam’s voice seemed so very far away, talking in soft, calming tones. She smiled, or at least thought she smiled. Yeah, she could listen to him forever. Then she realized she couldn’t feel him anymore, couldn’t hear the other noises. It was as if his voice had become a physical thing, a wave on which she rode, traveling through nothingness at a fast rate.

Then his voice faded, leaving her suspended and weightless. All of her fear, hopes, dreams, frustration—everything seemed to be sucked away from her, as if an unseen vacuum cleaner was pointed at her soul. She floated in some infinite darkness, feeling her life drawing to a peaceful end.