Undeniably Yours (7 page)

The Porcupine, fortunately, had been spared from the flames, thanks to the fire-proofed walls. A little cleaning, and it had been good to go. The same couldn’t be said for the rest of the building.

As a hot breeze blew down the sidewalk, the scent of smoke was nearly overwhelming. Across the street, at the Common, people walked dogs, ate picnic lunches, played Frisbee. So
normal
when life for me right now seemed anything but.

Yellow caution tape was stretched across a piece of plywood that covered the scorched doorway leading to the upper floors of the building. Soot darkened the brick façade of all three levels, and the windows above us had been sealed with plywood as well—some broken to fight the fire, others broken in a fight for life.

In my mind’s eye, I could easily imagine the first floor vestibule. The cherry-wood stairs with an elaborately carved bannister. The old-fashioned elevator.

And just as easily as I imagined what it used to look like, I could picture it how I’d last seen it. The flames. The heavy smoke. Charred wood. Embers glowing. The face of evil.

The second and third floors were slightly better off than the first—heavily smoke damaged, but the flames had been mostly contained by the time they reached the upper levels. Some structural work would be needed—and a complete fire restoration.

“It’ll be okay,” I said, more to myself than to Aiden.

The building was more than a hundred years old. History had been lost with the destruction of the old craftsmanship, but my parents would do all they could to preserve what remained. No matter what, renovations were sure to be extensive. I had no idea when we’d be getting back to work.

Right about now, I rather missed my job as a matchmaker. I, along with Sean, ran Lost Loves, which focused on reuniting (appropriately) lost loves. Between Sean’s PI work and my psychic abilities we had a good track record going, and it was often rewarding. Seeing people fall in love all over again was something I never took for granted. That kind of joy was hard to come by in this world, which made me yearn for it that much more. Happiness was possibly the best weapon to battle the world’s evils.

But, of course, reuniting lost loves wasn’t the only way to find joy. It was everywhere if one looked for it. Even here. In the shadows of this charred, scarred building. It was in the sense of renewal. Of survival. Of knowing what was truly important in life.

It wasn’t things. Not fancy old elevators or carved woodwork.

It was people.

Good people.

My gaze swung to the restaurant, and through the big plate-glass windows I could see Raphael, my surrogate father of sorts, busily wiping off a counter as his fiancée Maggie took an order.

I tugged on Aiden’s sleeve to get his attention. “Let’s go in.”

He held the Porcupine’s door open for me. Cool air swirled as I crutched inside. Even though it was a little early for lunchtime, the restaurant was packed. Raphael glanced up from wiping the counter and a smile spread across his face, his slightly-crooked teeth flashing bright against his olive skin. Soft wrinkles spread from the corners of his brown eyes as they filled with happiness.

This
. This was joy. I couldn’t help but smile back as he came toward me, tucking a hand towel into the waist of the white apron tied low around his hips. He pulled me into a crushing hug, crutches and all.

He pulled back to scan for any new injuries, searching for wounds that weren’t so easily visible. Apparently, he didn’t like what he saw. He cupped my cheeks with warm strong hands and said in a dulcet soothing tone, “
Mi
Uvita
.”

Shit. Only when feeling especially emotional did he resort to the use of “
mi Uvita
,” translated to “my little grape.” I must really look like crap.

“I’m fine,
Pasa
,” I returned using my nickname for him. Raisin. The names had been coined back in olden days when, at five years old, I pitched a hissy fit on a field trip. He claimed I turned the color of a purple Concord grape. I’m not sure exactly when I began calling him
Pasa
, but the names stuck, becoming more and more endearing as years passed.

Unofficially, my parents had shared custody of me from the time I was four years old. A fifty-fifty split. My time with my mother was…free. She raised me to be nothing if not independent. Though she loved me fiercely, she often did her own thing and expected me to do the same.

My father…well, he didn’t know what to do with me at all. So, he left my care to Raphael, who until recently had been my father’s full-time valet. He’d cut back his hours only after falling in love with Maggie (thanks to a little matchmaking), and here he was, working by her side at her restaurant and happier than I’d ever seen him.

Raphael had been in my life for as long as I could remember. He’d been my caretaker. My playmate. My teacher. My friend. My partner in crime. The one person in my life I knew without a doubt I could count on. He’d been the one to bandage scrapes, to shop with me for school supplies, to take me to museums and zoos. He’d been the one to teach me to drive. He’d dried my tears when my heart was broken. It was his wallet I’d found that revealed my ESP after I thought all my powers were lost.

He was wise, kind, and the best kind of good.

He was joy.

“I’m good,” I insisted, trying to reassure him, even though I suddenly felt like sobbing. “Really.”

“Such lies you tell,” he said with a chastising look.

“I’d never,” I lied, beating back the tears with an emotional baseball bat.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Are you going to hog her all day?” a female voice asked from behind him.

With a sigh, he stepped aside to shake Aiden’s hand and said to him, “Glad to see you’re not missing after all.”

Maggie Constantine gave me a hug. Her hair was pulled back into a long braid, and her eyes shone with a vitality that came from an energy that radiated within her. “You’re doing okay?” she asked, echoing Raphael’s concern.

“I’m good,” I repeated and nodded enthusiastically, swinging that mental bat around like I was aiming for a Twinkie-filled piñata.

She searched my gaze, too, and gave me a smile. She didn’t know me as well as Raphael—it was easier to be deceptive. Turning her focus to Aiden, she teased, “I thought we were going to have to send out a search party for you. I was taking up a collection of Tic Tacs.”

Aiden’s gaze flicked to me. “Word gets around fast.”

I smiled. “Welcome to my world.”

Another couple came in, blinking as they adjusted to the lighting after being out in the sunshine. Raphael said, “Let me get these customers settled, then I’ll be back to see you.”

“No rush,” I said, crutching out of the way. “We’re staying for lunch.”

“Wonderful!” Maggie ushered us to a booth near the front windows. “Sit, sit.”

As I set my crutches into the booth and slid in next to them, the scent of garlic wafted in the air along with something else, something nuttier. Roasted pine nuts maybe. It was so nice to smell something other than smoke.

“Hungry?” she asked, putting menus in our hands.

There was nothing Maggie liked more than feeding people.

Well, maybe Raphael.

“Starving,” I said.

Aiden only smiled. He was humoring me with this lunch, but I wasn’t going to complain. More than food, I’d needed the visit with Raphael. Aiden and I both ordered lemonades and Maggie rushed off. She rarely moved at any speed other than fast.

Aiden shook out his napkin and placed it on his lap and looked out the window. Even though he sat directly across from me, I could tell he was somewhere far, far away.

“We’ll find her,” I said.

His gaze snapped to me. “What then, Lucy?”

What then?
It was a good question—one I didn’t have an answer to.

“If she’s alive, is she going to fight me for shared custody? Because I’m not letting Ava go. Now that I know about her, I’m not stepping aside to let her slip seamlessly back into her old life.”

I hadn’t needed any kind of psychic ability to predict that Aiden wouldn’t let Ava out of his life after all this was said and done. All it had taken was one look at him this morning cuddling the little girl to know he’d fallen head over heels for her.

“And sure as hell,” he added scathingly, “I’m not letting that jackhole
Trey Fisher
raise my daughter…”

I lifted an eyebrow and fought a smile. Fought it hard. Aiden rarely cursed. “Jackhole?”

A smile teased the corners of his lips. “I might be being a bit harsh, but you know his reputation.”

I did. Womanizer. Temperamental. Conceited.

Not exactly a father figure.

“They haven’t been dating long,” I said. “I doubt marriage is on the table at this point.”

He glared.

I got the message. He needed to vent.

“Carry on,” I said.

“On the flip side of that, if Kira’s dead…,” he began, then shook his head. After a second, he cleared his throat. “If she’s dead, how can I explain to Ava that I waited days to look for her mother?”

“Aiden, you can’t—”

“Here you go,” Maggie said, sliding two frosty glasses of lemonade onto the tabletop. She quickly rattled off the daily specials, and the passion she had for her food was evident in the way she described each meal. I ordered a chicken spinach wrap, and Aiden ordered gazpacho. She rushed off, and I couldn’t help but smile at her zest for life.

On the surface, it didn’t seem like she would be a good fit for Raphael. He loved the Red Sox, she loved the Yankees. He loved eighties music, she loved classical. He was quiet, she was loud. Yet, the undeniable chemistry between them was palpable. And, of course, there were the auras. My father had known from the moment he met Maggie that she was the one to fill the void in Raphael’s heart. Dad had leased this space to her at the fraction of the cost so she and Raphael could find their way to each other. Turned out, their internal navigational systems were a wee bit off course. It had taken
my
interference (I wanted full credit) to get them to finally look at each other. A whirlwind relationship later and they were engaged and living together.

It never ceased to amaze me how little it took to completely change the direction of someone’s life. For good…or for bad.

I ran my fingers up and down my glass, drawing in the condensation. “You can’t hold yourself responsible for what might or might not have happened to Kira.”

His jaw jutted.

Because he knew I spoke the truth, I didn’t press. Instead, I refocused the conversation. “It sure seems as though that doll was a warning to Kira about the McDaniel case.”

“Yes.” He ripped the paper from his straw and jabbed it into his drink. “I keep thinking about that note. It feels like someone went to an exaggerated length to make us believe they were uneducated. Why?”

It did, in fact, seem that way. I was fairly sure a third grader had better writing skills than whoever penned the note. “If I had to guess, someone well-educated wrote it.”

“That’s what I was thinking, too.”

Ice cubes clinked against my glass as I slid it between my hands. “How much do you recall about Dustin McDaniel?”

“Not as much as I’d like right now. My files on him are at the office.”

“Do you recall the parental situation?” I asked. “How did the state get involved in the first place?”

He said, “Mother had a problem with drugs, father is in prison. I don’t know how the CFC became involved. There was supposed to be regular checks by his social worker, but somewhere along the line, he fell through the cracks in the system. After his disappearance was uncovered, his case worker was fired and her supervisor was suspended.”

Sometimes the cracks in the system felt like chasms. “We’re going to have to talk to Dustin’s case worker and possibly her supervisor.”

Aiden slowly shredded his straw wrapper. “It might be best if we split up tomorrow. Can you drive with that boot?”

“Yep. I mastered it last week.”

Raphael set two plates on the table. He slid into the booth next to me. “You two look quite serious over here. Working?”

“New missing person case,” I said.

“Adult? Child?” Raphael asked.

“Both,” I said.

I was about to launch into the whole story when the front door swung open and a loud female voice said, “You’re impossible!”

The man she was with said drolly, “So I’ve been told a thousand times.”

“If the truth fits,” she returned.

“A thousand and one.” The man sighed.

Raphael smirked and elbowed me. “True love.”

“Where’s Raphael?” the woman said as she spun around. “He’ll agree with—LucyD!” my mother squealed when she spotted me. She rushed over to the table, immediately abandoning her companion.

He didn’t look fazed. My father was used to it.

Raphael scooted out of the booth, and my mother gave him a quick hug, and set a pile of binders on the table before taking his spot next to me.

“Let me look at you,” she said, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. She
tsk
ed. “You look tired.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

She beamed, her hazel eyes bright and shiny. “What are mothers for if not telling the truth?”

I was about to give her a whole list that didn’t including telling their daughters they essentially looked like crap, but then I glanced at Aiden and remembered a little girl who didn’t know where her mother was. I took another bite of my sandwich as Mum launched into hellos with him.

My parents were also a case of opposites attracting. Dad was polished whereas Mum was wild. Her platinum hair was cut short in a messy pixie style, and her eyelids glittered from sparkly eye shadow. A deep purple tunic with white embroidery flattered her shapely figure, and bangle bracelets clanked on her arm as she spoke with her hands. She was a flowerchild at heart and was a tireless defender of every cause around. She loved fiercely. Everything from the sound of the ocean to delectable desserts; her music students, her family, and her strange complicated relationship with my father.

My dad and Raphael had their heads bent—no doubt my father was ordering something not on the menu. My dad was classic Hollywood handsome. Tall, dark and debonair. Montgomery Clift with brown eyes (minus the addiction problems). Impeccably dressed, his silver-flecked hair was slicked back, and as his gaze turned to me, his eyes warmed. He leaned across the table to give my forehead a peck, then shook Aiden’s hand and sat next to him.