She dropped her mouth, her brain rampaging for a snappy retort. Instead her rebellious mind conjured up the image of the Irish guy, nude, as she lathered soap from his neck, over his broad shoulders and down to his well-rounded—
“Earth to witch.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said, chagrined she’d been caught daydreaming.
Blush alert! Bart advised, chortling at her embarrassment.
Gavenia stammered. “Ah . . . what . . . were we talking about?”
O’Fallon’s face told her he wasn’t buying the act. “Showering . . . together.”
“We have to find Merlin first.”
“Now who’s being all business?”
“Just learning from the best.” She paused at the bottom of the stairs that led to the deck. He handed her the cane.
“You do better without this.”
“You won’t always be around to help me,” she shot back.
He opened his mouth to reply and then closed it as if he’d thought better. They judged each other for a moment.
“So what next?” he said, removing his arm from around her waist. She missed it immediately.
“Let’s raid the cupboards.”
For folks with eight-figure incomes, the Allifords’ pantry was painfully thin. Apparently, they brought food each time they visited. When O’Fallon found a jar of spaghetti sauce and some wheat pasta, he announced their problems were solved.
“I cook, you shower,” she offered.
“But you can’t wash my back if you’re cooking.”
“Shoo,” she said, pushing him away with her hands. “Just don’t stay in there forever, or I’ll have to come get you.”
His leering grin told her he was considering the notion.
Chapter Eighteen
Gavenia glanced at her watch as she stirred the sauce, adjusting the burner to the lowest setting. The Irish guy had been in the shower fifteen minutes.
“And they think women take forever.”
He just wants you to come fetch him, Bart said. He sat on the counter watching her cook, feet swinging to and fro.
“I’m not going there,” she replied.
You don’t trust him.
“Not entirely.” Gavenia fidgeted with a strand of hair. “What do you think of him?”
He’s got about as many issues as you do; maybe more.
“That’s not what I asked.”
If he were a cowboy, he’d be wearing a white hat.
“And?” she said. She felt like a teenager quizzing her dad about his reaction to her prom date.
I like him. Bart jumped down from the counter and headed for the leather recliner.
“Where you ever in love?” she asked.
He stopped midstride and turned toward her, his face solemn.
Yes. She was . . . everything.
“Where you married?”
He slowly shook his head. No, we never had a chance. Someone came between us.
Gavenia’s heart tightened. Why had she never asked about that before? Why hadn’t she realized he’d left an entire life behind, perhaps even someone he loved?
The Shepherd always takes precedence over the Guardian, Bart intoned, as if citing some celestial rule. Before Gavenia could ask what that meant, O’Fallon sauntered into the kitchen, clad in his jeans and T-shirt.
“About damned time,” Gavenia said, mimicking Seamus. “A few minutes longer and I would have called the cops.”
A hearty laugh answered her. “That shower’s a religious experience. You have to try it.”
“I might.” She gave the sauce another stir as he joined her at the stove. “This is ready.”
“Good; I’m starved.” He glanced toward the blazing hearth. “You built a fire?”
“You sound surprised. We Pagans are good with wood. All those human sacrifices, you know.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He carried the bottle of wine to the table and poured two hearty glasses. After helping her with the spaghetti-laden plates, he sat and bowed his head. After a moment he looked up, as if unsure of how to proceed.
“I usually offer a blessing before my meals,” he explained.
“Go ahead, and then I’ll offer mine.”
He took a deep breath. “Dear Father, thank you for another day of life, one filled with”—he paused and looked toward his dinner companion—“unexpected surprises. Thank you for reminding me to take time to enjoy the beauty of your creation and those who share it. Bless this meal and those who prepared it. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen,” he said, crossing himself.
Gavenia closed her eyes, raising her palms heavenward.
“To the God and Goddess I ask a blessing on this food for the health of those present. Give us wisdom to see your Light and to magnify it in this dark world. So mote it be.”
O’Fallon sighed in contentment. After the meal, they’d curled up on the couch like they’d known each other for years, Gavenia tucked up against his side. They’d talked about their lives, sharing stories, learning about each other. Her work, his work. The courtship dance. He knew it well. New beginnings were so pure; the endings, so sad.
He pushed a strand of hair from her face. When had they crossed the line between working on the case to the promise of something more? The walk on the beach. She’d begun to open up from that moment forward, as if he’d connected with her on some deeper level.
“I’m sorry I got you out here for nothing,” she said.
He tipped her chin up and studied those twin blue oceans.
“It wasn’t a wasted day. I enjoyed myself, and it’s been a long time since I could say that.” He bent over and placed a kiss on her nose. Gavenia didn’t pull away. The second kiss fell on her cheek. She leaned into him. The third was on her mouth. She was warm, and the kiss burned into his lips. When they broke apart, he found her eyes watching him with an intensity that caused his heart to pound.
“I’m going to take a shower.” Gavenia reluctantly pulled out his arms. O’Fallon watched as she made her way down the long hall toward the cavernous bathroom and her own religious experience.
“I think I’d best stay right here,” he said with a sigh. Dammit.
By the time Gavenia returned from the shower, O’Fallon was asleep in front of the fireplace. He’d unfolded the sofa bed, despite his injured ribs, and now snoozed under a blanket, his hair tousled. She banked the fire, checked that the doors were locked, and then counted the stairs to the second floor. The circular stairway was just too daunting for her and the cane.
“Not happening,” she murmured. Stripping off her shoes, she lay next to the Irish guy, who murmured in his sleep but didn’t wake. He smelled of expensive soap, a strangely erotic scent. She impulsively deposited a kiss on his cheek and tucked the blanket around them.
As she drifted to sleep, she caught Bart’s subtle glow coming from the leather recliner. O’Fallon’s Guardian hung next to Bart as if they were having a conversation.
I wonder why I can’t see it, she thought, and then drifted to sleep.
* * *
O’Fallon woke to the sound of running water, which aggravated his full bladder. Swinging his feet over the edge of the sofa bed, he rubbed his eyes and got his bearings. He was at the Allifords’ beach house and he was there with a witch. He looked over at the other side of the bed. Gavenia was gone, but the pillow next to him looked like she’d shared his bed. He half remembered that, the warmth of her next to him. It had felt good.
Steady there. They needed to gain some space between them, give themselves time to think this out before it went too far.
He hiked across the cool wood floors to the bathroom and took care of business. By the time he entered the kitchen, the running water had stopped.
Finding fresh java in a coffeemaker, he poured himself a cup and savored the silence. If he were at home, Seamus would be entertaining him with a cacophony of songs and sound effects. On the beach there
was just the gentle murmuring of the ocean, the call of seabirds, and . . .
Waaaoof!
The clatter of claws on wooden flooring made him swing his head around. A black blur rocketed toward him, leaping upward. He maneuvered at the last minute to avoid full-body contact in an area that wouldn’t tolerate that sort of enthusiasm.
“Merlin?” he asked.
Waaaooof! was the answer. The puppy danced around his feet, shaking like an earthquake. Cascades of water splattered the length of O’Fallon’s torso and he shielded his coffee cup and waited for the droplets to settle to earth. A boisterous laugh came from the doorway as Gavenia leaned against the doorjamb.
“Irish guy, meet Merlin. He’s had his bath. It’s up to you to dry him,” she said, pointing toward a sizable navy bath towel draped over one of the kitchen chairs. As she turned to go outside, O’Fallon called, “Wait! Where’d he come from?”
“He found me on the deck this morning. I was meditating and then next thing I know, I get a wet nose in my face—a nose attached to a very stinky dog.”
“I’ll be damned,” he said, squatting to pet the energetic hound.
“The Patience card was right on—all we had to do was wait him out. If we’d given up and gone home last night . . .”
O’Fallon shook his head in amazement. Merlin looked pretty bright for someone who’d been living on his own for two weeks. “Does he need to be fed?”
“Already done. I decided not to wake you.”
He gave her an appreciative nod. “I owe you one.”
“I’ll remember that,” she said, winking.
He pulled the towel off the chair, intending to do his part. Merlin reacted instantly, grabbing the towel in his teeth and backing away, a playful growl in his throat. A tug-of-war ensued.
“Grrrrr . . .” They struggled for control of the towel as Merlin dug in his toenails and pulled. The dog wrenched the towel out of his hand and headed for the door, O’Fallon jogging after him. “God, you’re worse than Seamus.”
* * *
The drive to LA was quiet, as if both of them knew the case was nearing an end. Merlin snoozed in the backseat.
O’Fallon broke the silence. “Do you want to go to Alliford’s now?”
Gavenia shook her heard. “No, let me call and get things set up first. This is going to be really hard on Gregory.”
“Like burying his son a second time?”
“Exactly.”
“I’ll call Avery. Maybe Alliford will agree to have him there.”
“Is your friend okay with Pagans?” she asked. He heard the uncertainty.
“Yeah, he’s cool.” Or at least I hope so.
She gave a slight huff of air. “I just want Bradley to be at peace.” Merlin raised his head at that. She reached back and patted him. “Yes, you’ll see him soon.” The dog put his head back on his paw and dispensed a long canine sigh. It mirrored O’Fallon’s mood perfectly.
“Call me when it’s over, okay?” he said. “I want to know how it goes.”
“I will.”
* * *
O’Fallon gave her a light kiss on the cheek before walking toward his apartment. As Gavenia watched him, she regretted that something more hadn’t happened during their time at the beach.
“Whoa,” she said, shaking her head. Things were moving too fast.
As she climbed into her car, she found Bart in the passenger seat, Merlin in his lap.
“Do animals see all the Guardians?” she asked. Bart nodded. “But I can’t.”
That’s the breaks.
She sighed and pulled the car out of the parking lot. It never got any easier.
When she arrived home, Merlin rose from his nap a virtual tornado. He surged into the condo at warp speed and engaged in a brief skirmish with Bastet. The cat clawed her way to the highest level of the bookshelf in the temple room, hair bristling as she glowered at the intruder. Gavenia herded the dog into the kitchen, out of harm’s way.
Unlimited puppy energy overwhelmed Ari as she stirred a pot of vegetable soup at the stove.
“You found him!” she said, kneeling to pet the cavorting dog.
“Yeah, we did.”
Ari beamed and then commanded, “Sit, Merlin.” The puppy gave her a puzzled look. “Sit!” she repeated. The dog eased into a squat.
Gavenia blinked in astonishment. “You’re good,” she said.
“Men and dogs—same thing. Give them a command, and they’ll behave.”
Gavenia angled her eyes toward Paul’s ghost as she fished an ice-cream bar out of the freezer. He was frowning at his widow’s remarks.
“I’ve never found men or dogs like that,” Gavenia said.
“Wrong men, wrong dogs,” Ari said, crossing to the sink. “So what’s the plan?”
“I need to call Gregory to get things going and then I need a nap before we do this.”
“So what happened at the beach house?” Ari asked in the midst of drying her hands.
“Nothing.”
Her sister gave her a skeptical look. “Nothing? You spend the day with a good-looking guy and nothing happens? Sorry, I don’t buy that.”
“We walked on the beach and talked a lot. We cuddled on the couch in front of the fireplace. End of story.”
Ari looked crestfallen. “That’s it? Damn. I’d hoped someone was having more fun that I was.”
“Nope. Just finding Merlin.” Gavenia headed for the kitchen door.
“By the way, you’ve got a bazillion calls from lots of nervous witches. I made a list and left it by phone,” Ari said, pointing toward a sheet of paper filled with names and numbers.
“I’ll deal with those tonight. Bradley comes first.”
Ari tasted the soup and shook her head, adding more chopped basil. “I’m going out for dinner with some friends. This soup is for you so you don’t eat your weight in ice-cream bars.”
Gavenia wrinkled her nose at her sister. “Cute, Pooh.”
As she turned away, Ari called, “Tinker Bell?”
“Yeah?”
“Nice work with the dog.” Ari pointed down at Merlin, who sat at her feet, pawing at her shoelaces. “Now take him somewhere else, will you?”
“Come on, Mr. Wizard,” Gavenia called, slapping her thigh. “Let’s go find a cat to piss off.”
Bastet made the mistake of appearing in the doorway at that very moment, whiskers twitching in agitation. The dog thundered after her and they flew down the hall in a blast of noise and swirling hair. Tempting as it was to intervene, Gavenia decided to let them sort it out. Once Merlin was home with the Allifords, she’d do penance with the feline.
Chapter Nineteen
Merlin began bouncing around the car the moment Gavenia pulled into the Allifords’ circle driveway.
“How does he know this is home?” she muttered, shaking her head in amazement. Merlin responded with a loud bark and another acrobatic bounce from the front seat to the floor and back. “We’re almost there.” Her Guardian, on the other hand, was noticeably missing. “Hey, Bart, you going to miss this?”
He appeared next to her, dressed in a solemn black suit.
Just trying to stay out of Hurricane Merlin’s way.
“Yeah, he’s a handful.” She pulled up behind another vehicle, one she didn’t recognize. It had a bumper sticker that read, my other car is a confessional.
“The priest,” she said. Hopefully he was as open-minded as O’Fallon claimed. She looked toward her Guardian for reassurance, but he was staring out the window, deep in thought. Bart exited the car, through the door. It was still odd to watch him move through solid objects. He seemed so much like a real person.
I am a real person.
“You know what I mean.”
I’m real and I’m dead. A real dead person. Get over it.
His snappish behavior caught her off guard. He looked as if he was fighting tears.
“Let’s get this done. I don’t think any of us can take much more.”
<
br /> Maria was instantly set upon the moment she opened the front doors. Merlin lunged at her, snagged one of her stockings, and then bounded past her at a gallop.
She laughed and beckoned. “Come, come,” she said.
Gavenia followed the excited barking and found Gregory on the hallway floor playing with the puppy. He grinned at her, and the expression reminded her of Bradley.
“He looks good,” Gregory said. The dog danced around him, tail impacting the wall with solid thumps.
Standing behind the pair was a man in a clerical collar who was older than O’Fallon, but blessed with that same steady self-assurance. The priest stepped around Alliford and offered his hand.
“I’m Father Elliot,” he said. His voice flowed like smooth whiskey.
“Gavenia Kingsgrave.” They shook solemnly. Pushing down her apprehension, she said, “I’m pleased you’re here.”
“I’m pleased Mr. Alliford has allowed me the privilege.”
The expression on Gregory’s face withered. He rose to his feet and took a deep breath. “It’s best we get this done.”
“Your son will soon be at peace,” Gavenia said. Her words felt inadequate, no match to the father’s endless grief.
“I think of him every day,” Alliford said. “Something triggers a memory. Will it ever get better?” he asked, his eyes pleading.
Gavenia shot a quick glance at the priest. She saw the truth in the cleric’s eyes. She had no choice; she lied.
“You’ll never forget him, but your . . . grief . . . will fade . . . in time.” An approving nod came from Father Elliot.
Gregory accepted her falsehood. He looked down at the puppy waiting at his feet. “Come on, Merlin; Bradley wants to see you.”
The dog gave an enthusiastic bark, skittered down the hall, and headed for the stairs to the second floor. No one attempted to catch him. They knew where he’d be.
Riotous sounds erupted from Bradley’s room: Merlin barking and the little boy’s laughter. The boy’s father hesitated at the doorway, his eyes misty and his bottom lip quivering.