String of Tears, page 12
She hesitated. “It’s just that, the last couple times you were here, you were different.”
“Different how?”
The waitress hesitated.
“Look. I won’t know if you don’t tell me the truth. So please, just tell me the truth.”
“Shorter tempered, not as nice, tired, obviously very stressed. It’s not that you were mean or anything. It’s just obvious that you were going through a bad patch.”
“Did I say why?”
The waitress shook her head. “No, but you were really worried about something, and, if I’m being honest, I’d say you were scared about something.” And, with that, she added, “But you’re looking much better now.” And she quickly disappeared out of the door.
Jewel was left behind to stare at her reflection, once again wondering what the hell had gone on in her life and why she didn’t remember it.
*
Hurricane waited outside the restaurant for Jewel to come out and could tell immediately that something was wrong.
She hopped into his Jeep too quickly and then motioned at the steering wheel. “Can we just go, please?”
He nodded, and, as he pulled out of the parking lot, he said, “You want to explain what that was all about?” She told him, and he turned and stared at her. “She couldn’t give you any specifics, I suppose.”
She gave a broken laugh. “No, apparently people know me enough, but I don’t share well.”
“Unless you’re friends with her? That would make sense.”
“I know. I just … Obviously I was close enough with her that she felt that she should come into the restroom and talk to me to confirm I was okay.”
“Which says a lot about her,” he noted. Jewel gave a broken sob. He turned and looked at her again, then winced. “Hold it together. We’re going home.” And then he shook his head. “No, let’s go get groceries, so we don’t have to go out again for a while.”
“You mean, just in case somebody else says something, and I go to pieces?”
“No, in case we don’t want to deal with people.”
“I don’t think I dealt with people a lot. I think some of these visits out were more a case of trying to keep my sanity and not become totally antisocial.”
“And that’s probably what Charles and Lucas were for you as well,” he murmured.
“Meaning that they weren’t friends?”
“Oh no, clearly they are your friends. I just wonder how close you allowed them to get?”
She sighed. “I wish I knew what happened, what danger I thought I was in, and how I might have gotten into trouble. I mean, why don’t I know?” she asked, her voice plaintive.
“I’m wondering if maybe, by chance, you did know something, and you were trying to keep yourself safe and didn’t know who you could talk to.”
“So what then? I called Stefan?”
“He does …” Then Hurricane hesitated.
“Oh, don’t stop now,” she said, looking at him. “Not when it’s just getting interesting.”
He smiled at her. “Stefan has a lot of skills, but one of the things that he does keep up, … I know this will sound weird, but what he is a transmitter, both the sending and receiving kind, to let people, like you, know that he’s there to help.”
She stared at him.
He shrugged, turned back to his driving, and added, “I know that sounds bizarre, but maybe just try to hold that thought.”
“It doesn’t sound bizarre. … It sounds absolutely crazy.”
He smiled. “No, you’re right. It does. On the other hand, that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
“I’m not saying it’s wrong at all, and maybe that is how I found him. I don’t know. The fact that I don’t know and that all these bizarre incidents are happening is what’s getting me down.”
“With good reason, but that’s temporary,” he reminded her.
“Do you think the doctor’s right, and all my memories will come back?”
“I think we’ll go on the assumption that he’s right because what you focus on is what you create in your world.”
She stared at him. “That sounds like some New Age mumbo-jumbo.”
He grinned. “For some people it will be, but for others it definitely won’t.” And again she just stared at him. He laughed. “Oh, I get it. I really do. This sounds like it’s very far-fetched and incredibly hard to deal with,” he agreed. “So again have a little bit of faith.”
“A little bit of faith is one thing, but it does start to tax after a while.”
He pulled up to a grocery store and asked, “Is this place okay?”
“Sure.” She shrugged. “I don’t know that I’ve ever been here.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing. I was trying to avoid places you might have walked to, so we didn’t have any more personal relationships to deal with.”
“Yet, according to you, that is a good way to get information.”
“It is, but we don’t want you on overload.” He turned off the engine and added, “Now, if you don’t want to come in, I can go in alone.”
“I’m not a coward,” she said, and, pushing open the door, she hopped out. As she walked toward the front of the store, she looked around. “In a way I do feel like I have been here before. I’m not sure it’s an issue either way, is it? I mean, it’s not that far away.”
He frowned and asked, “Do you have a vehicle?”
She blinked. “Yes, of course I have a vehicle.” Then she frowned too. “I think I have a vehicle.” She let her breath out slowly. “Let me put it this way. In my mind, I definitely have a vehicle.”
“That’s something we need to follow up on.” He stopped and quickly sent the detective a message.
“Who are you contacting?” she asked, looking at him.
“The detective. He can find out if a vehicle is registered in your name, and we might track it down.”
“Do you really think I was in it at the time?”
“I don’t know, but we can’t go wrong getting one more piece of information.” He opened the door of the grocery store and held it for her to walk through.
She moved slowly, as if a little hesitant at what she’d find inside. So many things about her made perfect sense, and then she did something that made none at all.
He reached over, linked her arm with his, and said, “I’ve got a basket. I don’t suppose we need to grab too much right now, but a couple of meals’ worth would be good.”
“Yeah? I … I’m not sure I cook.”
“I do,” he stated cheerfully, “so that’s no big deal.”
“Wow, a man who cooks.”
“Ah, ah, ah. No sexist comments now.”
She snorted at that. “Seriously? You’ll cause a problem over that?”
He grinned at her. “I don’t cause problems over much, so just keep an open mind, and we’ll see what we can come up with for me to cook. I didn’t say I cook well, just that I can cook.”
“Good point,” she muttered.
They moved through the aisles, with a surety that he projected, knowing what he needed for a couple meals, and, when he stopped at the pasta aisle, she immediately reached for spaghetti.
“You like spaghetti?”
She paused, looked at it, then shrugged. “That’s what my hand is reaching for, so I guess I do.”
“Good, because I love spaghetti.”
“Do you know how to make a good sauce?”
“Yep, I sure do, but we’ll have to go to the fresh produce aisle for that.”
By the time they were done twenty minutes later, his basket was overfull, and she was carrying a gallon of milk. Looking down at it, she noted, “I’m not sure I’ve ever had this much milk.”
“I’ll drink it if you won’t,” he said.
“I’m not sure if I’m supposed to run in a panic at the thought of you being able to digest this much dairy all at once or if it’s so normal that I’m the one who’s odd at this point.”
“Just because you haven’t had a whole lot of exposure to somebody who eats and loves his groceries like me is no reason to run off in a panic or to insult me about it either,” he teased in a mocking aggrieved tone.
She laughed. “Says you.” As they got up to the cash counter, she froze.
He looked at her carefully and asked, “What’s the matter?”
She shook her head, and her voice was faint. “I don’t know.” Yet a note of panic entered her tone.
He quickly looked around, but her gaze was staring outside. “Is somebody out there?”
She looked up at him. “Maybe.”
His eyebrows shot up, and he nudged her closer to the counter, as the person in front of the aisle had cashed out and left already. “Stay close to me and stay focused on whatever it is that’s bothering you, and we’ll take it from there, when I’m done checking out.”
He quickly unloaded the groceries onto the counter, and the checker moved the items through fairly quickly. By the time he was done, Jewel was barely moving at all. “Come on. Let’s go.”
She looked up at him and shook her head. “I don’t think I can go outside.”
He stopped and stared at her. “How about we go out another exit?”
The checker instantly told him, “There isn’t one, only one way in and out of the store.” The checker studied Jewel, as if something were wrong with her.
Hurricane smiled at her politely and replied, “No problem. We’ll go out the front. She’s just having a tough day.”
The checker’s eyebrows shot up, but she didn’t say anything and turned to the customer behind them.
If they were trying to not make an impression or to stay on the down low, they’d just failed big-time, yet whatever was going on with Jewel right now was also seriously important.
Outside, he quickly stowed the groceries in the vehicle, but his gaze was on her. She was almost frozen. She did what he said, and she turned when he told her to turn. But, other than that, he got almost no expression out of her, and whatever this was, was starting to freak him out. He quickly got her into the vehicle, and just as she went to climb up, so he could shut the door, she froze.
“What’s the matter?” he asked urgently.
She turned, looked back at him, and replied, “That man coming toward me.” But her voice was struggling, as if an internal fight was going on inside.
He turned to watch a man, tall, dressed all in black. He looked at the guy, studied him carefully, and asked, “Do you know him?”
“No,” she whispered, but again that struggle with a single word was too evident. Then suddenly, like somebody cut a string on her, she relaxed. “I don’t know what that just was,” she stated, her voice tight, “but can we leave now?”
“Yeah, you’re not kidding,” he muttered.
He took one last glance in the direction of where the man had been, but he was long gone. Swearing to himself, Hurricane hopped up into the Jeep and took off from the parking lot. Rather than going straight home, he took several turns. When he was finally convinced that nobody had followed them, he pulled up in front of her place and turned off the engine.
She stared at him. “Did you lose him?” she asked.
“I don’t know that he even saw us,” he replied immediately. “I just wanted to make sure that nobody was following us.”
She let out a slow breath. “I’d feel better if we were inside.”
“Me too.”
He hopped out and grabbed the groceries, came around to her side. Making sure to keep a hand on her, he gently maneuvered her up the stairs and toward the front entrance.
“Is there something wrong with me?” she whispered. “Something in my energy?”
“Yes.”
“Was it from that guy?”
“I don’t know, but I need you inside, where, whoever it is, hopefully can’t extend the energy that far.”
She shot him a look but kept walking toward the door. “It feels like I’m not even myself.”
“I know. You’re not acting like yourself, and you don’t look like you,” he stated, his voice harsh. “Again, another reason to get you in safely.”
“Unless they already know where I live.”
“Let’s not consider that right now,” he snapped.
Once inside, he threw the dead bolt home, putting the groceries down right here at the entrance, turned, and looked at her. Then he reached up with both hands on either side of her shoulders and said, “Now close your eyes.”
She immediately closed her eyes.
Then he closed his, and, with a gentle breath of air, sent a warm cleansing energy over her. When he did it a second time, he began to feel some of the freezing around her body releasing. And by the time he did it a third time, he opened his eyes to see her staring at him.
“I don’t know what you just did, but I feel much better. Loads better.”
He smiled. “Good. I’m glad it worked.”
“Then why didn’t you do it out there?”
“Because I needed peace and quiet to open up my senses and also to know that you were in a secure place. I couldn’t release my protective energy in order to access yours because it needs to be in a safe environment.”
She shot him a horrified look, walked over to the couch, and collapsed on top of it. “I don’t know what has happened to my world,” she muttered, “but it can stop anytime.”
He laughed at the note of disgruntlement in her voice. “I’m glad to hear that because I need to have as much of your fighter temperament back as I can get. Nothing worse than trying to deal with somebody who’s in a victim mode, closed off and reeling from trauma.”
“I would never have said that I was somebody who would become a victim easily,” she noted, “but, when you don’t know what is attacking you or even what has happened, it’s hard to protect yourself from the unknown.”
He nodded. “So, had you never seen that man before?”
“I don’t know if I have or not. Whatever is going on, it appears to have been pretty complete.”
“That’s the problem. It wasn’t complete enough, so we don’t know if somebody is coming back, hoping to finish the job.”
She stared at him and shuddered. “You’re a very scary man.”
He looked at her and nodded. “This is very scary stuff.”
“That’s why you do it, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Imagine if, right now, you didn’t have anybody who understood this.”
“I’m not sure I do have somebody who completely understands it,” she admitted, staring at him intently. “You understand something about it, but I don’t think you know all of what’s going on, do you?”
“No, not yet. But I will get there.”
“Because it’s what you do,” she repeated, with a clipped nod.
“Partly that, and also because whatever is going on is dangerous to you, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“You mean, get hurt any more that I already have been,” she clarified, with a note of bitterness.
He nodded. “Now what I just did, we call it cleansing. It’s a way to ward off the negative energy, and what we just did could make you very tired. Feel free to crash there on the couch, while I put away the groceries.”
“I’m not tired,” she argued.
Yet, when he turned back to look at her, she was flaked out on the couch, already out cold.
He walked over and gently covered her with a blanket. “You may not be tired, sweetheart, but whatever is happening is exhausting you.”
Chapter 11
Jewel woke on her living room couch to the sounds of voices. She slowly sat up, looked around, and frowned, when she saw Hurricane at the door, accepting a package. She flung back the blanket, got up, and walked over. “Is that for me?”
“It is,” he confirmed, handing it to her. “Were you expecting it?”
She shrugged. “Again with a question I don’t know the answer to.” But she had answered it humorously, feeling much better. “I don’t know what the hell was going on in that grocery store, but I am feeling better now.”
“Good,” he said, looking at her intently.
She smiled up at him, patted his cheek, and said, “Honest.” With that, she walked away, already sensing that some of his worry had eased. “Sorry for being such a trial. Whatever the heck is going on obviously has a pretty good grip on me. Let’s see what came in the mail,” she muttered.
“Hardly the mail, a courier.”
She nodded and opened it up. Inside was another box, a small jeweler’s box. She pulled it out and set it on the coffee table, while she searched the rest of the box and the packaging, looking for some clue as to who had sent it. When she found nothing, she looked up, bewildered.
“Do you get orders like this?”
She shrugged. “Not very often, but I guess it’s happened a time or two, where somebody I’ve worked with a lot has sent something, but then forgot to include another element inside. But typically they would contact me by email or phone in order to make sure that I got it. No insurance on this, was there?”
“Yes.” He pointed it out on the back of the package.
She pondered that. “No return address, so that’s definitely suspicious.”
“I can track down where it came from,” he offered, “after you’ve opened it.”
She gave him a look. “Am I looking for a bomb?” she asked, her tone gaining in volume.
“I wouldn’t think so. Unless you tell me that is something you’re likely to receive.”
“No, I wouldn’t think so, but then none of this is making much sense either.”
“Agreed. So let’s open it and see what comes up.”
Shrugging, she opened up the jeweler’s box and froze. She looked up at him. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed on the couch.
Her mind was filled with images, images of women screaming for help, images of women just floating in some strange space. The terrible images of women ranged over young and old, but all beautiful, every one of them striking. When she suddenly jerked free of the images, she lay on the couch gasping, staring up at Hurricane, who looked down at her grimly, the box removed from her hand and his hand on her forehead.
