Read Online Sex & Sensibility by Shannon Hollis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shannon Hollis
Ads: Link
dress could have been made for a brown-eyed brunette.
He glanced at her. “How did you—? Oh, in the cottage. The pictures in the mirror.”
“No, I saw her before, remember? In my first vision.”
“Right.” With a definite air of “I’m not touching that one,” he moved farther along the hallway. “Here’s a recent one.”
Christina’s graduation picture. Slowly, Tessa raised her hand and touched the glass that covered the photograph. She waited for that shift in reality, that sense of the tangible world fading slightly, that would tell her she could read something from the picture, but nothing happened.
He was standing too close. She moved casually down the row of photographs, moving backward in time until it ended with a ponytailed cherub in first grade. Still, no matter how often she moved, there he was, right beside her. In the deserted hall, she became increasingly aware of the power of him, of the sense that he was at ease in his own body despite the slight hitch in his stride.
“Anything?” Griffin asked.
“No.” She cleared her throat. “Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. You never know until you try.”
“So that’s what you want me to report to Jay? That it didn’t work?”
Tessa looked at him, a little surprised. “I didn’t promise that it would. We did pretty well for my first day here. We know she was trying to impress someone. We have one possibility—that the someone and the kidnapper are the same person.” She paused. “At this point in any good mystery, the cop goes off and compiles a list of all the victim’s known associates to see if anyone fits either profile.”
“Already done.” Griffin’s tone was flat. “Unfortunately, because Jay is so set on secrecy, we can’t call anyone to see if they know anything. And before you ask—” he held up a hand “—she didn’t keep a diary or a calendar. That would be way too organized.”
Okay, so maybe it was a mistake expecting a real cop to behave like the ones in books. But did he have to be quite so negative? Not to mention so tall and distracting? And did he have to give off this sense that he was waiting for something to happen? What?
She took refuge in speculation—stream-of-consciousness chatter that would put words, if nothing else, between them. “Surely her dad knows one or two of her friends well enough to ask them to keep it quiet. Maybe Christina confided in them about who she wanted to impress when they were shopping.”
“Right, and teenage girls are going to tell an authority figure anything? Or do what he asks them?”
“Probably not.” Then an idea struck her. “But they might tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
At the sound of the woman’s voice on the landing, both of them turned. “Hey, Mandy,” Griffin said, and the atmosphere of anticipation dissipated. “You haven’t met Tessa Nichols yet, have you?”
The blonde held out a hand and looked Tessa in the eye. “Not yet. I figured Jay was enough for anyone to start with. Nice to meet you, Tessa.”
The woman’s grip was warm and firm and her self-control was admirable. But the worry was there in her eyes and in the tight grip of her hand.
“We’ll find her,” Tessa said quietly. “We’ve already made some progress.”
Griffin looked from one to the other, obviously a little confused at what must look like a sudden change in subject.
“You get right to the point, don’t you? What kind of progress?” Mandy asked. Her clear gaze never left Tessa’s face. She tugged, and Tessa released her hand.
Griffin outlined what little they had, and ended by saying, “This is just guesswork, Mandy. I’d rather have something concrete to tell you.”
“We don’t have anything concrete,” she reminded him, and led the way back out to the landing. “That’s why Tessa is working with us. I’ll take whatever we can get, personally. Are you going to tell Jay?”
“He wants
He glanced at her. “How did you—? Oh, in the cottage. The pictures in the mirror.”
“No, I saw her before, remember? In my first vision.”
“Right.” With a definite air of “I’m not touching that one,” he moved farther along the hallway. “Here’s a recent one.”
Christina’s graduation picture. Slowly, Tessa raised her hand and touched the glass that covered the photograph. She waited for that shift in reality, that sense of the tangible world fading slightly, that would tell her she could read something from the picture, but nothing happened.
He was standing too close. She moved casually down the row of photographs, moving backward in time until it ended with a ponytailed cherub in first grade. Still, no matter how often she moved, there he was, right beside her. In the deserted hall, she became increasingly aware of the power of him, of the sense that he was at ease in his own body despite the slight hitch in his stride.
“Anything?” Griffin asked.
“No.” She cleared her throat. “Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. You never know until you try.”
“So that’s what you want me to report to Jay? That it didn’t work?”
Tessa looked at him, a little surprised. “I didn’t promise that it would. We did pretty well for my first day here. We know she was trying to impress someone. We have one possibility—that the someone and the kidnapper are the same person.” She paused. “At this point in any good mystery, the cop goes off and compiles a list of all the victim’s known associates to see if anyone fits either profile.”
“Already done.” Griffin’s tone was flat. “Unfortunately, because Jay is so set on secrecy, we can’t call anyone to see if they know anything. And before you ask—” he held up a hand “—she didn’t keep a diary or a calendar. That would be way too organized.”
Okay, so maybe it was a mistake expecting a real cop to behave like the ones in books. But did he have to be quite so negative? Not to mention so tall and distracting? And did he have to give off this sense that he was waiting for something to happen? What?
She took refuge in speculation—stream-of-consciousness chatter that would put words, if nothing else, between them. “Surely her dad knows one or two of her friends well enough to ask them to keep it quiet. Maybe Christina confided in them about who she wanted to impress when they were shopping.”
“Right, and teenage girls are going to tell an authority figure anything? Or do what he asks them?”
“Probably not.” Then an idea struck her. “But they might tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
At the sound of the woman’s voice on the landing, both of them turned. “Hey, Mandy,” Griffin said, and the atmosphere of anticipation dissipated. “You haven’t met Tessa Nichols yet, have you?”
The blonde held out a hand and looked Tessa in the eye. “Not yet. I figured Jay was enough for anyone to start with. Nice to meet you, Tessa.”
The woman’s grip was warm and firm and her self-control was admirable. But the worry was there in her eyes and in the tight grip of her hand.
“We’ll find her,” Tessa said quietly. “We’ve already made some progress.”
Griffin looked from one to the other, obviously a little confused at what must look like a sudden change in subject.
“You get right to the point, don’t you? What kind of progress?” Mandy asked. Her clear gaze never left Tessa’s face. She tugged, and Tessa released her hand.
Griffin outlined what little they had, and ended by saying, “This is just guesswork, Mandy. I’d rather have something concrete to tell you.”
“We don’t have anything concrete,” she reminded him, and led the way back out to the landing. “That’s why Tessa is working with us. I’ll take whatever we can get, personally. Are you going to tell Jay?”
“He wants
Similar Books
