Perfectly Matched Read online

“I know.”

  “So, what happened with her?”

  “Just teaching her a little lesson,” I said.

  “And how long are you planning to let her suffer?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  I could hear the smile in her voice. “Every once in a while, I get a little glimpse of your father in you.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”

  “I’m not sure, either.”

  “So much for your raise,” I teased.

  She laughed, promised to keep me up-to-date on the Annie situation, and hung up. As I tucked my phone away, my gaze lingered on the pink bear.

  I pulled it from my tote bag and removed it from its plastic casing. Holding it in my hands, I tried again to get a reading.

  The bear’s fur, though matted from love and time, was still soft under my fingertips. Closing my eyes, I pictured Bethany holding the bear, serving it tea, reading to it, talking to it. The bear was her clearly her friend, and I wondered if she missed her buddy.

  If she was still alive to miss it.

  I hugged the bear to my chest and rested my chin atop its head.

  My palms tingled, a light flashed and once again I was looking at a scene through someone else’s eyes.

  Bethany’s eyes.

  I saw clearly the man who’d taken her, and the truck he drove. I forced myself to focus on trying to read the license plate. I could tell only that it was a Maine plate—the numbers were obscured with a thick layer of mud. The truck itself was a black Ford. No dents, no dings, no rust spots. A truck that millions of people probably owned.

  The man was tall. Dark hair stuck out from beneath a black knit cap. Plain blue eyes. Unruly backwoods beard. Dirty coveralls. Short, clean fingernails. His coat was one I recognized as being from a high-priced designer.

  This was no backwoodsman. The clothes, the beard, were part of his disguise.

  I jumped as the door to the radiology room opened and nearly dropped the bear.

  The visions vanished. Woozy, I rubbed my eyes.

  Dr. Paul tipped his head as he came toward me. He glanced at the bear, then up at me again. I was surprised to see the amount of kindness in his eyes. He did not strike me as a kind man.

  “Did you see anything?”

  “The man who took her,” I said, carefully tucking the bear into its bag. “And the truck.”

  “Maine plates?” he said.

  My head snapped to look at him. “You knew that?”

  “I saw it this morning,” he said, sitting on the edge of the x-ray table.

  “You didn’t say anything.”

  He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “I don’t always believe it’s best to reveal your hand all at once. After class, I did call Orlinda to let her know and left a message on her voicemail.”

  And he’d told me... Realization dawned. “You didn’t want Annie and Dr. Paul to know.”

  “They’re the jealous sort, and there’s only room enough for one teacher’s pet in our class, don’t you think?”

  My jaw dropped. “You don’t want them picking on you like they do me.”

  “Can you blame me?”

  “Yes, yes I can.”

  He laughed, then sobered. “Do you think you could pick the man who kidnapped the little girl out of a lineup?”

  I nodded.

  “You should call Orlinda, then, and let her know. It might be time to take our investigating to the next level.”

  I agreed. “Do you think she’s alive?”

  “The girl?”

  “B—” I cut myself off from saying “Bethany.” For some reason, I didn’t want to tell him her name. I supposed I wasn’t keen on revealing all my cards, either. I nodded.

  “I don’t know. Usually, I can only feel spirits leaving a body and when departed loved ones visit those close to death.”

  “Usually?”

  “Lately, I’ve been able to feel spirits around all the time. But I haven’t yet learned how to communicate with them.”

  I was curious. “How do you feel them?”

  “A cold wind, a chill right to the bone.”

  “Is one with me?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No, but...”

  “What?”

  “Your boyfriend...”

  “Sean?”

  “There’s a strong presence with him. It pulses. You can’t feel it?”

  I thought about the tombstone I’d just seen and wondered if the spirit was Sean’s mother. “Not at all.”

  “Strange how our abilities are so different. I suppose that’s why there can be so many charlatans. It’s not as though being psychic comes with a set of rules.”

  I nodded. “Rules would be nice. Page forty-two,” I intoned. “How to speak to the dead. Step one.”

  He laughed. “That would be useful.”

  “Preston thinks you’re the Grim Reaper.”

  “I know. I’ve been having fun with her all day.”

  I was beginning to like Dr. Paul. First Graham, now Dr. Paul. Next thing I knew I was going to be BFFs with Boobalicious Annie.

  “Did you get her to have blood work done?” he asked.

  “Not yet. I’m working on it. I have to tell you, though, that she’s probably not going to do it. She’s stubborn.”

  “I don’t like seeing symptoms and not having a diagnosis. Keep an eye on her.” He glanced toward my foot, then looked around. “Where’s the tech?”

  “Paperwork problems. I don’t have my insurance card with me. Or a credit card.”

  He mumbled under his breath about red tape and said, “I’ll take care of it.”

  In an adjacent glass room, he picked up a phone and made a call. A second later, he was back at my side. “The tech will be here in a second.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I picked at a loose thread on my tote bag. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you really collect tiny skulls?”

  “One for every patient who dies.”

  I felt my eyes grow wide.

  He laughed. “I’m joking! I used to have a collection of cat figurines, but my partner thought I needed to beef up my image a bit. He started the skull collection. It caught on. Now my patients give them to me as gifts.”

  “Your partner?”

  “Martin. He works in the Medical Examiner’s office.”

  “You can’t get away from death, can you?”

  “Like they say, Lucy. You can run, but you can’t hide.”

  ***

  My foot was broken.

  Not my ankle, thankfully, which would have caused me to be in a cast for at least six weeks. As it was, I had to use crutches and an orthopedic boot.

  Dr. Paul made sure I had the best orthopedic doctor in the hospital look at my foot, prescribed me some painkillers, and kept me laughing with death jokes.

  Maybe it was the medication, but by the time he left for the night, I thought of him as a friend.

  It had been hours since my diagnosis, and I was ready to go home. While I was in x-ray, Preston hitched a ride home with Andrew, without even saying goodbye. In retaliation, I’d sicced Dovie on her. In no time flat Dovie had driven to Preston’s place, made her pack a bag, and brought Preston home with her.

  Home—to the halfway house for the wayward.

  Dovie had a full house.

  Sean had called Em to fill her in, but insisted she didn’t have to come to the hospital since I was just about ready to head home.

  As Sean listened to a nurse go on and on about my discharge orders, I fought back a yawn. It had been an incredibly long day.

  It was another twenty minutes before I was finally settled in Sean’s car, my crutches stowed in the back seat.

  He put his hand on my knee. “I just need to stop at the penthouse for a few things before I take you home. I’ll stay the night at your place, if that’s okay with you.”

  I glanced at him through sleepy eyes. “Actually, you don’t
have to stop at the penthouse.”

  “Why?”

  “Because earlier this afternoon, you moved in with me. Surprise!”

  His face remained blank, but his fingers drummed the steering wheel. “I’m guessing there’s a good explanation?”

  Yawning, I nodded.

  “Well, I can’t wait to hear it, Ms. Valentine. But first, close your eyes and sleep. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

  Oh, of that I had no doubt.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I slept all the way home, only waking when the tires of the car crunched over the crushed seashell lane that led to my cottage.

  The sun had set hours ago, and the moon peeked out from behind thin, wispy clouds. Moonbeams streaked across the ocean, and the roar of waves crashing echoed in the night.

  A warm welcoming glow filled the windows of my cottage, and I caught sight of Grendel sitting on a sill, peering out. Waiting for me.

  I was glad Raphael had been by earlier—Grendel had anxiety issues and being home alone all day would likely mean a disaster for me to clean up.

  Sean said, “Stay right there. I’ll come around.”

  I yawned and stretched and glanced toward Dovie’s house, set slightly uphill from mine. Her house, nicknamed Aerie, was a glorious sprawling New England manor. Weathered wood and stone, it fit perfectly on the coastline, its many windows glowing like beacons.

  Sean opened my door and gently grabbed hold of my forearms to help me out. I adjusted my tote bag on my shoulder and balanced on one foot while he extricated my crutches from the back seat. I was allowed to put only minimal weight on my foot for the next six weeks.

  It was going to be a long six weeks.

  “Easy now,” Sean said, navigating me along the stone path leading to the porch. Beautiful annuals bloomed, their color lit by small garden lights. The wind was blowing just enough for me to feel the spray of the ocean’s breakers, a gentle mist that would coat the many windows of my cottage—a former artist’s retreat—with salt.

  The air was rich with the heady scent of lilacs. There were several varieties planted alongside my cottage to ensure blooms well into June. I treasured those shrubs, which had come from cuttings from my mother’s garden.

  I loved this cottage. It was home.

  Especially now that Sean would be living here, too.

  I managed the few porch stairs, paused at the front door, then looked back at him.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I don’t have a key.”

  His dark eyebrows drew downward. “Where is it? In the car?”

  I shook my head. “No, not in the car. I have no idea where they are. Well, other than maybe in a kitchen somewhere.”

  Confusion slashed across his face.

  “Long story,” I said.

  “You have a lot of those today.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  He pulled his keychain out of his pocket. “Well, I have mine.”

  “It’s not going to work,” I said. “Raphael changed the locks earlier. I forgot to ask him what he did with the new set of keys, though.”

  A voice rang out. “Yoo-hoo! LucyD!”

  Dovie.

  Sean’s lip quirked. “I think I have a good idea what he did with them.”

  We turned and saw Dovie bustling down the hill, along the worn path that led from my house to hers.

  It was a well-traveled path.

  But Dovie’s intrusion into my everyday life was a small price to pay for living here. Besides, I happened to adore her—even when she was pestering me about having babies.

  She jangled a set of keys as she came up the steps. “LucyD, my God, girl. What did you do to yourself? Em said something about your foot?”

  “I broke it.”

  Dovie smiled and waggled her eyebrows. “Bed rest?” She elbowed Sean in the ribs.

  I rolled my eyes. “No, no bed rest. I can get around on the crutches just fine.”

  “More’s the pity.” She tsked. “Well, come on then, let’s get you inside and get that foot propped up. I’m no stranger to broken feet, broken ankles, broken toes and what’s best is time, plain and simple. Time in bed is even better.”

  Dovie had once been a burlesque dancer and then became a choreographer. She still worked at the local community theater and had the best moves in her Zumba class. Tall, lean, and lithe, she kept up her looks by eating right, staying active, and visiting her plastic surgeon regularly. “Let it go, Dovie.”

  Above her head, Sean gave me a smile. He used to find Dovie’s attempts to get us to have a baby horrifying, but now he was amused by it.

  I was still horrified.

  “Party pooper. How long are you in that dreadful boot? Six weeks? Eight?” she asked.

  “Six,” I said as Sean took the key from her and slid it into the lock.

  The alarm system beeped until Sean punched in the code. Grendel let out a huge meow and sprinted over to me, only to start hissing at the boot.

  He looked at me like I had betrayed him.

  Just wait till he met Ebbie.

  Speaking of... I glanced at Sean. “You should probably go up and get Thoreau and Ebbie.”

  Dovie said, “No, no. I’ll get them. You stay right here with Lucy, Sean. I’ve made some chili, too. I’ll bring it down.”

  “Chili?” I said. “On the hottest day of the year?”

  “Fight fire with fire, LucyD.” She hurried out the door and scurried up the path.

  I plopped onto the couch and Grendel immediately hopped up on me. I guess he’d forgiven me for bringing the boot in the house.

  He was a creamy orange and white colored Maine Coon with expressive golden eyes and a weight problem. Maine Coons were normally extremely large, but Grendel tipped the scale. Marisol had put him on a diet, for which he’d yet to forgive her.

  Bumping his head under my chin, he purred as I stroked his fur. Sean walked over to the mantel. Raphael had unpacked Sean’s things and had mixed Sean’s pictures in with mine. He stood there staring at the assortment of photos.

  Finally, he turned around. Solemnly, he said. “They look good there.”

  I nodded. “You look good here.”

  He gave me a saucy smile. “Are you flirting with me?”

  I lifted my foot and placed it on my coffee table. “I’m under the influence of Dovie.”

  Laughing, he kissed the top of my head as he passed by on his way into the kitchen. My small cottage had an open layout. The living and dining room blended into the kitchen. The one and only bedroom was at the back of the cottage. I could hear my hamster, Odysseus, whose cage sat on my dresser, running on his wheel. He was up early tonight—it was only a little past nine.

  Sean brought me a glass of ice water. I stared at it. “What? No wine?”

  “Wine doesn’t mix with your painkillers. Doctor’s orders.” He took my tote bag and started emptying its contents. Discharge papers; my phone; the pink bear. He carefully set that in the bassinet that Dovie had gifted. I still hadn’t figured out what to do with it.

  I’d told Sean all about my experience in the radiology room—except for the part where Dr. Paul mentioned that Sean had strong spirit vibes around him.

  He normally took all my psychic baggage in stride, but he’d already had a tough day and knowing that he had spirits around him might send him over the edge.

  “To think I’d actually started liking Dr. Paul.” I leaned over Grendel and picked up the pile of mail on the coffee table that Raphael must have brought in.

  “He seems nice enough. A little strange, but nice.”

  “A lot strange, but nice.” I pulled a magazine from the bottom of the pile and groaned.

  “What is it?”

  I held it up as he plugged my phone into the wall to charge. “Parents magazine. Apparently Sean and Lucy Donahue are new subscribers.”

  This magazine subscription was probably what my mother had warned me about. Or, at least I hoped so.
>
  He laughed. I loved the way it sounded, deep and raspy. For now, he was content. Knowing him, it wouldn’t last long. The arsonist was still at large. Sam was still in danger. And I hadn’t yet told him about Graham’s vision. It was bound to be a long night—Sean never slept well when he had a lot on his mind.

  “She’s tenacious,” he said.

  “Delusional is more like it. I don’t know how to get her to stop.”

  He rummaged around in the kitchen. “The only way might be to have a baby.”

  I whipped around so fast, I nearly knocked Grendel off my lap. Which was saying something.

  Sean blinked at me innocently as he pulled a beer from the fridge. He twisted off its top and took a huge swallow. “It’s true.”

  We’d never talked seriously about kids. Hell, we hadn’t even been able to make a decision about moving in together until an arsonist forced us.

  I swiveled in my seat so I wasn’t craning my neck. “Do you want kids?”

  He filled Thoreau’s dish with dog kibble. “I’m not sure. You?”

  “I never thought I did, until...”

  As Sean popped the top off Grendel’s cat food, he leapt off me, incredibly agile for only having three legs and being overweight. He darted into the kitchen and meowed pitifully until Sean put his plate on the floor.

  I knew where Grendel’s loyalties were. In his food dish.

  Sean washed his hands and glanced at me. “Until?” he prompted.

  My throat was oddly clogged, and there was a sting in my nose. I bit my lip to keep my emotions in check. “Until I met you.”

  In my mind’s eye, I could see a little girl with my blond hair, his gray eyes. And a little boy with Sean’s dark hair and my brown eyes. I often had these thoughts, though sometimes the features were swapped. I wasn’t sure whether these children were the product of a psychic vision of my future...or wishful thinking.

  Sean came and sat next to me, his leg pressed against mine. “Even with all my baggage?”

  “That baggage has helped shaped who you are today. You’d be a wonderful dad.”

  His jaw slid side-to-side, and I reached my hand out to hold it still. Sean captured my palm and placed a kiss on it.

  Heat sizzled up my arm.

  He pulled me to him, bringing his mouth hard against mine, crushing me with his intensity.