Perfectly Matched Read online

  That boiled down meant that we couldn’t match ourselves.

  Not a single Valentine relationship had ever worked out. Couples either split up and lived separate lives (like my parents) or they simply dissolved the union (like my grandparents).

  So far there had been no exception to the rule. And even though my parents were once again dating, I didn’t hold out much hope that this current fling was going to last much longer.

  I was a relationship pessimist.

  Where that left Sean and me was yet to be determined.

  He knew about Cupid’s Curse, and I knew all about his disastrous relationship before me. We both had issues with love and marriage. Yet...we were together. We loved each other.

  But a wedding? A real marriage? It would be impossible.

  Yet, suddenly I wanted to be a bride more than I could ever express. My chest tightened, and I started rubbing at imaginary spots on the counter to distract myself.

  Raphael came back with another glass of iced tea and a small plate of fried mozzarella poppers. They weren’t on the menu—Maggie preferred healthy foods only—but Raphael knew my favorite food group was junk food and indulged me. Just in time, too, because I was feeling the need for comfort food, and I’d left my Twinkies in my office.

  My stomach rumbled as I stuck a popper in my mouth. Bite-sized heaven.

  “Your father stopped by earlier,” Raphael said. “He mentioned my services were needed to move Sean out of the penthouse.”

  “Dad’s a little uptight about the arsonist possibly burning down his house. Go figure.”

  Raphael smiled. “How does Sean feel about getting the old heave ho?”

  I nibbled another popper. “He doesn’t know yet.”

  “Ah. You haven’t heard from him since his meeting this morning?”

  I didn’t even question how Raphael had known about Sean’s meeting. I was convinced he had some sort of superpower. I supposed that’s what made him an invaluable right-hand man to my father all these years. “Not yet.”

  “Your father has given me a deadline... Four o’clock today.”

  I understood where he was leading me. Raphael was to move Sean out whether he was there or not. Glancing at my watch, I saw it was already after two. “If we don’t hear from Sean by then, just bring the things to my place.” Maybe this was the push we needed to see if we could—or should—live together.

  He nodded.

  I finished my drink, stood up, and lifted the cat carrier. “I’m going to go check SDI again. Maybe Sean sneaked in and just hasn’t had a chance to call me yet.”

  Pushing a salt shaker into its proper place, Raphael said, “I spoke with Sam a little bit ago.”

  There was something in his tone that stopped me cold. “Oh?”

  Quietly, he said, “He’ll be staying with Maggie and me for a few days.”

  My stomach clenched a bit at that news. “Really? Maggie doesn’t mind?”

  “You don’t sound pleased, Uva.”

  It wasn’t that.

  I loved Raphael more than I could express. He was a second father to me. My rock. If something happened to him...

  “Ah,” he said, chucking my chin. “No worries. No one other than you, Sean, and Sam will know where he’ll be. And he’ll be careful. He knows how to lose a tail.”

  I laughed. “‘Lose a tail?”’

  “Andrew has been loaning me some of his books. I really enjoy the Spenser ones.”

  I grabbed my phone from the counter. “You should ask to borrow the one he’s reading now.”

  “It’s good?” he asked, curious.

  “Definitely. Even Maggie might like it.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why do I think you’re up to something?”

  “Me? Up to something? Never.”

  “Hmm.”

  I leaned across the counter and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

  “After you shower, I hope.”

  “You’re off my favorite people list again.”

  His laughter rang as I pushed open the door and nearly walked straight into someone I never expected to see that afternoon.

  Chapter Nine

  “Graham?” I asked, wondering what he was doing here.

  He’d been frantically ringing the buzzer for Valentine, Inc.

  He threw his head back dramatically and said, “Lucy! Thank God. I was beginning to worry that I wouldn’t be able to get in touch with you. I’ve been trying to call, but all I get is a voicemail saying the office is closed, and I don’t have your cell phone number.”

  If he was hinting that I should give it to him, he was wasting his breath. No way was he getting my number. The less I had to do with any of the Diviner Whiners, the better. Especially Graham, who I’d pegged as a playboy the moment I met him. “What’s wrong?”

  “I lost my wallet. I’m hoping it fell out in your office—it was the last place I know I had it for certain.”

  His blond hair was slicked back instead of puffed up. It was a much better look than the wilted mess he’d had in my office this morning. I bit my lip. “I packed up my whole office this afternoon, and I didn’t see it. But I suppose it can’t hurt to take a look. If we don’t find it, I can do a reading...”

  He was psychic, too, but he couldn’t find lost objects like I could. His talents were more as a medium—communicating with the dead. But now that Orlinda had been working with the Diviner Whiners, all except me could also tap into other extra sensory perceptions. Graham could now see visions of past and present events. He was working on tapping into seeing the future.

  “That would be... Thank you,” he said. “I’m just feeling sick about it. Not about losing the money, because there wasn’t much in it, but of the hassle of canceling credit cards and getting a new license.” He looked at me with such gratitude, I almost felt bad for not giving him my cell phone number.

  Almost. I hadn’t completely lost my mind.

  He rocked on his heels. “Lucy, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why are you carrying a cat around?”

  “Long story,” I said, not wanting to explain it to him. “Let’s take a look upstairs for that wallet.” I reached for my key card to swipe through the lock and realized I didn’t have my tote bag.

  Panic bloomed until I spun around and saw Raphael coming through the Porcupine’s door with my bag.

  He was giving me a look I knew all too well. Part chastisement, part “why am I not surprised.” “You left it on the floor.”

  I kissed his cheek. “You’re back on my favorite person list.” I motioned to Graham and made quick introductions.

  I was just about to drop my phone into my tote when a young man on a skateboard rolled straight toward us. Graham pushed me aside before I was knocked over, but as the young man passed, he snatched my tote bag and zipped away.

  “No!” I cried. “My bag!” I started after him. I needed my tote back. The pink bear was in there.

  I teetered on my wedge heels and was quickly passed by both Raphael and Graham as they gave chase.

  As I tried to keep Ebbie as level as possible, I dodged tourists and wondered how on earth the skateboarder could navigate these crowds so easily. I tripped on a crack in the sidewalk, and my left ankle gave out. Thankfully, a stranger passing by grabbed me before I hit the ground, but a sharp pain radiated up my leg.

  After thanking him profusely, I limped to the end of the block. I was out of breath, and Ebbie was voicing her displeasure at being jostled.

  I shaded my eyes against the sun and peered down the road. There was no sign of Raphael, Graham, or the skateboarder.

  I must have looked truly pathetic because several people stopped to ask me if I was okay.

  Although I reassured them I was fine, I most definitely was not.

  That bear was my link to Bethany.

  My link to finding her.

  I needed it back.

  Meeowww!

  “I’m sorry
,” I said to Ebbie as I limped to the Porcupine. I couldn’t keep carrying her around like this. It wasn’t fair to her.

  A sudden anger at Jeremy Cross flared within me. I recognized that I was transferring my feelings to him, but I didn’t care. Someone needed to bear my wrath, and he was the most convenient target.

  Not that there was anything I could do but fume. I had no way of contacting him whatsoever.

  As I leaned against the brick exterior of the building and waited, I realized I was still holding my cell phone. I didn’t know whether to call the police at this point or not. I decided to wait for Raphael to get back.

  Ten minutes later, Graham reappeared, drenched in sweat. “Did you catch him?” I asked.

  Shaking his head, he doubled over to catch his breath. Finally, he said, “That friend of yours is one fast guy. He was still following him.”

  A sinking pit was widening in my stomach. A mix of panic and dread.

  “Let me get you a drink,” I said. He looked about to keel over from the heat.

  He nodded, but as we turned to go into the Porcupine, he grabbed my arm. “Look.”

  It was Raphael, jogging down the sidewalk. He looked about as bad as Graham, but when I saw what was in his hand, I nearly cried in relief.

  It was the baggie containing the pink bear.

  When he got closer, I limped over to him and threw my arms around him.

  “Huh,” Graham said. “How come I didn’t get that kind of reception?”

  Raphael pulled away. “Uva, I’m all sweaty.”

  “And smell, too, but I don’t care.” I reached for the bear and hugged the package to me. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

  His eyebrows dipped. “For an old bear?”

  “It’s not just an old bear,” I murmured.

  “In that case, I’m glad it bounced out of your bag during the chase. We should call the police,” he said. “The thief still has your bag. Your wallet is in there, yes?”

  I nodded.

  “Come. We have to take action. Cancel credit cards, change locks. There’s much to do. “You,” he said to Graham. “Come inside. We’ll get you a cold drink.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” he said, following us into the Porcupine.

  While Raphael disappeared into the kitchen, I sat on the same stool I had before, with Ebbie on one side and Graham on the other. I said, “I bet you didn’t expect to run a marathon in a hundred degree weather this afternoon, did you?”

  “Not hardly.” He admired his bicep. “Even though I’m in spectacular shape, I was huffing and puffing after two blocks.”

  There was no lack of ego with Graham. “Thanks for going after the guy.”

  “I’m just sorry we didn’t catch him.” He flashed bright white teeth at me. “Because I know what it’s like to lose a wallet...”

  Subtle, he wasn’t. “Give me your hand. Let’s just do it this way because it’s really hot upstairs, and I don’t want to be responsible if you have heat stroke or something.”

  Eagerly, he thrust out his hand.

  “Think about your wallet, okay? Color, what’s in it, that sort of thing.”

  He nodded.

  Taking a deep breath, I placed my hand atop his. The second our palms touched, my mind spun with images. I tried to pick out details and take mental notes of what I was seeing. Finally, I took my hand away and drew in even breaths to chase away the dizziness that always accompanied a reading. “Your wallet is in a taxi, under the driver’s seat.”

  He slapped his head. “The taxi! That makes sense.”

  “Didn’t you realize your wallet was missing when you paid the fare?”

  With a sly smile, he said, “Annie paid.”

  Boobalicious Annie Hendrix, from the Diviner Whiners. “And you let her?”

  “Hey, I’m a modern guy. I let girls pay for things.”

  I bet he did.

  After grabbing a napkin and a pen from behind the counter, I wrote down the taxi information and passed it to him.

  “Thanks,” he said. “I owe you.”

  I glanced toward the kitchen door, wondering what was keeping Raphael. “Not after chasing that guy you don’t. Let’s call it even.”

  “Deal,” he said. Then he nodded to my hands. “Can you do a reading on yourself? To find your own wallet?”

  With the tip of my finger, I traced the myriad lines on my palms and shook my head. “I’ve never had any success.”

  “Want me to try?”

  This was unfamiliar territory. I wasn’t used to people offering to do readings for me. And I really wasn’t used to Graham being nice. “We can try.”

  He held out his hand, palm up. Slowly, I lowered my hand on top of his. Since he wasn’t thinking of anything he’d lost, I had no visions. Instead, I watched him closely. His eyes squeezed shut, and his thick eyebrows drew downward in concentration.

  Suddenly, his eyes popped open and filled with wonder. “I think I saw it!”

  Shock rippled through me. “Really?”

  “It was at a house. Sitting on a kitchen counter. Nice house, too. Two story colonial, pewter with black shutters. The kitchen is top of the line. Stainless steel, Caesarstone countertops.” A flash of anxiety crossed his face and he shook his head.

  “What?” I asked.

  It was as if a dark cloud sat atop his head, blocking out his usual brightness. “It’s weird.”

  “What is?” His sudden unease was starting to make me feel anxious, too.

  “Your driver’s license... No. This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Graham. Just tell me.”

  His gaze met mine, and I couldn’t decipher what was in his eyes.

  “It looked like your driver’s license is tacked to one of the cabinets.” He paused for a second, and then looked away from me.

  The hair rose on the nape of my neck, and despite the heat, goose bumps popped up on my arms. “You’re not telling me everything.”

  “It just...it doesn’t make sense, Lucy. And I don’t want to worry you.”

  “Telling me you don’t want to worry me makes me worried. So you already failed. Tell me. I’m a big girl.”

  His jaw shifted side to side, the only external sign of the internal war he was apparently having with himself. Finally, oh-so-quietly, he said, “Your license had a red bullseye drawn on it.”

  Okay, maybe I wasn’t such a big girl after all, because suddenly I was scared silly.

  “But that’s crazy, right?” he added.

  “Looney tunes,” I said, trying to play it off. “Are you sure?”

  He gave himself a good shake. “I don’t know. This is all new to me. I could be wrong. I’m sure I’m wrong. It was just a kid who snatched your purse. Probably a druggie looking for some quick cash. Nothing sinister about it. You were an easy target, that’s all.”

  I wanted to believe him, but couldn’t shake the heebie-jeebies. “Do you know where the house is? Did you see an address?” It had to be somewhere close since Graham couldn’t see into the future. What he saw had to be happening right now.

  “I didn’t think to look. Do you want to try another reading?”

  I nodded and held out my hand. I’d had to teach myself to look for clues that would lead me to the location of a lost object. It was a learned art, and I wasn’t the least bit surprised that Graham hadn’t seen the address. With more practice, details would become second nature.

  I held out my hand again, and his warm palm settled over mine. His eyes squeezed shut, but this time when he opened them, there was no aha.

  He said, “I didn’t see anything. Were you thinking about the wallet?”

  I nodded.

  “Then I don’t understand.”

  “It’s me,” I answered. “As much as I’m trying to concentrate, my mind is spinning. It’s interfering with the reading.”

  “Try again?” he asked, holding out his hand.

  We did, with the same result. Nothing.

  “It�
��s no use right now,” I said.

  With a quick swipe, he smoothed back his hair. “This psychic stuff isn’t as easy as it looks.”

  No truer words had ever been spoken.

  Raphael strode up to us, carrying a tray. He set the tray on the counter and passed us two glasses of ice water. “I finally got hold of the police. Someone will be here shortly.” He handed me a bag of ice. “For your foot.”

  I’d been doing a good job of ignoring the pain, but suddenly it throbbed. I hooked my foot on the rung of Ebbie’s stool and winced at the sight. Between the swelling and the purple and blue bruising, I knew this wasn’t a simple ankle twist. I balanced the ice bag on my foot, and bit back a curse at the pain.

  Raphael tsked and shook his head. “This is the third mugging out front in the past week. At this rate we’re going to have to hire security.”

  I was about to tell him of Graham’s reading, about how my purse-snatching might not have been so random, but I decided to keep the information to myself for now. There was no reason to worry Raphael when Graham wasn’t one-hundred-percent positive of his vision.

  But I was worried. Yes, readings could be misconstrued, but a bullseye over a picture was pretty specific.

  A red bullseye at that.

  Red like blood.

  And just like that I felt queasy.

  “Do you think the police will need to talk to me?” Graham asked. “I’m meeting a client in an hour and need to make a stop,” he said, holding up the napkin with the taxi info. “And I need to shower. I’m never going to sell a house smelling like this.”

  “No,” I said. “No, you’re not.”

  He gave me a wry look.

  “What?” I asked. “I was just agreeing with you.”

  Raphael said, “We can handle the police. I can give a description of the punk.”

  At least he hadn’t said “perp,” what with all the reading he’d been doing lately.

  Graham pushed away from the counter. Glancing at me, he said, “You’ll be okay? Maybe I should call later and check on you.”

  I adjusted the ice bag. “You’re not getting my cell number, Graham.”