So many truths slam into my mind all at once I have to press my fingers to both temples in an attempt to keep my head from exploding.
“Piper?” Mitchell asks, turning on the siren and lights and immediately pulling across traffic to park on the shoulder of the road.
“What’s going on over there?” Dad asks through the phone, which is now in my lap since I dropped it.
“Shh!” I say. I need quiet. It’s so loud inside my head right now.
Mitchell takes my head in his hands and gently turns my face toward him. He removes my fingers from my face and starts massaging my temples with the pads of his thumbs. I stare at him, and my mind quiets.
“Rebecca is only with Jacob because of the money. She’s still seeing Jax. That’s the real reason why he left the practice. They didn’t think they could keep the affair going under Jacob’s nose like that. Jax wasn’t even commenting on Amelia’s shorts that day during the poker game. He was commenting on Rebecca’s, but Amelia happened to be walking by, and Jacob assumed that’s who Jax was talking about.”
Mitchell smiles at me. “You got all that? Just now?”
“At a price. My head is about to explode.”
“Mitchell, take her back to your condo. I’ll talk to Dawson.”
“No,” I say. “We don’t know if he’s dangerous. If he was working with Rebecca to get Amelia’s money…” I cringe as my head throbs.
“Mr. Ashwell, wait for us. I’ll take Piper to my place and get her a cold pack and some aspirin. We’ll meet up at the hospital around five to talk to Dawson together.”
“Thanks, Mitchell,” Dad says. “And it’s Thomas or Tom. Cut the Mr. Ashwell crap.”
Mitchell laughs. “Can’t do it, sir.” He disconnects the call and places my phone in the middle console. “What am I going to do with you, Piper?” He continues to massage my temples, his face inches from mine.
“Aspirin,” I say. Normally, I avoid aspirin because it affects my ability to have visions, but right now I need Mitchell to stop being so sweet to me.
He leans toward me, and I tense, not sure what he’s going to do. He places a kiss on my forehead, and when he pulls away, he looks completely embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” He clears his throat and starts the engine. Without another word, he pulls back onto the road and drives us to his condo.
I wake up nearly four hours later. Thankfully, my head feels normal after the aspirin. I remove the cold pack, which is no longer cold, from my forehead and stare up at the ceiling in Mitchell’s room. I don’t want him to know I’m awake yet. I need time to think about what happened in the car. Lately, it’s taking more effort to push Mitchell away than to let him in. But I’m not sure either one of us is ready for this. He looked so completely embarrassed when he kissed my forehead, and I can’t help wondering if he’s never done that before. I think these emotions might be as new for him as they are for me.
God, we’re both completely hopeless.
I count to fifty before working up enough resolve to face him. I walk out into the living room, where he’s watching TV. He immediately turns it off when I enter the room.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Much better. Thanks for taking care of me.”
“Of course.” He pats the couch next to him. “Want to sit?”
No. Too much. Too soon. “Shouldn’t we get going? We told my dad we’d meet him at the hospital at five.”
“Right.” Mitchell stands up. “Let me get the bird some more water.” He disappears into the kitchen, and I move toward the bird.
“Hi, Jeffrey.”
Jeffrey whistles in response.
“Isn’t it weird that Hugo Spencer’s bird talked, but Jeffrey just seems to whistle?” I ask when Mitchell returns with the water.
“Maybe Amelia liked to whistle. Pets tend to imitate their owners. Not just birds, either. Jez can give me that judgmental look you throw my way all the time,” he jokes.
I roll my eyes. “That’s because she’s smart and you deserve it most of the time, but you’re probably right about Jeffrey,” I say.
The hospital is eighteen minutes away, but since we’re behind schedule and we are on official police business, Mitchell throws on the lights, minus the siren, and gets us there in fourteen and a half minutes.
“I’m telling my dad you were speeding with his daughter in the car,” I say as we enter the hospital.
“Please don’t. He still hasn’t forgiven me for the accident I got us into.” He holds the door open for me.
“Well, that was entirely your fault for being jealous that I talked to another man.” I pat the front of his shirt, and we both look down at my hand. Dear Lord, why am I touching his chest?
Dad picks that exact moment to show up.
I quickly lower my hand and tuck my hair behind my ear. “Any idea where Dawson’s office would be located?” I ask, quickly changing the subject.
“Yeah, follow me,” Dad says, his gaze volleying between Mitchell and me. Dad brings us to a set of elevators, and we take one up to the sixth floor. There’s an office to the left when we step off the elevator. “Here.”
The frosted glass door is only partially see-through, but it’s clear someone’s inside. Mitchell raises his hand and knocks with two knuckles. “Dr. Dawson?” he calls.
I see the form on the other side get up and approach the door.
“Can I help you?” Dawson asks once he opens the door, his eyes taking in Mitchell first and then me.
Mitchell flashes his badge. “Detective Brennan. These are my partners, Piper Ashwell and Thomas Ashwell. We’d like to ask you a few questions about Amelia Crane.”
“Amelia?” Dawson shakes his head. “Didn’t she die a few years ago?”
Playing dumb is never a good idea, but doing it with a psychic is just plain stupid. Not that he knows I’m psychic. “Yes, but your affair with her aunt is still going strong,” I say.
Dawson looks around the hallway, probably trying to figure out if anyone overheard me. “Come inside.” He ushers us in and closes the door.
“Tell me what you think you know,” Dawson begins as he retakes his seat.
“Actually, we’re going to ask the questions,” Mitchell says.
“Or, I could pick up that pen on your desk and read the energy off it to find out what we need to know.” I bob my shoulders. “Either way. Oh, silly me. I forgot to mention I’m a psychometrist. A psychic if you’re more familiar with that term.”
“What is this about exactly?” Dawson asks.
Dad’s positioned himself by the door, possibly to block Dawson’s exit while Mitchell and I question him.
Mitchell takes a seat and whips out his pad and pen. “We’ve recently spoken with Jacob and Rebecca Crane. Your name came up.”
“Yes, you see, Jacob was under the impression that you might have had an impure thought or two about his niece Amelia, but I don’t think that’s true,” I say, sitting beside Mitchell. “I think you’ve been having an affair with Jacob’s wife for some time now. That’s why you left Jacob’s practice, isn’t it?”
“You expect me to believe Jacob told you this?” he asks with a smirk.
“No. He didn’t. He has no clue that you and Rebecca are running around behind his back. But we know.” I make a circular motion with my finger, indicating Mitchell, Dad, and me. “And we can keep this quiet if you’re willing to answer our questions. But if you’re uncooperative, then we’ll have to go back and have another chat with Jacob and Rebecca, one that will include your name quite a bit.”
“Is this legal?” Dawson asks Mitchell.
“I’m sorry, but I zoned out for a minute there. Did Piper start asking you questions already?” Mitchell even goes so far as to look to Dad for a response as well.
I can’t help smiling at Mitchell. The man really does have my back in every way possible. He’s seriously going to be the death of me, though, because he’s making me rethink my entire life outside of my job. Worse, the expression on Dad’s face says he’s well aware of what I’m thinking.
“Piper?” Mitchell prods.
“Right. So, how long has the affair been going on?”
Dawson huffs. “If I talk, do you swear this stays between us?”
“Like I said, I don’t even need you to talk. I can find out what I need to know on my own, but I don’t think either of us wants me to do that.” I really don’t want to. What other people do behind closed doors is none of my business. I don’t want to see it.
“About ten years.”
Ten years. Longer than I thought. “How did you keep it from Jacob?”
“I talked about other women, so he never suspected. Then, at a poker game one night, I made that comment about Rebecca’s shorts. I didn’t even realize I said that out loud. I screwed up, and it could have ruined everything. I got lucky when Amelia walked by at that exact moment and Jacob thought I was referring to her.”
“Did you leave the firm, or did he push you out?” Mitchell asks.
“I left at Rebecca’s request. She said it was too hard to conceal her feelings for me with her husband in the same building.”
Gag. Dawson is an attractive man, but I don’t understand how anyone could possibly juggle two men at once. I can’t handle one.
“Did you know Amelia had a boyfriend before she died?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Rebecca never mentioned it.”
“You never saw Amelia with anyone?”
“Once. I was with Rebecca, and we almost ran into Amelia. She was in the same movie theater as us.”
“Are you saying you and Rebecca went on actual dates?” Dad asks.
“Not as much anymore,” Dawson says. “We’re more careful now after we almost got caught. You see, Jacob hates the movies, and since they’re dark, we figured it was a good place for us to go without being caught. When we weren’t at my place, anyway.”
“Who was Amelia with?” I ask, not wanting details about Dawson and Rebecca.
“I don’t know. I’d never seen the guy, and like I said, it was dark. He was wearing a baseball cap, so his face was in shadow. And he was seated. Amelia got up to use the restroom right when Rebecca and I walked in. We were able to dodge her, thankfully, and I kept an eye out for her after that.”
“Why didn’t you leave the theater? Why would you risk getting caught?” I ask.
“Rebecca liked the thrill of it. She said it turned her on.”
God, this conversation is getting more uncomfortable every minute. Mitchell must sense my unease because he picks up with the line of questioning. “Anything else you noticed about the man? Age? Height? Weight?”
“Not really. He was sitting, but I suppose he was pretty tall judging by the fact that no one sat behind him. No one likes to sit behind tall people in the movie theater, right?” He gives a nervous chuckle. “You swear you won’t tell Jacob any of this?” he asks.
“You have our word,” I say, standing up.
Mitchell follows my lead, and we start for the door, which Dad opens for us.
“Oh, wait. There was one more thing,” Dawson says. “In the movie, the lead actress was undressing, and someone in the audience whistled really loudly. I turned around and saw Amelia smacking her date.”
“He was the one who whistled,” I say, my senses tingling.
“Yeah, not that it’s really important, but he did it three more times before the movie was over, so I remembered it.”
Actually, it’s really important. “Thank you,” I say, stepping out into the hallway.
“What’s that look for?” Mitchell asks me.
“I was on to something in your condo when I asked about why Jeffrey whistles. He does it because Amelia’s late-night boyfriend did it.”
“You’re sure he’s our killer?”
“He’s our killer all right.”