Page 102 of Family Jewels

“How was it different?”

“You know why it’s different. You wore a damn disguise back then. You could spout off about whatever you’d seen, and it wouldn’t matter—they didn’t know who you really were.But Raddy knows you plain as day. If you’d said anything to spook him, our agreement would never have worked.”

“Jed and I explained away tons of visions. Neely Kate too. And you said knowledge is power. It might have given us information weneed.”

“No.” He shot me a quick glance, his jaw tight. “Do you know how I got in this position as the king?”

“You’re forgetting I was there at the auction where you won your position, Skeeter Malcolm, watching you bid,” I said, pissed at his condescending tone. “I was the one who kept you alive. Because of my visions. I saw you die every which way before we got it right.”

“Yes, you kept me alive, but you didn’t get me a seat at the table.” He shook his head in frustration. “It took a lot of planning. A lot of biding my time. Knowing when to pursue something and when to let it go. Even when it goes against everything you want.” He paused. “You do it for the greater good.”

Was he talking about me? On second thought, it was pretty narcissistic to think so. He’d lived in the criminal world for over fifteen years. Despite the trials and tribulations he’d faced in his new role, he’d prospered. Then I reminded myself that he’d prospered as acriminal. It wouldn’t do to forget that. James Malcolm had killed men. But had he done it in self-defense or cold blood?

Everything I’d seen of James told me it was the former. But did it really matter? Dead was dead.

“The fact is that one more group of men is gunnin’ to take you down,” I said. “They want to kill you, James. You said it yourself: you make more money with your legal ventures than your illegal ones. So stop the illegal ones and become a regular law-abiding citizen.”

He ignored my statement and asked, “How do you know Kip and Hugh Wagner?”

I almost played dumb, but it would be a waste of time. “When we were looking for the necklace, we went to both pawn shops after we found out that Rainy Day doesn’t sell jewelry. We met Hugh at Ripper.”

“And Kip?”

“I never met him, per se. But a man was watching me from the doorway after I forced a vision of Hugh. My gut tells me it was him.”

He held his tongue for a moment. “You forced that vision because of me.”

“Well, yeah. I was confused. You’d hinted that Wagner works in retail, which would fit with a pawn shop, particularly one with a rough reputation. But Hugh hardly seems ruthless. So after I bought the brooch—”

“What brooch?”

“The owl I asked him about. It’s gold with red rubies for eyes. It fit Raddy’s description of one of the pieces that he said belonged to his grandmother. When Hugh handed it to me, I grabbed his arm and forced a vision of what he was doing Friday night. I heard Hugh talking to someone named Kip. They didn’t say anything you could use, but it confirmed that Kip was ambitious—and he acknowledged people were gonna get hurt.”

“And what did you say when it was over?”

“That there would be casualties of war, a phrase he used. But Neely Kate smoothed it over by saying I was talkin’ about a Civil War book I was reading.”

“You said youheardHugh and Kip talking,” he said. “Why didn’t you see him?”

I wasn’t so sure he’d be happy to hear I’d been preparing for battle with Neely Kate, so I’d hoped that part would slip past him. I should have known better. “When I started to force the vision, Neely Kate put her hand on my shoulder too. So I had two visions at once—Isawhers; I onlyheardHugh’s. It was the first time that’s ever happened, and I felt like crap afterward.”

“But you blurted out something related to your vision of Hugh.” From the way he muttered it, he was talking more to himself than me.

“Yeah. Although I’m not sure what I would have said about Neely Kate’s vision. We were standing in my kitchen.”

He was silent as he drove. It took me awhile to realize we were going around in circles, though it was obvious why—he didn’t want to draw anyone to his home. It only made it more surprising he was bringing me there willingly. He finally turned off the county road onto a drive that I could barely make out in the dark and thick vegetation. I considered offering him a free landscaping consultation, but he probably kept it that way purposefully. After we drove for a couple of minutes, a two-story house came into view, with a single light glowing in a downstairs window. It was fairly new—much newer than my farmhouse—with river rock siding, wood accents, and a small front porch made of raw timber. A large four-car garage sat to the side, but he parked on the circular drive in front of the house. The large lawn was neatly trimmed, but I noticed that other than the grass and the woods surrounding the house, there was absolutely no landscaping.

This was definitely not what I’d expected. While I’d known better than to assume he actually lived in one of his rat-trap safe houses, I hadn’t expected something socivilized.

“This is your house?”

He turned the car off and opened the door. “Yep.”

I opened the car door and followed him to the front door. Two Adirondack chairs sat facing the gravel driveway. He punched a code into a keypad on his seven-foot-tall wooden front door, then swung it open and waited for me to walk in first.

My mouth dropped open. The living room was two stories tall. A river rock fireplace stood on the opposite wall, flanked by two sets of double French doors. Comfortable leather furniture was arranged around it, but I didn’t see a TV.

“Are you hungry?” he asked as he set his alarm system.

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