Page 60 of It takes a Psychic

He smiled. “I have a thing for strong women.”

She flushed. “Charlotte and Eugenie Griffin were at the door of the Inskip School less than thirty minutes later, demanding to talk to me. Ms. Inskip tried to stop them. She couldn’t.”

“So you were the one who rescued Molly.”

“What?” Startled, Leona frowned. “No. I just told you, the moms did.”

“You made the call to Griffin Investigations, and even though you were only six and a half years old, you convinced two adults to believe you. You launched the rescue operation and it was successful.”

“I should have been paying attention. I didn’t even notice Molly was gone until I turned around. I remember screaming—”

“I repeat, you were only six and a half years old. Even if you had been watching your sister every single minute, you could not have stopped a grown man from grabbing her. What matters is what you did when you realized what had happened. No question about it—you rescued your sister.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Last night was different.

Leona was still trying to analyze and organize her emotions the next morning when she and Oliver, accompanied by an enthusiastic Roxy, who had reappeared at dawn, went downstairs to breakfast. Yes, the sex had been amazing—unlike anything she had ever experienced. Eye-opening. She hadn’t even needed the vibrator that was still sitting in her bedroom drawer in Illusion Town.

She had not had to fake anything with Oliver. Instead, she had been free to throw herself into the storm. In the end, there had been something beyond the physical involved. She would never forget that moment of breathtaking, incredibly intimate resonance. The wordtranscendentwas overused but it was difficult to come up with another description for what had happened. The sense of a shared connection, however brief, was unique. Different.

The downside of discovering real passion was that, statisticallyspeaking, it was extremely unlikely she would encounter another man who stirred her senses the way Oliver had. Maybe this was what Molly had discovered with Joshua.

On balance, there was no doubt that last night had been a life-changing event—at least for her—and not just because of the sex. He had given her a new perspective on the old sense of guilt she had harbored all these years. Her younger self hadn’t failed to act when Molly was taken. She had launched what had proven to be a successful rescue. The moms had assured her that she had done what needed to be done, but somehow it sounded different coming from Oliver. It sounded logical.

When they reached the entrance of the small dining room, she gave Oliver a sidelong glance, once again trying to read his reactions to what had happened between them during the night. Once again, she was forced to abandon the attempt. He had awakened one hundred percent focused on the problem of Vortex and the upcoming interview with Norton Thacker. He was a man who understood priorities.

Until now, she had not realized how annoying priorities could be.

Edith Fenwick was pouring coffee for the paranormal investigators. Darla Price and Baxter Richey were seated at a table near the window. They waved a good-natured greeting.

“Good morning, you two,” Darla sang out. “Any manifestation sightings last night in your room?”

“Afraid not,” Leona said.

“Oh,” Darla said, disappointed. “That’s too bad.”

“What about cold spots?” Baxter added, ever hopeful.

“Things were definitely not cold in that room last night,” Oliver said, with more than a trace of masculine satisfaction.

Leona gave him a repressive look. He ignored it.

“Make yourselves at home,” Edith said. She bustled forward with the coffeepot. “I was just telling the other guests that you are all going to be here for a while. The bridge got washed away last night.”

Leona chilled. “The storm didn’t seem that bad.”

“No,” Oliver said. “It didn’t.”

He did not appear surprised, Leona realized.

“Doesn’t take much to wash out that old bridge,” Edith said. “We lose it a couple of times every year. Don’t worry, it will get fixed in a few days. Coffee?”

“Thanks,” Leona said.

She sat down at one of the round tables. Oliver took the chair across from her. Roxy wriggled out of Leona’s grasp and perched on the back of a vacant chair.

“Help yourself to the buffet.” Edith poured coffee and smiled benignly at Roxy. “What do dust bunnies eat?”

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