“It’s documented,” she said, looking at Jeremy.
He decided not to respond directly. “What’s frightening is when people believe in magic and in spells. Even when what look like miracles occur—an unexpected recovery from disease, for example—there are underlying principles at work, even if, like frequencies, we can’t see them.”
“Now, wait a minute. Even doctors acknowledge that a positive attitude can help in a person’s recovery. The will to live can be very strong,” she argued.
They went on in that vein until it was time for a commercial, and when they went back on air, the phones began to ring off the wall.
Most of the callers were for Rowenna.
Many of them admitted looking at her picture on the Internet; most of them were keen on the idea of the supernatural, as well.
That was okay. There were calls for him, too, applauding the work the police did in solving crimes and bringing killers to justice. Frustratingly, Rowenna was just as happy when those calls came in, and she agreed with every caller.
What the hell was his problem with her?
Fear?
Fear of what?
He was single, self-supporting and over the age of twenty-one. He liked women. He’d never felt women were “easy come, easy go,” but at the same time, he’d just never found anyone with whom he wanted to share his life.
Someone with whom he would really want to share his soul and his mind. So much of what he had seen, as a cop and even now, as a private investigator, was horrific. How the hell did you share that with someone?
He almost laughed aloud at himself for the way he was thinking. He and Rowenna hadn’t even been on anything close to a date. He hadn’t been rude, though he’d certainly been cold and distant on every possible occasion. Something about her was too compelling. It was almost as if there were something, well, magical about her. As if—as crazy as it sounded—she owned his soul.
She had never tried to seduce him. She had been friendly, nothing more. She never seemed to feel the sparks that always hit him like an electric current.
Their segment at last came to an end, and they both laughed about their disagreements. Jeremy even quoted Voltaire. “I may not agree with what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”
The producer waved an all-clear and the newscaster came on. Together, they headed out to the anteroom, where Jeremy stopped dead still, his attention caught by a newspaper lying open on a coffee table.
“What is it?” Rowenna asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
He glanced up at her. “Nothing,” he lied. “Something just caught my eye, that’s all.”
“Oh, okay.” She sounded doubtful, but clearly she wasn’t going to push it. “Well, this was it, last show. Let me buy you a drink?” Her smile deepened. “You never have to see me again after today, you know.”
He never flushed, but he did then. He would like to have that drink. He would like to have a hell of a lot more. It was her last day, and it would be churlish to refuse.
Except today he really did have other—and much more pressing—concerns.
He inclined his head slightly. “I would love to take you up on that, actually. But the truth is…a friend of mine is missing, and I’m kind of anxious to find out more about it.” He indicated the paper.
“I have a laptop in the car,” she offered. “And there’s bound to be a wireless signal we can pick up.”
He hesitated. He had an odd feeling he was standing at a crossroads, and that if he accepted her offer, he would be making a life-altering decision.
Bull.
To prove the ridiculousness of the thought, he decided to take her up on the offer. He told himself it was just because it would be faster than heading back to his hotel, where his own computer was. “All right. Thanks.”
They said goodbye to the people at the station, then headed out to her car.
He was able to bring up the Internet easily and quickly found what he was looking for. His old partner, Brad Johnstone, and his wife, Mary, had been on vacation in Salem, Massachusetts, when Mary had disappeared at dusk from a local historic cemetery. The police had found Brad alone behind the locked gates, screaming for his wife. A search had begun quickly, but nothing had turned up other than her cell phone and purse, which were found lying on top of an old grave. The article mentioned that the couple had been estranged and were trying to repair their marriage.
Brad was made to look bad, with mention of an affair.
The worst was that Mary’s parents were convinced Brad had done away with his wife, and someone had suggested that Brad’s law enforcement background would have given him the skills to kill Mary and dispose of her body, before putting on a desperate-husband act.