The Lady Has a Past (Burning Cove #5) - Amanda Quick Page 0,7

his right hand burned a little. The doctor had warned him he might experience some itching or irritation from time to time. Acid burns often took a long time to heal. He was told it had something to do with nerve damage. But he suspected that his other senses had been affected, too. He was more acutely aware of the energy laid down in objects than he had been before the McGruder case.

He massaged the roughened skin for a moment and then fired up the powerful engine. A glass of whiskey would calm things down.

He drove away from the mansion and headed toward Santa Monica. The familiar rush of energy that came with the successful closing of a case hit his veins like a powerful drug. It would inevitably be followed by the crash, but for now he could savor the satisfaction.

It would have been nice to share the victory with someone, preferably an interesting woman, but there was no one waiting for him at the house. He was well aware that was his own fault.

He enjoyed the company of women but he had learned the hard way to keep things superficial. His relationships always ended badly. Either the lady realized there was no future with him and left to pursue other options or she discovered his secrets and fled.

It occurred to him that he was reflecting on the past. That was not good. The thrill of success was wearing off already, and he hadn’t even had a chance to enjoy some whiskey. Maybe he needed a vacation.

In the morning he had to drive to Burning Cove to deliver the contents of the briefcase to Luther Pell. Why not stay there for a while? He would book a room at a nice hotel. Spend his mornings relaxing in a lounge chair while reading the latest Cooper Boone mystery. In the afternoons he would take long walks on the beach. In the evenings he would drink ice-cold martinis in Pell’s nightclub.

And maybe, with a little luck, he would meet the perfect woman—a sophisticated, reckless, experienced divorcée who was fresh off the train from Reno and eager to celebrate her newfound freedom, no strings attached. The kind of woman high-minded people labeled fast. He got a pleasant little frisson of anticipation at the thought.

A short time later he pulled into the garage attached to the house that served as his home and his business. There was no sign out front. He worked by referral only.

He would have a drink and get some sleep. In the morning he would pack and head for Burning Cove.

He collected the mail from the box, used his key to open the front door, and let himself into the darkened house. He turned on the hall light and paused to drop the contents of the mailbox onto the small table. There were the usual assortment of advertising circulars and bills. There was also a letter.

Most of the letters he received were from potential clients requesting his assistance in tracking down and authenticating a rare volume. Occasionally he got complaints because he had not provided the answers that the client wanted. It wasn’t his fault there were a lot of forgeries in the world of antiquarian books.

But the letter on the table tonight was different. The stationery was cheap, for one thing. Most clients used good-quality paper. If they couldn’t afford quality paper, they couldn’t afford him.

He picked up the letter. There was no return address. Cautiously he heightened his senses.

A whisper of anxiety. Desperation. Excitement.

He opened the envelope and took out the single sheet inside. The note was short.

Dear Simon:

I write with wonderful news. A prestigious academic institution in California is offering me a position in its new parapsychology laboratory. It is a fully equipped and well-funded facility designed to rival the parapsychology lab that Rhine and McDougall established a few years ago at Duke University. There is one small condition that must be satisfied before the appointment is final, namely a demonstration of my paranormal energy–sensing machine. A simple matter, of course, but I would appreciate your assistance. I promise you it will not take much of your time.

I am currently finishing my East Coast tour. As soon as I am free I will take the train to Los Angeles.

I look forward to seeing you soon.

Yours truly,

Otto

Simon crushed the letter in his fist and tossed it into the waste basket. He had been struggling to close the door on his past for nearly five