“You’re seeing something in those cards that you actually believe?” he asked in incredulity, looking up from the papers she’d given him.
She jerked the documents from his grasp. Because his square frame blocked the front exit, she turned on her heel and headed for the kitchen. “If you won’t leave, I will.”
She might not have experience with lawyers, but she recognized Jackson’s stubborn streak. Arguing with the man was futile. She jogged down the back steps and through the broken hedge into her neighbor’s yard. If he intended to murder her, it would be in front of the town gossip.
To her disappointment, he didn’t follow. The universe had never sent her a Magician before. She shivered. A man who could shine a light on darkness... Could lawyers do that?
Better question, did she really want to see what evil looked like?
She jogged down the alley behind the Main Street stores, pondering how to keep Loretta away from her lawyer guardian. The Fool couldn’t deceive a Magician without help. But she wasn’t an utter Fool. She popped in the backdoor of the bookstore/stationery/business shop and left the guardianship papers for Remy to copy and hold onto until she returned.
Reaching the agency’s loading door, Evie heard Mavis in the front. Mid-day clients didn’t exist, and her mother didn’t normally carry on conversations with Psy. Despite her veterinarian cousin’s attempts, no one could have a reasonable discussion with a cat. Or her mother, for all that mattered. That probably meant Jackson had taken the street path to the shop. If he wanted to search the premises, she hoped he enjoyed getting around Mavis.
She couldn’t cross the old pine boards of the storage room without the floor creaking. Since she didn’t want her mother murdered by anyone but herself, Evie grabbed the store’s secret weapon and lingered behind the curtains to study the situation.
Mavis didn’t turn from her examination of the crystal ball on the counter, but she knew Evie was there. She always did—another annoying factor. “Mr. Jackson appears to have misplaced his ward, dear. Is it safe to tell him where to find the poor girl?”
With a sigh, Evie brushed past the gauze and into the sunlight flooding the shop. Magic Scorpio Jax Jackson leaned his broad shoulders against the wall between the front door and window, his muscled arms crossed over his football-player chest. The only physical point she’d give him was that he wasn’t six feet tall and didn’t loom over her.
He quirked one dark eyebrow and focused his steely gaze on her raised weapon.
“A barbecue fork?” he asked with disbelief.
“Stainless steel, better than a stiletto, totally legal, guaranteed to toss a side of ribs.” Evie laid it on the shelf below the counter and answered her mother. “His aura is angry and stubborn but not that of a child molester. I have to reserve judgment on whether or not he’s a killer since he’s obviously military. His tarot verifies he’s the Magician, and combined with his aura, that could be dangerous and powerful, but not necessarily malevolent.”
“Then I can tell him—”
Evie vehemently shook her head. Mavis didn’t finish but gazed at her questioningly.
“I need to communicate with the ghost warning me against him. The apparition vanished after Mr. Jackson left, and it’s not with him now, which is very unusual. Spirits generally stay in one place, and this one never visited until he and Loretta showed up.”
Jax rolled his eyes. “Give me a break, ladies. I’m not a naïve ten-year-old, and you can’t convince me of your so-called paranormal abilities by talking nonsense.”
Evie nailed him with her glare. “You want science? Neurology studies prove that a degenerative lack of cells in the area of the brain that affects compassion, coupled with narcissistic arrogance, produces serial killers. You have yet to show compassion for Loretta’s plight, and your arrogance could topple walls.”
“You’re calling me aserial killer?” He glared at her in incredulity.
What little she could see of his tightly controlled aura flickered just enough to make Evie contemplate reaching for the barbecue fork. If she read him right, he was feeling guilt. Serial killers did not feel guilt. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a killer.
As if realizing he was losing control, he returned to robot lawyer mode. “You can’t defraud Loretta of millions with your fairy tales. I have forensic investigators who will strip that guardianship document into its phony components for the courts. You don’t stand a chance in hell. Let’s get Loretta back in school where she belongs, okay?”
“Documents?” Mavis asked. “Is that what I’m seeing in my ball? I thought they were old deeds. They’re yellowed and sitting on a desk, but I can’t read them.”
Psy leaped to the counter to peer into the ball, but he wasn’t inclined to add his opinion. He curled up around the base of the crystal and protected it with his skinny body.
Unmoved, the I’m-too-sexy lawyer slipped on his expensive sunglasses and jiggled his car keys. His entire attitude said he wasn’t going anywhere without Loretta.
Some other day, Evie might admire a man who could make a point without speaking. Right now, his refusal to listen was seriously crawling under her skin. She shot him a challenging glare. “There’s a red velvet lampshade in Aunt Val’s attic. Do you think if we put it on his head and wrapped a gold shawl around him, we could pass him off as a lamppost?”
Mavis looked worried. The lamppost’s lips quirked upward. Good to know he had a sense of humor. He’d probably laugh maniacally while hacking her up with his chainsaw.
The lamppost checked his watch. “Closing in on lunchtime. Loretta probably likes chicken sandwiches. Want me to run next door and pick up some?”
“I promised Gracie I’d stop by for lunch,” Mavis said worriedly. “Evie, does this mean you won’t be able to cover for me?”
Jackson quit jingling his keys.
Better, much better. He was finally recognizing he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon without her cooperation. Respect, at last, however limited it might be. Evie propped her chin on her hand and batted her lashes outrageously. “I think we should split up. Mom, you go say hi to Gracie and Aster, remind them I’ll be over to baby-sit tonight. Stop in and say hi to Pris and Iddy while you’re at it. I’ll stay here and let Mr. Jackson guess which one of us has Loretta. It should be a lot of fun.”