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Psy immediately joined her.

* * *

Determinedto command respect from her unwanted house guest, Evie donned her best capris. Unfortunately, her only clean shirt seemed to be one with sparkly rainbows sayingBeing Human is Complicated, Time to be a Unicorn. Oh well, it covered her where it counted.

Most of the upper story of the sprawling Victorian was used to storeheirloomsthe family didn’t want in their own houses. Only Evie’s bedroom and a small guest room were habitable. She had partially cleared the small room for an office, but she’d not quite got around to figuring out what one did at a desk. Maybe she’d keep client files, should she ever have clients. She stopped to check on Loretta.

The fold-down futon couch in the office made a fine bed for a child. Evie frowned at the lump of covers.There was no aura in that bed.Loretta’s indigo was so bright that she didn’t need to concentrate to see it.

Panicking, she raced down the stairs, hoping to find the brat fixing herself breakfast.

The back door was open. Psy wasn’t circling his bowl. Milk sat on the counter.

“Deep breath, Evie.” She could hear the shower, so Jax hadn’t stolen her. She needed to have a long talk with the kid—if she found her.

Sliding on flip-flops at the back door, Evie stepped into the early morning sunshine. It would be a scorcher later today, but it was good now.

Mrs. Satterwhite had bacon frying—she must have received her Social Security check. A delivery truck was unloading at the hardware—Hank’s garden supplies were early. Her sensitivity to temporal disturbances picked up no new activity. All seemed normal. She crossed the yard to the back gate.

What wasn’t normal was a white utility van parked in the alley behind Hank’s.R&R, Inc? Never heard of them. Evie returned to the kitchen, found a sturdy carving knife and a small paring knife. Tucking the small one in her waistband and covering it with her shirt, she returned outside, brandishing the larger one.

As she approached the van, she could hear Loretta. The kid didn’t precisely chatter, but she could be loquacious when called on.

Wouldn’t kidnappers have gagged her and driven away?

Knife still in hand, Evie attempted to read auras through the van’s panels, but they were unusually thick—or whatever tools it carried blocked the humans inside. Oh well...

She yanked open the driver’s side door.

A hard arm wrapped around her waist and hauled her backward just as a... scimitar? ... swung across the entry, barely missing her nose.

“Enough, already!” she screamed, smashing her head backward into Jax’s nose. His muscled body and masculine scent—not nearly disguised by his recent shower—had imprinted on her memory. She didn’t care if he’d just saved her from nose decapitation. She was done with being hauled around.

The bald, tattooed tanned guy from last night stuck his head out. “You have ta knock.” He returned the blade to its hiding place.

Jax dropped her, presumably knowing her next step would be to aim for his shins. Hard to emasculate him when she was facing the wrong direction. The damned man smelled too good, and she hadn’t had her tea yet.

“It’s my alley, and I don’t have to knock for trespassers or potential kidnappers.” Evie glared at Hieroglyph. If he thought those tattoos were intimidating, he hadn’t met any of her family. She yelled into the van, “Loretta, what’s wrong with you? Don’t you know better than to talk to strangers?”

Even the kid had apparently not been intimidated. Evie spun on her heel and glared at Jax. “Is this your weird idea of a security guard?”

The lawyer was wearing normal jeans this morning instead of camouflage. But the bicep-revealing T-shirt wasn’t any better than yesterday’s. Maybe he couldn’t find shirts that fit better over that Hulk frame.

“They charge too much for parking around here, man.” Hieroglyph answered before Jax could speak. “And look at how the kid sneaked right past both of you.”

The back door of the van opened and Loretta hopped down. “Mr. Roark and Mr. Reuben showed me how to play Bubble Witch. It’s better than chess.”

Bubble Witch. Evie closed her eyes and held her tongue until she found an innocuous reply. “Pink hair and balloons?”

“Well, it’s silly,” Loretta admitted. “But it makes Mr. Reuben happy. And I knew they weren’t kidnappers. They have twisted bubbles, but they’re translucent.”

All right, that left her gobsmacked, as her Brit cousins said.

Jax leaned into the van. “Install security and go home, guys. I’m not paying you to babysit.”

“Hey, we’re not charging for sleep hours, unless we have to pay for parking. Those meters are rigged.” Hieroglyph sank into the driver’s seat and the back doors slammed, presumably by the unseen Reuben. Which probably made the tattooed driver Roark. Reuben and Roark,R&R, of course.

Even without tea, Evie recognized the need to speak up. “Hold up there, boys. I want to know these twisted bubbles before they set up security onmyhouse. And who gaveanyonepermission to set up security?” She tapped Jax on the shoulder and when he turned inquiringly, she shoved past him to lean into the van. “Out now, folks. Breakfast in fifteen. Use Jax’s shower if you need it.”


Tags: Patricia Rice Psychic Solutions Mystery Fantasy