 
Other titles by Elizabeth Maxim

Fiction

Advantage*

Bishop Pair*

Zwischenzug*

Positional Play*

Simultaneous Display*

Pawn Storm*

Dark Bishop*

Pin*

Bind*

Diagonals*

Promotion*

Analysis*

_Adjudication_ _*_

Metatron's Legacy*

Cauldron of the Gods^

Chronicles 1: Karma*

Beacon+

* Metatron's Army

^ Dragon Core

+Ghost Games

Published by Doorways Publishing House

Copyright © 2020 by Elizabeth Maxim

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher except for the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

elizabethmaxim.com

# CHAPTER ONE

Washington DC

2017

Twenty-nine-year-old Skylar Mueller stood at the window of the JW Marriott and watched clouds in the distance. She debated turning from CNN to The Weather Channel - for the space of about five seconds. She didn't need TWC. Hell, she didn't even need the clouds. She just _knew._

"Fuck," she hissed then shook her head in disgust. Of all the Freudian slips. Putting hands to hips she tried to assess the situation, gauge how much time she had. When thunder rattled the windows, she had her answer. Drawing a hand down the right side of her face she hissed again. "I so do not need this." And yet...

Believing there was a silver lining to any dark cloud she made her way to the closet. "I'm in DC doing the Washington two-step," she groused sliding hangars aside one after the other. "It shouldn't be a problem."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Twenty-eight-year-old Kirkland Walker stared out at the storm clouds, considered how perfectly they matched his mood.

" _You want me to do what?"_

" _Go to the dinner in my place."_

" _You know I can't stand that crap, the mindless twits, power hungry bastards!"_

" _And I also know you're the maestro at playing them."_

" _Dad -."_

" _I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't important."_

Talk about knowing how to play somebody! He shook his head in disgust at the same moment thunder rattled the windows. His father was right. He _did_ know how to play them. Because _he'd_ taught him how! He sighed as lightning streaked through a cloud. Was it really such a big deal? It was only the one night. Not even a full night. He was free to go after the speeches.

" _Alright, I'll go."_

" _Thanks. Look at it this way. You get a free meal."_

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye fought not to wrinkle her nose as she caught sight of the chafing dishes lined up like sacrificial lambs to the political slaughter. She detested these types of events where the food was likely to be as boring as the speakers. DC was tedious on a good day but in the weeks and months immediately following an administration change? Half the people were trying to salvage their spoils as they sought to keep inserted in the game while newbies looked to establish a foothold of power, knowing it was fleeting yet determined to make the most of it while they could. Tedium, indeed.

She swept her gaze to the room at large, noted a few of the usual suspects. One or two of them acknowledged her presence with a smile or a nod. It was easy to return the smiles as she could see they were as uninterested in the goings on as she was. But games were afoot and needed to be watched if not played.

"Oh, excuse me."

She turned. "No problem," she said easily. "It's a bit of a crush here in the doorway."

"If you want to follow me in, I can help you avoid any repeats."

A thunderclap shook the building and the lights flickered sending the noise level up significantly as people exclaimed or laughed nervously.

"I -." Another roll of thunder. She took his arm. "That'd be great."

"So, what brings you to DC?" he asked after they were seated and had exchanged names.

Skye smiled at the handsome man. "My boss is the one who is supposed to be here, but he had a previous engagement, so he sent me in his place."

"Huh," he replied spreading a napkin across is lap, "some coincidence."

"What do you mean?"

"My dad is the one who is supposed to be here, but he had a meeting to go to and asked me to come in his place."

"Do you work for your dad?"

"Sometimes," he answered good-naturedly, leaning back so a server could place a salad plate in front of him.

Skye studied her prospective silver lining. He wore his jet-black hair short. Tan skin, high cheekbones, and the lack of any stubble suggested he was Native American. Or partly, at any rate. He possessed enough European features to have her guessing one of his parents wasn't.

"What do you do?" he asked stabbing at a piece of lettuce. He was a southpaw which was convenient because it showed her right off he wasn't married. That didn't mean he was available. When the lights flickered and the walls shook, she made the decision to find out as quickly as possible.

"Where's home? Oh, what do I do? Sorry. I work for a thinktank."

"Home is Atlanta."

That he had no accent suggested he hadn't grown up there.

"A political thinktank?"

"We have a division that deals with politics, but I work in financial analysis."

"What does that do? That division."

"We're similar to a financial watchdog agency. We track large financial transactions, try to determine if they are the tied to a crime."

"You work for the government then."

"We do some contract work for them, but we also work for banks or other institutions that need to keep an eye on the bank account. How long are you in town for?"

"How did you get into that?" he asked at the same time. "I have a flight tomorrow morning. You?"

"Same. As to how I got into this, you mean finance?"

Mm-hm. Where's home?"

"Buffalo."

"Cold."

"I don't mind. I grew up in Montana, so I'm used to brutal winters and lots of snowfall. As to how I got into finance, my dad owns his own company. I used to keep books for him in high school. I was fascinated by the various paths money took. It's energy and it flows like energy, often through the path of least resistance like energy though in the case of money, that often translates to easy money which is more often than not either immoral or illegal."

He nodded slowly. He'd never heard it put like that, but it made sense. He decided to tuck that away for later consideration. "You follow the Bills?"

"I'm not really into sports. I didn't grow up in a place with a major league team so I never got into it. I'll watch the playoffs but other than that -." She shrugged. "I suppose you're a Falcons fan."

Skye didn't mind the small talk as it kept her mind off the oh-so-bland meal. And, it served a purpose. When the lights flickered as plates were being cleared, she decided it was now or never. "Do you have to stay for the speeches? I ask because I've been invited to a party offsite. I'd love it if you'd be my guest. Trust me, it will be far more interesting than listening to the braggarts about to get up on stage."

He smirked. "You aren't a fan of politics, are you?"

"God no. I wouldn't even be here but my boss -." She shook her head. "Anyway. I promised I'd go to the party and I'm enjoying your company. Can you go or do you have to stay so you can make a full report to your dad?"

Kirk was only somewhat surprised by the invitation, the sense of urgency with which it was delivered. Skye Mueller was energetic with a mind that tended to jump from topic to topic. Not that he was complaining since those topics tended to be interesting. And she was beautiful. With auburn hair he bet lightened up in the summer and vibrant blue eyes that seemed to miss nothing, she was definitely more interesting to look at than the suits on the stage.

"I'd love to go with you, but I need to stay for the first speaker." He'd chatted up a few of his father's cronies in the hall outside the ballroom so he didn't feel bad about skipping out after that.

She nodded. "Works for me. I need to go to the ladies' room. I'll be back."

Skye made for the bathroom connected to the lobby rather than the one outside the ballroom. She gave her boss a head's up via text then stepped outside and snapped a photo, texting it to him. As expected, the phone rang a short time later.

"Skylar?"

"Hey, Krissoff."

"What's happening?"

"I would think by the photo that would be evident."

"Are you alright?"

"I told you this wasn't a good idea," she said by way of reply.

"Yes, but has something happened? Obviously, we need to -."

"I've got a potential escape route. I need you to do a quick check for me."

"Give me a moment to get to a secure place."

Her boss was across town at another event. While she waited, she tapped a foot and stared at menacing clouds gathering over the capital city.

"Alright. Name?"

"Kirkland Walker," she replied then waited. She checked her phone when the text alarm chimed. "Yep, that's him."

"Nothing of concern."

She blew out a breath. "Thanks, Krissoff." She heard applause. "Listen, I gotta go."

"You'll stay in touch?" he asked, his voice filled with concern

"You know I will," she answered then signed off as lightning flashed and thunder boomed. Shaking her head – hadn't she told him? – Skye returned to the ballroom.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye tried not to notice how quickly Kirk's expression turned from surprise to speculation if not suspicion upon seeing the limousine that would take them to the party. "I assure you this isn't my doing," she said sliding across the back seat. "Krissoff did this."

"Krissoff?"

"My boss. It's his way of apologizing for sending me here."

"Ah." Kirk watched her kick off her shoes, noted toenails painted red through the stockings as she flexed her feet. "You think that thing is stocked?" he asked pointing at a fridge.

"It is. I'm sorry I didn't ask if you wanted -."

He leaned forward, grabbed a bottle of champagne. "Not why I asked. He set it on the floor. "Put your feet on it."

"What?"

"It's cool." He pointed at her feet. "I'm assuming they're tired from being in those heels. Put them on the bottle, roll it back and forth a bit. It will get the circulation going."

"Wow," she murmured, "that's cold."

"Feel good?"

"It feels cold, but yes, it does feel good."

He reached in, pulled out another, held it up. "Want one?"

"Oh, yeah, sure."

"So, Skylar. Pretty name. Your mom an earth mother type?"

"No, just a romantic who got the ancestry bug before it was fashionable. Believe me, it could have been worse. I could have been called Manx, or Hebrides."

"Manx?"

"The Isle of Mann."

"Ah."

"So, how long of a drive? Where is this party?"

"Alexandria, so not too long, depending on traffic. There's a catch."

"Yeah? What's the catch? Cheers."

"To silver linings," she replied clicking her flute against his.

"What's the catch?" he repeated then sipped from the crystal flute.

"We aren't allowed to talk politics."

"Because -?"

"This is a party for those who want to put in an appearance but aren't trying to hit anyone up for money or a favor. Basically, it's a break."

"Sounds like my kind of party."

She nodded. "The thing is, there will be plenty of politicians there. But they're the ones least likely to want to talk turkey. They do that almost twenty-four seven as it is so any chance to mingle with people in a non-work environment is prized."

"No doubt," he said and sipped.

"We don't have to stay long."

"Hey, I'm game. As far as I'm concerned, I did my job sitting through those two speeches, so the rest of the time is mine to kill as I want."

_Interesting way to put it._ She smiled at him over the rim of her flute. "Lucky me."

"Is there someone you have to connect with at the party?" he asked politely. Her smile widened. He'd just given her the opening she needed.

"If you're asking if I have a – liaison or something, no. I'm not with anyone."

"Then I'm the lucky one," he said and leaned over, pressed his lips to hers.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

It was all Skye could do not to jump when the spark she felt at Kirk's kiss was echoed in a flash of lightning. She did, however, squeeze his upper arms reflexively.

Kirk's entire body responded to Skye's touch. Buffalo? He detested cold winters. Maybe he could talk her into a visit come February. Atlanta got snow but they could mosey further south if it came to that. There were some gorgeous beaches to be explored, none of which were too terribly far from Atlanta if you didn't mind driving through beautiful mountains to get there.

Skye was so lost in the kiss she didn't realize the limo had slowed. Fortunately, Kirk was paying attention.

"I think we're here," he murmured against her mouth then reached down and slipped her shoes on her feet.

"Thanks."

"My pleasure." He put the unopened champagne in the fridge then stepped out.

"We won't be long," she told the driver.

"Yes, ma'am. Just text me when you're ready to leave."

"Absolutely."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

"Skye, it's so nice to see you. Krissoff told me you might put in an appearance."

"Hello, Senator. May I introduce my friend Kirkland Walker?"

"Any relation to Stan Walker?"

"That's my dad," he replied shaking the man's hand.

"I recognized the name. He's talked about you. We're on a small business advisory committee together. I like your dad. He tells it like it is. Refreshing if you ask me."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, enjoy yourselves. Help yourself to a drink."

"Thank you, Senator."

Hand on her lower back, Kirk guided Skylar toward the back of the house where people were gathered in small groups. He hadn't missed the look of surprise on the Senator's face when he caught sight of him with Skylar though he didn't think she noticed. She seemed to be distracted by the storm. Deciding to take her mind off it if that was the case, he asked, "Where to?"

Skye tried to process the question. The zing from that kiss was making it all but impossible to concentrate. "Um."

"Shall we take a look around?" He'd been at the house before, knew the gardens in the back were worth a look though the storm might have something to say about that.

"Sure," she agreed eyes on the windows, the flashes of light seen through them.

Skye allowed the handsome Georgian to lead the way though they did stop twice so she could exchange polite chitchat with people who recognized her.

"You seem to know a lot of people," he commented.

"The world of high finance is a small world," she responded easily.

"How often do you get to DC?"

"More than I'd like," she answered. "It's a beautiful city and an even more beautiful state but my trips are strictly business, so I end up spending what time I'm not in a hotel room sleeping in a conference room."

"Maybe you should pad the trips, do a little sightseeing."

It was all she could do not to jump when thunder rattled the windows. She smiled weakly. "Maybe."

"Skye, I thought I saw you earlier."

"Hey, Tease," she said, taking the man's hands and exchanging an air kiss. "It's nice to see you here. This is Kirkland Walker. Kirk, this is Brian Teasedale."

"Nice to meet you."

Kirk listened with half an ear as the two made polite small talk. He took a look around, noted a few familiar faces. Not that they would acknowledge each other but his father would definitely be interested. Confident his dad would overlook the fact he'd skipped out early – he'd run into the committee chair after all - he continued to scan for familiar faces.

# CHAPTER TWO

"It's such a shame it's storming," Tease was saying. "The Senator graciously opened the gardens for viewing but I'm afraid standing under the tents with those aluminum poles would be dangerous."

As if Mother Nature heard the remark, lightning crackled across the sky.

"Did you see that?" Tease exclaimed. "I wonder if these old row houses have lightning rods."

The house shook and was subsequently plunged into darkness. Lightning flashed briefly illuminating expressions that ranged from amused to frightened. Skye sighed. She needed to do something, and fast.

Servants brought in beautiful silver candelabras while guests pulled out cellphones to light up the dark.

"Listen, Tease, it was wonderful to see you but we're going to move on."

"But you just got here," he complained.

"I know but we've both got morning flights."

"Oh well, then. It was good to see you, love," he gushed then kissed her cheek.

"It was good to see you, too. Look me up if you ever make it to the Great White North."

The man shuddered. "Pulleaze! If it isn't Hawaii or DC in the summer? Count me out. Call me if you ever make it to the Cote D'Azur. We'll go shopping."

"Right."

Skye stood on the front steps and waited for the limo to circle back around. She took the opportunity to study the sky. Though it had yet to rain there was plenty of evidence they were under siege. Lightning flashed repeatedly and thunder boomed.

Kirk followed Skye's gaze. Was she afraid of storms? "We get 'em like this in Atlanta," he volunteered. "It's a way of breaking the heat and humidity."

"What do you mean?"

"Atlanta summers are hot and muggy. The temperature and humidity build for days, get to a point where something's gotta give." He pointed at the sky. "That something is typically a thunderstorm. The lightning releases the electrical buildup while the rain relieves the humidity. Storms usually bring lower temperatures but then the cycle starts up all over again."

If only it was that simple, Skye thought. Unfortunately, the storm looming over the city had nothing to do with the weather. Damn Krissoff! He should have known better than to send her here at a time like this. When the wind gusted, and fat drops of icy water splatted her cheek she knew it was time to act. Pulling out her cellphone, she sent a quick text.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk was caught off guard when Skye all but crawled in his lap the moment the limo eased into traffic. Yes, he'd planned on following up on that earlier kiss, but not in the back of the limo.

"What's the matter?"

"I was – I thought we'd at least go back to the hotel." Hers or his.

"We'll get there," she promised, "but why wait?"

"For one thing -." He angled his head toward the front.

"He can't see or hear us," she assured.

"But won't he – I mean -."

"It's fine. I asked him to take his time getting back to the hotel."

"You asked -?"

"I texted him. He's headed for the loop in case you didn't notice."

He hadn't. He was too busy noticing that his pants had become awfully tight. When she reached for the very obvious bulge, he made a strangled sound.

"Do you not want to do this?"

He noted she'd kept her hand on his crotch when she asked. "It isn't that. I'm not -." He'd planned on stopping to get a condom.

"This what's bothering you?" she asked holding up a foil packet.

He tried not to feel annoyed that she was so prepared. After all, it didn't mean she'd been planning this, only that she was a good Girl Scout and therefore, prepared.

"Look, if you don't -."

"I'm in," he blurted because he very much wanted to make love to the intriguing redhead who seemed to laugh at anything serious and dared anyone to criticize. And talk about refreshing! He couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a direct discussion about sex with a woman. When she reached into his boxers and took a hold of him, he brought his focus front and center. As he helped her get his pants down, he gave a brief thought to his father's report. Need to know basis? The old man definitely didn't need to know this.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

"What's your hotel?" Skye asked as she slipped on her heels. "I'll have the driver drop you there."

"JW Marriott."

"Oh, well, that's convenient."

"It is?"

"That's where I'm staying. Fourth floor."

"I'm on the third."

She kissed him softly. "Come up for a nightcap?"

"Only if it's you," he answered deepening the kiss. "I'm not up for any more booze."

"I'll see what I can do to satisfy you," she murmured stroking him through his pants.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk stared out the window only vaguely aware of the stream of chatter announcing the boarding, arrival, or departure of flights interspersed with the paging of passengers and airport personnel.

He'd gotten one of the best night's sleep in years, no doubt because he'd been snuggled with a beautiful redhead, only to wake up alone but for a note thanking him for a wonderful night and one of the more memorable experiences of her life. She'd tucked a rose and a business card into the letter, left it on the pillow.

He watched a plane taxi away from a neighboring gate, tried to get a read on his feelings. No, they hadn't talked about forever after, but he was irritated he hadn't gotten to see her before she left. He hadn't wanted to say goodbye. To that end, he'd planned on asking if she wanted to keep in touch, maybe meet up somewhere. He supposed the fact she left him a business card suggested yes but it rankled. He wasn't a Facebook kind of guy. Tech had a place, yes, but as far as he was concerned, they'd moved past that and into the realm of more personal communication. He looked down at the business card in his hand. There was no phone number and he wasn't about to email her. It was a matter of pride. He walked to the window. "Damn," he hissed as a plane on a far runway started into the air. For all he knew she was on it. Then again, there were two major airports that served DC. For all he knew, she wasn't even at that one.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Tucson, Arizona

Two years later

Officer Kirk Walker frowned at the daily intel sheet. "Someone bought the Garcia place?" He looked over at Duty Officer Andrea Sanchez. "Who'd be crazy enough to buy that dump?"

She shrugged, typed something into her computer. "Says here it sold at a foreclosure auction last month." She looked up. "All they had to pay was the back taxes."

"Could have bought it for the property, I suppose." Located at the edge of town, the house had a gorgeous view of the Sonoran Desert.

"I don't know," she responded. "Seems like a money pit if you ask me."

"So? Who bought it?" The name wasn't on the sheet

"Uh, let me look." He waited while she scanned her computer screen. She looked up. "No name, just an initial. S. Mueller."

His gut twisted. _S. Mueller?_ "No fuckin' way," he mumbled backing away.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just – nothing. Listen, I'm off. I'll see ya tomorrow."

"Have a good night, Kirk."

"Yeah, you, too."

In a daze, he all but plowed into someone coming in through the back door. "Sorry, Joe."

"No problem. Hey, Walker, you okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Just a little distracted."

"Yeah?"

He could see his colleague was ready to listen if he wanted to talk. He shook his head. "Just thinking about what I'm going to do about dinner."

"Yeah, I get that. Cookin for one sucks sometimes." He moved past him. "You could always go out," he called before stepping into the employee locker room.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

He was halfway home before he decided to go see if S stood for Skylar, and the only reason he decided to was because, distracted by the possibility, he nearly hit a roadrunner darting across the road. Damn things were everywhere, god knew, but if he wasn't so damn distracted, by the memory of auburn hair and piercing blue eyes, he would have seen it.

Pulling the squad car beneath a lone streetlight situated across from the money pit, he watched as someone – a very female someone – wrestled a garbage can toward the curb. Judging by the tug of war going on, the garbage can was winning. He took a moment to admire the curvy bottom doing such a fine job of filling tan shorts, the long legs; legs that had straddled him on the floor of a limousine some two years earlier.

"Hell," he muttered getting out of the car. "May as well get this over with." He got as far as leaning on the hood. God she was sexy. Even wrestling a can of garbage. He shook himself. She was probably married. He watched her fight with the can, frowned as something occurred to him. If she was married, why the hell wasn't he out there helping? Knowing she'd seen him pull up – the car at least - he sauntered forward.

"Need any help with that?"

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye had seen the cop car long before its driver parked across from her shambles of a house. She figured he was either going to the nosy lady across the road or just coming to check out the new resident. As such, she didn't pay him any attention, just continued to drag the damn can down a driveway she hadn't realized til that moment was so damn long.

"I said, do you need help with that?"

She turned. Her stomach warmed. "Kirk? You're a cop?"

He smirked. "Sure looks that way." He took two steps closer. "Do you need any help with that?"

"Um, yeah, if you don't mind. It's kinda heavy."

He reached for the can. "Holy shit, what's in here, the kitchen sink?"

She pointed.

He glanced at the curb. "I'll be damned." He looked into eyes he'd never thought to see again. "Seriously?"

She gave him what she hoped was a friendly smile. It felt sick to her. She couldn't believe this was happening. "I put a new sink in this afternoon."

"You did?"

"My dad's a contractor," she replied as she reached for a handle.

It wasn't difficult getting the can to the street. He wasn't much taller than she was, and she was strong. She glanced at the pile on the curb, wondered briefly if he was going to write her up. "I called the city. They'll do two special pickups for me since I just moved. So long as I space them out."

"They're good about that kind of stuff," he replied, "though you might want to leave them something at Christmas."

"Thanks. I'll be sure to do that."

"Need help with anything else? I'm off duty."

"No, I'm good. Do you want to come in for a beer?"

"Thanks, but I gotta be getting home."

Skye blew out a breath, nodded. The cool response didn't necessarily mean he was pissed at her for not saying good-bye. He might have a wife or girlfriend to get back to. "Okay, well, it was – um – nice seeing you."

"Was it?"

Now _that_ was uncalled for. He was pissed. Knowing there was nothing she could say to help him understand, she picked up the empty can, turned, and walked back to the house.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk stared after the beautiful redhead. His gaze slid to legs that had been wrapped around him in a hotel room at the JW during their _nightcap._ Yeah, he'd been an ass, but it was for the best. He didn't know anything about Skylar Mueller, didn't need to. He watched her disappear into the garage, listened to the dented automatic door clang to the ground then made for the squad car. He didn't miss the way the curtains at the house across the road swayed. He was tempted to wave. Mrs. Garcia, no relation to the man who'd owned Skylar's house, was one of the nosiest women he'd ever met. He'd never thought much about it since it helped with the previous owner but now? As he got in the car he wondered. How would Skylar handle the fact her life was about to become an open book?

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye stared at the face on the monitor. "How could you? I mean it, Krissoff, how could you?"

Brown eyes stared impassively. "I take it you've met -."

"Answer the damn question!"

"Before I do will you tell me how it is you met him? Or remet him, I should say."

"He's a goddamn cop!"

"I'm aware of Mr. Walker's current profession," he calmly responded.

_His current profession?_ He hadn't mentioned anything about being a cop in DC. He hadn't mentioned much about anything, come to think of it, other than that he worked for his dad who ran a small business he didn't want to inherit. As she hadn't planned on making a future with him, or even knowing him beyond one night, she hadn't gone into it.

"He drove to the house – presumably to check out the new kid in town." If she had to guess, she'd say the nosy lady across the street called the cops, told them someone was in the house that had been abandoned for almost a year.

"And you spoke to him?"

"He – he helped me get a heavy can to the curb so yes, we spoke."

"And?"

"And nothing. He left." She told herself it didn't matter that he'd refused her offer of a beer.

"I'm sure he'll make a point to come by again."

"I'm sure he won't," she snapped. "And anyway, he's probably married."

"He isn't," her boss calmly responded. "Nor is he currently in a relationship."

# CHAPTER THREE

Skye didn't bother to ask the man gazing back at her from his home in South Africa just how the hell he knew that. She also refused to acknowledge how her heart began to beat just a bit faster upon hearing that little fun fact.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked.

"No." It was obvious he wasn't going to answer her very pointed question – why hadn't he told her Kirkland Walker was living in Tucson? She never would have moved here had she known. Yes, Tucson had something very unique to offer but it wasn't the only location in the world to have the unique feature she'd been looking for

"Feel free to contact me if you need anything, Skylar."

"Right." _Cold-hearted bastard._

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk's Residence

Kirk barely caught himself from slamming the door.

"Kirk? Is that you?"

"Yes, Mrs. Cleary," he replied hoping he didn't sound as tired as he felt, "I'm home from work."

"A bit late tonight. Everything okay?"

He stepped into the family room, smiled at his landlady. "I stopped by the Garcia place, met the new kid in town."

"Pretty?"

He liked Genevieve Cleary. A widow, she'd been renting the top floor of her home – a classic Victorian situated at the edge of the arty part of town - to him since shortly after he'd come to Tucson. Though she generally kept to herself, she did make a point of keeping up with what was happening which meant she already knew the answer to her not-so-subtle question. "She is," he replied calmly. It was true. Skylar, named for the Isle of Skye, was every bit as beautiful as he remembered, every bit as curvy. "Nice, too."

"Mrs. Garcia told me you helped her with a heavy can."

"I did."

Knowing he would be facing the third degree, he'd rehearsed his responses all the way home, even stopping at one point so he could watch himself in the vanity mirror as he did so.

"So? Why did she move here? And of all the places, why did she move into that house?"

"We didn't get that far."

"Because? You should have made her feel welcome."

"I offered to help her with whatever else she might have needed." Well, not _what_ ever, but who was – he was done with that. "She looked pretty tired."

"Go by tomorrow. On your way home from work."

"I -."

"I baked her some cookies. Take them to her."

If he took a plate of cookies, he'd have to take it to the breakroom lest they melt in the car. If he did that, he'd be left with an empty plate. He explained as much.

"You're a cop," she countered. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. There's some leftover lasagna in the fridge."

He walked over to the wing back chair - a chair that had been her husband's favorite - kissed her cheek. "You're the best, Mrs. Cleary. Up for a game of cards tonight?"

She waved a hand. "I can see for myself she's spun your head around backward. Go eat then go to bed."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skylar's Residence

Skye paced the dark hallway. "Of all the people on the planet," she groused turning to stalk back to the far end. It wasn't that the guy was the best sex she'd ever had though he definitely won the most exciting award. Making love to him in the limo hadn't been on her mind when she'd asked him to the party. Knowing what would happen to that city if she didn't act, she'd anticipated getting to know him on the way to the party if not at the party, then spending the time on the way back to the hotel – either hers or his – flirting. She'd planned to make love to him in a bed. Preferably, his, so she had a good reason to leave before two am. But no, he'd been staying at the same damn hotel. It made sense in her opinion to ask him to her room for a night cap which only meant she planned to mess around a bit more, cuddle a bit more, then send him on his way. But she'd immediately seen how tired he was, that he'd accepted her invitation because he was polite. Oh, he enjoyed her company, but he was so tired. She was about to tell him to go when he kissed her.

" _Stay."_

" _Can I at least get my toothbrush?"_

She'd blurted the invitation before really thinking yet found the idea of spending the night cuddled against him while she slept too tempting to pass up. It had been months since she'd slept with someone and normally would never have considered spending the entire night with a guy she just met but there'd been something about Kirkland Walker. Or his kiss, rather. That zing.

"It was just a damn kiss," she hissed then turned and stalked back toward the kitchen from hell.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk's Residence

Kirk paced the length of the attic turned apartment. The space came with a kitchenette though Mrs. Cleary preferred he cook in her kitchen. Because she liked the company.

" _I like renting to cops."_

He'd learned about the situation from someone at work. The month to month situation he was in at the time wasn't working out.

" _You'll like Mrs. Cleary. Her husband was a cop back in Boston. They retired here years ago. He passed away and she opened her heart and her home. She's a nice old lady."_

That was true enough as was the fact she'd rented to a number of the officers at the station, both male and female. Most had been saving for places of their own while others needed a place where they could be independent prior to getting married. To date, he was her longest tenant. When his foot hit a squeaky board, he winced.

" _I can see for myself she's spun your head around backward."_

Her knowing gaze had been followed up by a snort and a brief explanation.

" _I have two sons. You think I don't know the signs?"_

Signs of what he wanted to ask but didn't. If she felt he needed to know, she'd tell him. Otherwise? He was probably better off not knowing.

Deciding he'd better get off his feet lest he give her ammo to be returning a call to Mrs. Garcia, he went to brush his teeth.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skylar's Residence

Skye stared out at the horizon. Nothing as far as the eye could see. Well, except for saguaro cactus. And creosote bushes. And agave. And milkweed. And Prickly Pear. And bats and coyotes and a host of other critters she probably didn't want or need to know about. She took a drink of ice water, debated whether or not to get an aspirin. Her muscles burned. Especially her upper arms thanks to spending most of the previous three days painting. When she wasn't ripping up linoleum.

A warm breeze lifted her hair from her shoulders. The screened in porch that wrapped around the back and one side of her house was her very favorite feature. Probably because it was the one thing that didn't need replacing. Well, that and that it provided a place protected from elements that allowed her to admire the beautiful Sonoran Desert. And, it didn't smell though she had to admit, painting and ripping out various pieces of the house – like the kitchen cabinets - had gone far to do away with that problem. Well, and the use of a flea bomb or two. And Lysol. And Clorox.

" _Have you seen the property?"_

" _I have."_

" _So you know -?"_

" _That it hasn't been condemned? Yes."_

The real estate lawyer who handled the transaction had shaken his head but said nothing further. She hadn't bothered to explain her father was a contractor, that she'd grown up knowing which end of a hammer to use. Any time she tried to explain that to anyone who wore a suit to work all she got was glazed eyes.

The sound of a car approaching got her attention. There were only five houses on her street, and they were far enough apart that noise was more or less a rare thing. Pushing herself out of the chair with a groan – it was definitely time to get aspirin – she craned her neck.

She wasn't particularly surprised to see the familiar headlights coming down the street. Was he going to apologize for the smart-ass comment? Doubtful. Not that he needed to apologize. He had every right to be pissed. A night of passionate sex and all she does is leave him a note? Yeah, she had her reasons. Well, sort of. Not wanting to think about what wasn't one of her prouder moments in life, she went to find the aspirin.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk pulled beneath the lone streetlight, glanced over his shoulder in time to see Mrs. Garcia let the curtain drop back in place. And all was right with the world, apparently. Except for his sanity, maybe. What on earth possessed him to come back? Pride, that's what. Damn fool pride and he'd likely burn in hell for it.

" _So? What's she look like?"_

He hadn't been surprised by the interrogation he faced at work the day after confirming that S Mueller was indeed Skylar, the passionate beautiful redhead who'd fucked his brains out on the floor of a limousine on the DC Beltway. He'd answered every question as completely and neutrally as possible. Oh, and he'd been honest.

" _Yes, she's pretty."_

" _Are you going to ask her out?"_

"' _I – I don't know."_

" _You don't know?"_

Caught off guard by the thought that if he said no, at least three of the guys in the department were likely to line up – that such a possibility made him queasy – he'd told his first lie.

" _I don't know if she's with anyone."_

It wasn't a complete lie, he supposed. She wasn't married, he didn't think but maybe she had a boyfriend who would be joining her in the not-too-distant future.

" _You didn't ask?"_

" _I only introduced myself, welcomed her to the neighborhood."_

He'd also given her his business card.

" _My phone number's on it."_

Yeah, he'd been an ass. Which, he told himself, was why he was there. He wanted to apologize.

" _Well are you gonna go back? To find out?"_

" _Yes."_

" _Alright then. Let me know."_

Kenny was, like the other two precinct candidates, single though unlike the other two, he was recently divorced, which made him a terrible choice in Kirk's opinion. "Better get this over with," he groused then opened the car door.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

"Skye?"

She looked up from the chair. "Hey, Kirk."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure."

"It's locked."

"Oh, sorry," she said coming toward the screen door. "Habit."

"A good one to get into," he answered stepping inside. "Is this a bad time?"

"No. On your way home again?"

"Yep."

" _You go see that nice girl. Take her my cookies."_

"These are from my landlady, Mrs. Cleary."

Skye took the plate. "Wow. Thanks. Want one?"

"No but if the offer's still good, I'll take that beer."

"The offer's still good," she replied then led him toward the kitchen. "Watch your step."

Kirk eyed the chaos. "You put in the new subfloor?"

"I did." And had the blisters to prove it. She transferred the cookies to a bowl, covered it with plastic wrap after snatching two, then washed the landlady's plate.

Kirk was amazed by the transformation in progress. The place had been totally gutted. Several boxes of tiles were stacked in a corner. "You said your dad was – thanks," he said taking the beer. "Your dad's a contractor?"

"He's semi-retired now," she replied as she led him to the back porch. "I don't think you ever fully retire when you're a contractor. He does some consulting work though he's turned most of the business over to a friend's son."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk listened to the chit-chat coming out of Skye's mouth for about as long as he could stand without demanding to know why she'd just walked out after some of the most passionate sex of his life without so much as a by-your-leave. He wouldn't call it the best sex he'd ever had in his life because that sounded so fucking juvenile, but it was definitely the most passionate goddamnit. "Why'd you move here?" he snapped. Oh yeah, that was just so much better. He took a long swallow of beer.

Because she'd been waiting for the like, Skye didn't flinch at the venom in the inquiry. "To Tucson or this dump?"

"Yes."

She nodded, clicked her bottle against his, hoping he understood the message in the gesture; that she knew she'd fucked up and was sorry. "Would you go get another please?" The aspirin wasn't doing as much good as she'd hoped.

Kirk handed Skye the beer – and two little white tablets. "Saw the bottle on your kitchen counter."

"I -."

"And how timidly you dropped into that chair. From what I've seen? All the work you've been doing? Two's not enough and four won't hurt you. Not even with the beer."

She nodded, gulped down the two aspirin. "Thanks," she gurgled before taking another swallow.

"Talk," he demanded as he moved the chair so he could face her.

Skye didn't misunderstand the move. He wanted to know why she'd walked out of his life, wanted her to look him in the eye when she explained. "As to why Arizona," she started. "I guess I was getting sick of long brutal winters."

"There is an entire swath of the US if not the world that could satisfy that," he countered then finished the last of the first bottle. He twisted the cap on the second. "Why Tucson?"

"It was an option for a job transfer."

"You still with that thinktank?"

"I am."

"Krissoff still your boss?"

"He is."

"Huh."

"He's the director. People on his staff -."

"Meaning people like you?"

"Yep. We do project-based work so we have a lot of autonomy. We're like little satellites all over the planet." Were they ever!

"So, who initiated the transfer, you or him?"

"I think it was kind of mutual. He – I was burning out."

"He saw?"

She nodded. "Krissoff is very careful about that sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?" he asked. "Just so I'm clear."

"We work in a high-stress environment. High burnout rate. Some of the burnout," she went on quickly, "is just because we get bored. Especially those of us who stare at spreadsheets all day. So, he keeps an eye out, offers opportunities to transfer to different departments." She took a long swallow.

Something about her response put his bullshit meter on high alert. "That wasn't the case with you." She just wasn't the type to burn out. "So?"

Skye wasn't sure what to think of the fact Kirk had seen through her explanation so easily. Deciding it didn't merit the energy, she shrugged. "I was offered Door Number Two, Monty."

"And what is behind Door Number Two?" He clicked his half full beer bottle against hers.

_Peace, hopefully_. "A sabbatical."

"Seriously?" He looked off at the horizon, turned back. "Must be some spreadsheets."

She gave him what was probably another sick smile. "Yeah, it gets tedious."

"Listen," he said suddenly, and got to his feet. "I need to get home. Thanks for the beer. That aspirin should kick in soon."

"Mind if you let yourself out?" she asked as lightning streaked across the sky. She wasn't sure at that moment whether or not she should be grateful for the fact it was Monsoon Season. She was just grateful no thunder followed the light show.

"I know the way," he answered over his shoulder then disappeared into the darkness.

# CHAPTER FOUR

Kirk's Residence

Kirk decided to put his name in for _Ass Of The Year._ How else could he explain the fact he'd walked out on Skye when he knew damn well she was in a place where she might open up to him so he could get a glimpse of what the fuck was going on? Shaking his head, he pulled alongside the Victorian and made for the rear stairs that led up to his apartment. He wasn't up for a grilling, gentle though it may be, from Mrs. Cleary.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skylar's Residence

Skylar jerked awake to see she'd fallen asleep on the back porch. She groaned. The chair might have worked for sitting but a recliner it was not. A whine clued her in as to what woke her. She yawned. "Coyote," she murmured pushing herself out of the chair. She needed to brush her teeth. Going to bed with beer breath was terrible. At least the aspirin kicked in. As she made her way to the bathroom, she considered the fact he'd come back. No, he hadn't apologized but as far as she was concerned, he didn't need to. That he'd come back was enough.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

_Kirk's Precinct_

"Yo, Walker."

He looked up from reading the daily, gave Officer Sanchez his attention. "Yeah?"

"You ever check out that house? The Garcia place? The new owner?"

"Yeah. Skylar Mueller. Why?"

"Mrs. Garcia called. She said a bunch of cars have been coming and going from the place."

"What, specifically concerns her? And are they cars or trucks? She's doing some pretty big renovating. Maybe they're contractors giving her quotes."

"In the middle of the night?"

He leaned back. "Did she get a plate? Description? Does she think a crime's being committed?" _Why are you bringing this to me?_

"I know that's Chad's run but Mrs. Garcia said you'd been over there. Anyway, she trusts you." She handed him the report. "Will you follow up?"

He took the paper with a nod. "Yeah, sure."

"Thanks, Walker."

He smirked. "You're welcome, _Sanchez."_ She batted her eyes and sauntered away, leaving him smiling and shaking his head. A notorious smart-ass, Andrea was one of the brighter spots in the department.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skylar's Residence

Kirk parked the squad car beneath the lone streetlight, glanced at Skye's house. It didn't look as if she was home. She could have parked in the garage he supposed but he doubted it. The last time he saw it, it was filled with boxes and furniture. He guessed she was using it as a holding area until the debris from the renovations could be hauled to the dump. He typed in a quick update then made his way to Mrs. Garcia's house.

"Hello, Officer Walker. Won't you come in?"

"Hello, Mrs. Garcia. I understand you have some concerns you wish to discuss?"

"Yes. Can I get you some iced tea?"

"No thank you."

He followed the older woman into her kitchen. He glanced out a window that provided a solid view of Skye's house, noted which parts were easily visible, which were obscured by odds and ends he presumed she would eventually have hauled away. What on earth possessed her to buy such a dump? A clap of thunder came on the heels of the thought. He looked up at the sky, noted the absence of clouds. If he was the superstitious sort, he might have thought that more than a coincidence.

He took a seat, smiled at the woman who'd set an iced tea in front of him. "Thanks. So, tell me what's got you worried?"

She pointed toward Skylar's house, a ranch that was at a slight angle relative to the road. "There are cars coming and going at night."

He wrote. "How long has this been going on?" He hadn't been by in over a week, much to the chagrin of Mrs. Cleary and Kenny Clawson who seemed to think he was the source on all things Skylar Mueller.

" _I don't want to bother her when she's still settling in."_

" _You should help her."_

" _She has my phone number, Mrs. Cleary. She knows I'm happy to help."_

He hadn't been quite as polite with his colleague.

" _She doesn't need me pestering her. Or you, either. I mean it, Clawson, she's got her hands full with that house."_

" _And you would know because -?"_

" _Because I've been inside it!"_

He got the hint but that didn't mean he wouldn't find a reason to stop by and introduce himself, welcome her to the neighborhood. The thought had him clenching his jaw.

"For the last five days," she answered. "At night. Always at night."

"You're awake when this -?" he glanced at his notes. "You watch the late show or something?"

"At my age," she replied, "you don't sleep much. I watch TV, some, but -."

_Watching your neighbors is more entertaining._ He cleared his throat. "Is it the same car?"

"No. Different cars. Sedans. Dark grey. Arizona plates."

He looked at his notes. One of the plates came up as belonging to a rental agency. "Have you seen the drivers? Do they go into the house?"

"I did not get a good look at them. They go into the house. One is Native American."

"If you didn't get a good look -?"

"Good enough that I could tell. His hair was long, pulled into a ponytail."

"You're sure he was Native?"

"Yes."

He scribbled. "The others?"

"There is one man who – he is tall. Distinguished. Wears a suit. He came two nights."

"Do you think a crime is being committed?"

"I don't know!"

"How long do the men usually stay?"

"The man with the suit stays longest. Three hours?"

He nodded. "I agree it seems an odd time to be entertaining but it could also be business. Ms. Mueller is a financial analyst. They could be clients."

"In the middle of the night?"

His gut twisted at the thought of the type of client who showed up at a single woman's house in the middle of the night. Still. "I will have a talk with Ms. Mueller, tell her the neighbors are concerned."

"She will hate me."

"She will not hate you." _She'll just think you're a paranoid nosy old lady._ "I will explain the situation with the previous owner. I will also point out that it's nice to live where people look out for each other." He wrote the case number on a business card, slid it across the table. "This is the file number. Feel free to call me if you have any questions. If you have any concerns, call the station and we'll send someone out."

"Thank you for coming, Officer."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye's heart skipped a beat when she saw the car parked beneath the lone streetlight. It had been several days since she'd seen Kirk. As she'd never gotten around to answering his questions, she'd assumed he wasn't interested in pursuing a relationship.

" _My phone number's on it."_

Pride had kept her from calling him to confirm. Well, that and the fact she'd been working pretty much nonstop, day and night.

" _Krissoff? What -? You're in the country?"_

" _I was concerned after our phone call. I wanted to see if everything was alright, how the move was coming along."_

" _You flew in from South Africa for that?"_

" _I have business in New Mexico."_

She hadn't been surprised when he handed her a thumb drive.

" _Will you take a look?"_

" _Sure, Krissoff. No problem."_

She was technically on what the company called a sabbatical. That didn't mean she wasn't working. It was complicated. To that end...

" _I have someone I would like you to meet. May I bring him by?"_

Pulling into the driveway she fought the urge to look in the rearview mirror to see if it was Kirk behind the wheel. It could be anyone from the precinct. She actually hoped it wasn't the man whose touch left her so hungry she'd lost months of sleep. She was so not in the mood for the game of cat and mouse he was playing to salve his wounded ego.

She was inserting the key in the front door when she heard a car door slam. She dropped her head. _Please be a different cop._ She'd rather deal with trouble than -. The thought was cut short by a roll of thunder. _Oh, no. Please. Not now._

"Skylar?"

More thunder, closer. _God._ She turned. "Hey, Kirk." She barely stopped herself from saying something snarky, such as _long time no see._

"You gotta minute?"

The tone – the serious expression. Something was wrong.

"Yeah, sure. Come on in."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Standing in the porch light, Kirk noted dark circles, the forced smile. This was a woman who hadn't slept. He watched her look past his shoulder to the house across the street before going inside. He had to admit, in spite of the fact it was official police business, he was tempted to come back another time. No crime had been committed. No evidence of a crime. "When was the last time you slept?"

Skye whirled. She had absolutely no tolerance for bullshit. "What do you want?"

"I happen to be here on official police business, Skylar."

"No," she retorted, pointing toward the ranch house across the road. "You're here on official nosy neighbor business. Jesus, Kirk, this is what you do for a living? Barney Fife?"

"Hey."

"Hey, nothing. What do you want? I know damn well that paranoid old goat across the road has nothing better to do than watch her neighbors. Obviously, she's been calling the precinct to complain about the new kid in town."

Kirk frowned. How the hell -? How did she know -?

Skye wanted to kick herself. Goddamnit! "You need to go."

"No," he countered in full cop mode, "I don't. This is serious, Skye. Do you want me to haul your ass down to the station to answer some very pointed questions?"

"About what? I've done nothing wrong! Oh, no, let me guess. I had the audacity to buy a house off the auction block with the intent to rehab it into something nice. Yeah," she spat, "that's a real crime." She stomped away, back. "I was prepared to answer you before you ran your cowardly ass out of my house the other night!"

Kirk decided to send his father a bottle of the finest bourbon for teaching him the basics. It was those basics that kept him from pointing out that the beautiful woman before him was the epitome of the pot calling the kettle black when it came to running out. Instead. "Answer about what?"

"Why I bought this house!" she shouted. "Goddamnit, Kirk, will you ask your fucking questions then get out of my house?"

In that moment he knew. Skye – a woman who'd writhed beneath him, begged him to go deeper - was in trouble. He stepped close. "Skye -."

"No!" she shouted.

"Hey!" he shouted back. Thunder rattled the house and the entryway lit briefly as lightning flashed.

"Kirk, please," she implored as she prayed for patience, " _please_ ask me what the hell you want. You know what? Maybe we _should_ go to the precinct."

"No."'

When her head dropped, he pulled her against his chest. "Skye, are you in trouble?"

Not bothering to look up from where she had her forehead against his chest, she answered. "If you count biting off more than you can chew in terms of a fixer upper as trouble, then yeah, I think I am. If you're asking if I'm a drug dealer like the guy who lived here before? No."

Ignoring the fact she'd wrapped her arms around his waist – he was in uniform after all – and that his dick was responding - Kirk reminded himself he was an officer of the peace and had a duty to the taxpayers of Tucson. "Can I have a beer?"

"What?"

"Yeah, I know I'm on the clock – officially. But this – you. I'll clock out if you'll -."

"Okay, but you have to go to the back porch."

"Huh? Why?"

"The tile in the kitchen – the spacers are still in. You can't go in there. I have a mini fridge on the back porch. There's a – well, you'll see."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

When he opened the door to the mini fridge, he laughed. Talk about a college freshman's wet dream. The thing was filled with beer. "Um, eggs? Milk?"

"McDonald's?" she shot back as she reached past him to grab a beer.

"How long has it been like this?"

Skye dropped into a chair, did her best to ignore lightning that streaked across a Monsoon sky. She sipped. "Like what?"

"You're living in a rubble pile."

"No. I mean, some of it is, but it isn't that bad."

"You can't walk through the house!"

"It's on the mend," she protested. That she had to go through the porch and around the backyard to get to her bedroom was temporary. She took a long swallow of lager. "What does the old bat across the way want and why does she hate me?"

"She doesn't hate you. She just wants to know she doesn't have _Scarface_ the sequel living across the road."

"Kirk -."

"She says there are cars coming and going at all hours of the night."

"Um, no."

"She's lying?"

"No, she's just -. Fuck, Kirk, you know what -?"

"Just answer the question, will you?"

"You haven't asked one yet."

Kirk typed in a text to the duty officer, got up and went for another beer. "You know about the previous owner?"

"I think I'm going to call my boss and have him patch my lawyer through from South Africa."

"You have a lawyer in South Africa?"

"He's the company attorney but you're pissing me off with your -."

"Stop."

Lightning danced across the distant sky and she spared a moment to wonder how they'd gone from the floor of a limo to this. Thunder sounded – closer. She sighed. God, she had no energy for this. "Ask your fucking question, okay?"

"Why did -?" The only thing that kept him from blurting what he really wanted to know – why had she left without saying goodbye – was the fucking bottle between his lips. He took a long swallow and prayed for patience.

Skye grabbed a second beer, dropped into the chair. "Krissoff flew in from South Africa."

"The suit?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"He wanted to -." That she'd been about to admit he'd been worried about her and wanted to check and see if she was okay told her just how tired she was. "He asked me to look at a file."

"I thought you were on sabbatical."

"A word that has different meanings in different companies, believe me." Not to mention, different cultures.

# CHAPTER FIVE

Not wanting to get drawn down a rat hole and needing to get the goddamn case closed, he asked, "So your boss has been in town? From South Africa?" That would definitely explain the odd hours.

"Yes."

"Thank you."

"She -."

"Yes, your neighbor across the street called," he confirmed, pulling the beer from her hand and setting it on the ground. He took her hand. "But be glad she cares. She is a widow and yeah, she's got time on her hands, but she also spent the last seven years of her life living across from a drug dealer. Had her windows shot up a time or two. And," he said leaning close, "she's afraid you will hate her for this."

"She -?"

"She's not bad, okay? Nosy? Yes, but for good reason. She likes the idea of you living here." He didn't bother to explain that was because he had been a somewhat regular visitor as a result.

"It's going to work out but you -." He pulled her to her feet. "- look as if you're about two seconds from falling asleep. Let me help you -."

"I can't get to my bedroom," she protested.

He laughed at the morose tone. "What, you've been sleeping out here?"

_Sometimes_. "No. It's just -. The kitchen tile. I need to wait. I – I have to go out the back door and walk across -."

He shook his head. Skye Mueller was like Monsoon Season, a storm of its own device. "Okay, do you need me to lock up?"

"I -."

"I can let myself out. Do you want me to lock up?"

"Please."

"If I leave you here, will you wait? I want to go talk to Mrs. Garcia, let her know everything's cool but I'll come back."

"Garcia? Fuck, was it her kid -?"

"No. No relation. Will you wait while I go reassure her she won't see your face on _America's_ _Most_ _Wanted_?"

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk's Residence

Kirk rested his forehead against the steering wheel. Who had a lawyer in South Africa? Or a sabbatical that wasn't one? He blew out a breath. He wasn't sure if he was ready for the answer. He liked to think Skye had been on the level with him about the situation, but his gut told him there was more going on. She was in trouble. He would bet on it.

"Damn it!" he snapped then got out of the car. Not ready for a grilling from his landlady, he went around to the stairs leading up to the apartment.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

"Damn it!" Kirk swore as he sat up. He pushed a hand through his hair, looked at the clock. "Jesus," he hissed then swung his legs out of bed. Pulling on sweats, he pushed bare feet into tennis shoes, grabbed his cell phone, then went outside. No use risking waking the landlady.

"Kirk? That you? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"It's four in the morning! Why are you up?"

He smiled. His dad always cut to the chase. "I'm fine, dad. I just need some information."

"You on a stakeout?"

_Not yet._ "No. Just – I have a case on my mind."

"Alright, let me get downstairs to my office. I don't want to wake your mother. Oh, wait. She says to tell you she's awake and wants to know what's wrong."

"Put her on."

"Fine, fine."

"Kirk?"

"Hey mom, sorry I woke you." It may be four where _he_ was, but it was seven at his parents' place. That, at least, made him feel slightly less guilty. Well, that and the fact his parents tended to get up that early to run errands before it got too hot.

"I was ready to get up anyway," she answered with a yawn, and he could tell she was padding around the bedroom. He smiled, picturing her pulling drawers open as she searched for the perfect outfit. "Are you on a stakeout? Is that why you're up in the middle of the night? Or are you on the graveyard shift?"

"No. I'm working a case that dad might have some insight into."

"Oh, well, that sounds mysterious. It isn't dangerous is it?"

"Nah. Just one of those irritants that keeps you up at night." Just as she had in the months after blowing into then out of his life like the storms that swept through Arizona summers.

"Well, here's your dad. Good luck."

He heard her kiss his dad's cheek and promise to bring him a cup of coffee. God, he loved that his parents were so in love. After all these years and a life spent married to a spy -. He shook his head. He was lucky.

"Okay, what's the problem? What's happened?"

_Skye's happened_. "When someone takes a sabbatical, what does it mean?" Appreciating that he and his dad didn't waste time on inane chitchat, he waited for a response.

"Depends on the industry."

"Financial analyst."

"Woman or man?"

"Why does that matter?"

"Because a man is more likely to buy a Lamborghini and move somewhere he can drive it than take a sabbatical."

Kirk stared up at the night sky and wondered what possessed him to call his dad.

"I guess I can conclude from your silence it's a woman."

More silence.

"Hm, must be some -."

"Stop."

He chuckled. "Okay, I won't ride you. This time. So," he said letting out a long breath, "a sabbatical. It could mean a lot of things."

"If it's paired with a move across the country to an environment that is pretty much opposite to the one in which she'd been living?"

"One of two things. Well, three, though I doubt the third situation applies to your lady friend."

"She isn't my lady friend."

"Right. Setting that whopper aside for the moment let's look at the likely possibilities."

"I'm listening."

"She's a nerd who's overworked."

Nerds didn't screw guys' brains out on the floor of a limo on the DC Beltway. "I wouldn't call her a nerd," he managed.

"She's smart and got burned out. That she moved to a completely different environment suggests she knows her worth and is confident enough to throw it all out and start over somewhere new."

That definitely sounded like something the beautiful impetuous redhead would do, though she hadn't thrown it _all_ out. She worked at the same company. "The third option?"

"She's running."

"I don't think so."

"What makes you so certain?"

"She's with the same company. She even has the same boss."

"As when?"

Kirk groaned silently.

Stan Walker chuckled. "Okay, I can see this is a sensitive situation to you." Which told him more than he suspected his son would be comfortable with.

No comment.

"I love your mother."

A hiss.

"Got it. Want to send me some info? I'll do a little checking around, get back to you."

"I'm not sure -."

"Okay, now it's time for you to stop. And listen to your old man."

"I'm listening." It's why he'd called.

"First, thank you for your trust. It's well placed. Secondly, I've been where you are."

"How'd it turn out?"

"Look in the mirror."

Kirk grinned. "I -."

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"That you called tells me how deep you're in it. But I also know this. I can count on one hand the number of women you've been semi-serious about."

Semi-serious?"

"I don't count high school back seats."

Sometimes it sucked having a spy for a father.

"Secondly, you're good."

"What does that mean?"

"Why the hell do you think I wanted you to take over my business?"

Providing security to those who had to claim they didn't need security to their friends and neighbors. Sometimes family, even.

"You can trust your instincts. What's bothering you about her?"

What could he say? _She walked out on me after the most incredible one-night stand I ever had_? Something told him his dad would understand. "I don't know how to explain."

"What's her name?"

"Skylar Mueller. She's an analyst at some company called Ptroteron." He spelled it out. "The _t_ is silent."

His dad chuckled. "I can see why you're suspicious."

"Huh?"

You got a thesaurus?"

"I'm talking to you on it. It's called the Internet."

"Ha ha," Stan said as he typed. "You look it up but the spelling's different. There's no _t_ after the _p_." He stared at the monitor on his desk. "Says here it's a thinktank." He brought up a new tab, typed in his credentials.

"That's what she told me."

"Okay. I'll do a little digging and -." He frowned. "Kirk?"

"Yeah?"

"Is this -? Did you meet her in DC?"

He blew out a breath. "If I did?"

"Okay. I'll get back to you."

"Wait, what -?"

"I said I'll get back to you. Anything else? Here, say goodbye to your mother."

Kirk stared at the phone while he waited for his mom to get on the line. He couldn't remember the last time his dad gave him a brush-off like that. He'd heard the keys clicking so he knew his dad was tapping his dubious sources as they talked. Had he found something out about Skye? He liked to think if he had, he would have said something. Especially if it was bad and if it wasn't? Why the brush-off?"

"Kirk? Is that you?"

"Hey, mom."

"What'd you say to your father?"

"What do you mean?"

"He just poured himself a bourbon on the rocks."

_Wonderful_.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk paced the backyard. He still hadn't gone inside. He was tempted to call his dad demand he tell him what he found out about Skye. He just couldn't believe it was good. Downing a bourbon before breakfast? Then again, he had had coffee.

Knowing there was nothing more he could do he made for the stairs. If he was lucky, he'd manage to get a couple hours' sleep before he had to go in.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk's Precinct

"Yo, Walker."

He looked over at the duty officer, a guy by the name of Turcott who was slated to retire in a few months. "Yeah?"

"Someone here to see you."

He logged out, walked over. "Yeah? Who?"

He shrugged. "Never seen him before. He's in a suit."

A suit?

"He's out front," the officer said pulling his attention from a gut that tightened. "Thanks," he mumbled then made for the lobby.

He approached the tall man in a tailored suit, extended a hand. "I understand you wanted to see me. I'm Kirkland Walker."

"Hello, Officer. Would this be a convenient time to talk? I'm Krissoff Astinas. I work with Skylar." He glanced at the duty officer, back. "I understand you have some questions?"

_Fuck._ His dad's inquiry must have set up a flag. That was not good. "Yeah, sure. Come on back. We'll find a conference room." At the door he turned. "Do you want some coffee or tea? Water?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine. I am a bit pressed for time. I have a plane to catch."

"Have a seat," he said then closed the door and took one himself. "So, you're Skye's boss."

"I am the director but yes, Skylar reports to me. May I ask what concerns you about Skylar?"

"What makes you think anything?"

"It has come to my attention that a police report was filed. Skylar's name was in it though I am unaware of any wrongdoing."

So, it may not have been his father's inquiry but the police report that tipped this guy off. Given the nature of her work it made sense. Investigating finance crimes? You'd need to have a clean record, and not just criminal. There was no doubt her own finances were under scrutiny. People with financial troubles were generally considered vulnerable to bribes and therefore, denied certain levels of clearance or career advancement. "Skylar has not been accused of any wrongdoing. That her name appears in the report is because I had to talk with her."

"About what, may I ask?"

"Have you talked with Skye about this?"

"I did not want to wake her."

He drew in a slow breath. The guy was definitely sending a message. "A neighbor was concerned about cars at the house in the middle of the night."

"I didn't realize having visitors at unique times was a crime in Tucson."

He smirked. "I'll give you a bit of context. You know that Skylar bought that house off auction?"

"Yes."

"The man who lived there before is in prison."

"For?"

"Dealing drugs and accessory to murder."

"I see. This neighbor believes Skylar is also dealing?"

"She wondered. I assured her that is not the case."

"It most certainly isn't. As for the visitors -."

"I talked with Skylar. She told me that you were in town. From South Africa."

"That's correct. I am concerned because I travel to the US three to four times a year. The jet lag means my body clock is turned around. Skylar has always been very accommodating. I hate to think she is under suspicion or will be treated poorly -."

"It won't be a problem," he cut in. "As I said, Skylar explained it to me. I explained it to the neighbor, updated the report, and closed the case."

He waited while the director scrutinized him. Obviously, he was deciding whether or not anything further needed to be said or done.

"I find it interesting that you asked Skylar to work."

"Indeed."

"Indeed," he repeated. "I understand she's on a sabbatical."

"Our definition of a sabbatical is not the same as that of the tech industry."

So Skye told him. "But you've seen that house. She's doing a lot of the work herself. Don't you worry that may be asking a bit much?"

"I appreciate your concern, Officer Walker and it's nice to know Skylar has people looking out for her. I have worked with Skylar for some time. I promise you that if she had a problem with any assignment, she would bring it straight to me." As she had when she chewed him out for not telling her the police officer leveling a challenging gaze at him lived in Tucson.

Kirk knew when he was being told to mind his own damn business, but he wasn't about to. Not when it came to this situation. He knew without a doubt Skye was in over her head. Why that was the case was a mystery, but he wasn't about to let it go.

"Do you have any other concerns? About Skylar?"

"No. I appreciate that you took the time to come in and talk with me."

"Ptroteron is a unique company. Though we are global you could say we are more like a family. We're close. We look out for each other."

"I see."

"I'm not sure you do. In fact, I get the impression you are irritated by my being here."

# CHAPTER SIX

"I've just never heard of a boss taking such an interest in an employee."

"I have an obligation to the men and women of Ptroteron. Even were I to discuss this with Skylar – which I will – I would have followed up with you."

"Why me?"

"Your name is on the report, is it not?"

The man was definitely sending a message. He'd obviously gotten a hold of the report. "You married?"

Krissoff couldn't remember a time when he'd last enjoyed such good-natured bantering. And it was good-natured. Because the man before him cared very deeply for Skylar, something he'd long suspected but was only recently able to confirm. He smiled. "I am not. I travel far too often for that to be pragmatic."

"Interesting way to put it," he said beneath his breath. "Pragmatic."

"And you, Officer Walker? Are you married?" Of course, he knew that answer.

"No."

"Divorced?"

"Nope."

"Well." He slid a business card across the table. "Feel free to put my phone number into your Contacts List. May I do likewise?"

"Sure," he answered then handed over a card.

"I feel better knowing that I have an additional resource."

"Uh-huh."

He stood. "Skylar is special though perhaps I don't need to tell you."

_Fuck._ The guy knew. About DC. Well, at least he could fall back on those basics to keep him from blushing. He stood. "She's nice. And nice people tend to be taken advantage of."

An astute observation. "As I said, she will let me know if she has any issues with her assignment. If you have no further questions, I need to be on my way."

He put out a hand. "No. Thank you for coming by. And feel free to get in touch if you have any concerns."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk's Residence

It sounded like a bomb went off. Coming straight up in bed, Kirk stared around in bewilderment. Flashes of light showed at the edge of the curtains. Seconds later, the house shook. _Skylar!_ He distinctly remembered her response to the storm in DC, a storm that was nothing compared to the one slashing rain against the windows hard enough to make him think the glass would break. "Jeez Louise," he grumbled as he pulled on jeans and a t-shirt. Grabbing keys and his wallet he jammed his feet into shoes then headed for the car.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skylar's Residence

Parking beneath the lone streetlight, Kirk looked at Skye's house. There was a light in the living room though that didn't mean anyone was awake. And yet...

He made a living trusting his instincts and his instincts told him there was no way Skylar was sleeping through this mother of a storm. He didn't want to be seen pounding on the front door – he doubted she'd gotten around to fixing the doorbell – by Mrs. Garcia who wouldn't think twice about waking his landlady to fill her in.

"Fuck," he hissed then got out of the car. Within seconds his hair was plastered to his head, his shirt to his body. "At least it isn't cold out," he grumbled as he made for the porch.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Like a caged tiger, Skye paced the porch. She was every bit as irritated as a caged tiger, too. This was supposed to be her chance to get things under control in her life. Instead, thanks to a convoluted set of circumstances, she found herself back at the center of the storm as it were. _Why_ hadn't Krissoff told her about Kirk Walker? And of all the houses she could have bought, why the hell did she have to move in across from Mrs. Kravitz? She snorted. If only the old bat knew how apt that was, she'd be calling 911. The thought had a bolt of lightning streaking across the sky.

"Yeah," she snapped, "you, too!"

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

At first, all Kirk could see were shadows. When lightning flashed, he caught sight of something white – a shirt? Guessing it was Skylar, he kept his eyes on the general area. It was Skye alright, pacing like a caged tiger. "Skye?"

"Kirk?"

_At least she didn't scream._ There'd been no good way to announce his presence he supposed, and it probably wouldn't help the situation if she was anxious about the storm. Then again, she hadn't sounded upset.

"Yeah, it's me." The outside light came on.

"Did the neighbor call _again?"_

"No."

"Then what are you doing here?" She didn't open the door.

"I was worried about you."

"Why?"

"Don't suppose you'd let me in so I can answer that?"

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk stepped into the porch. It was fortunate he'd been there and had a general idea where everything was as she hadn't turned on the light though the outside light lit up enough for him to avoid crashing into the odds and ends set near the door. Why wasn't she turning on the light? Was she telling him she expected him to explain his presence then leave or was she hiding something.? Fear? Tears?

Ignoring how uncomfortable he felt, rain and sweat plastering his shirt to his body, he spoke. "I remember how you reacted to the storm in DC."

"Is that right?" she snapped. Wind gusted and rain pounded the windows. "How did I react?"

"Skye, you were pacing in here like a caged tiger."

"Answer the damn question, Kirk! How did I react?"

"You were nervous. So nervous you seemed scared."

"I am _not_ afraid of _storms!"_ Thunder rattled the windows.

"Skye, even I would be startled by the force of this one. Hell, I was. It woke me out of a sound sleep and trust me, that just about takes an act of God to do."

"I -. Look, I -." What was she going to say? Yes, the storm woke her but not for the reason he thought. She opened her mouth, the intent to ask him to leave, when her cell phone rang. And rang.

"You gonna answer that?"

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

"Hello?" Skye said, not bothering to look at the caller ID. She knew who it was.

" _Skylar?"_

"Krissoff."

"Kinda late for him to call, isn't it?" Kirk murmured.

" _Are you alright?"_

"What do you think?" she snapped.

" _I will be right over."_

"No!"

" _But I -."_

"Officer Walker is here."

Kirk's eyebrows went up. _Officer Walker? WTF?_

" _I see."_

"Look, I know you're crunching the data -."

" _I have the satellite tasked as we speak."_

"You'll send me a copy?"

" _I will send you a map of the atmospheric disturbance centered over your house, yes."_

Centered over her house. She let out a sigh of resignation. "Great. Anything else?"

"How long has he been there?"

"About ten minutes."

"I'm asking for transparency, Skylar."

"It's fine, Krissoff." She glanced at Kirk. "He said he was worried about me."

"Because of the storm?"

"Yes."

"Very well. I'll come by tomorrow with Mr. Moon."

"That's fine." She paused. "Krissoff? I really am okay."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk waited til Skye set the phone on the table before stepping close. "He was worried about you with the storm, wasn't he?"

Skye debated the pros and cons of hedging, decided it wasn't worth it. "He knows I'm new in town."

"If you're scared of storms, why come to Tucson? Monsoon Season? Lots of lightning strikes."

"I told you, I'm not afraid of storms."

"No, huh?"

Her relationship to Mother Nature was too complex to get into. "I'm not afraid of storms," she repeated calmly, "but I do have a healthy respect for Mother Nature."

"When I showed up you were pacing like a cat. The storm keeping you up?"

"Yes."

He found it interesting she was pacing on the screened in porch rather than in the house though that could have been because the place was in a state of renovation and move-in chaos. "You're too wired to sleep, aren't you?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

_So am I_. Though he didn't envision inviting himself to stay the night he also couldn't imagine going home just yet. "Want to show me around?"

"Now?"

He grinned. "You said you would have told me why you bought the place. I'm guessing you saw it as a diamond in the rough. Good bones, all that?" He sobered. "Show me what you saw."

"Sure, why not."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye led Kirk into the living room. "I'm going to rip up the carpet," she explained, "and rip out those built-ins."

"Do you know what's under the carpet?"

"Wood. Not sure the condition it's in but it's wood."

"Looks like you'll need new hardware for the windows."

"I'm going to have them replaced. The seals are blown." She led him down the hall, turned into one of the rooms. "This is the gem."

"Why?"

"It's the only room that didn't need major work. I only had to paint."

Kirk looked around. The carpet looked relatively new, as did the blinds on the windows. There was a double bed with what looked to be new bedding and a dresser he guessed came from IKEA.

"I am going to put mirrored doors on the closet," she said as she made her way toward the room next door. "This is my office."

"What is that?"

Skye walked over to the desk. She put a hand to one of three vertical panels. "You mean this?"

"Yeah, looks like something from _2001: A Space Odyssey."_

"Good guess. It's electrostatic insulation material. It's a prototype I'm testing for someone in another division. She does work for companies that build rockets and satellite systems. Materials science kind of stuff."

He walked forward, ran a hand over the thick white panel. "Smooth."

"Yep."

"With all the electrical activity I can see why you'd want something more than just a surge protector."

_You have no idea._ "Right. So, want to see the master bedroom?"

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk itched his back, followed Skylar to a room across the hall. At the door she turned – so abruptly he about plowed into her.

"I didn't show you the guest bathroom," she said jerking a thumb toward the end of the hall, "because it's kind of a shambles and I haven't done much to deshambilize it other than rip off the cupboard doors."

"Okay."

"I plan on putting in new tile and having someone refiberglass the tub, and it needs a new toilet."

He shook his head. Either Skye was quite the visionary, or she detested the idea of a sabbatical. Why else would she be so insane as to take on a project of this magnitude? Then again, she did say her dad was a contractor. She obviously learned more than bookkeeping.

She walked to a sliding glass door. "I haven't figured out what to do with the porch. It's in good shape overall but I want to spiff it up. It isn't connected to this room, but I'd like it to be."

"Maybe put a deck between the two?"

"That might work." She was so absorbed in visualizing what it might look like she didn't notice an awkward silence descended.

Kirk knew the moment Skye became aware of him standing less than a foot away. The heat of his body combined with the humidity and the fact she didn't have the AC running made for a steamy situation – figuratively _and_ literally. _Now what?_

Skye's gaze moved from the sliding glass door to the wall beside it. The action meant her head moved the slightest bit to the right. Would Kirk see it as the invitation it was?

Kirk didn't miss the gesture. _What are you going to do next?_ Interpreting the move as an invitation he put his hands to her shoulders. When she didn't shrug him off, he turned her around. The place was too dark to get a serious read of her expression but that she wasn't shoving him away spoke volumes. She wanted him to lead this time. His eyes dropped to where her collar bone was visible through the white button-down sleep shirt. He definitely wanted to see more so he set to work unbuttoning the cotton shirt before sliding it off her shoulders. He put his mouth to her collarbone, breathed in the warmth, the smell of her. _Skye._

He ran his tongue over her collar, lightly bit her shoulder, smiling when she shivered. He drew his hands down her back, rested them on her buttocks, noted her underwear was thin enough it was as if she wasn't wearing any. When he moved closer, she gasped – in distress if he wasn't mistaken. He stepped back, frowned.

"Your shirt – it's – um."

He made quick work of the shirt, peeled off wet pants, then guided her to the bed. He was in the process of moving over her when a nasty thought occurred. "Um, Skye? You don't happen to have -?"

"No," Skye answered. "Kirk, it's been -." She grimaced. What an awkward thing to admit. "It's been a long time. Since I needed one," she said working to keep her eyes on his. It was awkward to the point of embarrassing, but she _was_ a grownup. Or so she told herself.

While the thought pleased him, it was damn inconvenient at the moment. He pushed a hand through his hair. "I didn't think -. I wasn't planning -. I just – I was worried about you."

She smiled at the way he stumbled over himself. At the end of the day, Kirkland Walker was a man with manners. "Well," she said with a gusty sigh, "there _are_ alternatives." She put her hands to his waist, her lips to his.

Kirk moved so that he was lying on his side facing her, put a hand to her thigh. "Ladies first."

"No."

"No?"

"If I go off, I'll be too sleepy."

He laughed.

"I'm serious." She turned to face him, reached a hand into his boxers. "Let me."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Krissoff smiled sympathetically at the bleary-eyed woman backing up to let him in. "Did I wake you?" he politely inquired. "I did wait as long as I was able, but I need to catch a flight to Santa Fe."

"It's fine," Skye mumbled then led him toward the back porch. "I checked out that file."

"Wait. Before we get to that, I wanted you to know I went by the police station."

"Why?"

"I wanted to have a word with Kirkland Walker."

Skye gaped. "You went to talk to him about me? Why on earth would you do that?"

"Skylar, I received a call that your name appeared in a police report. You know our transparency policy. I cannot close our case file until I did my own investigation. Which includes hearing your side of the story."

Skye quickly filled him in. "I assume that matches what he told you?"

"It does."

She nodded, satisfied. "So, the file."

"Yes?"

"You gave me a dead end."

He waited.

She handed him the thumb drive. "Honolulu."

"Skylar, you are a true wonder."

# CHAPTER SEVEN

"You won't have an easy time of it. Technically, the case was closed by the federal government."

"I understand. And thank you. I assume if I have any questions I can call?"

"Of course."

"Before I go. How are the sessions with Mr. Moon?"

Skye blew out a long breath. "I don't know, Krissoff. I -. I don't know. I'm afraid -."

"Yes?"

"I don't know if this is the right path to travel down."

"Has something happened with Mr. Moon?" The man had been by to follow up after the violent storm.

"No! He's wonderful!" Too wonderful. The Native American Shaman was intelligent, kind, had a great sense of humor.

"What's the problem?"

The problem? He was pulling her in, that was the problem. "I'm afraid I'm going to hurt him."

"I don't understand."

"I think -." She sighed. "Krissoff, you've seen what happens when -."

"Are you attracted to Mr. Moon?"

"He has a lot of charisma."

"So the answer is yes."

"It isn't -. Let's just say that in my current state" – a state worsened by the less than physically satisfactory experience with the good-looking police officer – "I think it might be dangerous for me to be around him." Oh, Kirk's fingers had done all the right things but in the end she'd ended up more frustrated than if they'd done nothing at all. God, she'd wanted to have sex. Hot, passionate sex. Instead, she'd had to smile and wave goodbye.

" _I'll stop by the drugstore today."_

The promise had done little to address the painful throbbing need for him, a need intensified by the fact she knew how good it felt to fuck him, how satisfying.

"Have you spoken to him about your concerns?"

_Him?_ Kirk was very aware of where she stood on the matter. When she saw Krissoff's perplexed expression, she realized she'd tuned out of the present moment. Heat flooded her face at the thought he might know why.

"Mr. Moon?" he prompted. "Have you spoken to him of your concerns?"

_Oh_. "Yes. He told me he will take precautions."

"But you're still worried."

"I have my concerns." Especially after Moon's most recent visit. Still in pain driven by physical need, her entire system had reacted and damn if the shaman hadn't been very aware of it - and the why of it. It was the nature of the beast, apparently. And unfortunately.

"What do you suggest?"

"Well, he's come up with a suggestion." She'd just gotten off the phone with him.

"I'd love to hear it."

She nodded. It was just so difficult to discuss. What helped was knowing he truly cared about her and wanted to help. "He thinks the intensity of recent events is due to unusual and extenuating circumstances. "

"How strong a response, may I ask?"

She knew he wasn't referring to the storm or the fact Kirk had been at her house. That her energy was still off kilter? Obviously, there'd been no DC repeat. "Fortunately for the both of us, he was prepared."

" _Why don't we try something, see if we can't neutralize things a bit."_

He'd gone to the kitchen, grabbed the saltshaker.

" _Take a cool shower and scrub yourself head to toe with the salt."_

Fortunately, it worked.

"So, nothing happened?"

"I have self-control, Krissoff."

"I'm not talking about between you and Mr. Moon. I meant atmospherically."

"Rain and wind but no lightning."

"Do you believe that is the result of your actions, or those of Mr. Moon?"

"Coordinated effort, I think."

He nodded. "It's good that he was able to experience the situation first-hand. His suggestion?"

He thinks it's a good idea if we take a break until things settle down for me."

"Did he list the circumstances he believes are an antagonizing factor?"

"The recent move. That the house is in a state of chaos. He said the work I'm doing to renovate woke the spirits. He wants me to allow him to do a cleansing. I agreed. He also said the fact it's Monsoon season works both for and against us so we should take it into consideration when determining when it would be appropriate to start up again."

"Did he mention your direct line of work? The analysis work you do?"

"He doesn't think it's a problem."

"No?"

"He questioned me very carefully about what I do, and he said he believes that side of the work is grounding me. He wanted me to tell you that."

In other words, Krissoff thought, continue to give her projects. He nodded. He'd had the same suspicions which was why he'd brought the file for her to look at. "When is he going to perform the house cleansing?"

"Tonight. He's bringing a couple of folks. They're going to do the property as well."

Krissoff frowned thoughtfully. "Officer Walker should be made aware."

Skye closed her eyes. Though she knew it was the right thing to do she couldn't help feeling a sense of disappointment if not dread. "Krissoff, he's going to ask questions I can't answer."

"I will be happy to -."

"No. If – I can't sic you on him like you're my dad or my boyfriend or something. And believe me, he'll think you are. My boyfriend, I mean."

"He already does."

She hissed in frustration. "How do you know?"

"I got the impression he feels my coming to him was out of a sense of protectiveness that has roots in romantic feelings. I did what I could to dissuade him but I'm afraid I was unsuccessful. However, since it seems to make you so uncomfortable, I will leave it up to you how you handle any inquiries from him. If you need help, you know how to get in touch."

"I do."

He stood. "I'm anxious to hear how it goes this evening with Mr. Moon. Don't worry about Mrs. Garcia. I have a feeling Mr. Walker will make sure she doesn't become a nuisance."

"I should probably go over there," she grumbled, "introduce myself."

"Might I suggest -?"

"Yes?" she said with a sigh of resignation.

"I hope you take this as it's meant. It might be worth waiting until you've had some sleep and are looking a bit less – disheveled."

She laughed. "I think you're right, Krissoff. If I go over there looking like this there's no way she won't believe I'm not the sequel."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk's Precinct

"Kirk hung up the phone, dropped his head in his hands. "Fuck."

"Awwwww," Andrea drawled, "Kirk said a bad word."

"Gonna wash his mouth out with soap?" Clawson asked. "That's something I'd like to see. Anyway, I'm out! See ya when I see ya!"

"I don't -." He shook his head. Skylar Mueller was becoming the very epitome of the chaotic Monsoon season; one storm after another.

"What's the problem baby cheeks?"

He rubbed hands down his face, stood. "I don't -. _Why -?"_ He shook his head.

"This about that woman that bought the Garcia place?"

He glared. "What makes you think that?"

"Oh, no reason, but thanks for confirming a suspicion."

"Hey!" he snapped when she sauntered away. He chased her down which took all of two and a half steps. "Sanchez, wait."

"Yeaaaaahhh?" she replied seductively. "You want somethin'?"

"If I tried anything, that boyfriend of yours would kick my ass to Sunday."

"That's true," said said boyfriend, Officer John Thomas. Ex-marine the guy was a sharpshooter. Not to mention he was several inches taller and built like a fucking rugby player.

Andrea patted his cheek. "You got it bad, honey. Don't think nobody notices but honestly? Nobody cares."

"Bullshit," he snapped. If there was one thing he could count on, it was the value of office gossip. "What do you know?"

"Nothin' too dire, sweet -."

"Andy, give the poor guy a break, will you?" John said grabbing her up and placing a smacking kiss on her mouth. "Can't you see the poor guy's got it bad?" He turned, slapped a hand on his shoulder just a little too hard. "Seriously, what's wrong at the Garcia place?"

"Can we at least call it the Mueller place now? When I hear Garcia place I think of the nosy lady across the street."

"Yeah, okay, what's that pretty redhead getting into now?"

Kirk shook his head. "She's having some shaman dude come out and do some ceremonial dance on her fuckin' front lawn."

"No shit?"

"No shit. I have to get my ass out to Mrs. Garcia to tell her _not_ to call 911 when it happens."

"Any idea when this wonderful event will take place?" he asked looking a little too interested for Kirk's peace of mind.

"Don't get any fuckin' ideas, Thomas. I was told if an audience shows up? The whole damn thing is spoiled and a lawsuit will be filed against us by a corporation with more money than Fort Knox."

"Fort Knox is so yesterday," another officer quipped. "It's Bitcoin these days."

"Tell that to the gold merchants," Andrea shot back. "I'd take a bar or two. Have you ever tried to lift one of those babies?"

"When the hell did you ever get your hands on a bar of gold?"

"Go to the Mint in Philly," she shot back.

"Back to police business," Kirk cut in. "I need to go cut Garcia off at the pass. And," he said drawing it out, "it was requested that I stay and park my car beneath the streetlight, so all the neighbors can see there is an officer of the peace on the premises."

" _An officer of the peace?"_

He shrugged. "The guy's from South Africa."

"Hey, Walker," Turcott called. "That the guy who was here to see you earlier?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I couldn't place the accent. What'd he want, by the way?"

"Directions to the Alamo," he said darkly.

Beside him Andrea snorted. "Yeah, I'll just bet that's what he wanted."

"What time is this hoopla?"

"After the moon sets."

"Huh?"

"That's what he told me. I had to look it up. Tonight, the moon will set at two thirty-three am."

"You're off shift," John pointed out. "You want to swap with whoever's on duty?"

He shook his head. "Mr. Astinas specifically asked that we not do that." When Andrea grinned, he shook his head. "He doesn't want trouble from Mrs. Garcia. Since I seem to have a rapport with the woman, he prefers we not introduce any factors that might cause issues and bring about unfortunate consequences – aka – a hefty fucking lawsuit."

"Since you seem to have a rapport?" John taunted in a singsong tone. "Bet you're wishin Clawson went in your place the first time you went to the _Mueller_ place."

"Fuck you, Thomas. Fuck you."

The sharp shooter laughed, slapped him again, then went toward the break room.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skylar opened the door. "Hey, Kirk."

"Hey, yourself." When she backed up, he shook his head. "I'm not staying." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I just wanted to let you know I talked with Mrs. Garcia about tonight. There won't be a problem."

Her mouth dropped open. "How did you -? Krissoff called you?"

She seemed genuinely distressed by the prospect. "He did. He also _suggested_ I come and park my car beneath the streetlight."

"He did?"

"He thought it would preempt any neighbors from calling about the situation." He decided not to tell her about the threat of litigation.

"So, you're going to be here when Moon does his thing?"

"I am," he replied making a mental note to look into the guy. "But right now, I'm going home to eat and get some sleep. I'll be back around two."

"I'm sorry," she said softly. A cop, he was probably used to odd hours, but to go to sleep only to turn around -.

"Are you?"

She inhaled. For many moments she stared. Finally, "Yes, I am. Very."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk split his attention between the house across the street and the data scrolling across the screen of the patrol computer. It wasn't enough to keep his mind from drifting back to Skye's apology. There'd been no need to clarify. She was sorry for walking out without talking to him. Very sorry. Which meant the ball was in his court as far as next moves. He knew where he wanted it to go but, the situation was complicated. A sabbatical that wasn't? - he still hadn't heard back from his dad. A shaman doing some sort of ceremony? He was starting to think that for all they'd shared he didn't know her. And he needed to if he was going to pick up where they left off.

When they'd met in DC, he'd been working for a different public service organization as a profiler. It was his job to read people.

If he honest about it, Skye had thrown him from the beginning. He'd easily read the desire though he hadn't been prepared for her throwing herself at him in the limo like that.

" _Why wait?"_

He'd weighed the advisability of complying even as his dick was telling him everything was a go.

His attention was drawn away from his musings by the appearance of a dark grey sedan. Several men dressed appropriately for a Native American cleansing ceremony got out.

" _I appreciate that you're here, but will you please stay in the car? This is a delicate situation."_

Yeah, that was the truth. At least he'd cut Mrs. Garcia off at the pass, albeit not without great effort.

" _No, you cannot come out and watch. I'm sorry, Mrs. Garcia, but if you do? I'm going to have to take you to the station."_

At least she'd only be watching from the kitchen window. "Probably has binoculars," he grumbled, then scribbled notes. He glanced at the house. Something told him it was going to be a long night.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye had no idea what she'd been expecting but the five individuals who stepped inside could only be described as extraordinary. Wearing various adornments, including beads, bells, and other decorations that made noise, they were nothing short of magnificent. And beautiful. Every one of them. They weren't smiling which made her nervous. Yes, she knew this was serious business, but their somber expressions spoke to the darkness she associated with her condition. _Please, let this work._

She thanked each man and woman personally before requesting a moment of Moon's time.

"It's going to be fine, Skye."

"No. I want – I want to thank you. I -. It means a lot to me that you're -."

"Are you kidding?" Steve Moon interrupted, wanting to put the pretty woman at ease. It was obvious she was scared, which was why his crew wasn't smiling, like they normally would. They wanted to give her every confidence that they knew what they were doing. "This is a shaman's dream!" he gushed. " _You're_ a shaman's dream!"

# CHAPTER EIGHT

Skye smiled at the thirty-seven-year-old. Yes, he was young, but he'd apparently satisfied the elders of his tribe that he was capable of being a spiritual leader. She believed in him.

"I mean it, Skye. I love my people, but I can't tell you how many times I've been called out to deal with something they could have dealt with themselves. This? An honest-to-god _Rainmaker_? Talk about Big Time!"

"Big Time?" she echoed faintly.

Moon put his hands on the woman's shoulders. "I promise you there are no thrill seekers here."

"I trust you."

"You can." He glanced around the chaos, noted the small improvements made since his previous visit. Pictures and throw rugs did wonders. "Okay, we'll start in here then move it outside. Shawna, you got the incense? Good. Joel, bring the drum. Let's go."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk watched the group of men and women gathered on Skye's front lawn with interest. They weren't talking so much as coordinating – with body language and hand signals. Without skipping a beat each one went off in a different direction, eventually disappearing around the sides of the house. When lightning flashed, he frowned. A thunderstorm would certainly put a dent in things. Would they have to stop, he wondered. He snorted as he pictured Krissoff suing Mother Nature for the audacity. He scribbled the comment on his notepad, put a smiley face on it, then checked the computer monitor. "Must be a full moon," he muttered. "All the crazies are out."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye watched the approaching storm clouds with a sense of dread.

" _Will you relax? I checked the weather."_

She'd tried to explain that her _condition_ would trump any forecast. A shadow appeared at the edge of her property. It was Moon. She'd told him – told herself – she trusted him. As she watched him reach his arms to the sky, she told herself he'd done the same before, and not just once. Obviously, he would have spent hours not just practicing but continuing to learn. No doubt everyone on his team did.

" _Patience, Skye."_

Patience? She knew all about patience. She, too, had spent years upon years studying, practicing. For all the good it did. When thunder rolled across the sky, she shuddered, and began to pray.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Because he was watching the storm clouds – he couldn't see the dancers who'd disappeared around the house – Kirk could see how dangerous the situation was becoming. Hell, he felt it. With the window down to let fresh air into the car he'd felt the change. Not just the temperature which dropped suddenly, but the feel of it. It was – angry.

He got out of the car, started across the road. With no trees anywhere close to the house, the men and women would be lightning rods. Especially if those shiny objects he'd seen on their clothing had any metal in them. He spoke into the radio at his shoulder. "Chris?"

"I'm here. What's up, Walker?"

"I may have a situation out here."

"What's the problem?"

"I have a group of Natives dancing beneath a lightning storm. Wearing metal," he added. "Send an ambulance, okay? Have it on standby."

"I -."

"I'll authorize it." Something told him Krissoff wouldn't haggle over reimbursing the department.

"Roger that. Dispatching."

"Thanks," he replied then stepped around the side of the house. Regardless of what Skye asked or what Krissoff threatened, he needed to warn these guys. He recalled his father telling him the only thing more important than the basics was listening to his gut and what his was telling him was scary as hell. When a clap of thunder left his ears ringing, he started to run. When lightning zipped across the sky, he made a flying leap, taking the lone figure dancing at the edge of the property to the ground.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye whimpered as a thunderous explosion left her ears ringing. When she caught sight of a shadow running toward the shaman dancing at the edge of her property - just as lightning struck - she screamed.

"No," she whined reaching for her cell phone. When someone snatched it from her grasp, she screamed again. "Krissoff!".

"The ambulance is on its way. See to your man."

"But -."

Eyes seemed to glow in the dark. "I said see to your man, Skylar. I'll be right behind you so I can take care of Mr. Moon."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye stumbled, slid to her knees beside the two unconscious men. Seeing that Krissoff was taking care of the Native American, she moved over Kirk, who, apparently having anticipated the lightning strike, had tackled him. The move likely saved Steve's life though it hadn't prevented the two from being treated to Mother Nature's wrath.

"Kirk, can you hear me? It's Skylar." Though her ears were still ringing she heard a car door slam.

"It's the ambulance," Krissoff explained. "See to your man, Skylar. You know what to do."

Nodding, she reached for Kirk's hand. He was shivering. _At least it wasn't a direct hit._ This time.

"Work quickly."

The command spurred her to action. Closing her eyes, she inhaled, pulled the electrical charge into her body.

Ignoring Skylar's cry of pain, Krissoff worked to stabilize the man who'd come highly recommended despite his youth. He was aware that the other dancers would see with their spiritual eyes but as time was of the essence, he did nothing to shield them from the reality of what he was. By the time the paramedics were close he was finished. He stood, pulled Skylar out of the way. "Let them do their work," he instructed. "And be at peace, Skylar." He drew her close, leaned in. "You did well. He will live."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye sat on a hard plastic chair set against the wall and stared at the tile floor. It had been over thirty minutes since anyone had come to talk with them.

"It's going to be alright," Krissoff assured.

Not bothering to comment, she continued to stare at the floor, though she did shake her head slowly from side to side.

"Mr. Astinas?"

Krissoff stood, drew Skylar to her feet. "Yes?"

"Will you come with me, please?"

Guiding his hollow-eyed friend, he followed the nurse through a set of double doors. "This is Dr. Calloway."

"You're here for the lightning victims?"

"Victims?" Skylar repeated, her voice wavering.

"I simply meant the two men who were struck," he quickly clarified.

"In my backyard," she managed.

"They are both incredibly lucky. They're going to be okay. Did you see what happened?"

"I did," Krissoff answered. "They were not struck directly. Thanks to the officer's quick thinking."

The doctor nodded. "They don't have any cardio damage and only minor burns though there is some soft tissue swelling." He shook his head. "Damn foolish thing to do, dancing in a field in a lightning storm."

"The forecast called for clear skies," Krissoff explained, "and the storm came up rather suddenly."

"This is Tucson," the doctor responded. "We get six hundred thousand lightning strikes a year. Not to mention, it's Monsoon Season." He shook his head again. "It's a miracle they weren't killed."

"Are they awake?" Skylar asked. "When can we see them?"

"They're being moved to a room. We're putting them together. We're a bit full at the moment so they're in the burn unit though they are at the far end since they don't qualify."

"I understand," Krissoff said. "When will it be possible to see them, do you think?"

"They've been sedated so neither man is conscious." The doctor looked at his watch. "My best suggestion? Go get some sleep and come back in the morning. Neither is in danger of expiring. They need their rest and so do you. Come back tomorrow. Visiting hours begin at eight."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skylar's Residence

Krissoff sat on the edge of the bed. "Would you like something to help you sleep?"

Skye looked at him but rather than answering, shook her head slowly.

"He's going to be okay."

"I know."

"But you -."

"I'm fine, Krissoff."

"You have not dealt with the power draw, Skylar. You are not fine."

"What do want me to say, Krissoff?"

"You know what you need to do. Come on, I'll help you."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Ten minutes later, Skylar was standing in a t-shirt and underwear – the metal snaps in her shorts precluded that from being an option - beneath an ink black sky. Though thunder or lightning were thankfully absent, rain was falling steadily.

"Skylar."

Numb to the cold drops plastering her hair to her neck, she turned in the direction of her boss' voice.

"Do I need to walk you through the grounding exercises?"

Silence.

Krissoff stepped out of the porch, took Skylar's hands. "Do you remember the first time we did this together?"

"I do."

The answer, spoken quietly, would have been lost in the wind had he not been standing so close. "Then you know you can trust me."

"Yes," she replied in a small voice.

He hated that she was in such pain, understandable that it was. He shook her hands in an attempt to bring her out of the lethargy. "Let's do this together."

Anyone who happened to be watching would see a blue white orb with a glow that increased in intensity until there was a flash. Anyone who was awake would assume the explosive sound was an indication the storm was returning. Fortunately, for the good of them all, Mrs. Garcia was asleep in front of her television set.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Hotel

Tucson, Arizona

Skye sat up with a gasp. A glance out the window showed the sun shining in a cloudless sky.

"Easy, Skylar. All is well."

She looked over to see her boss looking at her from the other side of a laptop. "Kirk?"

"He and Mr. Moon are resting comfortably. When you've finished breakfast, we'll go to the hospital."

She let out a shuddering breath. "I don't think I could eat."

"You can. I -." He stopped speaking, went to answer the door.

"I took the liberty of ordering for you. Oatmeal with toast and juice. There's champagne for the orange juice."

"I -."

"Need the sugar. Eat. Then we'll go."

Skye sprinkled raisins into the oatmeal. "Thanks for last night, Krissoff."

He reached across the table, squeezed her hand. "You're welcome. You are not in this alone, Skye."

She nodded. "Thank you for this. The hotel."

After he'd siphoned off the electrical overload – she'd been in no condition to discharge it herself - he waited while she dressed and packed a change of clothes, then drove them to a hotel at the edge of town where he secured a suite. That they shared the space ensured they both got a good night's sleep for he would have lain awake all night worrying about her.

He squeezed her hand. "He is okay, Skylar. I spoke with the doctor this morning. And I will be covering all his medical expenses."

She nodded but couldn't bring herself to look up.

"It was dark, Skylar, and he was barely conscious. He did not see anything."

Again, she nodded, accepted the Mimosa. "This is good." She smiled. "You'd make a good bartender. A good drink accompanied by therapy."

"I remember it's your preference," he said pointing at the crystal flute.

"As opposed to a Bloody Mary" she answered with a smile.

"Just so." He held up his coffee cup. "Cheers."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

A soft cry escaped when Skye caught sight of the two men, the bandages across their eyes.

"Skye?" Moon spoke up, "is that you?"

"Yes," she managed walking over. She touched his shoulder gently. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry this happened."

"I'm fine, Skylar. Better than fine. I'm a legend."

"A legend?"

He laughed. "My homies just left. If even half of what they claim to have seen is true, I will go down in the annals of tribal history."

She squeezed his shoulder - gently. "Did – will you have to -?"

"Do it again?"

"Yeah, did that ruin it?"

"I don't think you get any bigger in terms of an endorsement from the Great Spirit when it comes to an approval rating. No, we won't need to do it again."

She kissed his cheek. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Thanks to Officer Walker."

Kirk didn't know what to think of the fact he'd sensed Skylar long before she walked through the door. He'd _felt_ her coming down the hall. He turned eyes blinded by a bandage to the bed next to his. "I told you, it's Kirk."

"Right."

"Kirk?"

He smiled. "Hey, Skye. Nice to – well, you know," he joked, frowned when he heard her voice catch. "Hey, there's no need for that. I'm okay."

A sniffle then, "I'm so glad. Thank you for what you did. I'm sorry -."

"Enough, Skye. I said I'm okay."

"Are you in pain?"

"A little."

"Your mouth?"

"Huh?"

"I was wondering if I could kiss you?"

"I didn't get a kiss on the mouth," Steve grumbled making her laugh.

"I'll wait if you want to make it fair," he offered, smiling when she laughed again.

Skye put her hand to Moon's shoulder leaned forward and kissed him long enough to make it count but quick enough that he didn't get the wrong idea.

"Thanks."

"Now you," she said quietly then put a hand to Kirk's cheek. "Is this okay?"

He put a bandaged hand over hers. "It's fine, Skye."

She leaned close, pressed her lips to his, waited to see what he wanted her to do.

Kirk opened to Skylar, kissing her as deeply as his aching body would allow.

"I don't think I got the same kiss," Moon complained.

"You didn't," he confirmed, frowning when there was a suspicious sniff. "I'm okay, Skye."

"But -."

"Hey, it's not as if you're responsible for this. Shit happens."

The silence in the room was unexpected, and unnerving. Did she think she caused -? He frowned, recalling how skittish she got whenever there was thunder. Did she -? He yawned. Damn medication!

"I'm going to let you sleep."

"Is there anything you gentleman need?"

He turned toward the door. "Krissoff?"

"Yes. I'm very happy you are both okay. I'm sorry this happened."

"I thought you were in New Mexico."

# CHAPTER NINE

"Change of plans."

"Huh."

"I don't need anything," Moon put in. "My homies got me covered."

"Your homies?" Skye queried.

Moon grinned though the effect didn't translate since his eyes were bandaged. "My crew of spiritual warriors. They were here earlier. We're good."

She kissed Kirk's lips. "I'll come by later if that's okay."

"I look forward to it," he answered, "and no, I don't need anything. No, wait. Will you call the station and talk to Andrea Sanchez? Ask her to get in touch with Mrs. Cleary, let her know I'm okay?"

"I will."

Krissoff wished the men well then escorted Skye to the elevator. They passed three police officers on their way to visit their comrade. He pressed the button. "Rather than bothering Officer Sanchez, why don't we pay a visit to Mrs. Cleary in person?"

"I think Kirk would find that a bit invasive, if not creepy. That we know where he lives."

"I'm sure you're right. We'll stop by the station then get some lunch."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Tucson Hospital

Skye was just about to leave so the men could get some rest when the door to the hospital room opened and an older couple walked in.

"Kirk? How are you doing, son?"

She hated the look on the woman's face upon seeing her son's bandaged eyes.

"Dad? How'd you -? Who -?"

"Mrs. Cleary called us," his mom said coming over to kiss him on the cheek. "I'm so glad she did. Are you in pain? The doctor said you -."

Leaving his wife to get the latest, Stan Walker turned to the pretty redhead trying to make a quiet getaway. "You don't have to leave on our account, Ms. -?"

"Skye," she answered, stepping back over and shaking his hand. "Skye Mueller."

"Stanford Walker. I'm Kirk's dad."

"Hello, Skye. I'm Janine."

"Nice to meet you," she said. "Listen, I'll leave you to visit with Kirk."

"Wait!"

She looked at the bed, waited.

"You don't have to go."

"I actually do. But I'll visit again." She patted Moon's leg, stepped into the hallway.

"Skye?"

She turned. "Yes?"

"Like Kirk said, you don't have to go," Stan insisted.

"I need to get back to the house. I have -." She blew out a breath. "I'm renovating and the longer I put it off the longer I have to wait to have a normal life."

Stan knew truth when he heard it. "It was nice to meet you. I was wondering. Would you join my wife and I for dinner?"

"I -."

"I understand that you're busy with the house, but it might do you some good to get out for something more relaxing than visiting a hospital."

"Oh, well, that's very nice of you. Um, what time -?"

"If you don't mind – we live in Georgia so there's a bit of jet lag. Can we do an earlier dinner? Say, five? Does that give you enough time to -?"

"Five works."

"Here's my phone number. "We'd be happy to pick you up."

"No, that's fine. Here, why don't I give you my number and you text me with whatever restaurant you choose. I'll meet you there."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye frowned at the starter button. "You've got to be kidding me." She pressed it again but again the engine didn't start. It didn't even try to start. It was completely dead. She dropped her head to the steering wheel. _Fuck._

"Isn't that Skylar?" Janine asked pointing.

"What's wrong?" Kirk asked, frustrated that his eyes were still bandaged.

"I think she's having car trouble," his mom answered.

"I'll go see if she needs help," Stan said at the same time Kirk asked him to.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

"I'm afraid it's more than a dead battery."

Skye nodded at the man unhooking the jumper cables. He worked for the hospital. "Thank you for trying,"

"Won't hold a charge. Could be the regulator." He shrugged. "Want me to call for a tow?"

"Skye?"

_Wonderful._ Pasting a smile on her face, she turned. "Hello, Stan." She looked at the man who'd been helping her. "I have a service but thanks. Thank you for trying."

"No problem. Good luck."

"What's the problem?"

_Me._ "The battery won't hold a charge. It's not just dead, it won't charge."

"I've seen that happen before."

"You have?"

He nodded. "After a car was struck by lightning. Your car -." He frowned. "Seems like it would have happened last night."

"Well, who knows?" Though she did.

"I'd be happy to take you to a rental place, after they tow the vehicle."

"That won't be necessary. My boss is in town. He isn't staying far from here. Go ahead and visit with Kirk and just text me with the name of the restaurant you choose."

"If you're sure."

"I'm positive. Really, Krissoff won't mind at all."

"Alright then. I'll see you later."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

"What's going on?" Kirk asked into the silence.

Stan glanced over at Moon, back down at the parking lot. "It appears her boss was able to address the problem."

"What do you mean?"

He looked at the other bed, back at the parking lot. "I don't know what he did but whatever it was, she is driving out of the parking lot."

Kirk had never been so frustrated. He needed to talk to his dad but he wasn't about to do so in front of the shaman. When something bumped his hand, he frowned, then smiled. Knowing the sentence he was scribbling was nowhere near a straight line, he nonetheless wrote what he wanted to say.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skylar's Residence

Skye smiled at Kirk's dad. "Thank you for a lovely evening. Seriously, thank you for dinner. I – I truly enjoyed myself for the first time in - a long time. I'm renovating my house and – moving to a new city? It's been hectic. You and your wife were –." She glanced into the back seat. "Thank you so much for helping take my mind off of everything."

"It was our pleasure, Skylar," he replied as his wife patted her shoulder.

"I enjoyed your company at dinner," Janine put in from the back seat. "Thank you for taking the time for us. And thank you for telling us what happened."

"I'll walk you to the door."

Just as he stepped out of the car a door across the street opened.

_Of course._ Skye closed her eyes. Knowing there was no way of avoiding the woman without causing a scene, she put on a happy face and got out of the passenger seat.

"Mrs. Garcia."

Stan gauged the tone, decided the two women either didn't like each other or didn't know each other that well. Given what he'd learned over dinner, he'd say it was the latter. Regardless, he knew enough about the situation to throw himself in with Skylar. He turned. "Hello, Mrs. Garcia, I've heard so much about you."

"You have?"

"I'm Stanford Walker, Kirk's father."

"Oh, my goodness, a wonderful man. Just wonderful. How is he? I have not known -."

It was all Skye could do not to roll her eyes. Mrs. Garcia and Mrs. Cleary were switchboard central as far as she was concerned. The nosy woman knew damn well how Kirk was doing. She knew for a fact Mrs. Cleary had been a frequent visitor to the two men and that she reported everything back to the nosy woman who was looking at Kirk's father as if he was the holy grail of information. Thank god. She was more than happy to avoid the spotlight when it came to one Kirkland Walker, police officer.

"Please tell me," the neighbor gushed. "How is Officer Walker?"

"Kirk is doing well."

As Skye listened to Stan make polite small talk she made a decision. Kirk's father was being the epitome of decorum when it came to the obnoxious woman. She would repay this kindness. She opened the back door, leaned in. "Would you like to come inside? I'd be happy to show you what I'm doing with the house. If you don't mind the paint smell."

"Are you sure?"

She smiled. "I can't imagine you aren't curious and -." She angled her head. "Consider it repayment for taking the brunt of my neighbor."

"Well, when you put it that way -."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Hotel

Tucson, AZ

"She seems like a lovely girl."

"Yes," Stan agreed as he escorted his wife into the lobby. He pointed toward the bar. "Would you mind terribly if I had a drink? I don't think I could sleep."

Janine laughed. If there was one thing her husband detested, though he was a master at it, was small talk. Dealing with Skye's neighbor after such an enjoyable evening had obviously stretched the limits of his patience. "Not only do I not mind, I'll join you."

They'd gone twenty-five feet when a tall distinguished looking man in a tailored suit approached. "Mr. and Mrs. Walker?"

"Yes?" Janine answered. Beside her, her husband tensed.

"My name is Krissoff Astinas. I work with Skylar. I was wondering if you'd care to join me for a drink?"

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Tucson Hospital

Kirk got back from physical therapy to find Steve Moon standing at the window looking out at the horizon. He allowed the orderly to help him into bed, waited for him leave. He looked back at the man who'd been a good roommate, all things considered. "They say confession's good for the soul."

The Native American turned, gave him a brief smile. "Yeah, but you're a cop. That's entrapment."

Kirk appreciated the comeback. "Seriously. It's easy enough to see you've got something on your mind." Ever since they found out they were going home. "I'll help if I can. Is it because you're going home? Is that going to be a problem for you?"

They were advised to have someone available to help out in the first few days. His parents were still in town, but he had no idea what Steve's situation was.

"No, that's no problem. My homies got it covered."

Kirk shook his head. "Homies." He gave the shaman a speculative look. "Shawna?"

Steve smirked. "No." He turned back to the window. Shawna wasn't the woman consuming his thoughts. He blew out a breath. Normally, he wouldn't consider discussing the situation with the police officer, but the man saved his life – at a pretty steep personal cost – so he felt more than a little obligated. "What about you?" he called over his shoulder. "You got someone to help you when you go home?" He knew the officer was still in a fair amount of pain though he'd been refusing any pain medication. Stubborn fool. Then again, maybe not. It was probably better to go off the stuff in an environment where they could deal with side effects than if you were alone.

"My parents are still in town."

"Ah."

Kirk could see the guy was torn between saying something and not. Why would -? "Is what's bothering you about me?" The guy stiffened. "I'd say that was a yes. Hey, look, you're making me tired watching you. Will you please get back in bed?" While he'd taken the brunt of the electrical energy, the shaman, too, had suffered. He waited til he got back in bed before speaking. "Alright, what's this about?"

"That ceremony."

"Yeah?" he said slowly.

"It was – it was one of several steps I was taking."

He waited, mentally replayed the words.

"Skye Mueller is a client. Or, more accurately, Ptroteron is a client."

"For what?" When the guy didn't say anything, he pressed. "I assume that you brought it up means there's no contract wherein you can't talk about the situation?"

"There isn't though this isn't the kind of thing you go around telling people."

"But you're telling me because it has to do with me?"

"Because your life may be in danger if I don't." He paused. "From Skye."

"What? I -. I have no reason to believe she wants to cause me any harm."

"She doesn't. That's not the issue."

"Then what is?"

"Mr. Moon," a cultured voice said from the doorway, "perhaps you would allow me? I welcome your input of course but I may be able to give context to the situation."

"Yeah, sure."

Kirk didn't miss the relieved expression, nor the way Steve closed his eyes and dropped back against the pillows. Whatever the guy was worried about was sapping his energy. He turned his attention to the man coming to stand between the two hospital beds. "Mr. Astinas."

"Krissoff."

"Okay."

"Are you familiar with the term gremlin, Officer Walker?"

"Kirk. You mean like the green things in the movies? Irish, right? Like troll, that kind of thing?"

"It's a mischievous creature that sabotaged aircraft and other machinery. The term originated with the Royal Air Force, in the twenties."

"Okay."

"There is a modern association."

_The machinists' union must love that._ "Uh-huh."

"The more modern association applies to a person, someone who has an odd effect on machinery and equipment in their vicinity."

"You mean like a coffee maker that spits coffee out at someone rather than having the liquid go into the pot?"

"That would be a classic example," he replied. "Do you know of such an incident?"

"Yeah," he answered, pointing at his chest, "me." He didn't miss the long look the two men exchanged.

"Is this a recent phenomenon?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Have you had any other incidents?"

"I don't know that I'd call them incidents, but I do seem to have bad luck with printers these days."

"Jamming?"

"Only when I use it."

Krissoff nodded solemnly. "That is exactly the type of event associated with a human gremlin."

"What does this have to do with the fact my life is apparently in danger from Skye?"

"Skye is a rather powerful gremlin."

"I see."

"I'm afraid it's no longer limited to machinery and equipment."

"What, are you saying, that she -?" He stopped talking as he recalled how nervous she became whenever there was thunder in the vicinity. In DC, he'd wondered if she was afraid of storms, to the extent he'd gone out of his way to assure her they were a normal part of hot humid summers. He took a breath, gathered his thoughts. "Are you saying Skylar has something to do with the – with what happened at the house?"

"Yes," both men confirmed.

He looked at Steve. "Was she aiming at you?" After all, he'd been in the squad car.

"Not exactly," he replied. "Look, it's complicated, okay?"

"And you believe this? You buy into this -?"

"I have every reason to believe this," Krissoff responded.

"While I don't have the history with Skylar that Krissoff does," Steve explained, "I am aware of this phenomenon."

"What phenomenon?"

# CHAPTER TEN

"People who affect the weather. We call them Rainmakers."

"I know the concept," Kirk admitted, "though I've never heard the term before."

"There are extenuating circumstances in this situation," Krissoff put in. "I suggest you stay away from Skylar for the foreseeable future. As Mr. Moon pointed out, your life would be in danger if you don't."

A dozen questions went through his mind, but he was prevented from giving voice to even one by the arrival of the doctor, informing he and Steve that they would be discharged that afternoon.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk hoped the doctor didn't realize he wasn't really listening. He was too busy trying to wrap his mind around everything Krissoff just told him. The shaman hadn't batted an eye. He tuned in long enough to thank the doctor. Waiting til they were alone, he looked over at his roommate. "And you knew this about her? That's why you were doing whatever you were doing?"

"The spirit cleansing was a small piece. I've been working with Skylar since shortly after she moved in though I recently told her I felt we should take a break until things in her life settled down."

"From what I can tell you'll be waiting an awfully long time then because chaos seems to follow that woman around."

"It does," he agreed. "The cleansing ceremony was an attempt to clear some of the obvious stress, that being the negative energy associated with buying a property that was the site of a crime."

"Do you think – will this ever be resolved?"

"That's up to Skye."

"What, you mean she's doing it on purpose?"

"Let's just say she is aware of what the problem is, what's behind it."

"Behind it," he repeated. "You mean she knows what's causing it?"

"Yes," Krissoff confirmed coming back to stand between the two of them. "While the cleansing ceremony will indeed help the situation, it will not stop it. Only Skylar can do that and only if she accepts the full truth of what's behind it."

"She doesn't think she's responsible?"

"Oh, she knows she's responsible. She just has to accept that the measures she was taking to deal with it are no longer sufficient. Like the cleansing ceremony, they were band-aids."

The measures she was taking? Kirk stared at the Ptroteron director. If he was reading the situation right, then Skylar was using -. Not ready to accept that she'd used him like that all those years ago, he spoke. "I appreciate you guys giving me the head's up. I'll – I'm probably going to do a bit of poking around on the Internet about this."

"You gotta be careful with that type of research," Steve warned. "Lots of misinformation out there and plenty of drama and exaggeration. I can recommend a book that will do a good job of explaining. It's about shamanism but it will give you great insight."

"I'd appreciate that."

"I, too, can offer you reading material," Krissoff said. "We have a division that is dedicated to this sort of thing. We have several white papers. I'll see which ones are suitable for public consumption."

"I'd welcome anything you think will help. In the meantime, I don't think you have to worry about me going near Skylar for awhile. I'm not exactly mobile."

Krissoff nodded. "I understand. I need to be going. Mr. Moon did you see that packet I sent?"

"Yes, and thank you. That was very generous."

"Officer Walker, I had the good fortune of meeting your parents last night. I left the packet with your father. He will bring it when he comes to pick you up this afternoon."

"My father?" he said faintly. "You couldn't have brought it to me?" It was a pointless exercise asking because the director had already left.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk's Residence

_The_ _packet_ was a copy of the hospital invoice, paid in full. What hadn't been covered by his insurance, that is. There was also a letter informing him that a private nurse and physical therapist had been retained for the duration of his recovery.

"I understand the same was provided to Mr. Moon," his father said taking the envelope and putting it in a drawer. "You look ready to pass out. Why don't you get some sleep? Your mom and I are going to go do a little grocery shopping for you."

"I – thanks."

His mom patted his cheek. "I know it rankles being a grownup and having your parents take care of you, but it won't be long. You're well on your way."

"And we aren't going to be invasive," Stan promised.

"Yeah, but it's going to be tempting," he shot back. They were staying in one of the main floor rooms Mrs. Cleary used for short-term rentals.

"Actually," his father said with a smile, "we're going to do a little sightseeing. That Krissoff provided you with a nurse and a therapist? We don't have to worry."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skylar's Residence

Skye dropped into a folding chair, stared out at the horizon. She would miss this view.

"Skylar?"

She looked over. "Hello, Krissoff. Come on in."

"The door's locked."

"Oh. Right." She let him in, stopped at the mini fridge. "Want a beer? I also have some wine in there."

"How about wine? You and I?"

"Sure." She waited while he opened the bottle, poured into plastic wine glasses she'd bought with the intention of enjoying wine on the porch. Accepting a glass and a cheer, she took her seat.

"I got your request," he said by way of opening.

She nodded, sipped.

"May I ask how you thought to go back through, take a second look?"

"For one thing, the location. Honolulu? Hawaiians are very protective of their land. It would be all but impossible to hide something of that magnitude and yet officially, the place doesn't exist."

"And?"

"I thought I recognized one of the names. Big money."

"There's always big money involved in your research."

She shook her head, took a sip. "This guy was different. The family had a Patti Hearst type situation, only with a son. If he's living in Hawaii? He's hiding something."

"Perhaps he simply wishes to avoid opportunistic journalists looking to resurrect the dead."

"If you're referring to someone wanting to write a book, no. The guy laid enough mines in his life to ward off pretty much anyone in that category." She smirked. "We're not in that category."

"What did you find?"

"I'm still putting the pieces together but that's why I contacted you. I want official permission to rip into this."

"You aren't afraid of those land mines?"

She shot him a look that said _how long have we worked together?_ After a few moments more, she spoke. "I can't stay, Krissoff."

No comment.

"I thought this would be ideal, moving to a place that has six hundred thousand lightning strikes a year? Good camouflage."

"Since I know the weather hasn't changed, I have to wonder why you wouldn't still consider it ideal?"

"I can't stay here knowing Kirk is here and knowing I can't get near him without risking his life." She sighed, accepted a refill. "Trouble is, the only other place close to this is Florida and I'm not up for living in Disneyland. Hell, my life is the fucking Haunted Mansion."

"You know," Krissoff said, taking a seat and staring out at the horizon, "I've always appreciated your self-deprecating humor." He looked at her. "The way you laugh at the challenges in your life."

Too bad dark humor couldn't be the outlet she needed. Life would be a whole lot simpler if it was.

"I take it you don't believe working with Mr. Moon will address the situation?"

"You know, Krissoff, I have to wonder about that."

"What, specifically, may I ask?"

"That you chose Steve Moon."

"His qualifications -."

"I did a little checking of my own," she cut in, her voice calm. "There are a number of shamen who would be qualified to work with me and yet you chose one who is not only young, but gorgeous. And single," she added, the words disappearing into the wine glass.

"I chose him because of all of those qualified, he lives in Tucson. The other characteristics you mentioned did not factor into my choice."

"But you had to know it would introduce variables guaranteed to increase the tension."

Of course, he had. He'd counted on it. "What I know, Skylar, is that you can't keep dealing with the ghosts in your life by burying yourself in your work." He stepped over, drew her up. "You are a woman whose emotions and passions run deep. In denying that part of yourself, you create the very situations that make your life difficult, if not painful."

He understood why she did. It was those very qualities that had been exploited. Rather than placing the blame where it belonged – on those who couldn't handle it, she refused to allow herself the joy of passion for life.

"Only in embracing that truth and allowing yourself the life doing so would bring, will you be able to resolve this issue. Moving will not solve your problems."

"So, you're denying my request to transfer?"

"For the moment. I'm also denying your request to look into the Honolulu situation until this other is resolved."

She hissed.

"Skylar, you cannot bury your problems beneath work."

"Krissoff, you know I don't take these things lightly. I've got a solid track record reducing incidents by focusing my energy on difficult projects, the harder the better. The Honolulu situation is perfectly suited to that fact. I can leach stress through that project and hopefully get to the point I can start working with Moon again."

"I've already assigned the Honolulu case to someone else."

She blew out a breath. "You're making things difficult for me, you know that?"

_I do._ "I have faith that you'll manage. I need to be going soon. I've put off New Mexico as long as I could, and there is a situation brewing in the Midwest. I'll be staying til the end of the week if you need me."

Satisfied, Krissoff made his way to the car.

" _You're making things difficult for me, you know that?"_

He was counting on it.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk's Residence

Kirk stared at storm clouds in the distance. A year ago, he would have chalked it up to Monsoon Season at its finest. Now?

" _We call them Rainmakers."_

He'd spent the last several days pouring over material provided by the shaman and the Ptroteron director. The idea that some individuals could affect weather dated back centuries. The scientific community considered it a form of telekinesis.

" _Hey, man, at least she isn't a pyrokinetic."_

Steve had talked to him at length about the situation when he came to pick up the book he loaned him.

" _You saved my life. I will do whatever I can to make this easier for you."_

" _Make what easier?"_

" _You care about her, that's obvious. But you can't go near her. You just can't."_

That had been the night before, a night during which he'd gotten absolutely no sleep. It was Skylar. Regardless of whether or not the men thought his life was in danger, the idea of abandoning her did not fit with who he was. He was not the kind of guy who ran at the first sign of trouble. For all those two knew, he might be able to help her. If nothing else, he could provide a listening ear. A noise had him turning.

"Hey dad."

"Your mom's finishing up the packing. She'll be up to say good-bye in a little bit."

"Mrs. Cleary talking her ear off?"

"She's been a wonderful host but yes, we're both looking forward to getting back to our quiet little nest."

Kirk rolled his eyes. That _little nest_ was a sprawling estate in the Georgia mountains. "You're anxious to get back to your golf."

"True though I've certainly enjoyed the opportunities I've had to play here."

"Krissoff?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, but don't go reading too much into that. This isn't the first time I've crossed paths with that guy."

Kirk took a seat. It was nice to know his instincts hadn't been fried by that lightning strike. He figured his dad had something to say and asked his mom to wait while he said it. Which meant it was about Skylar. "Yeah?"

"Truthfully, it's a bit of a fluke. Years back I was doing some work for the navy. New weapons technology had been stolen. Inside job. I provided them with information that led to their being able to recover the device. The guy I worked with ended up over at Ptroteron. High up, too. He called me up, asked if I wanted to come over. I told him I liked being independent."

"Which tells me they didn't make you an offer you couldn't refuse."

Stan shrugged. "Staying independent kept me from having internal doors slammed in my face because some chicken shit paper pusher decided I didn't have a need to know."

" _Ptroteron prides itself on transparency. You would have access to anything you needed to be successful."_

Kirk could picture it. He didn't mind such tactics since it gave him the opportunity to find a way around the chicken shits of the world. "Did you mention this guy to Krissoff? How is it he just happened to meet you, by the way?"

"He's staying at the same hotel."

Kirk would have thought that suspect but for the fact Krissoff had already been staying there.

"What aren't you telling me about Skylar, dad?"

Stan let out a long breath. He'd known since that phone call his son had strong feelings for the financial analyst. What he'd learned had given him pause though he'd intended to share it once he finished his research. His conversation with Krissoff at the hotel changed everything. Time was of the essence. "She's an operative."

Kirk nodded. "I was beginning to suspect as much."

"Krissoff?"

"DC. After talking to her here? When I learned who bought that house? I looked into Ptroteron. I listened to her talk about her job. I called you. That brush-off? I knew it had to be something like that else you'd have just told me whatever it was you learned. I figured you were getting up the courage to break it to me."

"It wasn't that. I just hadn't finished digging into her background."

Which told Kirk she was covert.

Stan watched his son interpret the information. He'd gotten a phone call from someone in Krissoff's organization, asking – somewhat politely – why he was poking around and what was his interest in one of their employees. When Krissoff approached at the hotel, he figured the guy was going to warn him off and had planned on doing a little name dropping to return the favor. Instead -.

"What does she do?" Kirk asked, pulling his attention to the present. "I take it the whole financial analyst thing is bullshit."

"No, it isn't. She is a financial analyst, just like she told you."

"What she told me is that she and her organization keep tabs on large monetary transactions which often signal illicit activity."

"She chases ghosts."

"Huh?"

# CHAPTER ELEVEN

"People working at that level of money? They're masters at covering their tracks, setting up shell corporations, introducing layer upon layer of complexity, phony companies, dead ends. Skylar finds the head of the snake."

He digested that. "I'm surprised she doesn't have bodyguards or some type of protection. I can't imagine people being happy at being parted from their billions." He doubted many of them ended up in prison.

"Don't you think someone good at finding ghosts is also good at becoming one?"

He angled his head. "You're pretty good at chasing ghosts. Did you have trouble?"

"I wasn't expecting her to be a ghost so I set off a trip wire," he sheepishly admitted.

"Krissoff call you? Warn you off?"

"Someone in his organization. I handled it."

Neither man had to state the obvious, that Krissoff took advantage of being at the same hotel to make sure Stanford Walker knew where he stood when it came to Skye Mueller.

"You here to warn me off about Skye?"

"Krissoff, rather. He's a very dangerous man, Kirk, ruthless. He thinks nothing of manipulating those around him, including those he cares about, in order to get his way."

"Thanks dad," he said after several moments of silence. "Message received."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skylar's Residence

Skye stared out at the horizon, noticed storm clouds gathering. Storm clouds that had absolutely nothing to do with Monsoon Season.

" _You're denying my request to transfer?"_

The thought sent lightning forking into the ground. "Goddamn him," she hissed, then took a long drink of wine. Hopefully, it would leach some of the tension. At least Kirk and Moon were safe.

"Am I the him in that declaration?" a cultured voice inquired politely.

"You know you are," she snapped without turning. "What do you want, Krissoff? Here to lecture me some more on how to handle my problem?"

"I wouldn't presume."

She rolled her eyes. "You've been presuming since the moment you walked out of that lightning storm."

Her life in chaos thanks to a toxic relationship and a toxic job at a toxic company, she'd gone to a local park one night for some serious soul searching, only to have her first taste of plasmakenesis, or the ability to cause her environment to become so electromagnetically conductive there was an energetic discharge in the form of lightning. Rain and thunder were optional. To her complete shock, a tall man had walked straight out of the mesmerizing light display and approached.

"May I come in?"

She hissed, got up to unlock the door. "There's wine in the fridge if you want it," she snapped then turned to go back to her seat. Krissoff had other ideas.

"Skylar," he said, putting hands to her shoulders and turning her to face him. "I wish you'd trust me."

"I do trust you, Krissoff. I just wish you didn't trust _me_ quite so much in this situation. Or maybe you don't trust me, that I know best how to deal with it."

"Not agreeing with you does not translate to not trusting you, Skylar." He took her hands, drew the worst of the static. The process of electrical transference resulted in a mini lightning storm that danced from one hand to the other, one wrist to the other.

Skye hissed as the pins and needles sensation intensified. "I – you don't have to do this."

"Skylar, how long has it been since -?"

"Stop!"

"But you know it would help the situation."

"As you so often tell me, Krissoff, it's but a band-aid. It won't fix the problem."

"You know what would," he replied, "and it's related."

"Been down that path, Krissoff. You know how it fucking ends." She slapped her forehead. "Oh, my god, I can't believe -."

Krissoff grabbed her hand, restarted the transference, tightening his grip when she tried to pull away. "Not everyone will try to exploit your abilities. Officer Walker would never -."

"Accept being with a freak? You're right. He lives a normal life."

"He is a police officer, Skylar. I assure you, there is nothing normal about his life for that alone. That he is an officer and that he risked his life to save Mr. Moon? He is an honorable man and an honorable man would not exploit you."

"The way I exploited him?" she whispered. "When I -."

"You did nothing more than what you had to. And you did not exploit the man, you exploited the opportunity. For good reason. The ends justified the means in that situation, don't you think?"

Skye blinked. Hard. She wanted to think Krissoff was right and maybe he was, but he hadn't seen Kirk's face when he saw who it was that bought the run-down property at the edge of an area that was slowly turning around. She wanted to be part of that. She'd hoped the house would serve as a touchstone for her own efforts to turn her life around.

"Skylar?"

The gentle tone made her eyes burn. _Damn it!_

"For a guy who keeps claiming he needs to be elsewhere you sure have a way of staying," a voice drawled.

Skye's eyes widened. How had he gotten so close without either of them noticing?

"You assume I didn't," Krissoff said beneath his breath. He turned. "Hello, Officer Walker. I was just coming by to tell Skylar I will be leaving tomorrow." _If all goes well._ "How are you feeling?"

"I can't answer that until I know how Skye is feeling," he said by way of reply.

Skye's heart began to beat a bit faster. People did not cross the man who'd been boss, mentor, friend, and walk away unscathed. She wondered if that lightning strike had fried Kirk's common sense. As if he'd read her mind, Krissoff squeezed her hand. "As my business is done, I will leave you with Skylar so she may answer that question herself."

"Have a safe trip," he offered as he reached into the fridge, grabbed a beer. He held it up. "It's okay?"

"Definitely," she answered with a helpless glance at her boss. "Did you – we -."

"I got what I needed, Skylar. I'll be in touch. And, of course, you know how to reach me. Oh, before I go." He handed her a legal sized envelope.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye stared after the man disappearing around the corner, looked down at the envelope in her hand. "Is it okay if I take a look at this?"

"Only if you tell me how you are."

"I – I need to see this. I have a feeling I can't answer that without looking at this first."

"Is that right?"

"He – has a flare for the dramatic, you might say. There's a joke at the office about it. We say he likes to make a point."

"I can believe that."

"And you?" she asked, sliding the documents out. "How are you doing?" She started to scan the information in less-than-ideal-lighting. "Your parents stopped by on the way to the airport, by the way." She frowned.

"They did?"

She looked up. "You had me checked out?" Lightning flashed across the sky.

"What?"

She shook the papers. "You -." She glanced down, up. "Your dad's a fucking spy?" Thunder rattled the windows.

"What does that have to do with -?" He flinched as the porch lit up like the Fourth of July. "Gonna sic Mother Nature on me?"

" _That's_ why he asked me to dinner!" So, he could get a read on her. "Goddamnit!" She tossed the stack to the floor as thunder boomed. Lightning forked into the ground, close. Too close. She pointed. "Get the fuck out of here!"

"Not before I've had my say, Ms. Pot Calling the Kettle Black." Setting the beer bottle out of harm's way he came close. "Maybe you're tired, Skylar. As a spy yourself, that you didn't recognize my dad as one? M _e as one?"_

It was if he'd been slapped.

"Yeah," he continued, "that dinner?"

"Are you saying -?"

"What I'm saying," he retorted ignoring the way the floor vibrated beneath his feet, "is that like most of the people in that ballroom, I had an agenda. Was that agenda you? Hell no."

"You weren't my agenda either." A gust of wind blew and the skies opened up.

Kirk didn't want to admit how much he'd needed to hear that. "I think I know that."

"Do you?"

"I bumped into you walking into the room, Skylar. How could that be anything other than chance? If there was an ulterior motive in that scenario, it started with that moment and I promise you I bumped into you by accident. I didn't see you." Though he had felt a zing he'd attributed to static electricity from the air-conditioned room. Now? He knew better.

"You don't understand."

_Oh yes, I do._ "Then explain it to me."

"They say a picture's worth a thousand words," she snapped. "Will you wait here?"

"I told you, Skylar, I'm not going anywhere until I know you're okay."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk wasn't sure what to make of the way Skye flinched at the remark. She recovered quickly telling him that she, too, was a graduate of _Basics 101._ All he knew was that she stomped into a room at the back of the house, returning a minute later and shoving a binder into his gut.

"Um, Skye? I'm feeling better but that -." _Hurt_ was cut off by her mouth covering his. He let the binder fall to the ground.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye put her hands to Kirk's cheeks, let her mouth do the talking. When his hands went to her arms, she took her right hand, began to unbutton her blouse. Outside, lightning flashed, and rain splatted the ground, slid into the trench she'd dug to redirect water away from the house. Kirk's mouth went to her neck, his teeth grazing her collar bone. She blew out a slow breath, grabbed his forearms as he pushed the blouse from her shoulders.

"I got this, Skye."

"Thank god someone knows what to do," she answered, then reached for the buttons of her shorts. His hands covered hers.

"What part of I got this didn't you get, lady?"

"All of it?" she replied honestly. "I'm serious," she added when he laughed. "When it comes to you, all bets are off."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Putting hands to Skye's shoulders, Kirk stepped back, met blue eyes. "Really?" As in _tell me_ _that_ _wasn't just a line?_

"Kirk, I lost control to this situation in the back seat of a limo on the DC Beltway."

He let out a short laugh. "Well I don't know who you gave it to because it sure as hell wasn't me."

"I -." She pushed a hand through her hair. "I -."

"Yeah?" he drawled, sliding a finger down the swell of her breast.

"I – god, I want you so bad. I – I haven't been able to get you out of my system and that's absolutely ridiculous. It isn't – I mean Christ, it wasn't – we weren't in high school. It's not that it was the best sex of my life kind of thing, but -." She sucked in a breath as she realized how that must have sounded. "I didn't mean -."

"No, I get it. That wasn't my first rodeo either but damn if there wasn't something about you, Skye."

"Then you felt it too? That – whatever?"

"Yeah, damn it and -."

"At the hotel."

"Right."

She turned, paced away. _That_ was what had haunted her all these years. Sex with Kirk in the limo was fantastic but she'd chalked it up to the heat of the moment, decided he picked up on her desperation, answered in kind out of the sheer excitement of doing a near perfect stranger on the floor of a limo. None of that explained the hotel.

" _Come up for a nightcap?"_

" _Only if it's you,"_

She'd planned on messing around with him, flirting, then saying good night. When he'd pulled her into his arms and kissed her? It changed everything.

"I didn't use you," she blurted.

"You did, but I understand why you did it. I know about the storm thing. Moon explained it to me."

"I don't mean the limo. Yes, that was definitely to short out the plasmakenesis."

"The what?"

She briefly explained. "That applies to the limo. Not the hotel room."

"I don't think I'm following. What about the hotel room?"

"I didn't plan on having sex with you again. I was going to just wind it down politely."

"What changed your mind?"

"When you kissed me? I felt this – incredible – _tangible_ connection! It felt amazing! It pulled me right under."

He'd felt it too but wasn't about to say anything. He was definitely in fact finding mode.

"Kirk, you don't -." She paced away, back. Her face warmed at the idea of what she was about to do. She _never_ talked about this stuff with guys!

Kirk waited while she gathered her thoughts. He was definitely curious as to what was so unique about the hotel room that it had her squirming.

"I -." She let out a breath. _I can do this._ "Do you remember that night? I mean I know you remember we had sex but – do you have a good memory? Can you remember it?"

"Yes."

She nodded. "Do you remember how I squirmed beneath you?"

"Definitely," he replied, his voice even. "I also remember you arching against me."

She nodded again. "I did. I also – called out your name."

"And asked me to go deeper."

She hissed. "I don't ever say anything during sex, Kirk. Ever. That was the first and only time. Ever."

He tried but failed to understand why that was such a big deal. "Why did you?" he asked finally. "With me."

"Because I thought you could give me what I needed, would give me what I wanted. I trusted you to do that. I trusted you to listen to my body – to me – and to give me what I was asking from you. I've never done that before. Before that? I never wanted anything more than just the – band-aid of shorting out the electrical overload."

Something about her expression -. "Back up."

"Okay."

"I'm following what you're telling me but Skye, I'm good at reading people. When you're a cop you have to pay attention to people's body language, their eyes, when they talk. It's a tell."

"I'm not lying, if that's what you're implying."

He smiled at the indignant tone. "No but you left something out. Maybe even left it out to yourself."

"What?"

"Something tells me that once upon a time you did ask someone to give you something and it turned out badly, so you quit asking. Something about me – and I think I know what that is – made you take a chance on asking again."

"What?"

"You said you trusted me to give you what you wanted. Trust. You trusted me."

"Probably seems funny given we'd just met."

"You make a living looking for trouble, right? So did I." He still did. "I was caught off-guard by the limo, but I wasn't afraid of you. Obviously, you trusted me too."

"Well, I have a little confession on that score. I did talk with Krissoff before we left for the party. To have him do a quick check into your background. I told him about the storm, so he knew what I was looking for. He gave me the okay."

"So, he knew I was a -."

"Yeah, though he never told me."

"I wonder why not. You'd think that would be relevant."

"Not for the limo, no." She pointed at papers strewn across the floor. "But it's relevant now."

"You can still trust me, Skylar. I didn't lie to you. I told you I'm a cop. I _am_ a cop."

"A cop with clearance."

"And you're a financial analyst with clearance." When she didn't say anything, he steered the conversation back in the direction he wanted. "I liked giving you what you wanted."

# CHAPTER TWELVE

He stepped close, put his hands to her waist. "It was special to me, too, Skye. I don't have the divided thing you do. The limo was special for me. Talk about trust." He stared out at the horizon, noted the absence of thunder or lightning though a steady drizzle was falling. "I'd planned on keeping in touch. I was going to ask you to meet me somewhere, maybe come to the south in the winter."

"You were thinking of a future with me?"

"I was thinking of finding out whether or not we had enough to go that route. Worst case, I'd have determined whether or not it was just the one night." He shook his head. "It wasn't."

"You understand why I left though, right?"

"Now? Yes. Then? And in the years after? That night I helped you take that can to the street? No."

"I'm sorry, Kirk."

"I know. But I gotta ask. What about now?"

"I want to finish what we started."

He cocked his head. Was she purposely messing with him? Finish what they started? Back in DC or that evening?

"How 'bout this," she spoke into the silence. "We make love. We sleep together after. And tomorrow, when I open my eyes, you'll be here. And we'll talk. Then we'll know."

"What is it we'll know? I like the agenda, by the way. Especially the sex part."

She smirked, ran a hand over the bulge at the front of his khakis. "Whether or not there's something to build on."

"I already know the answer to that."

She shook her head from side to side. "You don't. I have things to tell you. To show you. After that I'll listen. I'll answer any of your questions. And _then_ we'll know."

So, she was his to lose. "I can live with that."

"I have another request."

He laughed. "Only one more?" He made a face. "I hope you have more than one request. I like how demanding you were. Telling me what to do, how to touch you. Where. I liked that." He liked the way talking about it made her blush. "What's your request?"

"Can we make love outside?"

"What, on the ground?"

"Yeah."

"It's raining!"

"I know that."

"The ground – there's bound to be scorpions out there!"

"They won't bother us. If you like, I'll bring a black light out to make sure."

"You are -." He shook his head. "Exciting, is what you are. You are exciting. Yes, we can make love – wait. Am I in danger of a lightning strike? I mean if it's disappointing are you going to -?"

"No. That's why we need to talk tomorrow. You need to understand what this plasmakenesis thing is all about. But are you in danger? I wouldn't put you in danger. You were in danger earlier."

"Yeah, I kind of got that." He frowned. "How'd that stop?"

"You got through the pain. We'll talk about that, too. It's part of the whole mystique."

"Can we at least put a blanket down?"

She grinned. "You really aren't good with this, are you?"

"I'm just – it's a desert. That ground is hard. There's – there's probably cactus needles in the ground."

She laughed. "My brave police officer. Okay, we'll do it in the bed this time. Raincheck for the other?"

"Uh -."

She laughed, led him toward the bedroom.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

When something tickled her nose, Skye jerked her head. It didn't help.

"Skye," a deep voice said softly, "open your eyes." He grinned when she gave him the one-eye. "Both of them Sleeping Beauty."

She stretched, rolled toward him, brought a leg across his thighs as she snuggled against his hip. "What?" she murmured sleepily. "I'll warn you, I'm not a good morning lover. Too tired."

He laughed, kissed her hair. "I wanted you to see I'm still here."

She looked up. "Thank you. I really am sorry."

He drew a finger down her lips. "You don't have to keep apologizing, Skye. I told you I understand. And it worked out, right? I mean here we are."

She pushed up on an elbow, blew out a breath. "You want to know about this stuff."

"Yeah, but first. Last night -. Did I do it? Did I give you what you wanted?"

"You couldn't tell?"

He shrugged. "It seemed like I did but I don't want to assume anything."

"I yell my head off and you still wonder." Shaking her head, she rolled from the bed. "I'll go get the binders."

Binders? He only remembered the one.

Skye popped her head in the room. "Are you hungry? Do you want coffee or tea? Where do you want to do this?"

"I'll go make some coffee and how about we do this on the back porch? You have an incredible view."

"Deal. If you have trouble finding anything, holler."

"Like I did last night?"

She came over, kissed him softly. "I definitely liked the Rebel Yell."

"I'll do my best to continue the tradition," he answered kissing her. And once he started, he saw no reason to stop. He pulled her across his lap, rolled her to her back then slid inside.

Skye gasped. "Oh, I _like_ this."

"Good. Get used to it." He chose to ignore the look of uncertainty that went across her face. He understood. She was worried about the binder discussion. "I'm not worried, Skye."

She nodded. It was enough. For now.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye watched Kirk flip through the pages of the first binder.

"This is what the gremlin thing is, right?"

She nodded. He'd explained Krissoff and Moon both talked to him about her _challenge -_ in the context of advising him to stay away from her until she got things under some semblance of control.

" _I'm glad you ignored them."_

He'd gone on to tell her he was too, adding that he wasn't the kind of guy to run out when things got tough.

" _A good trait in a cop I would think."_

While he'd appreciated her attempt at levity, he hadn't been fooled.

" _And in a mate."_

He looked up. "These invoices. You weren't working for Ptroteron when this was going on?"

"Uh, no. I was working in the finance department of a manufacturing company."

He continued browsing pages of invoices for equipment that had needed to be replaced. Because of her _challenge._

"This equipment," he said, flipping pages back and forth. "A lot of laser printers." He looked up. "Any idea why?"

"They were located close to me. One was in my cube." The field fix-it rep told her her machines needed servicing more than any in the district.

"It was already a known phenomenon," she explained. "The idea that some people had a strange effect on machinery. It took awhile to figure out it was me."

"But someone did?"

She sucked her upper lip in, pushed her teeth against it.

"What happened, Skye?"

This is where it got tricky. "It was – our group merged with another. There was some shifting around, moving to new cubes. I – I had taken on some extra responsibilities, so I was given a larger cube, with the caveat that I keep the larger laser jet printer in it."

"Was that a problem? Other than the obvious, that the thing's life was in danger?"

She appreciated the levity, needed it. "It didn't bother me because the thing kept my area warm. That's a bonus in Buffalo in winter, believe me."

"Right."

"So, there was this agreement – other groups had access to that printer, because it was faster and had special features but because I dealt with sensitive data, they had to make appointments to use the thing."

"Makes sense."

"One day this guy from across the building came over to talk to me about scheduling. He was new, came with the merger." She shrugged. "We hit it off."

"You dated him."

She nodded. "I – was - blinded to what was going on."

"What was going on?"

"He was one of those people who was used to riding the coattails of others, getting them to do the work then taking credit for it all the while making it seem like it was their idea."

"Okay."

"I was young, unsure of myself."

"Smart enough to be in your position though."

She smiled. He knew where this was going. "Right."

"I'm guessing he was older."

She nodded.

"He probably resented you but hid it well." Hid it beneath false flattery.

"Yep."

He nodded, looked back at the invoice. His eyes zeroed in on the date.

Skye watched Kirk tap a finger on the invoice while staring thoughtfully at the horizon.

"I have a theory, if you're interested."

"Are you kidding? A chance to see you at work? This is what you did before, right? This type of analysis?"

He nodded. "I was the one who had to explain _why_ people did what they did, what motivated them." It was one of the reasons he'd been so obsessed by Skylar's leaving without saying goodbye. He'd never been able to explain the why of it.

Skye glanced at his finger on the invoice. She very much wanted to understand how everything had gotten so bad. "I'm listening."

Kirk had a feeling the issue with the ex was far from resolved in Skye's mind which told him just how toxic and damaging the relationship must have been. He wanted to help her get past it. In his experience, understanding the variables involved in negative situations enabled people to distance themselves emotionally which allowed for healing. He would do what he could to help her understand which started with explaining the variables involved. He tapped the date. "You were at this company at the height of the Great Recession."

"Yes."

"Lotta companies doing a lot of cost-cutting."

"Yes."

"One of the first places corporations look when trying to cut costs is the cost of labor. The perception, albeit sometimes true, is that older and more senior workers are more costly to a company. The approach is to talk them into leaving, pay them off if they have to, so they can hire younger people in to do the same job at about half the price."

"Yeah, still going on."

He nodded. "Yes but in this scenario, your situation? You were the young gun. You got the brunt of the resentment."

She thought back. Many of her colleagues were Boomers. She'd never given it much thought. "Do you think that's why Boomers bash us so much? Blaming Millennials for pretty much everything?"

"As their older siblings did to Gen-X. To put some context into it you need to consider that Boomers are a complex demographic."

"Right. It's a mindset."

He grinned. "What most people don't consider is that Boomers are not just one generation. Older Boomers have siblings who are also Boomers and who are young enough to be their children. Added to that is the reality that there is no hard start or stop date to a mindset, so you have more than just those two generations impacting the larger demographic."

"I'm following."

"So, you have people who, thanks to the Great Recession, lost a lot of their retirement savings."

"Not to mention the value of their houses."

"Right. This created a need for many who would be retiring to stay in the workforce."

"Without them leaving it created a log jam. No one could move up and no new people could come in because no one was leaving those entry positions since they couldn't move up."

"Exactly." He tapped the invoice. "You worked for a manufacturing company. That sector, which was already facing the impact of moving jobs offshore, took a massive hit. This sets the stage for a lot of uncertainty, a lot of fear."

_That,_ Skye definitely understood. Her employer was one of the largest in her suburban town. The impact on the community was significant.

He closed the binder, set it down. "You were caught in the perfect storm. Your boyfriend -."

"Please don't call him that."

"What would you have me call him?"

"Mr. X."

"So, you have Mr. X who is older. That makes him vulnerable. I'm guessing you had more up-to-date skills, knew how to use the latest technology, newer apps?"

"Yes, though he was smart."

He fought the urge to grin. He doubted she would have dated anyone who wasn't. "He was smart but if the company was cutting costs by cutting funding to training, and he didn't get to learn the new stuff? And if he was one of those who was at the top end in terms of salary? Ripe for the pink slip party invitation."

Skye let out a long sigh.

"What?"

"You're a compassionate man," she said staring out at the horizon. "It makes it easier to talk about this."

"Skye, you don't own the market on bad relationships. Your part of a big international crowd and one that includes me. Take your time."

"Yeah, well while I appreciate that I have to tell you it's pretty embarrassing."

"Why?"

She looked at him. Because I didn't see what was going on! As smart as I was -."

So, she was blaming herself rather than putting responsibility where it belonged, on the guy who was emotionally and psychologically abusive. It irritated him enough that he decided to go refill their coffee.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk handed Skye a mug, sipped coffee that was a little bitter for his taste. Maybe he'd bring some different beans for her to try.

"Different type of smarts," he said picking up the thread. "You had the intelligence but not the experience." He could see by the set of her jaw she was resisting this part. The guy must have done a real number on her to have her all but defending him.

"Skye, you have to understand, when people feel threatened? If they're afraid? It affects their behavior, and usually not for the better."

She nodded. "I get that."

He was about to continue when her eyes widened. "You remember something?"

She nodded. "I got a promotion."

"In the midst of all the chaos."

"And while others were losing their jobs."

He absently tapped the binder. He could definitely see how things got to this point. "By any chance were you competing against him for this position?"

"A buddy of his."

"Okay, so you got the job which means people thought you better qualified. No need to feel guilty about that. None."

No comment.

"How'd he react? I take it he didn't take you to dinner to celebrate."

"He told me I should be grateful. Oh, and that I should feel bad for all the ones who were being let go, how hard it was on their families."

"The guy sounds like a real piece of work."

"Well, that ended up being the tipping point."

"Before you explain that, what happened to the buddy? He come at you?"

"In a roundabout way. He had a lot of allies in the company, so he made sure they all knew he was passed over by me. I got a lot of cold shoulder." She shrugged. "He quit right after that."

"And the tipping point?"

"I'd had it with the put downs and the criticisms, how he constantly pointed out -." She shook her head. "Do you know, he told me I would never go anywhere because I didn't play golf?"

"A lot of people don't."

"He then advised I not bother to learn since I'd be no good at it anyway."

He couldn't help it, he laughed. "He said that?"

"Yep, said my chest would make it so I'd never be able to swing the club."

# CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"Having seen those beauties, I can tell you that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. It sounds like he was afraid you'd be better than him."

"I guess. Anyway, after how he reacted to the promotion, I broke it off."

"Good for you."

"What's your theory?"

"First, can you see how I set the stage? I pointed out all the variables contributing to an overall situation. You were young, intelligent, but inexperienced. You were in a difficult situation because of factors that were out of your control. You were in a bad relationship so you didn't have the support you might have otherwise had. That the guy was so intimidated by you, that he was abusive? You were like a bleeding surfer in shark infested waters. Can you see that?"

She nodded. "The theory?"

"Before I get to that I want to add another variable. People in stressful situations react differently. Some hide and hope it all goes away. Some get proactive and strategize. They take action. Others see themselves as victims of circumstance which leads to them getting a sense of entitlement. They were wronged so they are entitled to something – compensation, retribution -." He shrugged. "Those types generally move past the cold shoulder treatment and into the land of backstabbing and wasn't it just so convenient that they had someone to focus their frustrations on?" He let her digest that. "This is where the lack of experience exacerbated an already bad situation."

"You were good at your job, weren't you?"

He appreciated the need to distance herself from the painful memories, but he had to keep going. She wasn't responsible for other people's bad behaviors though she'd certainly borne the brunt of it. She needed to understand how that led to the current state of affairs. "Those factors meant you had to go on the defensive against something you didn't understand and didn't have the experience to navigate. Lots of potential for being harmed in that scenario."

"The theory?"

He set the empty coffee cup on the ground. There was nothing like hearing a different perspective to give context to something out of your control.

"So, there you were, doing your job like the rest of the folks. Only some of them weren't. Doing their jobs, I mean. They would have been hiding, hoping no one saw them and laid them off. Or they didn't want to expose that they weren't up to snuff in terms of the latest, so they were hiding by attaching themselves to a person or a project that enabled them to look productive."

"I'm following you."

"You probably watched as good people, talented people, were let go while the ones who'd been hiding were kept on."

"That's just office politics."

"Yeah, but given the environment you were in? That you were in a bad relationship where someone was belittling you? The resentment inside had to be building."

"Yeah."

"You aren't a violent person. You had nowhere to channel the frustration."

"I ran. I was a runner." Though never as good as Mr. X. According to Mr. X, that is

"What's the matter?" he asked, leaning forward and running a finger over the frown lines on her forehead.

"He, uh -."

"Put down your running too?"

She nodded.

"If it helps, it fits his modus operandi. It wasn't you. I'm sure he does this in all his relationships. Was he ever married?"

"He divorced her after she was promoted." A promotion which had made her his financial equal.

"See?"

Yes, she was seeing quite a few things. She nodded.

"As I was saying, you had nowhere to channel the frustration. This thing with the plasmakenesis happened because you needed an outlet other than violence."

"You don't think breaking poor innocent machines violent?"

"Better than breaking something else, like yourself."

"Huh?"

"Anger turned inward? Some pretty self-destructive habits can come out of that one. How you handled it was the best response given your options at the time."

She considered, nodded. "Okay, I'll accept that."

"So, what happened that -?"

"Open the other binder."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk noticed that unlike the first binder, which was filled with receipts for equipment, this one contained newspaper clippings.

"Oh, there are receipts." He frowned. "Moving receipts?"

"Look at the dates."

He immediately picked up on what she wanted him to see. "You're saying you -?"

"Every one of those weather incidents? They all broke a record. Record cold, record wind speed, record rainfall, snowfall. Record tornadoes, record hail. Hurricanes."

"I don't see an earthquake in here."

"Not funny, Kirk."

"Okay, I'm sorry. You're saying you caused all of this?"

"I'm saying I amplified it. I upped the intensity. Each one of those moves was tied to the same frustration point."

"Which is?" Steve and Krissoff both told him she knew what was behind the situation.

"Relationship."

He considered the limo solution. "Sex?"

"No. I thought so at first but it's actually something far simpler."

He held up the binder. "Skye, there is nothing simple about this situation. If I'm reading this correctly, the energy builds up as a result of how you were treated as a female and the fact you were not in a position to do something about it." He looked at the date on the last page of the binder. "This was all before the Me Too movement became a thing."

"I got along with plenty of my male coworkers, including bosses, and it wasn't always males who were nasty."

"Oh, no, I can see where female rivalry could play into it. As for getting along with males, we're talking about what lit this firestorm to begin with, what led to you being a gremlin." Repressed anger and frustration needing an outlet.

She pointed at the folder. "Some of those moves were for positive reasons, like a promotion or new opportunity in another region, though that introduces a whole other can of resentment worms."

Hm. Do good, get punished. Yep, he could definitely see how things got to this point. He exhaled, flipped through the pages. "Did that guy you were with ever figure any of this out? You said he was smart."

She shook her head. "He was so self-absorbed he didn't think it worth acknowledging."

"Probably didn't want you to have something special, something he didn't have." He looked over at her. "Any idea what took it from gremlin to Rainmaker?"

She blew out a breath. The night I broke up with him?"

"Yep."

"I – it was a Friday. That I broke up with him meant I wouldn't be going out, so I decided to work late. I went to print out some spreadsheets, broke the damn printer." She grimaced. "The big one."

He gave her an affectionate smile he hoped she would find supportive. "Understandable."

"You can imagine how that went over."

"Perfect topping to a perfectly crappy day."

"I was so disgusted. I think it tipped the scales because next thing I know I'm walking through a park in the middle of a violent thunderstorm."

"That didn't worry you?"

"I told you, I wasn't thinking straight."

"Okay, so then what happened?"

"I -."

"Tell him, Skylar."

Kirk jerked. He pointed the binder like a weapon. "I _knew_ you wouldn't keep away!"

Krissoff stepped over. "I brought pastries and some fresh coffee."

Skye looked at Kirk. "Do you mind if I go in the kitchen with him and get that sorted out?"

"Fine. I'll go use the facilities." He disappeared toward the bedroom.

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Skye grabbed plates out of the cupboard while Krissoff dealt with the coffee. "You planned this."

"Hm?" he said handing her a cup.

"That he and I -."

"Since Washington DC," he admitted, smiling at her expression. "I knew when we met for the debrief he was special to you. I looked into his background then waited, watched."

"Watched what?" she asked leading him back to the porch.

"You. You never quite got over him."

"How did you -? I never talked about the guy!"

"You did, actually."

"I don't -."

"Oh, it was here or there. You may have talked about the party or the dinner."

"You probably brought that stuff up."

"Periodically," he confirmed, "so I could gauge the reaction over time."

She sighed, picked up a croissant, shooting him a look of annoyance as she bit into it.

"I believed him to be the perfect solution to this situation. To that end, I considered how I might bring the two of you together."

"Is that right?" Kirk snapped walking up. He reached for a donut. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome," Krissoff replied, handing him a coffee. "There's juice in the refrigerator."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

"You know, Krissoff," Skye began after they were all seated, "I think you should tell him."

"I will jump in if I think you're flailing," he countered.

She hissed.

Kirk decided watching Skye shoot daggers at her boss was vastly entertaining. "I'm ready whenever you are," he offered. "We left off where you were in the park after a pretty bad day. Oh, and that there was a violent thunderstorm going on." He set the empty coffee container on the ground. "I take it you were causing it."

"But I didn't know it. I was too busy being mesmerized by the lightning." She blew out a breath. "So, where are you on the topic of the paranormal?"

"You mean do I believe you're a gremlin? Definitely."

"And the storm?"

"Well, I was there, wasn't I?"

"Seeing is believing," Krissoff put in.

"I ask because this next part is probably going to be a little difficult for you to stomach."

He jerked a thumb. "Does it have to do with him?"

"It does."

So long as she wasn't going to tell him they became lovers, he was good.

"My interest in Ms. Mueller is not romantic."

He looked over at the director.

"I, too, can read people, Officer Walker."

"I told you, it's Kirk. Okay, I'll give you that. Just don't try to tell me you're a mind reader."

"Seems like it sometimes," Skye grumbled.

"So, what happened? It strike you but nothing happened? No burns?"

"Close. The strikes got really close but – it was as if I was hypnotized or something. I didn't move. I also didn't feel anything. You know, how people talk about their hair standing on end, all that stuff? Nothing. But that's not what is so hard to believe."

"I'm listening."

"All of a sudden this guy steps out of the middle of the lightning show."

"Not sure I'm following. But by this guy, I assume you're talking about Krissoff."

"Yes. The lightning had been hitting the ground in this one area about a half a football field away from where I was standing. I just stood and stared. Next thing I know this guy is walking toward me." She tilted her head. "Him."

Kirk looked at the director. "You were in the middle of that storm? What, you some kind of alien or something?"

"I don't know that that's relevant to this conversation," he answered. "Please allow Skylar to continue."

"Please continue."

So the second he gets close he says, "Hello, Skylar. I've been looking forward to meeting you. He put out his hand, you know, like we're in DC at some conference and just meeting for the first time?"

"We were just meeting for the first time," Krissoff pointed out.

"I put my hand in his and the storm stopped. Instantly."

"How's that?" He directed the question at the Ptroteron director.

"I absorbed all the energy."

"How?"

"By standing at the center of the storm I drew the electrical energy into my system."

"Uh-huh."

"When I touched Skylar, I drew the excess energy in. As hers was of a different nature, it collided with that of the storm. The energy waves cancelled each other out."

"In your body," he said dubiously.

"Yes," Skye answered. "I swear it."

"Before you offer an opinion," Krissoff broke in, "consider your own recent experience. You and Mr. Moon. How is it you weren't killed?"

He had to admit he'd been wondering that himself. He'd talked at length to both the doctor and Steve about it. Oh, and his father who'd gone so pale the first time he mentioned it he hadn't brought it up again.

"I don't know," he admitted, "but I have a feeling you do."

"Skylar?" Krissoff prompted.

"Wait," Kirk interrupted. "Were you aiming at Steve?"

"No."

"Yes," Krissoff countered.

"Well which is it?"

"Skylar," the director continued, "think of what's at stake here. Only honesty will save this."

"What's this?" Kirk asked.

"I believe that will become evident. Skylar?"

"When I moved here, I had a lot of this excess energy built up. The stress of moving, the prospect of being put on sabbatical. I -."

He waited.

"Krissoff brought Steve over to meet me. He was going to work with me to redirect the energy. So I could get control of the plasmakenesis."

"Okay."

"He suggested dealing with the stressors as we could, in order to lighten the load. He also gave me some meditation exercises though that was a bust."

"Kind of hard to relax the mind when you're renovating a house and have Mrs. Garcia as a neighbor."

"And you."

He waited.

"I agreed to the house cleansing but I was concerned."

"Because?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does," Krissoff insisted, "but in the interest of time –." He looked at his watch. "I do have a plane to catch so I'll forebear."

"That'd be a first," Skye grumbled.

Kirk grinned. Skylar Mueller was just what he'd been waiting for. "So you were concerned," he prompted.

"It's why I asked you to stay in the car. I worried the cleansing would somehow be seen as a threat by me. On an unconscious level."

"Which it was," Krissoff supplied.

"It seemed directed at Steve," Kirk said. "Is that because he was changing the equilibrium?"

"Something like that."

Krissoff stood. "I think Skylar is capable of handling things from here. Officer – Kirk. Will you please walk me to the car?"

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

"Whether you like it or not, Kirk, I have a responsibility to Skylar. To guide and protect."

"To guide and protect?" he echoed.

"Who is better qualified than someone who not only recognizes her potential but provides the opportunity and allows her the freedom to develop it in her own unique Skylar style?"

"Sounds good in theory."

"I'm not sure how much she's told you but the man who lit that storm? He came back around. He decided she could be of use to him after all. It was traumatic."

"Yeah? Are you telling me I need to worry about some nutjob ex showing up -?"

# CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"Mr. Malone has been taken care of," Krissoff calmly explained.

"Uh, Krissoff? I'm a cop. I can't condone -."

"Did I say anything about a crime?"

"You implied it."

"What I'm telling you is that he is not the first to try to exploit Skylar's talent."

"You mean the gremlin thing?"

"Skylar is more than the gremlin thing. That she is a plasmakenetic is incredible. However, her true gift is in how she looks at life. It's what makes her such a success in her field of study. She is very kind and thinks nothing of dropping everything to help another."

"So you're telling me she gets taken advantage of a lot." As he'd suspected.

"Which necessitates that I stay close."

"You aren't suggesting I become a babysitter, are you? Like a bodyguard?"

"I can't see how that would distress you. Once upon a time you made a living as such. You are certainly qualified. However, in this case I'm simply making you aware of factors that go along with loving Skylar Mueller. She needs protection. I will continue to provide it. That you are in her life?"

"For protection?"

"Love protects, don't you think?"

"Uh -."

"Loving you will give her a path to redirect the energy in a way that is not only productive, it will be good for the both of you."

"I -."

"The passion behind the energy required to bring lightning? Formidable indeed."

Oh, he'd felt that passion alright.

"I see you understand. She is a good person. And smart. Do not treat her as anything other than an equal."

"Didn't occur to me to do anything else." His parents had that type of relationship. It helped that they were in the same industry. He grinned. Like he and that sexy redhead.

"You have my contact information. If there is ever an emergency, do not hesitate to get in touch. And if it is critical? Mr. Moon is capable of dealing with it."

"Is that right?"

"Talk to Skylar. You have no reason to be jealous. She cares for you. She has since your first meeting."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Krissoff's words echoed in his mind as he took a seat across from Skye. "You want to continue, or you need a break?"

"Well, now that you mention it -."

Kirk had never thought about it before but as he watched Skye crawl into bed before scooting back while an afternoon sun played hide and seek with the sheets, he decided he was definitely a lighting man. The play of light and shadow across her body was pure art. "Skylar, you take my breath away."

When she shot him a quizzical look, he explained. "For one thing, I love you in white. Especially white button-down shirts that leave just a bit of your collarbone showing. What isn't covered by your hair, that is." He walked so that he was standing next to the bed. "I gotta tell you, when you – when you talked to me in bed at the hotel room in DC? Telling me where to touch? How? It affected me, Skye. _You_ affected me. Whatever it was that was inside of you, looking for a way out? It bled out through your voice and your body at the same time." He put one knee on the bed, wrapped a lock of hair in his finger, rubbed it. "I – I guess I'm learning to be a believer because when I think back over that night and run it through the filter of what I know now? I know there was something flowing between us that was more than just lust." Though there had definitely been plenty of that. "And it wasn't love."

"No," she agreed. "Not love. And not -. It wasn't the whole god this is the best sex."

"We didn't know each other well enough for it to be that."

"So what was it, oh wise profiler?"

"I don't bring work into my -."

"You bring your mind. The same mind that makes you good at your job."

"Touché. Okay. My thought? We just had that energetic – that magnetic -."

She pulled him into the bed. "Are you telling me it was love at first touch?"

"Definitely," he responded, pressing his lips to hers as he slid his hand between her thighs. "Mm."

"Mm," she answered, wiggling down and maneuvering so he'd be in a position to finish the task. "I like how you push your fingers inside while you're getting me off."

"That doesn't hurt you?"

"So long as you keep your nails trimmed, no."

He laughed, shook his head. "Skylar, if you –. I'm glad I found you." The women he'd known couldn't hold a flame to her blunt honesty.

"But you have to remember," she said gently kneading the inside of his thigh, "I never talked before you. I never asked."

"Right. Trust."

⚡ ⚡ ⚡

Kirk stretched, opened his eyes, and took a deep contented breath. He frowned. Something was off. Skylar! She wasn't in bed. He hurriedly pulled on jeans, went to find her. Fortunately, he didn't have to go far.

"Skye?"

She looked up from the chair on the porch, smiled. His gut tightened. He was still learning to read her, but he knew that in spite of the smile something was wrong. Seriously wrong. He dropped into the other chair, grimaced as his bare back rubbed against sticky plastic. He hated beach chairs. One of the first things he was going to do when he moved in was replace the cheap furniture scattered throughout the screened in porch. "Talk to me."

"Did you mean what you said in there?"

"In there," he repeated. "The bedroom?" It had to be before they made love because they'd both fallen asleep immediately after.

"About what it was."

Oh. _That._ Rather than answering, he stepped over, drew her out of the chair, then proceeded to sit and pull her into his lap. "You mean about love at first touch?" He smiled knowingly. "Yes, it was love at first touch. In fact, looking back, I suspect it happened the moment I bumped into you in that ballroom, though there was so much extraneous noise I didn't tune into it right away."

"I didn't then but I think -."

"Yes?" he asked kissing her softly. He played with her hair, enjoyed the feel of it sliding through his fingers as he nuzzled her neck. "Tell me. When?" _When did you know you loved me?_

"When you offered to get me through the crowd? When I took your arm? Like you said, there was a lot of – noise – but I'm pretty sure I was sunk at that point."

He kissed her bare shoulder. "I'm glad it isn't just me."

"Is it enough, do you think?"

"Definitely."

"But I haven't told you everything."

He nodded. "I'm aware of that. I figure it's going to take a lifetime."

"I couldn't agree more," she replied.

And so the world turned.

# ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Elizabeth has lived, worked in, and traveled to multiple locations throughout the world.

I've been exposed to a variety of cultures and interacted with people from all walks of life who were generous in sharing their stories with me, along with their hopes and dreams.

Although always working on her craft, Elizabeth spent twenty years working in the Information Technology industry where her career evolved as technology did. Her front row seat to rapid and constant change taught her the value of remaining flexible and open-minded, and the importance of continuing education.

After studying holistic healing with a British surgeon, Elizabeth went on to earn a doctorate in holistic medicine and a bachelor's in holistic childcare.

Elizabeth is the winner of multiple short story fiction awards and has had one produced as a play. She is the author of both fiction and nonfiction.

You can follow Elizabeth at elizabethmaxim.com.

