So…today’s excerpt from A Sight to Dream Of was inspired by my musical choice for the week, The Cowboy Junkies’ song, Angel Mine. That diner saw A LOT of action in the series. Unlike the bookshop I mentioned last week. I’m really feeling like there’s a series set in a magical bookstore somewhere in my future. We’ll see.
Nick sipped his coffee as he studied the photos arrayed in front of him. Beside him the jukebox played quietly, until some idiot selected an early Rod Stewart song, and he switched the damn thing off. The last thing this case needed was a soundtrack.
Sure, he’d like to find a reason to believe there was another explanation for what he was seeing. And if he thought about it long enough, he knew he could find a way to make himself believe it was all a mistake. But he was trying real hard to toe the line between objective fact and wishful thinking.
He put down his cup and drummed his fingers on the Formica tabletop, as he stared at the contents of the file. On the surface the photographs seemed innocent enough. There were no seedy motels to be seen. No impossible-to-misconstrue romantic clinches. No obviously clandestine meetings. As blackmail photos, they would be almost totally useless. And as evidence… Well, evidence of what, exactly?
“Shit, Paige, what the fuck were you up to? Surveillance reports, too?” Goddamn, the woman was obsessed!
And wouldn’t it be nice, if that was all this was? The temptation to write the whole thing off as just some weird and isolated mental aberration on Paige’s part would have been nearly overwhelming, if that were all the file contained. But what was left in the folder was not so easy to explain away.
“Hey, Nick. How’s it going?”
Nick looked up to see Marsha approaching with Sam in tow. He had just enough time to slip the folder back into the file box on the seat beside him, before she was sliding into the bench on the opposite side of the booth.
“I got something for you,” she said, and he had to sympathize with the wary, uneasy look on Sam’s face as he took the seat next to her. The woman looked too pleased with herself to be up to any good at all.
“Yeah? What’s that?” he asked, as noncommittally as he could. And he wasn’t surprised when her grin grew wider.
“You still need someone to help you get into Paige’s computer, right?” Her eyes twinkled as she nodded at Sam. “I think Sam’s your man. He knows all about computers.”
Sam looked horrified. “Whoa! Hold on a minute, I never said that!”
Marsha turned her smile on him. “Hey, there had to be some reason I suddenly got the urge to come out here today. You think it was coincidence that you both happened to mention computers to me within the same twenty-four hours, and now we all end up here together? C’mon, it’s obvious, isn’t it?”
Nick sighed. “I think that kind of thing is only obvious to you Marsha.” He looked at Sam. “Do you know how to go about hacking into someone’s computer without their password?”
“Why do I feel like I’d be incriminating myself, if I say yes?” Sam shot a rueful glance at Marsha. “Yeah, I could probably do it for you. It might take some time, though.”
“What do you think you’ll find on her computer, anyway?” Marsha wanted to know.
“I’m not sure.” Nick shrugged. He finished his coffee and pushed the cup aside. “But I knew her well enough to know that she kept everything on that machine. Appointments, notes, phone numbers, story ideas, her journal. At the very least, it should give us a better idea what she’d been working on, or if she’d been planning to meet with anyone that day.”
“You think she was killed because of some story she was working on?” Marsha sounded surprised at the idea, and Nick couldn’t help wondering if she’d like some of his other ideas any better. He even briefly considered showing her the file, maybe she could get some sense of what Paige had been thinking. But he wasn’t ready to share that yet, and definitely not with Sam sitting here.
“It’s certainly one possibility,” he told her, as he got up to leave. “So, Sam. If you’re game to give it a try, why don’t you stop by the station later this afternoon and I’ll show you what we’ve got?”
“What?” Sam reeled in his wandering thoughts with difficulty. “Oh, right. Yeah, I’ll do that. Glad to help.”
“Right,” Nick said. “Well, see you later, then.”
“Oh, and Nick?” Marsha sounded slightly self-conscious, and Sam was surprised to see that she was blushing again. “You think maybe you could not mention it to Scout that you saw me here today? She’s already getting certain...ideas...about things. I’d rather not give her any more to work with.”
“Ideas, huh?” Nick looked amused as his glanced shifted to Sam and back again to Marsha. “All right. You’re keeping our secret, after all. I guess I can return the favor.”
Sam watched him walk over to the cashier’s counter, before he turned to Marsha. “So, you still gonna tell me you’re not embarrassed?” he asked, but he smiled as he said it.
“Hmm?” she responded vaguely, not meeting his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He watched in amusement as she fiddled with the tabletop jukebox until she’d restored the volume on it. And then as she transferred her attention to her menu, studying it with every appearance of interest, although he was willing to bet big money she already knew exactly what she wanted to eat.
With anyone else, he’d definitely have been annoyed, as well as insulted. But it was hard to be angry with someone who was so clearly determined to save you from dangers you didn’t even know existed.
Appointment books. Phone numbers. Story ideas. A journal.
Damn right he wanted the chance to take first crack at that computer. When he broke it, he’d see where a little creative editing of files might be in order. He’d been way off base, these last few days, thinking of Marsha as a witch—even a good witch. He recognized her now for what she truly was. His very own guardian angel. In the oh so desirable flesh. And after just a few days in Oberon, he wasn’t even slightly surprised to recognize the song currently playing on the jukebox. The Cowboy Junkies were singing Angel Mine. And didn’t that figure?
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