“You mean, for your sake.”
“No. I mean for the family’s peace of mind,” she said. “Will my business take a hit over this? Quite possibly, and I obviously don’t need that. This is a very private process, very special, so to have people feel like they cannot put their trust in me to keep the piece safe and the whole thing private, is another headache I don’t need to deal with. Therefore, anything you can do to wrap this up quickly would be appreciated.”
The cop just nodded.
*
For Hanson MacGyver, this was one of the most bizarre scenarios he’d seen in his work so far. Yet, on the other side of his life, it was just an extension of the craziness he was still learning to control. He could not have imagined before he got up today how his day would begin. But here he was, going down that rabbit hole of craziness right off the bat.
He’d seen the fountain and seen the beautiful piece of artwork spread out and pinned down. He’d originally thought it had been stretched, but, when the forensics team got it out of the fountain, Hanson noted that somebody had tried to stretch it but found that it was already as stretched as it would get. That’s when they realized it was a preserved tattoo.
Hanson had thought for sure they had some weird serial killer on their plate, but, as it turned out, this was a professionally preserved piece. He had looked into Tasmin’s qualifications before coming here, but he hadn’t looked into her history, as far as past cases of just her past. But then this wasn’t exactly the type of job he was accustomed to doing or had expected to be assigned to.
He was new to the town, new to the department, and apparently this crime was something perfect for the rookie. He had skills; he had a lot of skills, in fact, but the ones that he really needed for this were those he was not polished at. He knew it would be a challenge whether to stay neutral or to access any of the energy that went into this. Of course it was something he didn’t dare talk about to the others.
He studied the woman in front of him, who was trying hard to turn her attention back to her work and to ignore him, but he wasn’t letting her.
She finally looked up at him and asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Her tone was polite, but Tasmin’s words and body language conveyed a very clear message. Pretty much that she was busy, that he was in the way, and that he needed to shove off, so to speak.
“I’ll be back,” he said abruptly. Then he turned and left the building.
Hanson felt Tasmin’s gaze boring deep into his back, but he ignored that too. One of the things he often had seen before, both with and without his multiple extrasensory skills and without them, was that putting somebody on the spot, just standing there and staring at them, often made them jump into a conversation. Uncomfortable with something going on in their world, often they would blurt out helpful things.
In her case that didn’t happen, which he also found interesting. However, he noted, with a sense of irritation, that she’d experienced way too much in the years that she’d been doing this for anything to really get to her. Yet her gaze was guarded, as if he was an unknown, which he was, but he didn’t intend to stay that way. Something was going on at her place that he needed to figure out, not just for his sake but also for his sanity.
As he walked out of the store, he looked around, checking out the neighborhood, trying to take a calm, slow deep breath, backing away from the conversation that had set him off so badly.
He had, indeed, experienced the loss of somebody close. His best friend, his soul mate, the woman he’d loved since middle school, had died of breast cancer in his arms. It had destroyed him for so long. It had been a lot of years ago, but it still had the pain and the power to destroy him in a heartbeat. Tasmin hadn’t done it on purpose, but just the memory of such a devastating loss, the way Tasmin spoke about it, was something Hanson could relate to very quickly, and that had been just as hard on him.
He gave a quick mental shake and turned to look back at Tasmin’s shop, studying the energy around it, wondering just what was bothering him. He didn’t have much in the way of dependable psychic skills yet, since he was something called a shadow seer. At least that’s what the person he had been working with had said.
It didn’t make a whole lot of sense to Hanson at first, since what was the point of seeing shadows? But, if his mentor had been standing here, she would have reminded him that the shadows were what told you about everybody else. That people had shadows for a reason. That a lot of people kept things in the shadows that they didn’t want others to see.
So sometimes in the shadows you saw way more than you wanted to, and that was his gift, seeing the shadow person. Hanson had thought he had gone crazy for the longest time and had taken time away from his job, while he tried to figure out what was going on. He finally realized that what he was seeing was stuff that other people saw, although not many, according to his mentor.
Apparently it was normal and natural for anybody with this kind of ability, though it had taken Hanson a long time to adjust and an even longer time to be comfortable with his gift. But he’d managed, and now he was leading somewhat of a normal life again.
Until this job had come up. He was new to Texas, new to the Houston area, and much preferred being here in the small town outside of the big city. He hadn’t really cared where he wound up, and this was as good a place as any.
He remained on the block, studying the area for a bit, and he saw no shadows on any level of existence, as far as he could see with his special sight. After a short walk back to his car, he got in and headed to his office. He had to check in on a few things, like the security company that had worked on Tasmin’s system. Plus, Hanson needed to confirm with the sister how many other people may have had access to the place. Then frowned at a forgotten question.
He quickly dialed her number. When Tasmin answered, he explained who he was and said, “I forgot to ask if you had cameras.”
“I do.” Then with a note of frustration, she added, “Unfortunately they aren’t working today. After you left, I went and checked them myself, but they’re black.”
“So, back to the security company, huh?” he asked in a mocking tone.
“Unless you have a better idea, yes,” she snapped.
“No, not necessarily. I’ll get back to you.” And, with that, he hung up again.
It was all just a little too convenient—a little too convenient that her cameras weren’t working and a little too convenient that she didn’t have any answers. She was looking pretty darn good for this. But was that fair? It could also be a setup. An awful lot was going on here, and the last thing she would want to do was bring unwelcome attention to her specialized work.
Then he remembered her comment about the saying that any attention was good promotion and how she didn’t agree with that. Playing devil’s advocate, he whispered to himself, “Is that actually the truth, or were you just saying that?” Because Hanson knew people would say anything when they were under pressure.
Back at the office, he headed to his desk.
Mark, one of the other two guys he worked with, looked up at him and asked, “Did you get anywhere with her?”
“Not very far,” he said.
“Yeah, we didn’t expect you would.”
“And that’s why you sent me, right?” he asked in a neutral tone.