Free Running Hot by Jayne Ann Krentz Page A

fear that someone was creeping up on her was strongest at night, probably because that was when the Monster had visited her bedroom. But this evening she would not be facing the night alone. In spite of her own secrets, she felt curiously safe with Luther.
    He was careful to keep at least a foot away from her as they made their way along the dimly lit path that linked the beachfront hotels. His cane tapped softly on the pavement. She sensed his barely suppressed irritation.
    “Does your leg hurt?” she asked.
    “Just a little stiff,” he muttered.
    He was lying, she thought. But then, she had lied to him earlier when he tried to interrogate her. She knew that he had not been completely satisfied with her answers. The conversation in the hotel hallway after they had checked into their room had been the one that she worried about the most. She had gone over it again and again in her mind, however, and she knew she had aced it. Luther’s cop intuition might have been aroused, but if Fallon Jones hadn’t penetrated the veil of her carefully manufactured past, it was unlikely that Luther would discover the truth.
    “How long have you lived in Hawaii?” she asked, watching the moonlit surf crash on the rocks below the path.
    “Couple of years. Moved here after my second divorce. Quit my job with the department at the same time. Figured I needed a change of scene.”
    “Sorry about the divorce,” she said quietly.
    “Yeah, well, it wasn’t the biggest surprise in the world.”
    “Were you deeply in love?”
    “Whatever I felt for Tracey died the day I found her in bed with my partner.”
    “Funny how finding out that someone you trusted has betrayed you can kill a relationship.”
    “Been there?” he asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Ex-husband?”
    “No. We were never married.”
    Good grief, what was she doing? Even with the names changed to protect the guilty, any attempt to explain her complicated association with Martin Crocker would not only be difficult, it would be extremely dangerous. She had kept secrets most of her life. She was a pro. But something about being out here in the night with Luther was threatening to make her careless.
    “Does aura talent run in your family?” she asked.
    “Sporadically. My grandfather was a strong aura. He told me that my father was a high strat talent though, and my mother had a mid-range talent for color and design, of all things.”
    “Raw psychic power tends to be a strong genetic trait but the form the talent takes is often hard to predict. Your grandfather told you about your parents?”
    “My folks were killed in a car crash by a drunk driver when I was a baby. I never knew them. My grandfather raised me.”
    “Is your grandfather still alive?” she asked.
    “No. He died the year I graduated from high school and went into the army.”
    She told herself she should stop right there. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. “Is there anyone else in your family?”
    “Maybe some distant cousins somewhere.” He sounded disinterested. “If they’re out there, they never bothered to show up after my parents were killed.”
    “In other words, there’s no one?”
    “Got a couple of good friends over on Oahu. They own the restaurant where I work as a bartender. What about you?”
    “My mother died when I was thirteen. Some kind of rare infection.”
    “Tough,” he said.
    “Yes, it was.”
    “Your dad?”
    “I never knew him.” She kept her voice perfectly neutral. “When my mother decided to have a child, she went to a sperm bank clinic.”
    “Oh, shit,” he said softly.
    She almost smiled. In that single, pithy statement he had told her in the most eloquent terms that he understood.
    “Yes,” she said. “Oh, shit, indeed.”
    “Talk about having a psychic hole in your life.” He turned his head to look at her. “You’re a genealogist. Ever try to find your father?”
    “Of course. A lot of sperm bank kids go looking for their fathers. I eventually