Free Larceny and Lace by Annette Blair Page A

you tired?”"
    “"Exhausted. I didn’'t sleep last night because I was packing, and after work today, I drove home from New York. Now this.”"
    “"I can tell you a little about what happened here, earlier, but not much. It can wait until morning if you’'re too tired.”"
    I got up, toed off my shoes, and nudged the quilt toward the couch. “"Just tell me one thing. Did a body come wrapped in this quilt?”"
    “"Yes and no. Bones only. They’'ve been here about twenty-eight years.”"
    “"How can you be sure about time? How have you counted the years?”"
    “"I count Christmases. The town dresses up for Christmas, so every time I see a Christmas display, I know it’'s been another year.”"
    “"How creative of you.”"
    Dante accepted the compliment as his due. “"The man who originally brought the bones was nervous,”" he said. “"Very nervous. Like he’'d killed someone.”" I nodded. “"A simple deduction when a man hides bones.”"
    “"He dropped some of the small bones on the way up and had to go back for them. All told, he fell down the stairs three times while he was here with very little help from me.”" Dante looked rather proud of himself. “"On his running out, the guy took the worst tumble I ever saw. Judging by the way he drove away, I think he was scared. He drove right into that telephone pole on the corner. I watched the ambulance take him away.”"
    “"When he was here, did he see you?”"
    “"Of course not.”"
    “"Yet you toyed with him. No wonder he was scared.”"
    Dante’'s grin held a great deal of wicked pride. No wonder Dolly fell for him. “"I got a good look at the bones he dropped before he went back for them. They were clean and dry before he put them in the quilt with the rest.”"
    “"I can’'t tell you how much better I feel now about touching this quilt.”"
    “"Why would you want to touch it? Does it have anything to do with the way you seem to go into a trance and say things you don’'t remember, like when you made your friend almost faint?”"
    “"Let’'s save the whole story for another day, shall we?”" I about begged. “"In a nutshell, I’'d rather touch a vintage clothing item likely to speak to me when I can’'t scare anyone by doing it. I mean, I’'d rather not touch it at all. But I’'m doing it for my friend who was arrested tonight, for poor Mr. Sampson, and for the person the bones belonged to.”"
    “"Why?”" Dante asked.
    “"I’'ve been involved in one murder investigation. Certain vintage clothes spoke to me then, and I believe that this quilt has something to tell me now.”" Dante nodded, as if satisfied.
    I got on the fainting couch facing him, my insides trembling at the thought of losing my senses to a dark past. Chakra curled into my middle as I lowered my hand, hesitated, and, finally, tucked it into a pocket of the quilt puddled on the floor.
    “"Go to sleep,”" Dante said. “"I’'ll protect you.”"
    “"How can you protect me?”"
    “"I’'ve gathered a deal of energy over the years. I can make a man trip over his own feet. Which can be fun when he’'s committing nefarious deeds.”"
    “"I’'ll bet. What else can you do?”"
    “"Flicker the lights, break a window, take the cover off a casket when a woman’'s tied up inside.”"
    “"Cary Grant, my hero.”"
    His chin dimple deepened with his frown. “"My name is Dante Underhill, no matter who you and Dolly think I look like. I might be able to knock you off that couch, but you’'ll have to take my word for it, because if I showed you, I might not have enough energy left to protect you, in the event you needed protecting. Close your eyes, sweet friend.”"
    “"I’'m not sweet,”" I said, doing as I was told.
    “"You were worried about me losing my building. I heard you say my name to that cop.”"
    “"You listen at windows?”"
    “"I live for the sound of human voices,”" Dante whispered near my ear, and I felt a touch of ice on my brow.
    No wonder Dolly fell