Free Crazy in Chicago by Norah-Jean Perkin Page B

showed, and not just in the deep circles under his eyes. In contrast to the good humor and charm she’d come to expect, he had snapped at her several times in the last hour.
    Cody rubbed his temples and shut his eyes. An urge to reach out to him, to stroke his aching head and his weary body, to offer the physical comfort that only another warm human being can offer, came over her.
    She bit her lip. That was a bad idea. She’d already slipped once in her resolution to remain friends only with Cody. She had no intention of doing it again. Male/female physical comforting might be the answer for him, but she knew what it would do to her: destroy her objectivity and her best chance yet to uncover a true alien abduction case. She couldn’t, and wouldn’t, let that happen.
    Instead, she concentrated on mentally sending Cody the wellness and good night’s sleep she wished for him. She believed in the power of love and good wishes, even if they existed only in her thoughts. For good measure, she added a wish to make him more receptive to the idea of alien abduction.
    After a moment, she decided to press her case. She didn’t agree with Cody that he had exhausted all avenues. There was one angle to his disappearance that he hadn’t pursued.
    â€œWhy do you think there’s nothing to follow up?” she asked cautiously.
    He opened his eyes and scowled. “You’ve read everything. Isn’t it evident? There are no details screaming out to be investigated.”
    â€œFor a big-time reporter, you’re a little short-sighted,” she said, stifling a smile. “Especially when it comes to yourself.”
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?”
    Roberta leaned forward and put her hands on the table, palms down. An evening breeze rippled across her arms. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the sparkle of light off the huge body of fresh water only blocks away. She chose her words, careful not to appear too eager. “There’s one area you haven’t touched.”
    â€œYes?” Cody’s dark brows rose in a less-than-welcoming question mark.
    â€œWhat about this psychic, Madame Carabini? She had some interesting things to say about where you were during your disappearance. Why don’t you go see her?”
    Cody rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah. So she can tell me what she told Allie and Erik: That I was in a cold, strange place? That I didn’t seem to be alive or dead? Sure. Why don’t I just buy some loose tea and read the leaves? Or cut open a chicken and look at its entrails?”
    â€œCody!” Roberta stiffened. “I’m trying to help you. You said yourself there’s nothing else to pursue. So why not this? What have you got to lose? It’s either this or just forget about the whole thing.”
    Cody pressed his lips together. Roberta clenched her fists. Why wouldn’t he listen to her? Couldn’t he see she was just trying to help him? Why didn’t anyone take her ideas seriously? She ignored the twinge of guilt over her true motive for pushing him to see the psychic.
    She tried another tack. “What about that blue light you saw yesterday? That’s certainly strange. Don’t you want to find out about that, too? And isn’t someone like a psychic, someone who can read auras and impressions, more likely to be able to figure out what that light means? Don’t you want to at least try?”
    Cody’s jaw settled into rigid lines. His eyes glinted as hard and disbelieving as coal. He opened his mouth then shut it.
    Suddenly he sat more easily in the chair. The grim line of his mouth blossomed into an inviting smile and his eyes sparkled with warmth, dispelling the stubbornness present there only seconds earlier. In less than a moment his whole demeanor changed from sullen resistance to accommodating charm. He smiled playfully, and turned up his sex appeal.
    â€œIt’s not that I don’t want to