Free a Touch of Ice by L. j. Charles Page A

damn good explanation.”
    “You’re right, and if I had a rational explanation I would be more than happy to tell you. It’s an uncomfortable feeling prickling around the base of my spine. You know the pri—”
    “We’ve covered prickly.”
    “Right.” I wrinkled my nose thinking it might help my brain find an acceptable answer. Maybe the truth would be good here. “I know this isn’t the end of my involvement in Tony’s death and Mitch’s disappearance. More like the beginning. It’s making me twitchy, like I’m suddenly the only person determined to find the truth about Tony. And I’m scared.”
    The fear that’d been waking me up in the wee hours of the morning was in full force, telling me I was on the right track. “Why can’t the universe find a way to communicate that doesn’t make my knees turn into gummy worms?”
    Violet had circled the block while I chattered, and chose a parking place in a hotel lot. She turned the engine off, pocketed the keys, and focused those cat eyes on me. “I use a lot of intuition in my work. Nothing like what you do, but I have serious respect for the prickly feeling. Against my better judgment, I’m going to help you tonight. Future criminal activities, including lock picking, are not open for discussion. Situations like this come into my life occasionally, not often. Most of my work can be done with a computer and casual questioning, sometimes surveillance. I prefer to leave murder to the homicide detectives who know what they’re doing.”
    Violet dragged in a weighty breath, and I quickly filled the space. “Now what?”
    She did a palms up toward the back of the parking lot. “Tony’s house is just on the other side of that hedge. The street was quiet when we drove by, no cars, dogs, or curious neighbors in sight. We’re going to ease through the hedge, cross the lawn, and enter through his back door. She reached in a bag on her back seat and pulled out a couple of hospital type shoe covers. I really wanted to ask why she had them at the ready, but any questions at this stage could be fatal to the operation. She slapped the booties against my arm. “Put these on before you walk in. Follow me and listen to that subconscious wisdom of yours. Let’s hope it keeps us out of trouble.”
    I sort of heard her, but the reality of breaking and entering about shut down my brain.
    “El?”
    “Right. Sounds good except—are you really sure about this? I can scout around alone, not break in, but check the outside of the house, see what I can pick up. I don’t want you to get into trouble, what with your PI license and all.”
    Violet’s face went scary blank. “I don’t get caught.”
    Minutes later we were standing in Tony’s kitchen, and sensations were bombarding me from every direction. I hadn’t touched a thing. Not one thing. “Whose bright idea was this?” I hissed. Surely not mine. There was none of the emptiness I’d felt in Mitch’s house, just energy so dark it stuck to me like tar. A shudder crawled up my spine and forced the breath out of my lungs.
    Violet ignored me and moved out of the kitchen into…I didn’t have a clue where she’d gone, since I couldn’t see a thing and my feet were rooted to the floor. No way was I gonna move unless I could see what was in front of me. Nope. Not me. Besides, I didn’t hear anything. No footsteps, no rustling movement, no sign of Violet. Where the hell did she come up with these skills?
    I took a step. Two. Banged into a chair, but it righted itself and I let out a shaky breath. Now was a really bad time to get a case of the clummsies. I stumbled along for a few more steps, leading with my hands so I didn’t smash into a wall or something.
    But I did. Smack into a wall.
    Just my hands. And I couldn’t move. The wall held my fingertips captive and pushed a million emotions through my body. Tony’s. The killer’s. Even Mitchell’s from the times when he’d hung out here. It was like the house did