Free Parker And The Gypsy by Susan Carroll

mail, he hadn’t had a chance to go through, Mike had explained before blithely shoving the whole stack onto the floor mat.
    Now as she straightened, several of the envelopes tumbled to the grass beside the car. She and Mike nearly bumped heads, swooping to retrieve them. While Mike chased down several that had fluttered near the front tire, Sara went after the one that had landed at her feet.
    It was a business-size envelope, thickly padded as though it contained several pages worth of letter. As soon as her fingers closed around it, an odd feeling swept through Sara, as disturbing and powerful as though some sort of dark mist seeped from beneath the seal of the envelope.
    She had discovered long ago that she had limited psychosometric powers. Not as strong as some psychics she’d read about but enough to sometimes divine details about the owner of an item or to guess the contents of package. It was an ability that had frequently gotten her into trouble as a child, left her open to accusations of having peeked at Christmas presents early.
    But this letter was no Christmas present. It was something black and empty. It felt heavy in her hands, almost threatening. The return address was a little smudged, but still partly readable. Trenton State ... Sara became aware of Mike beside her, tossing the envelopes he had chased down back into the car.
    â€œNothing but bills,” he said with a cheerful grimace. “I should have just let them blow away. What have you got there—” he began, then broke off as he focused in on the envelope she held. He tensed as though he’d taken a fist to the gut and then snatched the letter from her. She felt strangely relieved to have it out of her hand.
    â€œI—I’m sorry,” she faltered. “I didn’t mean to pry into your mail. I just picked it up and then—”
    â€œDon’t sweat it, sugar. It’s nothing important,” Mike said, but the edge in his voice told her otherwise. His mouth set in a hard line, an odd look stealing into his eyes. If it had been any other man, Sara would have thought it was fear.
    And suddenly, inexplicably, she felt afraid for him.
    â€œIt—it’s not any kind of bad news, I hope?” she asked.
    â€œNah,” he said tersely. “Just a little fan mail from Trenton State.”
    â€œThe university?”
    â€œNo, the prison.”
    â€œOh.” Sara flinched.
    Noticing her reaction, Mike angled a sarcastic glance in her direction. “Beg your pardon. I guess prison is too blunt for most people these days. The correctional facility . Bet you’ve never known anyone who’s had to be corrected , have you, angel?”
    â€œMy uncle Louie once spent a night in jail for shooting a pellet gun at the neighbor’s cat. But he was always quarreling with somebody. Sometimes he could be a—a very unpleasant man and—and...” Sara trailed off, fearing she was sounding hopelessly naive again.
    â€œYeah, well, my life has been full of people who weren’t pleasant.” Something bleak and bitter surfaced in Mike’s eyes.
    Sara’s fingers still tingled from her brief contact with the letter. She stared at the envelope with growing uneasiness. Even though she feared Mike would resent the intrusion, she couldn’t help asking, “This—this person in prison. He’s not writing to threaten you, is he?”
    â€œYou mean something like ‘I’ll get you, when I get out, Lefty.’ Good thing my name’s not Lefty, isn’t it?” A ghost of a smile touched Mike’s lips.
    When Sara was unable to return the expression, he chucked her lightly under the chin. “Thanks for the concern, angel, but this is nothing for you to get all puckered up about unless you want to find yourself kissed again.”
    Which, Sara sensed, was Mike’s playful way of telling her to mind her own business. He tossed the envelope onto the floor