Sense of Evil - Kay Hooper [48]
“What's that for?”
He tore open the wrapping and reached over to place the pad against the nape of her neck, again ignoring a strong shock.
“Ouch,” she said.
“You drew blood,” Rafe told her. “Even with the gloves on. Jesus, does this happen often?”
Isabel looked down at her hands with a faint frown, then stripped off the gloves. “Oh . . . from time to time. Bishop keeps telling me I should wear my nails short. Maybe I'd better start listening to him. Got any aspirin in that box?”
“Ibuprofen.”
“Even better. If I could have a couple? Or . . . a dozen?” She reached up to hold the pad in place herself while he got the pain reliever and then a bottle of water from the cooler he kept in the Jeep.
By the time she had swallowed four capsules, the faint scratches had stopped bleeding, and Rafe used an antiseptic pad to wipe the nape of her neck while she sat with her head bowed and eyes closed.
Every time he touched her, the shock was definite, but she didn't react or comment and Rafe thought he was getting used to it. In fact, it seemed to clear his head.
Which was more than a little unnerving.
Her pale gold hair felt even silkier than it looked and seemed to want to cling to the back of his hand as he worked on her neck. Static, of course. Had to be. He concentrated on treating the scratches she had inflicted on herself, though he admitted silently that it took him longer than was strictly necessary.
“Thanks.”
“Don't mention it. Are you going to be okay?”
She nodded slightly, still without opening her eyes. “When the painkillers kick in. And as long as I don't go back in there right away.”
“Isabel—”
“Look, I know you have questions. Can we save them for a while, please?” She raised her head and opened her eyes finally, looking at him. The distant expression was gone, but she looked incredibly tired. “For now, your forensics team should be here any minute; why don't you go back inside and get everybody doing their thing? Hollis may be able to help. I felt something weird in there.”
Rafe thought there had been a lot of weird in there, but all he said was, “Meaning?”
“That increasing nervousness and fear Emily had been seeing in her sister. I don't think it was just because Jamie was afraid her secret life would be exposed. I think she had another secret, a far worse one. And a much greater fear. I think something went wrong in there. I think she went too far.”
“What are you saying?” He asked the question, even though he knew what she would answer.
“Have your team look for signs of blood. A lot of blood.”
“No sign of that box,” Mallory said after both women had thoroughly searched the back room. “No sign of anything she wanted to keep hidden—outside that closet, I mean.”
Hollis nodded. “There's an attic, but it's wide open and empty.”
“Um . . . on another subject, I gather from your reaction that it isn't normal for somebody touching Isabel to literally strike sparks?”
“I've never seen it happen before, though I've only known her a few months.” Hollis frowned. “I was given a pretty thorough knowledge of the other SCU members, and that definitely wasn't mentioned. Could be something new for her, caused by this particular situation.”
“Or it could be Rafe.”
“Or it could be Rafe, yeah. Don't quote me on this, because I'm certainly no expert, but I guess if the right two energy signatures came in contact, there could be something like those sparks.”
“Don't tell me this is what all the poets wrote about,” Mallory begged.
Hollis smiled in response, but said, “Who knows? Maybe it's as much an emotional connection as it is literal energy fields. In any case, those two are reacting to each other, and on a very basic level.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“I have no idea. But it might explain why Isabel seems to be having a rougher than usual time with this investigation.”
“What might explain it?” Rafe asked, entering in time to hear the statement.
“You.”
“Come again?”
“Hey, I'm just guessing,” Hollis told him.