Chapter 15: Who Is The Father?

“No one else.”
Grace bit her lip. A debate raged inside of her. Did he not realize what other people thought of her. If only one person had told her of Dolores’ hijinks she might not have believed him, but Hank had no reason to lie to her.
“You think so?”
His stare tried to bore a hole through her as if daring her to refute him. “I hear Dolores has been with a lot of people.”
She regretted the words when the pain pierced across his steel eyes, making them closer to flint than anything that could hold up a building.
His jaw clenched and a muscle worked in his cheek. “Those are lies.”
“Zach,” Grace said in her “calm the patient” voice.
His shoulders slumped. “Okay, I know about Dolores. That’s why we’re divorced. She ran around on me.”
He turned away from her. She obeyed her instincts and moved to him, touching his back. The pain was raw and still at the surface for him. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault and I should be done with it by now.” He turned back to her, shifting her close to him. “For some reason I want to trust you, but I can’t.”
His head tipped and moved closer to her. His hand warmed the side of her face. Colors danced on the border of her vision as desire shot through her.
If of their own accord her head leaned into him, her lips parting. Her brain screamed that she couldn’t do this. The last time she gave into an attraction she’d wound up arrested for a murder she didn’t commit. “No.”
Her self-control did not reach her feet so she was unable to move.
He stopped his eyes on fire, his breath ragged across her cheek. “No?”
“We can’t. I have a job to do.”
He brushed past her. “And what is that. Protecting Dolores?”
“Yes in a way. She asked me to help her.”
“Yeah, you said that. Her corpse talked to her. You got those cops in Pennsy so stymied they speak highly of you.”
Her back stiffened this time. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I helped them.”
“That Detective wouldn’t get specific about how you helped. Something about an arson. Why don’t you tell me the details.”
Every fiber if her being wanted to spill the whole story. She wanted someone to believe her and be in her court. She took a deep breath, but knew she couldn’t tell him the truth. The one thing he wanted, she didn’t feel he could handle.
Shaking her head she backed away out of the kitchen. “Trust me. You don’t really want to know the truth.”
He followed her grabbing her arm. Electricity seared its way through her.
“Try me.”
“No. You wouldn’t believe me.”
“Are you attracted to me?”
She swallowed hard and crossed fingers behind her back. “No.”
“Then why were you as eager to kiss me as I was to kiss you?”
“You misread my body language.” She tugged herself loose. “I have to go. I still want the answer to my question.”
***
Zach’s phone rang as soon as Grace left. His caller I.D. said it was Celia.
He debated not answering it, but she’d keep calling him. Maybe she knows when he’s home. The idea spooked him a bit.
“Celia.”
“Listen to her.”
“Who?”
He settled onto his couch, the cordless phone cradled against his shoulder. This woman was the bane of his existence some days. Why didn’t she just leave him alone.
He knew why, but that didn’t give her license to disrupt his life. Okay, maybe it did, but he didn’t have to like it.
“That woman who just left.”
“Celia, don’t spy on my apartment.”
“I’m not.”
A chill went down his spine. She was right. The number on is caller I.D indicated she was home and he knew that was across town.
“Celia, stay out of this. And stay out of my life.”
He pressed the disconnect with more fury than he should have felt for her.
***
Grace sat in her car trying to calm her runaway heart. The colors she’d seen when he touched her scared her. And the visions spoke volumes, spoke of a future with Zach. How could this be if she saved Dolores? She’d seen more than any corpse had let her see.
Her ringing phone interrupted her pity party.
Mark’s voice boomed out at her. “Hey, Gracie.”
“Mark. You seemed to know when I need to hear your voice.”
“A guy or a dead body?”
“I have other things in my life.”
He chuckled. “Which is it this time?”
She sighed. “A guy.” Which had only ever been once before this. And that hadn’t worked out either.
“Tell me more.”
“He’s the ex-husband of the corpse, er Dolores. My landlord.”
“The guy’s your landlord?”
She rubbed a hand over her face. “No Dolores is. The murder victim.”
“So, he’s an ex right?”
“It isn’t that simple.” She bit her lip not really wanting to tell Mark that this guy was different. That she felt things she hadn’t felt with any other human being. “He may be the father of Dolores’ baby. This is all wrong Mark.”
“What is?”
“These things that are happening didn’t happen before. Too many of them. I’m getting scared that I can’t prevent this.”
Her fear threatened to choke her. At the very least, her helplessness might immobilize her and then where would Dolores be?
“You’ll be fine, Grace. You always are.”
“What about the last time?”
“A fluke.”
“How can you be so sure.”
“Well what else has changed. Nothing right? You moved your location and that hasn’t affected things in the past. You worry too much.”
“You’d worry, too if you had dead people talking to you.”
“Why all of a sudden are you afraid?”
“Because it’s different this time.”
“What is. Give me specifics or I can’t help.”
Some part of her didn’t want to divulge that she had visions when she touched Zach. If she said it out loud to Mark, it might mean something. She didn’t want her new reaction to mean anything. She wanted to leave Mill Hall, but couldn’t because of Dolores. “I can’t. Never mind. Where are you again?”
“California. I’m doing a traveling play.”
“What play?”
He launched into a colorful description of his new job as Grace’s mind wandered. A rap on her window brought her out of her reverie. Dolores stood there in the light of a streetlamp a casserole in her hand. With her head cocked and face scrunched she had a question on her mind.
Grace begged off Mark’s conversation and then rolled down her window. “Dolores.”
“What are you doing here?”
Should she lie? She gulped. She hadn’t done anything wrong. “I had a question for Zach.”
“You couldn’t call him?”
“I didn’t think he’d answer me honestly.”
“Did he in person?”
“No, he didn’t.
“What was the question?”
Who fathered your baby? “Nothing important.”
“Must have been for you to drive here.” Dolores said, her eyes narrowing.
“You’re right, but it doesn’t seem important now. I’ve got to go get some sleep.”
She rolled up the window cutting off anything else Dolores had to say.