The Wells Brothers: Aaron Page 13

  With a sigh of satisfaction, Edward pushed away his empty plate. “Man, that hit the spot.”

  Draining the glass of Coke, Aaron nodded agreement.

  “So how are you and this mystic witch getting on?” Edward asked.

  “She’s not a witch.”

  “There’s a difference?”

  “Big difference. The mystic next door does clairvoyant readings and such. She doesn’t dance naked in the moonlight nor make blood sacrifices.”

  “Maybe she’s a white witch.”

  “She’s not a witch.”

  Picking up a wooden tooth pick, Edward twirled it between his fingers. “You checked her out.”

  “She did a collective reading at one of my client’s places.”

  “Elspeth Arkwell.”

  Aaron didn’t reply.

  “You know Stella Donahue is a fake called Shea Winters?” At Aaron’s poker face, Edward added, “Of course you did. So, what’s it like to be a fine, upstanding member of the community with a con artist conducting business next door?”

  “No difference.”

  “You don’t have an opinion on it?”

  “Her choice.”

  Debating this, Edward’s gaze went shrewd. “Whistleblower to con artist. That’s a bit of a leap, isn’t it?”

  Aaron nodded.

  “You asked her anything?”

  “Is she on a Federal Police wanted list?”

  “No, she’s on my list of interesting characters that might annoy Aaron.”

  Aaron smiled slightly. “She doesn’t annoy me.”

  “Ha! Give it time and - ” Breaking off, Edward’s eyes widened. “Hot shit! You like her!”

  No point denying it. But no reason to enlarge upon it, either, so Aaron simply waited.

  “You like this woman,” Edward continued. “Are you dating her?”

  “No.” Not yet.

  “Are you going to?”

  “Why are you interested?”

  “Because it’ll be like watching a train wreck.”

  “You think it’s a bad thing?”

  “You don’t?”

  “You do?”

  “Are we going around in circles playing twenty questions so you can avoid answering?”

  “Is that what we’re doing?”

  “Don’t pull that shit on me. I’ve known you a long time. I’ve been with you through some pretty freaky shit. I know that look in your eyes.” Edward leaned forward. “You’re interested in this woman, mate. And what interests you, you pursue.”

  Calmly, Aaron met his gaze. His friend was right, but it wasn’t anything Aaron didn’t already know.

  “What are you going to do?” Edward asked inquisitively.

  “There are a couple of things I need to take care of.”

  “You going to ask her out?”

  “You going to be our chaperone?”

  “Hell, yeah!”

  “Hell, no.”

  “Hell no, you won’t ask her out?”

  “Hell no, you won’t be our chaperone.”

  “Ahah!” Edward jabbed a finger in Aaron’s direction. “You are going to ask her out!”

  Aaron smiled slightly.

  “Man, I can’t wait to see this!” Edward rubbed his hands. “Bring her to dinner at our house Friday night.”

  “That’d be another ‘hell no’.”

  “Why not?” At Aaron’s droll expression, Edward rolled his eyes. “You seriously think I’d do this for fun?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’d be wrong.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Okay, maybe for a little bit of fun, but also to help my mate get a girl.”

  “I’ve had no problem getting a girl in the past.”

  “Yeah, but this girl is different.”

  “Is that right?”

  “You’ve never dated a scammer before.”

  True.

  “You might need some advice.”

  “From you?”

  “Hey, don’t knock it. I’m married, you’re not. What does that tell you?”

  “That poor Kerry thought you’d knocked her up.”

  “Was that a joke?”

  “I don’t know. Was it?”

  Edward threw out one hand. “Fine, do this yourself. But you’ll mess it up, you know.”

  “I’ll risk it.”

  “So when are you asking her out?”

  “I’ve some things to take care of.”

  “I think this conversation has just gone full circle.”

  ~*~

  Business was steady. Having an actual ‘fortune teller’, as one teenager dubbed Shea, in town with her own shop attracted people looking for answers and mystical knick-knacks. The knick knacks she had plenty of, the tarot cards, crystals, sage and other things often bought by her clients after a reading. Their questions had the kind of answers Shea could supply - vague, seemingly pulled from the spiritual realm when in fact she observed her clients, their expressions as she started with either shotgun or Barnum statements. If things got too complicated she fell back on the ‘Spirit tells me only what is deemed important at this time’. Along with messages from ‘Spirit’, she also brought in messages from a deceased relative or friend - ‘a male is here, someone who passed?’ Invariably the client would come up with a male they had known who had died, and if not a male Shea would frown, ponder and say ‘definitely someone who passed…wait…I see a woman.’ Not once had anyone denied knowing someone who had passed.

  The only blight on the business was the pesky silent phone calls. Someone was getting their kicks trying to spook the mystic, but hey, it was their money they were wasting. Shea simply hung up in their ear. Maybe she should get a whistle and give it a good blast, make the unknown caller’s eardrum ring a bit. Worth looking into.

  No need to tell Aaron about the phone calls which she’d denied having when Gail, one of his security agents, had called in several times to ask. The man took things way too seriously. If she panicked every time a crank call came through she might as well pack up the business and leave. She’d come too far to give in to an idiot.

  The week passed at a steady pace, Friday coming around with another late night. Not only did she shut at nine o’clock but she also had a reading to do at a wealthy client’s house. Yes, she knew the client’s name and where they lived, but they also had several friends attending as well so she wouldn’t know everything beforehand.

  Cole, on the other hand, thought they had a head-start. In preparation he did a background check on the client, looking for information on who they were often acquainted with, what sports they did, what charities and who they attended with, pretty much anything he could glean from the internet and social media.

  The boy was a genius. A scary genius.

  The shop was empty and Shea walked into the house to go to the bathroom. Coming back, she stopped at the kitchen to get a drink. As she shut the ‘fridge Cole walked in from his computer room holding several sheets of paper which he handed to her.

  “What’s all this?” She looked at them. They were print-outs with photos and information.

  “This is your head start for tonight.” He looked pleased.

  “Ah.” Placing the drink on the table, she riffled through the papers. “These are friends?”

  “Yep.” Standing beside her, he pointed at a photo of six people. “These are close friends of theirs. The next page,” he flipped over the sheet, “are their details - where they work, their friends, any deaths in the families, etc. Next,” he flipped another page, “their relatives with the details of who they married, deaths, children, the usual. Holidays and stuff.” He grinned. “Even got some personal info that you can throw around that no one could possibly know.”

  “No one?” She eyed her brother.

  “Apart from every friend on social media.”

  “Geez. A secret on the internet is no secret, is it?”

  “Hey, you post it, it’s out there forever. Unless the wor
ld blows up, then it won’t matter.”

  Holy cow, some of the information was a little risqué. “Are you sure several of these are on social media?”

  “Social media is the best way to get personal information. Some people post everything about their lives on there, it’s not hard to get some pretty personal stuff.”

  “All of this on social media.” Shea shook her head.

  “Of a sort.”

  That had her gaze shifting to Cole. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing!” Lifting his hands, he spread his fingers wide. “It’s all perfectly legit, I promise.”

  “Cole-”

  “I swear.” He winked. “Nothing there that can get us into trouble.”

  “You think?” She pointed to one particular statement. “I am not even going to hint at that.”

  Taking a peek, he grinned. “Got that from his daughter’s mobile.”

  “She showed you?”

  “I might have peeked over her shoulder.”

  “Cole!”

  “Take a chill pill, sis, I’m kidding.”

  Shea rolled her eyes.

  “She was carrying it in her skirt pocket and when she bent down to grab some stuff it fell out without her noticing it. I picked it up and happened to see it was a message from one of those possibly attending the reading tonight, so I read a little further and found out that juicy bit of gossip.” He finally noticed her expression. “What?”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Really? Because we spy on people a lot.”

  “It’s not spying,” she retorted sharply.

  “Shea, this is what we do.”

  “Me. This is what I do.”

  “You do the ‘readings’.” He made air quotes with his fingers. “I do the quick research and feed the information back to you. It’s what we do.”

  Damn it, it was, but this - prying into someone’s phone - that was a whole other ball game.

  “The internet is open game.” She sought to make him understand. “Social media, people posting things, articles, but we’ve never resorted to checking people’s mobile messages.”

  “It’s no big deal.” He shrugged. “Social media, their mobiles, it’s all sharing and there for anyone to find if they want to.”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  “Seriously, why are you getting your knickers in a knot? People stand around talking on their mobiles all the time, everyone can hear their personal business. Glancing at a mobile screen isn’t much different.”

  “It is very different.” Annoyed and a little disturbed, Shea folded her arms. “No more.”

  His expression immediately went wary. “No more what?”

  “No more looking at people’s mobiles.”

  “Cripes, this is the first time.” He paused when she raised one eyebrow. “It is.” At her narrowed eyes he blew out a long, exasperated breath. “Fine, I’ve done it a couple of times, but it’s because some of the kids from my school come here, all right? You need to know something to bring them in.”

  “I can deal with them, Cole. I’ve done it plenty of times before and I can do it plenty of more times without you invading their personal privacy.”

  That annoyed him. “Isn’t that what we do? Invade people’s privacy?”

  “Not like that.” She placed the sheaf of papers on the table.

  Sitting up from where he’d been snoozing Sphinx-style on one of the dining chairs, Carrot squinted over the edge of the table at the papers.

  “We find out stuff and you feed bits to them,” Cole argued. “This is just one step further.”

  “And we know what one step further can result in.”

  They looked at each other, Shea hoping he understood, Cole with growing irritation.

  “Guess you don’t need this information then.” He made a grab for the papers.

  “No!” She caught his arm. “I mean…”

  Challengingly, Cole looked at her.

  Hating herself, Shea said, “I’m a hypocrite, I know. I admit it. I need this information.”

  The challenging look switched to smug triumph.

  “But,” she added sharply, “no more information from sneaking it from people’s mobiles.”

  “It’s really no-”

  “Cole!”

  “Fine,” he agreed sullenly.

  Shit. It was times like this that had Shea rubbing her brow in vexation. Cole was in the wrong, she was in the wrong. Great example you are, Shea.

  “Guess I’ll just sit around and wait until you’re at your client’s place and give me the go-ahead to start searching the internet for their information.” Cole dug the knife in a little further.

  Shea’s teeth clenched.

  Carrot reached out with one paw and patted the papers.

  Placing her hand flat on the paper to prevent him from pulling it away, Shea tried again. “I’m grateful for this, I appreciate what you’re doing. But how would you like it if someone looked at the messages on your mobile in comparison to reading your info on the ‘net?”

  “Our info is already on the ‘net,” he snapped back. “All they have to do is know who to look for.” With that he stalked back to his room.

  With a sigh, Shea looked at Carrot who now had both front paws on the table. He looked up at her and meowed.

  “I’m a shit sister,” she told him. “It’s times like this I realise I’m not a mother.”

  It was also when she missed her parents the most.

  Before she could go to Cole and try to make peace, the shop bell rang alerting the arrival of another client.

  Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders, plastered on her serene expression and walked through to the front. On the way she passed the computer room. The door was shut, Cole no doubt hunched angrily over his beloved computers.

  The next few hours gave her time to study the information Cole had researched in-between the trickle of customers. It was informative, done dot form to save time and help her memorise bits easier.

  The boy might be a scary genius at times, but he cared about her just as she cared about him. If only she could get through to him that there was a huge difference between free information and prying.

  By the time she’d locked the door behind the last customer Cole was back to talking to her, albeit in a subdued way which was his way of trying to make her feel guilty.

  She did feel guilty, but not for standing her ground. It was what she was doing to him that was twisting her up inside, doubts plaguing her as they often did at night. Daylight was for certainty, nights for doubts.

  But tonight wasn’t the time. She needed a shower to freshen up, a change of clothes, a quick snack on an apple and head out to the reading. Besides which, talking to Cole now wouldn’t work, he was in no frame of mind to listen. Hopefully he’d absorb what she’d said overnight.

  Calling out a quick ‘goodbye’, she went out to the car, sliding her ear bud in place as she sat behind the driver’s wheel. Backing out, she noticed a Wells Security SUV pull into the driveway of Aaron’s business.

  Turning onto the road, she started driving to her client’s house.

  Thoughts of Cole were replaced by thoughts of Aaron.

  Cripes, she could still taste his kiss, feel it - masculine, masterful as he took control, held her close, demanded her compliance, swept inside her mouth to leave his taste...and geez, he tasted as good as he looked, as mysterious as he sometimes was, leaving her wanting more. A little more.

  Hell, a lot more.

  A sudden spray of goose bumps shivered up her arms beneath the lacy sleeves, a coil of delicious nerves twisting low in the pit of her stomach at just the memory of him drawing her up against him. The man could kiss. He could hold. He could make her go a little giddy, no doubt about it.

  But he hadn’t pursued it further, hadn’t rung her nor come to see her since, so maybe it had been just a spur of the moment thing. Probably, in this age of equality, she could simply ask him out
.

  Shea laughed softly in self-derision. Yeah, right. What if he wasn’t as attracted to her as he’d appeared? A man like Aaron - mysterious, calm, shrewd, good-looking - undoubtedly had girls eager to come to him at a click of his fingers. One look out of those steady eyes and women would be eager to please him.

  That last thought had her a little hot and flustered. Pleasing Aaron Wells? She had no doubt he’d please her. If he was bothered, which, apparently, he wasn’t. If he’d wanted to take it further he’d have come knocking. No knocking. Aaron Wells wasn’t interested.

  Here was a humiliating thought - maybe he thought her kissing sucked, and not in a good way.

  The delicious nerves coiling inside her shrivelled almost instantly leaving her feeling stupid. What would a man like Aaron want with someone like her? They were total opposites, the biggest being their professions. A con artist and a straight shooter didn’t make for good bed mates.

  Regret kindled but she shrugged it off as the open gates to the elegant house set well back came into view. Pulling in beside several expensive-looking cars parked to one side near the house, Shea got out, locked the car door, straightened her clothes, slipped the keys into a small black purse. Reaching up, she touched the ear bud. “I’m here.”

  “Gotcha,” Cole’s voice replied.

  Showtime.

  She didn’t have time to ring the bell at the top of the wide staircase. The door opened and her client, Janice, stepped back eagerly. “Come in, Stella.”

  Smiling serenely, Shea stepped past her into the shining brilliance of an entry that was done in blinding white - white floor tiles, white walls, white lilies in a white vase, pretty but ineffectual stool on spindly gold legs. Even the photo frames were white. The only bits of colour were the gold legs of the stool and the gold trimming of the oval mirror directly opposite the door.

  Catching sight of her reflection, Shea did a quick tally. False eyelashes, bright red lipstick, hair curling loosely over her shoulders in big waves to cover the ear bud through which Cole would feed her information. The gown was similar to that she’d worn at Elspeth Arkwell’s gathering, just a different colour - a long lilac gown beneath a purple tunic with black lace at the ends of the elbow-length sleeves and the hem. Again, one bottom section of the tunic was gathered with a single black, silk rose. One thing she’d learned was that similar clothing produced a feeling of familiarity to clients, and that in turn produced trust.