The Spirit Tree by Kathryn M. Hearst

Author:Kathryn M. Hearst [Hearst, Kathryn M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BluA
Publisher: Kindle Press
Published: 2016-07-11T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 31

The drive over was by far the most uncomfortable fifteen minutes of my life. Aaron followed in his own car, leaving Bryson and me alone.

“You should have done the forgetting spell,” Bryson said.

“He’s fine.”

“We’ll see. If you get excited and shift—”

“I have it under control.” I didn’t believe for a second I had it under control, but I didn’t want to talk about it.

“Deep breathing helps. If you feel yourself slipping, take my hand. I can help.”

“I said I have it under control.”

“I felt your energy change when you and Aaron were at Dottie’s.”

I turned to face him. “What do you mean you felt my energy change?”

“You almost lost it.” He pulled into the driveway behind Aaron.

“But I didn’t. I reined it in before I lost control.”

“Try to keep your clothes on around Aaron until you get used to your new powers.” Bryson opened the door.

Samuels stepped out of an unmarked police cruiser when Bryson got out of the car. Aaron grasped Samuels’s shoulder and smiled. Aaron and Samuels had an easy friendship, like mine and Hailey’s. I climbed from the car beside Bryson, and the mood changed. Samuels hooked his thumbs around his front pockets and rocked back on his heels. I expected Bryson to glare. Instead, he grinned. Samuels must have taken the grin as a challenge, because he took a step toward Bryson. Aaron turned and strode to the front door, breaking the tension, but not before Samuels gave me a dirty look.

I whispered to Bryson, “Stop it.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Bryson chuckled under his breath. Evidently, he’d won the standoff. I’d never understand men. All the psychology classes in the world couldn’t explain their behavior.

The entire exchange irritated me. I marched into the house and stopped inside the foyer. To my left was a family room, and to my right was the kitchen. I turned to leave, when Bryson whispered into my ear, “Breathe and focus.”

I nodded and caught Aaron and Samuels staring at us. “Am I allowed to touch things?”

Samuels made a sweeping motion. “Have at it.”

Aaron added, “The scene has been processed. Touch whatever you want.”

Samuels coughed and pulled Aaron into the hall. The two whispered back and forth, their voices too low to make out what they were saying. I guessed I was the topic of conversation.

I took a centering breath and stepped into the kitchen. When nothing happened, I tried to relax. Unsure of how to go about this, I ran my fingertips over the granite countertops and caught bits and pieces of images of the technicians dusting for prints.

I touched the refrigerator door—nothing. From the vision, I knew the killer had opened the cabinet under the sink. I caught a flash of black leather when I touched the knob.

I called to the detectives, “Did he wear gloves?” Their conversation had grown louder, but I’d tuned them out. “Aaron, did you find prints here?”

“No. Not in the kitchen.”

I wrapped my hand around the knob and opened the cabinet door. I saw the killer reach for a garbage bag.

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