Copper Beach

“We’ve got company.”

    Newton regarded Sam with an expression of grave misgivings.

    “I’m with her,” Sam said.

    “Generally speaking, he doesn’t bite,” Abby said.

    “You don’t have to make that sound like a character flaw,” Sam said.

    Newton was on the small side, but that was about all he had in common with the typical condo dog, which, in Sam’s experience, tended to come in two versions: tiny, white and fluffy or chunky pug. Newton was a condo-sized version of a junkyard dog.

    “Where did you get him?” Sam asked.

    “The animal shelter.” Abby gave Newton an affectionate smile. “It was love at first sight, wasn’t it, Newton?”

    Newton spared her a brief glance, acknowledging his name. Then he turned his attention back to Sam.

    Sam set the leather duffel bag on the floor, crouched and extended his hand toward Newton. The dog tilted his head slightly to the side and pricked up his ears. He sniffed Sam’s hand and then condescended to allow himself to be patted a few times.

    “Congratulations,” Abby said. She slipped out of her coat and turned to hang it on the red enamel coat tree. “Newton approves of you. He doesn’t take to everyone.”

    Sam got to his feet. “I think it’s more a case of tolerating me.”

    “Well, yes, but at least he doesn’t look like he’s going to go for your throat.”

    “He’s a condo dog,” Sam said. “The most he could go for is my ankle.”

    Abby glared. “Do not, under any circumstances, underestimate Newton. He picks up on vibes in the atmosphere. He knows when he’s being insulted.”

    Sam looked at Newton. “Is that so?”

    Newton gave a disdainful little snort and trotted off down the hall.

    Sam looked at Abby. “Since your guard dog has decided to allow me over the threshold, is it okay if I take off my coat?”

    Abby flushed. “Yes, of course. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon.”

    “I got that impression.”

    He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to her. When she took it from him, her fingers brushed against his, sending an intimate little thrill of awareness across his senses. He knew she felt the small flash because her brilliant eyes widened slightly in surprise. She gave him a startled look and then just as swiftly looked away.

    She hung his jacket on the coat tree and led the way down the short hall to the living and dining area.

    A few minutes ago, Gwen Frazier had discreetly vanished in a cab to her own apartment a couple of blocks away. Sam had felt the energy shiver in the atmosphere when Abby had introduced him to her friend. He was fairly certain that Gwen had used some talent to make a judgment call. She had evidently decided that Abby was safe with him, at least for now, because she had not tried to hang around.

    Things were looking up, he decided. He had managed to get through two lines of defense tonight, the protective friend and the protective dog. He was on a roll.

    “Your friend is also a talent, isn’t she?” he asked.

    “Yes. Gwen is a psychic counselor. She does aura readings in a shop in the market.”

    “Aura readings. Right.”

    Abby gave him a severe look. “I know what you’re thinking.”

    “Do you?”

    “You think Gwen is using her talent to con people. For the record, she doesn’t do fortune-telling or palm-reading. And she certainly doesn’t pretend to talk to the dead. She really can read auras. Her clients come to her for advice and guidance. She analyzes their energy fields and tells them what she sees and makes recommendations. She’s a kind of therapist.”

    “Got it.”

    Abby sighed. “I’m probably overreacting here. It’s just that so many people think Gwen is a fraud. Storefront psychics aren’t exactly held in high esteem by psychologists and traditional counselors. Would you like some herbal tea? I’d offer coffee, but I don’t drink it at night, at least not lately.”

    And that was all the information he was going to get on Gwen Frazier, he thought. “Tea will be fine. Thanks.”

    “I’ll get the water started.” She hesitated, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do with him. “Please, sit down.”

    He studied his options. The condo was small, but it was a corner unit with an open, flowing floor plan. The walls were a sunny Mediterranean gold with dark brown accents. The floors were hardwood. There were two area rugs decorated with modernistic designs in