Sizzle and Burn

demurely.
    “Does Jones know what you do?”
    “Yes. Guess what? It doesn’t creep him out.”
    Bradley had the grace to redden. “I said some stuff that night that I didn’t mean, okay?”
    “You meant it, all right.”
    She watched Zack take his coffee and muffin out into the adjoining lobby.
    “Look,” Bradley said, very earnest now, “even if our personal relationship wasn’t meant to be, it doesn’t follow that you and I can’t still work together. We’re a team, Raine.”
    The urgency that was vibrating from him was starting to make her curious. Bradley usually did the laid-back, wise-cracking, macho-detective thing very well. For the sake of her ego, it would have been pleasant to believe that he was wildly jealous of Zack but she was almost certain that was not the case. There was no doubt but that he had been alarmed to find her with another man this morning but she was sure it wasn’t because he had suddenly discovered that he wanted her, after all.
    “I don’t know about that,” she said quietly. “I’ve been under a lot of stress lately because of my aunt’s death.”
    “I know,” he said quickly. “But work can be excellent therapy.”
    “I need time to clear my thoughts and consider what I want to do next. Also, something else has come up. What with one thing and another, I’m just not ready to go back to working with you. Not for a while, at any rate.”
    He gripped the edge of the table with both hands. “Damn it, Raine, there isn’t time for you to think it over. I’ve got a new cold case.”
    She was starting to get curious now. She had never seen him this tense, not even when he was about to make an arrest.
    She picked up the teapot and refilled her cup. “What’s the rush? By definition, there’s no great urgency about a cold case.”
    “That’s not how the families of the victims look at it,” he said, righteous indignation ringing in every word. “Some people have died waiting for justice.”
    In spite of her determination, guilt twisted inside her. “I realize that.”
    Satisfied that he had scored a point, his expression softened. “I’m sorry to put pressure on you like this. I realize your aunt’s death hit you hard and that you’ve got your hands full dealing with her estate. But I’m in a bind here.”
    Now they were getting to the heart of the problem.
    “Define bind ,” she said.
    He exhaled heavily. “Here’s the deal, honey—”
    She raised her teaspoon as though it were a magic wand. “Don’t ever call me honey.”
    “The thing is, this new cold case is very important. I need your help.”
    “What makes this particular case more important than any of the others?”
    He glanced around the room a second time to make certain they were not being overheard and then leaned forward again and lowered his voice.
    “Cassidy came up with this great idea for the book,” he said.
    She put the spoon down on the saucer. It made a nice little clatter.
    “Cassidy Cutler,” she said. “I should have seen that coming.”
    “Just hear me out, okay?” Bradley pleaded. “She wants to follow me through the process of closing a cold case from start to finish. We took a look at some of the files together and picked one that is tailor-made for you.”
    She choked on her tea. “For me ?”
    “Us,” he amended swiftly. “It’s a case that is ideally suited to your kind of, uh, observations and insights.”
    Observations and insights was his politically correct term for the clues she uncovered with her psychic abilities. After working together for more than a year he still couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge that what she possessed was a true paranormal talent.
    “Forget it,” she said flatly. “I don’t want to be in your book.”
    “Why not?” he demanded.
    “For starters, I’d lose my anonymity. Oriana isn’t New York or LA. I wouldn’t be invisible there. The very last thing I want is for people in town to point me out on the street and whisper that I hear voices in my head.”
    “It would be great publicity for your business.”
    “Are you kidding? People will say that I’m crazy like my aunt. I don’t need that kind of publicity, trust me. I want to be able to shop or attend the monthly meetings of the Oriana Business Association without worrying about what folks are whispering behind my back.”
    “Okay, okay,” he said, raising a hand, palm out.
    “Do you know what people here in Shelbyville called my aunt? They said she