Kathleen Creighton - Danger Signals

"I'm sorry."

He drove now as he often did, she'd noticed, when he was moved, or emotional about something: with his window down, elbow on the sill and his hand over his mouth. But the emotions, whatever they were, were shielded from her.

Her lips, where he'd kissed her, felt cold, and she touched them with her fingertips to warm them.

"Jeannette is the only family I've ever known," she said softly.

"You told me about your mother-she left when you were three, right?" He glanced at her as she nodded. "Kind of a lousy thing to do to a kid."

"I suppose so…although I've never been angry with her about it. Partly because I was able to empathize with her, thanks to Gran's connection. Neither of us blamed my mother. I know Gran didn't. She blamed herself."

"How so?"

"Well…to understand that I think you'd have to have known Jeannette the way she was back then. She was so beautiful, so full of life-a young Maureen O'Hara, people said. And in Hollywood in those days, that was saying something."

"Hollywood?"

"Yes-that's where she lived then."

"You're kidding."

"No, seriously. It's where my mother grew up. I was born there."

"I thought your grandmother was Irish-old country Irish, I mean."

"Oh. she is. Definitely. She moved to the United States after my grandfather was killed-her husband, I just found out," she added with some chagrin, still feeling hurt that her grandmother had kept such an important part of her history from her. "I always thought she was a single mother-it did seem to run in our family-and that she'd left Ireland to avoid the shame of an out-of-wedlock baby.

Not so, apparently. She was married after all, and her husband's name was Tommy. He died fighting the British in Northern Ireland.

"Anyway-where was I? Oh yes…my mother, Isabella. I suspect it's not easy being the daughter of a beautiful mother."

"So…your mother wasn't? Beautiful, I mean."

"Oh, she was. From the photos I've seen of her, she was a very pretty woman. But I'm sure she went through awkward stages, and by the time she was in her teens, she had a definite self-image problem. Compared to Jeannette Izzy didn't feel pretty. She lacked the sparkle, the vivacious personality that made my grandmother light up a whole room-wherever she went, every eye would be on her. Poor Izzy…"

Wade glanced at her. then back at the street ahead, his smile wry. "I think I can guess the rest. She's ripe for the first guy that comes along who pays attention to her instead of her mother. He tells her she's pretty, and next thing you know, she's pregnant. And he, being the kind of guy who tells a woman whatever it takes to get her into bed. is long gone by the time you make your appearance." He paused, frowning. "Sad old story, but it sure as hell doesn't justify abandoning her kid."

"Ah." said Tierney softly, "but you're forgetting the worst part. The Gift."

Another quick glance. "She had it, too? Your mother?"

"No-that was the problem. She didn't. So, Izzy's cursed with a mother who's not only a great beauty, but a psychic on top of it. It must have been just awful for her. And then, when her own child started showing signs…"

"At three? Isn't that kind of young to be doing… whatever it is you do?"

"Oh, I was much younger than that, probably. I think by the time I was three she had gotten to the point where she'd had enough of it."

"And you haven't seen or heard from her since?"

Tierney shook her head. "I like to think she found someone…someone she could be happy with. I always imagine her that way-happy."

"You ever miss her? When you were a kid, I mean." His voice was unexpectedly gruff, and she looked at him for a long moment before she replied.

"I don't remember missing her. I was always closer to my grandmother, even before my mother left. That's what's so sad. And why I'm not angry with her for going. Why Jeannette and I…we've always blamed ourselves rather than her."

He didn't answer, and his profile was hard to read in the changing light of the streetlamps they passed. She wanted to know whether he understood…whether he judged. But she couldn't feel him. Knowing she shouldn't, she reached out to him with her mind…probing his shields. Just for a moment.

What she felt made her gasp.

He threw her a look and said. "What?"

She shook her head and said. "Nothing." And was glad of the dim light that would hide the flush she felt flooding her cheeks, her face. Her whole body.

"Miss Tee," he said softly, "don't do that." And then he melted her heart by adding, "Please."

She gazed straight ahead while the tears pooled-she dared not blink. "I don't think I can describe it," she whispered. "I've never felt anything like it before."

"Where did it come from-this thing you felt?" She didn't have to look at him to know he was frowning.

"I don't know," she said, lying.

"Your grandmother? My stalker? Have anything to do with our case?"

"No…" She turned to look over her shoulder, realizing they were on her street.

Wade turned sharply, pulled into an empty parking spot and stopped.

"We're going to tackle this logically." he said, shifting in the seat to face her. "Look, I doubt your grandmother just wandered around the apartment until she accidently happened to end up outside. Especially since you said it happened quickly. She must have thought she was going somewhere. In her mind she had a purpose, some reason she felt she needed to leave. Maybe she thought she was going…I don't know, grocery shopping? Is there someplace nearby she might have been accustomed to going before she got sick, someplace she'd go on foot, maybe?"

"Her hairdresser," Tierney said slowly, staring at him. "Her salon used to be just up the street-about four blocks from here. Jeannette had a standing appointment for a wash and set every Friday. For years."

Wade shrugged. "Today's Friday."

"Yes, but I don't see-she doesn't have any idea what day it is. Except-"

"Except… what?"

"Every once in a while she'll have a moment-it's kind of like a shaft of sunlight breaking through on a cloudy day. you know? A moment of lucidity. It never lasts very long, but…oh. Wade." The tears spilled over again and she wiped at them without much effect. "What if she did? The salon isn't even there anymore. I think it's a flower shop now. And that late it would have been closed anyway. Oh, poor Jennie…" She covered her mouth with her hand to smother a shuddering sob.

Wade was already pulling back onto the street. '"We'll find her," he said gruffly. "Hang in there, sweetheart."

She nodded, sniffed, and wasn't surprised when Wade handed her his handkerchief. She'd understood the endearment, too, understood it was just his nature to comfort and protect. She wondered if it was something he'd been born with, or if he'd learned from the person-whoever it was- who'd comforted and protected him as a child… the one in his dreams.

"There-that's it. That's where her hairdresser used to be." Tierney sat up and twisted around to look as they cruised past the florist's shop that had once been a beauty salon. Then, as she sank back in disappointment. "I don't see her. It was too much to hope for, I suppose. Oh. poor Gran." Her voice broke and she finished in a whisper. "She must have been so confused."

Wade was cruising slowly, now, while they both scanned the shadows in doorways and between parked cars for anything that might have been a huddled human form. A block or so farther on he turned right and they found themselves in a residential neighborhood surrounding a city park. He slowed the car to a crawl.

"That park up there. Did you check it out?"

She nodded and replied in a choked voice. "Several times."