Shadow of Danger by Kristine Mason

ache. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He’d only wanted her off the case so they could focus on whatever evidence they had.
    “This isn’t a good idea.” She waved a hand toward the ME’s building. “I should skip this and head back to the diner. I’ve got some paperwork to look over, payroll to do and—”
    “Celeste.” He turned in his seat and took off his sunglasses. When she met his gaze, he had the sudden urge to believe in her. Maybe because of the strange connection he’d felt the moment he’d touched her at the diner, or maybe it was the way she stared at him. So trusting, so unsure. Whatever it was, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “No one is making you do this, but if you don’t, won’t you always wonder?”
    “I would,” she answered, “but what if I’m wrong? What if I can’t get a reading off the necklace?” She shook her head. “I’d look like a fool, make Roy look like one, too, and waste valuable time.”
    She drew out her cell phone from her purse. “I’m going to call Lloyd and see if he could give me a ride back to my car.”
    The fucking Viking. A splinter of jealousy fissured, and before it could completely crack his judgment, a thought occurred to him. If she quit now, Roy would question him, or her for that matter. Either way, the sheriff would figure out that he’d been the one to plant the seeds of doubt, then rat him out to Ian. Who knows what would happen from there. He sure as hell didn’t because he hadn’t had time to piece together the connection between Roy and Ian yet.
    At the same time, despite his disbelief in the supernatural, he wanted her to walk away from this feeling as if she’d made a difference. Something told him that she’d need the reassurance. To know that she mattered.
    “What if you do pick up something by touching the victim’s necklace?” he asked, even as his mind screamed you had her right where you wanted her —doubting. Ignoring logic, he spoke from the heart, encouraged by the way her eyes began to brighten. “Think about the families, heartsick and devastated by their loss. What you may or may not see might not solve this case, but it could give us an insight into the killer or the victim herself. It might lead us to something the evidence doesn’t.”
    She searched his eyes with suspicion. “I thought you didn’t believe in using psychics.” 
    Smiling, he said honestly, “I don’t, but if you have this gift, then use it. Prove me wrong. Don’t run away just because you don’t understand why the pieces of the puzzle aren’t coming together.” He broadened his smile at the irony of his own unsolved puzzle with Roy and Ian. “If I did that, I wouldn’t have a job. I might have to come work for you at The Sugar Shack. Maybe do the dishes for a piece of that cheesecake you were telling me about.”
    Celeste studied him for a moment. He had her head spinning in circles. First he made her doubt herself, now he encouraged her to prove him wrong. If she walked away, she would always wonder if she could have helped with the investigation. Especially if they ran into a dead end and the murders were left unsolved. Knowing she had a tendency to over think, if she did as she’d suggested, and had Lloyd cart her away, she’d stew. She’d regret. She’d always wonder.
    “So?” He raised his shoulders, then jerked his head toward the building. “Are you in?”
    Encouraged, yet still confused by his turn around, she nodded, and opened the door. “Yeah, and by the way if you did the dishes, I’d throw in a cup of coffee, too.”
    He climbed out of his seat, and met her around the front end of the car. “Aren’t you generous?”
    “I’m a fair boss,” she said, then drew in a shaky breath, as she hesitated at the bottom of the concrete steps leading to the double wide doors of the morgue. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to look like a fool. 
    He grasped her elbow. “Prove me wrong,” he whispered in