Protector of One

She placed everything on a serving tray, and returned to the living room, setting it down on the coffee table.

“Wow,” he said appreciatively as he eyed the cheesecake. “Did you make this?”

“I get cravings for things like this sometimes. Besides, it’s always good to have something like this on hand for visitors.”

He smiled as she passed him a plate. “I need to drop by more often.”

She laughed, inordinately pleased by the idea. “Just let me know if you mean that. I’ll make sure not to run out of desserts.”

He dug in with relish and complimented her generously. She sat back in her rocker, nibbling at her own slice, enjoying herself for the first time that day. The shadows that had haunted her had dispelled as if Adrian had brought light with him.

Life went on, she thought. Even when terrible things happened, people had to continue living. It was a hardlearned lesson, after her friends died in the accident. Sometimes she still felt guilty, very guilty, despite her experience of the light and her absolute conviction that her friends had gone to a far, far better place.

“Life has its charms,” she said, before she realized she was going to speak out loud.

He looked at her with an arched brow. “It does,” he agreed.

But she detected some kind of hesitancy in the way he said it, a hesitation that convinced her he carried his share of ghosts, too. Maybe that’s why he had gently steered her to talk about her near-death experience. Maybe he needed some kind of reassurance.

He rose suddenly, placing his plate and mug on the tray. “Can I carry this out to the kitchen for you?”

“No, no thanks. It’s not a problem.”

“It’s time for me to be getting home,” he said. “Tomorrow’s going to be another long day.”

“Yes.” She nodded and stood, wondering why his mood had changed so abruptly.

He started toward the front door, then paused and looked back, his gray eyes serious. “Let us know if you sense anything else. Please.”

The request surprised her, but what it hinted at made her shiver. “I hope I never sense another thing.”

“I can sure understand why.” He nodded, opened the door and disappeared into the dark evening as the door closed firmly behind him.

Kerry remained standing, ignoring an urge to get a sweater, thinking over his visit. It had been odd, she realized, about something other than what she had reported earlier.

But whatever had brought him, she was glad he had stopped by.

She heard the heat kick on, and as she carried the tray back to the kitchen, felt the first musty stirrings of hot air.

Time to put it all behind her, she decided. Today needed to be put on the shelf along with the other mysteries of her life, such as why she had survived an accident that had killed her two best friends.

Some questions just couldn’t be answered.

Hours later, after a long, aimless drive, Adrian climbed out of his car in front of the small clapboard house he now called home. Around him spread the small ranch he had bought with his savings just before he retired with disability from the DCI.

The night, undisturbed by city lights, boasted a sky so strewn with stars that it looked like a black sea into which someone had tossed millions of diamonds. The swath of the Milky Way could be seen clearly, and its misty glow provided the answer to why the ancients had often believed it to be a heavenly river.

He loved it out here. The scent of sage and grass out-performed any aromatherapy. The minute he smelled the cool fragrant air, he always felt at peace.

He tried to soak up that feeling now, before entering his house, hoping to banish the day’s images of mayhem. Trying to think of something pleasant.

Cheesecake. Yeah, that was pleasant. Good coffee, a cute schoolteacher…

But as soon as he tried to summon the images, reality called him back. Change that to unnerved and unnerving schoolteacher, pretty or not. For the first time he considered the possibility that being psychic could be real and, worse, it could be awful.

He’d had so-called psychics try to provide information before on his cases. On the rare occasions when they were right, no one knew until they’d developed the information through ordinary means anyway. As a result, he hadn’t given the idea much thought over the years.

All that had changed in a few heart-stopping moments this evening when Kerry Tomlinson had described several unique aspects of the crime scene, aspects that couldn’t have been known to her. Then she had said the bodies had been positioned to send a misleading message.

That statement drew him up short, because it was exactly what he had been thinking about the carefully posed bodies. Something he couldn’t prove without a confession, something that on the face of it was a stretch.

Yet she had spoken his own impression aloud, an impression that he had shared only with Gage.

Impossible.

Except that when he looked up at the night sky, he sensed a universe that brimmed with possibilities that no one had yet imagined. Standing with his head tipped back, looking up at billions of suns, millions of which might have planets, hundreds of thousands of which might have life, he couldn’t deny any possibility.

Certainly not after today.

Of course, he’d given up on the whole idea of anything being impossible when he’d discovered his own partner at DCI had turned on him. The last person on earth he would have ever expected to betray him. If that could happen, anything could.

Then, on the still night air, he heard two pops from far away. He froze, listening intently, wondering if they had been gunshots.

There could be so many reasons for someone to shoot at this time of night. This was ranch country. An injured or sick animal might need putting down. A coyote might have been preying on someone’s sheep or chickens. So many legitimate reasons.

But something made him turn around and get back in his truck anyway.

Kerry turned in the damp sheets, eyes flittering to and fro beneath closed eyelids, her muscles rigid as if fighting to wake her…

“I’m starting to get really worried,” Leah said to Georgia. “The guys should have joined us by now.”

Georgia leaned closer to the campfire, seeking its warmth. “I didn’t think it was going to get so cold so quickly.”

“Georgia!”

Georgia looked up, smiling. “Cut it out, Leah. You’re driving me crazy. The minute you put Hank and Bill into the woods, they turn into Lewis and Clark. We don’t have to get back until Sunday, and neither of them is going to quit until they explore a cave or something. You know that.”

Leah rubbed her jersey-clad arms. Her down vest ordinarily proved sufficient, but not tonight for some reason. “Something’s wrong. I know it.”

Georgia reached for a stick and poked at the fire, stirring up sparks, causing flames to leap higher. “Well, we can’t leave the camp. They won’t know where to look for us. So you’re just going to have to relax until Sunday.”

Leah finally quit pacing and came to sit on one of the dead logs they used as benches by the fire. “They always do this,” she remarked.

“Exactly.” Georgia smiled at her friend. “Every damn time. They say they’ll be back by Friday so we can spend the weekend together, and they never make it. So relax. It just gives us more time for girl talk.”

Leah managed a tight smile. “How many years have we been doing these trips?”

“Well, I know this is our eighth trip, and we always go twice a year so…” Georgia shook her head. “You know exactly how long we’ve been doing this. What are you trying to say?”