“Look over there.”

“Who is it?”

“Lori Newman, the new Broadway sensation,” Leslie said, smiling. But then she grew serious. “Joe…I know this sounds strange, but I’m absolutely convinced Genevieve O’Brien is alive.”

“I feel it, too. That’s exactly why I’m so frustrated. I don’t believe that she’s going to stay alive much longer. That’s why I’ve got to find her soon, before he…” His voice trailed off as he considered the cost of failure.

“It isn’t Brad. Trust me, along with everything else, he really isn’t clever enough to pull something like this off.”

Joe actually smiled.

Leslie hesitated. “I saw her, Joe. Tonight.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It was strange. When I touched Eileen’s hand tonight…” She stopped, wincing. “I saw her…in a vision, I guess you’d say. She was alive. But she was desperately trying to do something…escape, maybe. She had to give up. She didn’t have the strength to keep going.”

He just stared at her. “You…had a vision?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what it was, exactly. But tonight, when I touched Eileen, it was almost as if I could reach out and touch Genevieve.”

“If only you could,” he mused softly.

“May I take that picture? The one you showed me with her—and Brad—in it?” Leslie asked. “I’m sure you have other copies.”

He nodded. “Sure.”

Adam and Nikki reappeared, and they headed outside as a group.

“Think that kid is coming back with your car?” Nikki teased Joe.

“Sure hope so.”

But the young man, who in fact worked for the hotel, returned the car in less than two minutes. Traffic was light, and the drive back to Hastings House was quick.

Despite Adam and Nikki’s presence, Joe came inside with them. Leslie was surprised when he walked through the house, upstairs and downstairs, then went back to the servants’ pantry and down to the basement.

Adam and Nikki had already gone upstairs to get settled. Leslie waited for him in the servants’ pantry. As she did, she looked around. It was amazing. If she hadn’t been here herself when the room exploded into fire and splinters, she would never suspect now that any such thing had ever happened.

Joe came back up the stairs.

“Empty?”

“To my eyes,” he said quietly.

Hands on his hips, he turned away from her, staring thoughtfully at the hatch. She stood behind him, slipping her arms around him, leaning her head against his back.

“Thank you.”

“Hey, ma’am, anything I can do,” he murmured.

He turned. His eyes searched hers out as he lifted her chin with his thumb and forefinger. His head bent.

She thought he was going to kiss her full on the lips. She didn’t know what she felt, what she would do.

But his lips landed lightly on her forehead, instead. “Leslie, I’m begging you, for the love of God, be careful.” He backed away and looked at her. “I don’t get visions, but I do get hunches. And I feel nervous as hell right now.”

“I swear to you, I’ll be careful. And don’t forget, Nikki and Adam are here tonight,” she said.

At last, with a last brush of his lips against her forehead, he left for the night. She keyed in the alarm after he left and headed upstairs.

Adam was in the room where Joe had slept the night before. Nikki was in her room, in a big cotton nightgown, sitting up in the queen-size bed, playing with the remote control. “You must be a real celebrity,” she said. “You’ve just been on the news,” she told Leslie.

Leslie groaned. “I guess it’s out that we found bones in the basement here,” she said.

Nikki nodded. “There was just a shot of you and Matt dressed up for some kind of social event, then the story. Pretty low key, actually.”

“I’m glad.” Leslie went into the bathroom to change for the night and brush her teeth. When she emerged and crawled beneath the covers, she couldn’t help but think, Matt won’t come tonight. I know he won’t.

“You all right?” Nikki asked.

“Of course. I’m thrilled you’re here.”

Nikki smiled. “It’s just for one night. And…”

“And?”

“Joe is alive.”

“Have you seen or felt Matt in any way?” Leslie asked, feeling desperate.

“No, I’m sorry. I get hazy visions of others…but not Matt.” Nikki smiled again. “Remember what I said earlier. Entering your dreams might be Matt’s only way to contact you. And he might want you to move on.”

“I keep hearing that,” Leslie said.

“Because it’s what you have to do.”

“I do go on. I love my work. And when I can do something like bring out the truth about Elizabeth, it’s wonderful.”

Nikki nodded, then yawned. “The world is a mystery. That’s for certain.” She yawned again.

Leslie turned off the bedside lamp. “Mind if I watch TV?” she asked Nikki. “It takes my mind off…things.”

“Go right ahead.”

Despite the TV, after a little while Leslie’s eyes began to fall shut.

She slept.

Someone was out there. Watching the house.

Matt felt that he should have been able to get out there. He was actually becoming more and more convinced that eventually he would be able to. When he had sensed with such certainty that Leslie was in mortal danger, the desperation of sheer will had propelled him to her. Yes, he had been there. Yes, she had seen his face. She had felt him, helping her up from the tracks.

Joe had been there, too. Joe, with his powerful, living arms. Arms that were probably the only ones he could trust her to himself. Matt couldn’t stand her being alone with anyone anymore.

And soon he would be able to leave the house at will. He would reach the street lamp.

And he would see the watcher’s face.

But tonight…

Tonight he was upstairs in the bedroom, watching the women sleep, quiet, beautiful. Two blondes, angelic-looking. He touched Leslie’s hair with a rush of nostalgia and tenderness, and then he moved to sit on the floor, leaning against the wall, still watching.

He would stay through the night.

Leslie woke with a start.

She didn’t know what had roused her. Frowning, she saw that Nikki was still sleeping peacefully by her side.

It must have been something on the TV, she told herself.

She aimed the remote at the television and pushed the Off button, then lay back down and smiled wistfully.

“Matt? Are you here?” she breathed almost silently.

There was no answer. She thought she saw the curtain rustle; perhaps she felt a breeze. Maybe it was only because she was tired and so desperately hopeful, but in that whisper of movement she felt enfolded by love. Tenderness.

Then she bolted up to a sitting position again.

What she’d heard hadn’t been the television.

She heard it clearly now, the sound of sobbing.

Heart-wrenching tears.

Tears…

Just as she had heard them earlier…when she had seen that vision of Genevieve O’Brien.

16

I t had been a hell of a long day. Joe knew damned well that there were things Leslie hadn’t told him about her friends Adam and Nikki, just as he was sure there were plenty of things she thought and felt that she didn’t say to him. But she trusted him. And that was enough for the moment. Though he ached to hold her—and more—he kept his distance. He had to.

As soon as he got home, he looked up Harrison Investigations on the Web. The official site was bare bones, giving little but contact information, but he did find several articles. He read them all, wondering whether to be amazed, amused or irritated at the allusions to the supernatural, including several strange situations that had required the government’s intervention; situations that had been managed through Harrison Investigations. An apologetic call to a sheriff he’d worked with once in a town west of Richmond supplied him with far more of a response than he’d expected. His friend was friends with a fellow lawman, a Sheriff Stone, who was married to one of Harrison’s associates and swore by the man.

At the least, Leslie was safe for the night, Joe thought. He could get some real sleep.

But he didn’t.

He prowled back to his own basement, making a mental note to himself to make sure to do something with the music he’d found.

He went back upstairs and pulled out his copy of the picture of Betty, Genevieve and Brad, and studied it some more. When he’d first seen it, he’d been ready to drag Brad out of whatever watering hole he might have been frequenting and tear him to pieces. But Leslie had been right. He had nothing to go on here. Or not enough, anyway. No proof. He had to get a few more answers before going postal on the guy. No, before notifying the cops so they could arrest him.

He was still restless. He tried a long hot shower and lying down to watch the news, then a book. Nothing held his attention.

He was never going to sleep.

At last he rose. Hell, he’d gone several nights without sleep before in his life. He could do it again. He dressed, deciding that even though it was late, Didi and Heidi were probably still out on the streets.

Watching for a black sedan.

On his way out of the house, he paused. There, on a table by the door, was a picture of Matt. He’d been in the Middle East, reporting on the condition of the children there. He’d ridden with the Marines and had written a series of articles that chilled, tore at the heart and demanded thought. He had never been hesitant about going into danger. “Hell, Joe, if we can send our soldiers over there, you bet I’ll go. It will be an honor to ride with them.”

He’d been shot at, spat on and, his personal favorite, nearly run over by a mad camel. But the stories had been important to him. And as he’d said at the time, he’d been able to come home. Not all their countrymen would.