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  “Hey, you’re leaving early.”

  Summer gave a start and whirled around, taken completely off guard. Heat suffused her cheeks as she recognized the twenty-something guy who’d managed to walk up to the elevator without her noticing. He lived down the hall and had helped carry some boxes when she moved in. She’d gotten the sense he and his roommate partied a lot.

  He raised his hands. “Sorry, dude. Didn’t realize you didn’t hear me walk up.”

  “My fault. Lots on my mind this morning.” She wondered how long she’d been standing in front of the elevator without pressing the Down button. She pushed it now.

  “I hear you. Gotta get in early so I can take some time off. Don’t want them busting my balls for slacking, man.”

  “I hear you.” She managed a smile and tried to remember his name.

  “So, like, how you liking it here so far?” His accent was a mixture of the south and surfer boy.

  “I like it. Good location.” She pushed the Down button again.

  “Dude, so true. I mean you can, like, walk around the corner, get shit-faced, then crawl back home. What’s not to like about that?” He grinned.

  To Summer’s relief the elevator doors opened with little sound, making a reply unnecessary.

  “Nice bike you got there,” he said, once they were on their way down. “Prefer a motorcycle myself. Doesn’t seem to hinder you from, like, getting around. I see you riding to work most days. In nasty weather too. You some kind of Amazon or something?”

  She couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up past the tightness in her belly. Her? An Amazon? “Far from it. I have the right gear, so it’s not that bad.”

  “Be extra careful out there today.” He gave her a once-over. “I know you’re not a little girl, but still. Heard on the news that one turned up missing.”

  “What?” she said around the lump in the throat. “A girl? In Seneca?”

  “Can you believe it?” He seemed almost excited. “See, her grandmother didn’t notice right away. She got sick and had to go to the hospital. Nobody knew anything about the little girl being missing until last night when the grandmother was well enough to ask about her. Just before I left they said they were going to be talking to some dude who claims he saw her talking to an old guy Friday afternoon.” He smirked. “He probably just wants his fifteen minutes of fame. I guess you don’t watch the news. Don’t blame you, man. Most of it’s the same crapola over and over again.”

  “What did the girl look like?” she asked, though she didn’t really want to know.

  “Dude, it was kind of freaky ’cause she reminded me of my sister’s youngest. Blond hair and big blue eyes,” he said, patting his own blonde hair. “Not that it could be ’cause, hey, she’s in Florida right now. Hey, what’s wrong? You don’t look so good. I didn’t mean to scare you. I don’t really think you have to worry about, you know, being snatched.”

  It can’t be, she thought, tightening her grip on the bicycle handles. It can’t be. Please don’t let it be.

  “Hey. Maybe you shouldn’t, like, go in today. Stay home and chill.”

  She took a deep, steadying breath. “You’re probably right. I thought I was better.”

  “Yeah,” he said nodding. “You need anything later, just you know, give us a knock. Me and Jake’ll just be hanging close tonight. Basketball.”

  It came to her. Jay. His name is Jay. “I appreciate the offer, Jay.”

  “Any time, Summer.” He gave her a wave and stepped out when the doors opened to the bottom floor.

  She pushed the button for her floor, then held the Close Door button until the doors shut. Only then did she give in to the trembling and allow herself to lean heavily against the wall. It couldn’t be the same girl. There were plenty of girls with blonde hair and blue eyes. She’d go upstairs and turn on the TV. Then she’d see there was nothing to be concerned about. She’d see the girl was not the same one. But as the elevator ascended, her gut told her differently.

  Her cell was ringing when she opened the door to her condo. Somehow she’d forgotten to put it in her bag. She propped her bike against the sofa and was able to answer the phone despite tripping over the ottoman. “Summer.”

  “Have you seen the news?” Renny demanded.

  “No, but my neighbor told me about a missing girl. I was coming back upstairs to see if it’s her.” She crossed to the coffee table and used the remote to turn on the TV.

  “Do you think it could be?”

  “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” The wide screen was filled with the last school photo of Georgia Zackery. Her hair was neater and her smile brighter, but… Summer dropped onto the sofa and stared in disbelief.

  “Summer? Summer, are you okay?”

  “No. Really not. It’s her, Renny. It’s her.”

  “Are you sure? Take a deep breath or something and look again.”

  “I wish I wasn’t.” She closed her eyes. “I can’t handle this. I swear I can’t. She’s going to look at me and think I did it.” Fear and panic sharpened her voice.

  “The grandmother?”

  “Hanson. If you could have seen the way she was looking at me. If I go in, she’ll throw me into a cell no questions asked. I knew I should have kept my big mouth shut. I should never have talked to the cops.”

  “She won’t,” Renny said firmly. “I promise I won’t let her. We’ll talk to someone else. I can be at your place in thirty. We’ll go together.”

  “We will? Why would you do that?” she had to ask, though the thought of having someone with her, having Renny with her, brought a dizzying wave of relief.

  “Friends don’t let hysterical friends talk to the police alone. By yourself you’ll be like one of those characters in a book who start confessing the minute the cops give them the hard-eyed look. With me there you might still confess, but I’d be able to take notes, maybe use it in a future story.”

  Summer’s laugh bordered on hysteria. “Only if my name appears on the dedication page.”

  “What? Acknowledgment’s not good enough for you?”

  “If I’m going to be somebody’s bitch in jail, I’ll need that for clout.”

  “Deal. Probably give me some clout too. I mean, how many authors dedicate their books to hardened criminals?”

  “Criminal, yes. Hardened, not so much. Misunderstood.”

  Renny gave a shout of laughter. “Have I talked you down yet?”

  “Yes.” Summer exhaled and discovered she could take a deep breath again. “Undying gratitude and all.”

  “In that case, expect me in forty. I know just the outfit to wear in case we get stuck with Carla.”

  “Is that…?” She ended the call after getting a dial tone. “I’m not guilty,” she told herself, but somehow it had been easier to believe when Renny said it. Too nervous to sit, she jumped up and paced around the living room.

  She hadn’t done anything wrong. She was doing the police a favor. Surely they would see that? Would see that she wasn’t a criminal? Oh God, please let them see that.

  Summer hurried to the bathroom and studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. “You’re not guilty,” she told her reflection and finger combed her hair. The blue sweater she was wearing—the one that brought out the thin blue stripes in her slacks—worked for an innocent woman, she thought. The guilty wore white to throw off the police. A nervous laugh bubbled up. What did she know about clothes? What did she know about guilt, about killers, about any of this? But she did know something about a predator who was probably also a killer.

  Panic danced up her spine and along the back of her neck. She’d been in the head of a killer. A killer who was still alive and who’d been in the bookstore less than half a mile from her condo. She barely made it to the toilet before breakfast spewed from her mouth. When the dry heaves waned, she lay down on the cold tile floor and wept.

  It was unfair she had to deal with this on top of all her problems. The accident, the coma, the rehab, the not k
nowing who she was. All of which should have been enough to pay for whatever cosmic debt she owed. But no, she had to have psychic powers added to the mix.

  There are three little girls who didn’t have it so fair either, a tiny voice reminded her. She sat up and rubbed her face with her hands, then grabbed toilet paper and blew her nose. Her situation wasn’t the best, but she knew where she was. She wasn’t going to wake up to some old man doing things to her she didn’t understand. She didn’t have to worry she might never see her family again.

  “So get a grip. You’re still alive. You don’t have it so bad.” The last thing she wanted was to go to the police station with her emotions out of control. The visions occurred when she was upset. She wasn’t ready to learn anyone else’s deep, dark horror this morning.

  When Renny rang the doorbell thirty minutes later, Summer thought she had her emotions wrapped up tight. Lust slipped past her grasp, though, provoked by the sexy beauty before her. Renny had gone for a thigh-length dress that followed her curves and displayed a generous amount of cleavage. “Wow,” Summer whispered, surprising herself. She hadn’t thought she could speak.

  Renny’s smile lit up her face. She slipped off her coat and did a quick turnaround. “I take it you like the dress?”

  “‘Like’ is too weak. Much too weak. I know Carla won’t be able to think because I can’t either.”

  Renny dropped a kiss on her cheek. “You’re so sweet.”

  Her senses swirling with the scent of Renny’s perfume, Summer didn’t say that sweet had nothing to do with it. But she thought it.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Uh, yeah. Yeah.” She managed to back up without tripping over her tongue. “You didn’t have to come, but I sure am glad you did.”

  “You don’t have to go, but I sure am glad you are. That makes us even.”

  “Still, thanks.” She took a deep breath. “I think I’m ready. Do you think we should call?”

  “Their phones are ringing off the hook. We have a better chance of talking to a person if we go down there.”

  Summer’s cell buzzed as they made their way to the elevator. “Yeah. On my way now…Thanks, but Renny’s going with me…Sure.” She slipped the phone back into her pocket. “That was Keile. She caught the news too.”

  “Who else did you tell about the other girl?”

  “Just Dani and Carla. And Haydn.”

  “Good. You’re going to want to insist the police leave your name out of any report before you give them anything. You don’t want every kook calling you for psychic readings.”

  Summer pressed a hand against her stomach as the elevator descended.

  “You look like you’re going to the chair.”

  She gave Renny a wan smile. “I feel like I’m going to the chair without having had my last meal. What if they don’t believe me? What if they think I’m some kind of copycat snatcher?”

  Renny rolled her eyes. “I thought we settled that. What’s your motivation?”

  “I’m crazy, remember? Crazy people don’t need motivation.”

  “They do. It’s usually twisted and as crazy as they are, but they do have one. Where’s your puppy? Where’s your accomplice? You don’t even drive. Did you transport that girl on the back of your bike?”

  “I’ve been in his head. What if he’s making me do it?”

  “When’s the last time you had a blackout?”

  “A what?” Summer waited for Renny to exit the elevator before she followed suit. She was amazed they’d had the elevator to themselves considering the number of residents in the lobby. The morning rush was on in earnest.

  Renny grabbed her hand as they followed the throng of people outside. “I’m up a block,” she said, turning right.

  Summer looked down at Renny’s mile-high heels. “I didn’t think. I should have let you into the garage.”

  “Do I look weak? A block won’t kill me. So, when was the last time you woke up to find you’d lost, say, three or more hours? And I don’t mean in the morning.”

  “The coma.”

  “If you kidnapped that girl because the bad guy took over your mind you’d have this gap in your memory. Unaccounted for time. You don’t, so you didn’t do it.” She unlocked the door to her maroon BMW convertible. “I hope this isn’t too small for you to ride in?”

  Summer shook her head. “Riding’s fine.”

  “Good. Seat belt,” Renny ordered before she zipped into traffic. “Now—tell me why you couldn’t be the kidnapper.”

  Summer spouted back Renny’s words to her as they moved through morning rush hour traffic. The police station was on the outskirts of town, moved there two years ago to be near the new jail. A couple of bail bond establishments had popped up, but otherwise the area was underdeveloped.

  Renny pulled into a visitor’s parking space and turned off the ignition. “Before we go in, there’s something I want you to remember.” She turned to face Summer. “You’re here voluntarily and you’re here to help them. They owe you, you don’t owe them.”

  “Yeah,” Summer bobbed her head. “Okay. Gotcha.” But it was still hard to open the door. Hard to think of walking into the station, enduring the stares, then the sneers once she told her story. The whispers that would spread around as she became known as the crazy woman who claimed to have seen a child abducted. She jumped when Renny’s hand landed on her knee.

  “You have to get out to go in, Summer.”

  “Yeah. Right.” She zipped up to ten by ten, then opened the door and made herself get out. If she expected the walk to the front door to be easier, she was wrong. The sidewalk seemed to lengthen until the door looked miles away. “Courage,” she mumbled. There was a little girl out there who was more scared than she was, she reminded herself. If anything she said helped the police find the girl sooner, then she’d bear the embarrassment. Suddenly the distance to the door shortened.

  Renny reached for Summer’s hand and interlaced their fingers. “Here to help them, remember?”

  “If I forget, promise to remind me.”

  “You don’t even have to ask.”

  “Help you?” The Hispanic cop leaning against the receptionist’s desk straightened. He didn’t look old enough to shave.

  “Is Officer Hanson available?” Renny asked, unbuttoning her coat and flashing him a big smile.

  “Uh, she’s, uh, out in the field,” he stammered, blushing. “I can help you.” He cleared his throat. “What’s this about?”

  “I hate to be a bother, but is there anyone…else we could speak with? It’s a complicated situation.” Renny put her hands on his desk and leaned forward, giving him an unrestricted view of her cleavage.

  Summer was surprised she could feel amusement. But she did catching the look of wonderment that took over the young cop’s face. She figured Renny had shown him a glimpse of his Valhalla. “That was mean,” she said once he’d bounded away. “You’re lucky he didn’t pass out.”

  “He did turn an interesting shade of red. He’s greener than grass. Wouldn’t be surprised if this was his first day on the job.”

  The young cop, his blush still visible, returned with an older man. The other cop was wearing street clothes, which said to Summer he was higher up. The look he sent them had her going through the multiplication table and still her heart raced. She could tell he wasn’t going to as much as sample a word she said, let along buy. Not from the top of his comb-over to the belly that strained against the less than crisp white shirt, to the blue slacks and scuffed black shoes.

  “This is Detective Kohner with CIU,” the young cop said.

  “I’m Renny Jamison and this is Summer Baxby. Is there somewhere we can go that’s more private?”

  Detective Kohner crossed his arms, resting them on the bulk of his protruding middle. “What’s this about? We’re real busy around here.”

  “We—Summer, that is—may have some information about the missing girl.”

  Summer could almost feel his gaze pier
ce her flesh. In her mind she could see blue rays shooting out of his dark eyes, striking her down.

  “May?” he said, throwing back his shoulders. “Either you do or you don’t. I don’t have time to play games with you. That little girl doesn’t have time for me to play games with you.”

  “This is not a game.” Renny matched his terse tone. “Now is there somewhere we can sit down and discuss this? If not, then I’m sorry we wasted your precious time.”

  He gave her a look as if taking her measure, then jerked his head toward a small conference room. It was made smaller by the big round table and six chairs it contained.

  As Summer followed Kohner and Renny into the room, both of them stiff with self-righteous indignation, she worried she and the young cop would get taken down in the cross fire.

  “Maybe now you can share what you may or may not know,” Detective Kohner said as he pulled out a chair and motioned for them to sit.

  Summer swallowed hard. “I have these what you might call visions. I saw the little girl in a vision. I saw Georgia Zackery.”

  “What are you, like, psychic?” he asked and leaned back to prop his feet on another chair. “I guess it’s too much to ask what I’m thinking now, huh?” He smiled. “When did you have this,” he made quotation marks in the air, “vision?”

  “Yesterday evening. Right before eight.” Summer wondered why she’d been worried she’d be found guilty. How could she be, when Kohner was having a good time not believing her?

  “Tell me about these, uh, what do you call them? Yeah, visions. Do you have to be in a trance?”

  “No. I was in the bookstore on Second and Auburn, looking for books on local history when it happened. She was walking down the sidewalk and saw a puppy. The man said—”