Caitlin chewed her bottom lip, then said, "You're so sure there's something after death. Is it because you've-you've contacted somebody from the other side?"

Without commenting on the terminology, Samantha merely said, "I'm not a medium."

"Oh. So-you don't do that?"

"No. Technically, I'm what they call a seer. In carnival language, I see what is and what will be."

Caitlin smiled slightly at the other woman's deliberately theatrical tone. "Just like on the sign outside your booth."

"Exactly. As I understand it, my primary ability is precogni-tion, seeing the future. When I'm seeing the present but something going on beyond my own sight or hearing, that's a kind of clairvoyance. But unlike most clairvoyants, who tend to pick up information all around them, randomly, what I see is very focused, tuned in to a specific event."

"Like seeing Lindsay."

Samantha nodded again. "It's a secondary ability, much less common to me. I've also been told that I'm a 'touch seer' rather than an 'open seer.' The difference, I gather, is that I have to touch an object to pick up anything."

"Always?"

Samantha thought of her dream, but nodded and said firmly, "Always. Happily, though, I don't go through life picking up visions every time I pick up a can of tuna or a hairbrush."

Very intent, Caitlin asked, "Then what triggers the visions? Why one object and not another, I mean."

Samantha sipped her cooling tea, giving herself a moment, then said slowly, "People with more scientific knowledge than I have said it's all a matter of energy. Emotions and actions have energy. The more intense the feelings or events, or the longer they last, the more likely they are to… leave some of their energy on an area or an object. Sort of imprinting a memory on it. Since my brain is apparently hardwired to tune in to that kind of energy, when I touch the right thing, I do."

"That doesn't really explain Lindsay's ring. She hadn't worn it for years, and she never came close to drowning as a child."

"If it was easy to explain, it wouldn't seem like magic, now, would it?" Samantha smiled, but also shrugged. "Maybe every individual has his or her own energy signature, as unique as a fingerprint. I've heard that; maybe it's true. They leave their own energy on an object, I touch the object, and-sometimes-my brain homes in on that energy signature. Picks up what's happening or will happen with that person, especially if strong emotions are involved."

"So you picked up her future when you touched her ring because… because she wore it so much in her past. Her childhood."

"Maybe. I don't really know, Caitlin. I generally don't think about it a whole lot. It's just something I can do. I can also juggle, I'm a fair shot-at least at pop-up targets-and I'm the carnival champ at poker."

Caitlin smiled, but said, "Less-troublesome abilities, I imagine."

"You've never beaten Leo at poker. He can be mean."

Her smile remained, but Caitlin's eyes were serious. "If I asked you to do something for me, would you?"

"I'd have to hear what it was first," Samantha replied warily.

"I want you to touch something."

Not very surprised, and still wary, Samantha lifted her brows and waited.

"I had to go to Lindsay's apartment. To… pick out what she'd wear today."

Samantha nodded, still waiting.

"I knew she'd been seeing Wyatt Metcalf, so I expected to find some of his things there. And I did see a few things I assume are his. But I also found this." She reached into her purse and produced a small object wrapped in a handkerchief. Placing it on the table between them, she unfolded the clean white cotton. "There really isn't room anywhere on it for a fingerprint, but I picked it up with my handkerchief anyway. It isn't-wasn't Lindsay's."

Lying in the center was a small piece of costume jewelry, a charm or pendant meant to be worn on a chain. A novelty probably intended for Halloween, it was a small black spider in the center of a silvery web.

Staring down at it, Samantha heard herself ask, "How do you know it didn't belong to Lindsay?"

"Because she was terrified of spiders." Caitlin grimaced. "Dumb for a cop, she said, but she'd been that way since we were kids. The last time we talked, she told me she had her apartment exterminated once a month just to make damned sure none of them got in. It was a real phobia, believe me."

"Still," Samantha said, "this isn't a real spider."

"Doesn't matter. Lindsay couldn't bear even a picture of one, and she would never-ever-own a piece of jewelry with a spider on it."

"Could have been a gift."

"She wouldn't have kept it. Samantha, I'm absolutely positive this didn't belong to Lindsay."

"Where did you find it?"

"On her nightstand, of all places. She really wouldn't have had anything like this near her bed. That would have totally freaked her out. When she was just a toddler, a spider got into her crib. Our mom was downstairs, and it took her a few minutes to get up there; Lindsay always said it was the longest few minutes of her life and that she could remember every second vividly, how she was so terrified she couldn't even move. The spider wasn't poisonous or anything, but she's had nightmares about it ever since."

"So you think… somebody put this in her apartment?"

"Lindsay wouldn't have touched it, I know that much."

"If the sheriff gave it to her-"

Caitlin was shaking her head. "From what I gather, they'd been lovers for months and worked together much longer than that. He's not the sort of man to consider something like this a joke, especially since he'd know what she was genuinely afraid of. Lindsay would have told him. Hell, it was practically the first thing she told anybody she met, especially socially. 'Hi, I'm Lindsay and I hate spiders with a vengeance.' Didn't she tell you?"

"As a matter of fact, she did," Samantha admitted slowly. "When I was staying at the sheriff's department, she came down and had coffee with me a couple of times. Sort of jokingly asked if I could look into the future and promise she wouldn't-"

"Wouldn't be bitten by a spider and die," Caitlin finished steadily. "When we were kids, Lindsay was afraid of two things, and only two things: spiders and water over her head. She overcame her fear of water by learning to swim. In fact, she was on a champion swim team in college. But she was never able to conquer her fear of spiders."

To herself, Samantha murmured, "Spiders would have been impractical, maybe impossible. No control there. Just seeing them would have caused her to panic. Not the slow, dawning realization he wanted. The gradual buildup of fear. So he had to use water."

Grim, Caitlin said, "When they told me he'd drowned her, all I thought at first was how horrible it was for her to die that way.

The way she'd once feared she would. And what a coincidence that he'd pick that. When I found this on her nightstand… It wasn't a coincidence at all, was it? He didn't just want to kill her, he wanted to scare her."

"You're assuming he put this in her apartment."

"Aren't you?"

Samantha nodded slowly. "The question is, did he do it before or after he took her?"

"Had to be after," Caitlin said immediately. "Or at least after she left home that morning. I wasn't kidding when I said she wouldn't have something like this near her. If she'd seen it, it wouldn't have been left there. A pair of kitchen tongs and a paper bag, probably."

"If that's the case," Samantha said, "then this wasn't left for Lindsay to find. It was left for someone else."

"Me? Knowing I'd clean out the apartment?"

"I don't think so. He sent the ransom note to Metcalf. I'm willing to bet he expected the sheriff to be the one to check out her apartment. In fact, I bet he did, right after she disappeared. But she didn't disappear from home, so it wasn't a crime scene and wasn't sealed-and he was extremely upset. Probably just charged in and looked around quickly. He must have missed this."