Sparked the heat. What was she, a schoolgirl?

Shake it off.

Kendra entered her building but decided to take a detour on her way to her unit. She approached a door on the second floor and knocked.

Two seconds later, she heard the electronic dead bolt unlock.

“Come in!” Olivia called from inside.

Kendra opened the door. Olivia Moore was seated at her desk, typing away at her computer keyboard. It’s where she was almost every time Kendra visited these days.

“Just a few more seconds. Sit down,” Olivia said as she continued typing. “Gotta keep feeding the beast.”

“The beast” was Olivia’s blog, Outta Sight, which was a popular Internet destination for the vision-impaired. Her Web site, which the blind could enjoy with Screenreader and other specialized text-to-speech applications, featured interviews, travel tips, and product reviews. In less than two years, Olivia had grown her evenings-and-weekends hobby into a full-time job that generated a six-figure income.

Finally, she pushed away from the desk. “Done. I was reviewing some new gadgets. I get stuff in the mail every day now. It’s amazing what’s out there. We sure could have used some of this stuff back at Woodward.”

Kendra smiled. She and Olivia had met as children at Woodward Academy, the school for the blind in Oceanside. Among the many emotions that greeted Kendra upon regaining her sight was the sadness and strange guilt about leaving Olivia behind in the darkness. Olivia, whose vision had been taken by a childhood traffic accident, was not a candidate for the regenerative corneal procedure that had given Kendra her sight. Olivia, for her part, had expressed nothing but support and happiness for her friend. But Kendra knew that Olivia spent a lot of time scouring the Internet for experimental procedures that might one day give her back her own vision.

Olivia tossed back her glossy dark hair, her beautiful face suddenly lit with a mischievous smile, as she picked up a palm-sized object and aimed it at Kendra. “Stay still for a second.”

“So you can tase me? If I’m on the floor twitching and wetting my pants in the next ten seconds, I will be very angry with you.”

“It’s not a Taser. Just wait.”

After a moment, a man’s voice sounded from the device. “Aqua blue.”

Olivia lowered the gadget. “Is that right? You’re wearing an aqua top?”

Kendra looked down at her shirt. “Yes. That’s impressive.”

“It’s for picking out clothes, sorting laundry, or maybe even to help connect audio or video cables. There are some bugs, but it works pretty well. I just uploaded my review.”

“Cool. You get to keep all this stuff that the manufacturers send you?”

“Most of it. It’s good exposure for them. I just don’t have enough time to review it all.” She stood up and moved across the room to the sectional sofa where Kendra was sitting. “But enough about that. How was your date last night?”

“Good. Mom kind of knocked it out of the park. He’s smart, kind of funny, good-looking…”

“Uh-oh. I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming.”

“No ‘but.’ I had a nice time. I’ll probably see him again.”

“A nice time. Hmm. Tell me you didn’t do your Kendra thing on him, where you disturbingly told him his entire life story?”

“Well…”

“I knew it.”

“It just happened. He didn’t mind.”

“Of course he minded. That freaks guys out. Not just guys, but everybody. People like to parse themselves out to dates that they’re just getting to know … You know, they like to wait a few dates before they discuss the STDs, the rotten credit history, the six hyperactive kids who…”

“Or the prison time?”

Olivia’s face froze. “Seriously?”

“Yes. It was a drug thing in college. It’s long behind him.”

“If you say so.”

She was silent a moment. “I actually have some bigger news. I saw Adam Lynch just a few hours ago.”

“And there’s the ‘but.’”

“No, why do you keep saying that? There’s no ‘but.’”

“Oh, yes. The hunky government agent from your past appears, and the new guy pales in comparison. That’s your ‘but.’”

“If we can move past my ‘but’ for a second, Lynch tried to recruit me for another job.”

Olivia nodded. “Of course he did. You told him to go to hell, right?”

She smiled. “I used those very words.”

“Good. How many times do you have to tell them you’re not interested in this stuff? I don’t see how they have the nerve to—”

“Actually, I kind of inserted myself into this one.”

Olivia went still. “And how, exactly, did you do that?”

Kendra told her about the Cabrillo Bridge crime scene, her observations, and her conversation with Lynch.

After she finished, Olivia didn’t speak for a moment. “The envelope he gave you … is that what I heard you put on the coffee table?”

“Yes.”

“I have a paper shredder near the desk. Go ahead and put it in.”

“I’ll take care of it later.”

“Take care of it now.”

“I—I don’t know what’s in it. They might need it back.”

“Do you really think they took a precious, one-of-a-kind piece of evidence, dropped it into an envelope, and gave it to you without even telling you what it is? And didn’t you just tell me his exact words were, ‘open it, don’t open it, whatever’? That doesn’t sound like something they need back.”

“You’re right.”

“So go over there and shred it.”

Kendra picked up the envelope but didn’t move from the couch.

Shit. She couldn’t make herself do it.

Olivia’s lips tightened. “You and I both know you’re going to open that envelope. And I know you’re going to help out on that investigation, even if you don’t.”

“So you’re clairvoyant now?”

“I don’t need to be. We’ve known each other most of our lives.”

“But I turn down cases all the time.”

“Most of them, yes. But as much as you say you’re not interested in this one, you can’t help yourself. It’s intriguing you. Even though you know it will probably put you through the ringer. I think it’s possible some of those cases—maybe even most—would have gone unsolved without you, and maybe you know that. So it could be that it would tear you up more not to do it. But if that’s true, that’s really screwed up. Is that the reason?”

“No.”

“Then do you even know the reason?”

Kendra leaned back on the sofa, still clutching the manila envelope. “I love my job, dammit. There’s nothing I love as much as my music-therapy work. I really do think I’m helping those people.”

“Of course you are.”

She waited.

“Okay. But sometimes I go weeks, months, without seeing signs of improvement in any of them. It goes with the territory, but it still makes me feel … powerless.”

Olivia half smiled. “And taking on these FBI cases makes you feel powerful?”

“Not really. Sometimes just the opposite.” She thought about it, trying to find an answer for herself as well as Olivia. It was time she stopped hiding and faced those reasons. “But those cases are finite problems with clear-cut solutions. I don’t often get that in my day job.”

“But your day job won’t get you killed.”

“I love life. I’m very careful, Olivia.”

“Sometimes, that’s not enough.”

“I know. Believe me, I usually leave the dangerous stuff to the people with guns.”

“Usually. That’s not very reassuring.” Olivia stood up. “Well, your psychosis will have to wait because I’m throwing you out. An Australian newspaper is calling me for an interview in a few minutes.”

“Whew.” Kendra grinned. “Saved by the bell.”

“This conversation isn’t over,” Olivia said sternly.

“Warning duly noted.” Kendra stood up and hugged her. So many years fighting the darkness together, so much love, so much friendship. “And I know it’s only because you care.”

“Damned right,” she said gruffly. “You’re my best friend, and I refuse to do without you.” She released her and turned away. “Now get out of here.”