“I would have died?” she whispered.

“I think you knew. That was why you instinctively broke free.”

She looked away from him. “Maybe.”

“But you didn't want to go through that again, so you transferred. You thought if you weren't near the fire that you'd be okay.” He shook his head. “But it doesn't work that way, Kerry. Not if you have an emotional connection.”

“I had to try,” she said unevenly. “Smitty was my friend, my best friend. I think in time we might have been even closer. But we didn't have that time. He died, and I couldn't bear to feel that same . . .”

“It's hell.” His voice harshened. “Do you think you're unique? Do you think none of us has had your special experience? It goes with the territory.”

“Well, it's not my territory. I don't want anything to do with it.” Her glance shifted back to him. “Or you. Michael told me there were all kinds of talents on both a major and a minor scale, but I never thought there would be anyone like you. You're an abomination.”

“That's not an uncommon response. It's sometimes bearable to have someone peek into your thought processes but not to change them.” He shrugged. “I've learned to live with it. You'll find this particular abomination can be very useful to you.”

“I don't want to use you. I want you to go away.”

“But you haven't let me tell you what I could do for you.”

“Nothing. There's nothing I'd ever want you to do for me.”

“On the contrary. I can give you what you've wanted all your life.” He paused. “He does have a face, you know. And somewhere deep in your mind you know what he looks like. You just haven't been able to fight through the horror of that night to bring the memory to the forefront.”

“And you're supposed to be able to do that for me?” She shook her head. “After I woke from that coma, the police tried everything including hypnosis to help me remember. It was just gone. The concussion and coma erased it.”

“But not permanently. It's just hidden. I can help you bring it out in the open. It won't be easy, but I can do it.”

“I don't believe you. If I could have remembered, I would have done it already. Do you think I don't want to see that bastard punished? He killed my mother. He left her in that burning house to die.” Her voice was shaking. “They told me later that there were only her bones left to bury when they finally were able to put out the fire.”

“You don't want to find him enough to bring back the memory.”

“Bullshit.” She stood up. “I don't believe you can help me, and even if you could, I wouldn't risk dealing with you.”

“Because you're afraid I'd mess with your mind. I promise not to do that. I usually don't barge in without permission.”

“Like you did in the closet?”

“That was necessary. I didn't want you to have a breakdown before I could put my proposition in front of you.”

She stared at him in amazement. So cool, so hard. “That would have been inconvenient for you.”

“Yes.” One corner of his lips lifted in a sardonic smile. “I couldn't afford the time to find another talent like you. Sorry if you're disappointed in my lack of the milk of human kindness. I have to move too hard and fast to try to finesse you. And I'd judge you're too honest and straightforward to appreciate a snow job.”

“I'm straightforward enough to turn you down and tell you to get out of my life.”

“Aren't you even curious what I want from you?”

“No.” It was a lie. She was curious. How could she not be?

“I want you to find a monster. A monster who makes the man who killed your mother look angelic in comparison.”

“Who?”

He shook his head. “I have to have a commitment. I promised Travis I wouldn't give away the show unless I was sure you'd keep it confidential. Some people would tell you it's your patriotic duty. I don't give a damn about patriotic duty.” His expression was flint hard. “I just want you to find him.”

“And I don't like having my duty defined by you, the government, or anyone else.” She opened the screen door. “So you've put your proposition to me and I've refused. Now go away.”

He shook his head. “This was just the opening foray. I knew you wouldn't cave right away. I'll have to keep after you until you agree.”

“If I see you anywhere near here, I'll call the police.”

He got to his feet. “Then you won't see me. But I'll be here. Think about it. The son of a bitch who killed your mother is still making you a prisoner. Don't you want to be free? Don't you want to see him burning in hell?”

“I'm not even giving that question the courtesy of an answer.”

“Then let me light the match to send him there.” His soft voice was coaxing and his expression lit with intensity. “Believe me. I can do it.”

She almost did believe him in that moment. Every muscle in his body seemed electrified by purpose. My God, she had recognized his strength of will in their last meeting, but now she realized she had barely skimmed the surface.

All the more reason to avoid any contact with him. Even when he wasn't using that talent she found so repulsive, he was far too persuasive. Yet he didn't try to hide either the ruthlessness or blunt self-interest that seemed integral to his character. He was a stranger who wanted a service from her, and she couldn't trust him or believe him. “You can't help me. Good-bye, Mr. Silver.”

He smiled. “I almost had you there for a minute, didn't I?”

“No way.”

He nodded. “Yes. You were edging close. You want what I can give you, but you're afraid. That's understandable. But it's not been a bad night's work for me. It's a relief to know I may not have to get radical.”

She stiffened. “Radical?”

“Never mind. Have a good night, Kerry.” He glanced at the gazebo. “You did a good job of painting that gazebo. But it needs another coat.”

“I know that. Tomorrow.”

“But you won't be too tired tomorrow. You'll sleep well.” His gaze never left the gazebo. “I know you're worried the nightmares will come back, but it's not going to happen.”

“What?”

He looked back at her. “A little gift for you. A down payment for future services.” He started across the lawn toward the gate. “And a demonstration of how useful I can be.”

“What the hell? I don't want any gifts. I want you to stay out of—”

He was gone.

And good riddance, Kerry thought, as she entered the house and locked the kitchen door. She was shivering, she realized. He had disturbed her almost as much as the first time they had met with his talk of the monster he wanted her to find.

She had enough demons of her own. She didn't need to search out any for him. His so-called gifts were definitely suspect. Particularly if he could twist her perception of reality as he'd done before. It still seemed almost impossible that such a talent existed. It frightened her. She wanted to hide her head beneath a blanket as she'd done as a child. The sensible adult alternative was to avoid Silver like the plague, and she had been right not to have been swayed by him.

You're worried the nightmares will come back, but it's not going to happen.

And that frightened her too. Not only that he'd known about the nightmares, but that he said he could prevent them. She felt . . . tampered with.

But it wouldn't happen. He was probably using positive reinforcement on the chance that maybe he'd strike it lucky. But the nightmares always came, and they were so strong she couldn't believe that anything would stop them.

He's still making you a prisoner.

Forget Silver. Go to bed and lie there fighting sleep. Because, in spite of what he said, she knew the nightmares would come.

Smoke.

Hurting her lungs.

If she opened her eyes, she knew that she'd see the flames.

Silver had lied. Why was she feeling this terrible disappointment? It only proved her will was strong enough to resist whatever suggestion he'd tried to implant.