“Anything new?” Will asked him as he took his seat again.

“No more bodies—I hope?” Renee asked.

“No, thankfully,” he said simply, looking up as he saw their waitress coming over with the food. “That was fast.”

The food was served. The fish was crispy and delicious, and Caleb realized he hadn’t known how hungry he was.

Renee suddenly put down her fork. “Maybe we should have had burgers,” she said.

“Why?” Barry asked her. “You love the fish and chips here.”

“No, I was just thinking that we’re eating fish, and fish eat everything in the water.”

They were all silent. She hadn’t said what she was really thinking.

That fish ate corpses in the water.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m done,” Sarah said, and rose.

“Will we see you tomorrow?” Barry asked her.

She shook her head. “I’ve been given permission to take a leave of absence for a few days, and I have a few things I need to do, so I’m taking this chance to do them. Who knows, though? I may stop by and check in on you working stiffs—”

She broke off, looking stricken.

Will groaned. “We can’t say anything these days, huh?” He stood up, too. “I’ll get the check, so just wait for me. You’re not walking home alone. And if anything more happens around here, you’re not staying in that place alone, no matter what,” he told her firmly.

“Thanks—Dad,” she said. “But I’m all right, and I’m not a fool. And you can sit back down. Caleb is going to walk me home.”

Will looked at Caleb, as if sizing him up for a moment. It was only natural, laudable even, that he should be worried. And when Will nodded approvingly, it felt good to see that although Will was the one who had called him a corpse magnet, the other man also seemed to trust him to take care of Sarah.

“All right,” Will said. “But take care and try not to be your usual ‘I can do anything myself, by myself,’ self, okay? Please.”

Sarah smiled and gave him a hug. “I promise. I will not go wandering alone in the dark, and I’ll lock my door the second Caleb leaves. I’ll double lock it. Trust me.”

She and Caleb tossed some money on the table, then left. Out on the street, he looked at her and said, “I’m breathless with anticipation.”

She laughed, and he was glad to see the humor in her eyes when she told him, “Sorry, but I’m not going to burst into your room looking for sex.” After she spoke, she flushed slightly. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. Anyway, there’s a picture I need to show you. We can stand under that street lamp so you can see, and then I’ll explain everything I discovered today while we walk back to my place.”

She reached into her purse and handed him an old photograph in a frame.

It was amazing. He could have been looking at a picture of himself in costume.

“How did you do this?” he asked her.

“I didn’t do it!” she protested indignantly. “It was at the museum. It’s why Caroline and I thought we’d seen you before. It was part of a recent exhibit, so it must have stuck in our minds.”

He stared at the photograph again. “This is the real thing?”

“Yes, and I can even explain it. I looked up your family tree.”

“You did what?”

“I looked up your family tree. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to invade your privacy,” she said.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bark.”

“Caleb, you have ancestors who used to live here. Did you know that?”

He shook his head. “My folks weren’t the kind who were into figuring out their roots.”

“Well, there are a lot of Web sites that do just that, and I printed off your family tree. I feel like such an idiot for bursting in on you this morning, and at least this explains why I was so…confused.”

She was palpably sincere. Her eyes were silver in the moonlight, and he could smell the faint scent of her perfume. Somewhere in his core, he felt a stirring and a warmth. He’d wanted to touch her from the minute he’d seen her, but he’d never been more tempted than he was at that moment.

He needed to walk her home, see that she was safe.

He needed to keep his hands off her.

“Actually, you barging in that way was rather titillating,” he said, unable to prevent a smile.

She laughed, her cheeks turning a becoming shade of rose, but she didn’t look away. “Look, what I’m trying to explain to you is that I’m not a lunatic and I don’t usually go banging on men’s doors and yelling at them. I guess I did have a dream, but if you look at this, you can see why I thought what I did. I mean…this could be a picture of you.”

“Point taken,” he assured her, then shook his head sadly.

“What?”

“I’m afraid this means you’re not going to barge in on me again.”

“I upset Bertie. I think I’d better behave from now on,” she said, turning away. “I need to explain things to her, and apologize.”

“Show her the picture. She’ll understand,” he said.

She smiled and started walking. He stayed by her side, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep himself from reaching for her, determined not to act like a jackass and ruin this tenuous connection between them. The night was warm, but with a sea breeze that stirred her hair as they walked and carried a tantalizing whiff of her perfume to him. He found himself noticing everything about her. The silky sheen of her hair and the way that it swayed on her shoulders as she walked.

The way she walked.

The way she was built.

Her skin was smooth, and she was wearing a sleeveless knit dress that revealed a lot of that skin, and molded her curves so tightly that he had to swallow. Hard.

She had a great mouth, generous and well-defined. Beautiful lips. Perfect nose. He remembered how it had felt to have her underneath him that morning, the feel of her flesh against his.

He almost tripped over a cobblestone as they moved down Avila, ready to make the right that would lead them to St. George.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Yes, just clumsy,” he assured her.

“It was strange that day, when I saw you just staring at the house,” she said.

“It’s a beautiful old house,” he said.

“But it seemed as if you were drawn to it.”

I’m drawn to its owner.

“I like historic architecture,” he said lamely. They had reached her house, and stood staring up at it. The mansion had been magnificently constructed. That night, however, he felt as if the darkened windows were eyes, staring back at them. It was as if something brooding was living inside the house. He gave himself a mental shake; he wasn’t prone to whimsy or flights of fantasy. It was a house.

A house and nothing more. But history happened in houses. Events occurred. The good, the bad and the very ugly.

Adam said there were two kinds of hauntings. Residual, the events of the past happening over and over again. And active, or intelligent, when spirits remained behind, chained by the trauma of their deaths. They could even learn to move objects and travel from place to place, which was why Abe Lincoln could be seen both striding the halls of the White House, or sitting in the seat where he’d been shot at Ford’s Theatre.

He couldn’t communicate with ghosts himself, but he worked with a number of intelligent and completely sane people who did speak with those long gone.

But this house…

It was as if the house itself wanted to tell him something.

He was suddenly anxious to get back inside.

But not tonight.

“Caleb?” Sarah said softly, studying him.

He turned to her. Her eyes were so wide and concerned.

Silver and beautiful.

“Let’s get you safely inside, okay?” he suggested.

And maybe, just maybe, I can stay awhile, he thought.

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