And still in a very bad place.

Note to self, she thought dryly. Find cell phone and attach to body.

She thought she heard movement nearby, and she spun around, lightning bolts of terror streaking through her once again.

Hello? a voice breathed somewhere in her head.

She gripped her softball bat and inched forward into the dark. She couldn’t see a thing, even though she was young and had very good vision.

If she couldn’t see and someone else was in the basement with her, at least that person couldn’t see, either, she told herself.

She held very still. Nothing happened.

She continued to wait, holding her breath, for what seemed like forever.

As she waited, she realized that those fractured particles of light seemed to be seeping back into the basement. From where?

As she stood there, she suddenly felt a strange warmth settling over her.

Something—someone—touched her shoulder. She wanted to scream, but she was frozen with fear.

She insisted to herself that whatever it was, it wasn’t real.

And yet…

He was there. A man. Indistinct. Just a product of her imagination, she told herself. She couldn’t possibly be looking at Civil War soldier Cato MacTavish in his cavalry uniform. She couldn’t possibly be feeling his hand on her shoulder as he put his finger to his lips, warning her to silence.

He couldn’t be real. She had hit her head in the fall, and now she was seeing things. Or maybe her mind had gone because she was so terrified.

He led her forward, still cautioning her to silence, and, inexplicably, she let him. She followed him through the basement to a far corner where a number of old wooden crates had been piled haphazardly.

She could have sworn she saw him reach out as if to move one of them.

She moved it herself and saw that, behind it, the rest of the crates had been stacked into a series of steps.

Keeping her bat firmly grasped in her hand, she crawled up onto the first crate. She could have sworn that Cato gave her a boost.

She crawled up on the next crate, and her excitement grew. There was more light here, though it was still pale and dim.

She turned when she felt herself being assisted up onto the next crate, and for a moment she saw him.

Really saw him.

As if he were a man of solid flesh and blood and bone.

The sweeping Southern hat, with its huge plume. The handsome dress cavalry jacket. The eyes that were so like Caleb’s.

He moved an arm, impatiently, as a whisper seemed to sound in the air. Go. Go quickly.

She moved on to the next crate.

And then she discovered the source of the light.

Just as he was about to turn the corner to St. George Street, Will suddenly drew back.

“What?” Caroline demanded.

“Look,” he whispered. “But carefully.”

They were behind a string of bushes alongside one of one of the smaller of the old mansions, which had an overgrown lot on the far side of it.

A car was parked in front of the lot. Caroline didn’t recognize it, and she didn’t understand why Will was staring at it, and why he was hiding behind the bushes now when he had been so intent earlier on hurrying to Sarah’s house.

“Will? What’s going on?”

“Shhh. That’s Tim Jamison’s car.”

“So? He’s a cop. He can park anywhere he wants. Maybe he’s investigating something,” Caroline said, perplexed.

“Caroline, he’s not investigating anything, he’s just sitting in his car,” Will said. “And he’s not alone.”

Caroline peeked around the bushes. There were two people in the car. Tim Jamison.

And…

The other person had long flowing hair. And a feminine profile. And as she watched, the two of them leaned in toward each other and met in a passionate kiss.

Caroline let out a loud gasp. Will clasped a hand over her mouth and drew her back into the bushes.

She shook free of his grasp and whispered, “Stop it. If Tim wants to have an affair, that’s his own business. We’re on our way to Sarah’s, so come on. I don’t care if they’re going at it like rabbits in there. We have to get to Sarah’s.”

As they were whispering in the bushes, she was suddenly aware of headlights as an old Volkswagen Bug pulled up next to them.

“Hey!” Renee Otten stuck her head out the passenger window. “Why are you two hiding in the bushes?” she asked, and giggled. “Get a room.”

Down the street, the engine of Tim Jamison’s car revved, and the car drove off down the street.

“We’re on our way to Sarah’s. She’s not answering her phone,” Will said.

“Then quit wasting time skulking around and hop in,” Barry offered, leaning past Renee.

“It’s just around the corner—we’ll meet you there,” Will said, then gripped Caroline’s hand and started walking quickly again. Will glanced up at the house by the vacant lot and remembered the last time he and Sarah had been at this very house. They had been wary, and suspicious, seeing the lieutenant’s car.

“What?” Caroline asked.

“Do you know who lives here?”

“No. Do you?”

“Sure do. That would be Mr. Terrence Griffin the Third.”

Caleb made it back in record time. Luckily—or possibly dangerously—most people on the highway were doing at least ninety, which made it less obvious that he was pushing the speedometer toward one hundred.

He was impatient at every red light he hit as he entered the city.

As he neared the streets of Old Town, he decided to pass on checking out Hunky Harry’s or even trying to call Will again.

He headed straight for Sarah’s house on St. George.

There were no cars in the drive, so he swung in off the street practically without braking. As he threw the car into Park, he saw a Bug coming around the corner. It jerked to a halt on the street just as he jumped out of his car.

“Hey!” Will called to him, walking up with Caroline just as Barry and Renee hopped out of their car.

“You haven’t found her?” Caleb asked.

“No, we keep calling and calling, but…nothing,” Caroline said, trying again as she spoke.

Caleb headed for the porch and raced up the steps. As he got to the door, he heard Sarah’s cell phone ringing—inside.

“Sarah!”

He tried the door. It was open, and he cursed under his breath as he rushed inside.

“Sarah!” he shouted again, anxiety rising in his tone as he followed the sound of the ringing.

Her purse was on the kitchen counter, her cell phone inside it.

The others were right behind him. “Sarah!” Will shouted. He turned and headed for the stairs, then ran up them two at a time. Caroline hurried into one parlor, Renee and Barry into the other.

Caleb saw the door to the basement standing ajar. Had Sarah gone down there, hoping to find a hidden clue? He threw it open and looked down into the darkness. “Sarah!”

“What?”

He was startled when he heard her voice behind him and spun around.

She was leaning against the door frame between the kitchen and the hall.

And she was covered in mud and spiderwebs.

12

Caleb was stunned at the sight of her, but he didn’t have a chance to speak, because just then Will came tearing back down the stairs and rushed into the room.

“Sarah! Where the hell have you—” He broke off and stopped dead, just two feet away from her. He’d been about to hug her in his relief, but suddenly he seemed to notice that she was covered in filth, and it gave him pause.

“Sarah?” Caroline said, crashing into Will.

Sarah offered them all a weak smile. “Hi, guys.”

Caleb had managed to tamp down his own sense of sheer panic by then and stepped back to lean against the refrigerator. “What happened to you?” he asked finally.