“What?”

“Come on, Kendra. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can probably tell more about me and what I’ve been doing than I could myself.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not psychic.”

“You’re better than psychic. You’re real. I knew it before, and after today, it’s more clear than ever.” She grinned. “Come on. You start, and I’ll fill in the blanks. If there are any.”

“I told you, I tried to forget about that con artist for a reason. Now you’re trying to—”

“Except when you choose to use what you learned. Choose it now. Heck, there’s nothing sinister about me. I just want to see what you can do.”

No, there was nothing sinister or dangerous about Beth, but she could be damnably persistent. “I don’t know what you think I can possibly—”

“Please? Spill it.”

Get it over with.

“Okay. Well, I know you’ve been all over the northern half of the state in just the past couple of weeks. You’ve been in Bear Valley in Colusa, all the way up to northern California, where you spent some time at the Yurok Tribe reservation.”

Beth’s eyes widened. “Wow. Keep going.”

“Somewhere in there, you tried rock climbing, maybe a bit of rappelling in Yosemite?”

“Castle Rock.”

“You drove back on the coastal route. You saw Seahaven. It must have been strange seeing the place that holds many horrible memories for you. Did you actually drive onto the grounds?”

Beth nodded. Her eyes were suddenly glistening, and Kendra could see the tough veneer she tried to assume softening. “As close as I could get. I couldn’t resist going back. It was … drawing me. It’s closed now, and the gates were all locked. It’s actually very beautiful. I never saw much of the outside when I was there.”

“Their license was revoked. I don’t know what’s going to happen to the place.”

Her face tightened. “Good. The sooner it’s gone, the better.”

“I agree.” It was better to change the subject. “You spent some time at or near the beach before cutting across to this part of the state. You made the drive just yesterday.”

“Very good. See, I didn’t have to tell you anything.”

“It’s nothing. I still don’t know how you’ve been thinking and feeling about your new life. I know it’s been an amazing time for you.”

“It has. Mostly good, but not all.” She waved her hands in a “let me have it” motion. “Okay, how the hell did you know all that? Start with the Indian reservation.”

“Your shampoo is very fragrant. A mixture of yucca, soap root, and a bit of vinegar. Only the Yurok tribe makes it quite that way, and they sell it on their reservations.”

“You’re an expert on every shampoo out there?”

“No. Most Americans use one of six shampoos. Anytime I’ve gotten a whiff of one that smells as unique as yours, I’ve made it a point to ask what it was. When you can’t see, how a person smells becomes very important. It’s a big part of that first impression.”

“But you just reeled off my entire route. I know my shampoo didn’t tell you that.”

“It didn’t. Your car did.”

“I already thought of that.” Beth turned back toward her Mercedes. “There are no brochures, no tacky bumper stickers, nothing that could possibly tell you where I’ve been.”

“Your front grill and headlights tell me pretty much everything I need to know.”

Beth crouched in front of her car. “There’s nothing here but a whole mess of squashed bugs. Unless you’re telling me…” She looked up at Kendra. “Really?”

“Even if you’re not into bugs, it’s pretty easy to spot the phosphorous yellow-green splat of fireflies on the front of your car. I’ve never seen fireflies this far south. It tells me you’ve been to a cooler, wetter area. Northern California has them. It also has the biggest Yurok reservation in the entire country, up in Humboldt County.”

“That’s the place.”

Kendra rubbed her hand over the hood and showed Beth the yellow and pinkish dust on her hand. “Pollen from both California poppies and creamcups.”

“You can tell that from just looking?

“And from smelling.” Kendra held her hand up to her nose. “Although the pollen starts losing its scent as soon as it separates from the flowers. The time of year also makes it easier to zero in on them. Plus, I see that your boots are stained from what I suspect were adobe lilies. One place nearby that all three are found in large numbers is the Bear Valley Wildflower Meadows.”

“Very good. You’ve been there?”

“Many times, but not since I’ve been able to see. My mom used to take me there and to the fields in Antelope Valley when the poppies were in bloom. Such amazing smells … It’s like fireworks to a blind person.”

“And I did try rappelling.” She held up her hands. “My fingers took a beating, but that could have been from any one of a number of causes.”

“Not really. The back of your fingers are sunburned from just above the knuckle. You were obviously wearing climbing gloves. Your fingers are cut and bruised in a way that suggests that you were pulling yourself up by some jagged rocks. And the palm of each hand has a faint lateral burn just about where you would grip the rope. Even though there was a glove between the rope and your hand, heat from the rope’s friction was enough to leave a mark.”

“It’s an exhilarating sport. I can’t wait to do it again.”

Kendra smiled. “Take me with you when you do. I’d love to try it.”

“Well, that brings me almost all the way back here. Except how you knew about the coastal route and my visit to Seahaven.”

“The squashed bugs again. There are some fairly fresh kelp flies splattered on your headlights and front license plate. Those are found along the coast. The few splotches of fresh seagull excrement on your car helped confirm it. And since you took the coastal route back, there’s no way you wouldn’t have at least seen your old hospital since it looms over the highway.”

“Just as it loomed over my life,” she said moodily. Her smile was forced. “Impressive as always, Kendra. As usual, you’ve met the challenge.” She glanced back at her car. “And most of all, you’ve shown me that I really need to find a car wash. First order of business.”

“What are your plans? After the car wash, of course.”

“I’m not sure.” Beth glanced up the long highway. “I met some people who live in Fresno. I think maybe I’ll go there.”

“You also know someone who lives in San Diego.”

Beth looked away and shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve been meaning to visit you, Kendra. I really have.”

“Then come back with me.”

“Now?”

“Why not?”

“I’m not sure … that I’m ready.”

“You don’t have to stay with me though you’re welcome to. If you still think you need some space, we’ll set you up in a spectacular hotel. Or if you’re more comfortable in some fleabag, San Diego has those, too.”

Beth made a face. “Whoa. I may have spent some time in some less than desirable places lately, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t appreciate the finer things in life.”

“A nice bayside hotel will work, then.” She put her hand on Beth’s arm. “No pressure. If you want to spend some more time on the road by yourself, I understand. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

Beth thought about it for a moment. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll start following you back. If I decide to peel off between here and there, no offense. Okay?”

Kendra watched her as she moved around to the driver’s door and unlocked it with her key fob. She understood. Just one more way of clinging to the control that had been stolen from her so long ago. “Sure, Beth. No offense.”

*   *   *

EVEN WITH HEAVY TRAFFIC ON the I-5 freeway, Kendra and Beth arrived at Kendra’s condo less than three hours later. As Kendra opened the building’s front door, she smiled back over her shoulder. “I thought I was going to lose you in San Clemente.”

“I thought about stopping there … But not today.”