He kept hold of her hands. She seemed so childlike, so vulnerable at this moment. He knew she was a hard woman, her job demanded that. She was probably less frightened of the killer stalking her than she was of the thought of her mind betraying her with these visions.

"Kate, it wasn't real. There's nothing to be frightened of. It wasn't real. Let me take you back to Three Rivers, do the tests I wanted."

"He killed you." Her voice was trembling, her teeth chattering. She pulled her hands away from his. "Just like before. At my apartment." She looked down at her hands, turning her good one over to examine it. "All that blood-"

Josh sat back on his heels, stunned. It wasn't everyday a beautiful woman told you that you were about to die a horrible death. He relaxed his fists, thankful she hadn't divulged any of the details. He wasn't certain he could handle that. Even if it was all a delusion, hallucination.

He looked at her with the discerning eye of a clinician. It was painfully obvious she wasn't handling it well, either. God, what he wouldn't do to get her some answers, to find a cure, to fix everything for her.

"You said it happened at your apartment. How can he manipulate you into going someplace you have no intention of going?" he asked, trying to use logic to disarm her fears.

"How did he know to find me at home today?" she snapped. "You didn't plan to discharge me until next week. How did he walk into a cemetery with over a hundred cops around, kill one and leave again? Or shoot a cop with a bar full of his buddies less than thirty feet away?" Then she met his eyes and he was taken back by the intensity of her gaze.

Logic had no effect against the strength of her delusions. She was on the brink, had been ever since they left her apartment.

"You talk like this guy is God, or a force of nature. Don't give him that kind of power, Kate."

"He's human. I know that. I'm only saying that this guy is smart, he knows cops. How we think, how we act, where we go, even how we take down a suspect. He knew Rob was coming from his blind side that night. He ignored me to shoot him first. Now this guy has acquired a taste for killing cops. He likes the control, the feeling of superiority it gives him. We can't go to one of our own's funerals or drink a toast in a dead friend's memory without putting our life on the line-much less being out on the street, doing our job. Now that he's started this, there'll be others. No one in a uniform will be safe until we nail this guy."

She took a deep breath then sank back, as if surprised by her long speech. Hershey jumped up beside her and licked her face, but she gently pushed him away.

"Do you think this guy is a cop?" Josh asked after a moment's thought. "You said he knows your routines."

"I don't think this guy is a cop, but I'll bet he applied for the academy at one time and was turned down. He likes to have control over people, to be able to change their lives. And now's he's like a god, even the cops can't touch him." She looked around the room and focused back on him. "It must be the medicine you have me on, I haven't talked this much in ages."

"It's not the medicine. I think you're close to this guy."

"What do you mean? I don't know him!"

He remembered Turner's accusations and hastened to explain. "Let me finish. I don't mean close in a physical sense. I think you're close to his perspective, you've got a handle on how he thinks."

"Thanks a lot, doctor. Is that your way of saying that I'm ready for a room at Western Psych?"

"No. You've met him twice now in person and somehow he can't let you go. Why is he so fixated on you? Visiting you after he killed Conrad and Dimeo?"

"I wish I knew. Why can't these visions tell me something constructive like where this guy lives, or what his name is?"

"He meant to kill you that night, not just Rob," Josh said slowly, wishing she wouldn't rely so much on these figments of an overwrought brain.

"Don't I know it."

"Maybe he's such a control freak that he's obsessed because you escaped him. He knows you even escaped death; it was in the papers. Maybe he sees you as some kind of-" he stopped, frustrated searching for words.

"What? He sees me as having cheated him, defied him? Does that mean that in his mind, I have control over him? Or that he won't stop until he does kill me?"

Josh wished he had the answer.

CHAPTER 26.

Hershey crawled on top of Josh, whining, poking his wet nose against Josh's face.

"Get off, you went out already," Josh mumbled, trying to shove the Lab off the bed. Hershey jumped to the floor and ran to the door, scratching at it and whining.

"Why is it always at three am that you want to go out?" Josh got up, wincing as his bare feet hit the cold floor. He opened the door, and Hershey raced out to the stairs.

He followed the dog and almost tripped over her. Kate was huddled at the top of the steps, one hand cradling her bad arm, her head against her knees.

"Kate, what are you doing out here?" he asked in a whisper, sitting down on the step beside her. "Something wrong?"

She shook her head. He could barely make her out in the moonlight streaming through the window above the landing.

"No." Faint tracks of tears glistened on her cheeks. "I thought I heard something, so I got up. I guess it was too fast, I got dizzy and almost fell down the stairs. Sorry I woke you."

Then he saw the handgun clenched in her fist. He drew his breath in. The same kind of gun had killed her. Yet she clung to it as if it held some magical protection.

"Were you going to tell me you brought a gun into my house?"

She glanced down at her hand as if she'd forgotten the lethal weapon. "I felt naked without it. If it bothers you-"

The entire concept of a weapon designed to be easily concealed and produced for no other reason than to shoot a human being disturbed him.

"I wished you would have told me." He paused, but couldn't stop himself before addressing the real source of his concern. "And I don't think it's safe for you to be carrying a gun with the blackouts you've been having. Why don't you let me take you back to Three Rivers for more testing?"

She slowly raised her head and glared at him. Ah, there was the tough lady he knew and admired.

"You know, Lightner, I'm getting tired of your patronizing bedside manner. I want to stop being a patient and get back to being a person living her own life!"

She shrugged his arm away, tried to stand and lost her balance. Josh caught her, saved her from tumbling down the stairs, but not before she banged her left shoulder against the banister. Hershey didn't help matters by jumping up, pushing them both against the wall.

They stood there, awkwardly balanced on the top step, Kate swearing softly through her tears of pain, Josh trying to ignore the heat radiating from the woman who filled his arms. Finally he carried her into his room and sat her down on the bed.

He turned on the bedside light, took the gun from her hand and placed it on the night stand. Tiny dots of blood seeped through the shoulder of her t-shirt.

"Let me have a look at that," he told her, supporting her arm as he removed the t-shirt. He hoped she didn't notice that he was breathing harder. The T-shirt and boxers he'd worn to bed weren't the best choice to camouflage his other physical responses, either. She's a patient, he told himself, but with her sitting there half-naked, on his bed, the mantra was fast losing its effectiveness.

The sight of the finely sewn sutures criss-crossing her flesh brought him back to his senses, reminding him how much she had already been through. He couldn't hurt her, cause her any more pain. Taking advantage of her in this weakened state would do just that. The thought cooled his libido faster than a cold shower.

"That'll be fine," he said in his best clinical tone. Too bad his voice kept catching, betraying him. "Just tore a couple of stitches loose. They were almost ready to come out anyway. I'll bet banging that clavicle hurt like hell, though."

No reply except for a grudging shrug of her good shoulder. Josh went into the bathroom and returned with materials to re-dress her wound. He worked quickly, ignoring her glare and the stubborn set of her jaw.

Now that he was thinking clearly, he fought to restrain his own anger. Why hadn't she come to him first? Did she think she had to protect him? That it was better for her to go up against an intruder alone, injured, than both of them together?

"What's next, a temper tantrum?"

She startled, her eyes wide. "Do you think I like this, being helpless?"

"I think you're stubborn and used to having things your way and now that isn't happening, so you're feeling sorry for yourself and taking it out on me."

"Give me a break." She started to get up.

"Sit!" he commanded, surprised when both she and Hershey obeyed. "What's really going on here, Kate? Is our arguing all night going to solve your problems? Is it going to bring Rob or Sergeant Conrad or Dimeo back or get a killer off the street?"

She looked down and shook her head. "You're right."

"I am?"

"I guess I was feeling sorry for myself. And," she paused, "I'm scared."

The last came out in a barely audible whisper. He felt certain that it was the first time those words had ever passed her lips.

The thought almost broke his resolve. He wanted to pull her into his arms, promise to protect her, promise her the world. Instead, he took her chin in his hand and brought her face up.

"Listen to me, Kate. It's okay to be scared. I'd be worried about you if you weren't in these circumstances. That's what fear is, a protective reflex. As long as you don't run away from it, let it push you into foolish heroics."

She said nothing, but her eyes cleared and her expression relaxed. Josh was desperate to hold her again, kiss away her fears, but he couldn't allow himself to. His muscles were stiff with the effort it took to keep his hands off her.

"It's late, we're both exhausted. Why don't you curl up here? Hershey and I will keep the bogeymen away." The words escaped his lips before he could realize the torture he was inviting upon himself. Still, better she was here safe at his side than alone in the dark.

She didn't respond, merely sat there, hands dangling between her knees as if she'd lost the will to make a decision. Finally he walked around to the other side of the bed and crawled under the covers, then clicked off the light when she didn't move.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked, knowing that some things are better spoken of in darkness.

"No. I'm fine," came her mumbled reply.

"Is it about your friend, Jenn?"

Silence, except for the sound of her sigh reverberating around the dark room.

"If Turner's been spouting those lies-what could she be thinking?" Her voice caught. "But how can I face her? Turner's right about one thing. Rob would still be alive if it weren't for me. He would have taken that spot on day shift and he'd be home right now..."

Her voice faded away. Josh sat up against his pillows. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could make out her form. He yearned to draw her near to him, but knew she needed distance, the illusion of being in control.

"Maybe tomorrow we can drive over to see her, you can explain to her," he suggested.

She remained silent, but she pulled her feet up and drew the covers over her legs as she leaned back against the pillows. Hershey jumped up, snuggling in between the two warm bodies.

"See, you're safe here," Josh said. "Even got a chaperone. Hope you don't mind snoring. I don't snore, but Hershey does."

The bed vibrated with her soft chuckle. He stretched his hand out to rest on top of the covers. A few moments later her hand covered his.

"Thanks, Lightner."

CHAPTER 27.

Kate woke, and her first thought was of going back to sleep. For another two thousand millennia or so. She remembered dreaming of lullabies and wild flowers and the house with the red shutters. Remembered feeling safe with Lightner's warm body nestled beside her.

Then she opened her eyes and looked around. Lightner was gone, the comforter on his side of the bed pulled back neatly. She hadn't dreamt it.

How had she let everything get so complicated? What should she say to him, how should she act? If it had been a simple one-night stand she could handle that, but there was a lot more at stake here.

She smiled as she remembered what a gentleman he had been. She had never met anyone like him. A man who wasn't thinking only of himself, who put her needs first. This was serious business. She couldn't risk hurting this man; he'd done too much to help her already.

She showered, her thoughts still on the definitely non-professional aspect of her relationship with Dr. Lightner. Once she had her shoulder immobilizer back in place, the throbbing in her side died down. For the first time in a week she was actually eager to begin the day.

Kate stopped and cursed. She'd been so busy mooning over Lightner, she'd almost forgotten that there was a cop-killer out on the streets. And that she was sidelined from joining in the hunt to find him.

What was she supposed to do? Crochet doilies? Irritation surged through her, wrecking her contented mood. Wasn't going to happen.

Today was the day she took back her life. She'd go down to the House, have a talk with Carter, convince him to let her go back to her apartment-the one place she knew the killer would be going.

She stopped midway down the stairs, feeling like a voyeur. Intense yearning to find a place in the scene before her collided with reality, leaving her with a clenched stomach and jaw.

Lightner stood at the stove, deftly scrambling eggs in a cast iron skillet with one hand while playing tug-o-war with Hershey with the other.

The dog jerked and pulled, obviously loving every moment while the man cajoled.

"C'mon you old mutt, that the best you have," Lightner teased the dog, letting loose with a fake growl.

Hershey abruptly dropped his weight, pulling his master off balance, thumping against the floor. Lightner lost his spatula in the eggs and almost toppled a stack of toast before finally surrendering.

"Hey, I want a rematch," Lightner called as Hershey dragged the pull toy off into the family room.

Sunlight painted the kitchen in broad, bright streaks. Lightner wore jeans and a flannel shirt, his hair still damp. Kate watched him stir the eggs, imagining what it would be like if they had made love last night, if they were together as a couple. She could wake to this everyday. She had the sudden image of Lightner wrapping his arms around her, kissing her tenderly while the eggs burned.

That was is what ordinary people did on Saturday mornings, she thought not a little wistfully. Was this a life she could ever have?

Her elbow banged against the stair rail, the pain jolting her from her idyllic fantasy. So much stood between her and any kind of normalcy it was laughable. She blew out her breath. Lightner deserved better than the chaos and uncertainty that was all Kate had to offer him.

He deserved the perfect life she could only dream of.

The life she may never have. Anger and regret propelled her the rest of the way down the stairs.

"Good morning," Lightner sang out, his chipper tone fueling her irritation. "Just in time."

He scooped a pile of eggs onto a plate, added toast and set it on the table, pulling out a chair for her. Kate's nostrils flared and she yanked the chair from him. "I thought you were going to stop treating me like an invalid."