"The present is Elhaz Elhaz-"

"How did you p.r.o.nounce that?"

" 'Ale-hawz.' The second is Eihwaz Eihwaz-'eye-wawz,' the third is Tiwaz Tiwaz-'tea-wawz,'" I said, p.r.o.nouncing each rune twice slowly.

"Are they all bad?"

I shook my head. "There aren't bad or good runes. They just are are. And they're d.a.m.n subtle too."

Darci patted her hands on the bed. "Will you please hurry up and tell me what they mean?"

"Sorry. Okay, the first one, the problem, indicates grave dangers lie hidden. If I'm stubborn and refuse to prepare for the challenge, I could be consumed by unknown forces."

"Humph." Darci snorted. "That doesn't sound too subtle to me, especially the stubborn part. They've got your number on that one. What about the rest?"

"The middle one, the path I should take, is Eihwaz Eihwaz. It means I have protection, toughness, and the power to defend myself. The last one is Tiwaz Tiwaz. It stands for justice, good over evil," I said, picking up the last rune and rolling it in my palm.

"But that's good, isn't it? It means you'll win in the end and Brian's killer will be caught."

"Yeah, yeah, that's probably what it means," I said, picking up the rest of the runes and putting them back in the bag. "Listen, it's late and I need some sleep. I can't be dozing off in the seminars tomorrow. You still want to go out tomorrow night?"

"You bet. I want to go to this really cool bar. Tim took me there on our date. It has a great dance floor."

Darci got up and walked to the door. Stopping, she turned and looked at me still sitting on the bed.

"After all of this, it would do you good to get out and have a little fun. Forget about killers, runes, and dreams for a while," she said.

"You're right. I'll look forward to it," I answered, smiling.

After she left, I walked to the door, locked it, and put the chain in place. Leaning against the door, I looked at the bag with the runes lying on the bed.

Darci thought it was the first rune that had scared me. Its prediction of grave danger wasn't a surprise. I was dealing with a serial killer, after all. And Darci was right about the rest of the reading. The runes showed my stubbornness and my reluctance to accept the challenge I had to face. Also that I had the power to protect myself-if only I would use it.

But Darci didn't know the whole truth about the last rune, the one that scared me.

It did mean justice and success, but it was also the symbol for the Norse G.o.d Tyr, the G.o.d of war. According to the sagas, a wolf was about to devour mankind, but Tyr tricked the wolf by placing his right hand in the wolf's mouth. The trick distracted the wolf long enough so that he could be bound and stopped from eating all the humans. When the wolf discovered Tyr's trickery, he chewed the hand off. Tyr sacrificed his hand to protect man.

Self-sacrifice. What would I be called on to sacrifice in order to stop a killer? My life? Someone dear to me? Unfortunately, the runes didn't answer that question.

Half-asleep, I rolled over to shut the alarm off. I did not want to get up. To h.e.l.l with the seminars. I'd stay in bed for the rest of the day. But I couldn't find the snooze snooze b.u.t.ton. Where was it? Aww, here it is. I pushed it again and again, but the clock wouldn't stop ringing. Finally, it penetrated my sleep-fuzzed brain that it wasn't the alarm. It was the phone. Dang. b.u.t.ton. Where was it? Aww, here it is. I pushed it again and again, but the clock wouldn't stop ringing. Finally, it penetrated my sleep-fuzzed brain that it wasn't the alarm. It was the phone. Dang.

"h.e.l.lo," I said, my voice sleepy.

"Hi, dear. Sorry to wake you, but I wanted to catch you before you left for the day. What happened at the police station?"

Abby. I should have known. I glared at the clock: 6 a.m. I sat up in bed and clicked the alarm off.

"Ophelia, are you there?"

"Yeah," I said and scooted up in bed. "I was shutting off the alarm."

"What happened?"

"How do you know I went to the police station?"

"Please-"

I cut her off. "Okay, dumb question. I went, talked to a Detective Perez. The case is still open. There have been other killings they think are related, but he wouldn't say if they were any closer to catching the killer. The DCI and the FBI are involved now."

"I see. Hmm-interesting."

"Oh, and I ran into not only Henry Comacho, but also Fletcher Beasley."

"How unpleasant for you. Did you speak with either one?"

"Oh yeah, Comacho insisted on walking me to my car. He's still cold and calculating, still convinced I'm hiding something, and still determined to find out what it is."

"What about Beasley?"

"I didn't speak with him, Comacho did. Seems he doesn't like Beasley any more than he likes me. Are you getting any vibes on him when I mention his name?"

"No."

"Shoot." I let out a long sigh. "Well, I gave him my number and told him to call me if there are any new developments. Oh, and Darci now knows. I had a dream last night. She heard me shouting and came to my room."

"What did you dream?" she asked.

I plucked at the sheet, not answering. Did I tell her about Grandpa?

Abby continued. "Was it the same as before?"

I made my decision. "Sort of. But it started with Grandpa and Comacho sitting on the swing on your front porch. They were talking, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. Grandpa was doing all the talking and Comacho was listening. I remember I was afraid Grandpa was telling him our secrets. What do you suppose it meant?"

"I don't think that part of the dream was necessarily prophetic. My house represents security to you and the detective threatens it with all his questions. What was the rest of it?"

"I was in the empty field, same as before, only this time I recognized where I was. Wallace Park. I chased the killer again, but he got away in a blue van. I didn't see his face, but for some reason, I know the van was stolen."

"Interesting. Are you going to tell the police?"

"Why would I?"

"Maybe a van was stolen around the time Brian was murdered."

"Yeah, but it was five years ago. There surely wouldn't be any evidence left by now, even if they found the van."

"It seems to me, each time you dream, you're getting a little closer to the killer. Each time you learn something new."

"Seems that way to me too. Oh, and I also did a rune reading."

"Good for you. What did the runes say?"

"I'm facing grave danger. If I don't use my resources correctly, the outcome won't be good. But I have the gifts I need. If I use them, success will be mine."

"Very good."

"Did you ever try the runes?"

"Yes, my grandmother tried to teach me, but they don't speak to me like they do you. I have better results scying with a candle."

"I don't. No matter how long I stare at the flame, I don't get any insight into my questions."

"Maybe we're trying the wrong element. Your zodiac sign is a water sign, not a fire sign. Maybe a bowl of water, with some crystals to help your concentration, would work." Abby sighed. "I wish we had more time."

I felt fear squeeze my heart. "What do you mean, 'more time'?"

"I can't shake the feeling things are happening faster than we think. And I think this is going to be a path you'll walk without me."

The fear squeezed tighter. "But you'll be there if I need you, won't you?"

"Of course, always."

"No matter what?" My voice squeaked.

"No matter what," Abby said, her tone rea.s.suring.

The fear loosened its grip a little. I couldn't imagine Abby not being with me. The emptiness I would feel without her would be unbearable.

"I'm more worried about you right now. How are you? And how's the battle going?"

"Poorly. If you haven't seen the paper, the legislature overturned the DNR's recommendation on the level of hydrogen sulfide emissions in the air. The argument was made that it would penalize all livestock operations, including those on small family farms. Our group disagrees. We feel the only ones who would have to modify their operations are the large corporations. But the legislature doesn't seem to be listening to us."

"What are you going to do?"

"For now, concentrate on stopping PP International from building the new hog confinement. We have good people working on it. If the radicals would work with us, within the framework of existing laws, we might be successful. Instead, someone's being stupid."

"What happened?"

"Someone slashed the tires on a truck belonging to one of PP International's managers, the one who oversees their farrowing operation. It happened night before last. Everyone suspects Harley and I know Sheriff Wilson talked to him, but they can't prove anything."

"I hope Bill put the fear of G.o.d into Harley."

"I'm sure he tried, but I doubt Harley will listen. Edna's worried about him."

"Abby, are you sure you want to continue with this fight? Things could get messy and I don't want you hurt."

"Don't be silly. I'm not going to be hurt. It'll be fine. We need to convince these people to work within the law. If it gets worse, I'll talk to Harley myself."

"I don't know if that would be such a hot idea, Abby. Harley's got a bad temper and if Bill can't intimidate him-"

"I can be more intimidating than Bill."

Well, she was right about that. I'd seen her stop someone with a look. But I didn't want her talking to Harley alone.

"Will you promise me that if you do talk to Harley, you'll take Stumpy, sorry, Arthur, with you?"

"If it'll make you feel better, I'll promise. But I told you: Quit worrying. You've got enough to think about now. Concentrate on what's going on around you, on developing your gifts, please. Use them to find the solution. Remember, the runes said you're in grave danger."

"All right, all right, I will. But you you be careful." be careful."

Before Abby answered me, I heard a loud noise in the background and a male voice talking, but I couldn't make out the words.

"Abby, I hear someone. Do you have the television on?"

"No, it's Arthur. He's here for breakfast. Got to go," she said in a rush. "I'll talk to you tomorrow when you get home."

Click. Abby had hung up. I sat staring at the receiver in my hand. Arthur? Breakfast? My G.o.d, it was what? I looked at the clock, six-thirty in the morning. What was he doing at Abby's at six-thirty? A thought popped into my mind. No, no, couldn't be. The woman was seventy-four years old. And he had to be at least the same age, if not older. I wiped the mental image away. I'd think about it later. Right now I had something to do.

In the bathroom I grabbed a washcloth. After looking up the number in the phone book, I dialed it. On the second ring, a woman answered.

"Police Station. May I help you?"

Placing the washcloth over the receiver, I said, "Tell Detective Perez to check the stolen vehicle records from five years ago, from the month of November. He's looking for a stolen blue van. It might have been used in the Brian Mitch.e.l.l murder."

As I hung up the receiver, I heard her say, "Wait, who is this? What's your name?"

The washcloth trick always worked in the movies, didn't it?

Boy, I hope so.

Chapter Nine.

The colored lights above the dance floor flashed to the rhythm of the music while hot sweaty bodies moved to the same beat. Cigarette smoke hung in the air in gray wispy clouds. Darci's bright red lips were smiling and her eyes surveyed the room, taking it all in.

"Isn't this great?"

"Well-" I eyed the room skeptically.

Darci's head swiveled in the opposite direction. "Oh, look over there. At the couple by the steps. That guy's a good dancer, isn't he?"