As he'd been doing every day, Dan drove down the street where Maris had been hit. Did he hope to find a blue Chevy with front-end damage and a shattered windshield parked as bold as bra.s.s at the curb? Stupid, this daily ritual, and obsessive. He thought about the guy in the hospital, a man familiar to him and not to Maris, but as the hit-and-run had taken place fairly close to Dan's house, it might be a friend of a neighbor he had seen on occasion. The picture in the paper ought to help. He kept an eye on Maris as he drove along the road in case she got upset, but she didn't appear to recognize the location when they pa.s.sed it, staring out the window with a tired, disinterested expression. When he got her back to his place, he'd make sure she was tucked in and comfortable before heading to the station.

No one but Jamie knew she'd be staying with him, and that was the way he planned on keeping it. Jamie thought he'd gone off the deep end with a decision like that. How much crazier would Jamie view him if he found out Dan had fallen for her? Because despite the certainty of heartache Dan saw in his future-as clearly as Maris picked up on people's thoughts circling in the air-he couldn't help himself. His race along the sidewalks, listening to the commotion of the accident through his phone, had pretty much clinched it for him. Sitting at her side during her days of recovery from a hemorrhage in the vessels around her brain had sealed the deal, tied up as neatly as the laces on his boots.

And if she was guilty of murder, what then? Would his emotions just stop? He doubted it, but he wouldn't stand in the way of justice. He couldn't, no matter how slow and painful the death inside of him would be.

Chapter 16.

Dan tucked the blankets around her shoulders as if she were a child. Maris shook her head at him. "Do you have children?"

"No. My ex-wife and I...we didn't want to have any for a while and then, well, we didn't. I guess that's a good thing."

Maris wriggled her arm free. She reached for the magazine he'd placed on the nightstand. "I'm not really tired."

"I don't care. Last thing I need is you stumbling down the stairs or something while I'm gone. I'd appreciate it if you'd stay put." He removed the magazine from her hand. "Even though I gave you that, you shouldn't be reading it. I think the term is brain rest.' Close your eyes."

She snorted. "Yes, sir." A second later, she cracked one lid apart and discovered he hadn't moved. Dan, don't look at me like that. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I'll be back in an hour or so. I'll bring some soup."

"I don't have a cold."

"Will you just let me be kind in my own way? Please? Besides, there are no groceries in the house."

She grabbed his hand and folded her fingers over digits still chilled from the cold rain. "Thank you. I appreciate that you came to the hospital and sat with me every day, too. The nurses told me," she added, before he a.s.sumed otherwise. She'd lost her psychic connection with him until the fourth day of her hospital stay when she'd opened her eyes and heard footsteps in the hallway, followed by his voice in her head. You'll be awake today, Maris Granger. Today is the day. She'd been moved from ICU that afternoon to a regular room.

Dan pulled his hand back. "I've got to go."

He shut the guestroom door as he departed, and several minutes later she heard the front door close. The rain pounded harder on the roof.

He'd been puzzled by her insistence of taking the spare room but hadn't argued. She didn't belong in his bed. Not in that way. Theirs was a relationship rushing backward. She visualized it as a time-lapse video in reverse, the flower starting in full bloom and minimizing in growth until the green sprout disappeared into the earth, a seed closed and awaiting sunlight and warmth that would never come.

There was no hope for them. The aura like a dark second skin, flaring and shrinking around Dan's body, was still there, and she had no idea what to do about it.

Dan handed Jamie Rogers the sketch. "So, you think you could get that in the paper?"

"What really makes you think this might be the guy?"

"Nothing stronger than a hunch." Dan ground a knuckle into the base of his skull. "Got any aspirin?"

"A hunch, huh?" Jamie pulled a bottle out of his drawer and tossed it in Dan's direction.

Dan popped the cap and took one without water, grimacing at the taste, but the pill went down. "One of my own. Not hers."

"How's Maris doing?"

"Good." Dan recapped the aspirin and handed the bottle back.

"You don't sound so sure."

"I'm not. I don't mean health-wise. The doctor said she's recovered, rather amazingly, but she can't, you know, drive or anything."

Jamie arched a brow at him. "Anything?"

"Shut it, Rogers. I'm not an animal. That's fine."

"Then what's up?"

"She...she's different somehow. I can't quite explain, but she doesn't seem herself."

Jamie opened the drawer and returned the pain reliever to its place. He slipped the sketch into a folder. "No offense, but how well do you know her that you can tell she's changed at all?"

Dan said nothing.

"Plus she's been through some nastiness. Give her time."

With a snort, Dan crossed his arms over his chest. "Listen to you. I thought you condemned my thing with Maris."

"What makes you think I still don't? But it's your life, and you and I have been friends for a long time. I'm just trying to be there for you, buddy."

"Don't call me buddy."

"It's better than what I'd like to call you for the risks you're taking. What am I supposed to do with this sketch, anyway, since it's only a hunch?"

"Person of interest. Word it so it looks like we think he's a witness. People might be more inclined to come forward with information about him then."

Jamie stared for a few seconds before nodding. He stood. "I'll contact the paper tomorrow. Want to go for a beer or something?"

Dan rose, too. He put the chair back where it belonged. He thought about Maris, hoping she'd fallen asleep. "Sure. Only one and a bite to eat. Somewhere they have soup because I told Maris I'd bring some back for her."

"Listen to you, all domesticated and s.h.i.t. Don't you have a can in the closet somewhere?"

He glared at Jamie, who burst out laughing.

"Kidding, Stauffer. Just kidding. Follow me to the Sickle. They always have great soup. And it's quiet there." Jamie lowered his voice. "I have a few things to tell you."

Twenty minutes after consumption of their meal and a second beer for both of them, Rogers still hadn't opened up. Dan signaled the waitress and asked her for an order of the minestrone to go.

"What's your hurry?" Jamie said. "Afraid your girlfriend won't be there when you get home?"

Dan lowered his gla.s.s to the table. "What's your f.u.c.king problem all of a sudden?"

"Sorry. Nothing. Well, that's not true. You...you always were, I don't know, confident? Secure? You've been antsy this whole meal, like you can't wait to get out of here."

Spinning his gla.s.s in the ring of condensation, Dan considered his reply before opening his mouth. "I'm not any less confident or secure than I was. What you mean is that I used to treat the women in my life without any real concern. But now, there's someone I worry about. What the h.e.l.l is wrong with that? You and Roxie have been together how long? Five years? Are you telling me you don't give her any consideration?"

"Of course not, but that's different."

"How?"

Jamie remained silent, his gla.s.s wrapped in his fist. His gaze shifted to the remnants on his plate and stayed there.

Dan pulled out his wallet and placed a twenty dollar bill on the table. "I'll leave that with you. I'm a.s.suming you're not ready to leave?"

Jamie lifted his head. "Do you want the latest or not?"

"On what?"

"The Mabry case."

"Yes, but if you're in the mood for being a jacka.s.s, I can wait another day."

"I'm...I'm good. Sit down, wouldya?"

Dan hadn't realized he'd gotten up. He eased back into his seat.

"Want another one?" Jamie nodded at Dan's empty gla.s.s.

Dan shook his head.

"Suit yourself. Yesterday we pulled a lot of boxes out of the old lady's attic." Jamie rushed right in without preface. "Photo alb.u.ms and paperwork, in case there's more family than Maris is letting on, or perhaps even knows about. Families get estranged. There's always a possibility of someone else. So far, nothing, since we can't tell who's who in the pictures. There're no names in the alb.u.ms. No one else knows Maris is out of the hospital. I haven't said anything because the Chief is pushing to get her in to go through them. If we have more names, we can start trying to track people down."

Dan sighed. "Unfortunately, family makes the most sense. But only if one of them had a real vendetta or stood to gain something. I can't see that old woman p.i.s.sing somebody off at this late stage in her life, can you? What about a Will?"

Jamie's next beer arrived. He took a sip before answering. "Well, that's the kicker, Stauffer. There was a Will, leaving everything to the surviving blood relations in a direct line from the two sisters. With Maris's grandmother's children all dead, I guess that reads any grandchildren now. Alva had an estate worth three million dollars. Who would have thought, huh? According to her solicitor, Alva had been getting ready to change the Will, but she didn't come in to do it. At the time the Will was drafted, the attorney is pretty sure there were several living family members, but the doc.u.ment was signed years ago. He has no idea who has survived. I know Maris insists she's the last in the line, so if we can't locate somebody else in her family, it's going to be down to just her. Any alibi she has better be rock solid at that point."

"Jesus Christ." Was that a prayer? He thought it might be. He'd uttered quite a few of them over the past several days, poorly worded with basic intent. Dan stood again, accepting the bag with the container of soup from the server. Jamie reached out for the check. "Try and get me a couple of days, Jamie, if you can. She's not in good shape. A bit more rest would help so her head is clear. She's concussed and isn't supposed to be engaging in any strenuous brain activity. She can't even read or watch TV. Looking through those photo alb.u.ms isn't going to help. Or the stress. She has the instructions she left the hospital with if you need them. They spell her limitations out pretty clearly."

"Okay. As soon as the request is official, I'll let you know. I'll take a copy then."

Dan extended his hand toward Jamie, who took it after a brief hesitation. "Thanks," Dan said. "Sorry for being sensitive. I understand your concerns."

Jamie released the handshake grip and waved in dismissal. "If we don't find any blood relations alive, she's going to need a lawyer. You know that, don't you? A lawyer to present her alibi in concise terms with every ounce of proof available."

His gut in knots, Dan nodded and exited the restaurant.

With a finger in each dangling handle, Maris slowly pulled Dan's desk drawer open. She gazed down at the Priestess card, an image that had come to her in a convoluted dream. So much of the dream made no sense, but she remembered the card had a main part. That and the words don't touch it. Naturally, she awoke with an intense yearning to disobey and do that very thing.

After a moment, she shut the drawer. Her fingers tingled with the desire to s.n.a.t.c.h the card out of the darkness within. But the atmosphere of danger pervading the dream was strong enough to deter her foolishness. Turning on her bare heel, she gazed at Dan's neatly made bed. Warmth danced over her skin in memory. Why couldn't she love a man like that?

Because, when he was gone, she'd be a hollow husk. Nothing of herself would remain.

Maris shut off the light and returned to the guestroom. She climbed back beneath the covers. She wanted to write the elements of her dream into her diary, describe the impact of the card, but the journal was tucked away in her canvas bag on the other side of the room. Energy flagging from her stroll in Dan's room, she decided not to get up. Her stomach growled. Where were Dan and the promised soup?

Reaching up to finger the edges of the bandage, Maris listened to the sounds of the house around her. The rain had stopped, but the intermittent drip of water in the downspouts continued. Wind rattled a window frame somewhere, and the compressor behind the refrigerator hummed into life like the distant rumble of a pa.s.sing car. Too noisy. Possibly needed a cleaning.

Maris snuggled down under the soft sheets and blanket and closed her eyes. She'd hear the front door when he returned and wake up again...

She opened her eyes to a darkened room and a silhouette standing over her. She let out a shriek that would have shamed her if she gave a d.a.m.n. She flailed out, striking someone squarely in the stomach.

"Maris! It's me!"

Maris heard a scramble in the vicinity of the nightstand. The lamp flared into life. Maris s.n.a.t.c.hed up her pillow and tossed it at Dan. "You scared the living c.r.a.p out of me!"

"Sorry. I came in, and you were asleep, so I turned off the light."

"Why were you standing over me like that?"

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clutching the folded top of a brown bag in one hand. "I...I was listening to make sure you were breathing. I started to worry that maybe...maybe you weren't."

"I'm breathing. I'm fine. I'm only tired. And really, really hungry. Is that soup?"

He held out the bag. "Minestrone."

"Is there a spoon in there?"

"Yep."

"Thank you."

She took the bag from Dan and slid over automatically to make room for him. "Oh. Sorry. You don't have to. I'm sure you have things to do."

He sat, propping several pillows against the headboard for both of them.

Maris pulled the container out of the bag and opened it. Steam rose from the contents. "Want some?"

He shook his head.

"Is it okay to eat in bed? Don't know what your house rules are."

"They're all annulled for an invalid houseguest. Eat up."

She did, with relish. In the hospital she hadn't had much appet.i.te. Grat.i.tude for her release-for her life-probably explained the return of it. He spoke as she ate, his arm draped lightly across her back, his hand at her nape.

"Not now, but soon you will have to go to the station to look through photos. Jamie ordered alb.u.ms and paperwork removed from your aunt's attic. They're looking for identification of family members to determine if any of them might still be alive."

"I told you-"