The sky over the lake was getting cloudy. Or was that smoke in the distance?

No smoke. The answer came immediately and firmly.

Sunlight. Children playing. Blue delphiniums growing straight and proud on the hillside. How she loved delphiniums. . . .

They were out of the elevator and he was leading her toward the parking lot. "Only a little longer, Kerry." He opened the door of a black Lexus. "Jump in, Sam." Sam jumped into the car and immediately settled down on the seat. He opened the passenger door for Kerry. "I'll have you home in no time."

He was smiling as he helped her into a boat at the dock on the lake. Then he was rowing, his oar lifting and falling in the glittering blue water.

He pulled into her driveway and stopped the car. He reached for her purse. "I need your keys." He pulled them out, opened the rear door for Sam, and strode up the steps to the front porch.

They had drifted under the overhanging branches of a weeping willow and she could see the reflection of the lacy fronds in the water. He was smiling at her. Warmth. Safety. Joy. "Kerry." He was holding out his hand to help her from the boat. "Come with me."

Where? It didn't matter. She knew wherever he led her would be beautiful. She took his hand.

They were going up the front stairs. Sam was tearing around the porch and Silver let him into the house before he pushed her gently into the foyer. He followed her into the house and closed the door.

He leaned back against it and drew a deep breath. "Thank God."

Clouds again over the lake, she noticed uneasily. She didn't like it. . . .

"Not clouds. Smoke," Silver said. "I can't keep it away from you any longer. It's smoke and it's getting thicker. But it's not going to hurt you anymore. That part's over, Kerry. I'm getting out. I'll try to do it slow and easy, but it's going to be a wrench."

Smoke was swirling about her like fog, obscuring the lake and the willow and the children. And beyond the smoke . . .

Fire.

Charlie!

She screamed.

Easy." Silver grasped her shoulders. "You knew it was coming. Accept it."

"He's dead. Charlie's dead."

He nodded. "He died about five minutes ago."

She closed her eyes as she tried to absorb the shock and sorrow. "How do you know that?" Her eyes flicked open and she tore away from him. "And what the hell are you doing in my house?"

"Trying to keep you from blowing your cover. And don't give me any grief." He added roughly, "I'm too pissed to feel sympathetic at the moment. Do you think this was easy for me? I suppose I could have left you in that closet until someone found you. But by that time you'd have probably had to be treated at the local funny farm."

"Get out of here. I don't know who you are and I don't care." She moved toward the telephone. "I have to call the station."

"To find out what you already know? Charlie's dead. The other man on the staircase is on his way to Grady Hospital. He'll probably live." He paused. "And you suspect who I am. Or at least what I am."

"Go away. Maybe Charlie's not dead. It doesn't have to be true." She dialed the station number and Dave picked up. "Dave, I heard there was trouble at-"

"Oh, God, Kerry." His voice was cracking. "Charlie. What a hell of a-I knew him for thirty years. He was thinking about retiring in the spring. Why did it have to happen to-"

She hung up. She couldn't take any more. She leaned her head against the wall, the tears flowing down her cheeks.

"I'll give Sam some water and make a pot of coffee," Silver said quietly. "Come when you're ready. Kitchen's down the hall, right?" He didn't wait for her answer.

She moved into the living room and dropped down on the couch. She should call Edna and see if she wanted her to come over. No, not now. She didn't even know if she'd been notified yet. Kerry dropped her head on the arm of the couch and didn't try to stop the tears from coming. Charlie deserved tears. . . .

She could hear Silver in the kitchen saying something to Sam. This stranger was clearly making himself at home, and yet she felt no sense of threat. Maybe she was too stunned to feel fear.

Or maybe he was making sure she wasn't afraid. That thought was terrifying in itself.

She wouldn't think about it. She was too upset to deal with anything right now. She'd give herself a little time to regain her composure before she had to go and face him. She'd close her eyes for just a moment and escape from all the pain and sorrow. . . .

She was sleeping.

Silver stood in the doorway and looked down at her, curled on the couch. He knew it was a sleep that wouldn't last long. She'd been exposed to too much and had to recoup from the overload. He'd seen it many times before.

She looked almost childlike with her tousled, short, chestnut hair and smooth, satiny complexion. But she wasn't a child. She was tough and stubborn and was going to give him a hell of a bad time.

So stop feeling sorry for her. He'd try to give her something in return, but there was no doubt he was going to use Kerry Murphy.

There was too much in the balance for him to walk away now.

It was over an hour before Kerry woke and another fifteen minutes before she felt steady enough to leave the shelter of the living room and go to the kitchen to face Silver. If that was his name. How could she be sure anything he told her was true? He'd exploded into her life when she was at her most vulnerable and he was still only a shadow figure to her.

She stopped in the doorway. He was sitting at the kitchen table, talking on the phone, and he didn't look in the least shadowlike. He had dark hair and dark eyes, was somewhere in his mid-thirties, and powerfully built. Yes, power was the key word to describe him. He exuded authority and confidence. The impression was so dominant that it made no difference that he was dressed in faded jeans and sweatshirt and that his features were less than handsome. Particularly now that he was frowning at something that he was hearing on the phone. He glanced up and saw her and said quickly, "I'll call you back, Gillen." He hung up and rose to his feet. "Sit down. I'll get you a cup of coffee."

"I'll get it myself." She moved toward the cabinet. "After all, it is my house."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself." He sat back down. "Just trying to be accommodating. I promised I'd be nice to you." He scowled. "It's been damn hard."

She stared at him in disbelief. "I couldn't care less whether you're nice to me or not. I don't know you and I don't want to know you. I lost a good friend today and I just want you to get out of here and leave me alone."

"Can't do it." He sipped his coffee. "I need you. Believe me, if I thought I could get the same kind of help somewhere else, I'd be out of here. I've had a hard week and you've made it tougher. Sit down and we'll talk."

"I don't want to talk." She poured her coffee and had to steady her hand before she picked up the cup. "I was pretty much out of it, but I believe you were kind to me earlier today. But that doesn't mean you can barge into my life. If you don't get out, I'll have to call the police."

"You don't want to call in the cops. Any questions they ask me may have awkward consequences for you." He added, "And you're not going to get rid of me until you sit down and listen."

She hesitated, staring at him. She was tempted to tell him to go to hell, but there was something she had to know, something that was filling her with fear. She slowly moved across the room and sat down at the table. But she found she couldn't ask that question yet. Instead, she asked, "How did you know I was in that closet?"

"You were sending out a distress call that was nearly blowing my mind." He studied her expression. "You're afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid."

"Not that I'm going to mug you or rape you. You're afraid I'm going to intrude." He shook his head. "No way. It hurts too damn much."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The hell you don't." He shook his head wearily. "I was told you were stubborn and preferred to turn a blind eye. I meant to be patient and kind and all that crap, but you blew me out of the water. You must have really liked this Charlie-"

"Of course I liked him. He was a great guy."

"But not too perceptive. He liked you, but he never realized how you were using Sam."

She stiffened. "Sam?"

He sighed. "Okay, let's jump over this hurdle and get things out in the open. Sam's a nice pup, but as an arson dog he's a complete washout. He couldn't sniff out a beefsteak in a butcher shop."

"You're crazy. Everyone knows he's the best arson dog in the Southeast."

"Because that's what you wanted everyone to believe. You didn't want anyone to know the truth." He paused. "You didn't want them to know that the only way you knew where and how the fires were being set was that you saw it being done."

"You're nuts. Do you think I'm some kind of pyromaniac?"

"No, I think you have a special psychic talent triggered by fire. If you come anywhere near the area a fire was set, you receive vibes; sometimes you actually see it being done. In cases where you have a relationship with the people involved in the fire, you don't have to be close." He was silent a moment. "Like with your friend Charlie. You connected and couldn't get away."

Smoke. The door on the third floor. Backdraft.

"Steady," he said quietly. "It's over now."

She drew a deep breath. "You seem to think you know a good deal about me. Who are you? Some kind of reporter?"

"No, and I have no desire to let everyone know how you're using Sam. That's your business."

"That's good." She tried to smile. "Because it's all ridiculous. No one would ever believe that hocus-pocus."

"I agree. It's a nitty-gritty world with no room for fantasy. I can understand perfectly why you needed to protect yourself. You wanted to make sure the bad guys got what was coming to them, but you knew you'd be laughed out of your job if you didn't have a way to validate what you were seeing." He reached down and patted the Lab's head. "Enter super arson dog Sam. But you could have picked one who had a little more credibility."

"I don't need your understanding. And Sam's just fine." She moistened her lips and looked down into her coffee. "And if you're through making outrageous guesses, maybe you'd like to tell me why you're here."

"I have a job for you."

"What kind of job?"

He studied her for a moment. "You're not ready yet. You'd turn me down." He stood up, reached in his pocket, and threw down his rental-car keys. "Use my Lexus if you need it. I'll arrange to have your SUV towed from the fire station back here. I'll be in touch."

She glared at him. "Don't you dare walk out of here. I want answers."

He smiled faintly. "There's only one answer you really want right now. It's to that question you've been afraid to ask me." His voice lowered to a murmur. "The lake. It was pretty, wasn't it? I worked very hard to make it beautiful for you. And, no, you aren't going bonkers." He threw a card on the table and headed for the door. "That's my cell number. Call me if you need me."

"Wait. Dammit, who sent you?"

He glanced over his shoulder. "Michael Travis." A moment later she heard the door close behind him.

She felt as if she'd been kicked in the stomach. She'd last seen Michael five years ago and she'd sworn she'd never see him again. She'd thought he was out of her life.

Stop panicking. She slammed the door on Michael all those years ago and she could slam it again.

But could she slam it on Brad Silver? She had an idea he was completely different from Michael. Less patient, more ruthless, more direct.

How did she know that about him? she wondered suddenly. He was a stranger.

Oh, God, the lake.

Or it could be just her own judgment of his character. This connection she felt with him didn't have to be anything bizarre.

Yes, it did. He was bizarre. If he'd managed to do what she thought he'd done, then he was even more of a freak than she was.

But she wasn't a freak. She'd learned to deal with her problem. And she could still do it. Nothing was changed. She could send Silver on his way and get her life back in order. But first she had to make sure he stayed away from her, and that meant getting Travis to call him off.

She drew a deep breath, reached for her phone, and quickly punched in the number she'd not dialed for over five years.

"What the hell are you doing, Michael?" she asked when Travis answered the phone.

"Kerry?"

"You know damn well it's me. I told you to stay out of my life, and that included turning loose any of your sycophants to make my life miserable."

"I suppose you're talking about Brad Silver? If you knew him better, you'd realize there's no way he's anyone's sycophant. Silver is a law unto himself."

"You sent him. You told him about me."

"Yes. I thought long and hard before I did it, but I decided that it was necessary. He needs you."

"Bullshit. Call him off, Michael. I don't want him anywhere near me."

"That may be difficult." He paused. "You're very upset. What did he do?"

"He's . . . weird."

"But he's not stupid. He wouldn't have tipped his hand if he hadn't had to do it. Did something happen?"

"I'm not talking to you any longer." She tried to keep her voice steady. "Just tell Silver to stay away from me."

"What did he do?"

Blue lake, delphiniums, a child running.

"I think you know what he did. He's like you and Melissa and all those other people you told me about." She bit hard on her lower lip. "No, he's not like them. He's . . . different."

"Yes, he is. He's a controller."

"Controller?" Anger seared through her. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about. Is this one of your stupid mind games? I won't have it, Michael." Panic followed rage and she whispered, "My God, I didn't even know there were people like him."

"Shh, I'm sure he never intended to-"

"I don't want to hear it."

"He frightened you." Michael sighed. "If you'd let me explain, you'd see that he's not as bad as you think."