He nodded his head wisely. "Ah, yes, the transmissions."

She peered at him over her shoulder. "What transmissions?"

"The ones we've been sending into space for the past forty or fifty years. You lay people call it TV."

"I never thought of that! Maybe I shouldn't have dismissed her story so quickly."

"Zanita, I am sure you gave her credibility a more than generous hearing," he said dryly.

"Oh, but it was awful-look at my shoes!" She held up one small mud-encrusted foot.

"Poor baby."

"Why would she come up with such a-a stupid story?"

Tyber shrugged. "Too much joy juice in the sixties? We are an interesting community, aren't we? I know if I were an alien, I'd hightail here. Where else could I live undetected amongst the local flora and fauna?" He nipped her neck.

"Very funny."

"I missed you today." He kissed the top of her head.

"You say that every day." She sipped the mulled cider.

"I miss you every day."

"Don't be silly," were her words, but she scooted further back against him, letting his warmth enfold her.

He nuzzled her curls with his nose. "Don't you ever miss me?"

"Um... I guess."

His arms encircled her. "You know, it's okay; you can admit to missing me. I promise I won't tell anyone."

She laughed. "All right; I missed you too."

"I know you often drive into Stockboro just to use the word processor in your office. I thought it might be easier for you, especially when winter comes and the snow starts piling up, if you had a lap-top."

"I'd love a lap-top, but they're too expensive. I can't afford one on my salary. I have a confession to make: I'm not exactly a Rockerfeller."

"And here I thought I could woo you for your money."

She dug into her pocket, withdrawing thirty-five cents in change. "Will that suffice?"

"Yes. I can be had cheaply." He hugged her. "Seriously, let me buy you a lap-top."

"That's very sweet, Tyber, but far too grand a gesture. Besides, I'm sure we'll figure out LaLeche's scam way before then, so I'll be back in my cozy in-town apartment just a hairsbreadth from the office."

He stilled a moment.

"Christmas is only a few months away and it's our first case-it might take us longer than you think." Might take years, he thought.

She placed her hands on top of his, which were laced together resting on her stomach. "Oh, I couldn't let you do that, Tyber, really. It's so sweet of you, but please don't. Anyway, if I had a lap-top, I'd be tempted to do what I've always wanted to do."

"Which is?"

"You promise you won't laugh?"

"I'd never laugh at someone's dream. After all, I happen to live in one of my own." He gestured to the house.

"Yes, you do. Do you know how lucky you are, Tyber? To live your dream?"

"I do. But some dreams lend themselves to creation, Zanita. Take the atmosphere of this house, for instance. Atmosphere is not tangible, but can arise out of a collection of tangible things. I created the atmosphere, so in a sense, I created the dream."

"Tyberius Augustus Evans, dream-weaver extraordinaire." She cuddled into him.

He smiled faintly. "Then there are the other dreams, the ones that cannot be created. They're dreams of hope and desire. Should those dreams become reality, a person is indeed lucky." His arms tightened around her. "So what is your deep, dark secret?" He kissed her behind her ear.

"I would love to just... well, I've always wanted to investigate... the unusual and then write about it."

Tyber was not at all surprised. Somehow this was very Zanita. "Care to define unusual?"

"No, that's just it-whatever I think I should write about. I would take these unusual subjects, like the paranormal for instance, and write about them honestly. Seriously. No tabloid journalism. No slant on sensationalism. I mean real, serious exploration. If it wasn't so, I'd unveil it; if it was, I'd reveal it."

"Isn't it being done?"

"Not the way I would do it. Most articles out there are either not completely factual, or else the reader feels that the author left out a chunk of the story to support his or her particular slant. I want to do it in a totally unbiased way-report exactly what I found, whatever the subject. That's why I was so excited when the LaLeche story presented itself to me."

"Yes, but you did have an opinion about him before you met him," he pointed out.

"True, but one has to have a healthy dose of skepticism and that story is somewhat different. I still would have endeavored to write an unbiased article, regardless of my personal feelings at the outset. It's just that he's an eel and we both know it."

"So, what you're saying is, you want to explore paranormal topics, do your own investigation, and write about it." My God, she's found the perfect mathematical formula for trouble, he thought prosaically.

"Exactly! It's different when you observe someone doing the investigation and write about it. It's not the same as actually doing the investigation. Being there." She sighed contentedly. "I could really get into that."

Tyber gazed down at the top of her head, something close to horror crossing his features.

"But that's not my favorite dream."

Endless Zanita possibilities for danger rapidly traversed his mind.

She blithely continued, "If I had more time, I'd like to-" She stopped suddenly, aware that she was about to reveal another secret.

"Like to what? C'mon, you have to tell me now." While I'm still numb.

"Well, if I had a lap-top, I might like to give fiction writing a try; you know, using some of my stories as background...." Now that sounded like an excellent idea to him.

She half-turned, gazing earnestly up at him. "So, what do you think?"

I think you're going to get a lap-top for Christmas. "Don't ever give up your dreams, Zanita." He placed his finger under her chin, gently lifting her face for the tender press of his pirate mouth. "I promise you; I won't ever give up on mine."

"This wasn't too bad a drive."

Tyber threw her a look. "How would you know? You slept most of the way."

She straightened her skirt, swallowing painfully. She had been right about the scratchy throat-it hadn't gone away. In fact, it felt distinctly worse. "Did I miss anything?"

"Just a perfectly good UFO sighting."

"Ha-ha."

"Red, cylindrical object, pulsating in the sky, seeming to appear from out of nowhere..."

Her violet eyes widened. "You are joking aren't you?"

"I'm not going to tell you. Maybe from now on you won't fall asleep on me." He glanced her way. "Although it does give you a lovely glow when you wake up."

It was probably the beginnings of a fever, but she wasn't about to tell him; he'd probably insist they return home and there was no way she was going to do that. They had a toehold on LaLeche; she wasn't about to lose it now.

The South Town meeting hall was about a quarter the size of Kingston Hall. As they took their seats, Zanita noted that Tyber had been right about the audience, too. It seemed only the most devout followers from the last seminar had chosen to come to this one.

She recognized a few of the faces, surprised when several of them remembered her by saying hello to her by name. Most of them were men.

"I can't believe they remembered me," she whispered to Tyber.

He stared at her stonily.

"What?"

"Nothing."

LaLeche entered the room, going behind the podium on the raised dais. "Good evening. Thank you for coming. This is much nicer, isn't it? Smaller, less formal-I prefer it, how about you?" Everyone applauded.

Except Tyber.

Zanita elbowed him in the side; he grudgingly clapped a few times.

LaLeche scanned the audience, noting the return faces. His eyes lit on Tyber and remained there. "Dr. Evans! Glad you could make it again. It's a real pleasure." Everyone turned to stare at Tyber, wondering why he deserved to be singled out by their great one.

"Thank you, Mr. LaLeche. I was intrigued by your seminar last time and made it a point to come to this one. I'm very interested in what you're doing."

Zanita inwardly winced at the double meaning behind his words. She only hoped LaLeche didn't pick up on it. Apparently he didn't, for his next words were full of chummy cheer.

"I was never one for the formalities; call me Xavier, please." He paused, waiting for Tyber to return the courtesy. He didn't. "Well... You must stick around after we're through here tonight. I'm very curious to hear your impressions of what I'm doing."

"I'm sure you would be," Tyber said under his breath, before saying in a louder voice, "I look forward to it." LaLeche glowed.

"Maybe it's you he likes," Zanita quipped.

"Only for the size of my... reputation," Tyber flashed back, causing Zanita to blush. He chuckled.

"Cut that out! Be serious or you'll blow everything!"

He had a very good comeback to that, but refrained from using it. "Okay, baby. But remember, serious is as serious does."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Look in the third row, fourth seat from the left-Isn't that Forrest Gump sitting there?"

"Tyber, don't start again." However, when she glanced in that direction, she discovered that the man in the audience did look like Forrest Gump. Despite herself, she giggled.

"And you didn't believe me about the red spaceship. Shame on you."

She started to shush him, but sneezed instead.

"That's the fourth time you've sneezed this evening."

"Maybe I'm becoming allergic to you." She blew her nose.

"Are you coming down with something?"

"No."

He examined her face closely, noting the flushed cheeks. "You are."

"I am not!"

He took her hand in his and made to rise. "Let's go."

"I'm not leaving!" This she said a little too loudly; several people turned to stare at her. She yanked her hand out of his. "Sit down this minute and stop making a spectacle of yourself!" she hissed.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

"Because I knew you would behave this way. And I was right! Storming over people's wishes like-"

The corner of his mouth quirked. "You're awfully cranky, aren't you? I mean, for someone who isn't sick."

"-like some bloody pirate captain!" She crossed her arms and refused to look at him for at least half an hour.

LaLeche was already warming up to his subject matter. "For instance, when you introduce an electric current into a wire, it generates a magnetic field. Isn't that right, Dr. Evans?"

"Ah, yes."

"Conversely, when one sends out a healing thought, one is sending out energy with it. The greater the strength or power of the thought, the greater the flow of energy. Now the more the flow of energy, the greater the field of energy. So you see how you create a magnetic field when you generate a strong thought."

Tyber shook his head several times as if to clear it from a punch.

"So, too, with strong healing thought. You see, my friends, the body is like a motor which needs energy fuel to keep running efficiently. Sometimes the motor breaks down and needs to be recharged. The power of healing can do this, especially-especially-when you have someone who can effectively generate this energy down the right pathways in the human body. Through my special talents, I can provide and direct the energy you need to heal yourself."