"Or I had a psychic premonition about her, which is what happened," Catherine said firmly. "You can believe me or not, but that doesn't make it untrue."

"If I agree that you had a vision, will you stay for a while and help me sort this out?"

She knew he was giving her premonition lip service to get what he wanted, but she also knew that she wouldn't leave yet. If her nightmares were ever going to stop, maybe she had to take action, get involved, at least until she knew more. "I won't promise to stay forever, but for the time being I'm here," she said slowly.

He gave her a dry smile. "That's usually my line."

"I'll bet it is. You're not big on commitment, are you?"

Dylan turned the car into the parking lot next to the lodge. "Right now I'm very committed to proving my innocence in whatever crime I'm about to be accused of."

The yellow tape had been removed from the front of cabin seven, and a large piece of plywood now covered the broken window. There were no cops in sight, and as they paused in front of the cabin a group of guests on their way out of the lodge were laughing and chatting, seemingly unaware that anything bad had occurred on the property.

"Maybe we imagined it," Catherine muttered. "Everything looks so normal now."

"I'd like to believe that was true," he replied, but the plywood reinforced the fact that something had happened where Erica had been staying. "It's a good sign that the police are gone. Perhaps Erica has resurfaced."

"That would be great," Catherine said.

"Yes, it would, but you don't believe it any more than I do. I was going for the power of positive thinking."

"That sounds more like a feeling," she said with a pointed smile. "I thought you were all about 'the facts and nothing but the facts, ma'am.' "

"I'm a little off my game."

"That's not true. You got right back on your game the minute you woke up in the woods. You had the presence of mind to request drug testing while the drugs might still be present in your system. I doubt I would have done that."

"Even so, I'm still playing catch-up. I'm at least one or two steps behind Erica." He walked up the front steps of the cabin and looked through the window that had not been broken, careful not to touch anything. The last thing he needed was to leave his fingerprints.

There were no lights on inside, and he couldn't make out much, but he could see that the covers on the bed were a mess, a night table and chair were turned on their sides, and there was a lot of stuff strewn about the floor.

Catherine came up next to him. "What do you see?"

"It looks like the room was trashed." He took her hand and pulled her closer to him. "What do you think?"

"I'm not sure. It's awfully dark."

"I thought you could see through the darkness."

She frowned at that. "I'm not Superman. I don't have X-ray vision."

"Sorry, I'm not exactly clear on your powers."

She shook her head in disgust. "I knew you were going to be like this-all skeptical and judgmental. I must have been crazy to consider helping you."

"Wait, I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He gripped her hand tighter as she tried to move away from him. "That was a bad joke. I would appreciate any thoughts you might have. Really. I would."

She let out a sigh and then turned her attention to the cabin. He watched her profile for a long moment, noting the slow flush that spread across her cheeks. He heard the hitch in her breath as her pulse quickened.

Then her fingers squeezed around his, the warmth of her hand sending a rush of heat through his body. He'd initiated the contact, but now he felt a sudden, desperate need to break the current flowing between them. This time Catherine was the one who wasn't letting go.

"Erica was here. She was scared," Catherine said abruptly. "I can feel her . . . fear. She's surprised. As if she's been taken unawares." Catherine turned her gaze on him, shadows filling her eyes. "She's in trouble."

Logically he knew that Catherine hadn't told him one thing she couldn't have surmised by the facts that Erica was gone, the cabin had been ransacked, and the police were looking for her. So why did he feel as if she were seeing something he wasn't? She was just repeating what they already knew. And maybe her pulse had quickened and her cheeks had reddened because she was faking it.

"You have more than Erica to worry about," Catherine added. "Someone else is involved."

"Yeah, that makes sense. I doubt Erica could have come up with this plan on her own. She's not that clever." He paused as Catherine studied the room once more. Her body stiffened, and she gave a little shake of her head, as if she were trying to dislodge something from her mind. He could feel the tension emanating from her.

"I . . . I need to get away from here," she said abruptly, letting go of his hand. She turned quickly and jogged down the steps. She was halfway to the lodge before he caught up with her.

"Wait, Catherine." He grabbed her arm. "What the hell is going on? Is there something you didn't tell me?" He studied her face, seeing the glittering light of fear in her eyes. Was this part of her act? His logical brain did not want to buy into the fact that she had any sort of extrasensory perception, but he had to admit that she looked as though she were feeling something pretty powerful.

She cast a brief look over her shoulder, back at the cabin. "I felt like someone was watching."

"Watching us?" he echoed, searching the area for someone hiding behind a tree or around the side of the building. But they appeared to be completely alone.

"No-Erica," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"It was last night. I could see the moonlight coming in through the open window. Someone was waiting, watching her through that window. I think. I don't know." She shrugged. "I don't want to do this."

"Hey, you can't start and stop. Tell me the rest."

"I don't know the rest. I feel too involved, as if my reality and my dreams are blurring. I'm outside of it, and yet I'm inside of it, too." She took a breath. Disappointment filled her eyes as she stared at him. "You don't believe me."

"It's not a question of belief. I don't know what you're talking about. Inside, outside, what the hell does that mean?"

"It means that for a moment I felt as if I were Erica, and I could see the shadow of a man watching me. I felt her fear, her surprise, her desire to flee. But then a second later I felt as if I were outside, hiding behind that tree across from the cabin, and I was waiting for my chance to get her." Catherine's voice broke off, and she pulled away from him. "I just want to go home. I can't help you. I'm sorry. It's too hard."

"You're not afraid of something being hard," he told her.

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know that two months ago, when Jake and Sarah were in danger, you were brave enough to knock down a man with a baseball bat. You showed more than a little courage in a difficult situation. I was very impressed." To this day he wondered if they would all still be alive if Catherine hadn't been willing to put her life on the line the way she had.

"That was different. I knew what was real and what wasn't-who were the good guys and who were the bad guys. I acted on instinct. But I can't help you if you don't believe me, and I can see in your eyes that you don't. You think I'm conning you or something."

"I'm a logical person. I believe in what I can see."

"Sometimes you have to have faith."

"I lost my faith a long time ago."

"You don't believe in anyone or anything?"

"I trust my brother, Jake, because he's never let me down. He's the only one. And I've certainly never had any experience with the supernatural, so forgive me if it all sounds a little bizarre."

"I understand. You're not the first person to judge me. And I doubt you'll be the last. To be honest, I don't always understand the visions either. So I should just go home and leave you to get on with things. You can do this on your own."

"You're not the kind of woman to run away, Catherine." He didn't know why he felt such a need to keep her with him, but all of his instincts were screaming at him to hang on to her.

"I've been running away my whole life. You have no idea how good I am at it." She met his gaze head-on, and he saw nothing but truth in her eyes.

"Then it's time to stop running." He shifted his feet, searching for the right words. "Dammit, Catherine, you're the one who started this with your prediction about Erica coming into my life. Two women, you said: One is danger; one is salvation. If Erica is danger, then you have to be salvation. You're the only one here who fits the bill."

"You're used to getting your way, aren't you? Don't bother to answer. That was a rhetorical question. I'll say one thing: You're persuasive, and very good at arguing all sides of a discussion."

"So, have I convinced you to stay?"

"For the moment. Then we'll see." She gave him a small smile. "What you don't realize is that by asking me to stick around, you're putting yourself directly in my line of vision, so if you have any secrets don't expect to keep them."

Her words made him uneasy, but he told himself to get over it, because if he didn't believe in her visions then he had nothing to fear. She might be a little more perceptive than most people, but he'd learned a long time ago how to hide what he was thinking or feeling. He could keep her out of his head, and he would keep her out, because there was a part of him he couldn't let anyone see.

"So what's next?" Catherine asked.

He was relieved by the question. They were getting back to business, what he did best. "I need to check out my room in the lodge, see if Erica left me any surprises there."

Upon entering the building, Dylan felt like a marked man. The man and woman working the reception desk both gave him long, wary stares. And when he requested another room key, the woman looked very much as if she wanted to say no, but in the end she just handed him a key and asked him to be sure to check out by eleven o'clock.

"I'd like to stay another night," he said.

"I'm sorry, but your room is booked for today," the woman replied. "You'll have to collect your belongings and check out."

Dylan could see the firm resolve in her eyes. Management obviously wanted him out of there as soon as possible. He couldn't blame them. Having a possible murderer or assault suspect staying in the hotel was bad for business.

"I'll go up and pack." He paused. "Has there been any new information on the missing woman? Did the sheriff search the woods?"

The woman hesitated, then shook her head. "I know some people have been looking, but I don't think they found anything."

"That's too bad," he muttered. "Thanks."

"No problem. I hope everything was satisfactory for your stay."

"It was just dandy," Dylan drawled as he walked away. "Apparently I'm presumed guilty until I'm proven innocent," he said to Catherine as they headed across the lobby and got in the elevator. "Management definitely doesn't want me hanging around."

"But the sheriff does. Where will you stay?" She groaned at his pointed smile. "Not with me."

"Hopefully it won't be for long. Once things are cleared up I'll return to San Francisco, and you'll get back to your life."

"What if things aren't settled before tonight?"

"How do you feel about having a roommate?"

"Not thrilled. My room has only one bed, so you'll be sleeping on the floor," she warned.

"If you insist." He grinned as her cheeks flushed. She certainly wore her emotions on her face. He wondered what had gotten her so worked up now. He knew he should leave it alone, but he couldn't help himself. He liked seeing her rattled. He didn't appreciate being the only one off balance. "Is it me you don't trust, Catherine? Or yourself?"

"What? You think I can't resist you?" she asked.

"It's a question."

"A stupid question," she snapped. "Maybe if you weren't always thinking about sex, you wouldn't be in this mess. Did you ever consider that? If you hadn't slept with Erica and avoided her calls, she might not have been inclined to help anyone set you up for murder."

"I told you before, she didn't do this because I didn't call her back. She wasn't in love with me. We weren't having a relationship. We were both on the same page."

"Or so you thought. Never underestimate the fury of a woman scorned. When you tell a woman you're going to call her, you should call her."

"Just for the record, I didn't tell her I would call her." He followed her off the elevator. "I don't make promises I can't keep." He paused. "It sounds like you're speaking from personal experience. Have you missed a few calls over the years?"

"Men can be pigs sometimes."

He smiled at her bluntness. He liked the way Catherine didn't mince words. "Don't tell me you've waited for the phone to ring?" He suspected she had too much pride for that.

"When I was young and stupid," she admitted. "But not anymore."

"You don't have a high opinion of men, do you?"

"Not the ones who have been in my life. I've never met one yet who would stick around when things got tough."

"Maybe you haven't met the right man."

"Are you suggesting that would be you?"

"No," he said quickly, although he had to admit he'd always liked a challenge, and he'd love to prove Catherine wrong. If he wanted to stick, he could. At least, he thought he could. Oh, who the hell was he kidding? He didn't know if he had it in him to stay with anyone. Because it wasn't just the staying part that bothered him; it was all the rest of it-the emotional investment, the intimacy, the sharing of thoughts and feelings, the constant pressure, the incessant need to make someone happy. Shit! Who wanted that?

Shaking the distracting thoughts from his mind, he slipped his key card into the lock and opened the door. His room was not at all as he'd left it, which had been neat and in order. He'd arrived at the hotel the day before only an hour before the wedding ceremony and had used the room simply to change his clothes.

So who had messed up his bed, tossing around the covers, the blankets, and the pillows? Who had moved his computer out of its case and onto the desk? Who had unzipped his overnight bag and strewn his clothes on the floor? Someone had been in his room. Why? To search for something or to plant evidence?

"So, are you normally a slob?" Catherine asked.

"I didn't leave the room like this. Someone was in here."

"It appears that way," she agreed. "What were they looking for? Or do you think it was the police who came in here?"

"Doubtful. It would take some time to get a search warrant, and the hotel clerk certainly didn't mention it." Although he did wonder if the hotel had the authority to let the sheriff in without a warrant. That might be possible, since they were the legal owners of the property. "At any rate, the only thing someone might want would be my computer, and it's still here. I'll have to go through my files, see if anything was opened."

"Maybe we should call hotel security and make a report."

Dylan considered her suggestion but quickly dismissed it. The last thing he needed at the moment was to deal with more questions. He wanted to get a handle on what was happening first.

"Nothing was taken, so it would be difficult prove a crime was committed and would probably just focus more attention on me," he replied.

He repacked his overnight bag, slipped his computer back into its leather travel case, and surveyed the room one last time. Just to be extra careful, he opened all the drawers and the closet and even glanced under the bed, hoping not to find anything of Erica's in the room. Once he checked out, the room would certainly be searched. Of course, what he couldn't see were possible fingerprints. "If Erica came in here and touched things, her prints could be all over and would certainly hurt my alibi."