

### Butterfly Red Sky

Copyright © 2015 by Aubrey Moore

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

RipplEffect Books

www.RipplEffectBooks.com

Publisher's note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Printed in the United States of America

Edited, formatted, and interior design by Kristen Corrects, Inc.

Cover art design and photograph © Aubrey Moore

First edition published 2015

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Moore, Aubrey

Butterfly red sky / Aubrey Moore

p. cm.

e-book:

ISBN—13: 978-0-9967995-1-5

ISBN—10: 0996799516
Table of Contents

Acknowledgement

Prologue

PartI

A Dream

One Leg at a Time

Therapy

Shadow

Paralyzed

Red River Run

Kidnapped

The Truth

Fastback

Your Favorite

Colin

More

I Love You

Remember

The Accident

New Sheriff in Town

Home

Ms. Sader

Cowboy at the Door

First Lesson

Dyami

A Map

Tucker

Distraction

Part II

Tears of Blood

10:00 AM

3:00 PM

6:00 PM

Dale

Connection

Mr. Frankfurt

Tamales

The Demon in My Dream

Drug Dealer

Suicide by Cop

Red High Heel

Death is Coming

Privacy

You're Next

Ms. Brownly

Todd Lovelock

Another Body

Shadow Man

Darkness

Bonus Book 2 Red River Run Excerpt

Read All of the Red Butterfly series books

Note from the Author

Connect with Aubrey Moore

What the Fans Are Saying

Acknowledgement

To my butterfly, Kaiya. Spread your wings and fly, my love.

Prologue

This caterpillar does not just simply grow wings

First, it must alter its mind; transform the very being of itself

It must climb the tallest tree, the highest mountain

Swim the deepest of oceans

Walk through the fiercest of flames

And then, if it chooses, this caterpillar can become a butterfly

– Aubrey Moore, Red River Run

Part I
A Dream

The cold wind blew as I tugged my jacket closer to my body. I waited outside the drugstore for the drop-off. The town was quiet at 9:00 PM except for a few standing in line for the last showing at the movie theater, and the drunks lining the local bar. The rest of the town was quiet. I watched as the autumn rainclouds began to blow away, releasing the stars from the heavens. The sliver of the thumbnail moon shone down, creating a slight cast upon the wet pavement. Stragglers from the bar began to lurk in the shadows, looking for trouble, whistling at me from across the street.

"Hey baby, looking for some fun?" the older men yelled.

What was I doing here? I thought to myself. I was only sixteen, too young for a girl to be out alone in the dark, but I needed the money and I was willing to risk it all.

The man I was waiting for in the lifted black diesel truck finally pulled up to the curb and rolled down his tinted window. The men from across the street walked away—maybe they knew who the dealer was and knew not to mess with any of his employees.

I approached, thinking it would be a quick exchange, but he motioned for me to get in. As I hopped up in the passenger seat my lungs became heavy from the smell of cologne and cigarette smoke. I coughed a few times and slammed the door shut, cracking my window for fresh air. The light from the roof of his truck wasn't coming on—surely in his line of work he'd disable it.

No words were exchanged as he reached over to his glove box, his hand inches from my knee, the dim light exposing the shadows in his face. I still didn't recognize him. He threw a rolled-up brown paper bag on my lap.

"Here's the money," I said as the man took the envelope, looked inside, and stashed it under his seat. $3,000—all in hundred-dollar bills. I had counted it five times before the exchange. I contemplated stealing the envelope—running away with it, stop what I knew was wrong, but I couldn't. The money was too good. In a few months I'd be doubling what I was making.

When I went to reach for the handle of the truck to get out he stopped me. "I'm supposed to drop you off at another house next." He reached over me and shut the door, then rolled my window up.

"Todd didn't say anything about that. I'm just supposed to get the drug from you and get it to him."

I began to panic. The man started to drive off.

"Relax, Maya, it'll be quick." His voice was deep and cold as he kept his head down and out of sight. How did he know my name?

I tried to explain again I was just the mover and nothing more, but he wasn't listening. He turned his radio on to a classic rock 'n roll station and clicked the volume button up, humming along to the words. He began to drive haphazardly through downtown, turning corners too fast against the soaked roads. Speed up, slow down, the cycle making me nauseous along with the smoke and diesel smell.

"Pull over; this isn't right," I demanded. "I need to call Todd."

The man kept driving, accelerating his speed the more I resisted. I was in trouble.

He pricked me with something sharp in the neck. When I looked over, I saw him push hard down on the plunger of a syringe, releasing a yellow liquid into my body. The truck turned the corner on the last street before the woods that surrounded the city and sped up even more. My arms and legs turned to mush as I tried to open the locked door. Darkness settled over the trees lighted by his headlights, and the road went on forever.

A girl around my age stood in front of the red barn in the distance, her white nightgown and face covered in blood. Chains were wrapped around her wrists like snakes.

"Help me!" I mouthed, but the words couldn't escape my lungs. She could run for help, save us both, but she didn't move. Her long brown hair hid her face.

"This is going to hurt." The man laughed as he dragged my body through the brush, pulling the chains circling my wrists. He had dressed me in a white gown, like the girl in front of the barn. Stickers poked through the thin material, making me bleed, the gown no longer white. I looked up to the cold night sky. The stars guided my sight through the black field.

He dropped the chains; the blood flow returned to my arms. The faint sound of his radio in the distance and the crickets chirping were all I could hear in the quiet of the night.

He kicked me again when I tried to get up to get away. I dug my fingers in the dirt for a rock or stick that I could defend myself with—nothing. My body had been taken by a man that smelled of cigarettes and aftershave. I was numb, waiting for my life to be over as he pushed down on my neck, choking the last of what was in me.

The sky turned red, and I was now losing sight of the stars. I had risked it all—and for what? Death? And then a glimpse of beauty in the thick mess I had gotten myself into. A butterfly flew around my head—a beautiful butterfly with wings the color of the reddest rose and the blackest of nights. Time slowed. As I reached for it, my world began to fade and death settled over my eyes. My last breath. And then I was nothing; nothing but the winged creature in the ruby red sky.

One Leg at a Time

My phone alarm went off, reminding me of the hours I didn't sleep, all my limbs still achy from tossing and turning. I woke from a nightmare every night at 11:11 PM for the last ten months. The memory of my life before this time was still gone—vanished. Would I ever get it back?

Doctor Rivera would be excited to hear the new development of my dream at our appointment later. Finally it was starting to come together. Maybe now that I was getting more pieces of the dream she'd be able to give me more suggestions to recover my lost memory.

I looked down from my window at one of Denver's busiest streets below. The snowflakes were thick today; another storm blew in from the night and covered the sidewalks and cars parked along the street.

I tripped over my sketchbook and stumbled over my pencils I unknowingly let fall from my bed when I finally fell asleep in the night. I cringed at the snap of the broken wood and slowly opened the pouch to reveal a few casualties. Numbers 5B and 7B were goners. I'd need to buy another set before art class Monday.

One leg at a time, I said to myself as I put on my workout sweatpants, just as Fay told me. In the last month I was able to dress myself without any help, a small feat to the average person. For me, after my accident, one leg at a time was a triumph.

Today was Friday, November 18; I crossed out the date on my ocean-themed 2005 calendar and smiled. Next week was Thanksgiving, which marked the last week I'd have to go to physical therapy. I was ecstatic to have overcome the ten months spent recovering.

It also marked one month until my eighteenth birthday. My adoptive mother had a birthday party already planned. She was going to invite Doctor Rivera, Fay, and a few others I met through her physical therapy gym, and the neighbors across the hall from our apartment. I imagined what colored streamers and balloons she'd use. She wanted to make it special since I had spent my seventeenth birthday in the hospital in a coma.

Ben clanked his spoon on the bowl of hot cereal fresh out of the microwave. Tanya had him on a special diet of whole grains, chicken, and salads, which he loathed. He splattered some of the oatmeal on his dark blue work shirt and swore under his breath. He never swore in front of us, but I'd catch him in times like this and laugh. My adoptive father looked up at me as he wiped his mess with a damp paper towel. "Good morning, Maya." His voice was tired.

"Morning, Ben. Having a little trouble?" I smirked. The wet spot on his shirt frustrated him more. He nodded and reluctantly started to eat his breakfast. I sat next to him on the other barstool with my bowl of cold cereal.

His face was scruffy; his thick blond and brown hair still a mess from the night. He was only forty-five, ten years older than Tanya, and already started to get arthritis pains in his back and hands.

"I'm getting too old," he joked. "I can't even make a bowl of cereal anymore without wearing it!"

"You're just tired." I nudged his arm.

"Yeah, well just you wait—getting old sucks." We laughed.

Tanya came out of the bathroom and kissed us both on the cheeks. She looked radiant, as always, even in just a spaghetti strap shirt and yoga pants. Ben grabbed her hand and pulled her down to kiss him on the lips. I admired them for a minute as Tanya ran her long fingers through his hair.

Tanya was part Native American, black, and Irish, which made her Ben's golden gem—he treated her like one too. She bent down to the fridge to get her health drink. She was eating more fruits and veggies and going to the gym every day to keep her body fit in anticipation of getting pregnant. She and Ben had been trying for the five years they were married. No luck, yet.

Two black bird tattoos emerged from under her shirt on her back, her symbol for her parents who both died in an accident in her early twenties. She didn't have any other family besides Ben and me. She and I connected so well despite only "knowing" one another for less than a year.

"I was your age once," she told me when I asked about getting a tattoo for my birthday just a few weeks before. She wouldn't mind—Ben on the other hand would send out the Army, Marines, and Air Force, and have a strike team take down the tattoo artist before I could get through the door.

"Did you sleep okay last night?" my adoptive mother asked. I envied her dark majestic eyes and her long, straight black hair and short bangs. She was always concerned on nights she knew I didn't sleep—when the nightmares took over. She often would have to shake me from the dreams, her eyes scared when I finally woke. She'd tell me I was screaming, calling out for help, crying. Night terrors, she called them.

"Another bad dream. I'm alright, though," I assured her. I didn't want her or Ben to worry anymore. I would be an adult soon; it was time I started getting over the "terrors."

She moved the hair from my eyes and smiled. "How's your knee?"

"Stiff. Fay will straighten me out today, though." I chuckled. It had been three months since my second reconstructive surgery on it and the pain especially hit hard on cold mornings.

"Were you able to finish your math homework?" Ben asked, knowing I stayed up late to finish part of my GED course. If I stayed on track, I'd finish with my GED by March. I wasn't able to attend high school with all my physical therapy appointments—three days a week for four hours—I'd miss too much school.

Tanya and I watched episodes of Gilmore Girls just so I'd know the ins and outs of what I was missing. TV drama was a cheap thrill. I always pictured myself as the smart girl—like Rory—who had friends and a handsome boyfriend. Who was I before I lost my memory? Who had I been for the first sixteen years of my life? Was I just the quiet, shy kid like Ben and Tanya said I was? Did I really not have any friends? None at all?

"I finished; just need to schedule an appointment to take the final with the proctor in two weeks." This would mark the end of my math courses.

"We're so proud of you," Tanya congratulated me and Ben agreed.

"Wait until I pass first," I joked.

"You'll be just fine," Tanya assured me. She finished getting ready in their master bedroom while Ben and I finished our breakfasts. He looked at his watch and tapped it a few times. It only worked periodically, even after replacing the battery five times in the last month. I didn't know why he still wore it, maybe a hint for Tanya to buy him a new one for Christmas.

"Shh," he whispered and poured the rest of his cereal down the drain, turning on the disposal to hide the evidence. "And don't say anything about the donuts I'm getting on my way to work." He kissed me on the forehead and winked. I nodded and told him I'd keep it a secret. "Let us know how physical therapy goes today," he said with enthusiasm. They were also excited it was coming to an end.

"I'll call you right after," I promised.

Before anyone else could sneak into the only bathroom in our apartment, I quickly made my way in and shut the door. Tanya's makeup was scattered across the counter. I looked at myself in the mirror, glaring at the dark circles under my green eyes. Another sleepless night left me looking ghostly.

I brushed the bedhead away from my long brown hair and took off my workout shirt. The ugly scar on my chest from my car's windshield glass looked exceptionally red today—possibly from my tossing around in the night. I rubbed Vitamin E on it and let it dry. I didn't like the stickiness it left after I got dressed.

I looked at all the scars across the top half of my body and wondered if the driver in the other car ever thought of me after they fled the scene, if they ever felt remorse for hitting me. No witnesses—the person was free to go, never to know what happened to the girl in the overturned car on the side of the highway. Never to know the true pain I felt each day of my recovery—me not knowing who I really was, only the stranger in the mirror.

Therapy

"One more, Maya," Fay demanded as I lifted my right knee to my stomach. "Great job!" She helped me to my feet. A few others in the room clapped at my achievement—five rounds each leg of ten bicycle motions. I was tired.

Fay handed me a water bottle and sat me down while she examined my left knee.

"Any pain today?" she asked, concerned with knowing I often lied to her about how hard it was to do the bicycles. I always pushed myself to the next level.

"No pain, no gain!" I laughed.

"Don't push it. I know you want to be done with us, but it's important you're fully healed so you don't injure yourself in the future."

I liked Fay. She was Chinese and had moved to America when she was five. She persevered through the struggles of learning English and eventually went on to get her certification in physical therapy and opened her own gym. I wanted to ask her if she would hire me after I finished school—maybe as her assistant or receptionist.

"Thanks for everything. Are we all done today?" I was anxious to get on to my appointment with Doctor Rivera. There was much to tell her.

"Not quite. Let's take a look at your collarbone." Fay stretched my left arm up to the sky. It was also stiff this morning, another broken bone from the car accident. My body had been through the ringer.

"My shoulder feels fine." I was impatient as she circled my shoulder around and stretched out the rest of my muscles.

"Alright missy, you're done. I'll see you on Monday for your last week!"

I waved goodbye to everyone and grabbed my backpack.

Doctor Rivera's home office was right down the street from Fay's gym so I didn't have to walk very far in the snow. I rang her bell. A placard next to the door read: Camila Rivera; Psychologist, PH.D. She had been there from the beginning—every seizure, which thankfully I hadn't had in four months—and every checkup. My parents and I appreciated her being so involved with my unique case. She was determined to help get my memory back.

She smiled and answered, "Hurry, it's cold." She wrapped her sweater closer to herself and waved me through. She had the fireplace going in the living room where I put my backpack down and took my sketchbook out. "How was physical therapy today?"

"Great! Monday and Wednesday next week are my last days. Fay says I still have to go to the gym and do the exercises to keep my strength up, but I don't need to go to her anymore," I explained.

"That's wonderful. So, what's new in the world of Maya Colebrook? I see you brought your sketchbook like I asked." Her skin was dark olive and smooth. She was from Spain and spoke with an Americanized Spanish accent, her voice always comforting while I confided in her. My neurologist had suggested I see a psychologist after I got out of the hospital. Losing my memory was reason enough to go insane.

"I had another nightmare about the shadow man last night."

"Did he kill you again? Was there anything different?" she asked, pouring hot tea in two white mugs.

"Everything was the same, but this time I said a name: Todd. I'm not sure who Todd is; that's never happened in the dream before."

"We now have a name!" She was excited. "Did you see this Todd person in your dream?"

"No, I just spoke his name. But this is progress, right? I'm finally starting to put the dream together now; it's not just in spurts or flashes."

"This is wonderful. I'm so proud of you! Let me see your drawings." She sat down on the couch next to me as I flipped to the shadow man's picture. "You're so detailed."

"All thanks to you for getting me into the art class at the junior college. I've learned so much. Monday night we'll be going over shading some more. I think I've got the detail of the red barn I saw in my dream just right."

"Was the girl still there standing in front of the barn?"

"Yes—just like the other times. I tried calling out to her like you said to do, but she never moved."

"So you're trying to interact with the people—that's great. Controlling the dream is the next step. Seeing the man's face is what I want you to work on next time. The small details—like the way he talks to you—does he have an accent? What's he wearing?"

"It's hard when I'm in the moment."

"Picture the people you're dreaming about as if they're real. Ask the shadow man questions; try not to be the victim anymore."

"I'll try."

"Beautiful work." She applauded as she turned the pages of my sketchbook. "You'll be opening your own gallery soon." I never showed her any of the other drawings besides the shadow man. She insisted I use my talent and draw my visions in hopes I'd remember my life quicker. "Who's this?" She stopped at the boy in the hoodie. I quickly grabbed the book and turned the page.

"Just a boy." I blushed. He was more than a boy. He was my Sunshine. He saved me countless times from the smoky woods in my dreams at night—when I wasn't dreaming of the shadow man. His soft hands guided me out to the light. A boy—with green and brown eyes, my savior, but I didn't want to tell anyone about him. He was my secret.

"A boy? Someone from your art class?"

"He's just someone I made up." I turned the page back to the shadow man.

"That's good. It's okay to fantasize. Is he your lover?" She grinned.

"I get butterflies in my stomach when I think of him." I looked away. I couldn't tell her just how much I did fantasize about him—his red lips on mine, the way he guided his fingers down my bare back and held me until the sun came up.

"Don't be embarrassed, Maya." She moved to her flower print chair and drank her tea. "It's perfectly normal to feel this way over a boy. You want to feel what it's like to have a boyfriend. Every young girl wants that."

"I guess you're right." I flipped the pages of my sketchbook. I didn't want to fantasize anymore. I wished my Sunshine boy was real. I wanted someone to hold me like he did in my dreams.

"Has anything returned to you since I saw you last? Have any memories returned?"

"It's still dark when I try to remember. I thought these drawings would be helping." I was discouraged.

"Don't give up. Are you still writing in your journal about what you see in your dreams?"

"Yes, almost every day."

"Good. Keep writing and drawing and the memories will return. You just need to believe they will." She handed me a blank journal. "You said your journal was getting low on pages. I should have gotten you a sketchbook as well!" She laughed, noticing the two blank pages I had left to draw on.

"Thank you so much!" I examined the cover—Waterfall – Maui, HI. She knew how much I loved the ocean and how badly I wanted to see it in person.

"I was hoping you would let me read your other journal sometime?" She brushed her brown hair behind her perfectly shaped ears.

"Oh?" I hesitated. I wrote about the boy in the gray hoodie and my dreams of him guiding me through the smoke. She'd certainly ask more questions about him after reading it. "Sure, I'll bring it to our next session." I could always lie and say I forgot it.

"It's settled then." She leaned back in her chair. "How are Ben and Tanya doing?"

"They're great. Both working as usual and Tanya's still trying to get pregnant. This week she's eating mounds of blueberries because she read somewhere the antioxidants help with egg production or something like that," I teased. Tanya's regiments changed every time she read an article on how to conceive.

"How would you feel if she did get pregnant?"

"I'd be happy, of course."

"Would you feel like you were being replaced?" She took out her pen and paper. The session had started now.

"Not at all; I'd be so happy for them. They deserve to have a baby of their own."

"We definitely will follow up with this conversation when she does become pregnant."

It didn't matter if they had a baby, their own flesh and blood. I was still their kid, no matter what. They would love me just the same.

"Let's talk about your parents."

"You mean my real parents?"

"Yes. We haven't talked about them for a while. Let's start from the beginning. What have Ben and Tanya told you?"

"They died in a fire when I was twelve."

"And?" she asked.

I didn't answer her. I didn't like talking about my real parents since I had no memory of them.

"Maya, you're going to have to talk to someone about them eventually. You've known about their death for ten months now, and refuse to talk to your adoptive parents about them. It's time. At least talk to me."

I sighed. What was there to talk about? They were dead. All that was left of their memory were the burn marks on my back. I was scarred for life and I didn't even know what really happened.

Doctor Rivera spoke. "Alright, I'll talk about them and what I know." She put her pen and paper down. "You were twelve when they died in a house fire. A police officer found you wandering along a highway near the woods, barefoot, in shock. You had just witnessed your parents' death. You lived and they didn't. Do you blame yourself?"

"How can I blame myself?" I was angry. "I can't accept what happened to them because I don't know what happened to them! I don't even know their names! Why were we in the woods? Why can't the police tell me who they were? What were they hiding from?"

"You're going to have to get your memory back to know the truth. I can help you, but you can't be angry about what you don't know."

"I don't want to know. Even when I get my memory back I don't want to know. Ben and Tanya are my parents now." I hadn't realized before, but tears were running down my cheeks.

"Maya, take a deep breath and listen to me. You need to remember who they were. When your memory does return, it'll hit you like a brick and I want you to be ready for when that day comes. I don't want you angry; I want you to accept what happened in your life, no matter what that may be."

She gave me a hug and apologized for getting me upset. She was right. I needed a clear conscience before I remembered who my real parents were, whatever they did, whatever their reasoning was for hiding in the woods without an address and a name.

"Let's talk about the burn scars on your back more. What do you think happened that night? Were you trying to escape?" she asked.

"I'd like to think I tried to save them, and in the struggle of getting them out I was burned." I wiped the snot from my nose on my sweatshirt.

"That's just the type of person you are. I'm sure that's what happened." She smiled. "Tell me, what else do you wonder about them?"

"I always wonder which of my parents I looked most like. I sometimes stare into the mirror and imagine I have my father's nose and my mother's lips. Who knows, right?" Behind my tears I wondered. "Maybe one day I'll remember them."

"And you've talked to Ben and Tanya about foster care?"

"I was in and out of foster homes before Ben and Tanya adopted me. I lived with them for a little over a year before the accident. They're vague because they don't know who the foster families were. They said I never wanted to talk about it so they never pried."

"I'm sure they didn't want to make you upset. I'm very proud of you for being as open as you have been with them during this time. They obviously care about you."

"They do. And I know they do. They're all I have," I reminded myself. The only family I had.

I didn't believe, at first, that what Ben and Tanya told me about my real parents was true. Not even a newspaper article was written about their deaths—the mysterious couple with a child living secretively in the woods. My parents were nothing to nobody; not even an address was found to our home. Were they hiding from something? Who was I—besides the lone girl walking barefoot along the highway in the dark?

Shadow

I sifted through the pencil aisle inside Art World and grabbed what I needed, making sure to pick up a few extra pencils in case I lost another set in a future war with my feet.

"I'll be over looking at the cameras. Come over when you're done and I'll point out the one Ben used to have." Tanya let me finish getting what I needed.

I loved photography as much as drawing is what my adoptive parents told me. I'd often take Ben's 35mm camera down to the Red Rocks Park in Morrison, taking pictures of the wildlife and flowers. We'd develop them in the dark room at the back of the art store.

I wished I'd remember those days. One day I'll remember, I repeated to myself. I had to.

The sketchbooks lined the back wall of the mega store and I quickly found the one I wanted. Its pages—fresh, ready to be filled with whatever I wanted to fill it with—like my Sunshine and the waterfall in Maui. When I turned around I bumped into a tall boy and dropped the sketchbook on the floor. He bent down and picked it up for me.

"I'm so sorry," I said softly, my shy nature taking over. The boy didn't say anything, but didn't move. When I looked up to him my heart began to flutter. His beautiful ocean blue eyes pierced through me. He started to say something, but the words wouldn't come out. He was a few years older than me, a student at the university, possibly. Maybe he was an art student. We stared at one another for a minute; I waited for him to say something, anything.

"Maya?" The boy finally spoke, his tone reaching for the same recognition.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" I took a step back. He was gorgeous. How would I know such a good-looking boy like him? If I did know him, I surely wouldn't have forgotten those eyes. I quickly fixed the flyaway hairs around my face. My stomach twisted, waiting for his answer.

"You don't remember me?" He was saddened I didn't know him. He smoothed his buzzed golden brown hair back.

"Tell me your name, maybe I'll remember." How I hoped I'd remember him.

"It's me, Colin. How could—"

"Colin?" I didn't know a Colin. "I'm so sorry...you see, I was in an accident last year. I've lost my memory. Do you know Tanya? Maybe she can—"

"No, I'm sorry; I must have the wrong person," and as quick as he could, he disappeared behind the paintbrush aisle. I tried to run after him, but my short legs couldn't keep up against his long stride.

Tanya grabbed my arm. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah—" My eyes kept searching the store. "A boy, he said his name was Colin, just asked if I was Maya." The bells on the front door rang and I turned to see his shadow sliding off the sidewalk outside. The boy fled before Tanya could see him. There was no catching up to him now.

"Colin." Her smile turned to a frown while she looked around.

"Do you know who he is? Do I know who he is? I was embarrassed and told him I was in an accident."

"I don't know a Colin." She was stern. For some reason she didn't sound convincing.

"Are you sure? He was tall, very muscular, brown and blonde short hair, blue eyes?"

"He must have had the wrong person," she insisted. "Come on, honey, I want you to look at these cameras." She pulled me along.

Her distraction worked, for a minute, but my eyes kept glued to the front door in hopes this Colin boy would return. I wanted to know the beautiful creature who said my name.

Ben dropped me off at the junior college after dinner for my art class. I was excited to show off my new drawing of the red barn from my dreams. Mondays we critiqued each other's work. I spent all weekend perfecting my shading assignment and hoped the others would appreciate the detail.

It was another student's turn to show off her drawing and I was next. The woman, in her late forties, placed her illustration in the front of the class. A young girl, no older than me, her daughter possibly, stared out a window. Her composition was perfect and the lighting and shading was flawless. One-by-one we lined up to look at the picture closer.

A cold chill rushed by me—I looked to see if there was an open window or door, but nothing. That was odd, I said to myself. I shrugged it off and finally it was my turn to look at the artwork up close.

I looked closer at the solitary girl, imagining what she was looking at outside her window. Was she staring down at the farm boy, her lover, in the meadow? Or maybe she was looking out into her future, the great wide open.

As I daydreamed with the girl, imagining I was her, the lights above began to flicker. The girl in the picture looked as though she was moving—turning her body in the chair to face me. I quickly rubbed my eyes and a river of blood ran through her window, bubbling over her, taking over the entire picture until the paper was nothing but red. My head began to pound like a drum. What was going on?

The lights continued to flicker and then there was a loud popping noise. I screamed and everyone turned to look at me as darkness settled over the classroom.

"Hey—you alright?" An older man behind me noticed I was holding my head in pain after I yelled out. "It's just a burned out bulb." He looked at me like he couldn't understand why I was so spooked.

"Yeah." I stumbled in the darkened room to sit down as the rest of the students grabbed their phones for light. I was able to see the drawing of the girl again with their lights shining all around it—there was no blood; the picture had gone back to normal.

"Well, that's strange," the instructor said, going over to the light switches by the door and flicking them on and off. None of them turned on.

"The lights must all be connected. If one goes out, all go out," a student suggested.

"Guess we're going to call it early out today. Sorry, folks. We'll go over more of shading next week and also finish up with our critiques, so please, whoever didn't get a critique this time, bring your work. Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving!" The instructor opened the door to the classroom.

I managed to get to my feet, my head still pounding as I followed everyone out. No one offered to give me a ride, like they usually did. They all got in their warm cars and drove off while I quickly called and then waited for Ben outside in the cold.

I pulled out my sketchbook and wildly drew the girl and the red window I envisioned. Like my dreams, I could smell the blood, even taste it. I pinched my skin—was I asleep somehow? Were my nightmares becoming reality?

Then I thought of the girl in front of the red barn. Why didn't the girl call for help in my dream? The shadow man was far enough away from her; she could have run, but she didn't. For ten minutes I contemplated why, letting time pass to distract myself from how cold it was.

Snow began to fall, creating wet spots on the paper and I quickly covered my drawing to protect it. I looked all around. The campus was silent as the snow fell. No traffic in the distance or people walking around, just calm.

Through the falling snow I could see movement coming from the right of me. I watched as a tall figure of a boy moved closer. He was wearing a black snow coat and blended into the darkness of the night. The snowflakes began to get thicker and heavier, obscuring my sight. Was I envisioning the boy from the art store? What was he doing here? Was he following me?

I quickly grabbed my phone to dial 911 when Ben's tires screeched to a stop in front of me. I ran to his car and rushed inside.

"Sorry you had to wait in the snow," Ben apologized. "Maya?"

I kept looking out into the darkness, hoping the light from inside Ben's car would shut off soon so I could see clearer.

"Maya?" He asked again.

"It's fine." My mind was elsewhere. I gazed out and spotted the boy's dark figure in the snow.

"You should have waited under the cover. I know your knee always bugs you when it's damp out," he reminded me. I was too busy watching the boy in the dark to feel any pain. He was now too far away.

"I'm okay."

Ben turned around to see what I was looking at. "Is that a boy from your class?" I still couldn't fully see who it was—but Ben saw him too so I knew I wasn't imagining him. "Maya? What's going on?" He was worried now.

"Sorry Ben, I'm fine, really. It's just, that boy, I saw him today."

"Who?" He drove slowly through the thick snow.

"This boy ran into me at the art store this morning. He said my name like he knew me. His name was Colin."

"Yes, Tanya told me you two were at the art store while she was on her work break. I'm sure he just had you mistaken for someone else. He probably goes to the college."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"I know how those college boys can be!" he joked. "They're persistent when they see a pretty girl. You're too young to be talking to any of them okay?"

"Right." I faked a smile. He just wanted to keep me safe; I couldn't be mad at him for that. "Did I know a Colin in my old life?" I wasn't letting it go.

"Maya, Tanya and I don't know a Colin." He was quiet after that, the backs of his fingers constantly sliding over his mouth. He only did this when he was deep in thought. Were he and Tanya hiding something from me? Did they know this Colin boy?

Colin. Colin. Colin. I wrote his name a dozen times in my journal. He knew me. He looked right at me and said my name. The way he said it was so familiar. Did I just want to know him since I knew no one else? He was the only person in a year that recognized me. What were the odds of him knowing someone else with the same name and mistaking them for me? When I mentioned Tanya's name he quickly changed his tone. Did he know Tanya? Was he hiding from her? Why would Ben and Tanya lie about not knowing him?

Paralyzed

The smell of the twenty-pound turkey Tanya was cooking filled the apartment, making our mouths water from all the spices marinating in the oven all morning.

"Hand me the raspberries, please," Tanya asked me. She poured them into a small saucepan with the cranberries. "Perfect. Now we add the sugar." She dumped 1/3 cup into the pan. She popped the cranberries with the edge of her spoon. My stomach growled. Tanya and I both loved to cook and I was excited to learn new recipes while I enjoyed my "first Thanksgiving" since losing my memory.

"Can you also open the sparkling cider? I got your favorite—apple and pomegranate." She smiled.

This Thanksgiving was a celebration; I had made it through ten months of physical therapy, times in which I thought I couldn't do one more bicycle motion, times in which I wanted to give up. It was bittersweet to say goodbye to the people who believed in me.

Fay and the others threw me a "graduation" party and all pitched in to give me a new pair of workout shoes to ensure I'd keep up with my exercises. Tanya and I brought Fay flowers and a thank you card for all she did to help me recover.

"I'll set the table," I offered.

Ben sat on the couch watching the football game. He startled us a few times as he yelled out, "Oh come on, ref! What was that?" We'd laugh every time Tanya and I jumped.

I hadn't mentioned anything about the Colin boy, or the red river of blood I saw in the woman's drawing from class, but I needed to. I was scared to talk to them, afraid they'd be mad if I questioned what they told me before. I hoped they'd understand my confusion. Over our Thanksgiving dinner I would ask, I decided. Don't be a chicken this time, Maya.

Tanya turned on the stereo to the Eagles' Greatest Hits CD—her and Ben's favorite. After we served ourselves and listened to "Peaceful Easy Feeling," we sat down and toasted to another great year and counted all our blessings, mine being the highest.

As Tanya poured more wine for Ben, I cleared my throat. There was a gap in our conversation; now was my time.

"So, I have a question for you guys." My face turned red.

Ben dropped his fork. "You're not getting a tattoo."

"Ben!" Tanya blurted out. "If she wants a tattoo, she can have a tattoo," she said playfully.

"No, don't worry, Ben. I won't get one for a while," I teased. "But, on a more serious note." I coughed. Why was I so nervous? Just spit it out, Maya. "I want to ask about the Colin boy I mentioned before from the art store."

Their faces turned sour and I could tell I was hitting the wrong button.

"Do you not believe us?" Tanya was shocked.

"I believe you, it's just—I don't know what to think. It's been on my mind for the last few days. Are you sure I didn't know a boy named Colin? Maybe I didn't hear his name right. I saw him after class that night and—"

"Honey," Tanya interrupted, "we adopted you right before you turned sixteen. We don't know who you knew before that."

"We've told you before," Ben added. "While you lived with us, you kept to yourself and studied a lot. You loved school and only had a handful of friends."

My so-called friends never called or asked how I was doing. I was beginning to think I was a loner before the accident and they felt bad telling me I had no friends.

I was frustrated now with myself. It was me, not them, who knew Colin somehow. I was disappointed I had even mentioned it and hoped I didn't ruin their dinner.

"You're right. Once I get my memory back, I'll know." I smiled, trying to hide the tears.

Ben rubbed my shoulder. "Give it time."

I chickened out about telling them of the girl in the drawing and the blood gushing from her window. I'd have to mention it another time.

Tanya shook me awake. "Get up, sleepyhead! We're going shopping!" I looked at her and raised one eyebrow.

"Shopping?" I loved shopping, but not on Black Friday. I dreaded the crowds, but I knew I had to endure it for her.

"We've got to get up and go now if we want to get the best deals. Come on, please? We need a girls' day!" Tanya started to shake the bed so I'd get up. I looked at my phone for the time. 5:00 AM was too early and it was way too cold in my room.

I smiled as she began to beg.

"Alright, I'll go with you, but I don't want to be out all day."

Ben stayed home, not daring to step foot in the traffic of the busiest shopping day of the season. We hurried to make it to the first store when they opened to get him a new watch.

"You're going to love your Christmas gift," she hinted.

"I told you guys, no gifts."

"Right, like we're not going to get our daughter something for Christmas."

"Well, thank you. So—what is it?" I asked softly.

"I'm not telling. You'll just have to wait!"

"A whole month? You know I don't like surprises."

"You're just going to have to be surprised!" She put a warm arm around me while we made our way through the crowds of people.

Tanya stopped me in front of a fortuneteller's shop and turned to look at me with a mischievous smile. "Please?" she asked like a little kid wanting candy.

"Let's see if she can predict our future," I said ghoulishly. We laughed as she grabbed my hand.

The fortuneteller came out from the back room when she heard the bell on the front door. She wore a red fluffy shirt that was tucked into her long flowing white skirt. Her hair was black with a hair clasp holding her bangs back under a beaded headdress.

"Welcome, my friends." She seemed young, possibly in her early thirties.

"It smells great in here!" Tanya went straight for the burning incense.

"Desert Rose, one of the most popular scents right now." The woman smiled. "It is to ward off evil spirits or thoughts. There is much evil lurking in the world these days. Too much evil. Don't you think?" she asked me. I nodded.

She reached behind me for a small pouch and had us breathe in deeply as we savored the tantalizing herb. "Rosemary," she explained. "From the beginning of time, incense has been used throughout all cultures—which makes it a universal ritual, and a very powerful tool. The ancients believed all objects on the Earth inherited a soul or spirit. By burning these scents, the souls were released."

"That's so interesting. I had no idea." Tanya was excited and smelled each fragrance.

"Should we get Ben some?" I found a scent—driftwood—that he would like.

"For sure." Tanya sifted through to find the best smelling ones. "We also want a reading," she explained to the woman.

Tanya paid for the both of us as I looked around the shop at the candles and pictures of dark and magical creatures.

"Please, join me." The woman motioned for us to follow her to the back room, where a crystal ball sat on a table surrounded by several chairs.

The woman read Tanya easily. Tanya was happy in her life, the fortuneteller said, but was missing something: a child. I was astonished how she knew.

I was next. She looked at me for some time and smiled. "You're a Sagittarius. Born in the dead of a winter storm." She was good. "A free spirit, on a journey of some sort." She placed my right hand in hers. The lines in between her eyebrows thickened while she focused. "You are the element of fire, which rages inside of you."

"You've been through several traumatic experiences," she went on. "You lost someone you're trying to find. Your childhood was not kind to you either. See this line that is cut? Your soul died, but came back to life."

She threw her tarot cards on the table and quickly turned several over to face up. I was anxious to hear more.

"The Hanged Man. You want to do something about your situation, but you can't." She turned over another card. "The Upside Down Fool. You have a new beginning to your life coming soon. You may not want it, but it's coming." Hopefully this meant my memory was coming back.

"Death. There is more turmoil coming your way. There will be change and destruction, but it will follow with renewal. You have to accept whatever it is that is coming." The woman closed her eyes and rolled her head back and forth, making groaning noises. "A red butterfly is your symbol. You will become this butterfly when you remember who you are."

I looked to Tanya, her eyes affixed on the woman, her jaw almost to the floor. Suddenly the fortuneteller opened her eyes and the lights in the room started to flicker—just as they did at school. My hands began to shake.

"There's a dead girl who follows you. She stands in front of the red barn, her wrists chained together. You've dreamt of her often, like the boy in the gray sweatshirt."

"How do you—"

Before I could finish, the woman spoke louder.

"Listen to me, Maya. The girl who stands in front of the barn needs to be found. She's waiting for you to find her. You must find her." The gypsy woman's eyes rolled to the back of her head, the lights flickered more, and a glass vase broke behind Tanya.

I jumped up, away from the woman at the table. Tanya grabbed my arm as we watched the fortuneteller's eyes continue to roll back.

I held my stomach in pain—like a stab wound to my insides. Sweat sprung up on my forehead. I felt woozy and lost all control of my body. Tanya grabbed for me—and I heard the ringing in my ears begin. No, not again, I begged my body.

As I lay on the ground I was atonic, paralyzed. The fortuneteller stood above me, her eyes not leaving mine.

"What's happening?" The woman's voice wasn't concerned—it was as though she knew this would happen.

"She's having a seizure!" Tanya yelled out as she held me down. I could barely hear her as my eyes began to slowly close. "Maya! Maya!"

Red River Run

I dreamed I stood in a waterfall in Maui, letting the warm water cleanse my body. My Sunshine stood next to me, his hazel eyes peeking through his long hair, revealing more of the unknown. The spray misted our sleek and perfect bodies. I didn't have any scars or loss of memory—I was radiant—and so was he as he reached his soft hand out for me, like he always did. The sun was shining over us...until a thick black cloud blew over. Thunder crashed and lightning struck the water. Sunshine was gone when I turned around.

The water began to change from clear, to pink, to red, the smell no longer fresh—blood. I could taste it in my mouth, like the film from the shadow man's cigarette stench in my dreams.

The girl from the red barn appeared through the black clouds. Her face was bruised as though she was beaten with a crowbar. Blood dripped down her face like teardrops and oozed down the metal chains that wrapped around her wrists.

I took a step back, struck with fear and confusion. Her long, soaked brown hair hid most of the right side of her face, and her white nightgown was torn, leaving her nearly naked. I didn't know what I was seeing and I blinked several times to rid her from my sight.

We were no longer in the waterfall. A hayfield was now below me, the red barn in the distance. The girl appeared closer—within reach—and then disappeared. I searched for her in the hay, but she had vanished completely.

Worms began to squirm, my bare feet slimy from their wetness. A river of blood rushed by me through the field, carrying with it dead bodies crying and reaching their skeleton hands out to me. I fell backwards as a hand reached through the ground, sucking me under, down through the earth until the heat of Hell took over my body.

"Find me, Maya!" a girl's voice from the underworld called out.

Doctor Rivera let me finish telling her my new dream, her index finger pinned to the side of her face. I showed her the picture I drew of the girl I dreamed about; I was able to see her clearer after the seizure, and not just at a distance next to the barn. She was within reach in my new dream.

"What if, let's just say, the fortuneteller made up this story and you're just envisioning what she told you?" she asked, shifting her crossed legs. "Our dreams are often images of things we see, hear, and feel during the day."

I thought for a moment. "How would she know about the girl and my dreams? I don't know the woman. What if there is a connection—what if the girl I'm dreaming about is the girl the woman said I needed to find?" I countered. For three days I contemplated what I dreamed and what the fortune woman said. There was a reason to all this, there had to be.

"What do Ben and Tanya think?"

"I overheard them talking about it when we got home from the hospital. They were worried the fortuneteller was trying to scare me into believing something about myself that wasn't true."

"Why would she do that? The woman didn't know anything about you, right?"

"What if I do know her somehow? The boy at the art store knew my name too. What if I know these people from before Ben and Tanya adopted me?"

"I find that very unlikely."

"I want to go back to the woman, but Tanya won't let me. She says I need to stay away from her."

"She's probably worried you'll have another seizure, I'm sure. You said your CAT scan came back normal, which is great, but I have to agree with your parents. I don't want you going back to the fortuneteller."

"Why? What if she can tell me something?" I pleaded for a reasonable answer.

"Maya, she's a fortuneteller. These people are a hoax. They are professionals out to steal your money. You feel the need to go back to her because you think she has the answers to your past, but she doesn't. She's telling you lies that will make you go back and spend more money. Listen to me and your parents."

"Then how do you explain her knowing about the girl? She even mentioned the boy in the gray hoodie! There has to be a connection." Tears filled my eyes.

"Let's just take a step back. I want to try something different that I've never done with you before."

"Okay, what?" I sniffled.

"I'm going to hypnotize you. I want to see if there's a way I can reach out to you through your hidden memories. Maybe we can discover something about your past life this way. Would you be willing to do this?" She uncrossed her legs and folded her hands together, leaning forward, anxiously waiting for me to respond.

"Yes, anything you think will help. I want answers."

"Alright then, I want you to lie back on the couch and relax." She handed me a pillow. "Get comfortable. Close your eyes." Her voice lowered. "Let's get you back to the waterfall from your dream. The water feels warm as you swim through it; the exotic fish dart by your legs. You're at peace."

My body relaxed. I wanted Sunshine to be there with me, but he wasn't.

"Breathe in deep, hold it in, and release." Her voice began to fade as she counted down from ten to one.

Doctor Rivera's eyes were wide—her notepad and pen shaking in her hands. She was standing next to her glass table, now broken, shattered to tiny pieces all across her living room floor. I rubbed my eyes.

"What—what happened?" The glass crunched under my tennis shoes as I stood.

"You don't remember?" Her voice was quiet.

"No—I was knocked out completely."

"Maya, look at me." She put my face in her hands. "Don't tell anyone what happened here. They won't understand."

"What—who?"

"Just listen, I want you to go home, keep dreaming and writing in your journal. I want you to come see me tomorrow. I think I found the key to unlock your memory."

"Why can't you tell me now?" My hands started to shake. I looked around. "How did the table break?"

"You broke it."

"What? How? I'm so sorry—I didn't know what I was doing." I shook my head—how was I able to break the thick glass? And how did it shatter into such small pieces? I looked around for an object I might have thrown at it.

"Oh, Maya, you have no idea what you are capable of. You are the one we've been waiting for."

"I'm the one—what? Please, tell me?"

"Go now, Maya. I need you completely rested for tomorrow. We'll try this again. I have high hopes your memory will be returning soon. Remember, don't tell anyone." She handed over my backpack and sketchbook and had me leave. "See you tomorrow."

She closed the door behind me. My heart pounded and my bad knee began to shake and I tripped on a broken piece of concrete in the sidewalk.

How did I break the table? There was nothing around me to break it with—unless I pushed her over and she fell back into it? I couldn't breathe. What did she mean I was the one?

You're still dreaming. Wake up! I yelled to myself. I pounded my hand against my head. Wake up!

Kidnapped

I woke up.

"Shh, Maya, lay your head down." Colin, the boy from the art store, kneeled above me. He rested my head back on the pillow, but I pushed past him and got to my feet.

"What—what happened?" I held my pounding head and looked around. Where was I? Why was Colin here? And how?

"You hit your head pretty hard. Just sit down so you don't fall." He tried to balance my wobbling body. His strong hands were warm against my thin shirt. I was too delirious to ask him why he fled so quickly at the art store. He did know me.

The fire crackled behind us, sending my body even more on edge. I was in a log cabin, the living room open to the rest of the house. It was nighttime. "Where am I?"

"You're somewhere safe." He handed me a glass of water. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"What happened? I remember being dropped off by Ben at my art class after my appointment with Doctor Rivera. Why is there blood on my hand?" I held my right hand up to the light.

A girl squealed and ran over to me. "Maya, you're awake!" she cried, hugging my neck tight.

"Stacey—" Colin stopped the girl. "She doesn't know who you are."

"I'm sorry; I'm just so relieved you're alive! We didn't know what happened to you!" The girl hugged me again. Her golden locks glowed from the light of the fire. She wasn't any older than fourteen.

I backed away from the girl, tripping over the edge of the couch. "Who are you?" I asked. The smile disappeared from her face. "Where am I?"

"You're in Montana." Colin sat down next to the fireplace.

"Montana? Wait—I remember what happened." I replayed my last memories in my head. Ben had dropped me off at the parking lot; it was dark; someone had followed me as I walked across campus. He had called out to me, told me he had been looking for me, and I ran. "Someone was chasing me. It was you!" I snapped at Colin.

"I did follow you to your art class, twice actually," he admitted. "I needed to talk to you since I ran off at the art store when you said you couldn't remember me. The first time I saw you at the school, I tried to talk to you then, but you rushed to Ben's car before I could say anything."

"So you hit me over the head and kidnapped me?" I yelled.

"You ran away from me when I tried to tell you who I was and slipped on some ice and hit your head. That's where the blood came from."

A mixture of panic and fear rose up within me. What did these people want with me? "So, why am I in Montana? Why am I not home in Denver?" I stammered.

"You are home." Stacey got closer to me. "We're in Caldwell, Montana. You grew up here. Surely you remember Caldwell? Don't you?"

"What?" The wooziness returned. These people were nuts. If I grew up here, I would know it—I was sure of that. I looked to the front door for an exit. A large gun hung just above the doorway. If I knew how to shoot it, I could make them let me go.

"I'm sorry I scared you," Colin said, trying to assure me, "but I had to bring you back here."

Colin told me how he knew I'd be at the art store. I listened with growing horror.

"You scared me more than you think!" I said, stunning him into silence. "You're crazy! Your dead sister told you I'd be at the art store that day? How could a dead person speak to you? Do you realize how delusional you sound?"

"Yes, but just listen—"

Was he a psycho stalker? "If you ever get near me again I'll make you regret it!" I tried to sound tough. He reached for my arm. "No, stay away from me!" I ran to the bathroom, the only room I could get to quickly, and locked myself inside.

I needed to get away from my insane kidnappers and get back to Denver somehow. They banged on the door, begging me to come out. Run, I told myself.

The frosty wind struck me as I jumped down from the window onto the snow piled up against the house. I tweaked my bad shoulder.

Complete darkness was all around me. There were no headlights or porchlights in the distance.

The biting cold struck my T-shirt. I'd freeze to death, but it was better than staying captive. Get home, I repeated in my head over and over. I stumbled forward blindly through the dark.

When I thought I was far enough away from the house, headlights appeared on the road in front of me. There were no trees or bushes to hide behind—whoever was coming I prayed would save me.

"Stop!" I yelled.

The car slowed and its loud engine shifted down in gears.

"Help me!" I flailed my arms in the air.

The driver and passenger doors opened and two dark figures got out. A young man maybe a year or two older than me and an even younger boy around fourteen walked into the light of the headlights.

"Maya?" one of the boys said. My heart stopped. They both surrounded me. I tried to make out their faces, but I didn't know them.

They reached for me and I backed away.

One boy caught me before I could fall back in the snow, my knee giving out. The headlights illuminated a four-inch scar that reached all down his right cheek.

"Maya, it's me, Derek."

"You really don't remember us, do you?" The other boy stepped back. "Bummer. Well, since you don't remember me, I'm Brian." He was wearing a rolled-up long-sleeve shirt and had a cigarette hanging from his mouth—too young to be smoking. The black gauges in his ears were large.

"Maya, I'm sure you're really freaked out right now, but you need to get back in the house," Derek said. "We are going to explain everything to you." He tried to grab for me, but I moved away. "Please? Trust us."

It was no use. If I ran, they'd chase after me. With my bum knee, there was no way I could outrun them. I hesitated and, realizing I had no choice, resentfully got in the passenger seat as Derek drove back to the log cabin with Brian in the backseat. My body shook with cold and fear of what was coming.
The Truth

Colin sat me down in front of the fireplace and placed a blanket over my shivering shoulders. I flinched as his hand sparked my body. They all sat down near me and listened as I frantically begged them to let me go. I couldn't escape, not now. There were too many of them.

"I told you we aren't going to hurt you." Colin handed me a 4x6 picture as he said this.

I dropped the blanket around my shoulders, my heart sprinting. It only took me a second to recognize the girl in the photo. She was the same girl I saw in my nightmares standing in front of the red barn. But here she was, alive, smiling. There were no chains around her wrists or blood soaking a white nightgown.

"Who...who is this?" I couldn't breathe.

"That's mine and Stacey's sister—our dead sister. Her name is Lizzy," Colin said.

The three of their resemblances were striking, except Stacey had blonde hair and the girl in the photo—Lizzy—had brown. Colin's hair was a perfect mix between the two girls. All three of their noses had the same small point at the end, and their eyes were the same shade of radiant blue.

"So, this is the girl who told you I'd be at the art store that day?" I asked. I almost didn't want to hear the answer, fearful that I might actually believe them. Were they trying to suck me into their demented reality?

"Yes," Colin responded.

"How can the dead do that?" I was sarcastic. "It's impossible. This really isn't funny." I studied the picture closer of the girl, Lizzy. It was real. She was the girl from my dreams, so what these people were saying must have been true. All of it was real—but how?

"You of all people should know how this works." Derek threw a newspaper on the coffee table.

March 29, 2004

Local Psychic, Maya Colebrook, Assists Caldwell's Sheriff's Department and Saves Kidnapped Boy, 5, During Heroic Rescue

"Psychic?" I stumbled on the words as I read them aloud.

"Basically, in a nutshell, you can talk to the dead," Brian said—then shrugged, as if it were no big deal. "Among a lot of other cool psychic stuff."

"You know when people are lying." Stacey squirmed in her seat, excited. "Oh! And when you touch certain objects, like a picture, you see things—like the past and future!"

I set the article down and tried to process it all as I rubbed my aching head. Was I still dreaming? None of what they were telling me made any sense, but here, right in front of me, was proof of the person I was. A psychic? A hero? Me?

The fortuneteller said the girl in front of the red barn—Lizzy—needed to be saved. Lizzy was the girl haunting me in my nightmares. I felt like throwing up. Were the nightmares of the shadow man—where I was kidnapped in his truck and dragged into the field—what happened to Lizzy? Impossible. I wasn't a psychic. At least not the new me.

"You're a psychic too, then, if Lizzy talked to you?" I asked Colin.

He smiled and shook his head no. "I don't know how she was able to reach out to me, but it was in a dream. She told me you would be at the art store that day and what time you'd be there. I thought I was crazy for going, but I had to. When I saw you, I knew it wasn't just a dream. Lizzy was trying to get me to find you."

"So Ben and Tanya do know you..." I spoke slowly as I wrapped my mind around it all. "And you know them?" I finished uncertainly.

"Yes," he answered. "They know all of us."

"Why didn't you tell me at the store? If Tanya saw you, she would have—"

"No, I needed to talk to you alone. If I confronted you in front of her she would have told you I was a lunatic and you would have believed her. I had to talk to you in private, which is why I ran from the store." He sighed. "Another thing..." Colin handed a picture of me standing next to Lizzy. "You and my sister were best friends."

"Best friends?" I had no friends; I was just the schoolgirl who kept to herself. Or was that a lie too?

"When you were fourteen you came to live with Ms. Sader, our foster mom. Derek, Brian, Stacey, Lizzy, and I all lived there too," Colin said. "That's how we met. We all lived there for a year and then Ben and Tanya adopted you."

"You and Lizzy did everything together." Stacey showed me another picture of Lizzy and I with sunglasses and bathing suits on next to a lake. I was happy, smiling, laughing with the girl from my nightmares. "You were like twins." She smiled. "You got her that butterfly hairclip for her sixteenth birthday." Stacey pointed to Lizzy wearing a small red hairclip. The red butterfly—how did the fortuneteller predict this?

"So, what happened to her?" I asked. This girl was dead, haunting me. I knew her in my old life. How was this all possible?

Colin handed me a missing persons' flyer with Lizzy's picture and description. "She was murdered when you two were sixteen. Everyone thought she just ran away, but you had a nightmare that a man kidnapped and killed her. You tried to find her body, but you never could."

"Murdered?" My dreams—her next to the barn, bleeding. She was dead, which is why she never ran for help when I cried out to her.

"We think your car accident wasn't really an accident," Derek said.

"Come again?" I dropped the pictures on the coffee table.

"Ben and Tanya didn't lie to you about your car accident; you were obviously in one, but what they didn't tell you was who ran you off the road," Colin said.

"Who?" My heartbeat grew louder.

Colin leaned forward seriously. "A week before your car accident, someone left a pig's head on Ben and Tanya's doorstep and spray painted you're next on the hood of your car. Lizzy's killer was after you too."

My eyes widened in alarm. "What? Why me?"

"You weren't going to stop until you found whoever killed Lizzy. Her killer knew this and wanted you dead before you could find him." Colin said.

"How do you all know about the accident?" I asked.

"One of Ben's deputies found you on the highway. Ben called me and told us what happened. By the time we got to the hospital, they had already airlifted you to another hospital, but we never knew where you went. We didn't even know if you survived." Colin's eyes were down. I could feel the pain behind his words. He cared for me. They all cared for me.

"You said one of Ben's deputies? What do you mean?" I asked.

"Ben was sheriff of Caldwell," Stacey said.

Sheriff? Ben? It made sense—his overprotectiveness and how he constantly had me check in wherever I went in Denver. He was trying to protect me from the killer.

"So if Lizzy's killer is in Caldwell, why did you bring me back here?" My memory was gone. What if I saw the person who caused my accident that night? First wind gets out I'm back in Caldwell and the killer is still around, I'm really dead.

Stacey, Derek, and Brian turned to Colin. He sighed and rubbed his head.

"We need you to find Lizzy's body."

"Tell her the rest," Stacey ordered her brother.

"The new sheriff shut her case down a few months ago. There's been no new evidence and we still haven't found her body. He thinks she's just a missing person, but we know she's dead. You told us she was and we believe you. We've been trying to keep the search and rescue team going, but the group is dwindling. They've all given up hope of finding her. Lizzy needs you to find her body. We need you to find her." His eyes reached out to mine. He was pleading to me through his torment. "I thought by bringing you back here, you'd remember us."

"And it's time we bury our sister." Stacey grabbed my hand. "You're the only one who can find her body and her killer."

Why were they putting my life at risk when Ben and Tanya just wanted to protect me? They did everything to make sure I had the best treatment after the accident, and were there for me through it all, but why were they keeping Lizzy a secret? Why did they lie about knowing Colin? There was a reason, and I owed it to them to find out.

I was gone from Denver for a full day. Ben and Tanya would be on the edge of insanity not knowing where I was. I disappeared from campus. Ben would be searching for me, calling the Army; Tanya would be crying, praying I was alright. I missed my appointment with Doctor Rivera—she was going to tell me everything that happened in our last session, and how I broke the glass table.

A cell phone buzzed on the kitchen table. Colin stood up and hesitated, then looked at me. "It's for you."

All eyes were on me. The caller ID read Denver, CO. It was them.

I bit my pinky nail, contemplating whether to pick up or not. I pressed the button and cleared my throat. "Hello?"

"Oh thank God." Ben sighed in relief. "She's with Colin," I could hear him telling Tanya. "Are you in Montana? Do you remember anything?"

"I am. And no, my memory is still gone." I was quiet as I listened to their sobs.

Tanya came on the speaker. "You need to come home, honey. It's not safe for you there."

"I can't. Not yet."

"Put Colin on the phone," Ben demanded, like I was a little kid. I handed the phone over. Colin put the phone to his ear and listened.

"I understand, sir. I know. I'm sorry. I'll protect her."

I could hear Ben yelling.

Colin said quietly, "The decision's up to her now." He handed the phone back to me.

"Hello? Colin?" Ben shouted.

I hesitated before I spoke into the phone, choosing my next words wisely. "I want to stay." I said this while looking at Colin, who stood just inches from me. "I have to stay. You both kept this from me and now I need to finish what I started." I hung up the phone and handed it back to Colin. I paced the kitchen.

"Tell me everything."

Fastback

The house cracked from the gust of wind blowing from the storm outside waking me up. I had fallen asleep on the couch going through pictures of the past I couldn't remember. Brian's foster parents had picked him up and Stacey studied in her room.

Colin's home was antiquated, but cozy. A tall stairway led to a loft area above the fireplace. There were no family photos or memories of their past on the walls. What tragedies unfolded on my four "kidnappers" while they were in foster care? What of my own tragedies?

"Hello, you've reached Doctor Camila Rivera's phone. Please leave a—" I ended the call. Maybe she was already in bed, I thought. I hoped Ben or Tanya talked to her and let her know I was alright and why I missed my appointment. I'd need to talk to her—make her tell me what happened, how I broke the table.

A loud bang came from the garage. I opened the door a crack to see what was going on.

"She doesn't remember anything about who she was or the good things she did. What happens when she does finally remember? What if Lizzy's killer comes after her again when he finds out she's back?" Derek asked Colin.

"Her being here will bring it all back. We just have to be patient and make sure nobody hurts her again." Colin disappeared, out of my line of sight. I watched as sparks burst from deeper in the garage. He was welding something, I realized.

I opened the door wider and looked down to see a classic Ford Mustang, fastback, black as night. I was stuck on its beautiful machinery and sleek body frame.

"Nice ride huh?" Derek got closer to me and smiled. His upper front teeth were crooked.

"Is this yours?" I asked Derek, then Colin. They both smiled.

"You really don't remember?" Derek laughed. "This baby is yours, Maya. You babysat the neighbor kids during the week after school and every weekend to save up for her."

"Mine?"

Derek opened the driver door and had me look inside.

"Is this the car I was in?"

"Well, bits and pieces of what was left of it. Colin will have to show you pictures of all the work he had to do to get it lookin' like this." Derek leaned against the car. I looked to Colin, who was still messing with some tools.

"You fixed it up?" I asked Colin. He nodded his head yes. "Thank you."

"Colin's the best mechanic around! I did help him—especially with welding, but he did most of the work. We were lucky the frame wasn't totaled in the accident." Derek brushed his hand on the bumper. "A real beauty, isn't she?" I agreed with him.

"Ben and Tanya never showed me pictures of the accident. I assumed they didn't want to scare me, or they didn't want me to remember. Either way, I'd like to see the pictures...if you don't mind?" I asked Colin.

"Of course." He grinned. "I have some pictures around here somewhere. I'll have to look for them later."

I smiled my appreciation.

"Fire it up!" Derek motioned for me to sit in the driver seat.

"Oh no, it's okay." I shied away.

Derek grabbed the keys from under the driver side floor mat. The Mustang purred and echoed through the four-car garage. I breathed in the old engine exhaust smell and exhaled in delight.

"Want to take it for a spin?" Derek revved the engine even more.

"I don't drive. And it's stick, so I probably couldn't." I was nervous and embarrassed. Derek turned the engine off.

"Well, the Maya we knew did drive stick and was pretty badass." He folded his arms. Badass? Me? I was timid just getting in a vehicle, let alone drive it; how was I badass? Maybe the old me, but things were different now.

"I doubt that." I apologized for interrupting and walked back to the kitchen.

"You can sleep in my bed." Colin stopped me. "I mean, it's a lot more comfortable than the couch." He was nervous and so was I. Stacey left me a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt to change into since we were the same size.

I followed him up the stairs as he showed me his loft bedroom. There was no door, just open to the rest of the house, a railing the only privacy from eyes down below.

"Not much"—he leaned against the bannister—"but it's home."

"It's great, thank you." I hoped he couldn't see my red face in the dim light.

"I'll be on the couch, if you need anything." He smiled. "It's just right there." He pointed down below. Why was he more nervous than I was?

"Colin?"

He turned around and took his hand off the banister.

I felt like I could say anything to him. "When—or if—I get my memory back, will it hurt? Will it be too much? Maybe it's a good thing I don't remember. Maybe there's a reason I haven't yet."

"The truth always hurts, in one way or another. But the girl I knew didn't give up even though things were hard." He looked into my eyes for a while. "I'm glad you're here."

How was I going to sleep tonight?

I dreamt again, the bloody hands pulling my body deeper and deeper below the surface of the field. I could hear whispering and screams coming from lost souls. I woke up in panic mode. 11:11 PM. The nightmares weren't stopping even though I was back where it all started. I hoped my Sunshine would be in my dreams, but he wasn't. I was too distracted with everything to imagine him.

I leaned my arm on the banister of the loft and looked down at the silent home. Colin slept on the couch, his right arm above his head. He was beautiful. I pictured him sleeping like this next to me, his bulky muscles stretched out over my body, holding and protecting me from the dangers of the storm outside.

I tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen, careful to step over the creaks in the floor as best I could to not wake him. The house was dark and I followed the light coming from the stove. As I turned to the faucet I was pushed back into the fridge, the glass slipping from my hand.

Colin's arm pressed against my chest as he held me there, the light from the moon shining in from the window above, our eyes trying to adjust to the darkness to see who the other person was. Time froze as he looked into my eyes. Something about him slowed my breathing. His eyes cut through me and a cold shiver came over my body. His touch, his smell, his stance, everything about him was so familiar.

He pulled his arm down, slowly, his hand brushing against mine. "I heard a noise coming from the kitchen and thought someone broke in. I didn't hurt you, did I?" I watched his lips move softly.

"No," I whispered, my heart skipping as he looked me over.

He flipped the kitchen light on. The only clothing covering his muscles was a black tank top and boxers. Sleeve tattoos reached from his shoulders to both wrists. I wanted to look at them closer, but I was staring now.

"Don't move." He looked down. I hadn't realized the glass in my hand shattered across the floor during our tussle in the dark, my cold bare feet centimeters away from being cut. He swiftly picked me up, his muscles barely flinching, and sat me down on a chair. I must have been light compared to the weights he lifted in the garage. "Keep your feet up."

I watched him sweep the glass into the trash.

"You sure you're alright?" He kneeled down and dusted the bottom of my feet to make sure I didn't step on any glass. "I'm sorry if I scared you, again." I couldn't let his eyes go from mine. He waited for me to answer, but I was lost for words, just as he was at the art store.

"I'm alright."

After getting two glasses of water for the both of us he sat down across from me at the table.

"Nightmares?" he asked.

I nodded. "Couldn't sleep."

"You still have them even though..." He stopped and looked down, shaking his head. "I'm sorry; sure that's not what you want to talk about right now."

"Don't be sorry," I assured him. "Did I always have nightmares?"

"Always, from the first night you came to live with us at Ms. Sader's. I remember Lizzy telling me she never slept a full night after you moved in." He smirked. "We'd have to wake you sometimes. You'd be screaming like someone was trying to hurt you."

"I guess losing my memory didn't change anything. Tanya had to wake me too back in Denver."

We sat in silence again. I wanted to know more about him—besides that he was two years older than me—what were his likes? Dislikes? Fears? Wishes? I wanted to know everything.

He handed me a notebook from a box sitting on the table. "I was going to show you this in the morning, but if you can't sleep, maybe this will keep you occupied."

"The butterfly!" A magazine cutout of a black and red butterfly was pasted to the front of the red notebook. I dreamed of a similar butterfly the times the shadow man took my life. A connection to my past? I frantically flipped through the pages. This was my handwriting, these were my words.

"You started writing in this after Lizzy died. Maybe it'll help you get your memory back somehow."

"Thank you." I couldn't keep my eyes off the pages. I needed to start reading immediately in hopes everything would return to me.

September 6, 2004

We held a Labor Day barbeque and fundraiser at the park downtown for Lizzy. We passed around her "missing" flyer and auctioned off Ben's film camera. I didn't want him to sell it, but he knew it would bring in a lot of money.

Colin and Derek set up the tables and chairs while Brian, Stacey, and I collected the money. We raised over $5,000 toward Lizzy's reward money. I'm hoping this will help make someone come forward. Someone knows what happened to her, but it's been two months since she was murdered. Will we ever find her body?

Your Favorite

The clanking of dishes and a skillet on the gas stove startled me. I fell asleep reading my journal, its pages still a blur. My memory needed to return soon or I was going to drive myself crazy.

All eyes were on me, except for Colin's, who kept his head down while I sat at the kitchen table. Stacey smiled and kissed me on the cheek. I was surprised at first.

"I'm so happy you're here. Just like old times!" she squealed.

"If we didn't scare her away last night, I'm sure you just did," Derek joked. Stacey smacked him over the head with her spatula and Brian laughed.

Colin looked up from his plate and watched me behind his coffee mug.

"Hurry up, egg lady, or we're all going to be late!" Derek squawked to Stacey.

"I know; I'm trying." She stirred the eggs faster and turned up the heat.

"Remember your homework this time. I don't want to get another call from your history teacher." Colin stood up, taking his plate to the sink, looking at his sister. He had full custody of her since he turned eighteen, right after Lizzy died. Now he and Derek were nineteen, still too young to be taking care of a fourteen-year-old hormonal teenager. Brian wasn't allowed to spend the night since he started dating Stacey. He was only there to ride with her on the bus in the morning and only somedays he could stay with her after school.

"Roger that!" She saluted to him with her spatula.

"Yeah, and get good grades too. We all know you're a horrible cook so you won't make it in the fast food industry." Derek crunched his burnt toast in her ear.

"Hey now, my baby is getting good grades and she's going to be a teacher after I put her through college, right?" Brian kissed Stacey.

"Not in my house, please." Colin turned and shook his head. I liked how protective he was of his little sister. "I'm sure your foster parents would feel the same way. Especially if they find out you're smoking."

"Oh man. Come on, Colin, quit pretending to be my dad. You did the same crap I'm doing at fourteen." Brian stood his ground.

"Yeah, but the difference is she's my little sister," Colin pointed to Stacey. Brian backed off and realized there was no winning Colin's battle.

I was quiet and studied them all in their environment. I wondered where the "new" me fit in with these familiar strangers I knew for so many years, yet couldn't remember.

"Derek and I are headed to work and Brian and Stacey are headed to school," Colin said. "I left our numbers on the fridge, so call us if there's a problem or you need something, alright? Be sure to lock up too."

I nodded. Colin put a cigarette in his mouth and opened the door. Before he could light it I looked up to see Ben and Tanya standing in the doorway. Colin turned around to look at me, just as the rest of them did.

"Don't you ever pull that on us again! You should have called to tell us you had her." Ben's face turned red as he yelled at Colin, who pulled the cigarette from his mouth.

"You're right, I'm sorry. But she's safe, as you can see." Colin stepped aside and let them through. The four of my "kidnappers" slid toward the door with their things. Stacey and Tanya hugged, but no one greeted Ben—he was out for blood. Colin shut the door behind them, taking one last look at me. I'll be here when you get home, I wanted to tell him.

Tanya threw her arms around me and Ben sat down at the edge of the couch, folding his arms. This was going to be a long morning.

"We need you to come with us. We're not joking around, Maya." Ben kept his voice level. "Our plane leaves in four hours."

"I can't. Like I told you on the phone, I have to stay." I stood my ground.

"Do you realize how serious this is? Someone tried to kill you! They ran you off the road and left you for dead! What if you saw the person, but can't remember them and it's someone you know? What if it's Colin? Or Derek?" Ben was trying so hard to scare me.

"Really, Ben?" I argued back.

"You have no idea what you're up against. You were consumed with finding Lizzy's murderer." Ben exaggerated, I was sure. "You hardly ate for the first two weeks after she went missing!"

"You mean murdered. Not missing," I interrupted him.

"It started already!" Ben threw his hands in the air. "You're not seeing the bigger picture—how this will ruin you. What about school? Are you going to just quit and never get your GED? Did you know you got expelled from your junior year for missing too many days? You risked your life and look where it's gotten you!"

"Ben, we didn't come here to yell at her. She still doesn't have her memory back—and when it does, she'll realize how consumed she really was." Tanya placed a hand on my shoulder. "Maya, please, come back to Denver with us. Just until your memory returns—then we'll talk about what to do after."

"No." I folded my arms.

"Damnit, Maya!" Ben was raging now. I had never seen him this mad. Tanya tried to calm him, but his frenzy continued. "You're only seventeen—"

"Eighteen—in a month," I reminded him. "You can't force me to go with you. I'm staying right here." I sounded like a spoiled brat, but I had to find my best friend's killer. I had to stay.

Colin pushed the front door open and closed it quickly behind him, the blizzard outside growing stronger in the evening sky. Stacey and I were looking over more photos of Lizzy next to the warm fire. His eyes stayed on mine—I hoped he was relieved to still see me here instead of on a plane to Denver. He set a plastic bag on the floor.

"I thought you'd be gone." He took his snow boots off and put them next to the door. His hands and fingernails were black from car grease and his work shirt was full of oil stains.

"She's here, isn't she?" Stacey said sarcastically.

"What happened?" He sat on the cobblestone hearth.

"They begged me to go back, but I couldn't. I told them I had to stay, just like I did over the phone."

"I'm sure they didn't like that." His eyebrows rose.

"No. Ben stormed out, wouldn't look at me," I said.

"They want you to finish school." He acknowledged their concern. "Ben called me."

"He did?" I cringed.

"They flew back to Denver to pack all their things up. They'll be here in a few days."

"Why are they coming back?" I was angry.

"Well, if you're not going back to Denver, there's no reason for them to stay there. I told them I'd make sure you were safe until they returned."

"You can stay here!" Stacey yelled out. "Right, Colin?"

"Of course." He looked to me. "As long as you want to stay."

"Thank you." I smiled at them.

"What's in the bag?" Stacey looked to the front door.

Colin stood up. "Groceries. I'll get dinner going."

"I'll make dinner," I offered. "I mean, if you didn't want to. You worked all day and I like to cook."

"I was hoping you would actually." He smiled. "You always made the best meals. Which is why I bought Alfredo sauce—your favorite."

Colin

Stacey cleaned up from dinner, everyone's bellies full and satisfied. Alfredo was my favorite—even in my new life. I was happy part of the old me still lingered. I looked out the window, but the black sky was too dark to reveal how much snow had fallen from the storm.

"So, do you guys rent this house then?" I asked Stacey. Brian was "studying" and playing videogames and Derek and Colin were in the garage.

"Yeah. Colin wants to buy it from the owner since he loves the big garage and how quiet it is out here." Stacey put the last plate away. "He's been saving for the down payment."

"I don't blame him. It's so peaceful here. He has a great view of the mountains too. I was admiring them today while you were all gone."

"That's Beartooth Range you're seeing out there." She smiled. "We've had a lot of adventures in those woods. Bear Creek Lake is out there too. That's where we spent all summer long. Getting ice cream at the store and fishing. When the weather warms up again maybe we can go out there?"

"I'd like that."

"Alright, I've got to start on homework or Colin will kill me. Big essay due tomorrow. Blah!" She excused herself and went to her room. Brian's foster dad picked him up shortly after.

The Mustang was calling my name and I wanted so badly to see it again. When I opened the door I noticed Derek and Colin boxing. Derek was holding up guards as Colin practiced his swings against him.

"Good, just give me more on your left hook." Derek hit him over the head a few times with his gloves, taunting him. Colin went in full swing and started pounding the gloves. The perspiration from his body made his chest shimmer.

He was good; each punch was thrown with concentration and aggression. The tattoos on his back reached from shoulder to shoulder. A cross and Lizzy's name across it was all I could make out from the distance.

Colin took a break and realized I was standing there. He popped out his teeth guard and wiped the sweat from his face with a towel. His perfectly V-shaped frame made it hard for me not to stare. Then again, I never really did stop looking.

"Hey, Maya." Derek grabbed some water and both of the boys were breathing heavily. Colin didn't say anything as he went in the house. I looked back at Derek, who smirked. "He didn't want you seeing him box."

"Why?" I sat down at the workbench.

"He blames himself for Lizzy's murder. He and I ran away the day after we graduated—we weren't here when she died. He thinks if he was, she'd still be alive."

"Why'd you guys run away?"

"We had a clever idea we'd be professional boxers someday. Well, at least Colin was on his way—I was more of his coach. It was a while after Ms. Sader went off the deep end—" He stopped when I looked confused.

"Ms. Sader was a very bad foster mom, especially to you. After she had a meltdown, Claire and Don took in Stacey and Lizzy, but Colin and I were too old to be taken in. They put us in a home for boys our age, but as soon as we turned eighteen we had to leave. The state gave us some cash and said fly with no wings!" He shook his head. "The government thinks they did good by us, but they had no idea. So, we ran off to California. A few months later, Lizzy was murdered and here we are."

"Did he ever try to go back to competing? I doubt Lizzy was the type of person to let him give up on his dreams."

"You're so right. You and her supported Colin in everything he wanted to do, which is why her death makes it so much harder on him. He started smoking way more after your accident—he felt like he lost the two of you and it was his fault." Derek smiled and smacked his pack of cigarettes. He opened the garage door a crack and lit his cigarette. "Me, on the other hand, never quit," he joked as he inhaled his vice.

"Why does he practice then? Why not throw it all away?"

"He can't keep it out of his head. It was his dream to go pro from the time he was a kid. I guess just a little practice here and there is better than nothing. Now, if you could get him to completely quit smoking again, he wouldn't just be good, he'd be great."

Scouts in the amateur league still wanted Colin to come back and compete. He promised himself that until Lizzy was found, he'd never step foot in a ring again.

"Derek, can I ask you how you got the scar?" I pointed to his cheek and he rubbed his hand over it, his scruff making a scratching noise against his fingernails.

"That's the handiwork of my dad during one of his drunken rampages." His parents were both druggies and lost custody of him when he was only thirteen, he told me. He moved around a lot between foster homes, and came to Ms. Sader's shortly before I did.

"I'm so sorry. I know what it's like. I have a lot from the car accident," I explained.

"You're just lucky they're not on your pretty face. But you'd still be pretty if you did."

I blushed and tucked the fallen piece of hair behind my ear. "Do you guys know why I was in foster care?" I asked.

"Your parents died in a fire when you were twelve. You said you couldn't remember what happened to them besides that, so we always assumed something bad happened and you didn't want to remember anything."

"And I didn't have other family?"

"Not that we knew of. You were in a few other foster homes before you came to Ms. Sader's. You should read your journal some more. It'll help you remember." He patted my knee and finished his cigarette.

I did as he said and spent the whole next day while everyone was at work and school, reading of my life before the accident, the words I couldn't remember writing.

October 15, 2004

Stacey still can't sleep through the night. She wakes up screaming for Lizzy—so loud one of the neighbors next to Colin's complained to management. Colin doesn't know if getting custody of her was the right thing. He's scared. He doesn't realize what a good big brother he's being.

He called me again tonight to come over to his apartment and help. Does he realize I want to soothe him too? I want to run my fingers through his hair, whisper in his ear it'll all be alright, like I do with Stacey the nights she can't sleep.

I'd like to think Colin feels the same about me, the way he held my hand the other day in the woods while we searched for Lizzy's body. He wouldn't let go—instead he squeezed tighter when he felt mine shying away. The way his eyes meet mine—does he have the same fireworks in his chest when he sees me?

Or, am I just Maya—a friend. Nothing more?

Then I begin to feel guilty. How could I be in love at a time like this—I was selfish. I needed to find Lizzy's killer—no matter the cost, no matter what it took.

More

I quickly closed my red butterfly journal. Did Colin read this? Did he know I longed for him then? Fireworks. When he looked at me at the art store, that's exactly what it felt like. Not just a short firework show, but a long one; the one with the grand finale and encore.

"Maya?"

Colin made me jump. I set my journal on the table and wiped my forehead.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't." I played it off.

"Anything coming back?" He pointed to my journal and sat down next to me in the chair. Not across from me like he did the other night when he rescued me from the shattered glass. He was inches away from me, his Axe men's body wash making me itch in my desire. I wondered if he always smelled like this—before I lost my memory. When I wanted to rub my fingers through his hair—what did he smell like then?

I shook my head no.

"That's okay, give it time." He smiled.

"I don't want to give it any more time. I just want it all to return."

"It will," he assured me.

Fireworks smoldered in my stomach again.

"Colin? Have you...did you..." I hesitated. Spit it out, Maya. "Have you read my journal?"

He didn't answer, and then nodded his head yes. I began to sweat. He did read it. He read everything I said about him.

"I thought maybe, after your accident, I'd read something you missed—like a clue or something."

"Did you find anything?" Besides what I wrote about you?

"No, and yes." His lips opened and he started to breathe heavier.

"Did you read...everything?" I was putting him in an awkward position. I didn't know what happened between us. I hadn't gotten that far in my journal, if there was even anything else written about us. If there even was an "us."

"I did."

"And?"

He paused. "It's late. I have to get up early. It's Saturday, my day to work on the Mustang." His hands were shaking. He stood and went into the bathroom. I grabbed my butterfly journal and went up to his bed. There was no "us." I was crazy.

November 5, 2004

It's been four months to the day since Lizzy was murdered. Yet, nothing. No body. No new evidence. No one's come forward to claim the reward money. I'm starting to get depressed I'll never solve her case. Ben and Dyami are trying their hardest to help, but I'm at a loss. I have nothing.

Her spirit follows me every day, yet she won't tell or help me solve who murdered her. Why couldn't she—being my best friend—tell me what happened? I felt her with me just now, yet when I talk to her, she won't respond.

Colin wants me to come over tonight and help Stacey with her homework. I'm hoping I can talk to him. Maybe after Stacey goes to sleep. Then I can tell him everything.

I rushed down the stairs holding my journal and shook Colin awake. He was huddled under a blanket, the fire almost burned out.

"Colin." I shook him again, trying to whisper so I wouldn't wake Stacey and Derek.

He slowly opened his eyes and sat up. "What's wrong?"

"What did I tell you that night?"

"What?" He was still asleep.

"November 5th, last year, I came over to your place and you wanted me to help you get Stacey to sleep or something. I wrote in my journal I needed to tell you everything. What was that everything? A day later I was in a coma in the hospital after the car accident. What did I tell you?" I couldn't slow down. I needed to know what I told him.

He didn't answer, but moved his feet over the edge of the couch. I got out of his way and waited.

"Maya, can we talk in the morning about this?"

"No, I need you to tell me."

He nodded and grabbed my journal to turn to the page I was referencing. He looked up at me and handed the journal back after he was done.

"You told me you loved me."

My body tensed. I didn't expect that.

"I did?" I began to breathe quicker, praying I wouldn't have another seizure from embarrassment.

"I told you I loved you too."

"You did?"

His head nodded up and down. I was going to puke.

"Oh." My heart raced even louder. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. I jus—"

His soft lips were warm against mine. He held my head in his hands, my stomach full of sparklers. He made the space between us disappear, pulling my body to his. I could feel every bit of him.

His Axe body wash smell returned to my nose, making my blood gush like waves through my body. Everything, from his lips, to his hands, to the way he kissed, all so familiar. My desire for him wasn't just from the new me. I must have felt all those things the night I went over to his place. Was that all we did—just kiss?

He moved his mouth now; I let him glide them wherever he wanted as he made his way to my neck then back to my lips. I pulled him in even closer, grabbing hold of his arms as they flexed.

He stopped. Why was he stopping? His eyes were full of the same passion I had, our hearts beating together, but he turned away, holding his head.

"I'm sorry—I shouldn't have done that." He breathed deep to calm the hormones he let loose.

"Why—why are you sorry?" I pleaded for him to continue. My brain was in jumbles. Why did he stop?

"You should go back to bed."

"No—not until you tell me what happened between us. You read my journal; you know how I felt about you."

"That's the problem. Just—just go, okay? We can talk tomorrow."

I wanted to do more than just talk—I could feel he did too. What was he so scared of? What happened that night?

I watched him toss and turn from the loft. Come up here, hold me, kiss my lips one more time, I wanted to whisper down to him. Just one more time?

I Love You

Sixteen Years Old

November 5, 2004

I turned down the stereo playing country music and answered Colin's call. It was already 6:00 PM. Colin was coming to pick me up so I could help Stacey with her homework. Eighth grade algebra was not my cup of tea, but I knew Colin needed the help since taking on the parental role.

"I'll be there in five minutes." I could hear the rumble of his pickup in the background.

"I'll be ready. See you soon."

I changed my shirt one more time. I fixed my hair, not knowing which way to part it. Which way did he like it best? I needed Lizzy here to fix my makeup and tell me I looked beautiful. Excitement filled my body as I heard his pickup pull in the drive.

Tonight I'd finally tell Colin I loved him.

After dinner and helping Stacey with her homework, her and I both done with x, y, and z, I helped her to bed. Tonight she fell asleep quickly, tired from a hard day at school. I crept out the door and shut it quietly.

Colin and Derek were cleaning up dinner. I had hoped Derek was working tonight so I'd have my alone time with Colin, but it was the three of us, to my dismay.

"She's asleep." I sighed.

"Wow that was fast." Derek was surprised too.

"Until she wakes up in a couple hours." Colin reminded us of Stacey's nightly terrors, much like I always had.

"Maybe she'll sleep all night." I tried to sound optimistic.

"She's almost thirteen—she's too old to keep this up." Colin was agitated. "Is she doing it for attention?"

"She misses Lizzy," I reasoned. "You can't blame her—you know how close they were."

"It's time she grows up," Colin snapped.

"Here's a thought—why don't you two get out of here? Go to the movies or get some ice cream. I'll stay here with Stacey." Derek silenced Colin. He knew his best friend was in a funk, and I was the only one who could talk sense into him. I texted Ben and Tanya saying I was spending the night with Stacey—I lied. I didn't have school in the morning since I was expelled for missing too many days. Ben was already too angry with me to say no. The less I was underfoot the better, I thought.

Colin drove around town, stopping in front of the movie theater. He looked over my shoulder and through my window.

"Anything you want to see?" he asked.

There was nothing besides a scary movie from Halloween and a romantic comedy. I wasn't in the mood for either one, especially the blood and guts; I had seen enough blood in one lifetime. I shook my head no and he agreed.

"I have an idea." He drove away from town and through the woods, up to Bear Creek Lake. It was the off-season and the lake was starting to freeze over from the cold nights. He parked and handed me a blanket from behind his seat.

"Come on." He reached for my hand and helped me out of his truck. "Let's count how many shooting stars we can find."

We walked to a frozen log on the ground and sat side-by-side and wrapped the blanket around our bodies. He put his arm around me when I shivered from the cold. I pretended to be colder than I was just so he'd get closer.

"There's one!" I pointed to the sky.

His chest moved up and down as he chuckled. I rested my head on his shoulder. He smelled like cigarette smoke again, but I didn't care if he was back to smoking. I breathed him in, savoring every bit of his smells. He reached for my right hand and squeezed it tight.

"Oh! That was a big one!" He saw another star shooting across the sky.

All was quiet.

"Do you ever wonder what's up there?" he asked.

"You mean up in the sky?"

"Yeah. You know—like Heaven."

"I think so. I like to think that Lizzy's looking down on us." I smiled.

"Me too."

I lifted my head from his shoulder. Colin's face was now in front of me, his lips pressed against mine as hard as he could. Two blue eyes stared back, helpless, scared. It took me a while to figure out what happened. The boy I was madly in love with kissed me. He kissed me. He kissed me strong; he kissed me like he wanted to, like he needed to. My knees became weak and I let my arms fall into his. We kissed for some time, letting one another fondle each other's body, hair, face. Our hands were a rhythm, like music, flowing smoothly and swaying to our kisses.

His hands slowly intertwined themselves in my long-sleeve shirt, pulling and tugging at it, like he wanted more of me. I stopped him and looked down at his lips, pressing my fingertips gently across them. They were soft from the wetness. I was going to give myself to him; all of myself. My journal entries told a story that I had been in love with Colin for a long time. This felt right.

I had always pictured what my first time would be like, where I'd be when it happened; who I was with—would it hurt? What happened with Colin wasn't anything like I had imagined. For once, I felt connected to someone in a way I never thought I'd feel. Colin was so gentle, asking if I was alright, making sure I was comfortable. This wasn't his first time. He had been with a couple girls from school before. I was always so jealous of them, but now, after two years of wanting him, Colin was finally mine.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too." Those three words—I was able to release so easily. I felt the weight I carried drift away, and best of all, Colin said it first.

Colin shook me awake. He was already dressed, getting the truck started, trying to defog the windows. I moved the blanket to the side and got dressed. The sun was just starting to rise above the mountains.

"Come on, we've got to get you home." His words were cold and I could feel something wasn't right. He was silent the whole way. Why wasn't he talking to me? Was I that bad of a lover? Did I have morning breath?

Ben's house was still dark. He would be getting up soon for his shift. Colin parked behind the large Ponderosa Pine that blocked anyone inside the house from seeing the truck.

"I love you, Colin."

He turned his head away. "Maya, about last night, I shouldn't have let that happen."

A knife stabbed my heart. "What?"

"I can't believe how stupid I was—you're only sixteen! I feel sick for what I did to you." He shook his head.

"I'll be seventeen soon, Colin. Is that really what you're worried about?"

"If Ben finds out he'll have me arrested."

"He wouldn't do that first of all, and second of all, he won't find out. Trust me."

"We can't do that again. I can't be with you. It's not right." He shook his head. "I'm eighteen—I'm too old for you. I shouldn't have let that happen." He repeated.

"How could you say that after what we shared? After you told me you loved me? Don't tell me now you didn't mean it. Don't do that to me, Colin," I demanded him to tell me he loved me again.

"You should go, before they wake up." He scooted me out of the truck like a used wrapper. He didn't want me, all he wanted was a piece of me and when he was done, he was done.

I slowly got out, not saying a word, and closed his door quietly. I was completely paralyzed. He was my everything and I had given everything to him.

I was disgusted with myself. How stupid I had been giving away something so special, so easily.

I watched the road to Ben and Tanya's from the patio door all morning. Waiting. Maybe he'd think twice about what he said. He'd be coming to apologize, any minute now. I waited.

The road was quiet.

Remember

BANG. BANG. BANG.

A .45 went off from behind the house. How did I know that? In the last year I had never fired a gun. I sat up in Colin's bed, the morning light shining in through the window from the kitchen.

I felt my lips. Colin kissed me last night, but it wasn't the first time we had kissed. We kissed a year ago, by the lake. The night I told him I loved him; the night I gave him everything. I remembered!

Flashes of my past hit me like boulders, not bricks like Doctor Rivera said would happen, my head pounding as my memories returned.

How was this happening? Was it Colin? His kiss awakening me like Snow White?

More memories returned, too fast for me to comprehend all at once. The cases, the dead bodies, the faces. The blood. All that blood. Then my car accident; the chill of the night, the red sky. The dirt road, the flashing lights, the crash, the shadow man's gun pointing to my head. Lizzy's face, smile, laugh. All of it returned fast, like a freight train.

How was this possible? To go from not remembering anything about myself, to remembering it all?

But I didn't remember it all. My real parents; the darkness still took over this part of my life. I wasn't remembering everything. Why? Why just the last five years of my life—not the whole thing?

Remember, Maya!

I didn't care; the old Maya was back, ready to take down Lizzy's killer. My body felt like my own again as I touched it all over. This was me—Maya Colebrook, the psychic girl from Caldwell, Montana. I touched my face and ran to the mirror hanging above Colin's dresser. My eyes—I could see myself now. The real me.

I had to prove I wasn't still dreaming. I ran downstairs past Stacey who watched me frantically put my shoes and coat on. I grabbed the rifle hanging above the entryway door. I knew how to cock the gun, which bullets to use, how to hold it. It was like yesterday I was out with Ben shooting at the range.

"Maya!" Stacey yelled after me, her shoes sloshing in the snow.

The boys were standing in front of the hay-stacked targets. From next to them I shot off all the rounds from the rifle, hitting each target as I did a thousand times before. I wasn't dreaming. I remembered.

The three boys looked at me, dazed. I handed the rifle to Colin, my heart heavy as I looked into his eyes. He knew I remembered the night he broke my heart, the night I told him and gave him everything. I had to get out of there and breathe life back into myself again.

"She's back!" I could hear Brian chanting.

I was back.

"Maya! What's going on?" Stacey tried to grab for me as I loaded my toiletries into a bag.

"Leave me alone." I pushed past her and headed for the garage.

My '67 Mustang was sure in an accident—an overturned nightmare on the highway just one year ago. Colin spent the time and money doing a major remodel to get it back the way it was. I was grateful, but I had other things to focus on now.

The shadow man from my nightmares—I needed to find him.

I found the keys under the driver side floor mat and took off before Stacey could get another word out. She bawled after me to come back and stay. I didn't want to hurt her—not when I was the one to comfort her through the nights she couldn't sleep after Lizzy died, but I had to get out of there. I rammed my 5-speed engine up the steep and snowy drive, thrusting the shifter into each gear.

Maya, you almost died. Think about yourself. My conscience took over. The shadow man almost killed you. Go back to Denver. Finish your school. Forget what the fortuneteller told you and what happened at Doctor Rivera's. You're the new Maya now—the old Maya is gone.

I sat idling at the entrance of the highway. Caldwell, straight ahead; Denver, to the left—just a ten-hour drive and I could forget I was ever here.

Lizzy.

If I left, her whole existence would be gone. I needed to keep her spirit alive long enough to find her killer—the shadow man who wanted me dead too. I needed to so she could finally be at rest. The year I was gone was already too long.

The smoke from the exhaust pipe grew thick as I watched it in the rearview mirror, the engine vibrating my body. Lizzy was there with me in the passenger seat, her spirit begging me to stay.

"I'm not going anywhere," I assured her and drove straight into Caldwell. I needed to remember the night of my accident. The dirt road. That's where I'd start.

The Accident

Sixteen Years Old

November 6, 2004

A vision from Lizzy took me to the entrance of a dirt road just off Culler Highway, thirty miles outside of Caldwell. The sun went down over Beartooth Range. Large trees covered most of the entrance—not even the daily drivers would notice it during the day, let alone at nighttime.

Lizzy was here, just four months ago, the night she died. A man was with her, the shadow man from my nightmares. She didn't know him, but got in his truck. Why?

Why did you lead me here, Lizzy? Did you go down the dirt road or did you keep going straight? Who were you with?

I checked my phone. Still nothing back from Colin, who was ignoring my calls all day. I wasn't going to let him get away with using me like he did. He'd have to tell me to my face why he threw me out of his truck this morning. I needed to get back before it got too late so I could talk to him.

Before I made a U-turn I looked beyond where I sat idling and tried to see if there was a house or another road that led off this one, but the darkness was all I could see.

Headlights appeared from the two-lane highway behind me, the first one I had seen since I got out of city limits. Not even the gas station and hotel nearby had cars, probably since the hotel was closed for renovation. I pulled the Mustang over to give the driver plenty of room to pass. I checked my phone again. I wanted to turn down the dirt road, but I was scared to go alone. I had never been through this part of the mountains before. The gut-wrenching feeling something bad was coming knotted my insides. I'd come back in the morning.

The headlights were now parked right behind me. They were high, a lifted truck, and my eyes had to adjust to the lights blasting in all my mirrors. What was the driver doing? I rolled down my window and looked behind me. The driver flashed the headlights, blinding me even more.

Slowly the truck's engine revved, louder, louder, until the front bumper met the back of my car. The Mustang lunged forward, my neck jerking with the motion. What was going on?

I sped off, my tires trying to keep up as I pushed it into first gear, second, third. I had to get away. The truck caught up quick, the engine roaring like a lion close behind the lamb. The driver rammed into me again, and again. I held onto the steering wheel tight, trying to stay in control and keep it off the embankment. The road started to curve, our wheels screeching through the twists and turns, echoing through the canyon.

I shifted into fifth trying to outrun the truck, but I wasn't fast enough—not even at sixty. The truck kept up with me as we tore down the road, farther and farther from Caldwell, from help. I panicked and reached inside my backpack for Ben's gun.

I was upside down now, the truck's headlights in line with my eyes. A piece of glass stuck out of my chest from the broken windshield. I screamed in pain—both my arms limp, I couldn't move.

The diesel truck sat idling. Two glossy boots appeared, jumping down onto the pavement below. It was the shadow man from my nightmares. I couldn't see his face, just the glow from the demon inside him. He loaded several bullets into his gun, not hesitating, keeping his pace as his boots crunched on the asphalt, closer and closer to me. He wore gloves to conceal his identity; he was smart.

My left collarbone stuck out from my skin; blood everywhere. I fumbled with the seatbelt and I came crashing down, cutting my hands on the glass. I screamed even louder—my collarbone tearing my skin even more.

I need my gun. He's coming! Don't think about the pain!

The man's baseball cap covered his eyes and his face was black from the night. The shadow man was a demon in the devil's army. The red orb surrounding his tall sturdy body got closer. He held his gun out.

It was over. My life. Over. The gun was at my head. He cocked it and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Was I dead? No—I was alive!

His gun jammed, giving me the time I needed to grab my gun. I shot off a few rounds, but he was already gone. The lights from his truck faded in the distance. I was bleeding from everywhere. I prayed someone heard the gunshots and would come find me. I waited in the silence—alone.

New Sheriff in Town

The new hotel next to the truck stop was under construction. An off-ramp was built to accommodate the trucks from the coal mine and to alleviate traffic downtown. Another off-ramp connected to this led public access straight into Caldwell—the new "cut through" that only created more bums and more traffic.

Whoever let the highway project pass could care less about Caldwell. They looked at the highway as profit—one more way to bring in "more business" to the town's stores. It was no longer a charming city. Now it was full of the big city grime. Not like Denver, but it was on its way if coal prices kept skyrocketing.

Ben voted against it right before my car accident. Too many residents were outraged it was even an option for the town. How did it get passed?

The sheriff's department was in the south end of Caldwell.

Lavender air freshener filled the station—just as I remembered. I spent many late nights here after Lizzy's murder. Ben was sheriff then; now, new faces surrounded me as I walked up to the lady in front—all eyes turned my way.

"Can I help you?" The woman was bored with me already. I didn't recognize her. Everyone was different—where were all of Ben's staff and deputies?

"I need to speak to the sheriff," I demanded.

"Right, and why? If you want to file a report, you do that like everyone else," she ordered, handing me a form to fill out. "Then you can talk to one of the detectives. Got it?" Her red lipstick and purple eyeliner made her look like a circus clown.

"Look, this has to do with my friend's murder case the sheriff shut down two months ago. It's important." I stood my ground.

"Name?" Before she could finish writing it on her notepad she looked up at me. "Oh, you're that psychic girl. Hold on."

The woman smacked her bubblegum and got up, slowly, making her way to the sheriff's closed door. She knocked several times and went in.

A man in an expensive black suit and polished shoes leaned on the counter talking to a young deputy woman smiling and joking. The man wore a gold wedding band and I was sure the woman he was swooning over wasn't his wife. He turned to look at me while I quickly moved my eyes from the flirt-fest that was going on.

"Ms. Colebrook." The man approached me. I didn't recognize him. "I am Mayor John Ward."

"Mayor." I was confused how he knew me. I went to shake his hand, but he stopped me.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to get anyone sick. My boys are both home from school with the flu and I'm starting to get a little sore throat myself," he said. His eyes were very narrow and his eyebrows took up most of his face while he squinted. The smile lines around his mouth were indented deep with dimples to match. He was good looking and it was no wonder the deputy woman was flirting back.

"That's alright; I'd rather not get sick, thank you." I smiled nervously.

"I've heard a lot about you. I only knew Ben for a short time, but he was a good sheriff. How is he?"

"Good." Did he know what happened and why we were gone? Why Ben had to leave Caldwell and his sheriff's post?

"Be sure to tell him hello for me. I'm assuming you have moved back to Caldwell?"

"Yes." I didn't know what else to tell him.

"Welcome home. I'm sure we'll be seeing one another soon." He smiled and looked at me up and down. "You look radiant today." He left, his smile making me feel uneasy. As he walked away I stared him down. He was lean and muscular for being in his late forties and obviously took care of himself.

Whispers started like wildfire all around. Several deputies watched as I waited impatiently for the sheriff, their hands covering their mouths as they talked.

"It's the psychic girl who went missing last year," I heard a man say.

The old beams holding the vaulted ceilings were painted black since I was here last. More desks had been added and several people were sitting down in the lobby waiting to file a report with a deputy. I was lost in a sea of strangers.

"He'll be right out," the woman from the front said.

The door of the sheriff's office opened and a man in his early fifties approached, his gray hair slicked back. His eyes, dark brown and deep in thought as he focused on the paperwork in front of him. He was good looking and clean-shaven.

"Hello Ms. Colebrook, I'm Sheriff Dale MacMullen, it's an honor to meet you." His thick cowboy accent made his suit look out of place. He belonged in the fields with horses, not behind a desk. I shook hands with him and he led me back to his office past all the officers watching.

"I hear you need to speak to me about a case?" He sipped his coffee and typed away on his computer.

"Yes. I don't know if you know anything about me, but—"

"I've been briefed." He straightened his striped tie. "I'm sure you're here about your friend's case?"

"Yes. I want you to reopen it. I have new evidence."

"You do? Tell me." He held his coffee mug and checked his computer again. Was he even listening?

"I was in a car accident a year ago. It wasn't an accident. I was run off the road by Lizzy's murderer."

"And how do you know it was her murderer?"

I could tell already he was a skeptic. He didn't believe in psychics.

"I just know. He was driving a lifted diesel; I think it was black—"

"Do you have his plate number?" he interrupted.

"No, but his truck, it was black, and he was wearing a baseball cap. I can't remember the team's logo, but I think—"

"You think. You don't know. Where's your evidence? Do you know how many black lifted diesel trucks there are around here? We are in the country. I'm sorry; I don't mean to be rude, but where are you going with all this? I have a lot more important things I need to be taking care of right now."

"If you just reopen her case I can prove to you—"

"Now Ms. Colebrook, I know your father was sheriff here in Caldwell, and he was a great sheriff, but I run things a little differently than your dear old daddy did."

My blood boiled. How dare he disrespect Ben, Lizzy, myself?

"Yeah, my daddy did run things differently, and it seems everything he did to preserve this town was wasted by an egotistical sheriff like yourself." I could feel the heat coming from my red face.

Dale sat back in his chair. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but I'm not going to waste my efforts, which includes time and money, on a missing runaway. There are far more important things going on."

My blood wasn't boiling anymore, it was bubbling over; the fire inside me was ablaze. Everyone behind us went silent as they watched and waited for me to react.

"Well, Sheriff, if you had even looked at her file you'd know she wasn't the type of girl to just run away. You have a killer out there on your streets and you're letting him get away with it? Who does that?"

"Where's her body? We can't be investigating a murder when we don't even know if she's dead." His face stayed monotone.

"Oh I'll prove it. I'll get the guy, with or without your help." I grabbed my coat. The whole station watched as I slammed open the doors and walked outside. The cold air washed over my hot face, slowly soothing it.

I was going to find the truth and Lizzy's killer. Where would I start when I was on my own this time? Ben wasn't sheriff anymore; I had no police backup. What was I going to do now?

Home

172 Dry Creek Road was my home for a year before my car accident. The smell of jasmine and lavender from the gardens, the sweet taste of peaches and apricots from the orchards Ben's ancestors planted generations before—Caldwell was much smaller then—just a passerby town, now full of megastores and truck stops. The branches of the trees stood gray and bare against the white of winter snow; Tanya's herb garden from her greenhouse dried.

The snow covered most of their ten-acre parcel, and my horse, Cobalt, along with Ben and Tanya's horses, were gone from the pasture.

Colin's '49 Ford pickup sat in the driveway. I wondered how long he was waiting for me. I looked over at him from my car window. His head popped up and he got out of his truck as I parked.

"How'd you know I'd be here?"

He lowered his head and gave a heavy sigh. "Do you even have to ask?" Colin knew Ben and Tanya's home was my sanctuary.

"I'm surprised they didn't sell this place." I looked over to the Black Angus cowherd moving along the neighbor's fence line in the back of the property. In the summer I could hear them from my open window, the mamas mooing to their young who trotted behind them. I'd watch the herd from my window, grazing, and some laying under the trees for shade to escape the hot sun.

Ben wouldn't have sold it. This place meant too much to him and Tanya. This is where he grew up, where they got married, where they wanted to build a family together. It was no wonder they wanted to return from Denver so quickly.

The door to the craftsman home stuck hard and it took us a while to get it open. All the furniture was the same, covered with plastic to keep the dust and mites away. I flung the sheets from the windows to let the afternoon sun warm the living room. Dishes, pots, pans, our kitchen table, all remained. They left it all behind so quickly after my accident to ensure the shadow man didn't find me. Their efforts wasted now that I was back.

Kindling and logs were in their place next to the woodstove. Colin started a fire while I walked around the house, soaking in my memories I had forgotten.

He wanted to talk. As much as I was angry with him, I had to remember a year was gone since that night.

"What happened to Cobalt?" I broke the silence.

"Dyami has him."

Dyami was a longtime friend and mentor of Ben's, just as he was a mentor to me. He had the same psychic connection as I had, and I'd often confide in him my darkest fears of my "gift" and the visions I was constantly having. Ben knew Dyami was the only one I trusted to take care of my horse. I was glad he didn't sell him to a stranger.

"So, you remember everything now?" He knew I did, he just wanted to hear me say it.

"Yes." My head pounded louder as the memories continued to flow.

"Maya?" I couldn't look at him. "Please understand I didn't want to hurt you like I did."

I looked up at him and it all came out. "You broke me, Colin. You took away something I'll never get back, but worst of all—you couldn't admit to me how you really felt after you threw me out of your truck."

"I cared—I care about you. I'm sorry. That night was such a—"

"Mistake? You told me you loved me first. Remember?"

"I was lonely. After Lizzy died you were always there, keeping me up and positive. You're the only one who knows how hard it was for me to be a dad to Stacey. I was only eighteen—I didn't know what I was doing." He paced the floor. "I still don't know what I'm doing."

"Do you want me to feel sorry for you? Would that make you feel better about what you did to me?"

"No, I'm telling you how I felt then and how I feel now. I'm sorry I took advantage of you and telling you I loved you. It wasn't right."

I laughed with anger. I did have my gift back. I could tell he was lying. "Really? Keep telling yourself that. Maybe you'll start believing it."

"Maya—"

"Get out. I can't handle you right now."

"Maya, please?" He reached for my hand when I pulled it away.

I tried not to burst out crying; I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me crushed, again.

"I can't believe you kissed me last night. What was that? You wanted to see if I'd sleep with you again? So you can toss me out like you did before?"

"Let me explain—"

"Leave! I don't want to hear your excuses."

"I'm sorry." He laid Ben's gun on the coffee table, the same one left in the Mustang after my accident. The one I fired at the shadow man. "It's loaded."

"Can you go now?" I pleaded as the tears began to flow.

"I promised Ben and Tanya I'd watch over you until they got back." He placed a cellphone next to the gun. "This is for you. I'll be here when you want to talk." And then he was gone.

Colin said the truth would hurt; it hurt more than I thought it would.

My room, bed, clothes, pictures, jewelry, all mine. I lay down and soaked it all in. I sifted through my clothes and smelled their mustiness. My cowgirl boots, dirty, just the way I left them, were at the bottom of the closet. I tried them on, missing the feel of their worn insides, some of the padding coming out. I could clean them up—make them look new again, but I liked the dirt—it reminded me of what I had missed.

A pile of my sketchbooks sat on my nightstand with a new set of pencils Tanya bought me right before the car accident.

The boy in the gray hoodie—I had been drawing him since I was twelve. He was always in my dreams, pulling me out of the smoke with his soft hands. We grew together with each passing year. He'd get taller and older with me. I drew him just the same over five years, as I did in Denver. No more distractions, Maya. Focus. Forget about Sunshine.

An article I carried with me since I was fourteen was wedged in between the pages of one of my sketchbooks.

Girl, 12, found wandering barefoot on Highway 120 just along the Beartooth Pass. Caldwell's Sheriff's Department reacted quickly when flames were seen coming from the woods just a few miles in where the girl was found. A small cabin with two bodies later discovered to be the remains of a man and a woman, presumed parents of the unknown girl. It is unclear at this time who these adults were, and why they were living in the woods illegally. Police suspect they were hiding from the law. Both bodies were burned beyond recognition. The unknown girl is in custody of social services.

"The girl was in shock," an ambulance driver who was there that night stated. "She couldn't remember what happened, just her name."

"We believe the girl cannot remember due to a serious trauma of some sort—who knows what she saw or what she had been through," a doctor at Mount West Hospital in Caldwell, MT told media. "She came to us very ill and emaciated. She's been starved for years; her bones are very weak. Her head had been shaved, and her body was full of bruises and burns. We're trying all we can to get her healthy again."

I folded the article again. Lizzy had found it through the Caldwell Post online one day back in freshman year. She wanted to help me find the truth to what happened when I was a child and who my parents were since I couldn't remember them.

"Was this about you?" she asked quietly. I leaned over to her computer, Ms. Riley going on about Shakespeare in the background as I read the article.

"Yeah, now close it down before she sees," I whispered so our teacher couldn't hear.

"I'm going to print it. Maybe one day you'll remember who your parents were and what really happened." She smiled.

My binder was full of the 8x10 photos I took with Ben's old 35mm camera. I smiled at the photos—mostly of Lizzy modeling for me and Stacey playing with the ducks at the lake.

The lake. The flashes of the night I spent with Colin stuck to my brain again. How could I have ever forgotten? His hands on mine, his lips; the taste of his Axe body wash from his sweat. Did he not know how much I needed him then like I needed him now?

He was mine, for a short time.

Ms. Sader

Fifteen Years Old

July 23, 2003

Bear Creek Lake was beautiful as the summer sun beamed itself down on us. Our one-piece swimsuits were hand-me-downs from Ms. Sader's orphaned children before us. They weren't new or the two pieces that Cindy Wakefield and her stuck-up friends had. They were going to be seniors and we were the "immature" sophomores who would never be as pretty and perfect as them.

"Wow, look at what she has on today. There's a hole in her shirt. Pathetic." Her words picked at me like a scab.

Lizzy told me to stop caring so much about what others thought. "We don't live in their world and they'll never live in ours."

Stacey threw her fishing line in the lake and Brian splashed us with water while we tanned. "Brian! We're going to kill you if you do that again!" Lizzy threw her water bottle at him.

He devilishly laughed and did it again. "Come on, girls, let's get some ice cream! I'm bored," twelve-year-old Brian begged us.

Lizzy and I were teenagers and didn't want to hang out with the "children." We were at the lake to boy watch and get tan, something Stacey or Brian wouldn't understand yet.

"In a minute," I said as Lizzy and I sat up from our towels to admire the shirtless bodies of the boys driving by on their wakeboarding boat. It was an eye-candy field day for us that year with senior and college boys all around.

The ground was hot even through our flip-flops as we quickened our pace to get to the air-conditioned convenience store near the entrance of the lake. I adjusted my shirt so it covered the burns on my back; I didn't want anyone questioning them while we went into the store. A group of boys a little older than us were joking and laughing outside on benches, drinking their blended iced coffees. Lizzy and I nudged each other and tried to make ourselves look cuter by straightening our hair and changing our walk to give a little show. Lizzy didn't need to do any of this. She was a natural beauty.

The boys stopped talking and watched as we walked by. A couple of them said hi and we shyly replied back.

One of the boys came up to Lizzy, asking her something in private. She smiled at the boy and nodded her head. When she was done talking to him she grabbed my hand.

"We're invited to a party!" she shrieked quietly so the boys couldn't hear.

"When? Where?"

"Tonight. By the docks. They're throwing a bonfire! How sick would that be? Our first party! We have to go. Say you'll go with me?" Lizzy pleaded as she licked the dripping ice cream off her thumb.

"He invited you, not me. Plus, Ms. Sader will kill us if she finds out," I reminded her.

"You're invited too. He said his friend thinks you're cute, but was too shy to talk to you!"

I tried to see which boy might have been admiring me, but they all left in their cars.

"We can sneak out after she goes to bed. Stacey, don't you dare tell her," Lizzy demanded.

"I won't. Can I come?" Eleven-year-old Stacey looked at us innocently.

"You can't. This is a grown-up party. You won't have fun." We weren't grown-up in the least bit, but we felt older, especially getting invited by senior boys. We both agreed we'd go and raced to the bus stop to get back home to find something to wear.

"You made it." The boy who invited us was a little too excited to see Lizzy. "Here—have a beer." He handed her a drink from the table behind us. Another boy walked up and smiled at me as Lizzy and her new friend got to talking.

"Hey. I'm Tommy. You're Maya, right?"

I started to shake. His tall figure towered over my short body. "Yeah." I looked down, shy. Keep it cool, Maya.

"I saw you earlier at the store. I wanted to say hi, but I was a little nervous." He was shy like me and I liked that about him. He scratched his eyebrow and looked down at his drink. "I'm glad you came. You look really nice. I like the way you did your makeup."

He noticed! Thanks to Lizzy, the bags under my eyes were gone.

"Thanks." I was nervous and didn't know what to say.

"Here." He handed me a drink from a red cup and I took a sip. The fumes from the alcohol made me cough. I didn't like it, but pretended I did. I was going to be a sophomore—I had to fit in with the older crowd.

By the time the moon was high in the sky, Lizzy was already making out with her new boyfriend. My head started to pound from the drink, even just after a few sips.

Colin and Derek drove up in the pickup. I cowered and turned my body. We were busted; if Colin saw his sister we'd be dead. Lizzy heard the rumble of his truck and quickly pulled her boy toy up as they hid behind a group of people.

I watched as Cindy Wakefield made her way over to Colin and kissed him on the cheek, handing him a beer. He put his arm around her. Why couldn't that be me his arm was around? Why Cindy Wakefield, of all the girls in school? Then again, I was still a kid in his eyes; she was everything I couldn't be. She perked her perfect breasts up in the air and sipped her beer.

"What are you looking at?" Tommy noticed.

"Nothing, I think I need to get home." I started to feel sick to my stomach.

"Come on, I know something that'll get your mind off your troubles." Tommy grabbed my hand. I looked at him and then nodded my head.

We sat down along the shore behind a big rock, watching the waves and the stars above. For a while Tommy talked me up, how sweet I was, how beautiful my eyes were. He played with my hair, twisting it around his index finger. I never had a boy fawn over me like he did. I wished it was Colin, not Tommy.

"You alright?" he asked as I held my head.

"Yeah, I have a headache though."

"Just relax." He leaned in and started to kiss my neck. The hairs on my body stood up; a vision came to me. He was going to do something bad to me.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I pushed him away.

"What? We're having a good time, right? Plus we're out here by ourselves." He forcefully kissed my lips as my head fell down in the dirt. We were there by ourselves—the music from the party too loud to hear me screaming if I had to.

"Get off me!" I yelled as he got on top of me, holding my shoulders down. My body began to get weak; I couldn't fight him off anymore. Darkness began to settle over my eyes. What did he do to me?

"Get off her!" Colin threw Tommy to the ground. Lizzy and Derek ran over to me. I turned my body over and watched Colin beat Tommy's face. Bam! Whack! The sound of his fist meeting bone. He wasn't going to stop until Tommy was dead. Derek held his friend back, trying to stop him before he did any more damage. Lizzy yelled my name until her voice was no longer clear.

Colin's right fist was red, a few cuts in his knuckles. I squeezed his left hand, waking him. He quickly moved. Don't let go, I said to myself. I was in the hospital with an IV in my arm. Lizzy and Derek talked to two sheriff's officers in the hall. Stacey lay asleep in Colin's arms and Brian lay on the bench watching TV, his foot fanning back and forth.

"Hey." Colin made sure I didn't sit up. I held my throat—the pain excruciating. "They had to pump your stomach. That Tommy guy gave you a roofie."

My eyes widened and I coughed. "I didn't know." I tried to move, but my stomach was sore. Ms. Sader's eyebrows scowled, her nostrils flaring. She wore her flowered scarf around her white hair to hide the bedhead; she managed to have time to put on her thick gold earrings and orange lipstick.

"Hello, Maya. I'm Sheriff Ben Thornton. How are you feeling?" the officer asked.

I shrugged.

"I heard about this boy, Tommy. We'd like to get your side of the story if you don't mind?"

I nodded.

"Can you tell me what he gave you to drink? How did he give it to you?"

"He said it was rum and coke," I answered. Ms. Sader cleared her throat and looked even more upset now. "When we first got to the party he came up and handed it to me. I sipped it a few times, but I really didn't have that much."

"Did you at any time feel threatened by him? Or did he try to make you go with him somewhere?"

"Yes. He asked if I wanted to go walking along the lakeshore. He was on top of me, holding me down, that's when I started losing consciousness." I was starting to put things together now. This Tommy boy was going to do something really bad to me—like in my vision. I would wake up and not even know what happened.

"Anything else you can tell me about the night?"

I was hesitant.

"You can tell me," he assured.

"I saw something, when he touched me."

"Not this again. She claims she can see things, but it's just her imagination. Right?" Ms. Sader said, trying to get me to agree with her and keep my mouth shut.

"Hold on a minute, let her finish." Ben's words were strict and I liked that he put her down. "Go on, Maya, you can tell me."

"I had a vision Tommy was standing over three girls, like he was in charge. Like he had some kind of a hold on them." I coughed again and Colin handed me some water.

"She can see things sometimes. She's like a psychic or something, but you have to believe her." Colin stood up for me too.

"Alright, I'll look into this. Get some rest." He handed me his card with his direct number on it. "Call me if you think of anything else."

"What's going to happen to him?" I asked.

"If he's found guilty, and the evidence is already piled pretty high, we'll make sure he gets the help he needs."

That was all I needed to know. This kid was sick and needed more than just help.

"Young man, I need to speak to you." Ben and the other officer looked at Colin's fist.

He was just protecting me; I wanted to yell to them. I watched Ben as he shook his head and pointed his finger at Colin. I didn't want him to be in trouble.

Lizzy came over and hugged me. She didn't let go for a long time and whispered in my ear, "I'm sorry. If it wasn't for me none of this would have happened." She held onto my hand. If it wasn't for her bringing me there, Tommy would have gotten another girl. It had to be me. It had to be that night and it had to be for a reason.

Ms. Sader came into my room with a hot cup of tea and soup. It was too hot in her house with no air conditioning, but this was the only food I could stomach since getting out of the hospital. My body was still weak. She closed my door and sat on the bed next to me. I thanked her and reached for the soup. She was clenching a heavy object in her hand and it sloshed as she set it on the floor.

"That boy was arrested last night." She threw the newspaper article on my lap. "Guess the story you told police made the three girls he raped come forward."

I read the article. Tommy would be tried as an adult. I couldn't believe it. My visions actually helped people.

Ms. Sader's face was bright red from the heat and her Bible was now open to a passage. "If you refuse to listen to the Lord your God and do not obey all the commands and decrees, all these curses will come and overwhelm you." It wasn't uncommon for her to bring her Bible out when punishing us. This time was different, her expression motionless as she read the scripture.

"The Lord himself will send on you curses, confusion, and frustration in everything you do, until at last you are completely destroyed for doing evil and abandoning Him."

From the open window I could hear screaming. I looked down to see a young girl, five or six, pointing her hand up to me. I tried to figure out who she was, where she came from, but it only took a minute before I realized she was dead. Another ghost had come to me. The girl was dressed in a dirty white nightgown. Her hair was cut short, almost buzzed, and she had no shoes on.

"What are you doing?" Ms. Sader put her Bible down and stood up.

"I heard screaming. There's a girl down there." I tried to get her to look, but she folded her arms.

"Do you see what the devil wants you to see? What he tells you to see? Does he talk to you?"

I looked back to Ms. Sader, who was locking my door. Her belt dangling down and her old-woman flabby arm muscles flexed—getting ready to strike. I knew what was coming. I looked back down to the little girl who was crying, holding her hands up to block something from hitting her face. When I turned around the belt met my shoulder, the sting coming from the metal buckle, sending a shiver through my bones.

"I said do you see the devil? Does he come to you?" She struck me again, and again, her voice ranted out more scripture. The belt was wet and I smelled my skin at the odor coming from it. Kerosene laced the leather as she continued to strike my body.

"Ms. Sader, what are you doing? Stop! Help!" I ran to the door, but she blocked me, striking me again until I fell to the floor. I could hear Lizzy and Stacey on the opposite side screaming for her to open the door, tugging and trying to unlock the handle.

I went silent and let her beat me. I let her do what she felt was best. Maybe I was meant to be beaten, broken down, and handed over to the devil. Maybe I was evil. Maybe I deserved every lash I was ever given.

She continued to recite the Bible as she tried to rid me of the evil. I let God come into the room, I let Him help her punish me for all the wrong I did. The little girl appeared next to me now. She reached for my hand, crying. It's okay, I told her. I'm going to die, and that's okay.

Kerosene splashed wildly over my body, some getting in my mouth, making me gag. Ms. Sader put the empty bucket down on the ground and stood above me, fists clenched. I looked back at the little girl lying next to me. She pointed to Ms. Sader's hand. A match was going to be my damnation. She was handing me over to the devil, and so fitting to set me on fire for him. I thanked her for what she was doing; I would finally be at peace from the misery that haunted my life.

Before she could drop the match, the door burst open and two officers pulled Ms. Sader down to the ground, holding her back and grabbing the lit match from her hand.

Ben Thornton appeared out of the chaos. He looked at my face, which felt numb from the bruising starting to form. He swept me up in his arms and carried me out of the room. Lizzy and Stacey were curled in the corner of the hall crying hysterically. Colin came rushing up the stairs, his eyes reaching out to me after seeing my body limp.

Ben sat me down in the tub and turned on the cold water. He and Colin lathered my soaked body with soap and let the water take the kerosene off it. The smell still lingered and I was beginning to fade. A paramedic ran in, helping me onto a gurney. They inspected my frail appearance; I was on display for everyone to see.

"Are these old burns?" The paramedic showed Ben my back. They all looked terrified at their discovery. I sat in silence, blankly staring into the dark hallway, waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel.

I woke up to a beautiful woman's face staring and smiling at me as she held my hand, gently rubbing it. "Good morning, Maya. My name's Tanya." Ben Thornton's hand made its way on her shoulder and they both greeted me. "You're safe now."

Cowboy at the Door

Headlights shone in through the top of the windows in the living room. I had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the fire, which had almost burned out. I grabbed Ben's gun and cocked it—who was in the driveway? Ben and Tanya were back in Denver; Colin had already been here...who else, besides the shadow man, was coming?

I aimed the gun toward the door in the darkness and waited for the person to walk in after they discovered the door was unlocked. Why didn't I lock it?

I pointed my gun out as he swung open the door, catching him off guard. He drew his .45 quickly back at me. We stood with our guns drawn for a few seconds until both of us realized what was happening.

"Put the gun down now!" the young officer yelled. I didn't hesitate and threw my hands in the air. "Turn around." I did as he pushed me against the wall to put me in cuffs. He looked around the room. "Anyone else here?" He shut the front door.

"It's just me." I was breathing heavily, startled with how quickly I was in cuffs. "Officer, I was just trying to protect myself—I live here."

He looked at my face, trying to see if he could make out who I was in the dark. I didn't know him—he was new, and no older than twenty or twenty-one. A rookie, Ben would call someone as young as him. He'd never hire someone that young. They were a liability—he feared.

"What's your name?" he asked, curious.

"Maya Colebrook."

He quickly took the cuffs off my wrists. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Colebrook. Your neighbor called and said someone broke in."

I bent down and grabbed the gun and put it on the table to the left of me.

"When I saw the gun I just reacted," he explained.

"It's alright. You did good—exactly what you should have done." Ben had taught me all he could while I lived with him and the do's and don'ts of being an officer of the law. The young deputy thought quickly on his toes, especially after seeing a gun pulled on him. Ben would have given him praise for that.

He took off his cowboy hat, revealing long brown hair with blond streaks slicked back in place.

Tears started to flow as I sat on the couch. Why was I crying? Had I ever stopped crying?

"Ms. Colebrook, are you okay?" He spoke like a true cowboy; his words were soft, like a melody. For whatever reason I started to laugh. He was confused at first, then realized I wasn't when I sobbed and laughed louder.

"No, I'm not. But I'm fine, you know?" Tears gushed out of me. I needed someone to talk to.

He bent down to my eye level. "I'm so sorry if I scared you. I didn't mean to—" The fire made his brown eyes glow, a hint of orange around the outside circle—I had never seen a color like this before.

"It's not you." I wiped the tears away.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I realized I was about to pour my soul out to this cowboy stranger. I got up quickly to put another log on the fire. He followed me over.

"I'm sorry; I'm just a mess right now, obviously." I poked the log and the fire rose. My sweatshirt was soaked with tears.

"I'm guessing so, since you are the Maya Colebrook, right?" I felt sick again. The Maya Colebrook was back—what did this mean? I nodded my head yes at his question. He smiled and looked nervous. What did he know about me? I didn't go to school with him, not that I could remember.

His personal radio came to life. "Ninety-nine check in."

He excused himself and answered dispatch. "Ninety-nine—house is clear." He smiled at me.

"I'm deputy MacMullen—Tucker. It's nice to meet you." We shook hands.

"MacMullen? Any relation to the sheriff?" I hoped he wasn't. He was too nice to be related.

"Yeah—he's my dad." He smiled proudly. I could see the resemblance—their hairline was the same; he had his father's nose and eye shape.

Why? What were the odds of the sheriff's son being on my doorstep just a few short hours after I made a scene at the station? Did he tell Tucker to check on me after I left in a huff? Afraid I was plotting some kind of an uproar?

"How do you know who I am?" I was curious.

"I've heard the stories—from some locals. You're a psychic medium or ghost whisperer—depending on who you ask. You once rescued a little boy from his father who killed his whole family. There's a bunch more stories, but that one is the most talked about. You're the town hero." He smiled.

"Yeah, well, don't believe everything you hear." Like what your father probably said about me.

"Do you need anything? Are you really here alone? I just worry about you being out here by yourself."

I'm not that alone if the neighbors are watching the house and called you, I wanted to say.

"I'm fine, thanks." I wanted him gone now.

"I'm guessing you will be if you have any more .22s lying around." His smile took up his whole face—I wanted to be mad at him, but it was hard for me not to smile back.

What? Are you joking, Maya? His father sent him here—the old neighbor next door is probably asleep.

"Sorry, again. I couldn't see your car in the dark." I should have known your father was sending you to watch me.

"That's alright, but don't be carrying that around in public," he joked. "You're not eighteen yet, right?"

"In a month." I'd need to get a permit to carry when I did turn eighteen.

"Oh, okay. Well, I'll be leaving now. Let me know if you need anything," he put his hat back on.

Snow started to lightly fall. It was quiet out and I decided it was a good idea to lock the door this time. Someone tried to kill me just a year ago—and now I had the sheriff watching me.

I curled back under the blanket and fell asleep on the couch, dreaming of the handsome cowboy at my door—and his callous father.

Then I thought of my Sunshine. How I wished he was here with me. My sketchbook was open to his picture I had drawn over a year before. Would he always be there—to pull me out of the smoke?

First Lesson

Sixteen Years Old

March 29, 2004

Ben came rushing in my room, banging the door against the closet. I dropped my pencil and homework on the floor, startled as I saw his face, white like he had seen a ghost. He looked at me and didn't say anything. Something was horribly wrong. The river of blood ran behind him in the hall; someone was dead.

"I need your help."

Blood stained his hands and fingernails as he steered his sheriff's truck fast through the streets. "There's a lot of blood. A lot of people dead. Can you handle that?"

"Yes."

He knew I could handle it. I told him and Tanya I saw ghosts, spirits, demons. I was constantly being haunted by the souls of the dead, or whatever else decided to come out to play in our world. I didn't know what he wanted me to do—but I was there for him.

We pulled up to a house on Dunker Street. Squad cars lined the entire block, the coroner parked in front, and people were standing around outside, neighbors curious as to what was happening inside the home. Blue Happy Birthday balloons were blowing in the wind, slowly swaying to the sound of death. My gut started to hurt. I knew what was coming as I followed Ben inside.

Blood stained the walls, handprints on corners of the hall...they had tried to get away. I fell to the floor in pain, holding my stomach like someone was stabbing me.

"I need a pen and paper!" I yelled out. Ben grabbed them from his pocket. I started jotting down notes, drawing a hand stabbing a woman, a little boy in the corner crying. Before I saw the mess of bodies, I wrote down the details. "He stabbed the mother. Shot the others. They had no time to react, they tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen. He took the boy."

Ben turned around and looked at me, astonished. "Yes, how did you know that?"

"Let me see them. I think I can help."

We entered the living room—four dead bodies. Blood stained the floors where they lay. I took a deep breath, trying to hold back the nausea from the smell, and looked down on their lifeless bodies. Ben watched me, carefully holding onto my arm in case I fell again. I reassured him I was alright and he let me go.

They had been celebrating Sam's fifth birthday. His grandparents flew in from Utah and his aunt and uncle were there as well; their bodies shredded with bullets. I tried not to look at their faces which were full of fright; their eyes and mouths wide open. The boy's grandfather lay on top of his wife to protect her, but the bullets went through his body into hers. They died with their hands grasped together. I heard their screams, begging the man not to pull the trigger.

The boy's mother lay flat on her back in the kitchen, holding her house phone. Stab wounds ravished her body, her brown hair full of blood. Her flower dress was stained red; one of her shoes was in the living room, the other on her foot. "He chased after her as she fled to get her phone. He saved her for last and took his time to ensure she suffered the most which is why he stabbed her." I replayed the scene to Ben.

The mother's spirit appeared before me—crying, holding a picture of her little boy. I was never used to spirits that did this, but when they did I knew it was important—I had to listen to the woman, listen to what she was showing me. The woman looked up, her eyes now crying blood. She reached out her hand for me.

"Are you alright? What do you see?"

I ignored Ben as I watched the woman. Her mouth moved and she was trying to tell me something. I tried to read her lips, but her presence was weak and she started to fade away. She said the same thing over and over again.

"The woods. He took Sam to the woods. We have to go!"

Ben ran after me.

I pointed the way as we rushed through the streets to get to Blackbottom Forest, Ben's truck barreling through the hills.

"Where is he taking him?" Ben asked.

"He has camping gear. He's going to hide out in the forest and when he thinks you've lost his trail, he'll take him somewhere else."

"How far are they now; can you see?"

"I don't know. I can't see anything else." I tried to get a vision, but nothing came to me. Ben started to dial a number.

"It's Ben. I need your help. Can you meet me at the entrance of Blackbottom Forest? Yeah, next to the ranger station. Bye." He hung up the phone and then radioed into his team. "We'll need our tac gear. Reynolds, go back to the station with Lowry and meet back with us."

"On it, boss," Reynolds radioed back.

When we got to the ranger station, Ben got out of the truck quickly and opened his backseat.

"Maya, come here." He motioned.

I got out and he put a bulletproof vest over me.

"He has a gun, and you saw what he did to those people. He has no soul and he won't think twice about shooting at us first."

I nodded my head. He tightened the vest and pointed for me to wait next to the truck while he talked to the other deputies about the plan.

A few minutes later a red Ford Bronco screeched down the highway and parked behind Ben's squad truck. The driver grabbed a backpack from the front seat and gazed at me from his windshield. He was reading me—he knew I had a gift. He had a gift too.

Ben walked over to his car and greeted him with a friendly handshake. "I want you to meet someone," he said to me. I shuffled forward. "Dyami, this is Maya. Maya, Dyami. He's a trained tracker." We shook hands. "The two of you have a lot in common."

The man was in his sixties. His long braids defined his face around his pronounced forehead full of wrinkles. He didn't take his eyes off me.

"Maya. It is nice to meet you." His voice was quiet.

"Dyami is going to help us find the boy. You need to stay here while we search, do you understand?"

"No, she must come with us." Dyami looked at Ben as he commanded him to let me come.

"Do you know how dangerous the man we are tracking is?"

"I have seen what he did, but she needs to learn. It will help her in the future."

Ben looked at him and then back at me. He sighed and nodded yes.

"Alright. Listen to me, Maya. You run and get to safety if anything happens to us. Understood?" Ben held onto my shoulder and looked at me straight in the eyes.

"I understand." My heart jumped and my hands became sweaty.

Snow covered most of the ground, but winter was just dusting off its first layer and began to melt in the afternoon sun. We made it to the end of the road where several cars were parked and hikers were just getting ready to leave.

"Have you seen a man with a young boy go into these woods?" Ben asked as he ran up to them. They all shook their heads no and explained which trail they just came from. "You all need to leave now." The hikers got into their car and sped off. I watched Dyami go around to each car, touching the hood, and holding his hand on the door handle of each driver door.

"Maya, come here." He pointed to all the cars. "Which one is his?"

I looked at him and shrugged my shoulders.

"Go, do what I just did. Tell me which one."

I shyly touched each car hood and driver door; what was I looking for?

"Listen, Maya, to what your heart and mind tell you. It's as simple as that. You just need to listen."

Slow down, Maya. You've done this before, just do it.

A beat-up old station wagon was last. I touched the handle and was thrown back—like something stabbed my hand. I touched the handle again—this time it was too hot to touch—the heat from Hell. A demon flashed in my head, snarling as I jumped back farther. His horns reached several feet high in the air, his eyes black as night. Fire. Lots of fire.

"This one." I pointed to the car and looked inside.

"What did you see?" he asked.

"A demon. The handle is hot too—like it's been in a fire."

"Very good."

"Did you see the same thing?" I begged. If someone else could see what I could then I wasn't a freak. I could tell him all about the spirits who came to me. Demons, just like the one I saw, constantly haunting my dreams—he'd understand. He wouldn't look at me like I was insane.

"I did. You must never be afraid when that happens. The demons are in Hell; they cannot hurt you."

"What if they can?"

"What do you mean?" he turned to look down at me.

"I've seen a lot of demons in my dreams, but I also see them like spirits when they appear to me. One of them attacked me while I was sleepwalking. He grabbed hold of my wrist and burned me. He looked just like the demon I saw just now."

His eyes became wider. He touched his forehead and shook his head.

"I know—crazy, right?" I laughed, trying to downplay what I said. Maybe I couldn't tell him everything. I was still the weird girl who could "talk to the dead."

"No." He looked at me seriously. "It's not crazy. Don't ever believe that. Your gifts are strong. I will teach you how to defend yourself against those demons, so they'll never hurt you again."

"Guys! This hiker said he saw a man and a little boy just above Rocky Ridge—it's a hike, let's get going!" Ben yelled to us.

We made our way into the depths of the forest. Ben and I followed close behind Dyami, watching his every move. We came to a fork in the trail and Dyami bent down to look at the ground. He motioned for us to look at what he saw.

"There are small footprints here. They went this way." Dyami continued on. "Watch for any broken branches, or a clearing in the trees. Anything that looks out of place." I shook my head. "Use the wind; your senses are your biggest advantage. The spirits will guide you to what you need to find."

We walked on for what seemed like miles. Ben handed me a water bottle and I took a few sips. The deeper we got into the forest, the colder it became. It was late afternoon; winter birds stopped their chatter quieting the forest, and we needed to hurry our pace before nightfall. The temperature was going to be in the low twenties.

Dyami stopped and listened to the forest. He walked over to a bush and touched its frozen stem. "This way." We were going off trail now.

"He knows we're here," I said.

Dyami nodded his head in agreement. "We're close." He touched a broken branch and listened. He was picking up something; I felt it too. Sam was little and was starting to slow them down. His father picked him up and carried him as he tried to hurry. Then Dyami turned and looked at me. "They've stopped. Ben." Dyami motioned for Ben and the other officers behind us to get their guns out.

Ben drew his and stationed me behind a tree. "Stay here." I could hear branches breaking ahead of us. They made their way, quietly, through the woods toward where the man was hiding. I followed, despite Ben's command.

As we walked I was hit with a flash. A gun. It would fire and hit someone. I tried to get Ben's attention, but they were too far ahead and wouldn't hear my whispers. I had to warn them.

A gunshot and a scream. I quickly ran up to the commotion and saw Ben with Reynolds, who was shot in the arm. I followed behind Dyami and kept going.

"Maya, get back. Now!" More gunshots from nearby buzzed by our heads. I quickly turned back. Ben and I got Reynolds to shelter behind a tree and listened. Dyami came up to Ben and pointed to where the man was. I could see his leg sticking out behind a bush.

"You get the boy; I'll distract him." Dyami ran to the opposite side of Ben and threw a large stick; the man fired into the bushes. Ben stood next to me, breathing heavily. I stayed where I was supposed to this time and watched.

"You're surrounded! Let Sam go!" Ben yelled out to the man.

"Stay back! I'll shoot you all!" The man walked in circles, pointing his gun out, firing into the woods randomly.

"We have snipers ready to fire. Put the boy down now!" Ben was lying, but it seemed to work. I watched as Sam's feet hit the ground and start to run off into the woods.

"I just wanted her to love me. She took everything from me—everything!" the man yelled out as Ben and Dyami approached him, guns aimed and ready to fire. I ran and grabbed Sam and assured him it was alright. His little brown eyes sobbed into my jacket, his cheeks were red from the cold and I warmed him with my hands.

"I know, but right now none of it matters. Drop your gun and you won't get hurt." Ben got closer to the broken man.

"I'm not going with you. Don't you see? She took everything. My son hates me because of her. My own parents won't even talk to me. I didn't do those things she said I did to her—I didn't!" He beat his wife—a man full of demons. I held Sam and waited. "I'm not going to jail. I can't. I can't do this anymore. I killed them, just like I'm going to do this."

"No—don't!" Ben yelled.

Click. BOOM.

Sam yelped in fear. His father was gone. How quickly life could be taken away and turned upside down. How quickly a little boy's life was ruined due to the selfishness of his father—the man who killed his wife, her family, and then himself. I held Sam tight as he cried hysterically.

"Shh, it's over. He can't hurt you anymore." Even though he was dead, what he did to his family, to himself, would always hurt Sam. He was alone now. Like the lone girl walking barefoot on the highway.

Dyami

Dyami's ranch was a fifteen-minute drive from town and through a winding two-lane road. His home was higher in elevation, leaving bigger piles of snow from the last snowstorm. I was glad to have grabbed my extra warm winter coat from Ben and Tanya's.

My legs shook in anticipation as I got closer. I hadn't seen him or Cobalt in a year. I desperately needed my teacher and mentor more than ever. He'd know what to do next with Lizzy's case.

His red Bronco was parked in front of his barn next to his silver work truck, but before I could see him I had to see Cobalt. I made my way out to the pasture and looked for him. Ben and Tanya got him shortly after they adopted me, a "welcome to the family" present. They rode their horses, Rocky and Bullwinkle, every day and wanted me to be able to go with them, on my own horse. I never had something so precious of my own before while in foster care. Cobalt was more than a present—he was my companion, my confidant after Lizzy was gone.

Way out in the middle of the field I saw his long ears perk up as I called to him. He galloped toward me, stopping just inches from the fence that divided us. I reached my hand out and scratched his nose and ears. He nudged my hand and started to sniff my pocket for a treat. I always had an apple with me back home and was mad I forgot to bring one with me.

"Looks like you're having fun out there, aren't ya boy?" I rubbed him some more. His coarse white hair felt like home against my skin. I counted his brown "love" markings as Tanya called them. Twenty-three—just as many as I remembered. His tail twitched a few times and he rocked back and forth on his hooves. His thick black eyes watched mine closely, wondering if I was going to take him on a ride. "I'm sorry I left you, but I'm back now."

Rocky and Bullwinkle trotted over, remembering who I was too. I petted them and made my way to the house. My reunion with Cobalt would have to continue later.

I stumbled up the front porch steps, my knee giving out while I made the last big heave, tweaking it just enough to send a shooting pain up my leg. I wasn't doing my exercises—Fay would be mad.

His rocking chair swayed in the wind and his ashtray was full of cigarettes—a habit I tried to make him break, but he never gave in. His front door was open and I stepped inside.

"Dyami?" I went through the kitchen. His old wooden stove sat in the middle of the living room next to his lazy lounge chair and an obsolete box TV from the early nineties. Native American artifacts of his ancestors hung on the walls and beautiful carved pottery lay on glass shelving. He displayed his heritage proudly.

"Maya?" He dropped his laundry basket and hugged me. "Thank God you're alright." He looked at me all over. "You're hurting." It was hard to keep secrets from a fellow psychic.

"I'm alright, it's just a little cold outside is all," I assured him.

"Come in, sit down. Let me look at you." He held my hands. "Oh you've grown, just in a year! You're even more beautiful." He kissed my hands. "Ben called and told me everything. You don't know what a wreck I've been for a year. I tried to reach out to you in your dreams—to see if I could find you, but you were gone. The most frustrating part is I knew you were alive, but I couldn't communicate with you."

"I was in a coma and then when I woke my memory was gone. I'm sure that's why. Now it's all back. Well, everything except from my childhood. Still."

"You still don't remember your life before twelve?" He was sorry and shook his head. "It'll come back to you soon enough."

"I'm trying not to think about it. I need to focus on Lizzy right now."

"Yes, Ben told me you were staying with Colin. I was going to come see you today. I could feel you needed my help." He stood up and started a pot of coffee.

"Well, Colin and I got in a little fight. I stayed at Ben and Tanya's old house last night."

"If you need a place to stay, you know you can always come here. I know you and Ben are mad at each other. When they get back, are you going to stay there?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"Come stay with me. You can help me with the horses and the cattle." He smiled. "So, tell me everything." He limped to the stove.

A flash of a horse rearing—he was thrown off. "I'm not the only one hurting," I pointed out.

"I know. It was my stupidity that got me hurt. I didn't test the horse before I rode him to see if he was scared of cars. I took him down on the highway to ride and a diesel truck went zooming by. Like I said—it was my fault."

"Did you break it?" I asked.

"Yes, about eight months ago. I don't heal the way I used to," he joked. "Enough about me. What's going on with Lizzy's case?"

"I went to see the sheriff yesterday to tell him what I saw in my nightmares. They finally are pieced together, Dyami! The whole night—what happened to Lizzy." Before my car accident, the dream I was having of the shadow man was just bits and pieces like it was after I woke from my coma.

"That's great! What did the sheriff say?" Dyami poured coffee in two mugs. I took a sip of mine and coughed. "Sorry, a little too strong for your young stomach," he joked.

"It's good." I coughed again. I felt grownup drinking it, no matter how bitter it tasted. I'd have to get used to it—I was turning eighteen soon and I'd have to join the "adult coffee drinking club."

"The sheriff was no help," I told him. "He just shut me down and didn't believe that Lizzy was dead because there was no body."

"Let's work on getting some hard evidence for him. I'm sure if you do this, he will reopen her case." He was optimistic.

"I hope you're right. I'll need to come up with a plan."

He agreed and laughed. "Oh, I just can't get over how grown up you are now." I blushed. "I wanted to give you something." He pulled out a necklace from his shirt pocket. "I've been carrying it around with me since I was a young boy, but it's finally time I pass it on."

He dangled it in the light from his kitchen window. A tiny inlaid silver ball hung from the chain. A latch opened, revealing a pinch of dried rosemary leaves.

I breathed in the aromatic herb—my memories taking me back to Tanya's greenhouse. "Cut me off a stem, would you? I want to use it on the chicken tonight for dinner," she asked, handing me her short bladed scissors. I'd cut the stem and cut another to place on my nightstand to dry. The pine-smelling herb was my safe haven.

"It's beautiful, look at the details." I admired the delicately cut swivels and swirls made in the sterling silver.

"You know what this is, don't you?" he asked.

"I've seen rosemary used in movies before, but they're usually with crosses. Isn't it to ward off the evil spirits—like they did in The Exorcism?"

"Oh why do you watch that nonsense?" He chuckled. "Listen to me." He got serious, his brown eyes at my level now. "This goes deeper than any scary movie or book you'll ever read. There's evil all around us, Maya. This necklace is not just to protect you from evil, it's also to protect you from yourself." He put it over my head. "There's a constant battle going on between good and evil, and we are tempted with that evil at every turn. When you're struggling with your inner self," he held up the pendant close to my face, "this will help you remember who you are. It will help you make decisions you never thought possible. It will save you some day. You must always carry it with you and remember its powers."

"Save me from what?" What would I need saving from—besides the shadow man?

"That is what you'll have to discover on your own." He smiled, letting the necklace drop to my chest. "We come into this world alone, we go through it alone, and we leave it, just the same. Your journey and your path are yours, no one else's."

"I don't know if I can do any of this alone." I admitted.

"You're going to have to Maya. It's the only way you can become the person you were born to be."

"Thank you." I hugged him, savoring another of his lessons. "I'll wear it always."

I thought of the fortuneteller woman and her rosemary pouch. Did she get a vision that I'd be sitting here with Dyami as he gave me a rosemary necklace? Was she trying to get me to remember him? She too said there was much evil in the world. Too much evil. I was beginning to see the woman wasn't a hoax at all; she had a similar gift as Dyami and I did. What else did she see that day about me?

A Map

The librarian smiled, her rounded glasses rose. "I'm so happy you're back—you know the whole town's talking about you. We all heard about the accident, but no one knew where you went after. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing alright. Just needed a little break." I couldn't tell her the details.

If everyone in town knew I was back, then the shadow man would be watching me soon, if he wasn't already.

"Next time you come just bring your ID and I'll get you a library card." She handed me the computer access card and I thanked her.

The smell of used books and stale air saturated my nose. A few people smiled while I sat down at one of the computers. I went through articles from the Caldwell Post about the election. After Ben left, Caldwell needed a new sheriff; I wanted to know just who this guy was.

Sheriff MacMullen was fully supported by Mayor Ward, which I guessed is how he won. The mayor took office just before my car accident and I had never met him until I saw him at the station the same day I met Sheriff MacMullen. I didn't know who was who anymore. Two of the city commissioners were elected by the mayor, and one, Kelly Freeman, was already in office and was reelected. I remembered meeting her a few times—she was a nice person with a good heart.

Tucker walked in through the doors with another deputy. I slowly sunk down and hid my head so he couldn't see me, but my efforts were wasted when someone strolled by loudly saying my name and welcomed me back. The two deputies came over and I began to look busy, typing away at the computer and minimizing the article about his dad.

"Maya!" Eric Whitehouse, a friend of Colin and Derek's, picked me up out of the chair and squeezed me tight. I was excited to see him. "I heard you were back!" He had grown six inches in the year I was gone, and had lost a lot of weight. I didn't think he'd make it through the academy, but here he was, a deputy—his dream.

"Eric, look at you!" I was happy for him.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I used to be fat. Don't stare too long; it'll make my wife jealous!" He held up his wedding finger.

"No way! You and Angie tied the knot?" I touched his wedding ring.

"Yup! Just this last summer. You'll have to come over to our place sometime and have dinner," he offered. I had completely forgotten about Tucker, who was nervously standing behind Eric. "Hey, Tucker, this is Maya—my psychic friend I always talk about."

"Yeah, we met last night actually." Tucker smiled at me and waved.

"Oh? What'd you do, arrest her for being a troublemaker?" He chuckled. Little did he know that's exactly what happened. "I heard about you and the sheriff. Sorry Tucker, but your dad's kind of an ass." Eric was blunt.

"I heard about it this morning. Sorry about him. He has a lot going on right now." I was sure he was trying to convince me that his father didn't send him down to check on me.

"Don't mean to be rude, but we're on break and I've got to run and grab a book. We're having couples reading group tonight and Angie will kill me if she finds out I never read it. Another Mia Angelo book. The guys never get to pick out what we read 'cause we'd all pick thrasher thrillers!" I laughed. "So while we're on patrol I'll be reading up!" He joked and walked away, leaving me with Tucker.

"So, how are you? Feeling any better today?" He leaned against the wall as I sat down. I tried not to be distracted by his brown eyes and cowboy drawl—this sort of "talk" driving my insides crazy. I thought of Tim McGraw, my cowboy crush.

Enough distractions, Maya.

"Yeah." I tried to ignore him.

"Whatcha reading?"

"I'm trying to figure out why your father backed the new highway development." I was rude, hoping he'd take the hint to go away.

He straightened up. "Look, I know why you're mad at me. I'm sorry my dad shut your friend's case down. I didn't know anything about it until this morning." He was sincere.

"Sure."

"My dad is a good guy, but he doesn't always act like it. He's just stressed right now. Once you get to know him—"

"I doubt that'll ever happen." I repeatedly clicked my pen until he realized I was done talking.

"Alright, I'll see ya around." He tipped his hat and walked away.

Good, get out of here, I wanted to say.

After Eric and Tucker left I printed page after page of information about the highway and who the developer was—an anonymous patron. I had never seen this before. Usually people with big money who fronted projects like this wanted their name to be known. I'd have to dig deeper to find out.

I followed my finger along Culler Highway on the map—where the shadow man ran me off the road.

I looked for a wiggly line, or any kind of line to show me where the dirt road was. Nothing. I didn't just imagine a dirt road—it had to have been there.

According to the county assessor site, the government owned the land where I thought the dirt road might have been on the map. There were no structures or farms, just an electrical easement.

What was I missing? I'd have to go back again to the dirt road, but this time I couldn't go alone, and I had to go in the daytime. Dyami would go with me. I'd need him there for support—or protection.

Ben and Tanya's car was parked in the driveway with a small U-Haul cargo trailer behind it. The apartment in Denver came furnished, so they didn't have much to bring back; I didn't expect them back this soon, though. My heart raced as I went inside. I didn't know what was going to happen; I just knew I was mad.

Tanya hugged me. "Maya, honey, Colin told us your memory came back. Are you alright? We just got some groceries at the store and I'll be starting dinner soon. Why don't you stay so we can talk it over?"

I looked up to see Ben walking down the stairs, his temper still raging from our last argument two days ago.

"I'm okay, just here to get some things. I'm staying with Dyami," I lied, but he did offer, and I was hoping he'd still let me now that they were back.

"Good, glad you're not staying with Colin anymore," Ben sneered. "He's the reason for all this anyways."

"You should stay here; we put your clothes and all your things from Denver up in your old room," Tanya said, changing the subject.

"What do you mean, Ben?" I followed him into the kitchen, ignoring Tanya.

"Nothing, he's just upset that Colin brought you back here." Tanya scowled at her husband.

"I called him and he said you remembered everything and stormed off from an argument you two had. He was supposed to watch over you until we got back. Instead he just let you go!"

"I owe Colin," I argued. "If he hadn't brought me back here I probably would never have remembered Lizzy! You two would have made sure I'd never remember."

"That's not true, honey." Tanya reached for my hand, but I yanked it away. "We were going to tell you, but—"

"You kept me in the dark for all that time. Lizzy was my best friend! She was murdered! Her killer is still out there and you were just going to let him go free and let me forget? You weren't going to tell me the truth and you know it!" My face was hot.

"Maya, no, we were, just after you turned eighteen." Tanya started to cry, pleading for me to listen to her.

"Just forget it, there's no point." I ran up the stairs and gathered some clothes and my cowboy boots. I found my iPod in the box labeled Maya and grabbed it along with my sketchbook, pencils, and journal.

"Don't go, please, baby?" Tanya's tears fell down her pretty cheeks, smearing her mascara, begging me to get out of my car.

Just go, Maya. Don't look back.

Tucker

One more, Maya. You can do it, I said as I pushed myself to do one more bicycle exercise. It felt good to get up and moving—I'd need to get into a routine again like back in Denver.

My knee gave out. I pushed myself too far with the exercises—taking my anger out on Ben and Tanya as I did my lunges. Ignore the pain.

I threw my zip-up jacket on Dyami's guest bed and wiped the sweat from my forehead. Another country song I loved came on and I turned up the volume on my headphones and sang along.

Be sure to stretch after you're done, Fay reminded me in my head.

I walked out to the kitchen, stretching out my tender shoulder and arms. I continued to sing, knowing Dyami was already up and attending to the horses. Lizzy and Tanya always told me I had a good voice, so I sang a little louder as Faith Hill and Tim McGraw sang "Like We Never Loved At All," my favorite duet. The song brought on a new meaning now that I remembered what happened between Colin and me.

Someone pulled my headphones from my ears and I quickly turned around. My heart stopped.

"I didn't know there was a concert going on in my house." Dyami laughed.

Tucker, of all people, stood behind Dyami, getting another cup of coffee from the pot. He had seen me, I knew it, not just heard me singing like a crazy person, but my scars, the burns on my back. I quickly pulled my spaghetti strap shirt up to hide the scar on my chest and pulled my long shorts down farther to hide the one on my knee.

"Don't stop because of us. It's been a long time since I've heard you sing." Dyami smiled behind his coffee cup.

"What...what are you doing here?" I looked to Tucker. He was wearing a plaid work shirt and cowboy boots. His tank top was dirty—how long had he been here for?

"Oh, you two know each other?" Dyami grinned even bigger.

"Yeah...well, sort of." I hesitated.

"I arrested her." Tucker sipped his coffee and looked at me. Why did his eyes have to sparkle?

"What?" Dyami was confused. "When was this?"

"A couple nights ago. Mrs. Edison called saying someone broke into the house next door," he explained.

"So you arrested her?" Dyami laughed.

"She pulled a gun on me." He smirked.

"What? No, it didn't happen like that." I tried to explain to Dyami. "I was defending myself; I didn't know you were a deputy," I turned to Tucker. "I couldn't see him in the dark." My chest and face were bright red.

"Well, what a story." Dyami's coffee cup smooshed his gray mustache. "Good, I'm glad you two are acquainted already, saves me the energy. Maya, I'll need you to help Tucker out with some of the horses today, if that's alright?"

"Um, yeah, but I need to—"

"Good, I'll be headed to town here shortly."

"I'll just go with you—I need to stop by somewhere." I couldn't ask him in front of Tucker about the dirt road. I needed Dyami to go with me, but I couldn't chance Tucker telling his dad.

"Oh no, I've got a doctor's appointment—they got to check my old ticker out. That could take a couple hours. Then I've got to go down to Billy's and get some more hay and you know how he likes to talk."

"I'll get the hay while you're at the doctor's." I was trying to give him the hint I didn't want to be left alone with the sheriff's son, but he kept going on and on about all the things he had to do and I couldn't go with him. Excuses. Why didn't he want me going? Why didn't Dyami tell me the sheriff's son was working for him after I told him about the bicker I had with him at the station over Lizzy's case?

"I'm just going to go...get ready." I slipped to my room after Dyami left, leaving Tucker and I awkwardly standing in the kitchen.

He must have seen my scars; my gut hurt. What if he asked about them? What was I going to say? I made sure the buttons on my long-sleeve shirt were fastened and hiding the scar on my chest as I trudged through the melting snow in my cowboy boots. Cobalt stood at the fence line. Dyami said he stayed there all morning, watching and waiting for me. I patted him and went to the barn.

The morning sun warmed my body while I walked through the open barn door. Tucker had already started mucking out the stalls. I watched him effortlessly rake the hay into the wheelbarrow. He had taken off his work shirt, exposing his muscles under his tank top. He wasn't as big as Colin, but he could do some hefty lifting if he needed to. I quickly looked away, realizing I was staring at the cowboy in the stall.

I cleared my throat. "So, what are you doing here?" I wasn't friendly.

"Muckin' up poop," he said seriously.

"No, what are you doing here? How do you know Dyami?"

"Oh, he's a friend. My dad bought a couple horses from him last year. He needed the extra help after he broke his leg so I offered to help while he was recovering."

Why can't I find a reason to hate you?

"And you?" He was probably wondering the same—why a seventeen-year-old was in an old man's house wandering around in a spaghetti strap shirt and shorts.

"He's a family friend. I needed a place to stay."

"What happened to your parents' house?"

"Well, we aren't really getting along right now." I didn't want to tell him anymore. He's the enemy; remember, Maya?

"Sorry to hear." He moved on to the next stall.

I nervously fiddled with some broken wood on one of the horse stalls. "What do you need me to do?"

"If you want, you can start brushing those two." He pointed to Abby, the brown filly Dyami rescued less than two years before, and Frankie, the brother to his horse, Ralph.

I grabbed Abby's lead rope. "Come here, girl." I clicked my tongue to get her to pay attention as I tied her to the stall. Tucker and I were quiet while we worked.

After I was done with Abby and Frankie I looked out into the pasture at Cobalt, who was neighing impatiently for me. Tucker looked out at him. "Wonder what's wrong with him."

"He's just mad at me." I smiled.

"Why would he be mad at you?"

"That's Cobalt, he's my horse. He's mad I'm not paying any attention to him." I walked up to the fence and kissed his nose. Tucker put his work shirt on and jumped on the fence, watching me. "Would you be patient?" I reprimanded Cobalt for being so noisy.

"I didn't know you had a horse here." Tucker massaged Cobalt's ear as he sniffed his pockets for a treat. He took out an apple piece from the pouch connected to his belt and fed it to him.

"Yeah—Rocky and Bullwinkle are Ben and Tanya's." I pointed out to the pasture. Cobalt stomped his feet in front of me.

"He really wants you to take him on a ride."

"You just wait!" I scolded Cobalt.

"Come on, let's take a break," Tucker said and before I could respond he was already climbing through the fence to grab Cobalt's lead. He got Ralph, a Thoroughbred who was retired from horseracing when Dyami bought him.

I found my saddle and Cobalt's bridle in the tack room. Saddling him up was like second nature and brought back so many memories of our rides together at Ben and Tanya's. Tucker put on his cowboy hat and watched and waited for me to adjust the cinch. We took off toward the trails past the other horses in the pasture.

I watched Tucker, a natural rider, his perfect posture, like he had been riding horses his whole life. He belonged in a John Wayne movie, riding into the sunset with a beautiful maiden holding onto him tight.

We passed by some trails, all of which ended back at the barn. "Hey, where you goin'?" I looked behind me as Tucker made his way up a trail I had never explored before. I turned around and followed him up the hill. The trail was full of low-lying branches, making us have to duck or lean to one side or the other to avoid them.

"You sure this is a trail?" I yelled.

He slowed down and started to laugh. "What? You can't handle it?" He sped up until he was out of sight. I nudged Cobalt's side to pick up his pace. When I finally got to him he was stopped on the top of a hill overlooking Caldwell.

"Wow, I didn't know this was up here." I looked around as Cobalt sniffed the ground for a snack in the snow.

"This is my favorite trail. See that house way down there? I would love to live there or someplace like it." He pointed to a cabin that sat in the middle of nowhere. It was small and nestled in the junipers with open land for livestock grazing and a barn. "I've always wanted to own something like that with views like this."

I turned and looked at him as he smiled and looked out at his sanctuary. I was surprised at how calm he was, despite what he did for a living.

"Your dad's house is like that." He turned his horse around, facing me.

"It is. The house and land has been in Ben's family for a long time. Before Caldwell was Caldwell."

"That's awesome. So, you call him Ben. Is it that just because you're mad at him—a teenager's rant?"

He was only two years older than me; surely he'd still have his own rants with his dad.

"I was adopted. Ben and Tanya aren't my real parents."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know."

"It's fine." I was short with him, in hopes he would change the subject.

"What happened to your real parents?" He was digging too deep.

"I don't like talking about them." I was rude.

"Sorry."

I felt bad. I was shutting him down when he was just trying to be friendly.

"I'm sorry, it's just I don't remember them."

"What do you mean?" he wondered. "Didn't your memory come back?"

"It did, but not all of it."

Cobalt neighed loud, interrupting us.

"Did you grow up around here?" I changed the subject. "I don't remember going to school with you."

"No, I'm from Mountain City. My dad was a police officer there. We lived in a house on my grandparents' property. The two of us moved here when he got the sheriff's position."

"What about your mom?"

"I don't really like talking about her." He put his head down. We had something in common. Heartache.

"Sorry," I replied.

"Now it's awkward."

"Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about what happened between you and your adoptive parents?"

I sighed. Be nice, Maya. "I'm just mad at them for lying to me about something."

"I'm assuming has to do with your accident? Eric told me everything," he admitted. I forgot he and Eric were coworkers, and Eric and Colin were friends. Eric knew all that happened since Ms. Sader. I hoped he hadn't said anything about her or the Tommy incident to Tucker. "Sometimes people do things out of love, even if it doesn't seem right to you. Maybe you should tell them how you feel."

"Some things you can't remedy."

"You're stubborn." He was forward.

"Excuse me?" I nearly choked.

"You're bossy, too," he went on. "Maybe if you let people in, you wouldn't have to put up your wall."

"I'm sorry, you don't even know me."

"It doesn't take much to see what you hide behind those hazel eyes of yours." He circled around me with his horse. "Don't be offended, just means you've been hurt too many times. It takes a lot for you to trust people."

I wanted to yell at him—how dare he talk to me like that?—but then stopped myself. He was right. I had built up a wall taller than the highest building and the thickest concrete dam. "I'm sure you understand, being a deputy."

"Yes. I see all walks of life, believe me."

We continued along the trail, my mind racing from his words.

"Don't be mad about what I said." He smiled.

"I'm trying not to be. I've just never had anyone tell me something like that to my face. My friend Lizzy always kept me straight, but she was never that brutally honest."

"Maybe we all need a little more truth in our lives. People lie to me every day. They all find excuses for their behavior, but no one ever tells the truth or confesses what they've done when the evidence is stacked against them. I'll always tell you the truth even if it hurts."

"I've never met anyone like you."

"Then you see my dilemma." He joked.

"Yes. And you see mine."

He raised his eyebrows in agreement. "So, are you still mad at me?"

"No." As much as I wanted to be, I couldn't.

"Good. I'm glad we got over that. So next time I see you in the library, you won't click your pen excessively until I leave?"

I laughed. "No. And if we're being honest I was mad at your dad, not you."

"I know. Eric told me who Lizzy was. I'm sorry my dad shut her case down, but if you find any new evidence, let me know."

"Your dad isn't interested in reopening her case."

"I don't care. It was wrong for him to shut it down in the first place. Just let me know."

"I appreciate it."

He circled around me. I giggled while he showed off.

"So, how fast is Cobalt?"

"What do you mean?"

Tucker continued to circle around me, his smile making his whole face brighten in the sunlight.

"Beat ya back!" Tucker and his horse bolted in front of us. I kicked Cobalt a few times to get him to realize we were in a race. He was still the fierce stallion I left behind, and caught up to them in a heartbeat. He was in front where he liked to be.

When we got back to the barn we both were laughing as Cobalt and I got there first. Dyami pulled up in his work truck with the hay and groceries. He got out and clapped his hands. "That's my girl! See, I told you he was a champion as soon as he took his first steps."

Tucker helped me down off Cobalt, his hands brushing mine as I handed him the ropes. He smiled at me while we laughed some more.

"What's my prize speed racer?" I joked with Tucker.

"Your prize is unloading all this hay!" Dyami yelled. Tucker and I grinned and got to work after putting the horses away.

I was happy to have a new friend, one that was truthful like Lizzy, especially a cowboy who was good-looking with eyes that sparkled.

Distraction

After Tucker and I were done with our chores we went inside to wash up. Dyami had dinner on the stove; my stomach growled after a long day.

I changed my shirt and pants and looked at my phone. Five missed calls—one from Tanya, the other four from Colin. Tanya wanted to make sure I was alright and Colin never left a message. I texted Tanya and told her I was fine and with Dyami.

"Tucker, would you be so kind as to start a log in the stove?" Dyami asked politely. Tucker nodded and opened the latch to put some kindling and newspaper in the burn chamber.

"Got all you needed from town?" Tucker asked Dyami.

"Yes, and now that my two favorite people are here, I want you to stay for dinner." He insisted for Tucker to stay.

"I should probably get going." Tucker stood up and looked at his dirty shirt. "I'm a mess; anyway, you don't want me smelling up the place."

"You don't turn down an old man's wish to have company over for dinner. I eat alone all the time, and tonight I get to entertain." He was insistent.

I looked at Tucker and smiled as he put his hands up in the air. "Well, how could I say no to that?" He went over to the fridge and grabbed a water. "Want one?" I nodded yes.

"What are we having?" I looked over at the veggies Dyami was cutting up.

"Ham, cabbage, and potato soup. Hearty and good for when you've been workin' all day. Isn't that right, son?" he looked to Tucker.

"Yes sir. Sure is!"

"Plus, it'll warm you back up from that ride you both went on."

My phone rang—I looked over at it. Colin. Again. Dyami and Tucker watched as I clicked it off.

"Someone's been trying to call you all afternoon," Dyami said.

"Yeah, nobody important." I shut my phone off and put it on the counter to help Dyami finish making dinner.

"So what are you going to do with the horses and cattle when you sell the place?" Tucker asked Dyami. He never told me he was going to sell his ranch.

"I've got a few buyers coming to look at the cattle soon and I'm taking some horses to North Dakota in a couple days. They'll be split up, but they're all going to good homes."

Dyami would be leaving—I needed him to stay, to help me with Lizzy's case. Why was he leaving now that I had just gotten back?

"Ben and Tanya are coming to get Rocky and Bullwinkle before I leave. Think they're taking Cobalt too." Dyami smiled. "It'll be good for them to go home."

Tucker looked up to see my response.

"That's good." I took another bite, although I wasn't hungry anymore.

"Take a look at what I found. I thought I accidently threw it away." Dyami stood up and retrieved a photograph. He showed it to me, then Tucker. I laughed and looked at it again.

"I can't believe you took a picture of us, look at all that mud!" I laughed again at Ben, Tanya, and myself, our hair, chaps, and horses completely covered in mud from an all-day excursion branding Dyami's cows. This was before my life turned upside down—before Lizzy was murdered.

"She's a natural," Dyami told Tucker. "Only took her a few tries, but she lassoed several calves on her own." I was embarrassed as he continued telling him about the day I became a cowgirl.

"She kissed each and every one of those calves after they got branded with the hot iron. Such a softy." Dyami chuckled.

"They were scared! I felt sorry for them."

Tucker laughed. "You know those cows get sold off for meat, right?"

"Shh, she doesn't know that." Dyami nudged my arm.

"Alright, alright, so I'm a softy for cows, yet I eat them." I laughed. I got up and started to clean the dishes.

"Here, I'll help." Tucker started to rinse.

"Thanks." I smiled at him.

"Maya, why don't you sing for us again? We need some entertainment." Dyami went over to his stereo and turned it up. "You know the words to this one, right?" Another of my favorite country songs, and I did know all the lyrics.

"Is it pick on Maya night? Come on, guys." I chuckled.

"You have a really good voice," Tucker said. How long were they watching me this morning, I wondered? "Don't be embarrassed."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Really, it's nice." He smiled.

After cleaning we made our way on the front porch and watched the night sky and gazed on the openness of the heavens above.

"Is that your ride?" Tucker walked over to my Mustang. I nodded as he looked around it. "Stick, huh? Cool. Maybe you'll let me take it for a spin sometime?"

"I don't know about that." I smiled.

"Oh come on, we'll make a deal. You let me take it for a spin through the mountains, just once, and I'll make sure you don't get pulled over for driving with expired tags." His offer was pretty tempting since I didn't have the funds to pay for new registration yet.

"Deal."

Tucker's phone rang and he answered it. "Hey. Okay, yeah, I'll be right in." He quickly walked past me and grabbed his cowboy hat and work jacket from the kitchen. "Thanks for dinner, and I'm sorry I have to run, but the boss is calling me in. You know how he gets."

Dyami slowly stood up and patted him on the shoulder. "You work too much. Be careful and see you in a couple days." Dyami sat back down and sipped his coffee.

"Bye." Tucker smiled and I smiled back. "I'll win next time now that I know your strategy."

I looked at him confused. "Are you talking about our little race on the horses? It really wasn't a race, because I totally smoked you."

"Yeah, next time though. Like I said—strategy. I know what yours is now," he teased.

"Strategy? It's all based on the horse, not the rider," I joked.

He thought about it for a second. "We'll see about that." He tipped his hat, got in his white lifted diesel truck, and sped off toward town.

"He's a good boy. Very smart."

"I'm glad he helps you out around here." I took a few sips from his coffee mug and coughed. I didn't think I'd ever get used to the taste.

"Yes, I am too. You know you two are about the same age, aren't ya? Well, he's a couple years older, but that's not a problem, is it?"

"Don't go there, Dyami." I gave him the eye.

"What?" He began to laugh as he cut off the end of his cigar. He reached in his pocket.

"Don't get any ideas; I know you. And didn't I get you to quit?" I went to reach for his lighter, but he buzzed my hand away. He lit the end.

"Old habits never die." He sucked on the other end of his cigar and slowly blew the smoke away from me. "Well I'm just glad to see you aren't with that Colin kid. Always the bad boy and treating you like dirt. Now that you're older I can say something."

I looked over at him, rocking in his chair, puffing away on his cigar. He knew everyone better than they knew themselves. He reached out and grabbed my hand and tapped it.

"You're a smart girl. You'll figure out soon enough who loves you and who's using you." He smiled and continued to rock.

I didn't want to talk about Colin. He was just another distraction.

"Dyami, I need your help with Lizzy's case."

"Alright. What is it?"

"Will you go with me to where I had my accident tomorrow?"

"Oh, Maya, I would, but I've got a lot to do around here. I'm sorry, but I just don't have the time. I've got to get ready for my trip to North Dakota next week. There's a lot going on."

"Right, totally, I completely forgot! I'll be here so I can help out." I tried not to sound disappointed.

"I could use it. I'm taking the other horses I'm keeping to Billy's while I'm gone so I don't have to worry about them."

"Good, that's good." I really was on my own this time.

I sat up in bed that night thinking of Tucker and his smile. I felt guilty being so mean to him before, but I was happy we were over that hurtle. No more distractions, Maya. Lizzy needs you. Now I just needed to convince the sheriff to reopen Lizzy's case.

A knock on the door woke us early. Dyami scuffled in the hall in his slippers. I yawned and stretched my achy bones and made my way to the kitchen as he looked out the window to see who it was. I covered myself in my robe. The sheriff stood at the door talking to Dyami, and both turned to look at me.

"Maya, the sheriff needs to speak to you." Dyami motioned for me to come over.

I looked at him up and down. What did he want? "Sheriff?" I said rudely.

His face was pale and I knew something bad happened in the night. Eric stood to his right and didn't smile or make eye contact with me.

"Good morning, Maya. I am sorry to disturb you so early, but I need your help." He wanted my help after he shut me down over Lizzy's case?

"What happen—" Before I could finish I was hit with the sight of red. Blood flowed like a river behind the two at the door. Then I could see what had the sheriff so upset. "It's Tucker, isn't it? Where is he?" I tried to look for him out in the car, anywhere, but he wasn't there.

"Yes. I need your help." His eyes started to tear up and I opened the door wider for them to come in. "Eric tells me you have a special way of tracking people, like Dyami. I need you to find my son."

Part II

Tears of Blood

It was time to get to work.

The driver door of Tucker's squad car was wide open, the vehicle's dome light on, and his keys still in the ignition.

Bing. Bing. Bing.

Eric took out the key to make the door chime stop. He half-smiled at me and patted my shoulder.

"I want you two to tell me which way those tire marks are going and if it's a car or truck." I pointed out to Eric and another deputy.

"On it." Eric was ready to get to work, whatever I needed.

I sat in Tucker's seat and felt the steering wheel, making my way around the leather interior and his computer. I looked up to the street lamp; it was nighttime through his vision and the light glared down into my eyes—I couldn't see the man who shot him.

Caldwell was quiet except for the church bells in the distance ringing in the wind. Time slowed as I knelt down to touch Tucker's dried blood on the cement, the queasiness taking over my body, the river of blood through the street disturbing me from the vision.

It wasn't Tucker who I saw, but a little girl. Her long black wavy hair dripped wet with red. Tears of blood dropped on the ground, spurting up like raindrops. She was not with Tucker or the man who kidnapped him; she was alone.

"He's been shot in the leg." I watched as Dale's hope began to dwindle. "He's fine, but he's lost a lot of blood." I was straightforward, not leaving out any details. "Eric, which way are those tracks going?"

"That way." He pointed toward Beartooth Range. "The tire tracks are pretty big. We're thinking SUV or truck."

"Alright. We have a direction and vehicle. Follow the sheriff's truck. Be prepared; we might need to stop abruptly if I get something," I told the officers and Dale.

"Is she for real, boss?" A deputy stopped the sheriff. "I mean, going off tire marks? Really? He could have turned down any of these streets."

"Listen here, buddy, she's the only one of us here numb-nuts that even noticed the tire marks. Shut up, be quiet, and learn something." Eric straightened up his shirt and everyone went to their squad vehicles in silence. He winked at me.

"This direction is headed toward the Reservation." Sheriff MacMullen was on the same page.

"Sheriff?"

"Please, just call me Dale."

I nodded my head. "I saw a little girl when I touched Tucker's blood. She's not with Tucker, but she's related to what's going on. I have a feeling you know who she is." I started to draw a picture of the girl I saw in my vision.

"Little girl? There are a lot of little girls in this town, Maya. I need you to be more specific."

"Long black wavy hair. About ten, a Native American girl. She wasn't where she was supposed to be." I held up the quick drawing of the girl.

"Last night a man came in and was worried about his daughter. She didn't come home after school. We told him we had to wait a few more hours just in case maybe she stopped at a friend's house. He was angry that we had to wait. He showed us a picture; she had long black hair, nine years old, a Native American girl." Bingo. "Do you think he shot and took Tucker?"

"Someone very angry shot him and it only makes sense that it's him. By taking your son, he was trying to show you how it felt."

"How do you do that? How can you get into people's heads without even knowing who they are? Or where they are?"

I couldn't answer him; instead I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. It just comes to me. Did the man tell you his name or leave his number?"

"No, he stormed off when we told him we couldn't do anything."

I'd have to go by my visions. How I wished Dyami was here with me, but he couldn't—not with his leg. He'd slow me down, he said. Before I left he told me I'd be fine. My first case by myself, involving a bleeding deputy, his dad the sheriff. I felt like throwing up.

Through the winding road we came to a clearing. A shiny reflection marking a driveway caught my eye. I made Dale pull over and go up the long drive. "He's just up here." I pointed as Dale and the other deputies followed in their cars.

"I know who lives here." I started to recognize the small cabin that sat in the middle of a thick forest of trees and the man's green Suburban out front. "I've been here before." Dale looked over to me, worried.

We piled out of the vehicles and lined up, everyone ready to go, guns loaded ready to fire.

"I need to go alone." I turned to Dale.

"Absolutely not." He shook his head several times.

"He wants me to find his daughter so he needs me alive. I'll be fine. He knows me. Please, Dale, you need to trust me."

He looked at the ground and back at the cottage. "It's too risky. I can't put your life in danger like that."

As he turned around I stormed up the stairs and knocked on the door. "Bris Granger? It's Maya, let me in."

I heard clunking footsteps getting closer.

"Are you alone? I'll shoot him dead if you try anything funny!" His voice was muffled against the door.

"It's just me." I turned to look at Dale, who was too far away to stop me before I walked in the door. When Bris realized I was alone he pushed me inside and held the gun to my head. He shut the door and I walked inside to find Tucker on a rug next to the fire, holding his leg with a blood-soaked towel. He was worried to see me there. He was pale and I knew he needed a hospital, and quickly.

Bris kept the gun pointed to my head while he frisked me. "You got a gun on you?"

"No."

"Maya, what are you doing?" Tucker's voice cracked. I ignored him. I'm going to get you out of here, Tucker.

"I didn't expect you to find us so quickly." Bris moved his position so his gun was back on Tucker. I studied his big muscles and tall structure. It would take five of me to bring him down.

"Is that why you shot him? So I'd find Karen faster?" I got closer to him. Karen, his daughter, was kidnapped. I could feel he knew who took her.

"You know why you're here then." His gun shook in his hand. I was thinking of a way to get the gun away from him, but couldn't chance Tucker being in the line of fire.

"You could have just called me, or Dyami, like before—when we came here to help you. I would have helped you find Karen without all this." I put my hands down and got closer.

He had called Dyami shortly before Lizzy was murdered, begging him to talk him out of killing himself. He couldn't go on anymore. His wife had died the year before and his drinking got worse. The tribe kicked him off the Reservation. He was going to end his life.

"Ben's not sheriff anymore and the new sheriff didn't believe me that Karen is missing. Someone took her. I needed a reason for you to help me save Karen!" Bris yelled out.

"Just calm down, Bris. I'm a friend, remember?" Did he forget what I did for him just over a year ago? His dead wife came through to me, told me to tell him she was at peace; she needed him to move on, for their daughter. I helped him realize he didn't need to end his life.

"Do you know who would have taken her?" He looked down and thought about what he was going to say. "I'm not a cop. I don't care what kind of trouble you've been into. I want to know so I can help you."

"I was selling weed for the Santos brothers," he started. "I told them I wanted out and I was done because I just got a promotion at work so I didn't need the extra cash. I wanted to do good again—for my Karen. They got mad and threatened to hurt her if I didn't come back." He was grinding his teeth and his eyes twitched. Something wasn't right.

"The truth," I pressed. "I know when people are lying. The more you drag this out, the greater chances Karen isn't coming home."

"Alright, I was dealin' coke!" he belted. "I stole a couple baggies and someone got wind of it. I didn't use it myself; I gave it to some buddies on the Res to help 'em out." He was still lying.

"To help them out? You put your life at risk so your junkie friends could get a hit and now your daughter is paying the price. And you wanted to do good by her?"

Bris approached me with tears in his eyes. The gun touched my head.

"No! Leave her alone!" Tucker tried to get up, but stumbled.

"Don't mock me! You find my little girl or I'm blowing his head off." He backed off me and went back to Tucker. I watched Bris for several seconds, thinking of what to do next. I knew this wasn't who he really was. People who were desperate were never themselves. I was out of options. I had to do what he wanted.

"Do you have something of hers, like a picture?" I sighed deeply, knowing the pain was coming.

"I got her school picture in my wallet." He perked up and took the gun off Tucker. He handed me the photo and I readied myself for the shooting pain to begin. When I took the photograph in my hands I fell backward, struck like someone punched me in the stomach.

She was locked in a house, in a dark basement, her tears still bloody. I looked down at my wrists—her wrists; blood ran from the chains and down my leg through the cracks in the floorboards, just like Lizzy's did in my visions. Tucker reached for me, and so did Bris. They didn't know what was happening.

The chains. Lizzy. Focus, Maya. There's a little girl in trouble. Lizzy will have to wait.

Karen was alive, but her captors had other plans for her to make Bris pay. They had already slapped her around when she tried to run away and chained her up like an animal, the chains too tight and heavy for her tiny wrists to endure. She was trying to pull her wrists through the holes of the chains, making them bleed and swell even more.

"I think they have her chained up. She's really scared and I need to get to her."

"So go! What are you waiting for?" Bris pointed the gun at the door.

"I'm not going anywhere." I took a deep breath and held onto my wrists, which were still throbbing.

"What do you mean? Go! She's in trouble. Hurry!" Bris walked up to me.

"I'm not leaving unless he comes with me." I looked over at Tucker, who was starting to close his eyes and pant.

Bris threw his arm out, knocking over a standing lamp. "If I let him go, you're not going to help me! I know it!"

I spoke calmly, hoping he would do the same. "I will help Karen, but not if he dies."

"I can't. I won't." He started to get mad again.

"Do you really want Karen to grow up knowing her father killed a cop? Imagine what that would do to her. She already lost her mom; you want her to lose her father too?"

"You promise if I do this you will find Karen?" His words—a plea.

"I promise. Let him go." I walked over and placed my hand on his husky shoulder. Bris broke down and fell to the ground crying. He handed me his gun and put his hands on his head. I moved quickly, motioning for Dale and the medics to come in. I ran to Tucker, who grabbed my hand. He was still losing too much blood, and I helped by keeping the pressure on the wound.

"You could have been hurt." His words were soft, low, concerned.

"I know." I examined his bleeding wound and applied more pressure to it, then looked back up to his eyes. They weren't sparkling anymore. "Stay with me." I begged him as I put my hand to his right cheek to help keep his head up.

His eyes never left mine. He squeezed my hand tighter, but his grip was weak.

The paramedics rushed in and got him on the stretcher and Dale followed the medics to the ambulance. Tucker assured his father he would be alright and to go help me find the missing girl. Dale and I waited as the ambulance took off toward the hospital.

Dale looked at me and shook his head. "Why'd you do that?"

"You wouldn't listen to me. I told you to trust me," I argued back, wiping the blood from Tucker's gunshot wound on a towel Eric gave me.

"You went in there without any protection. You could have gotten yourself and Tucker killed!"

"Boss, she saved Tucker, let it go." Eric stood up for me.

Dale marched angrily in the snow and took several deep breaths. He knew I was right for going in there. I saved Tucker. "Alright, what's next?" He looked to me after calming himself down.

"I need to retrace her steps. Bris said she didn't come home from school so that's where we need to start." Everyone nodded in agreement. "He's coming with us." I looked to Bris, who was being put in the back of a squad car.

"I don't think so. He's going straight to jail," Dale argued.

"I need him. There's more to what's going on than what he's saying."

Dale thought it through. He was starting to see what I could. "Alright. Load him up in my truck and we'll head to the school. Let's move it!" Dale yelled. Eric put Bris in the backseat.

I felt a surge run through me; the fire inside was back. The old Maya was back.

10:00 AM

Eliza's scrawny, drug induced body lay on the bathroom floor of her and Bris' two-bedroom apartment. Karen's captors slit Eliza's wrists, letting the blood pour out of her body until she was starting to lose consciousness. Then they slit her throat, her jugular vein slashed like paper. What little blood that was left in her body emptied out, until she was dry. How easy it was to kill someone high on meth—she didn't even know what was coming or happening to her.

I picked up the note from her body.

Pay us back the $50,000 or your daughter's dead too. You have until 8:00 PM tomorrow.

I slammed my palms on the hood of Dale's truck, looking at Bris through the windshield. I shook my head, angry. We had wasted valuable time searching for her at the school. He shot Tucker for nothing. If he had just showed the police the note, Dale would have taken action. More time was wasted away from Lizzy's case.

I yanked open Bris' door and threw him to the ground. I grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt as Dale and Eric ran over trying to stop me before I did some damage. They both were impressed such a small girl could take on a full grown hefty Native American man. In his weakened state I didn't need five of me to take him down anymore.

"I'm letting your daughter die today. How does that make you feel?" I pushed him back down to the ground. He tried to sit up and he began to cry even more. "You knew your girlfriend was dealing for the Santos brothers and that she stole the money. They killed her, now they have your daughter. Where's the money, Bris?"

"She spent it all!" he yelled.

"On what?" Dale asked.

"Drugs, a new car, clothes, she went on a rampage. I didn't have time to stop her before she spent it all."

It was almost 10:00 AM. We only had ten hours to go before they killed Karen. If Bris didn't have the $50,000 Eliza stole, we had to think of another way to save Karen.

"Damien Santos must have taken Karen when she got home from school," Bris explained. "Usually Eliza picks her up after her shift at 3:00 PM. I came home at 9:00 PM and found Eliza in the bathroom with the ransom note. That's when I went to the sheriff begging for him to find Karen."

"Why didn't you show him the ransom note? Why didn't you tell him about Eliza's body?" I was irritated. "You went through all of this, and for what?"

"I was scared!" Bris shook his head. "I didn't want Eliza's parents knowing she was still doing drugs. They had paid so much for her rehab, and if they found out she was dealing too? It would have killed them!"

I turned away from him. I didn't know who the Santos brothers were, or what their angle was. $50,000 was a fair amount to be angry over. A little girl was paying the price of her father's girlfriend's actions and was now in the hands of a crossed drug dealer.

"Someone tell me about the Santos brothers," I turned to Dale and the other deputies behind me.

"Carlos is the big brother, but he's in jail. The younger brother runs the streets selling coke. He's pretty under wraps and you have to have a connection to one of his dealers, but we catch them every once in a while," a deputy said.

"Let's go ask Carlos some questions, maybe he'll know what his little brother's been up to." Dale got on the phone.

Carlos sat in a chair, handcuffed to the table, smoking a cigarette. Several tattoos on his right arm depicted demonic creatures. I cringed as he looked at me up and down with his smug attitude. He rubbed the scruff of his face with the back of his hand and waited for his lawyer to enter the room before he would talk to us. Dale and I waited several minutes in silence, which gave me time to devise my plan of action.

The door opened and a beautiful young woman walked in wearing a tight suit and high heels that clicked as she walked on the concrete floor. Her hair was smooth and straight like she had just walked out of the beauty parlor. She introduced herself as Melissa Crane, Carlos' attorney, and sat down crossing her long skinny legs.

"Hello, Dale. Bringing in the local psychic to help you on cases now? Did you lose your competency?" Ms. Crane knew who I was—that I couldn't escape.

"Trust me, she's a better detective than any cop I've ever worked with, like your father...how's he doing, by the way? Still behind bars I hear?"

Ms. Crane sat up straighter in her chair and cleared her throat. "You must note that my client will not answer any questions that could incriminate him."

"Understood." Dale folded his hands on top of the table and leaned slightly forward. "Carlos, we need to ask you some questions about your brother, Damien."

"I ain't answerin' nothin' about my brother. You got beef with him, go talk to him." Carlos took another hit of his cigarette and blew it our way. The smoke filled the room and I tried hard not to cough.

"Guess you don't want to know what your brother's been doing since he started running coke." I snickered.

Carlos looked at me and cocked his head sideways. "You got a lot of nerve accusin' someone of somethin' like that." He spit on the floor.

"What? You didn't know?" I laughed and looked at Dale. "He's been running it since you got locked up. Oh and in that time he's killed a woman, kidnapped a kid, and kept you out of the profit of his successful new business. I thought your crew only ran weed and jumped cars? Now cocaine? I didn't think that's how you wanted your business to go." Carlos puffed up in his chair.

"You start accusin' my family of things you best have the proof to back it up!" Carlos stood, squaring his shoulders.

Ms. Crane coaxed her client to sit back down.

"With you out of the picture, Damien could do whatever he wanted, keeping your men happy by feeding them lots more money. Leaving you out of the cut only means more money for all of them." I was getting to him.

"He wouldn't do that. My brother may be stupid, but he ain't that stupid."

"Money means everything to your brother. I'm sorry for you, Carlos, that you're not getting your share of the profit." I smiled and started to stand up. Dale was following my lead, keeping it cool, when Carlos stopped us.

"Wait a minute. Sit back down. What else did you say my brother did? Killed a woman and kidnapped a kid?"

"Yes. A woman was dealing for him and stole $100,000 in cash. Some of your dealers found out, told your brother, he killed her, and now he has her boyfriend's daughter held hostage until he can come up with the money. Damien's going to kill her too if he doesn't come up with the cash," I explained.

"How do you know it was my brother who murdered that woman?" He was getting nervous.

"Your brother really should have been more careful with his fingerprints." Dale shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

Carlos motioned to his lawyer he was done with the interview. He was falling into our trap. "You better not be lyin' to me."

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" I said as Dale and I walked out of the room.

Dale closed the door behind us. "You sounded like a real detective in there. I'm impressed. So I'm assuming you're going to make me record his phone calls? Was that your plan? And why did you tell him Eliza stole more?" Dale questioned my strategy.

"$100,000 is more of a risk than just $50,000. He's going to call someone he trusts and I have a feeling he's going to lead us straight to Karen."

3:00 PM

We had the rundown old house off Third Street surrounded, ready to bring Karen home. I stayed nearby as Dale knocked on the door and a woman in her fifties wearing a pink fuzzy robe and her hair in a messy ponytail answered.

"Hello, I'm looking for Tasha Santos please," Dale asked as the woman looked him up and down and folded her arms.

"What do you want her for?" I could tell this behavior drove Dale crazy. He showed her the warrant as he walked inside the house. "You just can't come up in here like that!" Eric grabbed the woman and took her outside as she screamed and hit him all the way. I went in and began searching for Karen.

The house was a disaster. I stepped in a pile of Cheerios on the floor, the powder stuck to the bottom of my shoes as I trampled it across the carpet. There were half a dozen kids screaming and running around still in their jammies, and food burning on the stove. The TV in the living room was too loud as it blasted the SpongeBob theme song. I covered my ears and tried to follow my senses to Karen.

Dale found Tasha and sat on the couch. He showed her Karen's picture. "Please? We need to find her. Do you know anything? Where she might be? Who has her?"

"I don't have nothin' to do with that pig Carlos anymore. He's got three kids with me and doesn't pay nothin' for them. I haven't talked to that prick since he got locked up and don't know nothin' about this girl. I'd appreciate it if you all left me alone!" Tasha picked up one of the toddlers who was crying hysterically at the commotion and smacked her on the butt to be quiet. Dale looked up at me and I shook my head no. Karen wasn't there.

Eric let the other woman go back inside as we all talked out front. I started to feel pain again in my wrists from Karen; she was reaching out for help. I walked off on my own down the street.

Think, Maya. What was Carlos saying about the lady? He had one of his friends take Karen to his lady's house. Think.

I sat on the edge of the sidewalk. Lizzy's spirit was next to me. "I'm sorry, Lizzy. I know I should be looking for you," I said to her. "But there's a little girl who needs my help."

Caldwell was quiet; the traffic noise disappeared and I was left with just the sound of the bells from the church again. Bong. Bong. Bong.

Snow around my feet began to melt, fast, until there was water flowing down to the storm drain on my right. All the snow from the street liquefied and ran as fast as a river, past the cars parked along the sidewalk. I looked up at Dale and the other deputies. Were they seeing this?

As the water rushed by me it turned to red. The blood smell returned. Was it Lizzy doing this? Mad that I was distracting myself away from her case?

The street swayed back and forth, my body rocking with the motion. As I steadied myself I realized Lizzy was trying to help. What was she showing me?

Water, lots of water rushing down the street. The street—rocking back and forth. Think, Maya. What is Lizzy trying to show you?

The water continued to flow until I got it.

"A boat, she's on a boat!" I yelled to Dale.

"A boat? The lake's closed up for winter. Are you sure it was a boat?" Dale asked.

"Carlos told the man on the phone to take her to his lady's house. Lady is the name of his boat!" I had it. Thank you, Lizzy.

Eric ran back to his squad car and radioed it in to dispatch. He did have a boat registered in his name. The lake. That's where she would be.

6:00 PM

The sun started to go down and the clouds settled in across the icy water. We had been trying to find Karen all day and it was starting to weigh on us—the hours ticking closer to 8:00 PM. This was our last hope. If Karen wasn't here, we'd have to come up with the money.

Dale had me put on a bulletproof vest. My job was to sit inside the car and wait. He didn't know I hated to wait.

Dale and the other officers approached the building where the boats were stored in winter. I watched as they all went in, guns drawn.

My legs were shaking, I couldn't sit in the car anymore—I had to go in. Dale would kill me if I did. The men inside the building weren't desperate like Bris was. They were killers and they wouldn't think twice before putting a bullet to my brain.

A girl appeared in front of the building, her white nightgown soaked in red, chains around her wrists. Her brown hair covered her face. Lizzy.

Gunshots echoed through my open window. Dale was in trouble. Lizzy was trying to get my attention to go inside. I needed to get Karen out. I threw my door open and ran inside the building.

Men were yelling, bullets blazing. All of our blood heated with the chaos. I found Dale, who was standing behind a pile of pallets for cover. "Maya! Get out of here! What are you doing?" he yelled over the gunfire.

A man came up behind us and grabbed me into him, wrapping his arm tight across my throat and pointing a gun to my head. Dale quickly drew his gun up. Why didn't I see him coming?

"Drop it, slowly, or I shoot her then you." The Russian man's voice was drawn out and deep. He smelled of cigarette smoke and his breath was hot. "You think we are stupid? We saw you coming a mile away—idiot cops." The man held onto me tighter as I tried to wiggle my way out of his grasp.

"Let her go." Dale kept his gun pointed at the man.

"No, don't think so. Drop your gun now, on the ground, and kick it away."

Dale did what the man asked and put his hands up. I was calm, ready to take action at the right time. "Who is this anyway? No gun?" He pushed me against some wooden boxes.

"She's not armed, she's not an officer, so let her go." Dale got closer as the man searched my pockets.

"Not a cop? So if I kill her you are in big, big trouble, yes? What do you Americans call it? Civilian? That would be very interesting story on the news. Of course"—his hot breath whistled down my neck—"a lot of men would pay good money for this pretty face." He breathed me in provocatively and kissed my cheek as he kept me pinned against the boxes. I looked to Dale and panicked. I didn't want to die, not yet. He pointed his gun toward my head. He was ready to shoot. Was this it? Was I going to die?

"Come on, just let her go." Dale tried to reason with the man. My body trembled in fear. I needed to do something or I was dead. Remember your lessons, Maya.

I quickly turned and kicked him in the leg and used the palm of my hand to break his nose, just as I had learned in self-defense class. As he started to fall in pain I snatched his gun and held it at his head. Dale grabbed his arm and put him in cuffs.

"I underestimated you." Dale smirked.

Ben had me in every self-defense class he could when I first came to live with him. I was a pro by the last class.

I ran away from Dale before he could stop me. I had to get to Karen.

"Maya!" Dale whispered out to me.

I popped out the gun's magazine. It was fully loaded, and one in the chamber. I kept my calm and moved on, my gun ready to fire. The lessons from Ben at the gun range came back to me, his words in the back of my mind. Aim true and keep steady. If you have to shoot, don't go for the kill shot.

When I found the boat I quickly jumped in and kept my gun drawn. I searched for Karen on the top deck and looked around for anyone guarding her. I was alone and went down to the sleeping quarters to continue my search. There was no power so I made my way around with the light from my phone.

I looked down at the ground and saw bloody handprints leading up to a small cabinet. I slowly opened it, as Karen scurried back farther into a corner crying.

"Karen it's Maya, you're alright now."

She ran into my arms. "She told me you'd save me."

I looked at her confused as I tried to find something to open the lock on the chains. Her pants were stained with blood, her face full of bruises. The men beat her up; they were ruthless, hurting an innocent young girl.

"Who are you talking about?"

She wouldn't answer me. I finally found a small nail in one of the boxes that I could use to pick the lock.

We listened and waited for anybody else to come. We made our way out to the top of the boat, but something hard struck my head, making me fall back down the stairs. The sharp edge of a cabinet pierced my arm, opening up a bloody gash. Karen tried to get me up, but I was disoriented. My head pounded and all I could hear was the ringing in my ears. I put my hands up when I realized my gun and phone were kicked away, flying under the bench behind me.

"Stand up," the man whispered.

I couldn't move. My leg twisted in the fall and I was unsteady. "I said stand up!" His voice grew louder.

The man grabbed my arm hard and pulled me to my feet. I used the countertop to hold myself up. Karen ran and tugged onto my side.

"It's over; let us go," I demanded.

The man laughed nervously. He paced back and forth, constantly looking behind him in case someone came up. "Just be quiet while I figure this out."

"Damien! Come out, we know you're up there!" Dale's voice called out from down below.

Damien was not going to go down without a fight. "No!" His anger grew. Damien slapped me across the face. "How'd you know she was here?"

"How did you know? Your brother moved her and made sure you didn't find out."

"He didn't trust me! I had it all under control! Until you told him I killed that woman and took that little girl. I just sold her off to those men."

"Sold her off? What do you mean?"

"Do you know how much a virgin her age sells for? She's worth more than any coke deal. You ruined me!"

"You didn't have to do any of this, but you did. Your brother was just trying to protect you." I took a step toward him, realizing he was crying. The gun in his hand shook with fear.

"Don't come any closer!" I put my hands up again and tried to show I wasn't going to do anything.

"Girl, come here!" His voice was menacing. Karen cringed and held onto me tighter.

"You're not going to take her." I was forceful.

He grabbed for Karen. I blocked him out of the way when I heard a crack, the bullet crippling my body instantly. I fell to the ground as he reached for her, but she bit him in the hand and took off running.

My chance was now. With what little strength I had in me I stretched my good arm out, grabbing the gun and cocked it. Don't go for the kill shot. Arm and knee, bring your opponent down. I shot him once in his right arm and hesitated, waiting for him to drop the gun. I kept my body and hand from shaking, trying to hold back the pain coming from my chest. His good hand rose, ready to take the gun from his wounded hand, but I shot him in his left kneecap first. The gun kicked my wrist back again, causing my whole body to vibrate. I had shot him with precise aim, just as Ben taught me. He dropped his gun this time and fell to the floor, screaming as he held onto his knee.

"You bitch!" Damien rocked his body back and forth, the pain undoubtedly excruciating.

"Dale!" I hoped I yelled loud enough for him to hear, my voice echoing in my ringing ears. I kept the gun pointed to Damien.

Dale and the other officers bolted up to us.

"Maya!" Dale looked all over my body, worried. "Did he shoot you?"

I nodded and pointed to my chest. He took out the bullet from the vest and held it up, shaking his head. "We'll have to keep it in a jar for safekeeping," he joked, trying to lighten my seriousness.

Eric and another deputy applied pressure to Damien's wounds and called in an ambulance. Karen slid over and held my hand, her body keeping close proximity to mine for safety.

Dale took off my vest and looked at the swelling already starting to develop where the bullet hit. Luckily I was wearing the vest or I would have been in serious trouble.

"Good aim, by the way." Dale looked at Damien. "Where'd you learn to shoot?"

"Did you forget?" I held my chest, grunting in pain. "Ben." It hurt too much to talk.

"Right, Ben. He taught you well." He helped me lean back.

"She needs the hospital." I pointed toward Karen's bruises and wounds. Dale reached for her, but she wouldn't let go of me. "He's a friend." She shook her head and let Dale pick her up. I watched as she held onto his neck tightly. She was too young and innocent for what she went through. Would she have nightmares after this? Would they change her like it changed me?

Dale

They rushed me in Emergency and started pumping my system with drugs that would help with the pain and swelling. The doctor was sure my ribs were just bruised, but needed to get me into x-ray to make sure. Another nurse came in and started to clean up the blood on my head from the butt of Damien's gun and my arm from the fall against the sharp edge of the cabinet. I couldn't get out of my long-sleeve shirt so she had to cut it down the middle. She kept the undershirt I had on, but it exposed my scars.

"Life on the edge, huh?" she asked.

"I'm just attracted to danger."

"Or danger's attracted to you." She was right. Except it was more than just danger. Something evil was behind it all—the demon who was always hunting me and something good was behind keeping me alive. "We'll take you in now."

They moved me onto the x-ray table, which was quite the challenge. I yelped out, pleading for my body to take in the pain reliever.

The doctor confirmed three of my ribs were bruised. He said it would take several weeks for me to fully heal and I wasn't allowed to do anything major, especially pick up anything heavy. Driving stick would be impossible for at least the first week, and Cobalt would have to wait for his next ride for who knew how long.

A few souls waited for me to give them attention while I impatiently laid in Emergency. They cried in my ears, begging me to help them. The reek of death did havoc to my brain. They're not there. Don't look. They'll go away soon.

One spirit hovered over me, her eyes bloodshot, watching me, tilting her head to the side, waiting for me to react to her. I could feel the older woman's last moment, her last breath–the drug she overmedicated herself with stopped her heart. She knew I could see her, but I wasn't responding. They're not really there, Maya. Keep your eyes closed.

Finally the pain was starting to subside and I could breathe a little easier. The nurse came into the room to show me breathing exercises I would have to do every day. I was an expert at taking orders from Fay; breathing exercises was nothing compared to what I went through after my accident.

"Did you want me to call someone to pick you up?" the nurse asked sweetly.

"I can call someone. Thanks," I said just as Dale walked in. The nurse smiled and left the room.

"Hey, how you feeling?" He walked over and sat at the edge of a chair.

"Like a bowling ball hit my chest. How's Tucker?"

"I'm so sorry. He's doing great. Doctor said about three to six weeks to heal."

"So he's alright? He's not in any pain, is he?" I asked, my guilt taking over my emotions.

"He's good, really. Thank you." His eyes were honest and sincere.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen, but I had to do—"

"It's alright, if it wasn't for you we wouldn't have saved Tucker or Karen. Just listen to me, please. Next time I ask you to stay, stay."

"I hope there's not a next time." I smiled, making him smile back. "Being shot with a vest on isn't something I want to go through again."

"You're right, but there will be a next time, I hope less dramatic, when I reopen Elizabeth's case file."

I stopped breathing. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, but under strict rules. You're not eighteen yet, which means I can't quite hire you. The investigation will have to wait until that time."

"You want me to work for you?"

"If you want, then yes. We have room in the budget to hire you as a consultant. But like I said, there will be rules. You always have to be with an officer. And you're not allowed to carry a gun."

"What? No gun?" I smirked.

"Do you realize what mess I have to clean up over you shooting Damien?" He folded his arms and lifted his eyebrow. Tucker would look just like him when he got older.

"Self-defense. He pulled a gun on me first."

"Don't push your luck. You ready to go? I've already taken care of your bill."

"Wow, thank you—you have no idea what this all means to me. Why are you being so nice? The first time we met you hated me," I reminded him.

"You saved my son and a little girl today. I don't think I can repay you enough for what you did. Thank you."

"There is one more thing you can do."

"What's that?"

"Let Bris go." I was serious.

Dale stood up straight and put his hands on his hips. "Let him go? He shot my son, an officer of the law, and put us through all this mess. I can't let him go." His words were firm.

"Think about it. Would you have done the same thing in desperation? His little girl was kidnapped." I started to cough and held my chest in pain. I really had to stop talking. "Do you want Karen to grow up without a mother and a father? Don't do that to her."

He looked around and back at me. "I'll think about it."

I was hopeful he'd make the right decision. The blanket the nurse placed over my bare shoulders fell and I quickly tried to cover my back. Dale helped me—but stopped; his eyes glaring at the burns. I moved my hand to distract his stare. I wondered what he was thinking—of how ugly they looked.

"Do you need a ride home or is someone coming to get you? Ben?"

I shook my head no, embarrassed of what he just saw. I couldn't call my parents and have them worrying over me with another problem. Dyami could take care of me.

He sighed. "Let's get you home."

Connection

For the next few days I was slumped in Dyami's recliner chair, barely able to move, Dyami, my doctor, promising me he'd keep what happened with Karen and Tucker a secret from Ben and Tanya. I prayed the story wouldn't make news.

I flipped back and forth through the twenty channels Dyami had on his cable TV. Price is Right or Days of Our Lives?

"You need to get satellite, Dyami. This is slowly killing me. I'm resorting to watching Maury now in between commercials. I think the woman who's been on the show fifty times is finally going to find the father of her kids."

"Well, when you're my age, twenty channels and paternity tests will be the highlight of your day too." He got up off his chair and grabbed my medication. It was 9:30 AM—this was my thrill for the day.

"Cobalt didn't seem too thrilled to be leaving you behind," he mentioned. Ben and Tanya had been there earlier picking up their three horses.

"At least he's going home with his buddies. I'll see him soon." I shut the TV off and huddled under the blanket.

"I hope you three make up soon. Your birthday and Christmas are right around the corner. I know they want to be with you to celebrate. It's important for them to be with their daughter." He tried to convince me.

"I'll talk to them soon. I just appreciate you telling them I was still asleep. I'm not quite ready to talk to them."

"I understand." He looked over through the kitchen window. "The sheriff's truck is pulling up the drive."

Dale walked through the front door, Karen in tow. When she saw me she ran up and jumped in my lap. I tried to hide the pain from her.

"She wanted to say goodbye to you before her and her dad left town." When I realized what Dale was saying I sighed with relief. I moved Karen to my side so her weight wasn't on my wound. Dale and Dyami sat at the kitchen table.

"I heard you got hurt real bad. Is it from the bullet that hit you?" Karen's eyes were dark brown with speckles of green around her pupils, just like her mother's. She was clean and looked healthy and happy.

"Yes, but I'm much better now that you came to see me."

"That's good. I need to tell you something." She played with the pull string on my sweatshirt.

"Alright, what is it, sweetie?"

"The girl, she wanted me to tell you something before I left." Karen fiddled with her fingernails.

"Who's that?" I turned my head with curiosity.

"Lizzy. She wanted me to tell you she's waiting for you to find her now. She wasn't before, but now she is. She was scared for you to see the truth, but she's ready now."

I was shocked and wasn't sure what to say. Lizzy was the one who was with her on the boat telling her I would be coming soon to save her. I did see her spirit in front of the boat storage building that night. Dale and Dyami overheard, both confused.

"Did she say anything else?" I wanted to know everything. Where she was, who killed her, where her body would be. Why was she talking to this little girl but not me, after I had begged and begged her spirit?

"She told me about you and how you helped people who needed to be found. She said you were coming to help me, but that's it."

I grabbed Karen and held onto her. Why did Lizzy wait all this time to reach out to me? Why now?

Colin stood in the front doorway of Dyami's holding a bag of chocolate filled cookies. I turned my music off and put my headphones down. Stacey ran in after Colin and hugged me gently. I looked her over, brushing the hair from her face. She was becoming just as beautiful as Lizzy. He handed me the bag of cookies and brought in a few bags of groceries while Stacey and I headed to the living room so I could sit down.

"Thanks for the cookies, I've been craving these." I opened the bag and savored the creamy delight. Dyami had left for North Dakota already and I had sucked through the chocolate chip cookies he had hidden in his "special" drawer the first day.

"There's some dinner stuff in here," Colin pointed to the bags of food he brought. He put a few things in the fridge for me.

"Thank you." I tried to avoid his stare. We hadn't seen each other since my memory returned, but I called to tell him what happened with Karen and Bris, leaving the details out about Tucker. I asked they stop by so I could tell them something about Lizzy's case—a new development.

"Here are the pictures you wanted," Colin handed me the photos of the Mustang he took through its transformation. I was amazed at what a wreck it was, to what he got it looking like. I couldn't believe I was still alive.

"How are you feeling?" Stacey asked.

"Better today." Five brutal days of sitting around Dyami's house, doing nothing, was not what I needed to be doing. I had to get better faster—I had to do something with the new evidence.

"Can I see it?" She went to lift my shirt up, but I stopped her.

"You don't want to see that, trust me. It's pretty ugly," I joked. Blue, purple, yellow, orange, my chest was the color of the rainbow and would give anyone nightmares if they saw it.

"Did it hurt when he shot you?" Stacey asked.

"Yeah, it hurt, pretty bad, but I would have been in big trouble if I wasn't wearing the vest."

"I'm sure! So, what do you want to talk about?" She grabbed my pillow and snuggled up to it.

I breathed in deep. Here we go. The white business card stuck out of my journal. I had a name, a date. All I needed was a why.

"You guys know me. You know strange things happen around me, like objects moving, and you know I see spirits too, right?" They both nodded their heads yes. "Then you'll believe me when I show you something." They nodded again.

"I woke up last night." At 11:11 PM, again, from my nightmare. "My journal was wide open on the floor, and this was inside. Colin..."—I looked to him—"you've been through my journal personally, and this was not in there. It suddenly just appeared. I think it has to do with Lizzy."

I handed the business card to Colin. He flipped it over, studying both sides carefully. He stood up. "This appointment was the day before she died."

"What? What's going on?" Stacey grabbed for the card and looked it over. She dropped it on the floor, her eyes wide with terror. "No!" She fled the living room and out the front door.

Colin went after her while I slowly made my way outside. "Stacey!" he yelled from the yard. I wrapped my arms tight in my sweater, stumbling down the stairs, my body still weak. He grabbed my hand to help me steady in the snow. "Where'd she go?" He searched the yard.

"Look." I pointed to the open barn door. We walked inside and found Stacey on top of a pile of hay, sobbing louder when she saw us.

"She's dead because of me!" she screamed, snot running down her nose. I moved her hair to reveal her face. She shied away from me and buried her face deeper in her arm.

"What's going on, Stacey? Tell me honey." I made her look at me. "What do you mean she's dead because of you?"

"I can't tell you! I promised her I wouldn't tell you!" she cried out.

Colin pulled her up so she couldn't hide her face anymore. "Stacey, you tell us right now what the hell is going on!" he yelled, only making her cry even louder.

"Stacey, please, tell me. Why did Lizzy see a lawyer the day before she died?"

"She...she...she." Stacey couldn't breathe. I wiped her tears away with my sleeve. "She went to the lawyer because she wanted to save me."

"Save you from what?"

"The neighbor. The neighbor next to Claire and Don. He...he..."

I waited for her to finish. Then it came to me. My knees sunk to the floor. No, not Stacey, not her. Why her?

I could see her going over to the old man's house; he invited her in for candy. He touched her, all over, she was too young. Too young and it happened too many times. I couldn't breathe. I stood up, holding my chest.

"No, Stacey, no." I started to cry.

"What's going on?" Colin didn't know his baby sister had been molested by the dirty old man living next door to his sisters while he was gone in California.

How did I not see this? How could Lizzy keep this from me?

"Why didn't you tell me?" I held her head up, my tears falling into hers. "Why didn't you...why didn't she?" I held my head. Why couldn't I see it then? "Why didn't she tell Ben? He would have..." I tried to breathe.

Colin stood up, shaking his head. He circled the barn, the fire growing inside; his tears turned to hatred. He knew what happened now. He screamed, his body shaking, the tears falling. I watched as he turned to his little sister and reached out to her, pulling her into him. He held her as they sobbed together.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you." Their sobs were quiet, but long and constant. I sat down on the hay pile, holding my insides. My entire body was slush.

Lizzy saw a lawyer, a Mr. Frankfurt, the day before she died. She was filing for emancipation. She didn't want Colin coming home—his boxing career would be thrown down the drain if she told him the truth. She knew he'd drop everything for his sisters, so she had to do what she did on her own.

Why wouldn't she tell me? She knew Ben would have done everything he could to protect them.

I had finally stopped crying. Colin held me, gently, while we stood on the front porch steps. Stacey was asleep in his truck; the sun had been down for hours. All three of us were exhausted from crying. We had spent all afternoon holding each other.

"I'm going to tell Dale everything. He'll help me."

"Make sure he pays." Colin held my hand.

"I will." I nodded.

"You don't know how bad I want to go kill him." His hands squeezed mine even tighter.

"I know. Let me handle it. I promise you I'll do all I can."

"I know you will." He lifted my shirt and looked at the bruise, the porch light making it look more yellow than it really was. His fingers touched my side as he let my shirt fall back down. "Typical Maya, always running into the battle instead of away from it." He smirked, the whites of his eyes still red from crying. He kissed my cheek, leaning into my lips. His blue eyes begged for me to kiss him.

"Go." I nodded to his truck, taking a step back from him. "Get her to bed."

Go, before I let myself give in to you again.

Mr. Frankfurt

Dale's sheriff's truck hummed on the highway. His hands gripped the steering wheel tight. He tried to figure out a way to explain everything.

"Just tell me." I so badly needed him to. I had been waiting a whole three days to find out.

"We didn't find her body. He had some child pornography in his bedroom, but nothing else was found."

The neighbor who molested Stacey wasn't Lizzy's killer. My heart sank.

"I see." I was disappointed. Another dead end. How I hoped he was her killer. Deep down I knew it wasn't him—he was too old to be the one who ran me off the road. The shadow man was younger, fit, wanted the challenge of a fighting girl like myself and Lizzy. In my nightmare he took pleasure of hearing me scream.

"I'm sorry, Maya. I really thought we had him." He sighed.

"Don't be sorry. So, what did you do with him? I'm sure you arrested him?" I promised Colin he'd pay.

"Yes. We'll get him for the underage pornographic material and if Stacey files a report against him, we can get him on child molestation."

"Thank you, Dale. I'm glad you're on my side." I smiled.

"Thank me later, after we get the guy who killed Lizzy."

Beep beep. Another text message from Tucker. I quickly opened it.

Good luck today with Frankfurt. Hope you're feeling better. Hope to see you soon?

I replied back, smiling. Dale noticed.

"How can you text so fast?" He laughed.

"Practice," I joked. "Tucker says good luck and hopes we find something on Frankfurt." I typed I'd come see him soon. We had been texting nonstop for a few days—my heart skipping to the sound of my phone buzzing each time. I told him everything about Lizzy coming to Karen and about finding the business card. I so badly wanted to hear his cowboy voice and see him.

"He's probably bored sitting at the doctor's right now. He's going to find out if he still needs crutches or if he can walk on the leg."

"Wow, he seems to be healing pretty fast. I'm glad it wasn't more serious."

"Me too. I need him to help you with Lizzy's case. I have a lot of things on my plate right now. He said he's excited to get back to work and help you."

"Oh, cool." I tried not to sound too excited myself. Inside I was jumping up and down. Tucker and I—a team. I liked the sound of that.

"I know we agreed we'd wait until after you turned eighteen, but with this recent discovery, I guess we'll just have to get started now. When we go in there let me do all the talking. If he asks why you're there, I'll tell him you're getting training for when I do hire you as a consultant."

"Whatever you say boss." We laughed.

The lawyer's office was one of the first buildings to be renovated during the town's expansion project a few years before. The Coffee House station played in the background; the older plump secretary whined along to the song while we waited for our appointment. Dale and I snickered as the woman's voice was completely out of tune.

After waiting twenty minutes Mr. Frankfurt walked out, buttoning the top of his black suit. The mayor followed him out, shaking hands.

"We'll take a look at that new proposal next week," Mayor Ward said.

"I look forward to getting the loose ends buttoned up." The lawyer smiled.

"Sheriff." The mayor shook Dale's hand. "Ms. Colebrook, it's so nice to see you again." That slimy smile again as he looked at me up and down. "Sorry I took up so much of his time. We had legal matters to discuss." He grinned. "He's all yours!" I watched him walk out the front door, waving to me as he went. Yuck.

Mr. Frankfurt turned to us. "Dale, it's nice to see you." They shook hands. "And the famous psychic from Caldwell! Maya, is that right?"

"Yes." I looked him over, but didn't get any visions.

"How can I help you two?" He led us into his office and closed the door. His secretary scooted her rolling chair closer to hear our conversation.

He looked in his forties with brown hair and green eyes. He was arrogant and as he smiled, he showed his teeth, all perfectly whitened and straight. His brand new BMW was parked out front, and his suit looked custom fitted. His gold watch was probably worth more than my classic Mustang. A businessman with one motive: money.

Dale showed him the card I found in my journal with his name, information, and the time—3:00 PM written on the back. "You met with a young girl, Elizabeth Larson, on this date a little over a year ago."

Mr. Frankfurt examined the business card and smiled, "I do remember—Elizabeth, Lizzy is what they called her. She's that missing girl?"

"Yes. What did she need your services for?" Dale folded his hands in his lap.

"I really can't recall." Frankfurt leaned back against his leather seat. His eyes twitched. He was lying.

"She met with you the day before she disappeared. Her sister said you were assisting her with a petition for emancipation," Dale reminded him.

"Well, now that you said that, yes, I remember. She called in and made the appointment, but she never made it." He was lying again. He did see her before she was murdered.

I focused on a photograph of him, his wife, and daughter sitting on a shelf behind him. He was younger and a little thinner then. A letter of congratulations from the developer of the highway was framed to the left of me, signed C.B. I tried to read it, but couldn't see without him realizing.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Frankfurt." They shook hands as I dropped my scarf under the desk. When we left I looked at Mr. Frankfurt one last time in the eyes. Something dark hid behind his smile.

"So, she didn't make the appointment." Dale was as curious as I was.

"He was lying. His eyes twitched when he said she never came that day. He met with her, I know he did." I got goosebumps and started to fidget. I was onto a lead and I wasn't going to stop until I had all the answers.

"He's a lawyer. Good luck getting anything out of him."

"You're right, but first I need to get my scarf I dropped back in his office. After he leaves." I looked over at him as he smiled and shook his head.

"You're good, really, I'm impressed. Have you ever thought of law enforcement?" he teased. We got back in his car and waited.

After two hours Mr. Frankfurt finally got in his gray sport car and sped away. The secretary was still there so we were able to execute my plan.

"Hello there." Dale startled the woman.

She sneezed, wiping her nose with a tissue. "Oh—you were just here, weren't you? Mr. Frankfurt just stepped out."

"I think I dropped my scarf in his office earlier. If you don't mind, I'm just going to grab it." Before I could get to his door the woman stood up and offered to get it for me. I tried to stop her, but she refused to let me get it.

I had to think fast. "Mr. Frankfurt has such a beautiful family." I snatched the picture I saw earlier from his shelf. I could see what I needed to and tried to be conspicuous about it. The woman looked up at the picture and shook her head as she handed me the scarf back.

"Yes, well we don't see them anymore. His wife moved her and their daughter away a long time ago when they started having marital problems. It's such a shame. His wife is such a heartbreaker. Unfortunately sometimes couples just don't work things out." The woman was giving me more than I expected to get.

"They seem so happy in the picture. I wonder what happened?" I sweet-talked her into giving me more.

"I shouldn't be telling you this, but he caught her cheating on him with another man. What an awful person to cheat on someone, especially Mr. Frankfurt. He is such a kind man." She started to waddle back to her desk with her flats, which were much too small for her fat feet.

"Where did his family move to?" Dale asked while I looked at the letter from the developer.

"Somewhere upstate New York—well, that was the last place I heard she moved to. The daughter's older now and attends school in California. She won't even come see her father because that awful woman brainwashed her." She hefted her purse from the floor, panting from her short walk, and grabbed another tissue.

"That's a shame. I hate to hear things like that especially with such a good person. He helped with the highway, didn't he?" I pried some more.

"Oh yes, he was the one who wrote the agreement for the city and the developer. I believe he invested some money in the project as well." She kept the info coming.

"Interesting." I smiled. "I actually wanted to ask you something. Do you remember that girl, Elizabeth Larson, who went missing a little over a year ago?" The woman nodded yes. "Did she act strange or off to you when she came in to meet Mr. Frankfurt?"

"Elizabeth never showed to her appointment. I remember calling her and leaving her a message asking if she was running late, but she never called me back." The woman was telling the truth.

"Did she come in any other time to meet with Mr. Frankfurt?" I asked.

"Yes, she came in several times in June I believe. She was signing paperwork with Mr. Frankfurt. I believe she was trying to get emancipated." The woman took out her old schedule book from the year before. "Oh, yes, see? She came in June 5th and June 10th. I'm not sure what they discussed, client confidentiality." She smiled.

"Right. Thank you so much for getting my scarf." We said goodbye.

"You're a good talker, did you know that?" Dale opened the passenger door for me. I loved his enthusiasm.

"So?"

"First of all, his wife wasn't the one who cheated, he was. She caught him with the daughter's babysitter."

"For some reason I'm not surprised. Frankfurt is a ladies' man. I always see him at events with a new woman on his arm. Do you think he had anything to do with Lizzy's murder?" He looked over at me.

"I don't know yet."

"If you think he's involved, we need to do some more research on him. Maybe he has a funky past if he was caught with the babysitter."

"True. The fact he didn't tell us he met her twice makes me even more suspicious. Seems odd he didn't mention that."

"If what his secretary said was true, then he was keeping client confidentiality. We don't have a warrant for her file, and to most people she's just a missing girl, not a dead girl." Dale was right.

I nodded my head in agreement. "Tell me what you know about the developer of the highway. I did some research and found out he asked to stay anonymous. What's that about?"

"I'm not sure who the developer was either," Dale started to say. "Tucker told me you were doing some research on the highway when you first came back. I'm sure you're not happy with me about it."

I agreed with him. "You're right. I was extremely mad. Look at the town now. There's so much more prostitution and bums begging on the street corner. You opened a big can of worms by supporting it."

"You're right. I persuaded a lot of people to back up the project. I thought it would be a good thing for this town," he confessed.

"And what about now?" I asked.

"Now, I'm not too sure. I wasn't told the truth of the development. I was told it was only going to create a new highway for the trucks to go in and out from the mine." He sighed and rubbed his head. "A lot of people don't like me right now over it. I doubt I'll be reelected." He turned to go up the drive to Dyami's house.

"The damage has been done, but you can fix it. You can get people to trust you again; you just have to admit to your mistake. Make it right again."

"And how does a seventeen-year-old know so much about life?" He chuckled.

"I don't. I just know how to follow my heart."

Tamales

Tucker lived in an older thirties bungalow off Ash Street with a hanging swing to the left of the door. Flowerboxes lined the stairway—I wondered what he grew in the spring.

Tucker hobbled over to the front door and opened it. His shirt had an eagle with flames and a country band's logo across the chest. I was relieved to see his cowboy brown and orange eyes sparkle again.

I held up a fresh bag of tamales from the market and he smiled. He opened the door a little more and let me inside. "How's my hero?"

He was excited to see me. "I'm great. I didn't mean to just show up, but I figured you needed some dinner...hope that's alright?"

"Wow, for sure, thanks so much. I meant to call you after you and my dad got back from Frankfurt's, but I was a little occupied." He laughed and pointed to his leg. His home was tidy and clean and smelled like the lavender air freshener from the station.

"Don't even worry. How are you—your leg? What did the doctor say?" I stumbled on my words, trying to keep it cool. It was hard for him to get around on the crutches. He toppled over on the couch to sit down.

"I guess I'm doing a lot better. Doc says I'll be back at work in no time, just need to heal completely before I can chase after any bad guys again. He's scheduling me for physical therapy a couple times a week. I had my first one yesterday."

"Oh, good old P.T.," I joked. "Wait until they get you doing the bicycle motions."

"Great. I hear they're torture." He shook his head.

"Just you wait." I laughed. "I was in physical therapy for ten months after my accident. It's pretty brutal, not going to lie."

"Ten months? Wow, you really got messed up, huh? Is that how you got all your scars?"

He did notice. Most of my scars were larger than three inches long. Of course he noticed. My heart pounded.

"Yeah, most of them. My windshield broke; there was a lot of glass." I shuffled my feet and got even more nervous. "They had to reconstruct my left knee—twice. I think that was more painful than my collarbone breaking." Stop talking, Maya, he'll think you're damaged.

"Wow—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up. I don't really know anything about you." He was embarrassed and shook his head. "That was dumb of me."

"No, don't be sorry. They're kind of hard to miss." Especially the burns on my back I was thankful he didn't ask about.

"How are the ribs?"

"I'm healing, slowly. This is the first day I've been able to drive. I can't ride Cobalt for a while, though."

"Oh yeah, I hear Dyami is still in North Dakota?" He got more comfortable in his leather couch.

"He called me today and said he was going to take a detour through Colorado. Guess he wants to do a little sightseeing. In the wintertime." I emphasized winter. What was Dyami doing?

"Right, makes sense," he said sarcastically. "Dyami's retired and is on his own schedule. He's the outdoor kind of guy so he's probably just exploring."

"Very true," I agreed. "So, I just wanted to come by and tell you in person I'm sorry about your leg. I'm happy it wasn't worse than it is." I could feel my face getting red.

"Thanks, that means a lot coming from my hero. I'm happy you were there." He grinned.

"Don't say thank you. Because of me, Bris shot you." Did he forget?

He sat up on the couch. "You can't blame yourself for what others do. You saved me and that little girl. My dad told me all you did to protect Karen. He says you have impeccable aim."

I was embarrassed, wondering what Dale told him, but then again I was glad Tucker knew I wasn't the type of person to just sit around.

I nervously laughed, "Yeah, well, Damien had it coming to him. I know I couldn't control what happened to you, but I'm still sorry." Nerves hit me again. "Alright, I guess I'll see you later. Let me know if you need anything, now that I'm more mobile than you."

"Hold on. Is there enough food for two in here?" He raised the bag of tamales.

"Well, enough for leftovers. I wasn't sure if you lived alone, I didn't want it to be awkward only bringing food for one." This was already awkward. What was I doing? What if he had a girlfriend or even a wife and I just showed up with food? No more distractions, Maya. I needed to leave.

"Yeah, I live alone, but you didn't really answer my question," he said playfully.

"Yes, there's enough." I giggled.

"Would you like to stay? I was thinking of putting a funny movie on." He sat up, waiting for me to answer. "I hear these tamales are the best." He raised his eyebrows and motioned for me to sit down.

"Alright." I couldn't stop myself. He was tempting me with his smile. "As long as I get to sit in this awesome chair." I pointed to the oversized leather seat that took up most of the living room. The "man chair," he called it.

The food was great, and we both were enjoying each other's company. He got my mind off Frankfurt and Lizzy's case, which I felt guilty for doing, but I needed a break, and Tucker was making me happier than I had been in a long time. I found myself relaxing while we started to learn about one another. Pictures of him with his family were hanging everywhere on his mantel and walls. He looked happy and I liked to see he grew up in a good home. There were no pictures of him with a girlfriend—a bonus to our friendship. I wouldn't have to worry about a girl being jealous I was talking to him...or flirting.

The movie ended and he turned the lights back on. I stood up and stretched my legs out and he did the same, yawning while he did. He looked tired and excused himself so he could use the bathroom and hobbled over to it.

A picture of him with his mom when he was a young kid was on his side table. I picked it up and smiled at his baby-face. He was just as cute then as he was now. A glimpse of that day through Tucker's eyes was intimate; he and his mother were very close. Something tragic happened to her and she died in a lot of pain. I could feel her in the hospital with IVs, the heart monitor beeping, and nurses constantly going in and out of her room. Tucker was just a boy when she died.

The bathroom door creaked open as I dropped the picture to the floor. I quickly picked it up. I was beyond embarrassed he saw the whole thing. Tucker looked at it and smiled.

"That's my mom." I didn't want to interrupt and tell him I knew. "She died when I was seven from ovarian cancer." I looked down at the picture again. I felt sorry for him, losing someone he cared about so tragically.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I like looking at pictures; it's how I get to know who people are." We looked at each other and he nodded.

"It's alright; I don't mind. She was a veterinarian—which is how my parents first met. My dad brought one of his horses in for a checkup and she was an assistant at the time while she was going to school. They started dating and ended up getting married a few years later." He picked up another picture of just his parents. Dale had his arm around her; they stood on a beach. "My dad's never been the same since we lost her."

"I can imagine. I know how hard it is to lose someone you love." I tried to console him.

He hung the picture of his parents back on the wall. "He's been so despondent and angry over the years. It's like he will never forgive God for taking her away."

"He'll probably feel like that for a long time." I hoped he knew I felt the same when Lizzy was taken from me. "I don't know if you ever really get over something like that."

"Did you see anything when you touched the picture? Like you did with Karen?"

If I told him I could see her suffering in the hospital, it would just bring back bad memories. "I don't always see things, but I could feel it was a happy moment between you two." He smiled. His eyes were drawing me in, weakening the concrete wall I built around myself from Colin.

His watch beeped—it was 10:00 PM already. "It's getting late; I should go." I walked over to the chair and got my jacket to leave. I couldn't have this conversation with him; he would think I was a freak.

"Wait. Why don't you stay? I can put another movie on." He reached to stop me from going out the door. I wanted so badly to stay, but I couldn't. I couldn't ruin what was good between us.

"I really have to go. I have to be up early. I'm sorry."

He looked disappointed. "Alright. I was going to call you this week and ask if you'd bring by Lizzy's file from the office. I'd like to start getting to know more about her too, so anything else you want to bring me would be great."

"I will, and that's actually kind of why I stopped by, besides to apologize."

"Alright, what do you need?" He leaned against his couch.

"Do you think, when you're better of course, you could go with me somewhere?" I kept my head down, afraid to ask. "I've wanted to go back to where I was run off the road, where my accident happened. I don't really want to go alone." I didn't tell him I actually wanted to go down the dirt road I hoped I could still find. "I was going to go with Dyami, but that's not going to happen for a while."

"Of course I'll go with you. I'd like to get out of the house and take a drive. My doctor says I should be off crutches this week, so how about in a couple days we go? You drive."

"Alright, that sounds great." I was happy he agreed.

"Text me, so I know you got home okay?"

"Of course."

We said goodnight, even though I really didn't want to leave. He watched me from the window to make sure I got to my car alright. I waved to him through the fog in my windows as I drove away.

Dyami's house was cold while I waited for the fire to warm my bedroom. I sat up in bed, the chill of the night keeping me awake while I recollected my time with Tucker—his brown eyes, deep and thick like a wooded forest. I wanted his story, where he was headed—what he wanted in life. There was a mystery about him—something he kept sacred. Did he have a secret? Surely everyone had a secret in one form or another—what was his? Would he tell me one day?

My phone buzzed.

Thanks for the tamales. I finished them up after you left. See you in a couple days. Can't wait.

I lay my head down on my soft pillow, my eyes heavy. Tucker, not Colin, was there next to me, sleeping, peaceful, like the rays of sun emerging through the clouds after a storm. His chest rising with each breath, back down again, then up. When he woke his smile lightened my heart—the load I carried was now becoming lighter with his help. Colin had never made me feel this way, but Tucker, on the other hand, was my sunrise cowboy.

The Demon in My Dream

Fifteen Years Old

June 19, 2003

A man stood watch outside Ms. Sader's home behind a tree across the street. The moon hid behind a cloud, keeping the stranger's face hidden. His entire body was engulfed in flames, staring up at me, smiling. I watched him for some time while Lizzy and Stacey slept. At first I thought it was a dream, my mind elsewhere, but this was no dream. He was real.

The man called to me. "Maya, come here," he whispered. How could I hear him from so far away? "Come here, Maya." His voice hissing for me.

I floated down the stairs, to the front door, which swung open on its own. Did I open it with my mind? As I approached him, my body lifted off the ground; I didn't have control over myself anymore. The man grinned—his face becoming like a shadow—disappearing slowly into darkness. The glow from his body making my eyes strain. My pajamas flapped in the wind as I rose in the sky higher, higher, higher. When I looked down I saw my body, standing in front of the man. My soul was outside my body, watching the scene below.

He tried reaching toward me, my soul too far from him. He no longer smiled—his nostrils spreading wide while he breathed deep—in and out; the very breath from his body as hot as the fire surrounding him. Two large horns grew from his head like spikes and his skin became scaly like a dragon.

He sneered, "You're next." The man grabbed my wrist, my soul trying to fight him off my body below, but I couldn't get back down to save myself. My body stood there, motionless, letting the man torture me.

"He's coming for you." The man said as he looked up to my soul again. "You can't hide forever. Mortem Venit!"

Lizzy shook me. I was standing in the street, the crisp air still from the night. She shook me harder until I blinked, coming back to reality. The man was gone—no fire, no heat, just Lizzy, scared. "I tried to wake you—you were sleep walking," she whispered. "Come on; let's go back inside before Ms. Sader sees you. She'll think you're really crazy if she sees you out here like this."

My wrist ached as she tugged on me to follow her inside the house. "Ouch." I looked down.

"Oh my God, Maya, what happened?" She examined the burn closer in the dark. "Who did this to you?" She looked around the neighborhood. A dog barked from the street behind us from our commotion.

"I don't know, I don't remember." I turned around and looked back to the tree where I saw the man standing.

"Come on, let's get some ointment on it." She closed the door behind us as I saw a flash of fire from beyond the neighbor's yard.

I wasn't crazy. I was being hunted—by a demon in my dreams. The same dreams I had been having since I was twelve. Though this time, he was real. His hot breath reached up to my soul as I hid from him. He wanted my soul, but why the soul of a young girl? What would he want with me?

Drug Dealer

Tucker flipped through the pages of Lizzy's file while I pulled onto Culler Highway. Flashes of my accident impeded my thoughts. Thirty more minutes, I said to myself.

"Lizzy went missing, I mean was murdered, the end of your sophomore year, right?" A piece of Tucker's long hair fell down in his eyes as he put it back in place.

"Yes—in July," I clarified.

"Did she like school? Was she good at it?"

"Yes and no. Lizzy was a rebel and didn't like authority. Teachers had a hard time with her, but she was smart, no doubt, just a little hotheaded."

"So the neighbor who molested Stacey is out as a suspect, right? My dad said they couldn't find any evidence that he hurt Lizzy too."

"He didn't kill Lizzy. He was just a dirty old man who liked little girls."

"Yeah, well my dad's going to make sure that bastard pays and spends the rest of his life in jail. I'm sorry about what he did to her. Just makes you wonder, doesn't it?" He shook his head.

"There are a lot of sick people out there."

Tucker agreed. "Don't they have an older brother? Why didn't he take them in?"

"Yes—Colin. He was in California pursuing a boxing career. I think Lizzy didn't want to tell him because she knew he would have quit his dream and come back to take care of them. She didn't like people worrying over her, which is why I didn't know about Stacey and the emancipation."

"Gotcha. Where's their brother now? Is he still around?" he asked.

"Yes. He lives out on Coal Mine Road."

"Is he a suspect?"

"No, not Colin. He loves his sisters. He felt bad not being there when Lizzy was murdered, which is why he quit boxing altogether. Back in school I think he beat up like five guys for trying to hit on Lizzy." I smiled. "He was definitely protective of his little sisters." And me, but I couldn't tell Tucker about Colin and I.

"Lizzy was a pretty girl. I'm sure he had to beat up more guys than that." He chuckled and I agreed. "And Lizzy's foster parents? Their interview was the most detailed."

"Ben wasn't too sure about Don at the beginning, but I never got a bad feeling about them."

"I've been thinking a lot about this Mr. Frankfurt guy. He was cheating on his wife with the babysitter, right?" I nodded. "What if he and Lizzy—"

I interrupted him. "No way—Lizzy? No, she wouldn't have been involved with an older man. She just went to him to file the papers to get emancipated."

"Okay, you knew her best." He smiled. "How much was he charging her?"

"I'm not sure what you mean." I was confused.

"You said he was a fancy guy with expensive things. He had to have charged her. Did you guys ask how much?"

Tucker was on to something and I was mad at myself for not thinking of this earlier. I doubted Mr. Frankfurt worked pro-bono for anyone. Unless, he liked her; she was a pretty girl.

"Wait." I pulled over to the gas station and hotel on the side of the highway just outside Caldwell. "Tucker, you're brilliant!"

"Thanks, mind telling me why?" he joked.

"In my dream I told you about, I met with the man who ended up killing me, but before that we did a drug deal. I remember counting the money in the envelope, and wanting to run away with it. I kept saying to myself I was willing to risk it all." I looked to Tucker, who sat in silence thinking.

"That makes sense. You said the dream was like a vision you were getting from Lizzy, right?" I nodded. "Then what if she was dealing drugs? That's a quick way to make money."

"And she was in a hurry. Mr. Frankfurt would have wanted the money before he filed the petition." My heart raced. How could my best friend keep something like this from me? If she needed the money, I would have helped her.

"You should fill up. Looks like you're low." Tucker noticed my gas gauge. "Pull up and let's get you some gas." The old gas station was just twenty minutes from the dirt road. I sighed; another delay, but I was happy he noticed since we could have run out of gas. I was way too distracted.

Tucker hobbled out of the Mustang.

"Don't you need your crutches?" I yelled to him.

"I'm good." He smirked and limped to fill the tank. I shook my head. He did need his crutches; he was just pushing himself like I did with my therapy. I got out for fresh air and looked around, noticing a small sign in front of the hotel along the highway:

HOTEL CLOSED FOR RENOVATION

I turned to look at the building. It was falling apart from years of neglect and the windows were all boarded up for the winter. A sudden rush of dread took over my mind. I remembered this hotel the night the shadow man almost killed me. It was under renovation then too. Evil lurked in the darkness of this hotel. Perhaps an evil spirit lingered inside.

Something caught my eye behind the construction fence blocking access into the hotel. I tried to look through, but I couldn't find a hole in the fence big enough to see anything. A chain around an access door kept any outsiders from breaking in. I walked over to it and jiggled the handle. I could get my hand through, but the chain was locked.

Before I could get my hand away from the lock a purplish bare arm appeared through the opening, within reach of my chest. I fell back into the snow, my heart stopping. It was a girl's arm flailing out to me. Was I imagining this?

"Help me!" the girl whispered. My body was frozen and the arm disappeared.

"Get back here, girl!" a man's voice yelled out from behind the fence. I quickly stood up, running to the opening, and peered through. A girl, only wearing a leather skirt and bra, was being dragged inside the hotel against her will.

I walked backward, slipping again in the snow, my eyes wide with fear as a river of blood poured from the windows on the top story, the boards surrounding them blasting onto the ground below. I raced back to my car, my body trembling. Where was Tucker? I searched for him as I ran inside the store.

"$32.68," the man at the register barked to Tucker, who handed him two twenties. He was in his thirties and had a thick Southern drawl. The man handed Tucker his change and slammed the cash register closed.

"Thanks." Tucker turned and looked to me, his smile slowly fading when he saw my face.

"Can we get a room?" I asked the grimy man behind the counter. I was out of breath. He spit his chewing tobacco in a paper cup and raised his eyebrow.

"Can't you read? Hotel's closed." He pointed to the sign out front.

I laughed and shook my head. "It's been closed for a year. Shouldn't you be done?"

The burly man came out from behind the counter. Tucker stood in front of me to block the man as he approached us.

"Takes time and money and as you can see—we don't get much traffic around 'ere. I'm doin' all the work myself. Now git—so I can start workin' again." The man flung his hand up at us to leave his store.

"When will you be done?" I wasn't going to stop.

"I said git before I's make you git!" The man got closer, his unpleasant stench overpowering my senses.

Tucker pushed me back. "Get in the car," he ordered. I shut up and slowly got in the driver side while Tucker handed me the keys. "Just drive, keep going until we're far enough away, got it?"

I nodded as we both turned to see the owner watching us from outside the store.

I kept going, both of us silent, until Tucker had me pull over at a turnoff five miles down from the gas station. I shut the car off and put my head in my hands.

"Tucker, we have to go back. We have to save that girl!" A vision was coming to me. There wasn't just one girl inside the torn down hotel.

"Maya, stop, look at me." His hand reached over to my arms and turned my head with a soft nudge so I'd look at him. "You need to breathe." His words were soothing as I calmed myself. His cold hand touched my cheek. I took several deep breaths. "What happened back there?"

"The hotel. Something's wrong." I panicked. "You need to go in there; you need to stop what they're doing to those girls!"

"Shh, Maya, it's alright, just stay calm." He pulled out his cell phone.

I couldn't sit still; my hands and body were wild. I rocked myself in my seat, imagining the girls being beaten, raped, abused day and night by strange men coming and going. They were slaves. I needed to go back.

"He's keeping them there, locked in their room for days. He brings men and forces them to have sex. You have to stop it. I can feel their pain right now, you have to make it stop," I pleaded.

"Alright, just take a deep breath." He dialed his dad's number. "How many girls do you think are in there?"

I thought for a minute and remembered the blood flowing out of the windows on the top floor. Three windows, three rooms. "Three girls."

"Dad, I need you down here. Bring backup."

Suicide by Cop

The burly gas station owner swore at us from behind the squad car glass. "You'll pay for this!" he sneered at me. Eric stood watch with another deputy and waited as Dale and the others rushed inside the hotel.

Multiple gunshots went off from inside and three more deputies rushed over to the hotel. Eric held me back as we waited with the owner.

"I need to go in there," I demanded Eric to let me go.

"Maya, stop." He reached for my hand and pulled me back before I could escape.

"Tucker, what's going on?" Eric radioed in.

"It's clear, we're all good in here. Suspects are down and we're calling for an ambulance." Tucker radioed back in from the front steps, his crutches still in my car. He pretended he was alright to go in with Dale, but I knew he wasn't.

"Let me go in—please, Eric—you don't understand."

He tried to hold me back. "Just wait a minute!" I got loose and ran up the stairs when Eric stopped me just as I saw the horrific scene. Bullet holes lined the hallway of the hotel—it was a death match. Luckily none of the officers were hurt. The hotel was dark; the only light coming from a lamp in the hall. Everyone was breathing heavily, trying to calm down from the battle that just took place.

Tucker turned to me. "Maya, you can't see this. Go back to your car and wait for us." He was gentle, rubbing his hand on my arm.

"No, I need to see the girls, before their souls are gone. Don't ask me why. Please, Tucker?" I could feel two of the girls were dead along with the three men who were their pimps.

Tucker shielded me from the bloody scene, but I was relentless. He sighed and looked over to his dad, who motioned I could come through.

The first girl lay on the bed with a gun wound to her stomach. An officer had just finished trying to give her CPR, but they knew it was no use—she died instantly. She was beautiful with long blond hair that stirred gently from the broken window where one of the bullets went through. Her body was full of bruises from the rapists who abused her. Blood dripped from her mouth like a leaky faucet.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

One high heel was on the bed, the other on the floor and she was wearing nothing but a spaghetti strap nightshirt and stockings.

I shook my hand, ready for her pain to transfer into my body. Her skin was still warm. The demon from my nightmares, the one I saw when we rescued Sam, the one who burned my wrist, flashed into my head, forcing me back against the wall. Tucker was there to help me back up. I felt her soul leave her tormented body. The demon was sending me a message—letting me know he was behind this.

"Her name is Sarah Duncan and she's from Tennessee. She followed a friend here after they ran away. They were headed to Arizona, but they met him." I pointed to one of the men lying dead in the hall. "They trusted him, but he kidnapped and forced them into this life." They were innocent prisoners. Her friend was still alive in the next room.

The second girl's soul was already gone by the time I got to her—a bullet to her head. When I touched her hand I saw Lizzy's face, bleeding, crying, calling out to me, "Help me! Help me!" Lizzy was connected to this girl. Was this the clue I was waiting for?

The third girl was crying hysterically in the other room while a female deputy tried to stop her from screaming. "Where's Sarah? Is she okay?" Her friend had been shot and murdered, and she would have been dead too if Dale and the others hadn't gotten to her captors first.

When I looked in on her, she stood up. "Maya, you saved me! She said you'd save me!" the girl in the leather skirt yelled. I turned the corner, in shock, as Dale grabbed my arm and realized there was something greater going on.

"Do you know her?" Tucker asked.

"No." Lizzy had come to this girl, like she did with Karen. How did she know I'd save her?

Both Dale and Tucker looked at each other.

The ambulance came and took the girl, Nicole, to the hospital. This left three more souls to seek.

The first man was dressed in black, his bald head shimmering from the overhead lights in the hall. He wore a gold star pendant around his neck. He lay dead in the hallway, with five bullets in him; suicide by cop. He couldn't chance being caught and put on trial; his boss would have had him killed in jail anyway. This was an honorable death in his eyes.

I stood above his body, carefully watching the blood escape onto the rug below him. The heat from Hell was starting to dissipate and both souls from the other two men were also gone. He was the one who shot and killed the two girls so they wouldn't talk. He died before he got to Nicole.

"The coroner is here." Eric broke my concentration.

"Maya, I'm sorry, but are you done with him?" Tucker was worried. He never saw me in action before, being tormented by spirits and demons, something he couldn't quite understand. I nodded and made my way into another room next to Sarah's for quiet.

"Are there more perps out there like these three? Or is this it?" Dale followed me in.

"There's more. These aren't the only ones in town." I wandered back and forth, holding my stomach as I smelled the blood from the bodies outside.

Tucker hobbled into the room. "The girl, what she said, do you think this has something to do with Lizzy's murder?" I nodded yes. "Do you think Lizzy was taken to be a sex slave?" I nodded yes again.

I began to see why she was blocking things from me.

"Damien said he sold Karen to the men who were at the boatyard. He was planning on selling her to this sex ring. There's a connection between the drugs and this." I thanked Tucker for helping me realize it all.

"Same people running it? I thought Damien Santos was top dog?" Tucker was confused.

"Yes, maybe just here in Caldwell, but who was he getting the drugs from? We have to think of the bigger picture. Damien is just a pawn. I bet you there are a whole slew of men out there selling girls and drugs." I was scared to think what really was going on.

"This could be huge." Dale shook his head.

"Someone's letting this happen in Caldwell." Both of them agreed with me.

"Who is it?" Tucker asked.

"Let's question the girl and see where it takes us. Maybe she knows something," Dale said while he dialed a number on his phone.

"That was insane. I don't think I've ever seen that many bullets flying besides at the range." Tucker rested against the desk in the room.

"You aren't supposed to be pursuing bad guys yet. How's your leg?" I leaned against the desk next to him.

"I guess this is my welcome back?" He smiled. "I'm fine, just a little uncomfortable. It happened so quickly." He looked down at my hand and held it up. Blood from Sarah's body stained my fingers. He tried to scrub it off. "I'm sorry you had to see all this blood."

Tucker had no idea just how used to it I was. "I'm alright, don't worry about me." I smiled.

He put my hand back down and nodded his head. "You're not a very good liar." How did he know?

"I'm getting the FBI involved." Dale clicked his phone off, interrupting Tucker and me.

"No, not until we have more evidence. I'm not even sure if it goes beyond Caldwell. If it's just isolated here it'll be a waste of their time," I said.

Dale sighed and thought. "Alright. You have five days. After that, I have to make the call. And I can't guarantee the commissioners are going to feel the same way." Dale was insistent.

"Thank you." I knew if the FBI took over I'd lose Lizzy's case. It was time to really crack down, no matter the cost.

"Do you want me to take you to the hospital to talk to that girl?"

I couldn't tell Tucker I had enough of hospitals and the spirits who haunted the halls, waiting for me to return. "No, I'll wait until after she's out. Too many distractions there."

The crime scene was taken over by forensics and the coroner. We waited in the rundown lobby. I wrote and drew my visions of the day so I wouldn't forget anything.

I dropped my pen, my mind elsewhere—my conscience not clear of what happened. "Those girls died because of me." I looked to Tucker.

"What? No, Maya, you can't think like that. It wasn't your fault." He tried to convince me.

"If we just waited until they were being transported somewhere, or if we lured the men out somehow, they'd be alive and with their families right now." I rushed Dale into saving them, when we should have taken our time. We should have come up with a plan. Why didn't I see it coming?

Tucker stood up and walked over to me, grabbing my shoulders, squeezing them tighter. He made me look into his eyes; I was inches away from his lips, his breath sweet like honey.

"You did nothing wrong. Everything happened the way it was supposed to. You saved those girls, no matter what happened today. They don't have to live being abused anymore."

"But they'd be alive. They'd be able to go back to a normal life."

"Do you think Nicole is going to have a normal life now? After all she's been through? Those two girls are at peace now." He was right. Life didn't get easier, it just got more complicated after a tragedy.

Nicole was huddled on the couch of the safe house, frozen with fear. She was clean and wrapped in a blanket.

"Thank you for saving me." Her body was frail and I could feel her spine poking through her back. She had been starved for a long time. Her skin was rough as she held onto my hand.

"If I hadn't seen you through the fence." I stopped myself. I didn't want to remind her Sarah was dead because I rushed to rescue her.

Nicole's lips were pale, almost as white as her skin. She wasn't allowed outside in the sun, for fear she'd run. "Lizzy came to me and told me you would find us."

"How did she come to you?"

"The day before you found us I was sleeping then I woke to someone whispering in my ear. She said her name was Lizzy and she started to tell me about you. Stories about how you saved people who needed to be saved. She said you were coming to rescue me soon and I shouldn't be afraid anymore. I thought I was dreaming when I saw her, but she was right."

"Do you know why she came to you? Did you know her somehow?"

Dyami taught me souls showed themselves in different lights with different people. Some spirits could appear as an object, like a bird or butterfly; others showed themselves as people.

"When I saw her it looked like she was chained up, like she was being held prisoner like all us girls have been. I think she was in a barn." Nicole played with the border on the blanket covering her body. "But I don't remember ever seeing her."

"Have you been to a similar place?" I dug for more clues.

"Yes. A long time ago and then they took me recently. I was locked up in a cage, and I think Lizzy was in a similar cage too when she came to me," she said.

"Do you remember anything about the barn? Noises outside? Inside? Was there a house nearby?"

"No, I can't remember. They drugged us up sometimes during the moves so we wouldn't run away. I don't remember much I'm sorry." She started to cry. "The last time they moved me they put a pillowcase over my head so I couldn't see." Nicole was scared.

"What about the men? Would you be able to recognize any of them?" Dale asked.

"Maybe. Some of them wear ski masks and some don't ever talk. Some I've heard with Southern accents, others were Russian. I've been moved a lot. Sometimes we were hidden in hotels, sometimes houses." She started to cry and shake her head. "They were always cold, so cold, like there was never any heat on. They were always abandoned buildings."

"What about recently? You said you were at the barn, how many days ago?" I asked.

"I don't know. A few weeks?" She couldn't remember.

"What about the other locations you were at recently? Anything you can remember from there?" Dale asked.

Nicole nodded. "I don't know where we were, but I remember one place they took me just a couple days ago. The hotel smelled like gas and I could hear big trucks honking their horns. It was a newer building, but it wasn't finished."

I looked up to Dale and Tucker. All three of us could think of one truck stop in town with a hotel right next to it that fit this description.

"Is she dead? Lizzy? Is she gone?" she cried.

"Yes, she's gone." I looked down.

"There are more—more girls needing to be saved. You'll find them." Nicole laid her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes. I hugged her and turned to watch Tucker who had his hand to his mouth. He knew what this meant; I was going to put myself in more danger than I was already in.

Red High Heel

Trucks roared down the new highway behind us, their headlights blinding our eyes while we entered through the construction zone of the hotel next door. The same fencing surrounded the outside as the last hotel.

Tucker and I both looked up to the sign on the door of the lobby:

HOTEL CLOSED WHILE UNDER CONSTRUCTION

"Seems a bit coincidental?" Tucker acknowledged.

We split up into two teams, Dale and Eric with their team took the first floor, Tucker and I with our team took the upstairs. No workers were around since it was nighttime and no cars were parked out front. We had a warrant to search the hotel and went in full force.

"This place feels like the last one," I said out loud. Tucker looked confused. "There was an evil spirit at the last hotel. There's something here too. It's watching us."

We made our way down the long hall and I slowed my stride, making sure I wasn't missing anything.

"Aren't evil spirits always haunting old houses? Not brand new buildings?" he wondered.

"Spirits can be anywhere, new or old. They're usually hanging around abandoned buildings because whoever they were haunting moved away leaving the home empty and their spirits are still lingering, waiting for them to come back." I was spooking Tucker. "You'd be surprised what spirits can do when they're angry."

"I'll leave that part up to you," he joked.

"Not all spirits are bad, but some can be. Like the one hanging around here." I opened a door to one of the rooms. Plastic covered part of an open wall.

"You guys finding anything?" Eric called in through Tucker's radio.

"Nothing yet," he answered.

"We aren't finding anything either."

As soon as we started to head back a man came out of one of the rooms, dressed in black and carrying a gun. When he saw us he quickly stopped, not expecting to see anyone walking around, let alone deputies.

Tucker pulled out his gun and pointed it at the man. "Maya, get back." He gently shoved me behind a doorway. "Sheriff's Department! Drop the gun and put your hands up!"

The man turned to look at Tucker and yelled, "Cops!"

I could hear commotion coming from another room down the hall. The man put the gun on the ground and threw his hands in the air. A door ahead swung open and another perpetrator came out, holding a gun up in the air. Two deputies ran over and apprehended him.

"There's another man, fourth door on the left. Two girls are inside." I pointed up ahead. Tucker and two more deputies rushed in.

"Sheriff's Department!" Tucker's voice was aggressive as he detained the man. "Get down on the ground now!"

I could hear girls screaming and crying from the room Tucker was in and I made my way through the construction plastic and opened the closet door.

Two girls, one who didn't look older than thirteen, the other around my age, hid deep in the corner wearing just their underwear. "It's okay, we're here to help you." The girls slowly emerged, holding up their hands, crying hysterically as I reached for them.

Tucker looked up at me as he threw the third suspect with red hair on the bed handcuffed. He pulled out a suitcase from under the bed full of cocaine. This was the drug and trafficking connection we needed.

I wrapped the freezing girls in blankets from the bed and led them out of the room. I turned to look at Tucker who was breathing heavily, his brown eyes glowing red with anger. He couldn't understand the evil that lived inside people, like I could.

I walked around the outside of the hotel, the construction lights glowing from up above, guiding my way to an open field, something still weighing on me. Tucker caught up and was limping.

"You can't hide the pain from me." I pointed to his leg. "You really should be using your crutches."

"It's nothing, you don't need to worry." He smirked.

"Thanks for rescuing me back there." I nudged him, but I wanted to do more than that.

"I did?"

"When we saw the first guy you pushed me to safety. Thank you." I shyly looked up at him.

He stood up straighter. "I didn't want you in the line of fire again."

"I guess I'll have to let you take the Mustang for a spin now," I joked.

He laughed and wiped his mouth. "I see. So, I have to do something nice to get something nice back with you."

"Don't think you're figuring me out." I was serious. "I'm still full of mysteries, and strategies."

"I'm sure you are, Maya." His eyes had calmed and were brown and orange again. He got closer to me, reaching his arm out for mine like he was going to hug me. I wanted to kiss him, my hero, but Dale walked from behind the building, interrupting us. I quickly turned my body away from Tucker, my heart thumping.

"You've been out here for a while. What's going on?" Dale asked.

"I'm missing something." I stepped away from Tucker and got back to the real reason I was out in the field. I began to dig around in the bushes.

"What are you looking for?" Tucker was also curious.

"I dreamt of this field before." I continued to search the snowy ground for a clue. "I dreamt an arm pulled me under the dirt, into Hell." I dug my fingers into the hard dirt with my leather gloves on. The ground was frozen making it too difficult to get through, but something was under the surface, waiting to be found.

Tucker bent down and pulled out his pocketknife, digging at the ground until an object appeared. We both were desperate now, and Tucker stabbed the ground even harder, bending his blade. From behind us each of the buildings' lights blew out in a sequence, leaving us in the dark. I looked to Tucker who was scared.

"What was that?" Tucker looked all around.

"Someone doesn't want us here," I whispered.

A streetlamp blew from the right of us, and then suddenly the entire truck stop was in the dark.

"Keep digging." Dale's flashlight glared down on us.

Tucker and I were hesitant. The evil lurking in the hotel was watching—trying to hide what it knew we were going to find. Finally, after more digging, the object was reachable and we tugged it out from the loose dirt. I held it up to the small light we had.

A size seven high heel shoe. Red.

Death Is Coming

"Just tell us who you work for, Alex." I could hear Dale's words clearly as I walked to the door of the interrogation room with the pathologist behind me.

"Ha, very funny. I don't know what you're talking about." The redheaded man from the hotel next to the truck stop played dumb.

I walked in, wheeling the dead girl's frosty corpse, with the red high heel shoes, through the door. She was beginning to thaw, making her skin like rubber again. Her body was found wrapped in a white sheet. Dale and Tucker stood up, holding their breath from the stench. The pathologist took out her binder of notes and handed them to me. I sat down at the table.

"What is this?" The man backed away, holding his hand to his nose. The smell didn't bother me; I was becoming accustomed to death's odor once more. "This isn't right. Get her body out of here!"

"Oh, so you know who this is? I couldn't even tell if this was a woman or a man's body being wrapped in this sheet. How long do you think she's been rotting? A year maybe?" I turned to the pathologist who nodded her head yes. "How many more girls are buried back there?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." The man kept his nose plugged, overly emphasizing his disgust.

"Sure you do. We found her body forty feet from the backdoor of the hotel. I'm sure there's more. They're having a hard time digging through the frozen ground, but they'll keep digging until they find all of them." I tilted my head to the man and smiled. "We'll not only get you on sex trafficking and drug possession, but multiple homicides as well. What's the penalty here in Montana? Death by lethal injection? No wait, the gas chamber." I folded my hands in my lap.

"I didn't kill any girls!" Alex stammered.

"You see the dilemma we're having, though? The guy in the next room is telling us you're the boss. You ordered this girl"—I pointed to the corpse—"to be murdered because she was sick and the customers were complaining. He's talking, you're not."

"What? I'm not the boss," he yelled. "We just use the hotel because nobody's there anymore. The developer ran out of money, so it's just an abandoned building now." The young man played with his wedding ring. He had no idea he was incriminating himself.

"How would your wife like to find out her husband doesn't work the nightshift at the mine, but he's actually a human trafficker who lets underage girls get raped every day?" I stopped, letting him think it all over. "How many times have you sneaked in for some pleasure yourself? How old were those girls?"

"What? I never touched any of them I swear!" Alex shook his head no.

"Let's call your wife down here; I'd love to see her reaction. Better yet, let's make sure she brings your five-year-old daughter."

"No! No, no please. Look, I'll admit to knowing what they were doing, but I'm not going to take the fall for any murders." He started to cry.

"Who's your boss, Alex?" Dale demanded.

"I don't know who it is; no one does, but I'm not the boss." Alex put his hands to his head. He was too young, wasted his whole life, his marriage, his daughter's future, and for what? A little more cash each month? People were so weak.

"We'll just have to search your phone I guess." Tucker started going through his phone log.

"He calls from a blocked number and speaks into one of those voice-changing devices. That's all I know."

Tucker found a few calls from a blocked number on his phone and showed it to Dale and me.

"What about the drugs?" Dale questioned.

"Same thing. They usually arrive with the new set of girls. We offer them to the men that come." Alex wouldn't say any more.

Dale went next door and played the same game to the owner of the gas station as I did with Alex. The man also told us the same story as Alex and had a blocked caller ID in his phone records.

We got all the information we could on the two men. One of the deputies took the owner of the gas station downstairs into holding.

Dale led me out of the room. "No talk of you being in there with us, got it?" I shook my head. "If anyone finds out you were in there, and you're not a cop, we'll be in trouble."

"What if one of them tells someone I was in there?"

"Who are they going to believe? A criminal who lets little girls get raped, or a sheriff?" He touched the end of my nose with his index finger. "I'm proud of you. As soon as you turn eighteen, you better be applying to the academy."

"We'll see about that." I smiled.

"Dad, come here!" Tucker led Dale and me back to the other room. Alex lay on the floor convulsing, stammering in a language that sounded like Italian. We looked at each other. "Should I call an ambulance?"

"Hold off." Dale walked over to Alex and when he touched him he attacked Dale, throwing him against the wall. His face was filled with wrath, ready to tear down the building if he had to. Tucker ran over and tried to stop him, but was thrown to the side. A chair flung on its own from behind us and hit Alex in the back—his body not even flinching. How was that possible? Was it Lizzy's spirit doing this?

"Mortem! Mortem venit! Mortem venit!" Alex pushed his way past Tucker again and headed straight for me. "He's coming for you, girl! This time he's gonna finish you off!" The man picked me up by the neck and flung Tucker back again when he tried to save me. I felt my breath slowly leave my lungs. I needed air.

"You're next!" The man laughed, his eyes glowing from the demon inside him. The table and chairs began to rattle from the evil inside the man. His body had been taken over by the same demon who hunted my soul. I hit him again and again when finally Tucker grabbed and threw him on the floor. Alex broke out into laughter. "Mortem! Mortem!"

My head ached and I fell to my knees. The pain took over my whole body and my temperature rose, sweat beading on my forehead. I held my neck in pain and coughed as the air came back into my lungs.

"Maya? What's going on?" Tucker yelled as he cuffed Alex.

"The devil wants her!" Alex laughed again. "None of you will be able to save her! She's the one! He's coming for you, girl! You're next!"

Tucker and another deputy pulled him out of the room to put him in holding as Dale helped me up. "What the hell was that?" Dale held onto me as I stood, the pain slowly dissipating.

"I don't know." I breathed in deep.

Dale led me to his office where I was able to sit down with the door closed. He handed me a glass of water just as Tucker ran in. "What happened, Maya?" He kneeled down and touched my neck. "How did he do that?" He looked to his dad. "And the chair? Did you do that?"

"Do you know what he was saying?" Dale asked me. "How did he do that to you?" Dale pointed to the burn marks from the man's hands around my neck.

"I don't know. He grabbed me pretty tight. He's obviously delusional," I said, trying to cover up what I suspected. Tucker ran out to get a med kit.

The evil demon lurking at both hotels had followed me to the station and took over Alex's body.

"What was he doing to you? You were in pain, not just from the burn," Tucker asked when he came back with the first aid pack.

"I don't know; I was just hit with a vision." I couldn't explain it to them as I was still confused by it all.

"Was he speaking Latin?" Dale asked.

"Yeah. Mortem means death, right?" Tucker looked to me.

"He was saying death is coming." I stood, holding my chest. How did I know that?

"Did you see his eyes?" Tucker shook his head. "He was not right in the head."

"He said you were the one. Mean anything to you?" Dale asked.

Eric rushed in, interrupting our conversation, and yelled for us to come to the holding cells in the basement. "Something really weird just happened."

"Stay here," Dale demanded when I stood up to follow them. Tucker stayed with me, looking over my wound.

"Tell me the truth, what happened back there? I tried to fight him off, but he kept throwing me back like it was nothing. How could he do that?"

I flinched when the cold cream of the burn ointment touched my hot skin. "I don't know, I think something possessed him."

Tucker's eyes became wide. "Right, like the evil spirit—or whatever it was—watching us at the hotels?" He was catching on to what was really going on in my world. I nodded.

"I was scared, I'm not going to lie, when I couldn't get to you," he continued. Tell me more? "That looks nasty. Has this ever happened to you before?"

Before I could answer, Tucker and I could hear running and yelling coming from the hall. He grabbed my hand and we followed the rest of the officers down the stairs.

All our suspects were dead, laying on the concrete floor, blood and vomit everywhere. We all looked at each other, our minds trying to wrap themselves around the mass suicide—or murder. Nobody knew what happened.

"Who was in here?" Dale was yelling at his deputies. "Get the surveillance cameras up! I want to know who came and went!" Eric and another deputy ran upstairs.

I let go of Tucker's hand and leaned back against the brick wall. "No, this isn't right."

Tucker turned to look at me. What he just witnessed with Alex and the demon inside him, he was just as spooked as I was.

"Sir." Eric ran back down, holding Dale's laptop. We watched from the recording as the men all sat or lay down in their cells. No one walked in or around them. Suddenly Alex stood up and started holding his neck like he was choking. The other men followed, throwing up, convulsing, until they were all dead.

"How is this possible?" Dale turned to me.

"I don't know. Maybe someone gave them something before they went to their cells," I guessed.

Dale was infuriated. "All these suspects and this happens? Find out which of my deputies brought them in here. So help me God if any of my men had something to do with this..."

"Yes sir." Eric rushed up the stairs.

"What is going on around here?" Dale yelled. His phone rang and he shook his head. "This better not be what I think it is." He answered it and waited for the person on the other end to finish. "What? No—you make sure the other men...Wait, all of them?" He rubbed his head in anger. "Well find out who in the hell did it!" He threw his cell phone across the floor.

"Damien's dead?" I knew. I didn't have to ask.

"Yup!" he yelled.

"And the other men from the boatyard?" I hesitated, knowing the answer again.

"All dead." Dale punched the desk next to him.

"What's going on?" Tucker asked.

"That was the jail in Fairway where Damien and the other men we captured from the boatyard are being held. Guess who all just fell to the floor mysteriously and died the same way these guys did?"

"No, that's impossible." Tucker shook his head.

"I want you to find out who did this. Do whatever you have to do." Dale glared at us and stormed up the stairs, leaving me to try and decipher the mess. All of our suspects were dead. One of them was bound to tell us who their boss was, but now we had nothing, again.

I got to work, touching each man, carefully stepping over the vomit on the floor, trying to avoid the stench. Nothing—not even a vision. The devil was protecting his army of demons from me.

Privacy

Reporters slammed cameras and microphones in my face, yelling my name, screaming out questions of the slave girls we rescued. "Hey psychic girl!" one of them yelled.

"Maya!" a familiar voice called out in the crowd. I turned to see blondie, Cindy Wakefield, holding a microphone in the air.

Tucker and Eric guided me to the front door of the station, pushing the reporters away. I hid behind my sunglasses and baseball cap until we were finally inside.

"Life of the rich and famous?" Eric laughed as we sat down at his and Tucker's desk. The other officers had the TV up as they watched the news streaming in from out front.

"Good morning, I'm Cindy Wakefield here live outside the Caldwell sheriff's station. We've just learned of the heroic rescue of three young girls who were victims of a sex trafficking ring. The sheriff's department has hired a local psychic, Maya Colebrook, to help in the investigation. Just hours ago they were able to—"

I turned around, rolling my eyes. Cindy Wakefield, the stuck-up cheerleader from high school who wanted Colin, gleamed through the TV. I should have known she'd be on TV one day the way she always talked about being famous and taking acting lessons.

"Don't like her?" Tucker noticed.

"I went to school with her, Cindy Wakefield." I mimicked her high pitched squeal. "She's just one of those people you wish you could forget." I doodled with my pen and paper, ignoring the deputies behind me talking about how hot Cindy was. I remembered the flirtatious look Colin used to give her back in school.

"Hey Tucker, your dad's about ready to go on." Eric pointed to Dale walking to the front door.

"He's going to make a statement," Tucker explained.

The mayor and three commissioners stood next to Dale as they took the podium outside to make their address to the reporters.

"How did they find out I was involved?" I asked Tucker.

"Someone obviously talked. We'll just have to keep you here for a few days until the reporters leave. Which holding cell do you want?" he joked.

"Not funny."

We both looked toward the TV again as they cut off Cindy and panned over to Dale and the mayor.

Dale wore his dark brown sheriff's uniform with a light brown tie underneath the buttoned jacket. The American and Montana state flag flew behind him. He looked confident standing in front of the reporters, ready to tackle their questions.

"We are still reviewing evidence and cannot give specific details as to who was arrested or who is involved." He cleared his throat, waiting for the next question.

My ears pierced as Cindy came on. "Sheriff MacMullen, can you tell us why you hired a psychic for the case?"

"The psychic you are speaking of was not hired. This person was with one of my deputies at the time of the discovery, and that deputy acted appropriately."

"Is it true the psychic spoke with the dead girls from the hotel?" another reporter yelled out. People were so ignorant.

"Details of how she does or doesn't communicate with the victims are all hearsay. We require physical proof of evidence on a case and that is what she provided." He was trying to get the reporters to move on to a new subject.

"All of your suspects were mysteriously murdered. Can you provide us with an accurate number that are dead? Have you found a suspect in those charges yet? Who were the men who died?" a man asked.

"The names of the suspects will not be released until we have contacted their families," Dale answered. "All other details are still under investigation."

"How many locations of this slave ring have you discovered?" a woman from the LA Times asked.

"Again, I cannot give details on the case, but I would like to say we have made a tiny dent in what is a huge problem in this country. Human trafficking can be going on anywhere. To everyone listening, be aware of what happens in your communities. If something looks off, report it."

The mayor took the podium and explained how the trafficking would be the department's number one priority until all girls were found. After several more questions the mayor raised his hand to end the interview and went back inside.

"Our mandatory meeting starts right now," Dale yelled out and everyone began to file in closer as he stormed through the door. Reporters' cameras flashed inside hoping to get a picture of me. The mayor stood to the side of Dale and smiled when we made eye contact. Did he ever stop looking at me like a piece of meat?

"I know this is a little hectic," Dale continued. "We still don't know who leaked this story to reporters. So, to take action, we are implementing an immediate leave of absence to anyone found guilty of talking to the media about the case at hand. Do all of you understand?" Everyone nodded. "Good. I hope you realize how serious this is. All of our suspects mysteriously died. How? We don't know yet, but we will find the truth."

"So what's next, boss? Is the FBI getting involved?" a deputy asked.

"We"—he pointed to the mayor and commissioners—"agree we should investigate more with what evidence we do have and then go from there. We are all so invested in this case I'd hate to see it handed off so easily." We all agreed with Dale.

After the meeting the commissioners, mayor, and Dale all talked in his office and a few minutes later came out. "Thank you, Dale, for your hard work and determination. Now on behalf of myself and the city, I will give you whatever resources you need," the mayor said. He was putting on his thick wool jacket and leather gloves again; his shoes were freshly polished.

"Thank you, John." Dale smiled as they walked up to me and Tucker. I slowly covered myself with my sweater so the mayor wouldn't look at my breasts with his flirtatious eyes.

"Hello, Ms. Colebrook. It is so nice to see you again." He smiled. "Tucker." They shook hands. "You're all doing such a great job and I'm proud to have you all on my team," Mayor Ward acknowledged. "Maya, if you need anything, do not hesitate to ask, alright?" He got closer to me. "Try to stay away from the reporters," he whispered. "They can be so...persistent."

I shifted my body so he wasn't so close. "I'll be sure to stay away."

He smiled and left with the commissioners.

"What a day," Tucker said with a heavy sigh.

"You got that right." I sighed in return.

"It's going to be even longer. Looks like the reporters are sticking around waiting for you to make an appearance." He pointed to the front window at the line of news trucks and reporters. "Eric and I will take you home after they go away."

My phone rang—Colin was calling. He probably also saw the news. I clicked it off as Ben and Tanya caught my eye.

"Maya!" Tanya hugged me.

I looked to Tucker, who smiled and stood up to give us privacy. Don't go, I begged him.

"What are you guys doing here?" I was short.

"We saw the interview with Dale and rushed right over." Tanya sat down, holding my hand, touching my face, making sure I was alright.

"I'm fine, guys. You didn't have to come here." I hid the burn on my neck with my hair so they wouldn't see.

"You've been ignoring us and our phone calls since we got back. It's time we start talking again, don't you think?" Tanya spoke up. "Right, Ben?" She glared at him.

Ben cleared his throat. "Right."

"No more of this not talking thing; it's driving me insane. Understood?" She looked to the both of us. I nodded my head, and then Ben nodded his. "Good."

"Dale told us what happened with Tucker and Stacey." Ben sat down next to me. "We wish you would have come to us, especially with what happened to Stacey and the neighbor."

Their eyes were begging for me to forgive them. As much as I wanted to be mad, I had to remember they were the only family I had. I needed them...and what hurt the most, they needed me.

"I didn't know what to say. I'm still trying to figure all this out. There's so much Lizzy kept from me, from Colin. I don't know why she didn't tell me about Stacey." I started to cry. "Why wouldn't she tell me?"

Tanya pulled me in close. "She was probably scared you'd convince her not to do what she did. Some people can't handle being told what they're doing is wrong."

"She didn't want you to worry about her. You were just settling into your new life with us. Maybe she was worried she'd disrupt your happiness...at least we hope you were happy with us?" Ben lowered his head.

"Of course I was happy with you guys, and I think you're right. I think Lizzy didn't want anyone to worry about her. She was too stubborn to ask for help." I wiped the tears away. Or was there another reason?

You're Next

The front door to Dyami's was wide open and the lock broken. The offender had already left; the darkness of the man still lingered, and the stench of blood filled my senses, making me queasy.

Tucker and Eric drew their guns and started to go inside. "There's something dead in there." Tucker looked to me and nodded.

"Like a dead body? I don't think I can do one more dead body." Eric was already disturbed enough by the events at the station; this would just set him over the edge.

"An animal," I specified.

I waited for them to clear the rooms then the barn. When I stepped inside, I found my second home in shambles. Pictures were scattered on the ground and all of Lizzy's evidence ripped to shreds. The Christmas tree I put up was tipped over, the decorative balls shattered. I wanted to surprise Dyami with the decorations for when he got home, but now, his home was in disarray.

You're next! I stared at the spray paint on the wall of the dining room. The words echoed in my head from the demon inside Alex. The same red paint was used on the hood of my car before the accident.

I turned away and looked around the rest of the house; all of Dyami's family heirlooms were broken. How would I explain this to him? His grandmother's beaded necklace was in pieces across the floor.

I could feel Tucker watching as I made my way through the mess. He placed his left hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright?"

I nodded, trying to keep myself composed.

"You were right about something being dead. Eric and I will make sure it gets cleaned up."

"A pig?"

He was surprised I knew, and then nodded. I made my way into my bedroom. Tucker tried to stop me, but I needed to see for myself; I needed to see what I was afraid of.

The animal's head lay on my bed, blood smeared all over the room, the stench overpowering. Tucker led me out of the bedroom, thinking I might be in shock by my lack of response.

I stepped on some broken glass, crunching on the linoleum. Tucker and Eric went into the living room to talk.

"Do you think it was a prank? Kids, maybe?" Eric suggested, trying to keep his voice down, but I could hear everything they were saying.

"No. It wasn't."

I sat down at the kitchen table.

"Do you know who it was?" Tucker was content with the fact someone was pulling a prank on me.

"Same thing happened right before my car accident," I said. Someone vandalized my car and left a pig's head on the doorstep of Ben's house. Whoever did this is trying to make another statement."

"Do you think this was the man who killed Lizzy?" Tucker asked.

"Yes. And I don't think, I know."

"We should call Bob down to dust for fingerprints." Eric looked around.

"There's no point. He doesn't leave things behind," I said, remembering the shadow man putting gloves on while he loaded his gun.

"Does it look like anything was stolen?" Eric started to pick up things from the ground and place them on the couch.

"He wasn't here to steal anything." He did it to rile me up, to warn me that he wasn't fooling around this time. I sat on the tattered couch and looked down at the floor of pictures and pieces of paper.

"I have to report this." Tucker, despite his friendship with me, still had a job and duty. It wouldn't do anything or remove the dead pig's head from my room, but he still had to do it.

A few minutes later Eric got a call from dispatch about a rowdy crowd at one of the bars and they needed backup. He helped Tucker bag the animal and left quickly, leaving just Tucker and me to clean up the rest of the mess.

After Tucker took pictures of the home for evidence, we got to work cleaning. I delicately picked the beads off the kitchen floor from Dyami's grandmother's necklace, putting them into a sandwich bag. Maybe I could put it back together, I said to myself trying to remember what it looked like before.

"Was this your car?" Tucker held up the pictures of the Mustang Colin took after my accident.

"Big mess huh?" I shook my head. "Hard to believe it's the same car."

"Who fixed it up for you?"

I hesitated. "A friend." I didn't want to go into detail about Colin.

"I can't believe you survived that and you're still in one piece. You're one strong girl."

I blushed. "Yeah, well, I wasn't in one piece a year ago." I took the pictures from him and put them on top of the fridge. I didn't want to think about that night, or anything else for that matter.

Tucker picked up the broken glass and started to collect more pictures scattered across the floor when he stood up. I heard it too—screeching brakes from out front. Tucker drew his gun and walked over to the front door just as it was pushed open.

"Who are you?" Tucker pointed his gun to the ground, ready to lift it up if he had to.

"Colin? What are you doing here?" I motioned for Tucker to put his gun away, hoping Stacey wasn't with him. I looked down at the bag of groceries in his hand.

Colin looked around at the mess and the spray paint on the wall. "What happened? What's going on?" He came in and shut the broken door, noticing the lock dangling.

Tucker went to shake Colin's hand. "Hi, I'm Deputy MacMullen."

"I know who you are." Colin didn't show my polite cowboy the same respect. Tucker quickly lowered his hand.

I went back and forth between the two, the tension unbearable. "Tucker, this is Colin, Lizzy's brother." I enunciated so he'd get the hint. Tucker nodded and realized this was going to be interesting and walked into the living room.

"What's going on, Maya? Who broke in? I saw all the stuff on TV—was it one of the reporters?" Colin was panicky. He set the grocery bag on the counter. "Were you here when it happened?" He reached for my hips to pull me in. I backed away, hoping Tucker wouldn't notice.

"We think it was a couple of kids trying to play a prank. We're getting it all taken care of and Tucker's filing a report."

Colin looked toward Tucker and pushed past me. Tucker watched him circle the living room. He saw the spray paint and turned to look at me, shaking his head. I tried to stop him before he went into my bedroom, but it was too late. He opened the door and went inside when he realized this wasn't child's play.

"What's all this blood from?" He turned to me. His eyes struck mine with fear after he realized what was probably on the bed and I fell back against the wall. He leaned into me, inches from my body, pulling me into him.

"Colin, please? It's nothing," I whispered.

"Nothing? You know this is him! You're gonna get yourself killed, Maya!"

"I don't know if it's him. Tucker and Eric were here when we first discovered all this. Tucker's filing a report for me." I walked into the hall, toward the kitchen, hoping Colin would leave.

"What, one cop? Like he's gonna stop the guy from trying to kill you again? He's watching you and knows you're here!" he yelled. "What next? We get a call that you're dead too?" Colin was louder than I wanted him to be—Tucker definitely heard our entire conversation. I was embarrassed and worried what he was thinking.

"I think you should go. I have to start cleaning and as you can see, this is going to take a while. Dyami's going to be home in a couple days."

"Let's just talk, okay?"

"I don't want to talk." I walked away from him.

Colin slammed the wall to get me to stop. I flinched and Tucker looked up.

"Hey, there's no need for that!" Tucker yelled to Colin.

"Mind your own business!" Colin snapped back.

"Look, she asked you to leave. I think you best listen to her." Tucker walked over to us. My heart was racing. Colin didn't care if Tucker was a deputy or not; he'd throw a punch if he had the opportunity.

"Stay out of this; it has nothing to do with you." Colin pushed past me and got closer to Tucker.

"Hey—hey, Colin." I stepped in front of him before any more words could be thrown—or worse, punches. "Go outside." I pushed Colin to the door, both boys staring each other down. Colin threw open the front door, slamming it against the kitchen cabinet. I turned to look at Tucker, his fists clenched. He was ready for a fight.

"Maya, I don't think you should go out there." Tucker tried to stop me.

"It's okay, we all just need to take a breather right now," I assured him Colin wasn't going to hurt me. I grabbed my coat and followed Colin to his truck.

"What the hell was that?" I yelled to Colin, who was leaning against the hood of his truck. "You know he has a gun, right?"

"I don't care." He spoke quietly now.

I gave a heavy sigh. "Your temper gets the best of you."

"Yeah, well I have a good reason." He turned toward me.

"What reason is that?"

"I love you, Maya. I always have."

"Don't you dare do this to me now, Colin." I started for the door when he grabbed my hand. I looked at him in the eyes; they were dark blue tonight. He was angry and worried. I melted when he looked at me like that. I had to look away; I had to put up my wall.

"Look at your neck!" He moved my hair out of the way. I quickly moved it back. "Who did that to you? Is this ever going to stop, Maya?"

"I don't know." I was honest. I didn't know when it would stop. I didn't know if it ever could.

"Seeing all this..." He pointed to the house, then to the burn on my neck. "It takes me back to when I got the call you were in the hospital after your accident. What kills me the most is that I couldn't get to you. I couldn't save you."

"Colin—"

"Listen to me! I thought I lost everything when you were gone. Now that you're here, I have to tell you just how much I really do love you. I need a second chance—make up for everything I did to you."

"Why are you tormenting me?" I wanted to hit him. "You pushed me out of your truck that morning. You pushed me away. Now that I've moved on, you want me back? Why?" Had I really moved on?

"I'm scared I'll lose you for real next time."

Don't fall into his trap again, Maya.

"I can't do this right now. I think it's best we don't talk for a while until I can figure all this out."

He looked at me, then up at the house. "Right. Go back inside." He slammed his truck door and took off to the highway, his motor rumbling through the hills.

My heart was heavy as I made my way back inside, taking off my jacket at the door. I couldn't look at Tucker and I hoped he wasn't turned off by what happened.

"All okay?" He leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Yeah." It wasn't, and he knew. "Sorry about all that."

"You're sorry? You shouldn't be the one to apologize." He was right, but I didn't want to hear it. I turned away from him and continued to clean. "What's his deal?"

"Well, you are the son of the sheriff who shut down his sister's case. I'm sure you can understand why he was upset to see you." I didn't want to defend Colin's actions. Tucker was more of a man and gentleman than Colin would ever be, but Colin had every right to be upset seeing him.

"I get it." Tucker folded his arms looking at me. I could picture him against a log cabin, looking out at the sunset. I was nervous around him and the way he looked at me like he was the only one who could see the real Maya. "I just thought maybe there was something, you know, between you two?"

"Uh, no, trust me, there's nothing there." I bent down and picked up a frame that held a picture of Lizzy and I together when we were teenagers and put it back on the bookshelf.

"It's obvious he cares about you."

"Yeah, well, I'm more of a sister to him than anything."

"Do you feel the same with him?"

I dropped the things in my hand. "I'm sorry, I really don't think that's any of your business." I put my hand over my mouth. "I'm sorry, Tucker...I didn't mean to say it like that."

"I didn't mean to pry. I just figured you two were together because he was so protective of you."

"He is protective, for another reason. His sister and I were best friends and we were in the same foster home, so he's just concerned like he would be with her." I was beyond mortified. I sat at the kitchen table. "Thank you Tucker, really, thank you for helping me."

He smiled and nodded his head. "Of course." He looked at his watch. "Well, I'm officially off duty." I walked toward the door, but when I turned around he grabbed for the sweeper.

"You don't need to stay. You're off—go home." As much as I didn't want him to go, I felt bad he worked all day and then was helping me, especially with a bad leg.

"I know. I don't mind." He smiled and took off his gun belt and set it down on Dyami's ripped couch. He found the trash bag and threw away the glass.

I tried to scrub the blood off the floor from the dead pig as best I could and decided it was going to take more than scrubbing to get the stains out.

Tucker stayed with me until all that was left was the blood stains and the spray paint to clean.

"I'm staying here for the night until we can figure out what to do about all this. I'll talk to my dad in the morning and we'll get it worked out. We need you to be protected if this is him."

"I can't stay here." I had no bed or couch to lie on and I was scared to be there.

"I can take you to Ben and Tanya's?"

"I don't want to go there either. If I tell them what happened, they'll really go off the deep end."

"Grab some of your stuff," he motioned to my bedroom. "You can stay at my house."

I was relieved he asked, but didn't want to intrude. "I can't ask you to do that for me."

"I'd feel a lot better if you did."

How could I say no?

Ms. Brownly

I dreamed again that night, but these dreams were not what I wanted to remember. Through the night I tossed and turned, seeing visions of pigs' heads and myself floating in a river of blood.

The next morning I woke to the sound of a radio and the beeping of a coffee maker. I got up and watched Tucker in his long plaid pajama pants and white T-shirt dancing around to country music on the radio. I smirked at how relaxed he was. I sat at the breakfast bar and watched him cook.

"How'd you sleep?" He poured some coffee into a mug and put it in front of me.

"Not so good." I didn't want to freak him out by telling him I dreamt of death and blood all night. "You?"

He turned and looked at me with a smirk. "Despite the dancing pigs, I slept pretty good." Poor Tucker. He had already been shot, and now he was helping me with the mess of the last year of my life. "I'll help you clean up the rest of Dyami's house, and then we have to figure out what the heck we're going to do with you."

"Sounds fun." I smirked. "Smells great in here." I looked over to the bacon and eggs on the stove.

"I was going to make pancakes, but I found it fitting to have bacon instead." He got two plates down while I chuckled.

"I'll eat anything, even bacon." We both laughed.

I was falling for him. His smile, his warmth, his genuine nature, the way he pushed me out of danger and protected me. Colin was nothing but torment for me, so negative and angry with life and what happened with Lizzy. Tucker was the complete opposite. He went out of his way to make me feel good about myself.

We sat through breakfast talking about country music and which artist was our favorite. He played a few songs for me on his iPod. I felt renewed, alive again. He was the first boy I truly felt I could be myself around, like I could tell him all my secrets. Colin was far from my mind at that point.

Tucker dropped his napkin on the linoleum and we both looked down.

"Tucker!" I pointed to his pant leg which was soaked in blood. "You're bleeding!" I quickly bent down to look at his wound. The bandage had popped off.

"It's nothing—probably just happened in the night when I was sleeping. Doesn't even hurt."

"Right." I quickly grabbed a new bandage off the table and redressed it. "You need to go to the hospital and have the doctor look at it."

"I'll be fine it's no big deal." He helped me back to my feet, his hands grasping mine like he did when I rescued him from Bris.

"Tucker, please? This is serious." I requested.

"Alright, alright! Just, don't look at me like that again." He put his head down and smiled.

"Like what?"

"When you saw the blood you were so worried, like I was going to die. Your eyes—you looked as though you felt the pain I was feeling." He sighed. "I don't want you to worry anymore, about anything."

I let go of his hands still holding mine. I did feel his pain when I touched him.

"I do worry about the people I care about. I'll always worry."

Tucker stood and took my right hand into his. If it got any quieter in the house I was sure he would be able to hear my heart thumping. My shirt hung a little loose and he noticed the scar on my chest. I quickly moved my jacket to cover myself.

"Don't." He stopped my hand. I looked down and a chunk of hair had fallen in my face. He brushed it behind my ear and held his hand to my cheek, rubbing it with his thumb.

I froze, not knowing what to do with my body as his hand made its way on my waist. I could feel my chest beating even harder.

"Maya." He said my name like a secret. "I—"

Donk, donk, donk, donk.

We both jumped and Tucker let me go. He looked through the blinds of his kitchen window and unlocked the deadbolt.

When I turned to see who it was, I sighed. Dale and Ben waltzed into Tucker's kitchen. Why now? I thought. What was Tucker going to tell me?

"What are you doing here?" I stopped Ben from worrying over me and backed away from him.

"Dale called me this morning and let me know what happened. Don't worry, I haven't told Tanya anything yet." I looked at Tucker and realized I should have told him to tell his dad not to tell Ben about the break-in.

"I'm fine, it was nothing. It happened when I was at the station yesterday," I said, trying to downplay it all.

"Nothing? Last time this happened, you were in a coma for two months and lost your memory when you woke up. You almost died. What do you think he's going to do to you this time? He's not going to stop until you're dead."

I leaned back against the counter and folded my arms. If only they knew what really happened that night. "I'm not going to let it happen again. I know he's watching me, I know he wants me dead, but he won't get what he wants...trust me." I sighed heavily and turned away from them.

"You pissed him off even more, Maya. Look at all that's happened in the past week. His empire is falling around him and you're to blame. He won't go lightly on you," Dale stressed.

"How are you going to stop him from pulling a gun on you next time? He ran you off the road and left you for dead. What about this time around?" Tears started to well up in Ben's eyes and I was getting even more annoyed.

"He did. He pulled the trigger. I would be dead right now if his gun hadn't jammed. He tried once and failed. He'll fail again." I stood my ground.

"You never told me he pulled a gun on you." Ben was frantic. Why did I open my mouth? Tucker bent down and put his head in his hands. All three of them were even more distressed.

"Well, we haven't talked about it. I'm just trying to tell you I'm a step ahead of him now," I explained.

"All the more reason why we're placing you in protective custody." Dale was insistent.

"Yeah." I laughed. "I don't think so."

"Maya, hear them out." Tucker tried to intervene.

"All of you stop! I know you care about me, but I'm not going to hide from him." I threw the kitchen towel on the countertop. "After all this time wasted not finding her killer, I'm not going to just walk away. This time I'm going to finish it." I could tell they were angry with me.

The sound of woman's heeled boots clunked on the floor. Five FBI agents walked in through the back door, their smug eyes following mine. Dale walked over and shook one of the female agents' hands.

"What's going on?" I looked to Dale and Ben for an answer.

"Hello, Ms. Colebrook, I'm Agent Jennifer Brownly of the FBI." She shook hands with me. "We need you to come down to the station with us immediately so we can debrief you."

"Debrief me on what?"

"Come along now. We just need to ask you some questions is all." After I got dressed, I reluctantly followed her out, knowing it was useless fighting her. Did Dale call them? My time wasn't up yet. I still had a few days left before he said he was going to call. I turned around and looked at Tucker, who was just as confused as I was. Ben reassured me he'd be there soon with his lawyer.

Why did I need a lawyer? Why was I in trouble?

Agent Brownly's hair hung just above her shoulders and bobbed up and down as she walked into the interrogation room. She wore no makeup, but didn't need any besides under her eyes to hide the sleeplessness like I always had. Her skinny forty-year-old body slid in the chair in front of me while another agent took notes. Ben's lawyer warned me not to give too much detail about anything that happened in the recent week.

"I've only had a few hours to review your notes from the trafficking, and your journal, but we have found you are very thorough." The woman set my butterfly journal on the table. I grabbed hold of the book which filled my deepest thoughts.

"This is my personal journal!" I was angry.

"Yes, and a good read, too." Her pale skin looked translucent in the light. "We didn't mean to intrude on your privacy, but I'm sure you can understand the severity of this case."

"I get it. I want to help, but you could have just asked. What do you want with me, anyway?" I put my journal in my lap.

"How did you know about the girls in the first hotel? Dale tells us you had a vision. I don't doubt this, but I believe you know more than what you're telling him."

"Tucker and I were taking a drive and stopped to get gas when I saw Nicole reach her hand out through the fence. I then heard a man's voice calling her back and he dragged her inside the hotel," I explained.

"You saw one girl, but knew there was more than one?" Agent Brownly's eyes glared up at me.

"I just felt like something was wrong and Dale came to check on it. That's when they discovered the other two girls. That's as simple as it gets."

"This Lizzy girl, what's the story on her? How does she relate to all of this?"

"My friend was murdered a little over a year ago. I was hoping for a connection, but I don't think there's any." I wanted her off Lizzy's case and far away from my journal.

"Well, I believe there is, which is why you're so involved. We'll take that back now." She reached for my journal and I handed it to her. "I want my analysts to go through it. There might be a clue."

"I doubt that, but read away." She had already read through the most intimate parts of my life, what were a few more people?

"This friend of yours, you say she was murdered? Yet, I've read her file. Her body was never found?" she reminded me.

"No, it wasn't. But she's dead, do you get that?" I was getting fired up when Ben's lawyer calmed me down quickly before I said too much. "Her body wasn't found, but I know she's dead."

"And these so-called visions you write about in your journals, these all relate to Lizzy?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Interesting. I do have to say you've made someone very mad. I saw your friend's house and all the blood. A pig's head? What's the symbolism of this?" Did Dale tell her about the break-in?

"I don't know. I think because I'm working with the police." I really didn't know the significance of the pig in both instances.

"Yes, well, we do get called pigs often, don't we?" She snorted, although she wasn't funny to me. "There's one more thing before I can let you go." She slid a piece of paper across the table.

"What's this?" I read through the list of names.

"Before Damien Santos mysteriously died, his lawyer was able to retrieve a list of all his known dealers in hopes the judge would give him less of a sentence. Do you recognize anyone's name on here?"

I read the list over and stopped at one. "No," I lied. "I don't know who any of these people are."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"I'm sure."

"Alright then, Ms. Colebrook, you're free to go. Stay close; we might have more questions for you. Enjoy your Christmas festivities if we don't see each other." I nodded my head and bolted out the doors. I wanted far away from her and her questions.

Everyone stared at me as I walked out, wondering what the FBI wanted with me. Tucker stopped me before I could go any farther.

"Hey, come here." He pulled me in closer; my heart raced, remembering how close we were earlier. "My dad didn't call them. They saw the news, which is why they're here."

"I figured that." I looked over to Ben and Dale talking at Eric's desk. Tucker let go of my arm. "I need you." I stumbled on my words. "I mean..." I shook my head, smiling. "I need your help."

Tucker chuckled, "Anything for you, Maya."

While Dale and the FBI agents were preoccupied, Tucker and I searched his computer database for the name that caught my eye from Damien's list.

Todd Lovelock.

"He's the drug dealer Lizzy knew," I said quietly.

"Here, I have an address." He pointed to the screen. I looked at Todd's mugshot. I didn't know him. His long black hair covered his forehead and his eyes looked tired—like the person he was becoming wasn't who he wanted to be. "He's just up the road. Let's go." Tucker threw his jacket on as Dale stopped us.

"Where are you going?" He folded his arms.

"We're just going to grab a bite to eat. We'll be back," he said loud enough for one of the FBI agents to hear. "We may or may not be back with a burger for you, though. Just depends if you can clear a room for us to eat." He motioned to the FBI agents.

"Right. How much time will it take for that burger to be made?" Dale raised his eyebrows.

"About thirty minutes. Maybe longer if the burger place is slow," Tucker responded.

"Bring that burger back; I'll make sure nobody spoils anything." He winked at me. Tucker pulled my arm in and we headed for his squad car.

"Was that some kind of code you two have?" I laughed.

"Yeah, it was his idea. He's getting better at the texting too. He's not sure what LOL means yet, but we're working on it." He chuckled. "Now let's get out of here before one of those agents starts following us."

Todd Lovelock

We waited outside 397 Tanner Drive for Todd to appear; his car was parked in the driveway of his friend's house—another dealer.

"So, what's the plan?" Tucker asked while we waited.

"He has a prior warrant for assaulting an officer, bring him in for that."

"You want me to get this kid fired up so he'll assault me? I'm still not fully healed, you know." He grinned.

"It doesn't have to stick; just put him in the backseat. I'll chase him down if he runs," I ordered him.

Todd emerged from the house and unlocked his car.

Tucker chuckled when I pushed his arm to get out of the car. "Alright, boss lady, chill." He winked at me and got out making his arrest without an altercation. Todd was scared when he got in the backseat. He knew who I was.

When we got to the station, Tucker immediately took him into the interrogation room and took off his cuffs. Agent Brownly and her team were gone, thanks to Dale.

Todd was scared, rubbing his wrists and legs constantly, like he was nervous. I sat there staring at him for some time, waiting for him to get to the cracking point.

He was wearing a torn up jacket and a black ball cap with the Steelers logo. His scrawny body wasn't any taller than mine and he looked strung out on something.

"Do you know why you're being questioned?" Dale asked. Todd shook his head no. "Did you know this girl?" He pulled out a picture of Lizzy when she was alive. Todd's eyes started to look around the room. I watched him squirm some more and knew he was hiding something.

"You knew her. You liked her because she was nice to you in school." I was getting information from Lizzy now. She knew him and often talked to him during study period in the library. They both had Auto class together and he sat next to her. The visions were making sense to me.

"You'd help her with her homework—math, right?" I asked. Todd's eyes filled with fright. "But you didn't hurt her." He shook his head no. "You know who did, don't you?"

He put his head in his hands and started to cry. Dale and Tucker looked at me like I was a genius.

"I didn't know she was going to get hurt. I didn't." Todd started banging his hands against the table.

"Who hurt her, Todd?" I tried to calm his heart by talking gently. He was getting too frustrated and I needed him composed or I'd blow the whole thing. "Todd? Who hurt her?"

He shook his head no. "I don't know," he screamed, scared of what would happen to him. He went for the door, but Tucker stopped him.

"Todd, please? You can help her now if you just tell me who hurt her. You know who did it."

He shook his head no again. He was closing himself off to me. I was so close, but he was protecting someone he loved—someone who was like a father to him.

"What happened to your parents?"

He looked up at me with a spiteful face. "You quit asking me questions—I want a lawyer," he demanded.

My heart sank. Tucker and Dale looked at one another. They could jeopardize the whole case if they denied him a lawyer. I sighed and looked at Todd in the eyes. A vision came to me—he stood in a barn, looking at Lizzy; she was crying in a cage. He saw her minutes before she died.

"Please, Todd? She was scared, wasn't she? You were going to help her. You were going to get her out of there, weren't you?"

He was hysterical. Tucker tried to get me to stop talking to him, but I was seconds away from getting it out of him.

"I came back and she was gone. He had already taken her. I was going to get her out of there—I was. I didn't want him to hurt her, not like the other girls." He sobbed. "I couldn't stop him."

"Who? Who hurt her?" I was begging now.

"He'll kill me, just like he tried to kill you. You're next!" His voice wasn't his—a demon spoke for him now. Todd slammed his head against the table; trying to hurt himself before whoever he was scared of got to him first.

Tucker stopped him and cuffed his hands behind the chair so he couldn't hurt himself anymore. "I want a lawyer—now!" he demanded. He wasn't going to talk to me anymore. He wasn't going to put his life at risk for anyone.

Todd didn't call a lawyer to bail him out so he stayed in jail for "assaulting" Tucker. It wouldn't stick for more than a day. I needed him to talk.

Dale had Tucker busy with Eric doing research on Todd's background when I decided to sneak down to the holding cell while no one was around.

He stood up and yelled, "I told you I'm not going to talk to you unless my lawyer is here! I know my rights." He paced back and forth.

"Lizzy's here with us right now. She's standing right beside me."

Todd looked to my left and then to my right. He couldn't see her, but she was there, standing with blood dripping from her white nightgown, staring at him.

"You're lying." His face started to turn red with anger. "She's dead. She's gone forever! You're just trying to scare me."

"No, Todd. She really is here. And yes, she is gone, but her soul is still here. She wants to be free of her death, but she can't. Not until we find her murderer. You know who it is."

I got closer, whispering through the bars, "Why don't you help her? Why don't you tell me what she was hiding from me? Why she kept me from knowing about you?"

He looked at me and sat back down, holding his head in his hands. "Why? Why do you want to know? She's dead, alright? She's gone; leave it be!" The lights started to flicker above his head. Lizzy was reaching out for him, trying to show she really was there—just like she did to me that night in my art class.

"I can't. Don't you see? She's haunting you just as she's haunting me. She wants to be found, she wants to be free. Won't you help her?" I sat down in a chair next to his cell and held onto the bars, persuading him to tell me anything.

"She knew I was running coke for Damien Santos and she wanted in on the money too. I gave her a route and she made 500 bucks a week." He was confiding in me something that was hard to hear. I knew Lizzy, inside and out, but couldn't understand why she would be involved with drugs of all things. There were other ways to make money fast, like asking me for help.

"Why did she need the money? Did she tell you?"

"She was trying to get emancipated. She didn't want to live at her foster house anymore. Something about her sister and wanting to protect her."

"What else?"

"That's all she told me." He was done talking.

I left Todd to his own demons and went to the bathroom to cool off. I screamed at Lizzy in anger. She hid from me now, ashamed of what she did. The months I had spent after her death trying to find the truth, all led to one thing—I never really knew my best friend like I thought I did. She lied to me for so long, but even though I knew the truth now, I still didn't know the why. What did I do to make her not want to come to me for help?

Another Body

I went back upstairs to where Tucker and Dale were finding more information on Todd. His mother died of a rare lung disease, and shortly after, his father died from colon cancer when he was only nine-years-old. He was put in a foster home until a family member picked him up. A Mr. Thomas Frankfurt was his legal guardian; Todd's uncle. I looked at Tucker and his eyes went wide.

"Frankfurt?" Tucker was fuming. "He's the killer, right?" He looked at me and I shook my head like I didn't know. "Lizzy went to him, I'm sure Todd told her to, and that's when he made his move. He kidnapped and killed her."

I wasn't convinced Mr. Frankfurt was capable of murder. He was the ladies' man with a fetish for underage teenagers, but not a killer. "I'm not getting the whole story. It's not making sense to me. Mr. Frankfurt is involved, he knows what happened to Lizzy, but I don't think he killed her." I tried to make sense of it.

"Then we better bring him in for questioning," Dale said.

Was this it? Was this the finale? Did I actually find Lizzy's killer?

Dale drove Tucker and I to Mr. Frankfurt's home located in the richest part of town high on a hill overlooking the valley. Dale had his officers circle the house. He rang the doorbell and we waited. Something wasn't right inside. A vision came to me of two men arguing and then a gunshot.

"He's dead." I looked around the outside of the house.

"What?" Dale turned to look at me.

"He was murdered. He's in his study." I walked over to a broken window on the side of the house and pointed to it. "Whoever killed him threw a rock through the window to distract him and he entered the house and put a bullet in his head."

Dale didn't take any chances and reached for his gun. The other officers followed his lead.

I stayed outside waiting until Tucker came out and assured me it was clear to come in. "I really don't know how you do it, but you're right on this one too." Tucker led me inside.

"This was left next to him." Dale read a confession letter. Frankfurt claimed to have been the one to set up the trafficking and admitted to killing Lizzy. How convenient, I thought. The shadow man thought he was so clever.

"Did he do it?" Dale asked.

"No. He met with her the day she was murdered, but didn't kill her. He called her in after his secretary left for the day and told her he needed the money sooner. She called Todd and asked for another run. Whoever killed her found out from Todd that Lizzy was doing a run that night."

"The same guy who did this?" Dale pointed to Mr. Frankfurt's body.

"Yes." I walked around Frankfurt's desk to look for any clues. His blood was dry on the wall from his head wound. I looked down at his limp body and noticed a tattoo on the back of his neck. "Dale." I got his attention.

"That's interesting." Dale used his glove to pull down Mr. Frankfurt's T-shirt at the collar, and then lifted his shirt to get a better look. A red star covered most of his back as we carefully lifted his shirt away from his body. "Do you know what this is?"

"I've seen this before. There's a cult that uses this symbol. It's a pentagram," Eric said, studying the tattoo. "He must be a devil worshipper."

"Cult? What was this guy into?" Dale asked.

I looked around the house at his expensive art gallery collection. Some famous duplicate paintings I recognized from art class I took in Denver. His extensive library was full of law books. I sifted through his life as I walked the halls and looked in each bedroom. One in particular caught my eye.

After Tucker and Eric busted through the locked doors, we all were hit with disgust. Pornographic material filled the room; pictures of girls, some younger than ten, lined the walls. Videotapes and a camcorder sat in the closet.

"I bet we're going to find girls they use in the sex ring on those tapes." Dale pointed to the stack of VHSs and walked through the room, looking at the evidence piled against Mr. Frankfurt. He shook his head with repulsion.

A vision came to me. Lizzy and Frankfurt were talking in his office. He locked his door and put a video camera on his desk—the same recorder on a stand in the room.

"Frankfurt didn't just call her in that night to discuss the money she owed. He wanted her to have sex with him and he was going to record it. He was going to waive his fee if she did." I felt like throwing up. Tucker grabbed my arm. "He threatened if she told anyone what he wanted her to do, he'd do something bad to that person." This is why Lizzy wouldn't tell me about any of it; she was afraid Frankfurt would hurt me or anyone else she told.

"But they never...?" Tucker asked.

"No, this is why she went on a drug run that night for Todd. She was going to get the money another way."

"I hate to do this to you, Maya, but I need to call the FBI on this one. If those tapes are what I think they are after what you just told me, this is way over our head; way over just Lizzy's case." I understood what he had to do. "I think it's best you not be here when Agent Brownly comes. You're already too involved for not being involved. I'm sorry."

Tucker tried to argue with his dad, but I stopped him. Tucker and I left quickly before Agent Brownly and her team of hard knocks showed up. I didn't want to deal with her so I was happy to leave.

"I'm sorry about all this, Maya. I know you must be mad you can't be there." Tucker drove the long way to town in case we ran into the FBI on the main road.

"Your dad is just trying to protect me. Besides, we still have Todd, don't we?"

Tucker smiled and nodded. "Yes we do. If Todd knows his uncle is dead, maybe he won't be scared to talk to us anymore."

"Exactly."

"Let's get some burgers and give Todd a little more time to think things through," he suggested.

"That's not code for anything, right?"

"That's code for I'm hungry and we're getting some dinner." He pulled up to the drive-in and I laughed.

"Alright." We smiled at one another. I was glad to have Tucker there as my support. He was so good at keeping me focused.

Tucker handed me a burger and fries and I munched slowly. I was off in la-la land thinking of what to say to Todd.

"I just thought for a minute we finally had him, but it's still not over. I'm just so tired of constantly looking over my shoulder. I want it to be over with." I was mentally, physically, emotionally exhausted from everything.

Lizzy had waited too long to be free. Tucker put his arm around me, realizing I was shivering from the frosty night. I remembered the night Colin held me like this, but Tucker's hold was different, more sincere than Colin's.

"Everything happens for a reason, as hard as that may be to realize. We were all meant to be here, for Lizzy. It will come to an end and she will be able to rest. And you will too, until the next case." He nudged me.

"Thank you, I needed to hear that."

His warmth kept me positive and I rested my head on his shoulder. We stayed like that for some time until Tucker's phone went off. He stood up and smiled at me and answered it.

I admired him for a moment while he talked. His hands, strong, fierce; his fingers, long like they could play a twelve-string guitar like it was nothing. I pictured him as a country singer, like my Tim McGraw, sitting on his porch, his hat tilted down just enough to cover his wayward eyes, strumming his guitar, singing a soft melody. I'd be summoned to sleep by his fingers gliding across the frets and his deep, low voice humming away until I was in dreamland again.

He hung up his phone, startling me from my fantasy. "That was my dad. He said the FBI is there and they need some extra hands. Fred is coming to stand guard outside Dyami's until we're done. Is that alright?"

"Of course, just text me so I know what's going on over there."

"Sure. I'll pick you up early tomorrow morning and we'll get in to talk to Todd before anyone else. Sound good?" He helped me to the squad car.

I nodded yes.

"Should I go back to Dyami's?" I completely forgot about the broken lock and his house in ruins.

"Just wait." He smirked.

As we pulled up to Dyami's he handed me a new set of keys.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Let's go inside." He raised his eyebrows. "Maybe you'll let me take the Mustang for two spins instead of just one?" he teased.

"I don't know if you can drive stick yet." I pointed down to his leg as he limped up the stairs.

"Probably not." His eyes sparkled like they always did. "We'll get the guy tomorrow. I just have that feeling." Tucker stood facing me.

"I must be rubbing off on you." We smiled at each other and I unlocked the door—the lock fixed.

"I've definitely learned to listen to my instincts better since meeting you."

"Instincts huh? That's a good start." I looked down, trying not to become weak at the knees by staring into his eyes too long. He played with his phone. Was he nervous too?

I walked in and turned the kitchen light on—the house was clean, spotless, immaculate. I turned to look at him.

"Did you...?"

"Well, Ben knew what happened and when he told Tanya, she insisted Dyami not have to worry about it when he got back. I hired some professional cleaners to take care of the bedroom mess. It's all done."

"Thank you!" I hugged him. His arms reached around me, holding me tight. I could hear him take a deep breath in. I was breathing him in too. Sweet peaches and lavender. I slowly let my hands down.

"You have everything?" He made sure I had my phone and pepper spray Ben made me carry.

I nodded my head. "Yeah." We were finding an excuse not to say goodnight to one another.

"So you sure you're okay?"

"Yes." I wasn't. I wanted him. Tell me a secret, will you?

"Good." He was looking down at the ground and then back up at me a few times, his smile so contagious. My heart beat was clapping.

"Call me if you need anything."

I nodded.

"Fred will be out on watch." He shook his head and laughed. "I already told you that."

"Thanks." I giggled.

"But I'm only a couple minutes away, so I can be here quick."

"Okay." I couldn't let him go, not yet. I wasn't done savoring him.

"See you tomorrow?" He smiled. I wanted him to stay so we could finish the moment we had earlier at his house. Would it lead to something more?

"Tomorrow." I smiled.

He slowly went down the steps while I waved goodbye to him. He turned one last time before getting in the squad car and watched me. I couldn't stop smiling.

"Tomorrow, right?" he yelled.

"Tomorrow." I chuckled.

A little note dangled on the fridge: Because we love you and because we are family. Forever. Ben & Tanya

I looked around more. I sat down on the couch that had been torn the last time I saw it and admired the new upholstery. Fred pulled up and parked out front. I waved to him and shut the living room light off to go to bed.

I grabbed my phone out of my bag and texted Tanya telling them thank you for what they did and that I loved them. Then I scrolled through my directory and started to pace from the kitchen to the bedroom.

Tucker's name kept popping up and I badly wanted to hit call to have him come back, but I was scared. What if he didn't want me? I set my phone on the nightstand. What was I thinking; of course he wouldn't want me. We were friends, nothing more.

I took off my jacket and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. The warm water felt good and I started to unwind. All I could see was Tucker's smile in my mind. I felt good inside and longed for Tucker to be waiting for me in my bed when I finished getting ready. The butterflies continued to flutter inside my stomach as I thought of his hand touching my cheek.

I patted my face dry and looked up to the mirror. The burn from the demon's hands around my neck was starting to fade. I put some ointment on it and hoped it would go away soon. When I looked back at myself in the mirror, a demonic figure stood behind me, the red glow around his body hiding his face.

The shadow man.

Shadow Man

The hammering of my head woke me. My eyes slowly opened to see nothing but darkness. I wasn't dreaming; I was in the backseat of a loud diesel truck. What happened at the house? The shadow man stood behind me, and then it all was blank. How long was I unconscious for? Panic set in and I couldn't get enough air.

The man in the front seat hummed along to the music on the radio and smoked a cigarette, the smell making me nauseous. I was here before, in my nightmares; the same way Lizzy was taken. The shadow man, just inches from me, still just a dark figure in the night.

Breathe. Breathe. I inhaled and calmed my heartrate. I needed to stay sharp; I knew what was coming next. Lizzy was there with me; I could feel her banging on the window of the truck and tugging at the door handle, trying to get it to open. It's alright, I reassured her.

My legs were bare—where were my pants? I touched my chest and ran my hand along my body—I was in a smooth dress, no shoes. The shadow man had put Lizzy in a similar outfit before she died, his way of keeping her innocent—like a virgin bride on her wedding night, a sick and twisted delusion; his number one fantasy. I still had on the necklace Dyami gave me. I clenched it tightly in my hands.

I tried to see if there were streetlights, in hopes I was still in town, but there was nothing but the sound of a dirt road under the mud tires of the truck and darkness out the tinted windows. This person was taking me to the middle of nowhere. My body would not be found, my existence would be nothing, and I would find my way to Heaven with Lizzy. I prepared myself for death.

He was driving erratically like he was drunk, jolting my body back and forth against the bench seat. I could feel blood coming from the right side of my forehead where I was hit from his blow when he knocked me out.

I thought of Tucker and how I would never see him again and never have the chance to be with him the way I wanted to. If only I asked him to stay. I would never again feel the warmth of him. All I could do now was wait—wait for the moment my life would be taken from me, and I prayed I could block out the pain somehow.

The truck slowed down and I could feel the brakes hitting hard as he came to a complete stop. I quickly shut my eyes when the man turned around to look at me, then the truck door slammed shut. I heard faint footsteps on snow and gravel, crunching with every inch as he got closer to my door. I was going to make a run for it. As soon as he opened the door I would punch him in the gut—just as I learned in self-defense class, and make my way back home. I waited.

Pop.

The cold barrel touched my head. I had no time to react; his finger was on the trigger and I knew I'd be dead if I made my move. The light from the red barn made a shadow on his face, the heat from his breath causing clouds around him in the frigid air. He coaxed me out of the backseat and I stumbled and fell to the ground, still woozy from the bumpy ride.

I made out the tall figure in the darkness. Why didn't I see this before? All the times I saw him, the way he looked at me up and down like I was something to be ravished.

"You son of a—" I went after him, but my knees were still weak and I fell to the snowy ground. He picked me up, laughing.

The mayor was complacent with himself. "What? You didn't see this coming, did you? All this time and you never once suspected me." He laughed again. He knew I'd know it was him if he let me shake his hand. His plan was flawless. No one would ever suspect he was the one behind the sex trafficking, the drug deals, Lizzy's murder. His black leather gloves he wore when he shot Mr. Frankfurt. Why didn't I see this?

The Steeler's hat Todd wore—the same hat Mayor Ward wore in my nightmare. All of the evidence was right there in front of me.

"That's how you got the highway to pass." I said out loud. "You and Frankfurt were in this together, weren't you?"

"Very good, Maya." He clapped his hands together, his gun still pointed at me. "That's exactly what happened. I was the one who came up with the highway plan, but it was Frankfurt's idea to set the girls up in the hotels. A perfect cover-up, right?" He laughed. "My buddy Frankfurt's going to take the entire fall for us, unfortunately for him. He was a good friend, but not very bright. I knew I had to kill him when I saw you and the sheriff in his office that day. Just like I knew I had to kill you."

Mr. Ward grabbed my hair, pulling at the scab that started to form on my head, making it bleed all over again, and tossed me in the barn, my bare feet stumbling over straw lining the floor. I heard sobbing, but couldn't get my eyes to adjust to the bright fluorescent lights hanging from above. He pushed me into a chain link cage—no taller than me, and locked the door. "I'll be right back." His eyes grew wide, anticipating his return, his words taunting me.

My head was spinning and I couldn't breathe. I threw up in the corner, the vertigo making my stomach churn. The cries and sobbing got louder.

A river of blood ran through the cage and evil spirits were here surrounding this man, egging him on to hurt these girls. I could feel the pain they were in, girls gone from this place, other girls that had been murdered by Mr. Ward, Lizzy's pain. I plugged my ears and tried to regain my focus. A couple minutes later I could see. There were several teenage girls locked up like the animals at the zoo, some crying, some staring off into space, some looking at me through the holes of the gates that separated the two cages. I crawled over to them, blinking heavily, and they all shied away from me. I reached through the other side and one girl grabbed my hand.

"It's alright." They were all wearing white lace nightgowns full of dirt smudges. I looked down at myself—wearing the same thing, white bra and panties to match. After he knocked me out he dressed me, preparing me for his ritual. He took his time planning this night. When he broke into Dyami's home he not only had time to leave me the stuck pig's head, but he also took the time to go through my drawers—finding my size underwear. He went to the department store, sifting through the bra aisle, trying to find the perfect one. Telling the clerk it was for his wife. I felt sick knowing his hands were violating me—who knew what he did while I was unconscious.

One of the girls kissed my hand, crying. She was praying for my soul to be saved from the devil that was hurting her and the rest of the six girls who were locked up. I had to be strong for them, even though my time here was limited. This is where Lizzy's life was taken. This is where both our destinies would intertwine. I waited with the girls; I waited a long time for my sentence to come.

The barn door opened and the girls all scurried back into a corner, trying to stay quiet. The rattle of a chain hit the cages as he walked closer and closer to me. Clink. Clink. Clink. My head pounded with it.

He smiled and laughed as he taunted the girls, all of them pleading for him to stop. I stood up, staring at him right in the eyes just as Lizzy had done. His widow's peak—his long skinny nose, all of it I had drawn from my nightmares. His hair I drew with #3H, light gray on top of the black. His eyes—now I knew what his eyes were like. Not glassy like I had drawn for so long, but red with desire—the fire from Hell burning.

I wasn't scared; I wasn't going to let him take anything from me. Blood soaked part of his Italian-made white shirt. Whose blood it was I didn't know. A few spurts stained his collar, but his shiny shoes were clean, like the night his glossy boots approached me after he ran me off the road. The door hinge opened and he raised his gun and forced me to get closer to him. Some of the girls were crying, "No, no, no" as he put thick metal cuffs, which were attached to chains, around my wrists. They were heavy and I had a hard time holding my hands up.

This was it. I couldn't escape these chains. He forced himself behind me, pressing his body against my back. He held a syringe to my neck full of a yellow liquid. He stopped and looked at the poison. "No." He tossed the needle down. "I want you to feel everything I'm about to do to you. I'm going to hear you scream." His hand reached toward my neck, choking me as he grabbed tighter. I coughed when he let go. He pushed me ahead of him to walk.

A few girls reached for my legs as we walked past them. He kicked the cage and they all fell back.

"It'll be alright," I told them. Their eyes lit up with what little hope they could find within themselves. He wasn't going to take my body; he would have to kill me first.

The chains dangled from the roof, clanging as they rocked back and forth to the wind coming in from the cracks in the wood. He forced my hands up as he connected the two chains together, leaving me hanging, my toes barely able to touch the ground.

His gun made a clunk noise as he set it on the table in front of me. He took off his gray suit jacket and laid it carefully on the back of a chair next to a workbench. He lit a match and took the flame to several black candles on the table, and spoke in devil's tongue. His head lowered, worshiping the evil inside him. I watched the black flames, growing with power, feeding off his ascendency.

I looked down, my toes moving the straw below me, revealing red lines. What was drawn under the straw? I tried to follow the mayor by turning my body, but he was out of sight. He was grabbing his first weapon of choice. I smelled the cigarette smoke; he walked back into view and blew smoke into the girls' faces.

"Now, my children, it's time for lesson one." He sat his burning cigarette bud down on the edge of the table. I focused on the smoke rising from the end, trying to block out what I knew was coming.

He held the crowbar up to my eyes and without hesitation it met my stomach. The air from my body escaped my lungs, the force hitting my once bruised ribs, bringing back the very pain that I experienced not so long ago.

"If you disobey me, this is what happens. Do you hear me?" Mr. Ward screamed at the girls as they begged him to stop. He hit me again. This time I was able to cough.

He ripped the top of the nightgown, exposing my scar. His slimy wet hand made its way down my chest.

"What a pity. Perfect breasts, but nobody's going to pay for a scarred-up body. That doesn't matter, though. You'll be dead by morning," his hot breath whispered in my ear. The air slowly started to fill my lungs again. I watched as his shiny shoes danced along the floor back over to his table full of torture tools.

"Now for lesson two."

The pocketknife opened quickly as he exposed it to the girls in the cage. They hid their faces in the corner. "Some men pay good money to have you. That means they're your God. You let them do whatever they want to you."

His right hand held his knife. He smiled. I tried to squirm away from him, but he taunted me as he waved the knife back and forth. The sharp blade cut through the nightgown, cutting my skin as he glided it down to my naval. I tried not to move. Every time my body swayed forward, the knife cut deeper. His left hand followed the trail of blood. He licked his hand, his lips sampling me—satisfaction.

"Does that hurt?"

A flash of the night he murdered Lizzy—he asked her the same thing.

He reached for my hair, pulling my head back and straining my neck. He held the knife to my throbbing vein and pressed down hard, ripping a tiny hole for blood to come out.

"Some men like to play rough. You take it!" He slapped me across the face and punched me in the stomach again, his arm muscles flexing strong under his shirt. I wasn't sure how much more my body could withstand.

"Lesson three."

I fell to the floor as he disconnected the chains, my left ankle twisting in the fall, sending a shooting spark to my knee. I didn't scream. Don't scream, Maya.

"You try to run, I'll always find you."

I tried to get up, but he kicked my side, pushing me over as I held onto my stomach. I was coughing up blood now. My ears started to ring and the room spun. He wasn't through with his lesson yet.

I looked up to see three sets of bare feet standing in front of me. Black dirt, worms, the smell of rotting flesh—their bodies all decaying. Lizzy and the other two girls Mr. Ward murdered, the bodies we found at the second hotel, were standing near us. Lizzy stared down at me, her face still bloody and bruised, the chains wrapped around her wrists. I would be joining them soon. Was she coming for me?

He got down on his knees in front of my head, the breath of liquor staining the air. "I will make you scream, girl," he whispered. "Just like you did that night so many years ago."

I couldn't speak—I panted instead, trying to get away from his hold as he grabbed my face, his hand crushing my cheekbones.

"You really don't remember me, do you?" He laughed.

I didn't know who he was; what was he talking about?

"Oh, Maya, Maya, Maya." He shook his head then kissed my cheek as he pushed me back down. "How do you think you got that burn around your neck? Don't you remember the demon your parents summoned?" From his pocket he exposed his matchbook, black background with red lettering.

He lit a match, the fire making his eyes glow.

"No!" I held my head. The memories I had lost of my parents, of my childhood, returned. The match sending me back in time. My parents' faces—I did have my dad's nose, my mother's lips.

He threw his matchbook on the ground for me to look at. "So, it's all coming back to you then?"

Black Magic—the name of his favorite casino in Nevada—the "I" in Magic forming a flame. He told me about it that night while he whispered in my ear what sadistic things he wanted to do to me—to my twelve-year-old body. The night my parents worshipped the devil and called upon the demon to kill me.

"I'm surprised, actually. I saw you all those times in the last few weeks, and when you looked at me, there was nothing! Not even a slight glimpse of recognition. I was going to get away with those girls' deaths, but you just had to keep digging."

"No—"

"You see, my organization didn't want me to touch you—you're special. The one person who can destroy us," he laughed. "Like you could destroy the largest army this world has ever seen? Ha! They want you alive." His nostrils enlarged while he shook his head. "But I just can't let that happen."

"What?" My voice cracked. Doctor Rivera—what she said about me being the one. Did she know something?

"I'd love to tell you who our organization is, but what's the point? You'll be dead soon. That's my little gift back—you'll never know who's really after you and who wants your spirit." He threw the match on the ground, stomping on it with his shoe. "You'd be surprised—you really would if you knew. I can just picture the look on your face."

I tried getting away from him as he stood back up.

"But I'm going to enjoy this a whole lot more. You see Maya, you're like a fish out of water, and I own the water. Every time you try to jump back in, I kick you back. You have to pay for the damage you've caused." He slid his hand up my right leg. I squirmed, kicking away from him until I was against the barn wall, my left ankle already starting to swell.

He pulled my legs into him so he was on top of me again. I kicked him with my right leg and spit in his face.

"You think you're funny, don't you? Let me tell you something right now—nobody messes with me. Nobody! Especially some little girl who goes snooping in other people's business. You should have been dead that night!" His demon voice echoed against the tall roof. The demon inside him was angry; craving for me to take my last breath.

I recognized the figure of his body now. The night my parents made me, their twelve-year-old daughter, choose between good or evil. Mr. Ward was the one who lit the match—the glow pulsating in his eyes. I should have been dead that night, but something saved me.

I tried to reach up for Lizzy, but the girls moved closer to him, their eyes fixed to what he was doing. I waited for a siren, or even the sound of a car in the distance, my Sunshine, but nothing. Nobody was coming to save me this time. I was going to die tonight and the girls who were locked up would lose their hope of ever getting home.

"That Lizzy girl was just like you—hardheaded and stubborn. That's why I had to kill her. It was too bad, too, because she had the perfect body, the perfect face. She was a virgin too. She would have made me a lot of money." He stumbled on the hard ground.

"Why'd you...kill those two girls at the hotel—" My neck was stretched out while he grabbed my hair tighter.

"They were sick. Customers complained they smelled. I disposed of them like I'm going to dispose of you. As for Lizzy...well, she was just too sweet to pass up. I saw her in Frankfurt's office one day and I knew I had to have her." He laughed. "Frankfurt told me she was one of Todd's dealers, the perfect alibi. I picked her up one night...and well, I wrecked her." He laughed louder. "Oh, did I enjoy it. Like I'm going enjoy breaking you in."

"You'll never break me." My words were weak.

"What did you just say?" He got angry.

I started to laugh. Something inside of me was growing, giving me the strength I needed.

"That's right." My words got louder. "You're never going to break me." My laugh escalated, my body moving with the motion, ignoring the pain from another blow. I tried to roll myself over to sit up, but he slapped me, pushing me back to the hard ground.

"Oh, I'm gonna break you girl, I'm gonna beat you dead is what I'm gonna do. Not before I have my way with you first." His knife ripped the rest of my nightgown open, my blood soaking through, making it no longer white.

He took off his belt and threw it toward the girls in the cage. He stopped and looked at his watch.

"Would you look at that, it's 11:00 PM. I think your friend died about this time. What a happy coincidence, don't you think?"

He kicked me one last time to ensure I wasn't moving. He walked over to the table behind us and dug around for another one of his torture tools.

11:11 PM—my nightmares were complete. This was not only the time Lizzy died, but also the time I'd be taken from the Earth.

He was cussing as he searched for his next weapon. When he found it he walked over to a small radio sitting on a shelf. He turned it up loud, singing at the top of his lungs along with the words. This would help him enjoy taking my body.

"Now for lesson four. This one's my favorite." He started to unbutton his jeans as he went to lie on top of me.

The three girls hovered around him. He stood and turned his body around in a circle. He could see them too. "What? What is this?" He dropped his tool and tried to get away from them, but they followed his every step, keeping him enclosed in their trap. I watched as he fell to his knees, holding his head.

"Stop! Stop screaming!" He could hear their screams in unison, taking away his concentration. He scrambled on the ground, getting closer to me, reaching for his knife. I couldn't move.

Lizzy's spirit picked up my necklace from the ground and held it up so he could see it.

"No! Don't touch me with that!" he yelled. His skin burned, steam scorching his chest as she touched him with it. "No! Stop!"

He looked at me, his eyes wide with fear. "What is happening to me? What? What are they doing to me?" He screamed for help. He got back to his knees and held his head again. His eyes started to turn red, his mouth opened as steam started to fill his airways. The girls stood around him, looking down at his glowing body. Fire rose from his neck to his mouth and then to his eyes as he screeched in pain.

His whole body was immersed in flames. He ran to the door and from outside I listened, waited, and faded away as Mr. Ward met his creator. The girls had their revenge.

Darkness

The first rays of sunlight peeked through the windows, slowly rising, slowly shining light to my face. Mr. Ward was dragged to Hell at some time during the night—the devil roaring as he welcomed one more of his citizens. He'd fit nicely in with the others—in the lake of fire—his thirst being quenched by more fire and molten lava.

First light was always the coldest, and my body began to slowly shut down. The blood from my hands and arms had been cut off all night from the tight cuffs around them. I tried to keep my heart warm by curling my legs up into my stomach, but I was in too much pain. My half-naked body had been exposed all night to the elements—the cold sweep of air continuously flowing through the gaps in the walls.

Dyami's necklace and the girls saved me. I survived Mr. Ward, but I wasn't going to survive his beating. My body had been tortured too many times and I knew this was the finale I had been waiting for. The girls were asleep, all huddled together with their hands out of the cage reaching for me. I hoped Dale would find them in time, before someone else came to take them away.

I thought of Tucker and his smile. I imagined he was my Sunshine, his soft hands guiding me out of the darkness. The ocean. The waterfall. The salty air, his body next to mine, kissing my neck, then my lips. I could taste him, sweet peaches, succulent strawberries, the smell of honeysuckle, lavender, all in one.

I felt the spray of the ocean waves hitting my face. I was alone—Tucker was on the beach, waving his hands, as if he was saying goodbye. I tried to wave back, but my arms stayed under the water, treading—I was becoming weak. Ben, Tanya, Colin, Stacey, all were waving from the sand. "Maya!" they cried out, their hands frantic. I couldn't tell if they were trying to warn me of something or sending me off.

My body drifted out to sea, the current taking me farther from the shore, farther from Tucker, from the others—their yells becoming faint. The gulls didn't come out this far—afraid of what was out here, in the middle—the unknown. My head bobbed up and down, until I couldn't keep it afloat anymore. I sunk down, down, down...the water turning white, to blue—to dark blue—to black, until the light from the sun was completely swallowed up.

Darkness...darkness would bring death...death would bring sorrow...sorrow would turn into life again. I knew my loved ones would go on without me, just as the stars in the Montana sky still shined in my absence.

I began to fade and I waited to be taken up to Heaven. I wondered if Lizzy would be there—greeting me at the gates—motioning for me to hurry up inside. I wondered if she'd take my hand. "Don't be afraid," she might say. "We're together again."

I waited; I waited for what was coming for me. A bell from the church rang in the distance...Heaven's bells...ringing to alert my arrival.

Bong.

Bong.

Bong.

"Live." A woman's voice whispered through the darkness, a small light appearing before me.

My journey was not over—it was just beginning.

Please read on for an excerpt of

Aubrey Moore's next book:

Red River Run

An Excerpt from Book 2 of the Red Butterfly series:

_Red River Run_

Behind the junk credit card offers was a letter, addressed to me with no return label. My heart stopped. I recognized this handwriting. I threw the other mail on the counter, some of it falling to the floor. My heart raced while I wildly tore open the back. It was her, the girl who left me alone the night of the fire. The same flowing handwriting, her I's and T's childlike—the memories of her grabbing my right hand, teaching me to write.

I crumbled the paper up, throwing it across the room. Why now, after all these years, was she trying to contact me? She told me one day we'd be together again, but too many years had passed. I was grownup now—I wasn't the innocent girl she left behind—I had been through too much while she was gone. Would she have any remorse for what I went through all because she left me to fend for myself?

The girl I once knew was close; I could feel her here, in Caldwell—maybe even right next door. Her gift was strong, like mine. Did she know what we had become after our parents opened the portal? What if she knew—what if she could explain to me who we really were and why it happened to us.

She signed the letter, Nadine. My sister—our blood the same.

I circled around the crumbled letter, reaching down to pick it up, tossing it closer to the trash, picking it up again. Why was she doing this to me? Didn't she know I didn't want her in my life? Didn't she foresee my desire to have her gone forever when she left me there, stranded in the forest? Alone? Our home burning to the ground; our parents still inside, dead.

I picked the letter up one last time, spread it out on the kitchen counter, unwrinkled the mess of my childhood, and folded it nicely. As much as I wanted her gone, I couldn't throw it away—not yet. I needed to hold onto her words.

I placed the letter deep under a pile of socks in my dresser drawer. This is where it would stay. Forever hidden from my sight.

READ ALL OF THE Red Butterfly series

Butterfly Red Sky

Red River Run

Red Fire Night

Deceit Red Liar

Red Fire Day

Red Bell Ring

Coming 2019: The Red Place (New Character Intro & Dystopian Genre)

Note from Aubrey Moore

IF YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK:

PLEASE LEAVE A POSITIVE REVIEW

THAT WAY OTHERS WILL LEARN ABOUT MY BOOKS TOO!

I WOULD SO GREATLY APPRECIATE IT!

THANK YOU FOR READING!

-AUBREY MOORE; author of the Red Butterfly series

Connect with Aubrey Moore

AUBREY MOORE: Author of the Red Butterfly series has captured the hearts of readers everywhere. She would like to thank God, her family, and the amazing "butterfly" fans for believing in her and her characters.

Currently, Aubrey lives with her husband and daughters in Nevada.

Friend me on Facebook: <http://www.facebook.com/aubreymoorebooks>

Friend the series on Facebook: <http://www.facebook.com/redbutterflyseries>

<http://www.Twitter.com/aubmoorebooks>

<http://www.Goodreads.com/aubrey_moore>

Email: aubreymoore@aubreymoore.com

Bonus Material & Release Dates Visit: http://www.aubreymoore.com

What the Fans are Saying

"You know it's a good one when you finish reading it and immediately want more. Can't wait for the next one. Ordered the first book from Amazon for my sis and best friend. I know they'll love it!" Moriah W.

"My daughter keeps stealing my copy to read for herself!" Rachel A

"I cannot say how much I am enjoying the book! I already recommended it to a friend who, in turn, immediately purchased and downloaded it (yes, during our discussion) and loves it too! The flow of writing is flawless. We cannot wait for more!" Rachael S.

"I bought this terrific book yesterday, finished it today! Couldn't put it down! I cannot wait for the second book. Amazing saga of a young psychic medium Maya!! Buy the book, you will love it!" Annette H.

"Sucked me in and I couldn't put it down!" Whitley L.

"I need more—stat!" Malinda M.

"This is a gripping mystery of a book. There is an underlying mystery to wonder at and leaves me wanting more! Maya has a past that is tragic and yet she still has enough faith to help those who need it. Wonderful read!" Goodreads Reviewer

