Copper Beach

“The sex?” He gazed up at the ceiling. “Let me count the ways…”

“Not the sex. The dream.”

“The one you interrupted?”

“That’s the one, yes.” She paused. “You called my name.”

“Probably because you weren’t supposed to be in it.”

“What was I doing in it?”

“Scaring the hell out of me,” he said.

“Explain.”

“It’s the same dream that I told you about.”

“The one in which poor Cassidy walks down the hall to open the lab door?”

“Yes. Usually, it’s like some damned video loop. It keeps repeating, over and over again. Always the same. Until tonight.”

“What was different about tonight’s version?”

He looked at her, his eyes burning a little in the shadows. “Tonight you were the woman walking down the hall, about to open the lab door. I called out to you. Tried to stop you. But you couldn’t hear me.”

“You’re worried about protecting me, and that concern came through in the new version of the dream.” She leaned over and brushed her mouth against his. Then she pulled back. “But it’s okay. I’m not Cassidy. If you called out to me or tried to warn me, even in a dream, I would hear you.”

“Would you?”

“Yes,” she said. “I heard you tonight, didn’t I?”

He stroked her cheek with the back of his finger. She turned her head and kissed his palm. He wrapped one arm around her and drew her back down to him.

38

“WHAT DID YOU MEAN LAST NIGHT WHEN YOU TOLD ME THAT we needed to go back to the start of this thing?” Abby asked. “You said you were missing something about the incident in the Vaughn library.”

They were eating omelets and drinking coffee in the hotel restaurant. Abby was feeling surprisingly well rested. Which only went to show that if you had clean underwear, a toothbrush and a sexy bodyguard, a woman could handle anything, she decided.

For his part, Sam showed no signs of exhaustion. He looked sated and satisfied. He also appeared energized.

“You told me that the day of the home invasion, Grady Hastings specified that he was after a particular encrypted book,” Sam said.

“Yes. Morgan’s The Key to the Latent Power of Stones.”

“According to what little there is about him online, there’s no indication that Hastings was in the hot-books market. He doesn’t have the money for it, for one thing.”

“He told me that he needed The Key to help him with his research. Evidently, he’s really into crystals.”

“Like me,” Sam said.

Abby smiled. “Like you without the Coppersmith money to fund his work.”

“And without the Coppersmith connections in the rare-books market. And yet he somehow discovered that an obscure, psi-coded book on crystals was in the library of a private collector. How would that be possible if he wasn’t tapped into the underground book world?”

Abby put down her fork and thought about it. “He said a voice in a crystal had told him how to find the book and that it was encrypted.”

“Did the voice tell him about you?”

“Yes.”

“Think we can safely assume he is delusional? He may have fantasized about hearing a voice in the crystal, but the information about you and the book was accurate. He got it from some source. Any ideas?”

“I don’t know. I certainly don’t advertise, and Mrs. Vaughn didn’t put the contents of her library online. She is not dangerous, but she is as secretive as every other collector I’ve ever worked with.”

“But serious collectors, dealers and freelancers like you would be aware of at least some of the more valuable books in her collection, right?”

“Oh, yes. That kind of gossip is always floating around. All of us who work that market keep close track of auctions, sales and rumors about recent acquisitions. What are you thinking?”

“Your dream intuition has been right all along. I’m thinking it is past time to talk to Grady Hastings.”

39

“IT WAS THE VOICE IN THE CRYSTAL THAT TOLD ME THAT The Key was in Mrs. Vaughn’s library,” Grady Hastings said. “I couldn’t believe it at first, but I heard it over and over again, so I knew it had to be true. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. At least, I don’t think I meant to hurt anyone. Can’t remember, exactly, to be honest. The doctor tells me I have to remember that part, but I can’t.”

“Why did you want The Key so badly?” Abby asked. “Do you remember that?”

They were sitting in the spare, utilitarian room the psychiatric hospital reserved for meetings between visitors and patients. An orderly stood some distance away, surreptitiously checking email on his cell phone. Or maybe playing a game, Abby thought. Whatever the case, it was obvious that he was not interested in the conversation. The woman who had led Abby and Sam to the visitors’ room a short time earlier had explained that they were the only people who had come to visit Grady since he had been admitted.

Abby and Sam were on one side of a wide table. Grady sat across from them. He was no longer radiating the wild, chaotic energy that had swirled around him on the day he had invaded the Vaughn home. He still gave off the vibes of an individual who marched to his own drummer, but he was not scary today. Abby found herself feeling sorry for him. He seemed very worried, very young and very lonely. He was dressed in hospital-issue garb, a loose- fitting shirt, trousers and slippers.

“I needed The Key to complete my experiment,” Grady said. His expression became animated for the first time. He straightened in his chair. “I was so close to the final step, you see, and the voice told me that the answer was in The Key.” His enthusiasm faded as quickly as it had materialized. He sagged back in defeat. “I can’t believe I thought I was hearing a voice in one of my crystals. I must have been crazy, just like everyone says. I screwed up, and now I’ll never know if I was on the right track or not.”

Sam looked at him. “What was the nature of the experiment?”

“I was trying to grow crystals that could be used as hearing aids. My mother was deaf. I used sign language from the cradle. When I was still a kid, I told her that one day I would find a way to help her hear. She believed in me. She died when I was fourteen, but she made me promise that I would never give up my goal of inventing a new kind of hearing technology. But they won’t let me have a lab in here. When I asked them for some of the crystals that I was working on at home, the doc said that the fact that I believed crystals had some kind of special powers was another indication that I needed more treatment.”

“Your doctor doesn’t think there is power in crystals?” Sam asked.

“Nah.” Grady grimaced. “He thinks it’s all woo-woo stuff.”

“Did you remind him that it’s crystal technology that makes it possible for him to have a personal computer and carry a phone that can access the Internet?” Sam asked. “Did you mention lasers? LCD screens?”

“Sure,” Grady said. “But I was working with crystals that have some paranormal properties, and the doctor