framed her fine-boned face. She still wore glasses but the new ones were a trendy-looking pair that made a perfect frame for her spectacular eyes. Everything about her, including her energy, thrilled his senses.
He had known that day that he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. He had also known that she was the one thing he could not have.
The Shadow Bay Police Station was located at the far end of the street in the town square. The headquarters of the volunteer fire department sat directly across the small park. The post office and the office of the part-time mayor, Fletcher Kane, completed the picture-perfect small-town scene.
It was enough to drive anyone who hated small towns as much as he did mad, Slade thought morosely. He really had to get moving on his new career path.
Devin Reed was sprawled on one of the stone benches in the park, legs shoved straight out in front of him. He was dressed in a pair of logo-splashed running shoes, jeans, a gray hoodie, and the new sunglasses he had invested in recently. In addition he wore the utterly bored, world-weary air that only a thirteen-year-old boy could pull off. The thing was, Slade thought, in Devin’s case, he had a right to the attitude. The kid had gotten some tough breaks.
Rex bounded ahead and hopped up onto the bench seat.
“Hey, Rex.” Devin patted the bunny and then peered at Slade through the new shades. “Hey, Chief Attridge.”
“Dev.” Slade stopped. “What are you doing this afternoon?”
“Nothing much.”
“How about last night between midnight and dawn? Do anything much then?”
“Huh?” Devin jerked his hand away from Rex.
“You broke into the antiques shop.”
“I didn’t break anything, I swear it.”
“You went inside.”
“I found the door unlocked,” Devin said quickly. “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay inside.”
“Take anything?”
“That’s good. I wouldn’t want to have to arrest you. It would break your grandmother’s heart.”
Devin was stunned. “You wouldn’t arrest me.”
“In a heartbeat.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Try me.”
Devin’s expression closed down into a sullen scowl. “I was just doing Miss Enright a favor, that’s all. I just checked to make sure there was nothing wrong inside the shop.”
“Right. Next time you’re out wandering around after midnight and you find an unlocked door, you call me or Officer Willis.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.”
Rex moseyed off to investigate the stone-and-tile fountain. He liked to play in water.
Slade propped one booted foot on the bench and rested his forearm on his thigh. He was no guidance counselor, but Devin definitely needed some advice. Whether the kid took it or not was another problem.
“Does your grandmother know you snuck out of the house last night?” he said.
“No.” Devin looked uneasy now. “She’d think I was doing drugs or something.”
“I know why you went into the shop, Dev.”
“I told you, I just—”
“You can sense the energy in there, can’t you? I feel it, too. It hits you like a shower of small sparks of lightning, doesn’t it? Jacks you up a little.”
“Huh?” Devin went very still.
“What you pick up on in there are traces of paranormal energy.”
“You mean like in the Old Quarters and in the Underworld? Alien psi?”
“Sort of, but what you sense in Looking Glass isn’t alien energy. It’s human psi.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Miss Enright says there’s a fair amount of it infused into most of the antiques in the shop. Evidently there are collectors who will pay big bucks for stuff like that. Go figure.”
Devin looked first shocked and then hurt. “Come off it, you think I’m dumb enough to believe that? Why don’t you try telling me that Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy are real?”
“I think you’re developing some serious psychic talent, Dev, not just the low-level kind that everyone uses to resonate with amber to start a car or switch on a washing machine. Something a lot stronger.”
Dev brightened. “You think I might be a ghost hunter? That maybe I can join the Guild someday?”
“Ever rez any ghosts?”
Devin sank back into himself. “No. Tried a few times back in Frequency. Went down into the tunnels with some other kids. They pulled some small ghosts but I couldn’t do it.”
“Probably because your talent is different.”
“Yeah?” Devin did not try to conceal his skepticism. “How?”
“It doesn’t depend on amber, for one thing, although you’ll probably be able to use amber to focus it more efficiently.”
“Huh?”
“Look, it’s common knowledge that something here on Harmony has speeded up the evolution of the latent psychic senses we all possess. That’s why we can use amber in the first place, right?”
“Right. We learned that in science class. So what?”
“Here’s what they didn’t teach you in science class. Some of the First Generation colonists already possessed a lot of natural psychic talent when they arrived two hundred years ago. They kept a low profile because back on the Old World the paranormal wasn’t accepted as normal. People who claimed to have psychic talent were considered weird or even dangerous.”
“Yeah?”
“Things are better here on Harmony but a lot of folks still have a bone-deep fear of those who possess powerful talent of any kind, whether or not they use amber. And sometimes there’s a good reason for them to be afraid of strong talents.”
“Come on, nobody takes those movies and comic books about rogue psychics and paranormal killers seriously.”
Slade thought about his last encounter with a rogue psychic. “You’d be surprised.”
“Yeah?” Dev was starting to sound intrigued now.
“Natural talent, which I think you’ve got, takes a while to develop. It will be a few years before you find out how strong you are. That’s good because you need the time to learn how to control and focus your new abilities.”
“Huh.”
“My advice is to keep quiet about what’s happening to you unless you’re sure you’re talking to someone who understands and believes you.”
Dev gave him a wary, uncertain look. “You think people would laugh at me?”
“Probably. Strong talent usually has a genetic component. Has your grandmother ever talked to you about the possibility that you might have some above-average psychic ability?”
“Are you kidding? No way. If I asked her about something like that she’d pack me off to a shrink. I’d wind up in the loony bin. She’s already worried about me as it is. The last thing I want to do is make her think I’m going crazy, like my mom did.”
It was no secret around the station or in town that Devin was the offspring of an illicit affair. His mother had taken her own life a year earlier. The kid’s father, a married man who lived in Crystal City, met his financial obligations but took no interest in the boy. What Devin had going for him was his grandmother, Myrna Reed. Myrna cared deeply about his well-being. But sometimes a boy needed a man’s firm hand.
“Coming into a talent can be a little scary sometimes,” Slade said. “You don’t always understand what’s
