Danger Signals

she knew he was asking her for her 'take' on the stranger.

It frustrated her to admit she didn't have one-not one she trusted. He seemed benign, but at the same time…

How odd. It's almost as if…he has the same bits and pieces missing as Wade. The same fragments of violence and danger that pop into his gentler emotions now and then, like gunfire way off in the distance.

'Washington,' the stranger said, and quickly added, 'D.C., not state.'

'Ah,' said Wade. 'That where you're from?'

'No, but my job takes me there a lot. Among other places. I'm a journalist, by the way-Cory Pearson.' He held out his hand.

'Wade Callahan-I'm a cop,' Wade said as he took it.

'Really? Here? In Portland?'

He knows that, Tierney thought, but it doesn 't alarm him. Then two 'impressions' hit her simultaneously.

Love!

Lies!

She knew the man was hiding his true self, holding himself in check, guarding emotions so powerful he couldn't quite contain them.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything to get Wade's attention, but the words wouldn't come. The force of the 'impressions' had literally taken her breath away.

The moment of paralysis passed, as it always did, and she was able to draw breath, and with it a little gasp that was the prelude to speech, to the warning she needed to give. But before she could speak she felt a timid touch on her arm. She turned to find an Asian man standing there, shyly holding out his camera and pointing to himself and then to his large family, nodding and smiling at her from a short distance away.

As Tierney took the man's camera and followed him to where his family had assembled for a photo in front of a bed of roses in full and glorious bloom, she heard the stranger- Cory Pearson-say to Wade, 'Hey, there's a thought- would you mind? For my wife. She'll love this…'

Her mind was in turmoil, trying to concentrate on two things at once and failing to keep up with either one. The Asian family was patient with her hesitation, thinking she was having trouble understanding their camera. They were all chattering helpfully at her and pointing to this button and that one. Meanwhile, she could hear Wade and the stranger talking together in low-key but friendly tones as Wade obligingly took several photos with the man standing in front of different varieties of roses, then one with the city and Mount Hood in the distant background.

And all the time they were moving farther and farther away from her.

By the time the family had run out of poses, reclaimed their camera and moved on, she was ready to weep with frustration. She turned to look for Wade, keeping one hand clasped to her forehead, which had begun to ache from the pressure of her silently screamed-and futile-warnings.

She spotted him at last on the lower level, idly strolling and obviously alone. And watching for her, because as soon as he saw her looking his way he lifted a hand and started toward her. She hurried to meet him, then broke into a run-probably not the wisest move, given the sandals she was wearing. She watched his attitude change from relaxed to alert as he read the urgency on her face, saw him quicken his step and reach for her in time to keep her from plunging headlong into his arms.

'Whoa,' he said as he steadied her, holding her firmly by the arms.

Heat and strength enveloped her, and a rich masculine aura filled her senses, and she felt safe… protected. It was what he'd felt, she realized, as a child and in his dreams. It felt so wonderful, for a moment she wanted to weep like a child herself, a child finding shelter in loving arms.

'What's the matter? Something happen, or did you just pick up on somebody's crisis?'

She struggled to shake off the emotions, gulp back the threatening tears, and managed to achieve a semblance of calm. 'Where is he? The man with the camera-where did he go?'

'I don't know-moved on, I guess. Why? Did you-'

'Yes. We have to find him. Wade-I'm almost sure he's The Watcher.'

Chapter 6

'You're sure about this? No mistake?'

Tierney gave Wade a quick glance and said jerkily, 'I know what I felt.' She was out of breath from walking rapidly, trying to keep up with him as they'd scoured every inch of the rose garden.

She'd long ago taken off her shoes and was carrying them in one hand, dangling by the heel straps. As she lifted the shoes in order to wipe the back of her hand against a trickle of sweat creeping down her forehead. Wade eyed the shoes and frowned.

'Look, there's no point in running all over the place. He's gone by now anyway.'

She halted and let her shoulders slump. 'Wade, I'm sorry. I should have-'

'Not your fault.' It was the same thing he'd said the first eight or so times she'd apologized. And she still didn't believe it.

'I picked it up when he shook your hand. I could have said something then, but there was that family wanting me to take their pictures. I should have just told them no, or I didn't understand, or something.'

'Forget it. We've got his name, anyway-assuming he gave us the right one. Cory Pearson-jeez, a journalist? And you're sure he's the one. You didn't just pick up somebody else's emotions that happened to be floating around? You did say they have weddings here. The whole place is probably lousy with love.'

She lifted her hand-and the shoes-again, this time in an unsuccessful attempt to catch the bubble of laughter that burst from her lips.

Wade threw her a look and said. 'What's funny?'

She shook her head, still smiling, knowing it would be pointless to say. 'Nothing.' Knowing she couldn't possibly tell him how ridiculously happy it made her feel that he believed in her gift.

Although…it was a happiness so fragile that even recognizing its existence was enough to destroy it. What was she thinking? To let anyone's opinion of her matter so much was unwise. To allow any man's belief or disbelief to have the power to affect her happiness was just stupidity. To let this man's acceptance mean so much was both of those things to the nth degree. It was lunacy. Dangerous. Sheer insanity.

'It's just funny to hear you say that,' she said as her smile grew wry, 'as if you actually believe me. A couple days ago you felt quite a bit differently about me, I think.' It was a compromise, of sorts.

He seemed to accept it, gave his own short bark of laughter, then frowned as he thought about it. 'I'm still not sure about the psychic stuff, frankly.' he said in a gruff, half-embarrassed tone. 'You've got something, though- good instincts, people smarts-I don't know what it is, but I'd be a fool not to use it.'

Which was a load of bull…whatever. He did believe. He believed in her. It was that simple.

Or that complicated.

'And speaking of that…have you got a few minutes?' He barely waited for her nod and murmured assent before putting his hand on her elbow and steering her toward the rose garden's exit. He glanced at the shoes in her hand and his frown deepened as he experienced an insane desire to pick her up and carry her. 'Would you mind stopping by my place…see if you can pick up anything from the guy that was watching my apartment this morning? I don't live too far from here. Just take a minute.'

'Okay, sure. Shall I follow you in my car or…'

'No sense in taking separate vehicles. I can drop you off here on my way back to the shop.'

It was the most logistically sensible solution, he told himself, and had nothing to do