Hearts In Darkness

Mary sniffed and pulled away. 'The police told me he was attacked—and that he'd possibly killed his attacker. Do you think they'll charge him?'

'I don't know.' As MacEwan had said, manslaughter was manslaughter, regardless of the circumstances. And the gun was registered to Jake, even if his prints weren't on it.

Mary's gaze searched hers. 'What happened out there? I thought you were only following a teenager?'

'We were. The people he met with weren't all that happy about our presence. There were at least five of them. We're lucky to be alive.' Lucky the woman had run, rather than attacking a final time.

A doctor wearing blue surgical scrubs came into the waiting room. Mary spun around. His gaze briefly met Nikki's, and her stomach clenched. The operation hadn't gone well—she could see it in his eyes.

'We've removed the bullet from his stomach, but the knife punctured his lung. He made it out of surgery okay, but the next twenty-four hours are vital.'

Meaning there'd been complications, Nikki thought, and rubbed her arms.

Mary went white. Nikki gently cupped the older woman's elbow, ready to catch her should she faint.

Mary didn't seem to notice. 'But he'll be all right, won't he?'

There was a tremulous note to the older woman's voice. The doctor hesitated. 'I can't promise anything.'

'Can I see him?'

'Not for the next couple of hours. Why don't you go home and get some sleep? We'll call if anything happens.'

Mary snorted softly. 'Would you do that if it was your wife in there?'

The doctor smiled. 'No. I don't suppose I would.' He hesitated again. 'I'll keep you posted.'

Mary sank down onto the chair once the doctor left. 'He has to live, Nikki. He has to.'

'He will.' Jake was tough. If he'd lived through Jasper's attack, surely he could live through this. She glanced at her watch.

Mary caught the movement. 'You have to go?'

She nodded. 'MacEwan wants to see me.'

'Then go.' She reached out, gripping Nikki's arm tightly. 'Just don't you go after the madmen who did this. Jake wouldn't want that. He never did believe in revenge.'

Neither did she. Jasper had taught her the folly of seeking retribution, if nothing else. 'I have to find

Matthew. He'd want me to do that.'

Mary nodded. 'Be careful.'

'Always am.' She took the car keys and parking ticket out of her pocket. 'Tell him his car is safe. It's on level three, to the right of the stairs.'

Mary accepted the keys with a nod. 'I'll let you know if anything…' Her voice trailed off, and she blinked several times.

'Do that,' Nikki said, her throat restricted and aching. Turning away sharply, she swiped the tears from her eyes and went in search of a cab.

* * *

MacEwan opened the door at the second knock. He'd obviously just come out of the shower—his hair still dripped, and he wasn't wearing a shirt. Not that it mattered. A thick brown mat covered much of his skin. Nikki smiled slightly. He seemed to have more hair on his chest than he did on his head.

'Come in,' he said. 'The living room is the second door on your left. I'll just go get some clothes on.'

She nodded and headed down the hallway. MacEwan's house was something of a revelation. She expected spartan—white walls and minimal furniture. The reality was rich claret walls, cream ceilings and lots of antiques. The house exuded warmth and friendliness—totally the opposite of the man himself.

She entered the living room and stopped. A woman rose from an overstuffed chair, a look of expectancy in her brown eyes. MacEwan's sister, obviously. Nikki hoped he hadn't raised her hopes too much.

'You must be Nikki James,' the woman said, her large hands clasped tightly together, knuckles almost white.

Nikki offered a hand. 'Yes, I am. You're Sondra, I gather?'

Sondra nodded. Her handshake was firm, her skin slightly clammy. 'Thank you for agreeing to help us.'

She hadn't exactly agreed, but there was no point saying that. 'No problem.'

Sondra perched on the chair again. 'What happened to your hand?'

Nikki glanced down. The white bandages really stood out against all the claret and browns that filled the living room. 'Stabbed myself with a knife. Apples are tougher than they look these days.' Why she lied, she wasn't entirely sure. Maybe because the other woman, despite her size, looked as fragile as glass—and any reminder, no matter how distant, of what might have happened to her daughter might just break her.

A smile touched Sondra's pale lips. 'Rachel was always doing that…' She looked away quickly.

Nikki shifted her weight from one foot to the other and wished MacEwan would hurry up. She'd never been comfortable attempting small talk—especially with desperate strangers.

Sondra blew her nose, the sound strident against the silence. She tucked the handkerchief back into her purse and glanced at Nikki. 'Col said you needed something of Rachel's.'

She nodded. 'I can sometimes use personal items to get impressions of the owner.'

Hope flared in Sondra's brown eyes. 'And find them?'

She shifted uncomfortably. The last thing she wanted was to build up this woman's hopes. 'Not always.'

'Oh.' Sondra blinked several times, then reached into her purse and took out two plastic bags.

Nikki raised an eyebrow in surprise. MacEwan had obviously been doing a little research on psychic abilities if he knew wrapping items in plastic was the best way to prevent outside influences interfering with the resonance of an item.

'I brought over a necklace she wore a lot, and a favorite bra.'

She accepted both and looked around as MacEwan entered the room. 'Just remember, there's no guarantee this will work. Not three months down the road.'

Sondra gave a slight sob. MacEwan's look was severe. 'Try.'

Nikki sat on an overstuffed sofa. Taking a deep breath, she tore open the bag containing the necklace and let it drop into her hand. The gold chain felt cool against her skin. She wrapped her fingers around it, pressing it into her palm. Then she closed her eyes and reached for the place in her mind that could call forth the images locked within the bracelet.

It felt like she was drilling for oil in a barren desert. Sweat trickled down her cheek, splashing against her fist. She frowned, reaching deeper. Gradually, an image formed. A man, in his mid twenties. Blond hair, green eyes. Her mind seized the pictures, storing them for later. If she stopped now, if she even spoke, she feared she might lose the fragile impressions forever.

A white convertible with Wyoming plates. Money, lots of it, splashed about almost carelessly.

Laughter and love in the darkness…

The images slipped away, dissipating like ghosts. Nikki swore softly and ran a hand through her hair.

There'd been no sign of trouble in any of those images, and no telling if they had anything to do with the niece's disappearance.

'Anything?' MacEwan asked, voice tight.

'Just wait.' She ripped open the bag containing the bra.

This time, the images came thick and fast. Green eyes shining bright. White candles, flickering in the darkness. Gold-rimmed china on a red tablecloth. A glass filled with wine as thick as blood.

Warmth and desire intermingled. A four-poster bed covered in gold…

Given the strength of the images, it was obvious the niece had been seduced the last time she'd worn the bra. Nikki reached a little deeper to find out what had happened afterward. Rachel must have at least gone home, otherwise they wouldn't have had this bra.

Fear. Deep fear, blossoming in the midst of passion. Struggling, fighting, unable to breathe…