“Jane,” Logan said. “I think it’ll help us immensely if we can determine the identities of the other women.”

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“Kat and I will start on the images immediately,” Jane assured him. “Then you can distribute the pictures.” She smiled. “I haven’t seen you in while. It’s good to work with you again.”

Jane liked him, Kelsey thought. At the moment, she didn’t like him very much herself.

But Jane had barely entered the room when the door opened again, and her cousin arrived. Sean came in, giving her a broad smile, and it was nice because…so far, she really had been an outsider. She wasn’t Texan. Sean was, but he was blood, as well, and they even bore a family resemblance. She wanted to rush over and throw her arms around him, but the gravity in the morgue forbade it. And the sense that still seemed to vibrate in her fingers, the sense that Tara Grissom was with her, made any other kind of feeling—or interaction—difficult just now.

Jackson stripped off his gloves and shook hands with Sean, and the others greeted him as an old and esteemed acquaintance. He looked at Kelsey then, sheepish, his eyes trying to meet hers but slipping to the corpse that lay between them.

“Hey, Kels.”

“Hey, Sean.”

He was tall and lean, with hair that was similar to her own but much darker, and the same green eyes that were dominant in their family. While she stood awkwardly behind the corpse, Sean kept avoiding it and trying to speak to the others, saying he was glad to be working with them again.

“I’m not sure I’m much good in the morgue,” Sean said, addressing Jackson. “And I’m still involved with the documentary. But I’ll do my best on searches and video recreations as soon as I have something to work with.”

“Kat?” Jane began. “How soon—”

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“This afternoon,” Kat said instantly. “I’ll get an assistant in here, and we’ll start with the photographs. I’ll see what I can do about getting down to the skulls. If we can come up with a real idea of more of the victims’ faces, Sean can start tonight.” Kat turned to Jackson, Logan and Kelsey. “I’ll do whatever I can in the tests, and get back to you.”

“Kelsey’s named our victims,” Logan said. “I think we all believe that ‘Jodie Doe’ might have been the victim of a different killer—she was drowned. This doesn’t mean we don’t need justice for her, too. I’m just mentioning it.”

“All right, I’ll look for differences, as well,” Kat promised. “I’ll also do anything I can to find out if a common drug, synthetic or natural, was used on any of the women.”

“Everyone at the office tonight at eight o’clock,” Jackson said.

They were dismissed. Kelsey pulled off her gloves and went back to the hallway. Knowing Sean was behind her, she turned around and greeted him with a hug at last. “I was hoping to see you soon,” she told him, “but this is a surprise.”

“It was a surprise for me, too,” he said. “Well, not totally. Crow contacted me, but a lot of my time is committed to the documentary that’s being shot. The good thing is, we’ve come back to the city to do some interior shots at Branch Studios. I’m here now, so you’re welcome to stay with me. I figured you wanted to spend some time with Sandy, but if we’re working together…”

“I’d love to come and stay with you, but right now I think it’s more important to be at the Longhorn.”

He nodded. “We’re negotiating to shoot there, too.” He grinned wryly. “The rodeo’s in town, which is good on the one hand, since they can hire some of those guys as extras. But it’s bad in a way, too, because Sandy may not want shooting done on the premises when she has such a great clientele—thanks, of course, to the rodeo. She won’t want us closing off any areas. Then there’s sound, of course. But I’m not producing. I’m just the special-effects guy.” He glanced at his watch. They’d moved down the hall, but Jackson, Logan and Jane Everett had exited the autopsy room, as well. He looked quickly in their direction. “So, this is why you’re here?” he asked her. “What do you think?”

My cousin! My blood, she thought. Sean was here. She felt now that she really had someone she knew, and trusted entirely.

“I’m not sure yet,” she told him. “Jackson Crow seems to know what he’s doing. It’s a little scary. But very tempting.”

“Yeah, it’s intriguing. Who knew the world had so many strange people in it?”

“We’re not strange,” Kelsey said.

“Right. We’re perfectly normal gifted people,” he said dryly. “Let’s face it, Kels, we’re strange. But working where strange is normal might be really nice for a change.”

She studied Sean’s face. He was a few years her senior; they’d both seen and done some things that could definitely be considered strange. And they’d both learned that you didn’t talk about any of these things to others.

She nodded. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

“We will,” he agreed.

“Sean, you know the history and legends here, don’t you?”

“Born and raised in San Antonio,” he reminded her. “Any questions you have, I can answer later, okay?”

The rest of the group was coming toward them, and he backed away from her slightly. “Going to my day job.” He raised his voice. “I’ll see you all tonight. And if anyone has anything for me…”

He waved and headed off.

“Let’s go, shall we?” Logan said to her.

She didn’t ask where they were going. Kelsey knew he was anxious to search for Vanessa Johnston.

She still felt a simmering anger against him over forcing her to touch Tara’s corpse—forcing her hand in more ways than one—but she nodded.

They left the morgue together.

Kelsey could still smell the mixture of chemicals that seemed to permeate the autopsy room, even as they walked into the sunlight.

It wasn’t a smell you ever forgot.

They returned to the Alamo, and sat on the bench not far from the entrance to the old chapel.

“This seems highly useful.” He could hear the sarcasm in her voice. They’d been on the bench for nearly half an hour and nothing had happened.

“This is where the crow dropped the finger,” Logan said patiently.

She was cool and aloof; she’d been angry since they’d left the morgue.

He turned to her. “Look, we’re here because we can sit on this bench and possibly…hopefully, make some discoveries.”

Her green eyes blazed. “Yes, we know we can do things differently. But, Raintree, we’re supposed to use our gifts as we see fit to use them. I don’t force you to do anything, and you don’t force me.”

He shook his head. “I tried. I touched Tara, and because of that, I know she was taken in darkness. You’re better than I am. You might have discovered more.”

“I’m not better! You…made contact.”

“So did you,” he said, turning away. “And, hey, if you don’t want to use what you have, you should just go home.”

“I should go home?” she responded furiously. “If you can’t move beyond the past, there’s no sense in working on this. And if you’re supposed to be some kind of team captain, well, there’s been a mistake.”

He wanted to answer her sharply, but he tensed and found himself inhaling.

She was right. She was so right. He had to learn to find the truth again.

He exhaled. “Team. That means we all use what we have,” he said. He turned back to her. “Did you get anything more?”

She shook her head. “Tara Grissom can’t help us because she was taken in the dark, and she doesn’t know who killed her.”

“She can still help us,” Logan said.

“How?”

“We have to find out more about her. Learn about her friends and acquaintances. Who knew she was coming here? Did she meet with anyone once she arrived? We need to discover the little personal things. I thought—”

“You thought you could force me when I wasn’t ready,” Kelsey said.

He smiled crookedly. “Are we ever really ready?”

“Are you ready yet?”

Was he?

Looking past Kelsey, he saw Zachary Chase hovering a few feet away.

“Zachary,” he whispered.

Kelsey whirled around. Logan supposed that, if any visitors were watching, they’d think the two of them were staring at an imaginary friend.

Kelsey didn’t stand. She didn’t act as if she was about to shake hands with the air. She smiled, though, and said in a soft voice, “Mr. Chase! I’ve been hoping to meet you.”

Thus encouraged, the ghost of Zachary Chase came forward.

Kelsey made way for him to sit on the bench between them.

Zachary was in buckskin, the outfit he’d probably worn most of his life. His face was weathered and taut, but he was still capable of a shy grin as he looked at Kelsey. And, with him between them, they could converse as if Kelsey was talking to Logan, which would certainly create the appearance of a normal conversation.

“How do you do, miss,” Zachary said appreciatively as he greeted Kelsey. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You, too, Zachary.” Kelsey nodded at him.

“This is Kelsey O’Brien,” Logan said. “She’s a U.S. Marshal. We’re both desperate for help, Zachary. Someone is stealing or seducing away women from this area, or so we believe—and killing them.”

Zachary frowned. “I had worried,” he said.

“Zachary, you didn’t say anything to me,” Logan chastised him.

“You haven’t been around much,” Zachary said. “When you were, it was as if you hadn’t noticed me. And I didn’t know the women were dying.”

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