"Yeah, I get it. Which means-"

"Which means I'm in unexplored territory here and pretty much on my own. God knows what was scrambled or short-circuited inside my head. And what the aftereffects might be."

"Want to tell me again why you aren't going to see a doctor?"

"Because there's nothing a doctor would do except probably run tests. Because I'm functional. I don't even have a headache today, or at least not much of one. Whatever that jolt did to my brain…well, let's just say I doubt they have a magic little pill to fix me."

"It could be permanent? The memory loss and the damage to your senses?"

"Could be." Riley drew a deep breath and released it slowly.

"Hell, that may be more likely than not. If an electrical jolt can trigger latent psychic abilities-and we know it can-then it's reasonable to suppose one could just as easily short-circuit or even destroy them."

"How you feel about that?"

"All my life, I've counted on those extra senses to give me an edge when I needed it. When somebody else was bigger or stronger or smarter or faster-or just meaner. Without them, I don't know if I'm good enough to do my job."

Chapter 8

I don't think you have to worry about that," Gordon said. "I've seen you accomplish plenty without the spooky senses."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Wish it helped the queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach."

Maybe changing the subject, Gordon asked, "How'd the date go last night?"

She knew he wasn't asking for details, and wouldn't; he just wanted to know if her evening with Ash had changed anything.

It was an answer she didn't have.

"It went…it was fine." Riley hesitated, then said, "Tell me I can trust him, Gordon. Promise me I can trust him."

"Wish I could, babe, but I don't know the man well enough to promise anything. All I know's what I hear, the little bit I've seen for myself, and for what it's worth that's mostly good. I'd want him on my side in a fight. My gut says I could depend on him to watch my back. But we both know that don't mean he couldn't be a bastard to the woman sharing his bed."

"I don't think…That isn't what I'm afraid of."

"What, then? Afraid he carved up a living human being out in the woods?"

"I don't think he could do that. But I don't know he didn't. Gordon, I'm used to getting a sense of people. Deeper than reading expressions or voices or watching what they do. I know who I can trust and who I can't, almost always, but it's more than that. It's a sense of who they are, deep down inside. With Ash, I have the nagging feeling there was something very important I sensed about him. Something I really need to know now. And whatever it was, I can't feel it, can't know it anymore. It's gone."

"Maybe not gone for good. Maybe just beyond reach right now."

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe." As well as he knew her, Gordon wasn't psychic, and because he'd never lost a sense he couldn't understand what it really meant to suddenly be without something you had depended on to help you steer your way through an often hostile world.

Riley was only just beginning to realize it herself. The queasy sensation in her stomach intensified.

After a moment, Gordon said, "You got involved with him, and I have a hard time believin' you'd have done that if you'd sensed anything rotten inside him."

"I hope you're right." Riley looked out over the peaceful summertime scenery visible from Gordon's dock and wished fleetingly that she could join the fishing party he was expecting any time now and just sail off for a few mindless hours. That sounded a lot more appealing than looking at autopsy photos.

"Riley?"

She looked at him, then straightened away from the bench she'd been half-leaning against. "I'd better go. Jake expected me at the sheriff's department half an hour ago."

"I got a friend can take this party out."

Grateful for the implicit offer, she nevertheless shook her head. "And we'd tell Jake what? That I felt threatened enough to bring along an army buddy to watch my back in broad daylight? I'm an FBI agent on vacation and he's asked me to advise on an investigation, all nice and casual. So why would I suddenly feel the need for a bodyguard? Nobody else knows about what happened Sunday night, and I want to keep it that way, at least until I figure out a little more of what's going on around here."

"Whoever attacked you knows what happened. And if he left you for dead, he's going to be mighty surprised if he sees you walkin' around like nothin' happened. Mighty surprised-and mighty worried about how much you know."

"I've been thinking about that, and I'm not so sure he'll be worried at all. Far as I can tell, I never even drew my weapon. Can't be sure about that, but I certainly never fired it. And I was attacked from behind, obviously taken by surprise. Not bragging or anything, but it's not all that easy to take me by surprise."

"I would have said."

"Yeah. So, chances are, I never got so much as a glimpse at whoever was holding the Taser. I think if he-or she, I suppose-believed I'd seen or heard anything that might be a danger to him or her, he or she-Oh, hell. He would have made damn sure I was dead."

"That's an awfully big assumption to hang your life on, babe."

"Yeah, well." She gestured to the holstered automatic she wore easily on one hip. "From now on, I'm openly armed most of the time and, as far as most people around here are concerned, officially on duty." A decision she had made after Ash left that morning. "I didn't want it to be this way, because it means some people are going to be less likely to talk to me. But, after thinking about it, I decided the risks of appearing unarmed outweighed the benefits."

"Especially with you being a little bitty thing."

"Yes, I know I don't look very threatening. A gun tends to make people think twice. With my other edge gone, that's one I need."

Gordon pursed his lips. "I'll be happy to spread the word you're hell on wheels in a bare-fisted fight. It's not like it'd be a lie."

"Don't go out of your way." Riley shrugged. "But if the subject comes up, why not? Whoever the guy is, I want him to get the idea that taking me by surprise a second time won't be so easy." She held up a hand when he would have spoken to say, "Which also means I won't be going out at night by myself, not again."

"Call me," he said. "It was me got you involved in all this, so you'd damn well better call me next time."

With some feeling, she said, "Believe me when I say I do not want to go up against the bastard's stun gun a second time. If I need to do any investigating at night, I'll call you."

"Any hour."

"I know. Thanks." Riley took a step toward the walkway that would lead her around to the street side of Gordon's house, then paused and looked at him with a frown. "Gordon? What's happening in Charleston?"

He looked blank for a moment, then said, "Oh, you mean the murders?"

"If that's what's happening. Murders?"

"Yeah. They got a serial killer, apparently. A real mean one, leaving his victims pretty much in pieces. Been at it awhile, I gather, but the cops just put it together about a week ago, at least according to the Charleston papers. Bastard's targeting tourists, men only, and everybody's pretty tore up about it all."

"I guess so." Riley felt suddenly cold in the hot July sunshine. Can't be. Not the same M.O. And there must be a hundred serials operating right now in this country-

Gordon bent to check a bait bucket, adding, "The papers have been calling 'im The Collector. Seems he's been leavin' a mint-perfect coin on every one of the bodies. Well, not on the bodies. Inside the bodies, after he finishes cutting ' em up. Guess they could just as easily call 'im The Slot Machine Killer, but-Riley? You okay?"