'What?' Tess frowned. 'I'm not sure what you mean.'

'I told you yesterday on the way to Joseph's apartment. This started out as police business. Now it belongs to Homicide, not Missing Persons. But I still want to stay involved. Because of you.'

Tess frowned harder.

'No response?' Craig asked.

'I'm trying to sort this out. Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

'As far as I'm concerned, this isn't business anymore. I want to get to know you.'

'But…'

'Whatever it is, say it, Tess.'

'You're ten years older than me.'

'So what? You've got a prejudice? You don't like mature men, dependable men, guys like me who've been there and back and around some and don't have any illusions or expectations and don't make problems?'

'It's not exactly that. I mean…' Tess squirmed. 'It's just… Well, I never thought about…'

'Well, do me a favor and give it some thought. I don't want to be pushy. I know a lot's been happening, not the least of which is you've lost your friend, and I'm sorry for that, and I repeat, I don't want to make problems for you. I'm patient. But hey, I bathe every day.'

Tess couldn't help it. She laughed.

'Good,' Craig said. 'I like that. I like to hear you laugh. So think about it, would you? Or at any rate, keep it in the back of your mind? No big deal. No pressure. But maybe… damn it, I'm so… maybe, when this is over, we can talk about it.'

'Sure.' Tess swallowed. 'If… When… I promise, when this is over, we'll talk about it.'

'That's all I'm asking. You don't sound enthusiastic, but that's okay – I appreciate your patience. This next part, however, is business. I don't care how busy you are – just make sure you call me tomorrow when you send me the copies of those photographs.'

'Word of honor,' Tess said. 'Good night.'

'Good night,' Craig responded. 'And by the way, I don't gamble. I seldom drink. And I'm kind to animals, children, the poor, the infirm, not to mention the aged. Think about it.' The lieutenant broke the connection.

Tess listened to the emptiness of the long-distance static, breathed out in confusion, trembled, and' set the phone on its receptacle.

For several moments, she didn't move.

Oh, Christ!

She hadn't counted on this. She'd been vaguely aware of the lieutenant's attraction to her, but she'd ignored it. There'd been too many other things to concern her.

But now that the subject was in the open, Tess didn't know how to respond. Craig was pleasant enough, and indeed he was good looking in a rugged sort of way. For sure, he'd taken pains to be kind and helpful. And she'd definitely appreciated his company in trying circumstances.

But did she feel attracted to him? Physically? Sexually? Certainly it didn't match the powerful, overwhelming identification she'd experienced with Joseph the first time she'd met him.

Tess recalled the theory in The Dove's Neck Ring that love at first sight was actually love at second sight.

Because the souls of the lovers had known each other in a previous existence and now recognized each other in this reborn earthly form.

Damn it, Tess thought, what am I going to do? I don't want to embarrass or insult the lieutenant. But after all, Craig is older than me. At the same time…

… Tess paced…

… I do feel something for him.

And maybe being comfortable with a man is better than suffering a sickening blaze of passion.

She remembered that The Dove's Neck Ring had referred to physical – as opposed to spiritual – passion as an infirmity, a type of illness.

What am I going to do?

Tess felt guilty. She'd been distant and perhaps even rude to Craig when he'd raised the subject of his attraction to her at the end of their conversation.

Her guiltiness troubled her. I can't let the subject hang in the air, she thought. Too many other things to worry about. I have to get this settled.

She picked up the phone.

To call the lieutenant.

To explain to him what she'd just been thinking.

To be totally honest and with kindness confess her uncertainty.

But when she held the phone to her ear, she frowned.

There wasn't a dial tone.

Impatient, she jabbed down the disconnect button, raised it, and listened again.

Still no dial tone.

More impatient, she tapped the disconnect button several times.

Nothing.

The line was dead.

But the line had been working a minute ago. Why would-?

Tess trembled, a chill surging through her. Earlier, she'd felt a chill as well, caused by the mansion's air-conditioning system.

Now the whisper of air from the vent contributed to her chill, but not because the air was cool. Nostrils widening, she stepped toward the vent low on the wall hidden by a chair beside her bureau.

Pulse rushing, she stooped, moved the chair away, and sniffed the stream of air.

A vague acrid smell made her shiver.

Smoke? Is that-?

Her throat felt stung.

It can't be smoke!

But the smell intensified, and with the next deep breath that flared her nostrils, she coughed.

Panic squeezed her chest. As she gasped, she straightened in terror, seeing a thin wisp of gray drift out of the vent.

Fire!

For a moment, her body refused to move.

Abruptly a spring seemed to snap within her, and she charged toward the bedside phone to dial 911. Instantly, her stomach dropping deeper, faster, she remembered that the phone had been dead the last time she'd tried it. Frantic, she tried it again. Still no dial tone! Jesus. She grabbed the cotton pullover that she'd taken off earlier and desperately put it back on. Then she clutched The Dove's Neck Ring along with the photographs and crammed them into her purse.

With a final look toward the air-conditioning vent from which an increasing wisp of gray drifted out and made her cough harder, she darted toward the bedroom door, yanked it open, and lunged out.

TWELVE

The hallway was dark. Someone, presumably the butler, had turned off the lights after Tess and her mother had gone to their rooms. Even the staircase to her left and the vestibule below it were shrouded in darkness. Only the glow from the lamp on her bedside table allowed her to see. She rushed to the right along the murky hallway and reached the door to her mother's room.

Urgent, she shoved it open and groped to flick at the lightswitch. The overhead chandelier blazed. She stared. Her mother, who lay in a canopied bed similar to Tess's, wore eyeshades, even though the draperies were closed. As a consequence, she didn't respond to the sudden gleaming light.

Tess coughed even harder. This room, too, was hazy from smoke wafting out of the air-conditioning vent. 'Mother!' She hurried toward the bed. Her mother was snoring. 'Mother!' Tess shook her.

'Uh…' Her mother turned onto her side.

Tess shook her repeatedly. 'Mother! Wake up!'

'Uh…' Her mother stopped snoring. 'I… What…?' Lethargic, she pawed at her eyeshades and clumsily raised them to her forehead, squinting through sleep-puffed eyes. Tess? Why are you…? What's the…?'

'You have to get out of bed! Hurry!'

'What's that…?' Her mother coughed.'… haze! It smells like…'

'Smoke! The house is on fire! Hurry, mother! You have to get out of bed!'

Shock jolted her mother fully awake. 'Fire? She fumbled at the sheets and squirmed to raise herself. 'Quickly! Call the Fire Department!'

'I can't!'

'What?'

'I tried! The phone isn't working!' Tess said.

'It's got to be working.' Her mother reached for the bedside phone.

'No! I'm telling you, mother! The phone isn't…! Damn it, come on! We have to leave!'