investigation. What was so secret that she felt compelled
to hide it now?
I went to the kitchen sink and gazed out the window. It was
sunny outside and a faint breeze was blowing through the half-
106
open window. The air smelled crisp and fragrant with the musty,
almost sweet smell that came with fal . It was my favorite time of year. The curtain fluttered and I noticed a pair of Angel’s earrings on the windowsill. She was forever leaving her jewelry lying
about. Twice her wedding ring fell from the sill into the sink
drain and I had to pay a plumber for an emergency job. Not to
retrieve the ring, but to repair my retrieving the ring; I’m terrible with tools.
The earrings now on the sill were gold hoops with two garnet
stones affixed at the base. Each had a small diamond set between
them. I didn’t recognize them. While not unusual, Carmen’s re-
cent interview sent a tickle of doubt into me. The earrings were
strangely al uring as the sun glinted off the diamonds and sent
strobes of glitter into my eyes. When I reached out and touched
them, they seized me.
The room began to close as the diamond’s glitter flowed over
me like a river of light.
The familiar tingle of electricity grew inside me. Before I
could warn Hercule, the room spiraled into darkness and was
gone. The journey was not the comforting one I was growing ac-
customed to. Where the strange, flowing euphoria had filled me
before, dread did now. As the room disappeared, a vacuum
drained my energy—weakening me, drinking every drop of
strength. The glitter exploded and was gone, leaving me swal-
lowed in darkness. Ahead of me—at least I think it was ahead of
me—was a round, brilliant beacon. It grew from a pinprick in the
black veil to a blinding aurora. The light was driving straight at 107
me like a freight train. Then, just as it reached me, it burst in a brilliant flash.
It was gone—extinguished. Blackness returned.
I sensed the rain first—musty dampness of evening showers. I
looked around but couldn’t get my bearings. Cars and trucks
surrounded me—rows of all makes and models. Not far away
was a streetlamp that bathed the vehicles in cones of opaque,
rain-streaked light. Farther away, silhouettes of buildings and tall trees looked like a strange, evil skyline. The panorama was
dreamlike—faint, hazy images surrounded by nothing but the
feeling that I didn’t belong.
I was standing in a parking lot. A dark, rainy, unrecognizable
parking lot. It was night and I had no idea which day or place.
Something told me it was not the “when” I left moments before
either. The only thing that was certain was that I was alone. Not
just alone, but isolated and vulnerable. That unnerved me—un-
nerved me as it hadn’t since my demise.
My limbs wouldn’t respond. They were frozen in place. Un-
able to break free and find a familiar landmark, doom washed
over me. An eerie, penetrating cold touched me. I looked around
as a faint, almost benign sense of familiarity ebbed in. Terror followed it.
I saw him.
A figure, obscured in the trees beside the far edge of the park-
ing lot, edged toward the buildings a hundred yards away. The
figure was tall with broad shoulders, but I couldn’t see more than 108
an outline. The movements were a man’s stride and boldness. As
he passed near a street lamp, he pressed back into the trees and
hid from discovery. He emerged near the building’s courtyard
where it emptied into the parking lot. He stopped and melted
into the trees again. I lost him just beyond the fringes of light.
I knew he was there. I could feel him. I could feel his danger.
Fear tightened its grip and I felt sick, helpless, and weak. I
tried to move but my roots seemed more firmly planted than
ever. When the second figure appeared out of the courtyard, I
knew my role.
A witness.
The second figure came from somewhere in the courtyard
and walked into the parking lot with short,
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