Absolutely, Positively

preamble.

    Molly smiled. “Yes, thanks. I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself.”

    “I know.”

    Molly frowned. “Are you all right? You sound weird?”

    “Do me a favor and don't call me weird. Call me arrogant, pedantic, stubborn, or any of the other things you like to call me, but not weird, okay?”

    “Okay. You don't sound weird. You sound weary. That's what I meant to say. Weary. What's wrong?”

    “Olivia left a few minutes ago.”

    “Hmm.”

    “My cousin Brandon has decided to quit his job with the family firm. She wants me to talk him out of it.”

    “I see.” Molly hesitated. “Can you do that?”

    “I doubt it. I'm not sure I should even try. Can we reschedule dinner for tomorrow night?”

    Molly hesitated.

    “Please,” Harry said quietly.

    “Fine. I'll look forward to it. Oh, by the way, Harry, I just finished going through the newest stack of grant proposals, and I think I've found some really exciting prospects. I can't wait for you to take a look at them.”

    “Neither can I.”

    “You don't sound genuinely enthusiastic.”

    “I will be by tomorrow night.”

    “Right. It's been a very long day.”

    “Yes. Good night, Molly.” Harry paused. “Thanks for making the trip to Hidden Springs with me.”

    “I had a great time. I think Kelsey is right. I should get away more often. Good night, Harry.”

    Molly hung up the phone very slowly. She sat quietly for a while, listening to the sounds of the house. They were comfortable, familiar, soothing sounds. They were the sounds of home.

    She thought about Kelsey's advice to sell the mansion. It was probably the logical thing to do. But for some reason Molly could not envision such a move.

    After a time she put the last grant proposal on the pile and rose from the table. The lights in the kitchen winked off as she walked out of the room.

    She climbed the curved staircase and went down the hall to her bedroom.

    A short time later, she slipped into bed. She folded her arms behind her head and gazed up into the shadows for a long time. Eventually she turned on her side and fell asleep.

    Her dreams were an eerie collage of red kings, knives, and unseen menace. A muted whirring sound broke into them, exacerbating the sense of threat.

    It took Molly's sleep-drugged brain a few seconds to register the fact that the noise was not part of her dream. When she finally realized that something was wrong, fear sliced into her consciousness, bringing her fully awake.

    Molly opened her eyes in an instant of explosive terror. A dark figure cloaked in layers of black fabric was rising from the floor beside her bed. She had a glimpse of a skeletal face, yawning holes where eyes should have been, and a clawed hand.

    Molly was paralyzed. A scream got trapped in her throat.

    The figure leaned over the bed. The mechanical whirring grew louder. The clawed hand lifted in a jerky fashion.

    The instinct for survival unlocked Molly's frozen limbs. She shoved aside the quilt and managed to roll off the far side of the bed.

    She hit the floor with a jarring thud, scrambled to her feet, and ran for the door.

    The hall lights came on automatically in response to her frantic movements. Molly glanced back over her shoulder to see how close her pursuer was.

    That was when she realized that the thing from under the bed had not moved to follow her. It still hovered over the rumpled sheets, clawed hand frozen in midair. The whirring sound ceased abruptly, as though a switch had been turned off.

    “Oh, no,” Molly whispered. “Not again.”

8

    The shrill ringing of the phone cut into a dream in which Harry was dealing from a deck of cards that contained nothing but red kings. He knew he had to find the queen or all was lost. But the damn phone kept interrupting his concentration.

    He stirred and reached for the receiver with a mixture of irritation and foreboding. He glanced at the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. Calls at this hour invariably meant trouble.

    “Trevelyan here.” He hauled himself up against the pillows. At least he was out of the dream.For a while .

    “Harry, it's me. Molly.”

    The breathless tremor in her voice had the impact of cold water on all his senses. Harry was suddenly wide awake. Every muscle in his body hardened with battle-ready tension. “What's wrong?”

    “Something very strange has just happened. Remember the fake gun that someone left outside my door the other evening?”

    “Hell,