Copper Beach

alerted him. Even a very small amount of impact noise traveled in steel-and-concrete buildings.
    Sam waited in the kitchen, watching the balcony from the shadows of the refrigerator. He gripped his most recent invention in his hand. It resembled a cell phone, but the crystal-powered device had a very different purpose. He was pretty sure that the theory behind the design was solid, but he had not yet had a chance to conduct any real-world experiments. Tonight promised to provide the opportunity for a field trial.

    His intuition had been riding him hard all day. It had spiked into the hot zone after dark. He had the sense that things were moving fast, and that Abby was in danger. He had not even tried to sleep tonight. He had spent the night mentally and psychically standing guard.

    Out on the balcony, a dark shadow appeared. It dropped easily down from the floor above. For a second or two, the newcomer dangled on the rope he had used for the descent. Then he stepped nimbly onto the railing and down to the floor of the balcony. It was clear he had done this kind of thing before. An expert.

    He left the rope dangling and moved swiftly to the sliding glass doors. A small tool of some kind appeared in his gloved hand. A moment later, the sliding glass door slid silently open.

    Chilled night air and faint currents of psi whispered into the room when the intruder entered. A talent of some kind, Sam concluded, and definitely a professional. It was a good bet that he had gained access to the building via the parking garage, always the weak point in the security system of any condo tower. Once inside, he would have had access to every floor and the roof.

    The intruder moved across the room, going directly to Abby’s desk with the certainty of a man who knew his way around the condo. That raised some intriguing questions, Sam thought.

    The guy had a second-story man’s sense of style. He had definitely nailed the cat-burglar look. He was dressed from head to toe in tight black clothing. A black stocking cap concealed his hair and all of his features except his eyes.

    At the desk, he stopped, flicked on a small penlight and began to sort through the mail.

    Sam walked out of the kitchen and around the end of the dining counter.

    “No need for that,” he said. “Abby went through her mail earlier this evening.”

    “What the…?” The intruder swung around, spearing the shadows with the penlight. “Who are you?”

    “A friend of Abby’s.”

    “No, you’re not. Abby doesn’t have any boyfriends. Who are you, and what are you doing in her place?”

    “I was just going to ask you the same question.”

    “Like hell.”

    The intruder sprinted for the open slider. Sam was already moving. He managed to seize the man’s shoulder and succeeded in touching the crystal device to his arm. He sent energy into the fake cell phone. There was a small flash of paranormal lightning. The intruder grunted and started to crumple. He struggled to straighten and resume his flight to the balcony, but he fell slowly to his knees, arms wrapped around his midsection.

    Sam yanked off the stocking cap, revealing platinum-blond hair cut in a short, crisp, vaguely military style.

    “What the h–hell d–did you do to me?” the intruder got out, teeth chattering.

    There was a sharp, excited yip. Newton charged into the room. He went straight to the intruder and started licking his face.

    “Hell of a guard dog, all right,” Sam said.

    Abby appeared. She had taken the time to pull on a robe. She had a large object clutched in her hands.

    “Sam.” Her voice was tight and anxious. “Are you all right?”

    “Yes,” he said. “Get the lights.”

    She flipped a wall switch, illuminating the heavy lamp she carried. Her eyes widened, first in shock and then in outrage, when she saw the man shivering in the middle of her living room.

    “Nick?” She put the lamp down on the coffee table. “What in the world are you doing here?”

    Nick gave her a disgusted look and continued to shudder. “Your taste in boyfriends is going downhill, Abby. This one just tried to kill me.”

    Abby glanced at Sam, frowning. “Whatever you’re doing to him, you can stop, at least until I decide whether or not to call the cops.”

    “He’ll be all right in a few minutes,” Sam said. “Probably.” He pocketed the crystal device. “I just temporarily shocked his senses. You know this guy?”

    “Nick Sawyer,” she said. She