Eye of the Beholder

gone until later, but since you're awake..."
    She eyed him. "This had better be good."
    He shrugged. "I woke up a few minutes ago and it occurred to me that the job of finding Liz Guthrie might move a little quicker if I took a look around her place. There might be something there that would point to where she went. Something it will take Okuda much longer to find with his computer."
    She felt her jaw unhinge. "Good grief. Are you telling me that you're trying to sneak out of here so that you can go break into Liz's house?"
    "Put like that, it lacks a certain air of innocence, doesn't it? But in a nutshell, yeah, that's about it. I was afraid that if you realized what I was going to do, you'd insist on coming along."
    "You got that right." She marched past him into the bathroom. "I'll be ready in ten minutes."
    She stepped into the shower and reflected on the vast sense of relief that was welling up inside her. The fact that she was about to accompany Trask on a little jaunt that could land them both in jail was a mere bagatelle compared to her fear that he had been walking out after their torrid two-night stand.
    Correction: Torrid two-night relationship.
    "Trask?"
    He got into the shower beside her and reached for the soap. "Yeah?"
    "What if Liz is home?"
    "In that case, I've got some questions for her."

    An hour later Alexa stood with Trask in Liz Guthrie's kitchen. She was aware that, technically speaking, dawn had arrived, but no one would ever know it here in the depths of Shadow Canyon . Outside the window, the trees that surrounded the house were dark, hulking specters.
    A chill of unease swept through her as she studied the darkened kitchen. She grimaced at the smell of rotting garbage. "So much for hoping Liz would be back by now."
    "She definitely left in a hurry. Didn't empty the trash. Forgot to lock all the doors and windows." Trask swept the beam of a small flashlight across the kitchen counter. "The question is why."
    "You think something scared her?"
    "Something or someone."
    Trask glanced back over his shoulder. "You okay?"
    "Yes." She was lying through her teeth, but she was not about to admit that part of her was braced to see a faceless figure armed with a knife explode out of a closet.
    "I told you it would be a bad idea for you to come with me," Trask said.
    "Yes, you did. But I'm here, so there's absolutely no point saying I-told-you-so. Let's just get this done."
    His brows rose. "We're a little tense this morning, aren't we?"
    "We haven't had our morning tea," she reminded him. "What, exactly, are we looking for?"
    "I'm not sure." Trask moved slowly into the gloom-filled hall. "But in keeping with the old adage about following the money, I'd very much like to find some business files."
    Alexa opened a cupboard with gloved fingers.
    "You're still convinced that whatever is going on is business-related?"
    "Dimensions Institute is, first and foremost, a business. And like I keep saying, this thing is linked to Dimensions. Got to be."
    She could not argue that point, she decided. She took out her own small penlight, switched it on, and trailed after Trask as he explored the dark, silent house.
    "The officer who responded to my call was right," she said, taking in the sight of the expensive-looking stereo in the living room. "There's no sign that anything has been disturbed. No wonder he told Strood that I must have been hallucinating."
    "He didn't tell Strood that you were seeing things."
    "Yes, he did. I overheard them talking when I came back from the ladies' room at the police station. He implied I was an hysterical female who had spooked at a shadow. Don't bother to deny it. Strood probably said as much to you."
    Trask opened a closet door.
    "Didn't he?" Alexa repeated grimly.
    Trask closed the door. "He did say something to that effect. I told him he was an idiot."
    She was oddly touched. "Thanks. I appreciate your faith in my mental health."
    "Hey, we paranoid conspiracy theorists have to stick together. After all, they're out to get us." He opened a door off the hall and aimed the flashlight inside. "We're in luck. There's a desk and some file cabinets in here. Looks like a home office."
    "Help yourself. I'll go check out the bedroom."
    "Remember, don't move anything," he said as he disappeared into the small office.
    "Don't worry, I've read enough mystery and suspense novels to know how to do this. I'll be careful."
    She walked down the hall and stopped in front of an open door. There