Ghostwalker 03 - Night Game

you be able to detect cancer?”

    “I’ve never tried.”

    “If she tried to kill you, Gator, would you be able to defend yourself against her, or would you allow sentiment to get in your way?” She asked it bluntly.

    “Don’t you think it’s a little late to be asking me that?”

    She had the grace to blush. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to turn. You’re heading back to the bayou and I think there’s a very good chance she’ll be in the same vicinity.
    Look in the blues clubs. She won’t be able to resist them. She has to have a dynamite singing voice—like you. And you’ll be there looking for information on Joy anyway.”

    “You’ve never heard me sing.”

    “I don’t have to hear it. I know you have the ability. I have no idea what Flame’s going to be like, and I’m sorry I’m dumping this in your lap, but I have all I can do trying to sort out the mess we’re all in. Something’s wrong, but I can’t figure it out.”

    “Ta1k to Ryland, Lily. That’s your first mistake, not trusting him to help you.”
    She hung her head. “I hate the way you all look at me.”
    “The guilt is in your own mind, Lily. I don’t blame you for what Whitney did. We volunteered. You didn’t.” “Please know I wouldn’t have asked you to do this, but I honestly believe it’s imperative to find Flame. She may be very sick.” “I’ll look for her, Lily.” “Thank you and please, Gator, be careful.”

CHAPTER 2
    C:\DOCUME~1\Owner\LOCALS~1\Temp\Feehan, Christine - %5bGhost Walkers 3%5d
    - Night Game (v1.5).html - chapter_1#chapter_1

    Four weeks later

    Gator shoved the gas hose into the tank of the Jeep and stretched his tired muscles while he waited for the tank to fill. Another long night and, if one considered listening to great blues music all night a failure, he’d had another unsuccessful search. He’d asked more questions and received absolutely no answers in his hunting for Joy Chiasson. No one seemed to know anything. Everyone remembered her beautiful voice, but no one knew any thing about her disappearance. Joy had completely disappeared and not a single person seemed to know anything about it.

    As for sighting Iris Johnson, he hadn’t even come close to seeing anyone who looked like her. He must have hit every club within five square miles while hunting for information on Joy’s disappearance and he’d still come up empty on both women. He’d taken personal leave and so had Ian. They’d been in the bayou nearly four weeks and they couldn’t stay there forever. If he didn’t find something on Joy soon, he would have to leave, and his grandmother’s heart would be broken. She was so certain he would solve the mystery of Joy’s disappearance and bring her home safely. He was beginning to believe that wasn’t going to happen.

    His restless gaze shifted in a continual sweep of the area. Recon. Always recon. He would never be free of the need to be on his guard. He’d picked the gas pump in the deepest shadow with the easiest exit back onto the street, and he’d done it without conscious thought. With a small sigh, he glanced up at the stars. He loved the night. It was the only time he felt truly comfortable, and tonight he needed a little comfort.

    He hadn’t thought all that much about a woman of his own, or a family. He wasn’t the kind of man to settle down, but Lily’s disclosure of genetic enhancement had hit him unexpectedly hard. For some reason he couldn’t get it out of his mind. In the beginning when he realized he could leap up onto a roof with little or no effort, he thought it was cool, an extraordinary side benefit of his psychic experiment. The word virus had never come into his mind, and neither had cancer. He’d never really questioned the physical things he could do and, other than the uses as weapons, he hadn’t discussed the enhanced physical abilities with the GhostWalkers. Maybe none of them really wanted to know, but now it seemed all-important.

    He hadn’t signed on for genetic enhancement. Psychic yes. As a child growing up, he had noticed he had some small psychic talent. Animals responded to him. Sometimes he caught impressions of what they were feeling. He had an extraordinary memory and his mind would figure out patterns the moment he saw them. He had exceptional hearing as well. Little things, nothing big, but he knew he could do things others couldn’t. Not wanting to be different, he’d kept it hidden, much like the