Hidden Talents

sort of consulting work isn't covered by my standard contract. I'd appreciate it if you would avoid all similar situations in the future.”
    “I will, if you will.” Serenity pressed her face into his coat and hugged him tightly. “Oh, God, Caleb, I was so scared when I heard those shots in the cave.”
    “Not any more scared than I was when I found out Kincaid had nearly strangled you. I'm going to have nightmares about that scarf for years to come.”
    “So will I.” Serenity opened her tightly closed fingers and glanced down at the griffin that lay on her palm. “Do you ever have the feeling that there might be something to Quinton's theories about intersecting planes?”
    Caleb looked across the street to where Zone stood very close to Blade. Her face was pressed against his shoulder. There was enough light from the lamp over Witt's End Grocery to see that she had her hand on one of the rottweiler's broad heads.
    “Not until tonight,” Caleb said.

    A long time later Serenity stirred in the depths of her bead-draped bed. The tiny bits of glass shimmered and clashed gently in the darkness. Caleb's leg slid reassuringly over hers.
    “Can't sleep?” he asked.
    “I woke up again a few minutes ago,” she admitted. “I started thinking about something Kincaid said while he had that scarf around my throat.”
    Caleb's arm tightened protectively around her. “Don't think about it.”
    She smiled ruefully. “I can't stop thinking about it.”
    “He's dead, Serenity. He can't hurt you.”
    “I know. Thanks to you and Blade.” She nestled closer against his sleekly muscled body, instinctively seeking the security of his masculine heat. She kissed his shoulder. “But I can't get his words out of my mind.”
    “Which words?”
    “He said that he had deliberately allowed Zone to see him last night. He wanted to terrorize her before he killed her tonight.”
    “A real son of a bitch.”
    “Definitely. But what bothers me now is that Zone told me she thought she had also glimpsed him in the fog the night Ambrose died.”
    “Maybe he'd instituted a campaign of terror,” Caleb suggested. “The guy was wacko, Serenity.”
    “I know, but he was operating under his own internal logic. He knew who Zone was, where she lived, what he planned to do to her. He took pleasure in telling me all about it. But he only talked about making one appearance at her window.”
    “He might not have realized that she had seen him the other time,” Caleb said. “He could have been prowling around, doing reconnaissance, as Blade would say, before he went in for the kill.”
    “I suppose so.”
    “You don't sound convinced.”
    “The thing that's bothering me is that you can just barely see Ambrose's back porch through the trees from Zone's front window. She told me that she was sitting at that window, meditating, the night Ambrose fell. She thought she saw someone in the fog.”
    “From all accounts, the fog was fairly thick that night. She might have seen a deer or Blade making his rounds.”
    “She only got a brief glimpse before whoever it was switched off his flashlight and was swallowed up in the fog. She didn't see him clearly, but she was afraid it was Kincaid.”
    “We'll never know for certain,” Caleb said.
    Serenity tried to see his face. “What if it wasn't Kincaid or a deer or Blade? What if it was someone on his or her way to Ambrose's cabin?”
    Caleb groaned and pulled her close. “So that's what this is all about. Your imagination has gone into overdrive. Having had a brush with one murderer, you're starting to see them everywhere.”
    “I'm serious, Caleb.”
    “So am I.” He rolled her onto her back and pushed up the hem of her nightgown.
    “Caleb?”
    “Let's see if I can give you something else to think about.” One hand closed around her hip as his mouth came down on hers.
    Serenity put her arms around his neck. He was right, she thought. She needed something else to think about tonight. As usual, Caleb had all the answers.

14

    T HE PUNGENT AROMA OF FERMENTING GRAIN FILLED THE small brewery room behind the bookshop. Caleb watched with interest as Quinton checked his vats. A new batch of Old Hogwash was being readied for bottling.
    “My special winter brew,” Quinton explained, peering at a dial. “I only make it once a year, to celebrate the coming of the winter solstice.”
    “I see,” Caleb said.
    “Got to keep a close eye on things at this stage.” Quinton made a small