Silent Fall

other. Although I hope he treats her decently." Dylan paused as the dome of the Palace of Fine Arts came into view. "Look familiar?" he asked, pointing down the street.
    Catherine started and straightened in her seat. "I think that’s it."
    "Do you feel Erica again?" he asked, not quite sure how to phrase the question.
    "No, but I never know when it’s going to hit me. It comes when I least expect it. And frankly not usually in the daytime." She took a deep breath. "I’m almost afraid to let my mind wander. I’m not sure what I’ll see or if I’ll be able to handle it."
    "You can do it. You’re strong. And if you’re really connecting with Erica, then you might be able to save her life."
    "I’ll do what I can, Dylan. I can’t make any promises."
    "I never ask for promises, Catherine."
    "You wouldn’t. Because that way no one disappoints you."
    Her sharp words hit home. She was right -- again.
    He pulled into a parking spot near the grassy field next to the dome. There were very few people in the area, just a couple and their young son, who was dipping a toy fishing pole in and out of the lake that ran along one side of the rotunda. The Palace of Fine Arts, with its Greek and Roman architecture, had been built in the nineteen hundreds for the Pan Pacific Expo but now housed the Exploratorium. The beautiful grounds, the sloping lawn, the serene lagoon, the old rotunda with its dome and towering columns were also often used for wedding ceremonies. Dylan had watched two of his friends get married here last year. He could hardly believe he was back now trying to find the woman framing him for murder.
    Catherine zipped up her sweater as they got out of the car. The fog was moving farther inland, the thick mist sliding over the top of the building, blocking out the last of the afternoon sun.
    "This is definitely the place I saw in my head," she murmured, taking in their surroundings.
    He put a hand on her back as he scanned the perimeter. "Let’s check it out."
    They walked quickly to the rotunda. Once under the dome Catherine paused to look at each of the columns. After a moment’s hesitation she crossed to one of them, putting her hand on the cool stone. She took another step and then slid her body into the narrow space between the column and the building. She slipped back out a second later, her breath coming short and fast. "Erica was here, hiding behind that pillar."
    "There are people around. Who would try to kill her here?" Dylan pondered. "It’s too public."
    Catherine stared back at him for a long moment. "Something fell. I remember pulling on a chain around my neck, and..." Her voice drifted off as her gaze turned downward.
    Dylan saw what she saw a second later: a tiny gold cross lying on the ground, almost hidden in the dark shadows. He recognized it immediately, and his heart skipped a beat. "This is Erica’s. She was here." He couldn’t keep the amazement out of his voice. He hadn’t realized how strong his doubts about Catherine had been until this moment. Erica had been here, and Catherine had somehow seen it in her head. He’d wanted indisputable proof of her telepathy, and now he had it, because he couldn’t think of any other way Catherine could have put Erica in this location. He gazed back at Catherine’s face and saw the fire burning in her cheeks, the glittering light in her eyes. "Where is Erica now?"
    She shook her head. "I don’t know."
    He held out his hand, revealing the cross. "Maybe this would help."
    She didn’t make any move to take the cross from his palm. In fact, she looked as if it were the last thing she wanted to do. "I can’t."
    "It’s a direct link to Erica."
    "That’s what I’m scared of."
    "Then put your hand over mine." He closed his fingers around the cross and waited. "Trust me, Catherine."
    She looked him straight in the eye. "Do you trust me?"
    "I’m trying," he said. "You have to try, too."
    She hesitated another second, then tentatively put her hand over his. He felt a jolt of electricity zing through him. Their gazes met, clashed, clung. He couldn’t look away. She couldn’t either. This moment was about more than just the cross, more than Erica. It was about whether or not they could count on each other. And it shocked him to know he wanted to be able to count on her. He hadn’t felt that way about anyone in a very long time. He was tempted to yank his