Dear Reader,

Did you ever get stuck in a rut for so long that it became comfortable? You know, that same ol’ route to work, while you nag about the bad road, when another road will take you there, a better road. It’s just not your road, so you forget about it?

Or perhaps the same meals each successive week. My mother did that. Monday night was tacos. The only kind we had in town that year were the frozen kind. Hmm. Yum. Sunday was roast beef. That was good. Thankfully I’ve forgotten the rest. Not that they weren’t good, but the same ones for each night of the week, over and over for ten years…

I’m not griping about my mother, though. She worked two jobs to put that food on the table.

Not all people have a good mother or an available alternate route. Some of us just have to stand and face the winds of life on our own and drive that same old route while we look for something better. Eat that taco Monday. But along the way, if life pushes you into the path of someone special, slow down. Reach out and offer a hand if they need help, or ask for help if you do.

In my story, lifelong bonds are formed when people stop to help each other—a girl struck by lightning, an investigator on the trail of a bad guy, plus a missing child whose mother is in a coma. Well, her body is. But since lightning has turned our heroine into a receptor of sorts, things get interesting.

Hope you enjoy my story. And if you do, please tell two friends.

Happy reading,

Janis Reams Hudson

Dedicated to
Sharon, for nursing me through this story
And Deb, the third sister in this deal

O ne minute she was jogging along, two blocks from home, enjoying the outdoors, the sunshine, the strong wind. Then suddenly, every hair on her body stood on end and the air exploded around her. The smell of sulphur nearly knocked her over, and a giant fist struck her in the chest and lifted her off the ground.

After that, Hailey Cameron didn’t know anything until she found herself lying flat on her back staring up at fluorescent lighting while two nurses and a doctor poked and prodded her. This time it was the smell of antiseptic that stung her eyes and nose.

“Honey, you must be the luckiest girl on earth.”

“Wha…?” She tried to ask what had happened, where she was, how had she gotten here, why her skin was tingling, could she have a drink of water, what day is it? But her voice wouldn’t work. Her fingers and toes seemed to move okay, but she couldn’t decide if what she felt overall was a dull ache or numbness or out-and-out pain. She felt vaguely as if she’d been run over by a truck. Twice.

“You just rest now, and lie still,” the nurse ordered. “You’re in Baton Rouge Hospital. Can you tell me your name?”

“Why?” Hailey managed.

“You got struck by lightning.”

“What?” Hailey struggled against the hands that held her down.

“Easy, now. Stop that. Can you tell me your name?” the nurse repeated.

“Hailey.” She paused and licked her lips. “Hailey Cameron.” She chose that moment to glance down. “Yikes! Why am I naked?”

“Relax, relax. Here.” The nurse covered Hailey with a sheet. “That’s better. We had to cut off what was left of your clothes to check you for injuries.”

“Cut them?” Hailey’s voice was coming back, and her brain was clearing rapidly. “You cut up my clothes? Am I supposed to go home naked?”

“You’re not supposed to go home at all,” the nurse announced. “Not until tomorrow. We don’t get all that many lightning strike victims. The doctor wants to keep you overnight for observation. And no, we won’t send you home naked. There wasn’t enough left of your clothes, anyway. The lightning shredded them.”

Hailey was so out of it that it took her a minute to grasp everything that had happened, especially that the doctor and nurses meant for her to spend the night in the hospital. She tried to gather enough strength to protest but found she’d used all her energy already. The few words she’d managed had drained her. She gave up the effort and dozed.

They woke her sometime later to tell her to lie still for a CT scan of her brain.

Then there were the X rays, blood tests, ECG and heaven knew what else.

She woke again in the middle of being transferred from gurney to bed in a semiprivate room. Room 312, they told her. Was she supposed to care about the room number?

The nurses tried repeatedly to get her oxygen to work, but no matter what they did, nothing came from the connection in the wall above her bed. No stream of oxygen, not even a puff.

“Stupid thing,” one nurse muttered. “Terry,” she said to the orderly, “see if there’s a concentrator in the supply closet down the hall. Not to worry.” She smiled at Hailey. “We’ll get you all fixed up in no time.”

Hailey could still feel a slight tingle along her skin. It might have been pleasant, but it was lasting way too long. To take her mind off it, she glanced around the room. Plain white walls, one window with white miniblinds, a white curtain ready to pull between her bed and the next one.

“Who’s that?” she asked, nodding toward the woman in the other bed. “What’s wrong with her?”

“That’s LaShonda Martin. Bless her heart, she was in that apartment building that was hit by the tornado last night.”

“Ouch,” Hailey said in sympathy. “Sorry to hear about your troubles,” she said, louder, so her roommate could hear her. “I’m Hailey.”

“Talk all you want, cher.” The nurse hung the IV from the bag holder beside Hailey’s bed. “She can’t answer. We’ve got her in a drug-induced coma until some of her injuries heal and she’s over the worst of the pain. Ah, here we go.”

The orderly wheeled in a machine that stood about as tall as Hailey’s bed and was about eighteen inches wide. He and the nurse fiddled with filters that looked like thin sponges, a humidifier for distilled water and a clear hose that connected to the tube running into Hailey’s nose.

“Oxygen?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. When we turn it on it will suck in air from the room. It will filter out all the nitrogen and impurities until all that’s left for you to breathe is pure oxygen.”

The nurse pushed the on switch, but nothing happened. She and the orderly fussed over the power cord.

Hailey swallowed and tuned out their voices. Her gaze trailed over to her roommate. If that tornado had touched down a mile sooner, that could be her in a coma in that bed by the window. “Is she in pain?”

“If she is,” the nurse said, “she doesn’t know it, so I guess she’s not.”

In the next bed, LaShonda Joy Martin tried to scream in frustration, but all she managed was a pitiful whimper she knew no one could hear.

Something was wrong. A lot of things were wrong, the biggest being that her son was missing. How could she find him if she was trapped in this ever-lovin’ coma? Yet, if she was in a coma, why could she hear and see everything around her? With her eyes closed. Why did she feel like she was floating in and out of her body, like gravity was letting go of her? If a good stiff wind blew through the room, she would be swept away from her body and right on out the door.

She wondered what they were talking about over there at the other bed. Could one of them find her baby boy?

She tried to raise her head, but it wobbled, then flopped down. Come on, dammit. She tried again with all her might, until finally she managed to sit up far enough that she could see the foot of her bed. She turned her head and saw the nurse, the orderly and her new roommate. And from the corner of her eye, she saw herself, lying on the bed.

Her heart leapt into her throat. How could she be lying down and sitting up at the same time? From her head to her toes, she started to shake. She shook hard enough to vibrate the bed. But the bed did not move. Not even the sheets moved.

From that odd machine the orderly had wheeled in a few minutes earlier came a long, loud beep. The air began to stir. The wind tugged on her. She grabbed the sheet to hold on, but when she closed her fist, there was no sheet in it. What was happening?

No matter how hard she tried to stay put, she was no match for the air current sweeping the room. She was being pulled inexplicably toward that noisy machine. But her body remained motionless on the bed.

A sudden swirl of air literally sucked her away. She screamed. No one heard her.

Like a heat-seeking missile, she shot headfirst into the air intake valve of the oxygen concentrator. She waited for the pain, waited to feel her flesh being peeled from her bones. But her body still lay on the bed behind her. She felt no pain at all. Only sheer terror as she was sucked through one filter after another, then up through a series of clear plastic tubes and…up her roommate’s nose?

Oh, my God.

The voice echoed inside Hailey’s head, sounding utterly miserable.

“How can she talk if she’s in a coma?” Hailey asked.

“Who?” the nurse asked, distracted, as she straightened a tube.

“Her,” Hailey said. “LaShonda.”

The nurse double checked the IV in Hailey’s hand. “She can’t talk, remember? She’s in a coma. She must have moaned.”

Hailey eyed the nurse warily. “So how come I hear her voice?”

Slowly, the nurse asked, “You’re hearing voices?”

“Only one. Hers, I think.”

A tearful voice rang inside Hailey’s head. You think? You think? Who else’s voice could it be but mine? I’m LaShonda Joy Martin. I’m right here in your head, and I’m not going anywhere ’til you help me find my baby.

Hailey stared at the nurse. “You’re telling me you didn’t hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Oh, brother,” Hailey muttered. “Am I losing my mind?”

“I doubt it,” the nurse said easily. “I’ll talk to your doctor, but it’s probably just some temporary leftover electrical mix-up in your brain from the lightning.”

The nurse patted her on the arm, then left the room, leaving Hailey alone. Sort of.

You gotta help me, the voice said.

“Says who? You’re an electrical impulse in my brain,” Hailey said firmly. “I don’t have to help an electrical impulse.”

I’m not any ol’ impulse. I’m LaShonda Martin.

“LaShonda Martin is in a coma. I’m staring at her right now.”

Yeah. Somebody oughta comb my hair for me. Damn. The latter came out in a deep-South two-syllable way, as day-yum.

“Your lips aren’t moving,” Hailey accused. “If I can hear your voice, why don’t I see your lips move?”

Because I’m in a coma.

“I rest my case,” Hailey said. “If you’re in a coma, you can’t be talking.”

A loud sigh echoed in Hailey’s brain. Look. My body is—

A dark arm—too dark for a simple tan—pointed toward LaShonda’s bed, and Hailey screamed, because both of her own arms—her own tanned but definitely Caucasian arms—were still lying at her sides.

Day-yum, white girl, hold it down, will ya? You nearly scared me to death.

“Me? Scare you? I’ve suddenly sprouted a third arm. What the hell is going on? How did you get in my head?”

Don’t you yell at me. It isn’t my fault I’m stuck in here like a sardine in a can. I was just lying there minding my own business, trying to stay in my body, but I kept floating up and out, ya know?

“No, I don’t know. You mean you died?”

No, I didn’t die. Look at those machines, all beeping just like they’re supposed to. I’m alive. But while my body’s in a coma, I guess the rest of me isn’t. When they turned on your oxygen machine I got sucked in, right through the filter and that skinny little tube, and straight up your dainty white nose. You ain’t lived ’til you’ve been up inside somebody else’s nose, let me tell you. It’s not something I ever wanna do again, that’s for sure.

“Well, then, get out,” Hailey demanded.

The voice was silent for several long moments.

“Hey.” Hailey felt stupid and self-conscious talking to someone who wasn’t there. “LaShonda? Did you leave?”

You told me to.

“Yes, but did you?”

There was a distinct sniff, then, I don’t know how.

“What do you mean, you don’t know how?”

I mean, I don’t know how to leave, LaShonda said, sounding very much as if she thought she was talking to an idiot.

“Why don’t I blow my nose?” Hailey asked tersely. “Maybe you’ll end up in my tissue.”

Oooh, gross. LaShonda made a gagging noise.

 

Out in the hallway, Aaron Trent, a special investigator for the District Attorney, folded his arms and leaned against the wall, waiting for the woman in Room 312 to finish her phone conversation. From the sound of things, she and whomever she was talking to were not getting along.

After nearly ten minutes, he was getting antsy. Somebody was going to call security on him for loitering if he had to hang around out there much longer.

Finally he approached the open door and leaned in…only to find, to his surprise, that the woman he’d been listening to all this time was not on the phone. She couldn’t even reach the phone from where she lay. She was talking to herself.

That fact took him so much by surprise that he must have made a sound, and he failed to duck back out of sight before she spotted him.

His brothers and sisters would give him holy hell for hanging around and waiting on a woman who spoke to herself. His grandmother would thoroughly enjoy the idea.

Not that he planned to tell any of them. He would never live it down. He took a deep breath, walked in and gripped the foot of the bedframe.

“Hi,” he offered with a smile.

She frowned. “Don’t tell me you’re another doctor.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.” She looked a little ragged, but not nearly as ragged as he’d imagined someone recently struck by lightning might look.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Aaron Trent. I’m a special investigator with the district attorney’s office.” He flashed his badge, then tucked it away. “You’re Hailey Cameron, the woman who was struck by lightning this afternoon, right?”

“Unless there’s someone else around here with singed hair and shredded clothes.”

He narrowed his eyes with interest. Shredded clothes? So does that mean you’re—

She stared right back at him. “Don’t be ordinary, Mr. Trent.”

Aaron straightened in surprise. He knew he hadn’t spoken aloud. Had she read his mind? Regardless, he’d learned long ago from the women in his family that if a man was in doubt, the best course was to apologize. It didn’t matter if he’d done anything wrong or not; he just needed to apologize. He gave Hailey a short bow. “My apologies.”

Her gaze sharpened. “For what?”

“For being ordinary?”

“Nice save. What do you want with the woman who got hit by lightning?”

“I’m actually looking for the woman who lives in the white house on the corner of the street you were on when the lightning struck you. I understand you run the same route past that house nearly every day. Maybe you’ve seen her lately? She’s elderly, stooped shoulders, white hair.”

“You seem to know a lot about her…and me.”

“That’s my job, finding out information. Do you know the woman I’m talking about?”

“Mrs. Shelton?”

Aaron felt the tension between his shoulder blades ease. “So you know her.”

“I do. I’ve missed her lately, though. Haven’t seen her around. Is she all right?”

Damn. He’d been hoping…“I’d know more about that if I could find her. How well do you know her?”

“She likes to interrupt my jogging by standing on her porch with a glass of iced tea or lemonade for me, with enough sweat dripping off the glass to make me beg. Gets me every time. I can’t imagine she’s done something to warrant the D.A. sending out a special investigator.”

“Ah, no. I just have a few questions for her. I’m trying to find her nephew. I was hoping she could help me.”

She shrugged, then twitched, as if she’d been slapped, or maybe poked. “Maybe you could help a, uh, friend of mine. Help us find her little boy.”

That was just about the last question he’d expected her to ask. He was no expert on finding missing children, but wasn’t it the same as finding the bad guys who took them? He could find bad guys. He was good at that. He’d done it as a cop, and he was still doing it. He was after one right now.

“What happened to the kid?” Aaron asked Hailey.

She had a way of tilting her head before speaking, as if thinking over her words before opening her mouth. Or perhaps listening to some inner voice before she spoke. It was an odd habit, but her smile was so distracting that he might not have noticed the way her gaze turned inward if he weren’t a trained observer. And if he didn’t have Claudia Jean Trent for his grandmother.

“The tornado,” Hailey said.

“The tornado took him? Somebody must have found him by now,” Aaron stated. “When was he reported missing?”

“Not the tornado, after the tornado. He never got reported missing until now because I—” She stopped and swallowed. “Because his mother has been in a coma since they brought her to the hospital.” She waved her arm toward the other bed.

“She’s the boy’s mother?”

“That’s right. LaShonda Joy. Martin. LaShonda Joy Martin.”

“She and the boy—”

“Keenan. Keenan Martin. Four years old. And beautiful.” Emotion made her voice wobble.

“They lived in that apartment complex that got hit last night?”

“Yes. But they came through the tornado fine,” she said in a rush. “There was plenty of damage to their unit, but they rode it out in the bathtub with a mattress on top of them.” She paused again.

“And…?” he prodded.

“And…a man came and pulled the rubble off of them. He took Keenan and said he would get him out of there before anything else fell down on them, and then he’d come back for LaShonda. He was only going to the street, so she thought it was okay.”

“Did the guy come back for her?”

“We assume he did.”

“Assume?”

She nodded. “Someone beat the daylights out of her. I’m told it took the surgeons all night to put her face and skull back together. They’re keeping her in a drug-induced coma for now to help her heal better. When she wakes up, the first thing she’s going to ask for is her son. I have to find him, but I have no idea what to do, other than go to the police.”

“That’s exactly what you should do. It’s been, what, around eighteen hours since the kid went missing? That’s an eternity in cases like this. When will you be able to get out of here?”

She made a face. “Tomorrow.”

Aaron didn’t recall making a conscious decision; the words came out of his mouth all on their own. “I’ll take care of getting the police started today.”

It was a no-brainer, really, on more than one level. There was the personal man-woman level that would have had him licking her boots if she’d asked. On the cop level, there was a scary similarity to the case he was currently working on, which involved children stolen from their families and sold into slavery, mostly overseas.

How convenient was it that he’d come here seeking information about that child-stealing creep Charlie Howard and run into a woman whose child was missing?

Aaron didn’t believe in coincidence, not when it came to chasing after bad guys. Even if the missing child in this case had nothing to do with Charlie, there was a reason why he’d been brought to this room, to this woman. At some point that reason would become clear. Meanwhile, he wanted to help find the boy. He could get the investigation started today.

“Can you? Really? Oh, thank you, Aaron.”

The way her smile lit her eyes made him want to lap her up, one long stroke of his tongue at a time.

“LaShonda,” Hailey continued, “will be so grateful.”

Aaron wanted to ask if she would be grateful, too, but he swallowed the words. It was definitely too soon to make an ass of himself. Especially when she was holding something back.

“What aren’t you telling me?” he asked her.

Her brow wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said in his lead-’em-where-you-want-’em-to-go voice, “the man took the boy away, and then she was in the hospital having her face put back together. Why did she only assume the man came back?”

“Why?”

“Yes, why?” he asked.

She made a low growling sound somewhere deep in her throat. “Why? Why…because…because she…When she came to for a few minutes in the hospital, the last thing she remembered, she was uninjured and the man was taking Keenan away. She had no memory of getting the crap beaten out of her, yet when rescue workers found her, she had two broken arms, a broken leg, and Lord knows how many head injuries. We hope when they bring her out of the coma that she’ll be able to describe what the man looked like, because he seems like a logical suspect, don’t you think?”

Aaron nodded and mulled over everything Hailey had told him. On the surface, it sounded credible. Why, then, did he still feel as if she were leaving something out? Something important.

T he next morning, Hailey woke with a groan. She heard a deep, loud groan inside her head, along with a soft day-yum.

Oh, hell. “LaShonda.” Hailey blinked her eyes open. “You’re still here.”

Where else you think I’d be, girlfriend?

Hailey stared grimly at the woman in the next bed. LaShonda’s lips did not move when she spoke. “Back in your own body. Would that be too much to ask?”

You think I like being stuck inside a white girl? Not on your life, sister. But I’m here, so you’re all I’ve got to help me find Keenan. You still gonna help me?

“I talked to Aaron about it yesterday, didn’t I?”

Ah yes, Aaron. He looked like a keeper to me, LaShonda said. You think he’ll really help you?

“Us. I think he’ll help us. But either way, when I leave here today, I’m going straight to the police to report Keenan being kidnapped.”

LaShonda gasped. I’ve tried not to think that word, but he was, wasn’t he? Kidnapped.

“If that man took him like you said he did, then yeah, I’d say kidnapped is the word,” Hailey said. “We need to figure out how to get you back into your body.”

Good luck with that. You think I haven’t been trying all night? It seems like the harder I try to move, the more frozen in place I become.

Hailey would have asked a dozen questions, made a hundred suggestions and at least one demand—get out of my head—but just then a cheerful teenager in a candy-striper smock brought in a breakfast tray. Before the girl made it back out the door, a nurse arrived with a sickeningly cheerful “Good morning,” singing it out as though it were her own personal morning anthem as she took Hailey’s blood pressure, pulse and temperature.

Hailey was relieved to find out that her vital signs were normal. She felt a little stiff and achy—okay, maybe a lot stiff and achy—but otherwise fine. Her mind was certainly clearer than it had been yesterday.

It was nearly noon before things fell together. She was eager to go home, dressed in the borrowed scrubs the nurses provided, and ready for the required wheelchair to carry her to the front door of the hospital. She reached for the phone beside her bed to call for a taxi, but Aaron Trent walked in before she could finish dialing.

She hung up and greeted him.

“What are you doing here again?” she asked, smiling at him, amazed at the way her pulse spiked when he smiled back.

“Thought I’d offer you a ride home.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“No, but on the drive to your place I can tell you about the file I got them to open for the kid, Keenan.”

“Oh, Aaron, thank you.” Inside her head, LaShonda practically wept with joy.

The door swung open, and the doctor entered with a large X ray in one hand. He glanced at the wheelchair, then at Hailey. “Oh, no, don’t think you get to leave us this soon.”

“I thought you said I was fine,” Hailey protested.

“I said you seem fine, but there was a shadow on that last head X ray we took this morning, so we need to get a new shot to make sure.”

“A shadow?” Hailey’s mouth turned to cotton. “On my X ray?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She realized with a frown that he had yet to look her in the eye. She could have blood gushing from her head and he wouldn’t have noticed. “Doctor?”

“Mmm?” he replied, still distracted.

Hailey glanced at Aaron, who was also frowning at the doctor.

“Humph,” he said. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that we double-exposed your film—which, now that we’re digital, just doesn’t happen—or you had a friend in there with you.”

Jeeze Louise, Hailey thought. Had some out-of-body form of LaShonda shown up in the X ray?

“LaShonda Joy,” Hailey chided the unconscious woman in the next bed, “have you been playing around in my X rays?”

The doctor, who looked as if he might have started shaving sometime during the past six months, laughed. “I guess it did sound a little crazy. Come on, Ms. Cameron, let’s get a new picture of your head.

The orderly turned Hailey’s wheelchair toward the door and pushed her forward.

Hailey looked back at Aaron. “Do you have time to wait? I’d really like to talk to you.”

“I’m in no hurry,” he said. “I’ll wait here while you get your picture taken. Smile and say lightning.”

 

While Hailey got her follow-up head X ray, she tried to think of a legitimate reason to send Aaron on his way and call for a cab to take her home.

So why was she searching for an excuse to turn down his offer of a ride home, when she wanted very much to accept it? Since she had asked him to wait for her, to help her find Keenan.

She wanted to tell herself that she had only asked because she needed his help. But she knew better. Above and beyond that perfectly legitimate reason, she just flat-out wanted to spend time with him. Wanted it so badly that it tugged hard and deep inside her, taking her by surprise with its strength.

Must be a leftover side effect of the lightning, she thought. That bolt of electricity had left her off balance. That was her story, and she was sticking to it.

 

The new X rays—they took two, just in case—came out clear, so Hailey and Aaron were soon on their way. Halfway to her apartment Hailey thought to ask, “How do you know where I live?”

“Hey, I’m a detective, remember?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

LaShonda laughed inside Hailey’s head. He’s gotcha there, white girl.

“Shut up,” Hailey muttered.

“Pardon?” Aaron asked with a frown.

“Sorry. I was talking to myself.”

“You seem to do that a lot.”

“I do?”

“You remind me of my grandmother.”

Feigning outrage, Hailey slapped him on the shoulder with the paperwork the hospital had given her when she checked out. “Are you saying I look like—” She realized that she hadn’t looked in a mirror since she’d left her house the day before to go jogging. Considering that she felt as if she’d been run over by a semi, she probably looked as if she had been, too. “Never mind.”

Aaron chuckled. “I didn’t mean you look like my grandmother, I meant you act like her. She talks to herself, too. At least, that’s what it looks like, but she swears she’s talking to ghosts, that she can see them, hear them.”

Hailey glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Ghosts?”

“The dearly departed. Earthbound spirits. Whatever you want to call dead people who hang around instead of going off to their great reward or whatever.”

“And you let her walk around on her own? When did she have her breakdown?” Hailey was nearer and nearer her own breakdown by the minute.

Aaron laughed. “Wait ’til you meet her. She’s sharp as a tack and saner than most people you’ll ever know.”

Block by block, they drew closer to Hailey’s apartment. When they arrived, he parked on the street in front of her building. The 1840s redbrick structure was split into eight apartments, four upstairs, four down. Fortunately the plumbing and electricity were much newer than the building itself.

“Nice place,” Aaron told her.

“I like it. The owners live downstairs, so they spend the time and money to keep things in good condition, especially on the outside, but they’re pretty good with indoor repairs, too.” Listen to me, rattling on like an idiot, she thought. Maybe I really am losing it. “Thanks for the ride home.”

“You’re welcome.”

Hailey placed her hand on the door handle and looked over at him. LaShonda had been right—he looked like a keeper, with his dark brown hair and eyes, that sharp jawline, those taut cheekbones. Not to mention lips that looked designed for kissing.

She swallowed and looked away. “I’d invite you up for a drink or a snack, but truth be told, I’m still pretty much out of it.”

“Of course you are,” he said.

“Tell your grandmother hello for me,” she added.

“I’ll be glad to. But it’s my grandfather,” he said, as he exited the car, “who used to say that a gentleman always walks a lady to her door.”

Hailey got out and stood on the sidewalk while he walked around the car to join her. “He did?” she asked.

“He did. Always,” he said. “Every time. No excuses.”

Hailey bit back a smile. “Am I to assume that you learned this lesson?”

“Since we’re halfway to your door, that would probably be a safe assumption.”

It had been a long time since a man had walked Hailey to her door. A long time since she had allowed one to. A long time since the possibility had even arisen. The series of losers she’d dated during the past couple of years had all but ground her interest in the opposite sex into dust.

But at the moment she didn’t feel like saying no to this particular man.

She didn’t know whether to be thrilled at the idea or run screaming in the opposite direction.

He walked beside her up the sidewalk and stood back while she unlocked the front door.

She turned to thank him and say goodbye but never got the chance.

“After you,” he said. “Which unit is yours?” At her enquiring look he added, “This is not your door.”

“Two-A.” She led the way up the wide staircase to the second floor. With every aching step, she wished she’d taken the elevator. So much for trying to look fit.

At her front corner apartment, she once again unlocked the door and stepped inside, then turned again to thank Aaron but stopped abruptly.

At the hospital, she’d known she probably looked like death warmed over, so she hadn’t dared to look in a mirror. The scrubs, for which she was admittedly grateful, were a singularly unflattering shade of baby-puke green.

Her recovery time, she’d told herself, would be that much faster if she didn’t see firsthand how washed-out she looked. Ignorance, they said, was bliss.

Until it came back and slapped you in the face, which was what it felt like when she accidently caught a glimpse of her reflection in the wall mirror next to the door. The sight that greeted her stopped her heart, then drew a scream from her throat. That was not her face in the mirror.

Well, it was her face, but it was also LaShonda Martin’s face, like a transparent mask laid over Hailey’s own.

Both faces, and both voices, screamed.

Aaron’s training and instincts shot into action. He jumped in front of Hailey and placed himself between her and whatever danger had terrified her into screaming. In less than a second he had his gun out and aimed at…the mirror? The wall?

“What the hell’s going on?” he demanded. He could see every square inch of the entry from where he stood. There was no one there but Hailey and himself. Two steps gave him a complete view of the kitchen, dinette, and living room to his left. Three steps to his right he found a bathroom, then a bedroom. He finished by checking the closets and under the bed. There was not another soul in the place.

“Hailey?” he asked, his heart still thundering.

“I’m sorry.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I was just surprised.”

“By what? You sounded like you’d been surprised by your friendly neighborhood axe murderer.”

“Oh, come on.” She reached deep inside herself for control. “The way I look right now, I’m surprised you and everyone else haven’t screamed on sight of me.”

He narrowed his gaze and studied her. He looked at her so long that she found herself shifting beneath his stare.

“Was that the first time you’ve looked in a mirror?”

“Since I got fried? Yes. I’m a mess.”

Aaron holstered his weapon, then propped his fists on his hips. “I don’t think so.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No matter how good you’re used to looking, the way you look right now isn’t near bad enough to make you scream like you’ve just seen a giant wart on the end of your nose. Besides, I don’t see you as being vain enough to care that much about your looks. So I ask again, what on earth scared you half to death?”

Hailey took a slow, deep breath.

LaShonda snickered. Yeah, and don’t think I’m not insulted that you’d take one look at me and scream.

“Shut up,” Hailey muttered.

Aaron threw both hands in the air. “Fine. I’ll be back in an hour—”

“No,” she told him. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t talking to you.”

“You weren’t telling me to shut up?”

“No. As for the screaming, the fact is, I am that vain.”

“If you weren’t telling me to shut up, who were you talking to?”

To a woman who’s in a coma back in the hospital, she answered silently. Like he would believe that. She didn’t believe it, and it was happening to her.

Tell him, LaShonda dared her. Tell him the truth and see what he’s made of. Go on, I dare you.

“I was talking to this stupid voice I keep hearing in my head,” Hailey said.

“Yeah? That’s the second time you’ve told that little voice, the one only you can hear, to shut up since we left the hospital.”

“That’s because that little voice in my head talks too much.”

Hey, white girl, I resent that.

“At the risk of sounding like a broken record,” Hailey muttered, “shut up.”

“There you go again,” Aaron said.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

“I’ll be back in about an hour to take you to the police station.”

“Fine. I assume that’s to find a missing child and not to have me arrested for talking to myself.”

“I don’t think that’s against the law.”

Before he could blink, Aaron found himself outside her closed door. He tried to recall if he’d ever been put out of a woman’s home so gently yet firmly, but, no, he decided this was a first for him. Hailey Cameron was a first for him.

Not the voices she heard. Women who heard voices of people who weren’t there were nothing new to him. But a woman who had him volunteering to haul her around town without even hinting she might enjoy the ride, a woman who didn’t seem to care one way or the other if she ever saw him again, and still he volunteered? Very definitely something new.

“W e have an errand to run before we go to the police station,” Hailey told him when he returned to pick her up and they were back in his car, pulling away from the curb.

“We do?” Aaron asked.

“Yes. We need to go by LaShonda’s apartment and find a picture of Keenan for the cops.”

Aaron scowled at her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He huffed out a breath of disgust. “I should have thought of that myself.”

Most of the tornado damage at the two-story Willow Crossing apartment complex—where LaShonda and one hundred and twenty-seven of her nearest neighbors resided—was confined, structurally speaking, to the upper floor.

Streets in the neighborhood were still blocked off due to downed trees, limbs and other debris. Aaron had to park three blocks away, and then they were forced to walk, giving them a chance to admire the lovely blue tarps and sheet after sheet of plywood covering gaping holes in roofs up and down the street.

With LaShonda giving directions inside Hailey’s head, the party of three—two?—proceeded to LaShonda’s building, halfway along the front side of the complex, facing the communal courtyard.

The courtyard boasted a small patch of thick grass, a couple of picnic tables and a swimming pool that had surely once been pristine but now was littered with mud, leaves, patio furniture, trash—you name it.

Inside the apartment, the bedroom windows provided a scenic view of the parking lot, currently littered with piles of debris from the storm. Random furniture, crushed and overturned cars, broken trees and limbs of all sizes. What trees were left had had the bark stripped off by the tornado. The parking lot looked like a war zone.

The apartment itself was pretty much a disaster, with half the roof gone, followed by wind and rain damage, and the occasional tree limb or two that had blown in. The hole in the roof was covered with a bright blue tarp to keep out whatever it could until real repairs could be made.

Inside the apartment, so many small things had oddly remained in place: a ceramic set of redbreasted bluebirds on the sill over the sink; a shelf of books and children’s CDs on the far wall.

Oh, God, LaShonda wailed in Hailey’s head.

Hailey wanted to wail with her, but she swallowed her words of sorrow and sympathy. She couldn’t explain herself to Aaron, and the words wouldn’t help get things done.

“Okay.” Hailey rubbed her hands together. “If I were a picture of Keenan…”

LaShonda sniffed. You’d be in that photo album next to the CDs. Please, God, let it have survived. Her tear-filled whisper echoed through Hailey’s brain.

Hailey reached for the photo album and found it in perfect condition. Thumbing through the book, she found dozens of pictures of Keenan and LaShonda, and other family members and friends.

“They’ve got quite a family going here,” Hailey said to Aaron.

“Can’t be as big as mine,” he told her. “What about you? Big family?”

She shook her head. “Just me.” She sounded so pitiful, even to her own ears, that she forced herself to focus on the album. Most of the photos it held were of Keenan. “What an adorable kid.”

“He’s a winner, all right,” Aaron said.

They thumbed through the album until they found a recent five-by-seven they thought would be a good one for the cops and the media, including the Internet, to use.

“We’ll make copies,” Aaron muttered, glancing around the room. “Does your friend have insurance to take care of this mess?”

Startled, Hailey held her breath. “Insurance? LaShonda? I…”

Yes! LaShonda cried. Oh, thank God. I hadn’t thought of that.

“Yes,” Hailey said. “Yes, she has insurance. As soon as I’m finished at the police station, I’ll get in touch with the insurance company and see what they can do to help.”

The voice in Hailey’s head, the sniffing and soft crying, stopped. Her mind and LaShonda were quiet.

“I hope Ms. Martin knows what a good friend you are.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” Hailey protested.

Ms. Martin’s learnin’ fast, LaShonda said. You’re the best, white girl.

For one irrevocable moment, Hailey forgot to watch her words around Aaron and spoke directly to LaShonda. “Just out of curiosity, since you feel free to call me White Girl all the time, I’m guessing you won’t mind if I call you Black Girl?”

All sound seemed to be sucked out of the room. For a long moment, not even their breathing broke the silence.

Finally Aaron spoke. “This time you have to tell me what’s going on.”

Thinking of trying to play dumb one more time, Hailey opened her mouth to deny knowing what he was talking about.

He beat her to the punch. “And don’t bother telling me you don’t know what I’m talking about. Who are you talking to? Trust me, I’ve heard it all, so you won’t surprise me.”

“You say that now,” Hailey muttered.

What’re you going to do? LaShonda asked her.

Hailey shook her head. “Maybe I’ll surprise you after all,” she told Aaron. “I’m talking to LaShonda Martin.”

“The kid’s mother?”

“Yes.”

“The woman in the other bed in your hospital room?”

“One and the same.”

“But she’s not dead. Is she?” he asked, his brow furrowed with obvious concern.

“No, she’s not dead. She’s in a coma.”

“She’s in a coma,” Aaron repeated. “In the hospital.”

“That’s right,” Hailey assured him.

“She’s in a coma, in the hospital,” Aaron repeated, and started ticking items off on his fingers. “And you’re here, several miles away, and you’re talking to her. You can hear her, and I can’t. Can you see her?”

“It’s complicated,” Hailey said.

It’s a cop-out, LaShonda said. You’re a wimp, white girl.

“Will you shut up?” Hailey demanded. “I’m telling him, aren’t I?”

Aaron rubbed his hands together like a pirate getting ready to count his booty. “Oh, this is going to be good, I can tell.”

“You enjoy watching someone have a breakdown right before your eyes?” Hailey said. Her hands were shaking.

“A breakdown?”

“That’s what they call it when a person starts hearing voices, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Or maybe that’s what they call it when you try to change the subject and avoid answering the question.”

“I’m not trying to change the subject.” Hailey took a deep breath to calm her nerves. “It’s just that nothing like this has ever happened to me before. It’s a little unsettling.”

“Nothing like what? Like hearing voices?”

“Yes. But it’s really only one voice.” She decided to ignore the moment back in the hospital when she’d known quite clearly that he was thinking about her naked.

“LaShonda Joy Martin.”

“That’s right. My hospital roomie.”

“She’s in a coma, but she can talk to you? How does that work?” Aaron asked.

He was way too accepting of the idea of her hearing voices. He should be skeptical, at the least, rather than looking her up and down, making her spine tingle. Why wasn’t he laughing at her, or scoffing, or shaking his head and walking away? Just because his grandmother claimed to talk to ghosts? He didn’t really believe her, did he?

“Talk to me, Hailey. Tell me what’s going on.”

“It happened at the hospital,” she said. Once she started, the words wouldn’t stop. She told him all she and LaShonda knew, or guessed, about how the other woman’s spirit had ended up inside her head.

“How long have you known each other?”

“Now you’re talking like a cop, trying to put words in my mouth. LaShonda and I have never met. I mean, we never even heard of each other until they hooked me up to that oxygen machine. I inhaled, and there she was, talking from inside my head.”

“So she’s not a ghost.”

“That’s right.”

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get to the police station so you can file a report about the boy.”

Keenan. His name is Keenan, LaShonda said.

“LaShonda says his name is Keenan.”

“Right. Sorry. We’ll stop on the way to the station and make copies of Keenan’s photo so we can put the original back.”

“That’s all you have to say? I tell you I have conversations with a coma patient, and you say we’ll stop and make copies?”

“Hmm. You’re right.” He grabbed her gently by the shoulders and kissed her hard and quick. He gave her a grin. “This is where I’m supposed to ask if you’re crazy. Are you having a breakdown? Going schizo on me?”

Hailey sputtered. He’d kissed her, and now he was all but laughing at her. Hailey stiffened her shoulders and turned toward the door. She might not be going schizo, but any moment she was going to start drooling. “Let’s get to the police station before I start to drool.”

He laughed as he followed her out the door and down the stairs.

They made color copies of Keenan’s photo, then drove to the police station. Aaron was treated by everyone there as one of their own.

Hailey didn’t know what to think of this man who rolled so easily with whatever punches came his way. Punches such as a complete stranger who talked to herself. He acted as if she was normal, the day was normal, and everything was right with the world.

He led her into a large open room filled with desks and what sounded like two million ringing telephones. They stopped beside a desk near the back corner, and Aaron introduced her to Officer Mike Fontain, who had already started the paperwork for Keenan based on Aaron’s input earlier. Now, with Hailey’s information, especially Keenan’s photo, they could move ahead.

Hailey gave Officer Fontain all the information she had and, with LaShonda’s help, answered all his questions. They worked for a time with a sketch artist until they had a vague picture of the suspect. It wasn’t much, because LaShonda couldn’t remember the man’s face.

“All right.” Fontain pushed back his chair and stood. “Hope Howard’s not in on this. We’ll get this photo out, and we’ll add it to the Amber Alert right away.”

“You’ve already put out an Amber Alert?” Hailey asked.

“As soon as Aaron came in yesterday afternoon,” Fontain told her.

Inside Hailey’s head, LaShonda gushed her thanks at the officer and begged Hailey to kiss the man and worship at his feet, if he would only find her baby boy.

Hailey smiled but otherwise ignored her.

Once they were all back in Aaron’s car, he offered to buy lunch. Because she was hungry, Hailey accepted. She told herself it had nothing to do with not being ready to leave his company.

Hailey was usually comfortable being alone. She considered herself an independent woman, more than capable of taking care of herself. Most of the time she preferred her own company to anyone else’s. She saw plenty of people at work, and that was enough socializing for her. Especially since she’d caught her boyfriend of two years ago, dear ol’ Randy, cheating on her with one of her best friends, dear ol’ Donna. Hailey hadn’t been the most open or trusting person since then.

Yet today she didn’t want to be alone. She found Aaron interesting, wanted to trust him. Did trust him.

When would she ever learn?

Maybe it was because she had come close to dying, or realizing how lucky she was compared to LaShonda. Or maybe it was simply the magnetic pull of the man behind the wheel.

“Where were you thinking of eating?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. Let me check something.” He placed a call on his cell phone. “Hey, beautiful, what’s on the menu today?” He lowered the phone and looked at Hailey. “How’s your cholesterol?”

“My cholesterol’s normal to low. How’s yours?”

“Mine’s fine and dandy. You up for the world’s greatest pork chops, breaded and fried, with fried okra, mashed potatoes and the equally sinful works?”

“It sounds delicious.”

“We’re on our way,” he said into the phone. “Two for lunch. I’m not going to be seeing my brothers or sisters, am I? Great. Thanks. Be there in twenty.” He disconnected and clipped the phone back to his belt.

“No brothers or sisters? Where are we going?” Hailey asked, her heart speeding at their teasing banter.

“How freaked out are you going to be when I tell you I’m taking you to my grandmother’s for lunch?”

Even LaShonda fell silent at that.

 

Claudia Jean Trent lived in a beautiful old two-story Victorian in the quiet countryside beyond the Baton Rouge city limits. Tall, glossy-green magnolia trees decorated the huge yard, with rows and pools of flowers—reds, yellows, whites, purples—and shrubs ranging from dark to light green in various beds around the house, up and down the front yard, following every curve, every bend, every sidewalk.

There was enough work here, Hailey thought, to keep a full-time gardener busy on the flowers alone. She sincerely hoped Aaron’s grandmother had regular help.

Aaron barreled up the circular gravel drive and parked near the front door. By the time he exited the car, rounded the hood and opened the passenger door for her, the cloud of gravel dust raised by the car had wafted away in the warm southern breeze.

He opened the front door without knocking, just stepped inside and took Hailey with him.

Sudden nervousness seized her. He had brought her home to meet his grandmother. What did it mean? This couldn’t be the same as a guy taking her home to meet his mother, surely. They hadn’t known each other that long, or in that way.

So what was this all about?

“Aaron, why are we here?” she asked quietly in the doorway before anyone saw them.

Oh, sister, why do you want to rock that boat? LaShonda cried.

“What do you mean?” Aaron asked. “We’re here for lunch.”

LaShonda gave out a hoot.

“Come on,” Hailey told him. “We could have eaten lunch anywhere, but you bring me to your grandmother’s. I figure you must have a reason for bringing me here other than her pork chops.”

He placed his hands lightly on her shoulders and looked at her for a long moment. Long enough to make Hailey want to squirm.

“All right,” he said. “I wanted you to meet Gran. When you do, I think you’ll see why.”

“Why don’t you just tell me?”

“You know that voice you hear in your head?”

“LaShonda,” Hailey said, defiant, daring him to argue that she was making it all up.

“Gran is going to understand what you’re experiencing.”

As if hearing her cue, Claudia Jean Trent stepped into the entry hall. “There you are, Aaron, dear.” She reached out to hug her grandson.

“Gran.” He returned the hug.

Hailey smiled and looked on. At a guess, Aaron was around thirty-five, so his grandmother must be about seventy-five. She looked more like sixty, with salt-and-pepper hair, smiling blue eyes and enough wrinkles around her face to give the impression of a life well-lived, filled with her share of both pain and laughter.

“Who have you brought with you, dear?” She turned toward Hailey, and her smile froze in place. “Oh, my heavens. Pardon me for asking, but do you know you’re not, uh, not alone?”

“You can see her?” Hailey asked, her heart racing.

You can see me? LaShonda asked at the same moment, with a quiver in her voice.

“I can see both of you, which I’m sure is why my number-three grandson brought you to me, isn’t that right, Aaron, dear? Why don’t you run off to the kitchen and get us each a tall glass of sweet tea, while this lovely lady—both lovely ladies—come with me to the parlor, so we can get to know each other.” She turned and threaded her arm through Hailey’s. “I’m just dying to hear how you ended up this way.”

Hailey felt as if a whirlwind had swept through the house and rearranged things to suit Mrs. Trent’s wishes. Before Hailey could blink or LaShonda could comment, they found themselves in what must have been the parlor in question. The room looked out over the front yard. Drapes, walls and furniture all gleamed in white and gold, with turquoise accents. Definitely a woman’s room. A lady’s room. Dainty and spotless.

“My goodness, where are my manners? I didn’t even give poor Aaron a chance to introduce us. I’m Claudia Jean Trent. You can call me Claudia Jean. And you are?”

“I’m Hailey Cameron.”

I’m LaShonda Joy Martin. Can you really see me? Can you hear me, too?

“Yes, I can.” Claudia smiled. “How did you end up in there? Are you dead, sweetheart?”

“No,” Hailey responded.

No, LaShonda said. I’m in a coma, at the hospital.

Hailey smiled. A small sense of relief filled her, the first since realizing she was no longer alone in her own head. “And you can speak for yourself.”

How about that? I can.

It took only a few minutes for Hailey and LaShonda to explain their situation to Claudia. Halfway through the telling, Aaron brought in a round of tall glasses of sweet iced tea, and a tray of carrot sticks, stuffed celery, cauliflower and broccoli and joined the women.

“What can they do, Gran?” he asked when the tale was told.

“Seems to me they’re doing it already. They’ve both received medical attention, they’ve accepted that they are, shall we say, psychically joined. They’ve got you and the police looking for the child, and you’ve started securing LaShonda’s belongings.”

“But we can’t seem to separate,” Hailey pointed out.

“Ah, yes, there is that,” Claudia said. “Why do you think you can’t return to your own body, LaShonda?”

Hailey could practically feel LaShonda blushing beneath Claudia’s steady gaze.

Well, if I knew that, LaShonda griped, don’t you think I’d do it?

“Would you?” Claudia asked.

Hailey gnawed on the inside of her jaw to keep from butting in and blaming LaShonda for staying in her body to force her into searching for Keenan. As if Hailey could have turned away from such a plea from a woman who, at present, had no way to help herself.

Of course I would. On the other hand, if I go back to my body and get stuck in the hospital, who’s going to remind white girl here to keep looking for my son?

“I see.” Claudia took a sip of tea and sat back in her seat. “I can understand that.”

“Is she giving you a line about needing to make sure Hailey keeps looking for her kid?” Aaron asked.

A small chuckle of laughter slipped from Hailey’s mouth. “I forgot. This time you’re the only one in the room who’s different. Now everybody can hear LaShonda except you.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s nothing new around here, believe me.”

“I beg your pardon?” she asked.

“Ladies,” Claudia called. “Come out and meet our guests.”

“Wha—” But that was as far as Hailey got before two figures shimmered into view, as if generated by the wave of a moviemaker’s magic special effects wand. First a faint outline, then it started to fill in, fading and glowing, fading and glowing, until each figure settled into a steady visual image standing on either side of Claudia’s chair.

Suddenly they were no longer glimmering images. As if Scotty had beamed them up, they were women, solid flesh-and-blood bodies. Hailey could see their chests rise and fall beneath their period costumes. One woman wore a soft gingham dress trimmed in white ruffles, while the other dressed in dire black, with her dark hair pulled back sharply from her face into a tight bun at her nape.

“So,” Claudia said to Hailey, “you can see them.”

Hailey swallowed. “Wh-who?”

I see them, LaShonda stated. Who are they?

The woman in black sighed. “More people to talk about us as if we’re not here, Claudia? How tedious.”

Oh, we see you, all righty, LaShonda shot back, so you can just wipe that attitude off your face.

“Hush up,” Hailey warned. If she could have, she would have jerked on LaShonda’s arm. She had the feeling that Aaron thought his grandmother might be able to help them in some way. She didn’t want to make her mad by having LaShonda’s mouth running off at her…friends.

The woman in black stiffened, perhaps in offense.

Claudia chuckled. “It’s all right, Hailey. I can’t recall the last time anyone but me could see or hear Marva or Mrs. Porterman.”

“I don’t understand,” Hailey said, her nerves clacking.

“I imagine it is a tad confusing,” Claudia said.

“Ah, Gran, the master of understatement.” On their own, Aaron’s words might have stung. They were, however, said with a smile and followed by a wink.

None of which did anything to help Hailey understand what was going on.

“You didn’t tell her,” Claudia said.

He reached over and touched the back of his grandmother’s hand. The smile in his eyes softened. “Not everything. It’s yours to tell, Gran, not mine.”

“Smart boy,” Claudia told Aaron. “You bring me this lovely young woman, and she brings me her friend. Both of them can see and hear my friends. You might want to keep this one.”

“Gran,” Aaron warned, “let’s get back to the subject. Both of you can see things other people can’t. Hailey’s ability started when she was struck by lightning the other day.”

“And LaShonda’s alive but in a coma,” Claudia said thoughtfully. “That’s a new one on me. Maybe it’s because of the drugs they’re using to keep you unconscious?”

If I’m new to you, LaShonda said, that means they’re…dead?

“Yes,” Claudia said.

“But…how can that be?” Hailey asked.

I’d say, when you’re dead, you’re gone, LaShonda said. But then, here I am, hanging out inside a white girl, so what do I know?

“Sometimes,” Claudia said, “the spirit of a dead person simply isn’t ready, or willing, to leave, to go…wherever it’s supposed go. Sometimes it needs help, or needs to offer help. That’s what people like you and I are for,” she said to Hailey.

“To help them?” Hailey asked, not sure she was ready or willing to accept such a responsibility.

Like, to help me find my Keenan, LaShonda said.

“That’s right,” Claudia agreed.

“While we’re doing that,” Aaron said, “maybe one of your ghosts will help me find Charlie Howard.”

“Who is he?” Hailey asked.

“He’s that guy I told you I’m looking for. His aunt is the woman you jog past every day. The one we talked about.”

From there the conversation traveled from the fancy parlor to the comfortable eat-in kitchen, where Claudia served the salad. While they ate, she checked the pork chops in the oven and the vegetables on the stove.

She agreed with Hailey that LaShonda needed to return to her own body. Marva and Mrs. Porterman recalled the days shortly after their own passings—the only things they could compare to her coma. They remembered how weak they had been, how disoriented. It had been weeks, months, before they’d felt in control of themselves and learned how to navigate through the new dimension in which they found themselves. How to live with the frustration of not being seen or heard by anyone but Claudia Jean and an old hound that lived in the barn.

“LaShonda doesn’t have weeks or months,” Hailey said. “In a day or two they’re going to pull her out of her coma and someone needs to be in there.” She tapped a finger to the side of her head.

“From what Marva and Mrs. Porterman went through,” Claudia Jean said, “the best thing to me would be relaxing. Both of you. That might help LaShonda ease back into her own body.”

The two ghosts agreed.

Relaxing sounded easier said than done, when so much counted on it, but Hailey and LaShonda agreed to give it their best that afternoon.

After the meal, everyone helped clean up, then Hailey, LaShonda and Aaron headed back to town.

 

“What do you think?” They were a mile from his grandmother’s house before Aaron spoke.

“I think your Gran truly loves you, to allow you to show up with our kind of trouble,” Hailey said.

“But did it help?” He couldn’t believe how much her answer mattered. How much he wanted to be able to help her. “Can you use anything she and her pals had to say?”

Hailey chuckled. “Her pals? Oh, God, they would love that.”

“You’re not angry with me for butting in on your and LaShonda’s problem?”

“Never.” She reached out and covered the back of his hand with hers, where he gripped the gearshift. “I’m grateful,” she said, giving his hand a slight squeeze. “I know what to do now. And I know I’m not losing my mind. That I’m not the only person who hears voices. That LaShonda’s not the only invisible person floating around.”

Without thinking, Aaron turned his hand and threaded his fingers through hers. “You’re not losing your mind, and you’re not going through this alone.”

“I’m not?”

“You’re not.”

“Thank you.” She squeezed his hand again. “When you drop me off at my car, I’m going straight to the hospital and give LaShonda a chance to relax.”

E xcept for the hum and beep of life-affirming machines, dusk was quiet in LaShonda’s hospital room.

In the morning the doctor was going to bring LaShonda slowly out of her coma.

Hailey could feel LaShonda’s spirit relaxing. The visit to Aaron’s grandmother had given the other woman the confidence she needed to let go of Hailey and return to her own body. Thank God for that, Hailey thought. Thank God for Aaron and his family.

Somehow, throughout lunch, Hailey had managed to learn more than a little about the Trent family. First, it was large. She wasn’t even certain how many brothers and sisters Aaron had, but there were several. Then came the aunts and uncles and cousins, at least half of whom had children of their own.

Hailey had been an only child of older parents, each one also an only child. They’d died before she reached her teens. Foster care had bounced her around until she had aged out of the system.

She’d never had a roommate—except at a foster home.

She’d never had a best friend.

She’d never had a brother or sister, never gotten close enough to any of her foster siblings to think of them that way.

She once developed a crush on one of her older so-called foster brothers and learned quickly enough not to trust boys.

She had learned that she was her own best friend, and she liked it that way.

Maybe those things helped explain why she had taken to LaShonda as well as she had. They’d been together less than two days, but it felt much more permanent to Hailey than anything she’d known as a child. Yes, she looked forward to recovering her privacy, but having someone to talk to whenever she wanted was a heady thing. Sort of like a best friend and sister rolled into one.

Maybe she had been lonely after all.

Not that she thought LaShonda necessarily returned the sentiment. The woman had her own family and, undoubtedly, friends. In fact, tomorrow should see the arrival of an aunt from New Orleans, who would look after LaShonda while she mended and help her get her home and life back together as the police searched for Keenan.

Thoughts of Keenan brought thoughts of Aaron. To Hailey’s shame, Aaron quickly crowded the young boy from her mind. Tomorrow she would start seeing what she could do to help search for Keenan, but she had to go back to work at the restaurant tomorrow evening.

For now, she would let herself think of large, loving families who produced intriguing men such as Aaron Trent. If she let herself, she could still feel the taut skin across the back of his hand where it rested on the gearshift knob. His warmth had surprised her. She’d been even more surprised when he had turned his hand and threaded his fingers through hers. The mere memory weakened her joints.

You’re thinking of him, aren’t you?

Hailey gave a start. “LaShonda? You sound different. Are you all right?”

Good way to change the subject, girlfriend, but I’m back where I belong, if that’s what you mean.

It took a moment for Hailey to realize what LaShonda meant, and then…

Hailey had expected that once she had her body back to herself once more, that feeling of loneliness she never let herself acknowledge would seep back in again. If she were honest, she had to admit it was one reason why she stood at the entrance to a popular restaurant and greeted the diners every evening. Faux family.

Looking at things now, she could see that it was the reason she jogged three miles every other day—to outrun the emptiness.

That it was the reason she stopped and visited with an elderly lady over a glass of lemonade mid-run—to relieve someone else’s loneliness as well as her own.

But for the past couple of days she had felt the need for neither the diners nor the jogging. She’d had Aaron to share herself with. And she’d had LaShonda. Temporary, both of them, to be sure, but she’d had them. It was surprising how good that felt.

Not so surprising was the burning in her eyes and the closing of her throat when relief for LaShonda swamped her. The fear had been larger than Hailey had realized that LaShonda would not be able to return to her own body. Ever.

Fear of losing Aaron still weighed like a ball of ice in her gut, but the fear of sharing her mind with LaShonda forever was gone. In the odd mixture of remaining fear and sheer relief, Hailey’s composure crumbled.

 

It was late when Aaron finally made it to the hospital to check on Hailey. He hadn’t meant—hadn’t wanted—to leave her there alone with LaShonda so long, but he’d wasted two hours trying to connect with a particular informant who might have a line on Charlie. He’d also tried again to reach the elderly lady Hailey jogged past every day. No luck there, either.

The air-conditioned interior of the hospital revived him from the heat of the day. He pushed open the door to LaShonda’s room and nearly fell to his knees.

The light was low, and all he heard over the quiet beeping and whooshing of the machines that carried LaShonda through her coma was the soft weeping of a woman.

Without question, he knew it was Hailey.

When his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw her, slumped in her chair, shoulders shaking, face and fists buried in the bedding at LaShonda’s hip.

Thinking the worst had happened, his heart filled with dread.

“Hailey!” He rushed to her side and slipped his arms around her. “Hailey, honey, what’s wrong? Did we lose her? Talk to me. Is she gone?”

“Gone? No, no. She’s good. She’s fine. She’s back.”

He was too busy nuzzling his nose into the warmth of her neck to realize what she was saying at first, and then it hit him.

“What?”

“She’s back.”

“You mean…back? As in, back in her own body?”

“Ye-yes.”

Aaron’s heart rate settled slightly at the news. Still, her tears touched something inside him that he’d thought never to feel. He hadn’t known he even had that soft spot deep inside. “Then why are you crying?”

“Relief. I was afraid she wouldn’t be able to get back to herself in time.”

“In time?”

“The doctor’s coming in the morning to start pulling her out of the coma.”

“Doesn’t sound like fun. Are you going to be here for that?” he asked.

She started to pull away and sit up, but he tucked her head into the crook of his neck and held her closer, as if they sat this way every day.

She shifted around, then finally settled. “Yes. Seven a.m. Shirley, her aunt, is coming up from New Orleans to be here for her.”

“You sound exhausted,” he said. She felt more frail than he’d realized, too.

“I wasn’t tired until LaShonda said she’d made it back. Then I just…went limp, I guess.”

“No wonder,” he told her. “With the way you’ve been going these past couple of days. Why don’t I take you home so you can get some rest?”

“I haven’t done anything but sit around,” she protested.

“Yeah, with another person hanging out in your head. That, plus getting struck by lightning, plus spending the night in a strange place, where nurses wake you up at regular intervals to make sure you’re asleep. Then you go through a tornado-damaged building. Then you have lunch with ghosts. And that was only half your day.”

“Okay.” She laughed. “I think I’m too tired to argue.”

“There. You admitted it,” he said. “You’re tired. LaShonda, I’m taking her out of here for a while. We’ll be back in the morning, when they turn off your juice and bring you out of hiding. I’ve never had injuries as severe as yours, but I’ve had my share, so trust me, you’re going to want to ask for more drugs. Lots of drugs.”

Against his shoulder, Hailey shuddered. “You never said why you’re not a cop anymore. Did you end up with a drug habit from your hospital stay?”

He pulled her to her feet and walked her toward the door. “No, no drug habit, from the hospital or elsewhere. I took one to the shoulder. Tore up my rotator cuff and cost me too much range of motion to pass the annual physical.”

“Took one? You mean…you were shot?”

“Yeah. It happens now and then in my line of work.”

“I’m sorry. It must have been hard to accept the loss of your job.”

“Yeah, it’s been hard. But it might not be permanent,” he said. “If I can find the right therapy to get my range of motion back, I might be able to pass the physical again.”

“Really?” She raised her head from his shoulder and looked up at him.

Aaron met her gaze with wonder. Her eyes glowed like a small child’s at Christmas, having been told that Santa was on the roof.

“Why do you care so much?” he asked.

She ducked her head and looked away. “It’s in your eyes, how much you think of yourself as a cop.”

With one finger to her chin, Aaron turned her head and peered down into her bright blue eyes. “You’re pretty observant.”

“It’s what I do, observe people.”

“You do? Why is it that the only thing I seem to know about you is that you work at Chez Gigi?”

“You know that much? I don’t know why you don’t know more. We’ve been best friends for, what, less than thirty-six hours?”

Outside, the parking lot was well lit. He walked her to the passenger door of his car and opened it with a flourish that would have been grand if he’d worn a cape. “Your chariot awaits. Hop in and I’ll take you home.”

“My car’s over there.” She nodded toward her small car, parked another ten yards away.

“I’ll take you home and bring you back in the morning,” he offered.

“Thank you, but that’s too much trouble for you, plus it leaves me stranded at home if I decide I want to go out tonight.”

He leaned one arm on the open door of his car. “If you’re too tired to drive…”

“I’m fine, really,” she offered.

“If you say so,” he said as he walked her to her car. “I’ll just follow you home to make sure.”

“I wonder what that says about you, that you would go to the trouble,” she said. “I wonder what it says about me, that I don’t seem to mind. If anybody but you said they were going to follow me home, I’d accuse them of stalking.”

“It says that you have excellent sense.”

Hailey chuckled. “Says you.”

Aaron’s cell phone rang. He pulled it from the case on his belt loop and read the text message on the screen. “I guess my stalking days are over, at least for now,” he told Hailey.

She reached for him. He stepped into her embrace and hugged her.

“You have to work?” she asked.

“An informant has some information on Charlie Howard.”

“Your bail-jumping child stealer?”

“That’s the one. You’ll be here in the morning for LaShonda?” he asked. He ran his hand up and down her arm.

“At seven, yes. You?” She wanted to curl up against him and let whatever happened happen.

“I’ll be here,” he said. “I won’t be able to stay long, but I’ll be here in case she wakes up with perfect memory of the man who took Keenan.”

“I won’t be able to stay long, either,” she admitted. “I have to go back to work tomorrow at four. Before that, I want to see if there’s anything I can do to help look for Keenan. And I’m going to start jogging again.”

“Do yourself a favor and check the weather first, please.”

“Don’t remind me. I’m trying not to think about lightning, or I might be too scared to run.”

“Think about this instead.” He turned her in his arms until they were aligned chest to chest. Their mouths met, tasted, toyed with each other. Then they parted and said good-night.

 

The first thing Hailey did when she made it home was sleep. She dreamed of kissing Aaron. When she woke it was the middle of the night, and she felt slightly disoriented. She had her life back. She knew she had to go to work that evening, even looked forward to it. But for now, she was alone with her thoughts.

Her thoughts turned to LaShonda. She was looking forward to being there for the next step in LaShonda’s recovery.

She wondered what it said about her that she was looking forward even more to seeing Aaron again.

 

7:00 a.m. came at its usual time, and Hailey was at the hospital a few minutes early. She turned the last corner before LaShonda’s room, and there stood Aaron. At the sight of him, her heart jolted.

“Hey,” she said in greeting. It was so good to see him.

“Morning.” He stood back and allowed her to enter the room before him.

She paused in the doorway, her shoulder brushing his chest. She could feel his gaze on her and couldn’t help but look up at him. When their gazes met, she felt the remnants of lightning dancing down her spine.

A sound from near LaShonda’s bed drew their attention. They tore their gazes apart and stepped through the doorway.

The room was already so crowded, Hailey was afraid someone would throw them out. She saw one doctor, three nurses and a woman who had to be LaShonda’s Aunt Shirley, whom Hailey had met by phone the day before. Add Hailey and Aaron, and LaShonda herself, and the head count peaked at eight. That was a lot for such a small room. Thankfully the second bed was still empty.

Hailey probably should have hugged the wall to keep from getting in anyone’s way, but she needed to let LaShonda know she was there. So she made a place for herself at the bedside opposite the doctor and touched LaShonda’s free hand.

“I’m here, girlfriend, just like I promised. Aaron’s with me, and Aunt Shirley’s here to take care of you. Now it’s your turn to do your thing and wake up when the doctor says, okay?”

She squeezed LaShonda’s hand again, then stepped back toward the wall. Instead of a cool, solid wall at her back, she felt a warm, sculpted chest. Two strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. Her heart stumbled.

For fear Aaron would let go of her if she so much as breathed, she stood still and stared as the doctor fiddled with the IV in LaShonda’s arm.

In a short time, LaShonda groaned. Her eyes blinked open. They were the color of dark coffee, and filled with pain and tears. Her lips, nostrils, eyes and ears were swollen and the only things not covered by white bandages. She looked straight at Hailey, and her eyes slowly blinked again. Her lips moved.

Hailey leaned forward and touched LaShonda’s hand again. Aaron moved, too, staying pressed against Hailey’s back.

“LaShonda, it’s me, Hailey.”

“White girl,” Hailey managed to say through cracked lips.

Relief flooded Hailey. LaShonda remembered the time she’d spent out of her body. How miraculous, Hailey thought.

She repeated to LaShonda what she’d said mere moments ago, letting her know specifically that Aunt Shirley was there for her. “You made it, girlfriend.”

“Day-yum.”

Hailey laughed. “That’s right. Day-yum.”

And then LaShonda closed her eyes and fell sound asleep.

 

As they left the hospital room together sometime later, Hailey wanted badly to think of a reason not to part company with Aaron, but she couldn’t think of one. The independent woman in her insisted she was glad they weren’t going to be together for the rest of the day. She didn’t need a man in her life. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. She earned enough at her job to support herself in a comfortable style. She was more than content with her own company. She even liked to travel alone.

Her happiness did not depend on anyone other than herself.

A man was handy now and then for sex and for moving heavy furniture.

If only she could believe herself.

H ailey and Aaron parted company in the hospital parking lot. He had to check in with the district attorney’s office. Hailey had to do…something.

Jog. She wanted to jog. She felt the need to stretch her muscles and exercise her lungs. To run away from these conflicting feelings of needing to stand on her own and wanting to lean on—and lap up—Aaron Trent.

She threw on a pair of running shorts and shoes, and an oversize New Orleans Saints T-shirt. She clipped a bottle of water and her cell phone and keys onto her belt loops, and trotted out the door.

Outside, the morning sun burned the bare skin of her forearms. She made a U-turn and slathered on plenty of sunscreen, then hit the sidewalk again.

The sky was a clear summer blue. Not a bolt of lightning in sight.

She stretched out her legs and hit her stride in less than a block. She started out on her usual route, with plans to cut it in half and jog only one and a half miles this first time out after a couple of days off.

A few blocks later she neared Mrs. Shelton’s house, hoping the woman was home and offering her usual lemonade.

She was one house away when she was hit by disappointment at finding the front porch empty. No sweet gray-haired lady, no sweaty pitcher of lemonade beside two gleaming glasses. Not plastic cups, but crystal glasses. Mrs. Shelton’s motto was Only the Best.

Hailey forced herself to maintain her pace as she jogged past the house.

A loud crash from inside stopped her cold. Two voices, a man’s and a woman’s, rose in anger. Another crash.

Hailey started up the sidewalk. At the front door, she rang the bell and pounded on the door.

“Mrs. Shelton? It’s Hailey, Mrs. Shelton. Are you all right?”

No answer.

“If I don’t get an answer, Mrs. Shelton, I’m calling 911.”

The response was barely audible. “I’m fine.”

Hailey called 911 anyway and explained the situation, adding that Aaron Trent with the district attorney’s office was looking for the woman who lived there. Then she pounded on the door again and tried the doorknob, which turned beneath her hand, so she let herself in.

The door slammed back at her, and hit her hard in the head and shoulder. Hailey stumbled and cried out.

“Interfering bitch,” a man snarled.

Hailey put to use all the various self-defense classes she’d taken over the years, kicking out sideways and taking him hard in the thigh.

Damn. A few inches short of her mark.

Across the room, Mrs. Shelton struggled to get to her feet. A trickle of blood streamed down one temple.

Outraged on behalf of the woman, Hailey whirled on the assailant. “You bastard.” This time she aimed her fists at his head. “Who do you think you are?” She hit him again with a jab to his shoulder.

He hit back with a punch to her face that knocked her into the end table beside the sofa. When she straightened, he was swinging at Mrs. Shelton with a knife.

The older woman screamed, “Charlie, no!”

“Shut up, Auntie, and gimme my damn key.” He lunged and sliced her arm open from shoulder to elbow.

Oh, God, Hailey thought. This was the nephew Aaron was after. The bail jumper. The child stealer.

She threw herself at his back and pulled with all her strength to get him away from his aunt. She managed to knock the knife from his hand. He dove for it, but she held on to him, making him fall short of his goal by bare inches.

They rolled across the floor, trading punches, crashing into furniture. Sheer terror kept Hailey from giving in to the pain of his blows.

Charlie got his hands on his knife again and lunged toward his aunt, with Hailey wrapped around his legs.

“No!” Hailey cried. She managed to pull him back just barely enough to keep him from stabbing his aunt.

He kicked out with one boot and caught her in the chest, knocking the breath out of her.

There was a loud crash and a scramble of voices. Hailey knew she was losing it, because one of the voices sounded like Aaron. She gasped harder to bring air into her tortured lungs. Please, God, just…one…breath.

“Easy, baby.”

A familiar hand reached for her arm.

“Just breathe. In and out, real slow. Don’t panic. Just breathe. It’ll happen, baby, don’t be afraid.”

If strength of will could make a difference, she would breathe again. She would do whatever it took to keep feeling that hand on her arm. Her gasping breath wheezed in and out of her throat so loudly that she could barely hear him, but Aaron’s voice soothed her enough to allow her airways to relax in small stages. They had to relax, because if she couldn’t breathe again, she would die. And if she died, she would never feel Aaron’s touch or hear his voice again.

“That’s it, baby,” he told her. “Stay with me and just breathe. That’s it.”

Finally, slowly, Hailey managed to drag enough air into her lungs to make her think she perhaps wasn’t going to die after all.

When Aaron realized she was breathing, he lowered his forehead to her shoulder and started shaking. Damn, he’d nearly lost her. He barely knew her, but he knew enough about her to want to know more. Time and time again she put herself out for the sake of others. LaShonda, Keenan, Mrs. Shelton.

When was the last time someone put her first? When was the last time she allowed such a thing? He wanted, he realized as her breathing settled to normal, to be the person she let get close to her.

“Aaron.”

“Thank God,” he said fiercely.

“You came.” She struggled to sit up.

He shifted her until she sat and leaned against him, then held on as tightly as he could without hurting her. Around them, the room was in chaos, with police and EMTs everywhere. Charlie Howard, being handcuffed and dragged out the door, was cussing a blue streak. His aunt, Wynona Shelton, five feet from where Hailey and Aaron sat, moaned quietly while the EMTs stanched the bleeding from the long cut on her arm, and the several cuts on her hands and face.

Hailey looked worried. “Is she going to be all right?”

“Looks like it,” Aaron said. “I’ll check when they’ve had a few more minutes with her.”

“Hailey?” the older woman called weakly.

“Mrs. Shelton? I’m over here. Are you all right?”

“Am I all right, young man?” she asked the EMT.

“You’re going to be right as rain, ma’am. Just a few cuts that will probably pain you some for a bit. And we need to take you in for some X rays and to check for any internal injuries, or maybe a mild concussion.”

“My. Did you hear all of that, Hailey?” Mrs. Shelton asked faintly.

“I did. I’ll come by the hospital and check on you, so you do what they tell you, all right?”

“Yes, dear.”

After a few minutes the EMTs lifted Mrs. Shelton onto a gurney and wheeled her out of the house.

“Oh, thank God.” Hailey went limp in Aaron’s arms as she watched Mrs. Shelton being carried away and let relief wash through her veins. The steely warmth of Aaron’s arms around her gave her the security she needed—security she hadn’t realized she lacked or longed for—to release the tight rein she usually held on her emotions and let her tears free.

“I hardly ever cry,” she managed to say between sobs.

“You go ahead and cry all you want,” he told her, rubbing his hand up and down her back. “Just keep breathing.”

“It’s like all I ever do is cry around you.”

Aaron held her close and let her cry. Her tears opened a yawning hole deep inside and pulled him in.

Dear God, he’d almost lost her before he’d even realized how important she was to him.

“Not true, not true. You’re no crybaby. Today you were Wonder Woman.”

 

The next few hours went by in a fog for Hailey. EMTs poked and prodded her. Aaron encouraged them, over her objections, to take her to the hospital.

She lost that argument. She barely even remembered it a few minutes later.

Sometime after that, there were nurses, a doctor, and more poking and prodding. A bandage here and there. A prescription for painkillers. Swallow this antibiotic. A call to her boss to say she wouldn’t be in that night.

She remembered spending an eternity in the waiting area for word on Mrs. Shelton, with occasional forays to see LaShonda, who was still sleeping, this time thanks to painkillers and plain old exhaustion. Aaron was with Hailey every step of the way.

“Why don’t I take you home?” he offered when they came back from LaShonda’s room. “You’re exhausted. Let me drive you home.” He looked at her quizzically. “Why are you smiling?”

“I don’t get babied often,” she said. “It’s kind of fun.”

He brushed a finger across her cheek and smiled. “I’m glad to be of service.”

“Why don’t you be of further service and find out how much longer it’ll be before we can see Mrs. Shelton?”

“Now you’re taking advantage of my willingness to please.”

“And you’re pointing this out because…?”

“Thought you’d want to know—I like being taken advantage of.” He left her in her hard plastic chair and crossed to the information desk just down the hall.

He was back in no time, shaking his head as he took the seat next to her. “Nothing yet. She said it shouldn’t be much longer.”

“Isn’t that what they said more than an hour ago?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I wanted to ask, I mean, I’ve been curious.”

“About what?”

“About what you see and hear now that you don’t have LaShonda in your head.”

“So far everything’s normal. No ghosts or other spirits. I wonder if I went back to your grandmother’s, would I still see her friends?”

“All we have to do is drive out there and find out,” he offered. “What are you going to do if you start seeing ghosts of your own?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ll just have to take them as they come. Does the idea bother you?”

“That you might have ghosts hanging around you? Not a bit. Neither will it bother me if you never see another one. Makes no difference to me.”

Before long Aaron went again to find out about Mrs. Shelton.

He made three more trips like that throughout the evening before they, along with the police, were allowed to see Mrs. Shelton.

Hailey ignored the cops and their questions, and held Mrs. Shelton’s hand to offer the woman, and herself, whatever comfort could be found.

“Mrs. Shelton,” Aaron said softly from behind Hailey’s shoulder, “what set Charlie off? Why was he so mad today?”

“I lost his key,” the woman said.

Hailey leaned forward, knowing this was important. “What key?” she asked.

“That spare key he gave me, the one to the shed.”

O ne of the cops stepped forward immediately and asked, “What shed?”

Unfortunately, Mrs. Shelton didn’t know the answer to that question, and she didn’t remember where the key was, either, since Charlie had given it to her five years ago, so they couldn’t use it to figure out the location, which Aaron suspected with a sinking feeling was where Charlie kept the kids he stole before he sold them.

With nothing more to be gained from talking to Mrs. Shelton, they heeded the doctor’s suggestion that they let her get some rest. The cops went off to lean even harder on Charlie, and Hailey and Aaron went to check on LaShonda one last time for the night.

She was alone in her room, no new roommate yet, and Aunt Shirley was gone for the night—and she was awake.

“I have to ask, LaShonda,” Aaron said, as soon as he could break into the two women’s greetings. “Have you remembered anything about the man who took Keenan?”

She rocked her head back and forth on her pillow, then winced at the pain it caused. “No. I knew when he came to the apartment, I’d seen him before, but I can’t remember where.”

“Okay, that’s fine. I’m going to come back tomorrow with a picture for you to—”

“Oh, my God,” LaShonda cried, cutting him off. “Look! It’s you two, on the news!” She pushed a button in her bed frame and turned up the audio on the TV.

Hailey gasped. “It is.”

The 10:00 p.m. newscast was airing a story about Charlie’s arrest. Right there on the screen were pictures of Mrs. Shelton, Aaron and Hailey, followed by a shot of Charlie Howard, with a short rundown of his rap sheet.

“That’s him!” LaShonda shrieked. “He’s the one who took Keenan. Oh, my God! He’s the guy from the self-storage place.”

“Whoa, back up,” Aaron said, his heart going into overdrive. “Where did you say you saw him?”

“The self-storage place. I came out of my unit to get back in the car with Keenan, and he was there. He and Keenan were waving at each other. He was four or five units away.”

“What day was this?” Aaron asked.

“It was the day of the tornado. We drove home from there, and the storm hit about an hour later.”

“That has to be the shed Mrs. Shelton was talking about,” Hailey said to Aaron.

“What are you talking about?” LaShonda demanded. “Do you know where my Keenan is?”

“Not yet,” Aaron told her. “Where’s this self-storage place?”

The minute she told them, they were out the door. Aaron was on the phone to the cops before they even got to the car.

Because it was after hours when Aaron and Hailey pulled up, the gate was locked, and the place was tightly surrounded in eight-foot-tall chain-link fence, which itself was topped with razor wire.

“Sheesh,” Hailey said. “I guess they really don’t want anyone to get inside.”

“No problem.” Aaron drove around the perimeter to the security shack, where he got out of the car to speak with the guard.

Hailey couldn’t hear what they said, though she saw Aaron show what she assumed was his D.A.’s office ID, but the guard soon began checking a list and shaking his head.

She got out and joined them. “What’s wrong?”

“No listing of Charlie or Charles Howard,” Aaron said in disgust. “I knew it was too easy to be true.”

“But why would LaShonda have seen him here if he doesn’t have a unit here?” Hailey asked.

Aaron shook his head. “She wouldn’t. But, hell, the shed doesn’t have to be in his name. In fact, if it was, we would have found it months ago.”

“What if it’s in his aunt’s name?” she asked.

Aaron stared at her for a moment, then grasped her head in his hands and planted a hard kiss on her mouth.

“Shelton,” he told the guard. “Wynona Shelton.”

“Got her,” the guard said.

“Take us there,” Aaron demanded.

The guard let them in and took them on his security-company golf cart to the unit in question.

“This is it,” he told them.

“Okay, open it up,” Aaron said.

“Only the renter of each unit has the key,” The guard said. “They have to provide their own locks.”

Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look at it this way. I’m an officer of the court, and I’m sure I heard a sound from inside this unit. Since the man I have reason to believe frequents this unit happens to be awaiting trial for kidnapping and selling children, I don’t think I want to wait until we can wake up a judge to get a search warrant. I’m sure I hear someone crying inside this unit. This is what we call exigent circumstances.”

Hailey heard the sounds of approaching sirens just as the guard pulled a pair of bolt cutters from beneath his seat.

“Let’s use my master key,” the guard said.

In less than a minute, they were inside the unit and had the light on.

Hailey leaned around the edge of the door to find three sets of terrified young eyes peeking back from behind a row of boxes. “Oh, my God,” she breathed, seeing the three boys cowering in fear.

Aaron stepped inside and spoke quietly. “Hello, boys. You’re safe now. I’m Aaron, and this is Hailey. We’ve come to take you back to your parents.”

One of the boys sniffed. “They don’t want us anymore.”

Aaron squatted down in front of them. “Who told you that?”

“The man.”

“The man who brought you here?”

“We’re not supposed to talk to strangers,” another boy said.

“That’s good advice. But it’s okay if you talk to me, because I work with the police. And you know what? I think I hear them coming now. Why don’t you talk to Hailey while I go meet them?”

While he did that, Hailey stepped inside. There he was. LaShonda’s baby.

“You’re Keenan,” she said softly, hunkering down right in front of him.

His eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

“Because your mother told me.” She decided to prepare the boy for what was coming so he wouldn’t be shocked or scared when he saw his mother. “She would have come for you herself, but the man who brought you here hurt her, and she’s in the hospital. She asked us to find you and bring you to her.”

The four-year-old used his fists to rub his eyes. “You mean she didn’t give me away?”

“Oh, honey, no. Your mama loves you very much and can’t wait to see you again. Will you introduce me to your friends, so we can find their families?”

The next hours were total chaos, with cops and EMTs and reporters overrunning the self-storage grounds.

It was only a few hours until sunrise when Hailey leaned close to LaShonda’s bed and woke her. “Hey, girlfriend, wake up, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

LaShonda groaned. “Your name better be Ed McMahon.”

Hailey chuckled. “Nope. Come on, wake up. This is better than that. We brought you a visitor.”

“Mama?”

“Oh! Keenan? Baby?”

Hailey stepped back out of the way and helped Keenan scoot up onto the bed at his mother’s side.

Hailey knew that eventually LaShonda would have dozens of questions, but for now she needed only to hold her son and reassure herself that he was alive and safe.

She backed out of the room and straight into Aaron’s arms. He pressed himself against her back and held her close while they peered through the open door at the mother-and-son reunion.

After a few minutes, she turned into his arms and pressed her face against the warmth of his neck.

“Are you crying?” he asked.

She sniffed. “Only a little, the good kind of crying.”

“It’s okay to feel good. We did a really good thing tonight.”

She sniffed and smiled. “I know. You were great tonight.”

“So were you.”

“We were a good pair, huh?”

“Are,” he said. “We are a good pair.”

Hailey smiled. “You’ll get no argument from me.”

“I t’ll be a miracle if I can stay awake for the ride home,” Hailey said when they got to his car.

In the end, she didn’t make it. She couldn’t remember when she fell asleep, but when she woke, they were parked in front of her building.

She rolled her head against the headrest until she could look him in the eye. “I want, very much, to be brave and bold and sexy and invite you to come up with me.”

“Why do I hear a but coming next?”

“But I’m about to fall asleep, and you’ll be insulted. Besides, I’m still a little shaky from tonight. The only knives I’m used to seeing are of the dinner, steak and butter varieties. And then finding those kids…”

Aaron reached for her hand and held it. “How about if I hold you until you fall asleep?”

Hailey nearly collapsed, she was so grateful for his offer. “You would do that?”

“In a heartbeat. As long as you won’t get mad if I fall asleep next to you. I’m still a little shaky myself, after walking into that house and seeing you fighting the sleazeball I’ve been after for weeks, blood everywhere. I could have lost you today. I could use a little recovery time myself.”

If she hadn’t have been strapped into her seat, Hailey would have thrown herself into his arms. Getting unstrapped was simple enough. But she saved throwing herself at him for later. Instead, she got slowly out of the car and led him up to her apartment, where she closed the door, sealing them in, shutting the world out.

“I don’t mean to sound trite,” she told him, “but I don’t usually do this sort of thing.”

“You mean sleep with a man?”

It was all she could do to keep from stuttering. “What?”

“That’s all we’re talking about, Hailey. Sleeping. Right?”

She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “Right.” She was more nervous now than when she had stared down the creep with the knife. “Right. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

Aaron felt her slipping away from him. He didn’t want her to slip away. He wanted to hold her, to prove to himself that she was safe and would stay safe at least for tonight.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you into your bed. Or do you want something to eat first? We should have stopped and had an early breakfast on the way.”

“You’re hungry?” she asked, relief in her eyes.

Damn, she really was nervous, if mention of food could make her look as if her execution had been postponed.

“I’ve got frozen pizza,” she offered.

“That sounds better than breakfast.”

While the pizza heated, Hailey took a shower and changed clothes, since her others had been torn and bloody.

They shared their pizza on the sofa, watching television and catching sight of themselves again on the morning news, which this time also reported on the rescue of the three boys. By the end of the sportscast, Hailey was curled up at one end of the couch, sound asleep.

Aaron smiled softly. She had worn herself out. Trying to act nonchalant about his being there had done her in. He should leave, but he couldn’t bring himself to. If she woke up screaming, or even merely scared, he didn’t want her to find herself alone.

He knew she would argue with him, but he felt responsible for her nearly getting killed yesterday. He and the police and the bail bondsman and the court should have had Charlie Howard behind bars. If they had, Mrs. Shelton would be home and uninjured. And those three boys would never have gone missing.

He couldn’t leave her alone now with her fear.

Gently, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to bed. She never woke when he took off her shoes. He left the rest of her clothes on, as well as her bedside lamp.

She looked so damn sweet. The scrapes and bruises she’d suffered earlier made her look vulnerable, but he knew she wasn’t. She’d dealt with lightning, ghosts and LaShonda in her head. But not until she’d had to literally fight for her life against an armed man had she shown any fear, and even then, only after the fact.

No, he couldn’t leave her. Instead, he slid onto the bed, curled up at her back and wrapped his arms around her.

 

It was a small, quiet snore that woke Hailey. The way her love life had been going lately, the only sound in her bedroom should have been the alarm clock. Yet she didn’t even have time to stiffen before she recognized the heat that snuggled against her back.

The snore was Aaron’s.

She smiled. He’d promised to stay until she fell asleep. Apparently he’d been as tired as she had and had fallen asleep as he’d suggested he might.

“You’re smiling.”

“You fell asleep,” she said, twisting around until she faced him.

“I did not.”

“You snored.”

He traced his thumb up and down her arm. “I did not.”

“How would you know?” she protested, laughing, shivering from his touch. “You were asleep.”

“I see your point.”

She followed his suggestive gaze to find her nipples hard and pointing. Heat stung her cheeks. The sweater she’d put on after her shower was thin, and even with her bra covering her beneath it, there was still no mistaking her protruding nipple.

“What are you thinking of?” he asked.

“Lightning.”

Her voice was soft and breathy. Aaron was drawn to her the way he had never been drawn to a woman before. He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers.

“Now,” he said, dragging his mouth to a sweet, sweet spot beneath her ear, “is the time for you to tell me to leave.”

She arched her neck to give him better access. “Why?”

“Because I’m not going to be able to stop on my own.”

She swallowed. “Why would you want to stop?”

Aaron pulled his head away until he could see her eyes. “We’re not talking about sleeping this time. We’re talking about sex. About making love.”

“Oh, I hope so.” She slid her arms around his chest and took his mouth with hers. She didn’t know where such forwardness came from, she was only grateful she’d found it. She wanted him. She poured herself into the kiss.

A moment later they backed away from each other long enough for her clothes and his to fall away and land on the floor as if by magic. Then they were together again, bare torso to bare torso, breaths comingling, hearts pounding.

For a woman who prided herself on her independence, Hailey gave herself fast to his heat and his strength. After donning a condom from his wallet, he settled himself between her thighs, and she instinctively knew he would give her pleasure the way no other man before him had. He tested and found her ready, then began to enter her.

“Oh, yes,” she breathed.

Aaron couldn’t speak. She was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. He might never get enough of her. Then he was there, fully seated. Easing in, then out, back, then forth. Slowly, then slower. Then slow was not enough to feed the hunger inside him. Fire stoked where their bodies were joined and every place she touched him with her soft, delicate hands.

She was with him. He could feel her quivering beneath his weight. Then suddenly she threw her head back and arched her back. A tiny, heart-wrenching scream escaped her throat.

Someone might have said he growled. He couldn’t remember one way or the other. All he remembered was flying off the edge of the earth with Hailey in his arms.

He felt as if they’d both been struck by lightning.

 

Hailey didn’t know how long it took her to regain her breath, but when she realized she was finally breathing normally, she felt…reborn. Each breath she took tasted sweeter than any before, regardless of Aaron’s weight, which, since he was lying completely atop her, should have been crushing her but instead made her feel safe and cared for. And aroused. Again.

If she felt what she thought she felt against her leg, she wasn’t the only one who was already aroused again. She smiled.

Aaron pushed himself up on his forearms. “You look pretty pleased with yourself.”

“I’m pretty pleased with you, me and the whole wide world right now.”

He nudged his nose against hers and trailed his lips across her cheeks. “Sounds like a sentiment I can endorse.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” She reached over and pulled open the drawer of her nightstand. She pulled out a box of condoms and placed it next to the lamp.

 

The next hours proved to be unlike any Hailey could have imagined. They made love in the bed twice, and then in the shower. They might have gone another round, but then they realized that would mean another shower, which would mean showering together. Since he had to go to the office, they were going to have to stop making love.

“For now,” they both agreed.

“Remind me when I go see Mrs. Shelton again to thank her. If it wasn’t for her I might never have seen this, um, side of you.”

“Oh, yes, you would have.” He sidled up to her until his towel pressed against hers. He slipped his arms around her and pulled her to his damp chest. “I like to think that we would have found each other one way or another, you and I.”

“I’m glad you feel that way.” She flattened her hand against his chest. “I need to be completely honest with you before anything between us goes any further.”

“This sounds serious.” Aaron pressed a fingertip to the pulse at the base of her throat. “Your heart’s pounding.”

She nodded. “I guess it is, but…what I’m going to say doesn’t have to be a big deal unless you want it to be. I’m just telling you so you’ll know before we spend any more time together. Sometime between your grandmother’s pork chops and the snore that woke me up a little while ago, I managed to go and fall in love with you.”

“Oh, yeah?” He draped his arms over her shoulders.

“I don’t expect you to say anything about it,” she said. “I just wanted you to know, that’s all.”

“You lay yourself open like that and don’t expect me to say anything? What if I want to say something?”

She shook her head. “We barely know each other. It’s too soon. I’m out of my mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“So you’re taking it back?”

“Are you trying to make me crazy?” she asked. “No, I’m not taking back anything.”

“So you still love me?”

“Of course I do.”

“So it’s not too soon for you to love me, but it is too soon for me to return the feeling?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Good.” He leaned down and kissed her, softly at first, then deeper. “Because I do.” He kissed her again. “Return the feeling.”

He pressed his lips gently to hers again. “I love you, too. How could I not?”