“He scratched my cheek—practically gouged it,” Brent said.
“It’s not that bad. Come on—I’ll get the first-aid kit.”
“I might get rabies,” Brent said.
“Birds don’t get rabies,” Rocky assured him. He was speaking to Brent, but he was staring at Devin.
His expression was filled with words he didn’t speak.
What the hell were you doing out here? Are you mad?
“Let’s go in,” she repeated.
They walked back to the house. Rocky was on the alert, aware of everything—the perfect agent, Devin thought. He told them to wait at the door while he checked the house, but Devin could see Auntie Mina there and knew she would have told them about any intruder.
But Rocky went through the motions, anyway, because Brent would have been suspicious if he didn’t. Devin set Poe back on his perch and ran to the kitchen for the first-aid kit, then dabbed antiseptic on Brent’s scratches.
He grumbled through the whole procedure that the bird was a devil and should be put down.
“Stop being such a baby. Your scratches aren’t even that bad,” she said.
“It’s going to be a long time before I come see you again,” Brent said.
Devin saw Auntie Mina by the mantel and could tell she was amused by Brent’s carrying on.
Devin glared at the ghost. It’s not that funny!
Aunt Mina’s smiled faded, and she nodded in acknowledgment that the situation was genuinely serious.
After going through the entire house, Rocky joined them in the parlor where Devin was just finishing up.
“He could have put my eye out,” Brent said.
“But he didn’t,” Devin pointed out.
Rocky was silent; Devin was certain he was waiting for Brent to leave before exploding and telling her that she had taken a stupid and dangerous chance.
“Good as new,” she told Brent, stepping back. His scratches hadn’t even bled.
Not much, at least, she thought, wincing inwardly.
“Where’s the map?” she asked Brent.
He picked up the cardboard tube and produced a rolled-up map. “Obviously, this isn’t original, but there’s been an upswing of interest in Perley’s theories. Larson Jones, who owns the shop next to me, ordered a bunch of these, so I ran over to get you one, and then I drove out here so your bird could attack me.” He glared at her reproachfully.
It was going to be a long time before Brent forgave her—and Poe.
“That’s so thoughtful of you. I wish you had called, though. I’m truly sorry about Poe, Brent,” she said.
He grunted.
“What do I owe you?” she asked him.
He waved a hand in the air. “Nothing. You took over on the tour for me. But next time you’re looking for something, you can come in and get it.”
“And here I was thinking of having a lovely Halloween party,” she murmured.
He smiled. “By Halloween I’ll be all right. And I’ll get Beth or someone to stand in front of me and shield me from the monster.”
“Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea?” she asked.
“No, I’m heading home. Going to gargle salt water and try to get my voice back before my tour tonight.”
“Well, thank you again.”
Brent nodded and headed for the door.
Devin followed him, feeling Rocky right behind her. He made her uneasy. She felt his heat, breathed his scent. She was almost painfully aware of him as...
The opposite sex.
She closed the door and returned to the parlor, steeling herself for the anger she knew was coming.
But he didn’t yell. She realized that he was breathing deeply. Finally he looked at her and simply asked, “Why?”
“Because I saw her.”
He took that in, staring at her. At last he spoke. “The woman Mina saw at the window—the night you found our Jane Doe?”
“Yes. I saw her. You said that she was trying to talk to me, so I ran out after her.”
Then he asked her, “Do you have any self-control at all? You couldn’t stop yourself?”
“Hey!” she snapped.
But he had a point. She knew how stupidly she had acted.
Which, of course, was emphasized by the way he stood quietly.
Mina was still by the mantel, standing there quietly.
Rocky spun on her suddenly.
“And you just let her go?” he asked Mina.
“I couldn’t stop her,” Mina said. Now, of course, she was staring at Devin, too.
“She might have listened to you,” Rocky said. “She obviously has no idea just what danger is out there.”
“Hey! She’s standing right here. And yes, I made a tremendous mistake, but you will recall that you were the one to tell me that she might be the key,” Devin said.
“I never told you to run out into the woods after her!” he said. “And come on—you know it.”
“I can’t stay locked up forever,” Devin said.
He shook his head. “It won’t be forever.”
“It’s been thirteen years since the murder of Melissa Wilson,” Devin said.
She wished she could take it back. She knew that fact had been like a thorn in his side—something that had haunted him terribly throughout the years.