Tommy Nightmare(27)

That didn’t sound possible to Heather. It sounded supernatural. And she did not believe in the supernatural.

She found signs of a struggle in Ashleigh’s room. The window over the bed was smashed out, the curtains puffing in the breeze. Heather leaned out and looked down at the paved white walkway that curved from the Goodlings’ driveway to their front door.

If there had been any wreckage below, shattered glass or broken window frame, someone had cleaned it up. The only thing on the walkway beneath her was a bouquet of assorted flowers. They looked fresh and bright from here, as if someone had just set them out last night.

Heather would have to jot her observations on her small personal notepad, as soon as she was out of this bulky suit.

She returned downstairs and walked back outside.

The back slope of the Goodlings’ lawn was flooded. Much of the water had collected in a deep puddle between the roots of a large magnolia tree.

Heather tromped toward the pond.

It was mostly empty. The hoses sucked mud at the bottom.

She didn’t see a body down there, infected or otherwise.

Schwartzman would probably grouse about the money, but Heather knew emergency funds were coming from Homeland Security. Besides, if there had been another case, it would have been important to get the body quarantined.

Or maybe not. Nothing contagious had been found. There was no disease, only symptoms. Heather couldn’t imagine what that might mean.

And Heather had checked off two items on her list, visit the Goodling home and drain the pond. She’d discovered nothing conclusive. She didn’t hold out much hope for her next stop, either, but sometimes epidemiology required the baleen whale approach—suck in all the information you could get, and hope you picked up something you needed.

Heather left the drainage crew to take their equipment apart and go home. She tossed her hazmat suit into the trunk of the federal police car driven by Officer Boele, her assigned security detail. Though Heather had a rental car at the hotel, Schwartzman ordered her to ride everywhere with Boele, a taciturn young man in a blue uniform.

“We’re going to Jenny Morton’s house,” she said. She gave him the address, and he plugged it into his dashboard computer.





Jenny and Seth found their panic subsiding as the sun rose. They took turns peeking out the window to see if the frightening young man had returned.

“This is crazy,” Jenny finally said. “We’re acting like kids who saw our first scary movie.”

Seth nodded. “Why are we so afraid of him, anyway? You hit him pretty hard with Jenny pox. Why would he come back knowing you could kill him?”

“Yeah.” Jenny looked down at her hand and wiggled her fingers. Her lethal touch. It had almost made her life not worth living, until she met Seth.

Jenny went to him and slid her arms around his waist. She laid her head against his chest and listened to his heart.

“He looked like her, didn’t he?” Seth asked after a minute.

“The eyes,” Jenny said. “He had her eyes.”

“You think he’s a relative or something?” Seth asked. “He seemed pretty hell-bent on revenge.”

“No,” Jenny said. “That’s not what I think.”

“You have some ideas, feel free to share.”

“Look at my eyes, Seth.”

Seth pulled back from her so he could look down into her face. He smiled and cupped the back of her head, and his touch sent warm ripples through her, chasing away the black cobwebs of fear. “Beautiful,” he said.

“No, I’m not,” Jenny said. “And I wasn’t fishing for compliments, either. Come here.”

Jenny took his hand and led him to the bathroom. They stood next to each other, surrounded by fading floral wallpaper.

“What am I looking for?” he asked.

Jenny stood on her tiptoes and laid her cheek against his. Two pairs of deep blue eyes stared back at them.

“They’re the same color, aren’t they?” Seth said.

“Because we’re a pair,” Jenny said. “Opposites. That’s what keeps drawing us together, through all these lifetimes.”

“We’ve been enemies, too,” Seth said, and she gave him a puzzled look. “I’m just saying. I saw that in my memories. We killed each other, a bunch of times.”

“Long ago,” Jenny said. “The last few times, we’ve really worked on becoming human. Learning to love.” She looked at him.

“Becoming human.” Seth shook his head. “That’s a weird way to put it.”

“It’s true.”

Seth turned away and left the bathroom, as if he didn’t want to look at himself anymore. She followed him into the kitchen, where he was pouring a Dr. Pepper. “Your dad have anything stronger I can put in this?” he asked. “Whiskey?”