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Although, the word house didn’t really fit the bill.

It was more like a mansion. The building had a coastal feel to it, like many of the structures Zeke had seen in his travels in New England, but on a much grander scale than the simple Cape Cod style houses that populated so many neighborhoods up and down the coast. White clapboard siding and lots of property with trees all around meant privacy. And, likely, a very high price tag.

The nearest neighbors weren’t actually that close, affording their group a great deal of privacy as they went about their business.

As a result, everybody was wearing their uniforms and carrying their gear openly.

They were on private property, with the property owner’s permission, and her presence.

Because it was Celine who owned this house now that her parents were gone.

If she wanted to allow military men to run around on her land, she had every right to do so.

And considering how isolated the place was, nobody would be the wiser as long as they kept things quiet. The neighbors couldn’t see a thing.

Zeke knew they had chosen this location because of their dual nature.

It would be easy enough for a water shifter to take to the ocean from here without being seen.

The isolation had also probably helped the murderer get away with doing her evil.

Nobody had heard or seen anything, which was why the trail had grown so cold. And why Zeke was here.

Right. Time to get to work.

Rick and Zeke followed Santini’s path up onto the huge deck. Zeke saw the open sliding glass doors that took up a large swath of the back of the house. It was more like a glass wall with panels that slid to allow people in and out of the back of the house. Swanky.

One of the huge panels was already open, and Zeke saw Celine standing in the opening with her grandfather’s arm around her shoulders.

Zeke wanted to go to her but knew he couldn’t.

The master chief would console her. Zeke had to get his mind off her and onto his work.

He might not be good enough for her, but he would do all in his power to help her get justice for her parents.

Rick held Zeke back before they got to the door.

Zeke was wearing gloves and was armed, like the rest of the team, but only in case of surprises.

He was here to do his psychometric thing, and that was all.

If he had to pull his weapon, they were all in serious shit.

Still, he’d been a soldier long enough that he felt naked without a weapon and rarely went anywhere unarmed.

Zeke took off the black glove from his left hand.

He was wearing tactical gloves today that went with his black tactical vest and black cargo pants.

Every pocket contained something useful that he carried out of long-standing habit from years of field work.

Today, he’d flex that new gift of his and see if he could find clues.

It was a little bit like archaeology. Sort of.

He was still looking for clues in the past, only his toolbox was somewhat… expanded.

Zeke almost snorted at his own thoughts.

Stowing his glove on his belt, he knelt to touch his hand to the wood of the deck and shut his eyes to sort out the images.

He spoke quietly to Rick as he established a baseline for this new place and got a feel for it.

They’d agreed this was probably the best way to proceed, given that they didn’t know too much yet about how his gift worked.

Rick had suggested he ease his way into things, and this was as good a place to start as any.

“Bare feet. Splinters. Laughter. Summer barbecues and the occasional gathering,” Zeke said, moving his hand around the wooden deck and sorting through the echoes of past events it contained.

He didn’t share the images of a much younger Celine giggling as she ran across the deck heading for the back lawn.

She had grown up in this giant house, and it had been a loving home for many years based on what he could see.

It looked like an almost idyllic childhood, which was a far cry from his own experience as a kid.

He was happy for her. Glad that she’d had a joyful youth, especially considering what she’d been through in more recent years.

He stood and walked closer to the glass door.

Rick was following close behind. Celine and her grandfather met him near the doorway.

Zeke could see with one glance that this big living room was the scene of the crime he had witnessed from touching that stone yesterday.

The place was still in disarray, though the blood had been cleaned up.

Sort of. The upholstery and carpeting were discolored where the bloodstains had been removed with bleach.

It would all have to be replaced if anybody wanted to live here again.

Though it was a lovely house, Zeke doubted that Celine would ever want to live here again.

There was no way thoughts of her parents, the way she had last seen them, wouldn’t intrude on her peace.

Santini still had his arm around Celine’s shoulders, and Zeke had to look away from the expression on her face.

If he didn’t, he might do something rash and go over to her and pulled her into his arms. He couldn’t do that.

He didn’t have the right. Not yet. Probably not ever, despite how thoughts of her invaded his mind at all times these days.

“Is this where it happened?” Rick asked gently.

Master Chief Santini nodded, as did Zeke.

“I’ve seen this room before,” Zeke clarified, knowing his tone was a bit grim.

“Take it slow. Like we discussed,” Rick advised.

“Yes, sir,” Zeke replied, already looking at the objects he would target in his psychometric work.

He’d start with the general room and then zero in on the places where the violence had been at its worst. Something near the couch was calling him, and he gazed quickly around.

There was something odd about one of the lamps on an end table, but he had to be methodical about this and stick to the plan they’d made before ever setting foot on the boat.

He and Rick had agreed on a course of action so that if he got in too deep, his friend would be ready to pull him out.

But Zeke wouldn’t let that happen. There was no such thing as too deep when it came to helping Celine find the answers she needed.

He’d do what he had to do and grit his teeth to stay conscious.

Rick would understand, and they’d carry Zeke out on a stretcher if they had to, but either way, Celine would have some answers.

With grim determination, Zeke held his hand out and touched the wall.

Echoes of the past came to him almost immediately.

“Emptiness. A caretaker coming to check on things every once in a while. The cleaning crew. Bleach.”

Zeke actually smelled the chemicals the cleaners had used as he went back in time.

The images were gentle for now. Seen from afar.

From the wall’s point of view, as it were.

He braced himself as time kept turning back in his mind.

He saw the confrontation from across the room.

It had happened closer to the front of the house, and the combatants hadn’t strayed this far back, so the echoes weren’t as strong.

It was actually like watching a movie play out on a faraway screen.

He’d have to remember to tell Rick that this plan they’d formulated about starting from the wall and moving inward was definitely a good way to ease him into the deeper work that would come later.

“I see the mage. Her skin is very dark. She’s kind of short—maybe five foot two or so—with wild, curly black hair.

She’s wearing a loud yellow blouse and turquoise blue pants under a deep red cloak.

The cloak has runes on the edges, and somehow…

Her face is blurred. That feels like magic, though I’m no expert,” Zeke mused.

“It could very well be,” Santini put in quietly as Rick took notes.

Zeke watched the events unfold in his mind’s eye.

He’d seen it before, when he touched the stone.

Only this time, he had a much wider viewpoint.

That was good for the overall action. He could clearly see the sequence of events.

But it didn’t give him the finer details that might lead to better clues for the investigation.

He’d have to work his way up to that, but this was a good start.

Zeke lowered his hand to his side, disengaging from the wall, and eyed his next target.

The mage. That’s who they needed to know about.

He had to go where she’d been and see if he could glean anything from the things she’d touched.

It was a roundabout way to search, but he didn’t have any other ideas at the moment.

He’d start with retracing the mage’s steps.

He hadn’t quite figured out yet how she had gotten into the house.

Maybe that would tell them something, if he could puzzle it out.

Treading carefully, he stepped where she had stepped, crouching down to touch each ghostly footprint only he could see in his mind, as he followed her progress backwards from the confrontation to where she’d been lying in wait.

Yes . She’d been waiting for them to come home.

Cursing under his breath, he turned to Rick.

“She was here, waiting for them, when they arrived home,” he reported, moving to the coat closet and opening the door with his gloved right hand.