Page 16

“Morning.”

Dana jumped at the sound of Claire’s voice, nearly dropping the tub of cream cheese she was holding. “Claire! You’re awake!” Dana shut the fridge and rushed over to Claire. She was about to throw her arms around the girl but stopped herself. Claire had strict boundaries when it came to personal space and Dana didn’t want to overwhelm her. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Hungry. Got anything besides bagels?” Claire asked, stepping around Dana to pour herself a cup of coffee. She added creamer with a heavy hand then plopped down in one of the squeaky swiveling barstools at the kitchen island.

Dana blinked, taken aback by Claire’s nonchalance. She took a tentative step closer. “What do you remember about last night?”

Claire took a sip of coffee, put it down on the counter and stared into it, perplexity filling her delicate features. She pushed her glasses back up her nose. “The last thing I remember is being in bed at the clinic.” She looked at Dana. “Wait! How did I get here?”

Immediately, Dana regretted questioning Claire. She should’ve waited for Dr. Dvita. Dana was weighing how much to tell Claire about the events of last night when a loud clatter made both women jump.

“Is someone here?” Claire asked, her eyes filling with fear.

A string of profanity drifted toward the kitchen from down the hall, followed by heavy footsteps. Dana hurried to reassure Claire. “It’s just Jake.”

“What’s Jake doing here?”

As if conjured from her dreams, he appeared in Dana’s kitchen, shirtless and clutching two halves of what had once been a singular mask. “Please tell me this is a replica,” Jake begged.

“It’s not,” Dana answered, rushing to retrieve the priceless Luba mask.

“Shit! I knocked it over when I was getting dressed.”

Claire stood, the barstool screeching in protest at the sudden movement. “Oh my God! You and Sergeant McSexy? What the hell did I miss?”

Jake seemed to notice Claire for the first time. “Elvira! You’re awake.”

“And you’re half naked,” she shot back.

Jake had started toward Claire, but paused, realizing she was right. He tightened the towel around his waist, his skin still glistening from his shower.

“What’s going on?” Claire asked, looking from Jake to Dana. “Are you guys … together?”

Dana froze—a deer caught in high-beams. “No … we’re … he …” She stammered until Jake interrupted.

“I came over last night after Dana told me what happened at the clinic. We just wanted to make sure you’re okay, Claire.”

“I’m fine, but why does everyone keep harping on last night?”

Jake’s brow furrowed. “Do you not remember what happened?”

Dana finally found her voice and jumped in. “We were just discussing that, Jake. Why don’t you get dressed? Dr. Dvita will be here any minute.”

“What?” Claire looked like a cornered animal. “Dr. Dvita’s coming here? Why?”

The doorbell chimed and Claire backed away instinctively. “I don’t want to see him,” she whispered.

If Jake had been wearing clothes, Dana was convinced they would’ve been incinerated from the rage radiating off him. “Claire, did he do something to you?”

“Jake!” Dana hissed. “Get dressed and let me handle this.”

“Not a chance in hell.” He faced Claire. “Tell me right now, Claire. If that scumbag laid a hand on you, I need to know.”

She was visibly trembling, but she shook her head. “No, it’s not like that. I just ... I don’t want to face the things he makes me face. Not in front of you and Dana.”

“Jake.” Dana spoke gently, placing a hand on his arm. “Take a breath, get dressed and trust me to handle this.”

He locked eyes with her for a moment. Sensing her sincerity, he nodded and strode down the hall to her bedroom. The doorbell chimed again, and Dana reached for Claire’s hand. “Do you trust me?”

The girl nodded.

“Then follow my lead.”

Dana answeredthe door without removing the chain. Through the slivered opening she viewed the frail figure darkening her door. A short man with thinning gray hair and dark eyes peered back at her from behind wire-framed glasses. He blinked rapidly, like his eyes weren’t used to daylight. A stiff breeze picked up, and the man sunk into the raised collar of his thick navy blue peacoat.

Dana pushed his vampiric likeness from her mind. “Can I help you?”

“Hello, Dr. Gray? I’m Dr. Dvita. We spoke on the phone.”

“Can you show me some identification, please?”

The man blinked again, but then started unbuttoning his coat. He pulled out his wallet, passing the whole thing through the opening in Dana’s front door. The wallet looked as old as the man himself. Dana gently handled the leather, searching the folds until she was satisfied it was none other than Dr. Roman Dvita standing on her front porch.

Taking a deep breath, Dana had one more thing to ask. “I was given a photograph from you last night. Who’s in it?”

“Three of my patients. Two of whom you’re acquainted with. Nancy and Laura. Err.. sorry, we use the names of Presidents and First Ladies at Passages to protect identities, but you know them as Claire Townsend and Meredith Kincaid.”

“And who’s the third person?”

“Another patient of mine.”

“Who took the photo and why send it to me?”

“I took the photo. And I sent it to you because I believe these women are in danger.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because the man in that photo is dead, and I’m worried the others will be targeted next.”

Dana stifled her shock, then passed the wallet back through the door and looked to Claire for permission to let Dr. Dvita in. The girl nodded from her spot near the dining room window where she’d been watching the exchange.

Dana let her hand brush over the cold steel of the weapon tucked in the back waistband of her jeans one more time before she unhooked the chain and invited the cold stranger inside.