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K ate walked into her office and sat down on her chair with a hard thump . As soon as she tossed down her phone, it rang. She glared at it, and Rodney smirked beside her.

“Let me know if that works for you.”

“What?” she asked, as she snatched it up.

“If you glare at your cell, does it stop ringing?”

“Not likely,” she muttered, “at least not in our world right now.”

“Never in our world,” he pointed out.

She nodded. “Isn’t that the truth?” Since it was Simon, she answered it, not even attempting to hold back the weariness in her tone.

“Hey,” he began, “are you alone?”

“No,” she murmured, “I’m at the office. Why?” When he hesitated, she urged him, “What’s up?”

“Maybe I’ll just tell you when you get home.”

“How about you just tell me now?” she declared, too tired to even beat around the bush. “If it’s something helpful, I’m more than happy to hear it. If it’s not helpful, well, you know I’ll tell you.” He laughed, and she had to smile. “Sorry, as you can tell, it’s been that kind of a day.”

“Yeah, it’s been that kinda day here too,” he admitted. “So,… I spent a bit of time at my rehabs, decided to work in the office trailer on one of those jobs, and just when I was getting up to leave…”

“Come on, out with it,” she snapped.

He took a deep breath and continued. “I got a hard smack to the stomach, like before, but I sat back down again and basically told off whoever it was. Then I heard a small child crying,” he added.

“Did he say anything?”

“Yeah, help me . When I realized it was a child, I asked him where he was, what he was doing, and how I can help, and he started crying again,” Simon shared, his voice thickening. “I could get no more out of him, but he eventually repeated Help me and then I think he added, Think . And he disappeared.”

She swore.

Lilliana, who’d been walking past her, stopped and turned her way. Rodney, who’d been sitting at his desk position ahead of Kate’s, turned and stared at her too.

“Nothing else though?” Kate asked Simon.

“No, nothing else, which is why I always hate to tell you.”

“I know,” she murmured. “Yet, in this instance—”

“I know. I get it. That’s also why I’m telling you. And now that I have”—his tone turned cheerful—“I’ll get back to my work.”

“ Great ,” she muttered, as she ended the call.

“Who was that?” Rodney asked.

“Simon,” she snapped, glaring down at her phone.

“Trouble in lovers lane?” Lilliana asked, with a smile.

“Trouble of one kind, but I don’t know what the trouble is yet.”

“Meaning?”

“He’s had a couple of”—she frowned, trying to figure out what to say—“I don’t want to call them attacks, yet kind of, on a psychic level. And, yes, I know how that sounds.” She glared at them.

Nobody spoke, just continued to study her, waiting.

Kate frowned. “I think Simon would call it some sort of, I don’t know, spirit , I guess. Anyway, whatever it is, it reached out to him.”

“Okay,” Lilliana noted, “and what did this spirit say?”

“Well, it knocked Simon in the stomach again. So Simon told them to knock it off or to just tell him whatever he needed to know. Then he heard the voice of a child,” she shared. “The child kept saying he needed help. Simon kept trying to get something out of him and did finally, before the connection dropped away.” She froze at that point, not wanting to say it.

“What was it?” Lilliana asked, echoed by Colby, who’d walked into the bullpen a moment earlier.

“What did the child say?” Colby asked.

She looked at them both, then over to Rodney. “ Think .” Silence descended on the office.

“Good God, Simon really knows how to drop those bombs, doesn’t he?” Lilliana replied.

“Way too much,” Kate muttered, staring at them. “So, this kid could be dead or alive. Do we have something? Maybe . Do we know what that something is? Hell no . And can I do anything with the information? Absolutely not .”

“And that’s what always bothers you about what he says, isn’t it?” Colby asked.

Kate shook her head. “Jesus, look at what Simon gave us. He’s in contact with a child, who’s asking for help. What am I supposed to do with that? We would all be more than willing to help if we could,” she noted. “But how are we supposed to render any kind of aid when we don’t know anything more than that?”

“He couldn’t give a location, an age, anything?” Lilliana asked.

“No, at least not yet.”

“Not yet,” she repeated.

Kate let out a deep breath. “Sometimes, and I’m saying sometimes , when he can contact an entity or comes back in contact with the entity, he gets a bit more information. Other times there is no follow-up at all. That’s just what it is. Take it or leave it, as far as information sharing goes.”

She glared down at her phone and then groaned. “Which is also why he doesn’t really like to contact me when he gets those messages because the last thing he wants is for us to think its connected to our current cases—although he had been trying to reach Timmy…”

“And yet, given that single word, how can we not connect this little boy to Timmy?” Rodney immediately asked. “Wow,” he muttered.

Colby looked over at her and nodded. “You need to consider it too.”

“No, I don’t need to consider anything,” she argued, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You need to consider,” Colby repeated, “as to whether—”

“I know,” she interrupted, a hard note in her tone, “whether that could have been my brother. I get that.”

He nodded. “I see you already have considered it.”

“What am I supposed to do though? You know how hard it will be to sleep right now if I allow myself to even consider that could be my brother reaching out, crying out for help?”

“Does Simon know if—” Then Rodney stopped.

She looked over at him, guessing what he would say, then replied, “No, he doesn’t know. As we’ve seen in the past, this person could be alive or dead. Both options are on the table for now.”

“Good God,” Lilliana murmured. “That really is a twister, isn’t it?”

“It’s a constant pain in my ass,” Kate shared, staring over at her. “We want answers. We need answers. Yet this is what we get.”

“We also need to know what else Simon comes up with,” Colby added, “whether we confirm the source of the information or not. Maybe I should rephrase that. When we get something from Simon that’s concrete and usable, it is just that, usable .”

“Sure, but I can’t use what he just gave us because I have no way to act on it.”

“Of course not, but you can file it away,” Colby suggested, “and you can keep your mind open. With any luck Simon will get more information with another connection.”

“Maybe, but those connections also drain him, and, in some instances, strong physical attacks come with them too,” she explained. “That’s something else I must keep in mind. The first time he connected with this entity…”

“The first time? He’s connected… already ?” Colby asked.

“I’m assuming it’s the same one who has been slugging Simon in the gut, but I don’t know that,” she clarified, holding up her hand. “Simon was basically knocked flat on his ass, not something he needs to happen while he’s out walking around, in public, or God forbid, on a dangerous jobsite.”

“Good God,” Colby muttered. “No warning?”

“No warning, just a gut punch, out of nowhere. It completely blindsides him, dropping him to the ground, gasping for air because he’d just been slugged so hard. Plus, he’s been gut-punched about four times now—that I know of.”

“That doesn’t sound like fun,” Colby murmured.

“No, and, for him, who has no answers, it just makes it harder because he wants answers, and yet to get them is damn-near impossible sometimes.”

They all considered that.

“And this time?” Rodney asked.

“This time Simon told me that something about it felt as if maybe he would get hit and did. Then he snapped back at the… spirit,” she added, with a wave of her hand.

“Could a child knock him around like that?”

“I don’t know if, one, it is a child,” Kate replied, “or, two, if somebody is with the child, or if this is potentially something completely different. I do know that their strength is not always proportionate to the age of the spirit. So, if this child was desperate, scared, and really looking for help, thought Simon could be that answer, then he could sock him pretty hard.”

“Good Christ,” Colby said, staring at her.

“Yes, I know.” She nodded, giving him a look. “That’s a hell of a way to go through life for Simon, ready to be beaten up by spirits without any warning.”

“And he’s a big guy,” Rodney noted.

“A big guy, a private guy, and one in business, so random blows to the gut out of nowhere really don’t go down well. Like, what if he’s in a meeting on a jobsite or at a bank or something?”

Rodney winced. “Hopefully that would be seen as an attack of what?… Gas or something?” he asked, with a frown.

“Yeah, that’s not much better,” she quipped, rolling her eyes.

“Right,” Rodney muttered. “What an interesting life he leads.”

“I think he would be more than happy to leave this part of it alone,” she noted, staring Colby down.

“Okay then, so a child needs help,” Colby repeated, returning them to that topic.

“Yes,” Kate confirmed, with a nod. “Yet I don’t know which child. I don’t know the pertinent time frame, whether a child of past years or a child of right now,” she pointed out. “That is why we don’t really have anything to work with. Nobody wants to think of a child who needs us,” she noted, “and we want to help, but we can’t identify anything about the child…”

Just then Simon called back. “Simon,” she answered, while everybody else gathered around, and Kate put her cell on Speaker. “Did you forget something?”

“Yes,… no,” he began. “I just got through to the little boy again.”

“Interesting. Normally you can’t do that.”

“No, normally I can’t, but nothing is normal about this.”

“Okay,” she replied cautiously, “and what did you get?”

“He says he’s been kidnapped.”

She winced. “Do you have a name? Do you have anything to help us identify him?”

“I asked him, and he couldn’t remember.”

“Ah, hell.”

Colby looked at her. “And what does that mean?”

“In Simon’s world, that generally means the boy has been dead a while,” she replied dispassionately. “So, he could have been kidnapped, and his body,” she winced and added, “most likely his body has been dumped.”

Lilliana grimaced. “Not as if we haven’t seen our share of those.”

“Still, we can pull files,” Rodney suggested.

“Of how many kids?” she asked, turning to him. “Absolutely I would be all over this if I had any idea of a name or even a time frame.” She spoke to Simon now, asking, “And why the hell did he say, Think ?”

“I don’t know,” Simon murmured. “He didn’t mention that this time, but he did say something about I’m supposed to help.”

“You’re supposed to help,” she repeated. “Hang on a minute, is he being coached?”

“Yeah,” Simon said. “I was kind of hoping you would ask that question. Still, I don’t have an answer, but that’s what came to my mind too.”

“What do you mean, coached ?” Colby stepped forward. “Hey, Simon. Colby here.”

“Yeah, hi, Colby,” Simon replied. “Sorry I can’t be more help.”

“This is pretty damn interesting, whatever it is,” Colby stated, “and I get it. We all want answers as to where we can find this child. I don’t quite understand what you mean by coached .”

“I think somebody told this spirit, this entity,… that I could help him,” Simon replied cautiously, “and before you ask, I don’t know who that would be or why.”

Rodney brought up another question. “Is there any chance there’s a…” He shook his head, “Do you have a 1-800 number to dial for help on the other side?”

Simon snorted. “If there is one, I hope to God they never get my number.”

“Your grandmother used to do this, right?” Rodney asked.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “and she would say that, once you start working in this field, they can come to you as soon as they recognize the work you’re doing. But that means they have…” And he stopped.

“You mean. thoughts, feelings, the ability to understand?” Colby asked.

“Yes, some of them are still quite cognizant, and some of them are less so.”

“Holy crap,” Rodney muttered, sitting down. “Could somebody you helped before then tell another person—spirit, whatever—who needs help that you’re there?”

Silence filled the room at that question. Kate looked over at Rodney in surprise.

He shrugged. “I’m just trying to figure out if there’s a system.”

“I don’t know,” Simon said. “It’s quite the thing to consider though, isn’t it? I’ve got to go.” And, with that, he disconnected.

She turned to Colby. “See? That’s the problem. We end up with bits and pieces of information but nothing solid.”

“It’s solid enough,” Colby noted, “for Simon at least. However, it’s not solid in terms of our still being unable to move forward with it.”

“We don’t even have a specific year to go on,” Kate complained.

“Ask him,” Lilliana suggested. “Ask him if he can somehow get you something to go on. You know how sometimes you send him text messages, and sometimes he has answers right away.”

She groaned, picked up her phone, and sent a text. Time frame for this little boy? Anything to narrow it down. Ten years, twenty years, this year?

The response came back immediately. Two years ago.

She swore. “Now that’s a little more tangible.”

“What?” Colby asked.

She held up her phone. “According to Simon, this kid went missing two years ago.”

“Good Christ.”

They all raced to their computers to find anything on a little boy who might have gone missing two years ago, while she opted to turn her attention to something a little more tangible. And that was whatever was bothering her about that teenage boy from today. The officers at the scene had taken statements from several of the people standing around, and she’d picked up those and sat here with a cup of coffee and read through them.

According to the neighbors, they’d heard the mother screaming, had stepped outside, and she was opening the door and dragging her son into the fresh air. Several people raced over to help, only to realize that it was already too late. No comment was made about the body being moved. But just something about it bothered Kate because the final positioning had been so much like that of her own mother.

When asked, several of the neighbors knew that the teen had a drug issue, even if Edna wasn’t willing to admit it. But then one of them had mentioned something about Given his childhood, it was no wonder . Kate immediately picked up her cell, while everybody else was busy, and called the name on that report. “Hi, I’m looking for a Jack Danielson,” she murmured.

“Speaking,” the man replied.

She identified herself and began, “On the statement that you gave regarding your neighbor’s death, you made a reference to the childhood he’d had. Do you know anything about that childhood?”

“He was abused,” Jack declared. “His father was quite the abuser, and, for a long time, so was his mother. Mostly because of the father, I think, if that’s an excuse. The teen was a ward of the state for quite a while, and then she straightened up, got rid of that sorry excuse for a husband and father, and the State gave the kid back to her. The kid seemed to be more settled, but I guess I’m just not surprised.”

“Right. Have you ever seen him do any drugs?” Then came silence. “Look. I don’t care if you do drugs or not,” she shared. “I’m part of the homicide unit, and I just want to ensure that this wasn’t something I need to pick up as one of my cases.”

“You mean. you think somebody might have killed him?” Jack asked.

“No, I don’t know that at all,” she murmured. “I just don’t want it to be written off as a drug overdose without looking at other alternatives.”

“Interesting,” he murmured. “All I can tell you is that he does have some shady friends, and you’ll probably want to talk to them.”

“And do you know who any of them are?”

He gave her two names. “Don’t tell them where you got the names, please.”

“I certainly won’t,” she declared, with a snort. “What about the mother? Have you ever seen her do any drugs?”

“No, I haven’t seen her do any drugs, but I think I saw the sorry-ass father recently. It really surprised me because I thought he was in jail for domestic assault and abuse, but I guess he could be out by now.”

Kate didn’t say anything, just letting the man talk, but this sounded all too much like Adam’s situation.

Jack continued. “For that matter, if that really was who I saw, and he’s out, you might consider him, if you’re looking for a suspect. The boy gave evidence against his dad, and that’s what put him away. His mom may or may not have as well, but the kid talked to me about it one time. He was really worried and upset, but then he was taken away to foster care. That was quite a few years ago now.”

“Right,” she said. “I get it. And some people have very long memories.”

“They do,” he agreed, his tone turning rough. “Damn, that kid had his whole life ahead of him, and, if some asshole did that to him, that’s just not right. If I were you, I would start there.”

With that, she ended the call, stared at her notes, then decided to tackle this from a completely different perspective. She also needed the autopsy because, if this teen had a history of drug abuse, it would be much harder to prove that anybody else had a hand in his death. As far as her caseload went, Kate didn’t have time or energy for somebody who wasn’t murdered, a fact that would be brought home to her very quickly by Colby if she didn’t get some proof and fast.

She quickly phoned Dr. Smidge.

“What do you want?” he snapped.

She smiled. “I would love to not send you any more bodies, and I would love for a miracle where you tell me that you’ve completed the two autopsies on the boys I’ve already sent you.”

A hard snort came from the other end.

She chuckled. “So, considering that neither one of us will get what we want,” she replied, with a smirk, “I suggest that, when you do the autopsy on the teenager who died this morning, you consider the potential for similarities to the other child who just died.”

“So you said earlier, but I still don’t see any similarities. One is a very young child and did not have a drug problem, so I don’t know why you are thinking his was a drug overdose,” he noted.

She frowned. “Quite correct, but I’m very concerned about that one, the five-year-old.”

“I’m obviously doing everything I can for that little boy,” he explained, “but I don’t have anything for you at this point.”

“Okay,” she murmured. “When it comes back, please consider this other boy, the teenager.” When he hesitated, she added, “Please.”

“Is Simon behind this?” he asked.

She groaned. “If I said yes, would it lend more credence to it?”

“Nope,” he barked, “but it would give me a way to understand why you’re getting a little bit weird in your old age.” And, with that, he ended the call.

She snorted now. Weird in my old age . That’s not exactly what she expected him to say. As she looked around, frowning, Rodney turned to her.

“Was that Smidge?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you asking him to compare those two? I don’t get it.”

She took in a deep breath and shook her head. “Smidge didn’t really get it either, and I understand, but… just something is not quite right.”

He frowned at her. “Has it got something to do with Simon?”

She glared at him. “No, it has nothing to do with Simon. Believe it or not, I do have a brain of my own, and I can sort out shit without Simon.”

Rodney gave her a beaming smile. “You’re doing a bang-up job,” he declared. “So I’ll just sit here and shut my mouth.”

“You do that,” she muttered, glowering at him, “and maybe next time you want to open your mouth, you’ll think first.”

Hearing the others laughing beside her, she turned and glared at them, immediately silencing them all. She nodded with satisfaction. The least she could do was get them to shut up about it.

The fact was, she hadn’t even mentioned this to Simon but was pretty damn sure that he would be all over it. So she just ignored it for now. Still, she needed something solid, and that would come from the coroner. Even then, she wasn’t sure it would be enough to do anything. Because, short of its being exactly the same drug—or something else equally bizarre—it wouldn’t have any effect on any of her current cases.

The bottom line was, she didn’t even know why she was asking, but she couldn’t not ask. There had to be an answer on this one, and, if she got lucky, she would find it. Otherwise it would just persist in bugging her, and that was never a good thing.

About two hours later Smidge phoned her. “What the hell?” he snapped.

She felt that inner knowing. “What did you find?” she asked, trying to keep her excitement down.

“The two of you are one hell of a pair.”

“Sometimes, yes, and the rest of the time, oh hell no.”

He paused at that and started to laugh. “Maybe, but my money is on you guys at this point.”

“What did you find?” she repeated.

“I suspect that the little boy may have been drugged,” he shared. “So now I’ve submitted tox screens for both boys. I’ll keep you posted.”

“And the teenager?” she asked.

“No other sign of drug use. I didn’t find any other tracks. I didn’t find anything at all. So, either this was his first time or potentially… I just don’t know,” he muttered.

“Fascinating,” she murmured.

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s very fascinating at all. They’re on my table, and now I’m shipping those cases off to you.”

“But you’re not done with the autopsies.”

“No, I’m not, but I will be by end of today because, damn it, now you’ve got me going on this one too. Anybody who does this shit to a child has got to be stopped. You sure as hell better get a hold of them before they kill someone else.”

“Oh, I will. Don’t worry.”

“I’m counting on that,” he declared. “Make these assholes pay.” And, with that, he disconnected.

She sat back and smiled.

“How the hell does he actually like you and talk to you, but the rest of us get short shafted all the time?” Lilliana asked her.

“Who?” Kate asked.

Lilliana rolled her eyes. “Are you telling me that wasn’t Smidge?”

“Oh yeah, of course it was Smidge,” she confirmed. “Not too many other people talk to me like that.”

“Yeah, he talks to you though, so I don’t think anybody will have any sympathy for you.”

She laughed. “He does talk to me, but now we have another issue.” She called for the rest of the team and began, “We’ve got two unattended death cases recently, involving children. One was the young teen this morning, sixteen years old. While it appeared to be an overdose, complete with a needle in his arm, that does appear to be his only drug by a needle, per Smidge.

“The other boy was younger, five years old, I think.” She searched through her files for an age and gave up. “While he has obvious signs of abuse, bruises and the like, this child may have a needle mark, which was unexpected. So Smidge submitted tox screens, trying to figure out what the hell happened to this kid.”

Everybody stared at her.

“What does that mean?” Rodney asked, looking at her, clearly puzzled. “They were different ages and in different locations in the city.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “but they did have one connection that I find obscene and am trying to figure it out.”

“What’s that?”

“Both were in domestic violence homes, where both fathers served time for abuse on these particular kids, and both fathers were no longer in prison but were home with the families.”

“Edna never mentioned anything about that,” Rodney protested.

“I know, but I spoke with one of the neighbors earlier today, and he’s pretty sure he saw the hubby around the house in the last few days.”

“Well, shit.”

“Also, in the one case, the teen’s testimony put away his father.”

*

Still shaky and a little upset himself, Simon decided that maybe an hour on the boat with some dinner for him and Kate would bring both of them a certain amount of peace today, even if they couldn’t get out for very long. He sent Kate a text message. Dinner on the Running Mate tonight, if you can make it.

She sent a thumbs-up but no indication as to whether she would make it or not. Then again that was Kate. You took her as you got her, and he was resigned to the fact that he would spend his lifetime waiting on her, rather than her waiting on him. It was certainly a big change in his usual dating history, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad one.

He ordered a picnic basket from his favorite local Jewish deli, including some hot and some cold foods, just in case the weather turned. It was fall technically, not yet the winter solstice, and it was cold. However, a certain amount of beauty could be had in being out there on the water right now. If he had blankets and a chance to get cozy, he was all for it. As soon as he had everything together, he loaded up and headed downstairs.

Harry, the ever-aware doorman, eyed him toting blankets and nodded. “It’s mighty chilly out there, if you are headed out onto the water.”

“I know,” he replied. “I just needed to get out.”

“Ah, are the walls closing in on you?”

“Something like that,” he conceded, with a nod.

Harry helped him with the door, as Simon set out for the boat, as it was within walking distance down to the marina where the Running Mate was moored. He carried on walking, feeling the bite of the cold weather. Maybe they would eat inside. He didn’t know yet, but it was something at least just to have the fresh air, and knowing it was an option to eat indoors or outdoors made life a whole lot easier on him.

As he got there, Simon found Baxter staring at the boat. After all, it had been his once. When Simon called out a greeting, Baxter turned and laughed.

Baxter shook his head. “Okay, you’ve got to have it bad if you’re out here in this weather. You’re not going out, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” Simon shared. “I wish I could, but work and all that.”

“I know. That’s part of the problem. So book in regular holidays in order to take good advantage of having her.” He waited until Simon climbed onboard and invited him too. As he stepped on deck, he noted, “Doesn’t look as if you’ve made any changes.”

“No, not yet,” he murmured. “I was kind of hoping to get her out a few more times before I even contemplated changing anything.”

“She’s in pretty good shape, so I’m not sure you need to do anything anyway.” Baxter stuffed his hands into the pockets of the big burly coat he wore. “I used to come down here in the evenings a lot, just to hang out and unwind.”

“That’s what I’m more or less doing, as it was kind of a rough day,” he shared, looking at his friend.

“And what about your partner?”

“I texted her and told her where I was and that dinner was here with me.”

“Oh, that should bring her pretty fast.”

Simon nodded. “It’s kind of a joke between us, but sometimes she thinks all I do is feed her.”

“It doesn’t look as if it’s taken though. She’s pretty lean.”

“It’s the job.”

“She’s really a cop, huh ?”

“Yeah, a detective,” Simon clarified, “not that the difference is something I’m particularly worried about, but I know for everybody else, having made detective is an improvement over being a beat cop.”

“Unless being a beat cop is what you like,” Baxter pointed out. “My uncle was one for a very long time, and he always said there was no other life for him.”

“Good, he enjoyed it then.”

Baxter stayed there silently a little bit longer, then he announced, “I’m heading home. Enjoy your evening.”

Just as the words left Baxter’s mouth, the moon cleared above, and Simon witnessed an odd kind of a serene light settle in above. He studied it, wondering if it was just him who could see it.

Then Baxter called back, “There’s a spooky light for you. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.”

So Simon wasn’t the only one to see it. Simon nodded and waved his friend off, as Baxter headed down the dock. The light really was something weird. Then this phenomenon happening these days could be climate change, or it could be something else entirely. He was pretty sure his grandmother would have something to say about it. He often wondered why, amid all this he was going through, why he wasn’t getting any messages from her.

It was kind of a joke in his head that part of the reason was because she’d worked so damn hard when she was alive, thus the last thing she would do was work when she was dead. He smiled at the thought because that’s exactly the kind of person she was. She’d had more than enough of her own headaches when she was alive to ever want anything to do with all this while she was on the other side.

She’d been hell on wheels in her day. She gave no quarter, but she’d always done her damnedest for other people. That was part of what had gotten him so confused over the years. If she’d done so much for other people, why the hell had she ended up so poor and unappreciated and friendless? That would remain a mystery until he spoke with some of the odd people who had known her in that life.

Maybe she’d helped a lot of dead people that Simon didn’t know about. It’s not as if she’d ever opened up to him about her gift. More to the point, she’d told him that, when the time came, he wouldn’t really have a whole lot of choice once he opened that door. Now that he had done exactly that, he realized fully what she meant. But he hadn’t known it beforehand. As a matter of fact, it seemed to be damn cowardly on all points. If she’d truly known what was ahead of him, she could have warned him at least.

She clearly had things to say about him and his gift, but maybe she thought it would scare him off. No doubt all of it had scared him off, but life changed when you ended up being able to help somebody through it. And he knew that was what kept Kate going too. She was all heart if somebody needed help, and, if you didn’t need help and took advantage of someone, she was hell on wheels against you.

He sat in the weird light, studying the area around him, thinking that because Baxter had also seen it, then nothing could be spiritual or woo-woo about it. Yet, as he sat here, a strange feeling grew and grew. He looked around, a weird sense of being watched. He frowned and wanted to call out, but instead settled in deeper, keeping a bit more distance between him and whatever, whoever, was out there.

A man called out, “Ahoy.”

Simon leaned over and found a stranger. “Hello.”

The man just stood there for a bit, then added, “I understand you’re a friend of Kate’s.”

“I am a friend of Kate’s,” he stated calmly, studying him, but the lighting was off, and he couldn’t really see who it was. “What can I do for you?”

“I have a message for her,” he replied, and he pulled down his baseball cap and looked around a little nervously.

“What’s the message?” When the stranger hesitated, Simon asked, “Is it your message or have you been asked to deliver it?”

At that, the man eyed him in surprise. “Now why would you say that?”

Simon snorted. “Because somebody else delivered a message not all that long ago, but it wasn’t his message. He was paid to deliver it.”

“I hope he got more than what I got paid tonight,” the man muttered.

“Maybe you should tell me what the message is and who paid you to deliver it.”

“I’m not allowed to tell you who paid me.” The man seemed younger than at first, probably because of the fear centered in his tone. At that, the man started to back up.

Simon stepped closer, so he could see him better. “You still need to tell me what the message is. Otherwise, you won’t get paid.”

“I’ve already been paid,” he stated.

“That’s fine, but you still need to tell me the message.”

The man frowned at him. “You’re not what I expected.”

“It doesn’t matter what you expected,” Simon pointed out, with a sigh, “but let me guess. I think I already know what the message is.”

At that, the other guy frowned at him. “I don’t think so, but then maybe you do,” he snorted. “Okay, go ahead and guess.”

“I think the message is a single word,” he declared. “ Think .”

The other man’s jaw dropped. “How the hell did you know that?” he asked, sputtering.

“As I told you, somebody already delivered a similar message.”

“ Huh . I don’t know why he needs to do it twice, but, yeah, that’s the message.” And, just as he went to turn, he ran directly into somebody, who reached out and snagged him, held on to him hard. The young man started to resist. “Let me go. Let me go,” he cried out. “I didn’t do nothing wrong. I didn’t do nothing wrong.”

Simon half smiled at her. “Kate, he’s the messenger.”

Kate glared at him. “That’s nice,” she snapped in a flinty tone. “He’s one I want to talk to.”

“I don’t know anything,” he cried out, and, with a hard jerk, he bolted free and raced into the darkness.