Mel changed everything. Just, he supposed, as she was meant to.

"I don't consider it cynicism to recognize a charlatan masquerading as a Samaritan." Her eyes were hot when she leaned forward. "This psychic business is as phony as a ten-dollar magician in a shiny suit pulling rabbits out of his hat."

His brow quirked. It was the only sign of interest or irritation. "Is that so?"

"A seam's a scam, Mr. Donovan. A young child's future is at stake, and I won't have you playing your mumbo-jumbo games to get your name in the papers. I'm sorry, Rose." She stood, almost vibrating with anger. "I care about you, and I care about David. I just can't stand by and watch this guy hose you."

"He's my baby." The tears Rose had been battling spilled over. "I have to know where he is. I have to know if he's all right. If he's scared or happy. He doesn't even have his teddy bear." Rose buried her face in her hands. "He doesn't even have his teddy bear."

Mel cursed herself, cursed her temper, cursed Sebastian Donovan, cursed the world in general. But when she knelt beside Rose, both her hands and voice were gentle.

"I'm sorry. Honey, I'm sorry. I know how scared you are. I'm scared, too. If you want Mr. Donovan to—" she almost choked on the word "to help, then he'll help." She raised her furious, defiant face to Sebastian's. "Won't you?"

"Yes." He nodded slowly, feeling fate take his hands. "I will."

He managed to persuade Rose to drink some water and dry her eyes. While Mel stared grimly out the window, Rose took a small yellow teddy bear out of her bag.

"This is David's. His favorite. And this…" She fumbled with a wallet sized snapshot. "This is his picture. I thought—Mrs. Ott said you might need something."

"It helps." He took the toy and felt a vicious pull in his gut that he recognized as Rose's grief. He would have to go through, and beyond, that. But he didn't look at the photograph. Not yet. "Leave it with me. I'll be in touch." He helped her to her feet. "You have my word. I'll do what I can."

"I don't know how to thank you. For trying. Just knowing you are… Well, it gives me something else to hope for. We, Stan and me, we've got some money saved."

"We'll talk about it later."

"Rose, wait in the car for me," Mel said it quietly, but Sebastian could see that she was feeling anything but quiet. "I'll pass on what information I have to Mr. Donovan. It may help him."

"All right." A smile ghosted around Rose's mouth. "Thank you."

Mel waited until Rose was out of earshot, then turned and fired. "How much do you think you can squeeze out of her for this kind of a con? She's a waitress. Her husband's a mechanic."

He leaned lazily against the doorjamb. "Ms. Sutherland, does it appear I need money?"

She made another derisive sound. "No, you've got just buckets, don't you? It's all just a game for you."

He curled his fingers around her arm with a steely strength that caught her off guard. "It's not a game." His voice was so low, so filled with suppressed violence, that she blinked. "What I have, what I am, is no game. And stealing children from their playpens is no game, either."

"I won't see her hurt again."

"We can agree on that. If you're so against this, why did you bring her?"

"Because she's my friend. Because she asked me to."

He accepted that with a slight nod. Loyalty was something else he could feel pumping out of her. "And my private number? You dug that up, as well?''

Her lip curled in something close to a sneer. "That's my job."

"And are you good at it?"

"Damn right."

"Fine. I'm also good at mine, and we're going to be working together."

"What makes you think—?"

"Because you care. And if there's a chance—oh, even the slimmest chance—that I'm what I claim to be, you won't want to risk ignoring it."

She could feel the heat from his fingers. It seemed to sizzle right through the skin to her bones. It occurred to her that she was afraid. Not physically. It was deeper than that. She was afraid because she'd never felt this kind of power before.

"I work alone."

"So do I," he said calmly. "As a rule. We're going to break the rules." He reached in, quick as a snake. He wanted one thing, one small thing, to rub her nose in. Finding it, he smiled. "I'll be in touch very soon. Mary Ellen."

He had the pleasure of seeing her mouth fall open, of seeing her eyes narrow as she thought back, struggling to remember if Rose had used her full name. But she couldn't remember, couldn't be sure. Shaken, she jerked away.

"Don't waste my time, Donovan. And don't call me that." With a toss of her head, she strode to the car. She might not be psychic, but she knew he was grinning.

Chapter 2

Sebastian didn't go back inside, not even after he had watched the little gray car trail down the ribbon of Highway 1. He stood on the porch, both amused and faintly irritated by the sizzles of anger and frustration Mel had left behind to spark in the air.

Strong-willed, he mused. And just brimming with energy. A woman like that would exhaust a peaceful man. Sebastian considered himself a peaceful man. Not that he wouldn't mind poking at her a bit, the way a young boy pokes at glowing embers to see how often he can get a flame to shoot up.

It was often worth the risk of a few minor burns to make fire.

At the moment, however, he was just too tired to enjoy it. He was already angry with himself for having agreed to become involved. It was the combination of the two women that had done it to him, he thought now. The one with her face so full of fears and desperate hope, the other so vivid with fury and sneering disbelief. He could have handled one or the other, he thought as he descended the steps. But being caught in the middle of all that conflicting emotion, the sheer depth of it, had defeated him.

So he would look. Though he had promised himself a long, quiet break before taking on another case, he would look. And he would pray to whatever god was listening that he could live with what he might see.

But for now, he would take some time—one long, lazy morning—to heal his fatigued mind and ragged soul.