“Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“What? No. Up for hours. Um.” He dragged a hand through his hair, tousling it further. What was she doing there? Did they have an appointment? Jeez, what time was it? “Sorry. My mind’s . . . come on in.”

The peek past him showed her the room jammed with equipment. Lights were glowing, and something was beeping steadily. “You must be working. I won’t disturb you. I just wanted to bring you some of last night’s dessert. You missed it.”

“Dessert? Oh, right. Thanks. Come in.”

“Actually, I’m on my way to work, so I’ll just . . .” Since she was now talking to his retreating back, Nell shrugged and stepped inside, closed the door behind her. “Why don’t I just put this in the kitchen for you?”

“Uh-huh. Look at this. Wait, wait.” He held up one hand, making notes with the other as he studied a printout that put Nell in mind of a seismograph.

After a moment he looked over at her again and beamed. “You just sparkle, don’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“The readings changed the minute you came into the house.”

“Really?” Fascinated, she stepped a little closer. And realized that no matter how close she got, she would never understand a thing about it.

“It’s different with Ripley,” Mac went on. “Her readings are all over the chart, and you never know. But you, you’re a dependable soul.”

Her lips pursed, the beginnings of a pout. “That makes me sound boring.”

“On the contrary.” He took the plate from her, lifting the protective wrap to break off a piece of the pie. Scattering crumbs. “You’re a comfort. I’d say you’re a woman who’s found her place and is happy there. I’m sorry I messed up dinner last night.”

“You didn’t. If you’re going to eat that now, let me get you a fork.”

When she walked back to the kitchen, he followed her, watched her go to the right drawer, take out a fork. “Does it . . . sorry.”

“Does it bother me to be in here?” she finished for him, and handed him the fork. “No. This house is clean. I cleansed it myself. I needed to do it myself.”

“A strong comfort. Sheriff Todd’s a very lucky man.”

“Yes, he is. Sit down, Mac, I’ve got ten minutes. Do you want coffee with that?”

“Well . . .” He glanced down at the pie. He couldn’t quite remember if he’d eaten any breakfast. Besides, the pie was here. “Sure.”

“You said it was different with Ripley,” Nell said as she measured out coffee. What was already in the pot looked nearly as hideous as it smelled, and she poured it straight down the drain. “You’re right. I don’t know all the reasons why, but she doesn’t talk about it. And if I did, I wouldn’t talk about it. It’s for her. But she’s my sister, so I’m going to ask you straight out. Is your interest in her only to do with your work?”

“No.” He shifted a bit, seeking comfort. He was a man more used to asking the questions than answering them. “In fact, it would probably be easier for me, and certainly easier for her, if she wasn’t involved in the work. But she is. Was she all right when she got home last night?”

“She wasn’t angry anymore. Unsettled, but not angry. I’m going to confess and get this out of the way. I set things up last night.”

“You mean the pink candles, the rose quartz, sprigs of rosemary, and so on?” Relaxed again, Mac shoveled another bite of pie into his mouth. “I noticed.”

“So much for subtlety.” Irked, Nell got down a mug. “I didn’t do a spell.”

“Appreciate it,” he said with his mouth full. “I also appreciate knowing you thought about doing one. I’m flattered you’d consider me someone you’d like to see with Ripley.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Not exactly. I upset her last night, and I’m sorry for that. But it’s something we’re both going to have to come to terms with. She is what she is. I do what I do.”

Angling her head, Nell studied him. “She wouldn’t be attracted to you—not for long, anyway—if you were a pushover.”

“Good to know. Will you talk to me on the record?”

“Yes.”

“Just like that? No qualifications?”

She set his coffee on the table. “I won’t tell you anything I don’t want you to know. I’m still learning, Mac. I may learn as much from you as you do from me. But now I have to get to work.”

“One question. Does the power make you happy?”

“Yes. Happy and centered and strong. But I could be all those things without it.” Her dimples winked.

“Now ask me if I could be this happy without Zack.”

“I don’t have to.”

After she’d left, Mac sat thinking about her for a while, about how she seemed to fit so comfortably into the rhythm of the island, the rhythm of her power.

It couldn’t have been easy for her, yet he thought she made it seem like the most natural thing in the world to have started a new life out of the horrors of another.

What had happened to her hadn’t scarred her. She’d been able to trust again, to love again. To become. That, he decided, made her the most admirable woman of his acquaintance. He could also see why Ripley was so determined to protect her. Somehow he would have to make the hardheaded deputy see that Nell was in no danger from his direction. He packed up the equipment he wanted to take with him on his planned field trip. And spent ten frustrating minutes searching for his glasses before realizing that he’d hooked them onto his shirt pocket. He found his keys in the bathroom medicine cabinet, scooped up a few extra pencils, and was on his way to the south point of the island.

TheLogan house pulled at him. He could think of no other way to describe the almost physical tug he experienced when he stood on the edge of the narrow shale road and studied it. It was big and rambling. He wouldn’t have said it was particularly grand, particularly charming. Compelling, he decided as he dragged out his recorder to log his thoughts.

“TheLogan house sits on the south point of the island, and is accessible by a narrow crushed-shale road. There are other houses nearby, but this one sits on the highest rise and is closest to the sea.”