Stealing Shadows - Hiding In The Shadows Part 34

"Do you want me to apologize for what I said to Burnett, is that it?" he

demanded.

Faith blinked at the anger in his voice, but other- wise remained

unruffled. "If you feel you were wrong, say so. But don't do it just to placate me."

For a dizzy moment he wondered if she had any idea how much like Dinah

she'd sounded. Dinah, who had hated false repentance and always refusedto accept a careless I'm sorry, even to pour oil on troubled waters. Shehad always preferred an honest fight to fake peace, no matter what itcost her.

Slowly, he said, "I don't feel I was wrong, except maybe in presuming that you needed me to interfere.

I will apologize for that."

"Thank you. I can fight my own battles, you know."

"You didn't seem to want to fight Burnett."

"Dr. Burnett," she said with great deliberation, "helped me get back on my feet after I came out of the coma. I'll always be grateful to him for that."

"It was his job, Faith."

"I'm aware of that."

Is he?"

Faith was silent for a moment, then said, "I'm his patient, nothing

more. Not that it's any of your business. "

Kane knew she was right. It was none of his business. Absolutely none of his business.

Casting about for something casual to say, he asked, "Did you bring your

apartment keys with you? if so, we can drop by on our way out to the

construction site."

"I think so." She opened her shoulder bag and checked inside. He heard the clink of keys and then saw her frown.

"What?"

She drew out a folded piece of paper and opened it slowly. Her face went

blank as she read whatever was written there, and he saw her fingers tremble.

"Faith?"

She looked at him, and for an instant he thought she was going to

crumple the paper or tear it to pieces.

Then she held it out to him.

It was half a sheet torn carelessly from a notebook, and the singlehandwritten sentence on it sprawled across the page as if the author hadbeen in a hurry.

Faith, look in my apartment inside the book.

"It isn't my writing," Faith said.

The words blurred before Kane's eyes. "No. It's Dinah's."

She didn't want to go into Dinah's apartment. Beside her, Kane was stilland silent, and she was vividly conscious of his anger and disbelief.

He didn't believe she had never seen the note before or that it had not been in her bag a few days before. Nor did he believe she hadn't writtenit her- self, somehow duplicating Dinah's handwriting well enough to fool hisincredulous eyes.

He didn't believe, because any other explanation chipped away at hissanity. And he was angry with her because ... what? Because he thoughtshe was playing with his emotions, mocking his grief?

Faith didn't know what she believed. All she knew was that the note had not been in her bag before today and that she had not written it herselfin some inexplicable attempt to deceive Kane. She knew Dinahhadn't written it, because Dinah was dead.

And she knew one last thing, one final stark fact she was absolutelycertain of- Wherever the note had come from, the message it containedwas from Dinah.

She knew that.

Kane said, "If it takes longer than ... If it looks like I'll be late inmeeting the inspector, I'll call and have him wait." He sounded calm,but she thought it was a precarious calm.

He's angry at everybody because she's gone. And now this has to happen.

And I make a handy target for his anger.

She didn't blame him for what he felt, but there was an anger in Faithas well, and she didn't know how much longer she could handle it insilence.

When they reached Dinah's apartment building, the driver went around theblock once so they could make certain no media lurked in the area. Butsince no crime had been committed there, since her apartment was emptyand her neighbors had long since stopped responding to questions fromthe press, the journalists who had camped out there in the days justafter Dinah's disappearance had finally gone away.

Even so, the bodyguard insisted on going with them up to the thirdfloor, insisted on checking the apartment door carefully with a littleelectronic gadget he carried, and, after Kane had disarmed the securitysystem, insisted he go in first to make certain there was no danger. It was, after all, what Kane was paying him for.

Faith was grateful for the few minutes allowed her before she had to goinside.

"Do you know if I've ... ever been here before?" she asked Kane, afterthe bodyguard closed the door, leaving them alone.

"She never mentioned it."

Angry. He's so angry.

Faith didn't say anything else. She felt Kane's gaze on her.

The bodyguard came out and said they could enter.

Faith walked slowly into the living room and looked around. Theapartment smelled of lemon; Kane had told her that he'd had a cleaningservice come in every week, 'just as Dinah had, but it had been vacantfor many weeks and there was an air of emptiness about it.

Faith s.h.i.+vered and wrapped her arms about herself as she tried to remaindetached and study the room. Plenty of natural light, s.p.a.cious. Thefurniture was high quality, the wood pieces gleaming with lemon oil andthe upholstery constructed of expensive material, but the appearance wascasual, the cus.h.i.+ons overstuffed and comfortable.

The neatness contributed to the empty feel, with accent pillows placedprecisely, and magazines on the stone-topped coffee table alignedexactly, and no clutter anywhere.

Looking around, she was sure that she had been here before, and morethan once. I know there are two bedrooms and a bathroom. And even thoughI can't see it from here, there's a clock near the kitchen table, andthe dish towels have apples on them. And she loves plants, but hers aresilk because she forgets to water the real ones and they die ... Shakingoff the odd sensations, Faith walked over to a wall between two largewindows where a book- case was filled to bursting.

... Inside the book.

Which book? There must have been a hundred on this set of shelves alone,and she didn't have to look down the hallway toward the bedrooms to knowthat it was lined with bookshelves just as filled as these were.

Conscious of Kane behind her, Faith reached up to a shelf and beganrunning a finger along the spines of the books, stopping on each justlong enough to read the t.i.tles.

"What are you looking for?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"Don't you?"

She looked back over her shoulder at him. "No, I don't know. I have noidea which book she-which book the note meant. Do you?"

"The note was directed to you," he answered implacably.

"Okay, fine. Why don't you go on to your appointment with the inspector?

Leave the guard outside and take the driver with you. I'll stay here and look through these books."

His mouth tightened. "I'm not leaving you alone."

"I'm not alone. The guard can stay."

"It'll take hours to go through all her books," Kane said roughly.

"Then I'll stay here for hours."

"G.o.dd.a.m.nit, Faith, you know Dinah didn't write that note!"

She didn't flinch. "I don't know who wrote it. But I am absolutely

positive the message is from Dinah."

"Dinah is dead."

'Yes." Faith made herself go on in the calmest voice she could manage.

"And I've known things about her all along, Kane. The flashes of those

scenes with you. The dog attacking her. That room in the Cochranewarehouse where they-where they hurt her. And the sound of water nearwhere she was found. I knew all of that, saw it or heard it or felt it.

And I'm telling you now that the message in the note is from Dinah."

"Are you channeling the dead now, Faith?"

"I'm 'just telling you what I know. There is some- thing in one of these

books, something Dinah wants me to find. I have to look for it."

Kane stared at her for a long while, then swore and reached for his cell phone. "All right. I'll reschedule with the inspector for tomorrow."

He stepped away to use the phone, and Faith didn't try to talk him out

of it. She knew he still didn't believe her about the note, but at leastnow he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.