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psychic investigator. I must say, he looks interesting. Definitely a high-end talent. I do hope he’s competent.”
    “You and me, both,” Gwen said under her breath.
    “What did you say?” Judson asked.
    “Nothing.” She dragged her attention away from the mirror, lowered her senses and looked at him. “Talking to myself. I do that sometimes. Bad habit.” She swept a hand out to indicate the overturned office. “What happened here?”
    “I’ll go out on a limb here and say that it sure looks like someone was searching for something he expected to find in Evelyn’s office.”
    “No kidding.” She paused, frowning. “Maybe the killer didn’t find whatever he was after on her computer so he came back to take another look.”
    “I don’t think so.” Judson prowled deliberately through the office, stopping briefly to brush his fingertips across the top of the desk. “I think we’re dealing with someone else. Doesn’t mean there isn’t a connection between the second person and the killer, though.”
    “What makes you think that there was a second person here?”
    “There’s a lot of desperation and growing rage in this space. Whoever conducted the search started out with a high level of urgency and left in a frustrated fury.”
    Gwen was fascinated. “You can sense all that?”
    “Sure,” Judson said, “providing the emotions were laid down with a lot of intense energy as they were in this case. It’s what I do, Gwen.”
    “All right, let’s think about this. If there was a second intruder, maybe he was searching for whatever was on the computer or the cell phone, in which case he didn’t find it because the killer got to the information first.”
    “That’s a reasonable assumption.” Judson crouched on the floor and shuffled through the folders that had been dumped on the carpet. “Some of these files go back thirty years.”
    “I told you, Evelyn devoted her life to the study of the paranormal. But in the end, she was never able to prove anything to mainstream science.”
    Judson opened several folders and examined the contents. “Looks like most of her research was focused on dreams.”
    “Much of it was, yes. That’s why she and I became so close. I met Evelyn when I was in high school at the Summerlight Academy. She was a counselor there, the only one who really understood my psychic side. My aura vision is linked to my lucid-dreaming ability.”
    “Yeah?”
    She flushed, remembering how bad things had gone that night in Seattle when she had made the mistake of offering to fix his dark dreams.
    “Never mind,” she said quickly. “It’s complicated, believe me.”
    “I believe you.” Judson got to his feet with the languid grace of a tiger. “You and Ballinger stayed in touch after you left Summerlight?”
    “Yes.” She watched Judson move through the room. “Well? What do you think? Did Evelyn die of natural causes because of the shock of a random home invasion? Or was she murdered?”
    Judson stopped in the vicinity of the space where Gwen had found Evelyn’s body. Energy heated the atmosphere.
    “She was murdered,” he said quietly. “No question about it.”
    Gwen thought she was prepared for that answer. It was the same conclusion that she had arrived at that morning. Nevertheless, Judson’s matter-of-fact certainty made her catch her breath.
    “By paranormal means?” she asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Damn, just like last time.” Gwen made fists with her hands. “I was hoping I was wrong.”
    Judson did not respond to that. Instead, he did another short circuit of the room and stopped again near the desk.
    “What?” she asked. “I can tell that something isn’t coming together for you.”
    Judson met her eyes. “Ballinger died here, where I’m standing. But I’m almost positive that the killer was not physically close to her when she died. He was standing over there, near the door.”
    “Oh, crap, are you sure?”
    He gave her a politely patient look.