Unfortunately, any effort to turn the conversation
back to Frank, the nice guy she’d met on the plane
who’d sent her their way, had been met with a blank
stare.
But the visit hadn’t been a total waste. She’d seen
pictures of several High Reverends hanging on the
walls, with glossy name plaques underneath. She’d
pass on names and descriptions to Calliope and do her
own search, as well.
The night was crisp, but there was no wind, and the
stars were out now. As out as they could be in the middle of downtown.
Within a few blocks of the temple, she had the eerie
sensation that she was being followed, watched. She
stopped to stare at a display of geriatric bathroom aids
and thought she spotted a guy’s reflection in the window. Tall. Blond. She kept walking. Two blocks later,
he was still there, reflected in the window of a pawn
112
SINS OF THE HEART
shop. She took her time studying the image. It was a
bit blurred at the edges, and she could see the traffic
through the guy’s translucent chest. With a sigh, she
turned. The wind caught his hair and whipped it around
his face.
Only there was no wind. The night was dead calm.
She couldn’t see his features, but she didn’t doubt
his identity. She’d had these waking dreams in the
years since she’d last seen Dagan Krayl. She’d thought
they were just conjurings of the part of her psyche that
had never moved past that night in the old factory.
But now, she wondered if this were something else.
