pay the price.
I leaned my head against the counter, enduring the pain, telling myself that it would be worth it, as the two women dropped to their knees, frantic to preserve the evidence.
“What the ever-loving hell was that?” Maggie asked as she scooped up the bags and placed them back in the box. “Nothing broke, thank god.”
“I don’t know.” Peggy was old, but her fingers were nimble as she plucked bags from the floor. “I didn’t touch it. Did you?”
“I wasn’t even close to it . . .” Maggie’s voice trailed off. She leaned back on her heels and held up the small plastic bag of granules, examining the label. A bolt of exultation ran through me. Yes. “Did you get to this yet?”
Peggy shook her head. “Let me see.” She held the bag up to the light and scrutinized its contents. “Sand?”
“That’s your call, not mine. But I did think it was out of place. I found it near her right foot. I think it came out of a shoe, a shoe the killer probably took with him when he left. Maybe she was killed on a golf course?”
Peggy examined the bag more intently. “I see purple and black granules. This isn’t sand, but it sure is something.”
Think, I willed Peggy. Think back to the Alissa Hayes case. You’ve seen this before, you must remember.
I closed my eyes and tried to imagine Peggy the way she had been when she had testified at the trial. Had she held the bag of evidence in her hand? Had she been asked about the granules? I searched my imperfect memory for guidance, willing Peggy to remember, too.
“What is it?” Maggie asked, hearing something in Peggy’s voice that was going unsaid and noticing the stillness of her posture.
“I don’t know exactly.” Peggy struggled to her feet and slid back onto her stool, removing the slide that was under her scope and labeling its contents for further study. “I think I’ve seen this stuff before.”
“Where?”
“I don’t remember. But I will. It was another case. I just need some time to remember.”
I leaned against the wall, eyes closed, still throbbing with a pain that threatened the equilibrium I had grown accustomed to over the last six months. But pain could not kill me. I was already dead. And if I had done something to help, anything at all, it would be worth it in the end.
I willed Alissa Hayes to appear in my memory, trying to send the image to Peggy’s mind. If I could not cross the boundaries of the physical world, I would use what power I had to affect her thoughts and guide her emotions.
A cool draft brushed my cheek. I opened my eyes. Alissa Hayes stood next to me, looking at me solemnly. I smiled at her and her mouth twitched, just a little, as if she wanted to smile back, but could not.
There was something different about her face. I tried to piece it together. Then I had it: the horrible bruises that had bloomed beneath her eyes and across her cheekbones were gone. Her skin was smooth.
Somehow, her existence in the plane we shared had been altered.
I think I was the one who had done it.
Chapter 7
It was a long time before I could move again. It took at least an hour to recover. Alissa had disappeared and Maggie had returned to her desk by the time the pain receded. I felt heavy and listless, unable to leave my spot against the lab wall. I had no choice but to wait, praying my energy would return and wondering if I had somehow lost my ability to move about forever—then wondering what “forever” meant in my present state.
As I waited, I watched Peggy scrutinize the granules under her microscope. To pursue knowledge now seemed like a gift that I had too seldom indulged when I’d had the chance. But Peggy was a master at it. By the time I felt able to make my way down the hall, she had turned to her computer and was researching the composition of chemical compounds as intently as if they were runes and she a druid priestess determined to bring their magic to life.
I found Maggie on her hands and knees, oblivious to everything but my old unsolved case files spread before her on the floor. I didn’t know where she had stored my photo or if it meant anything to her at all. She was reading the case files with a concentration