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a deep breath and finished making the coffee, even added an extra spoonful of cinnamon. By the time the coffee finished brewing, I was steady enough to unlock the door for Violet.
    “You know,” she greeted me, “it’s ironic that as soon as you get a hot date he goes missing.”
    I pressed my hands tight against the counter to keep them from shaking. “Yeah. It figures. Violet—”
    She looked up from pouring the coffee. “Huh?”
    “Are you going to find him?”
    “Yep. Sure am.”
    “He was called for an assignment. Maybe Jayne’s wrong, maybe she didn’t know.”
    “She knew.” Two words from Violet, and the hope I was clinging to vanished.
    “You think it’s Tony’s murder—”
    “Stop. Just stop. It’s my job to find him, and I’m very good at my job.”
    “Who’d think I could care this much after a weird encounter on the beach, a piece of apple pie, and a ride on a motorcycle?”
    She grinned at me. “Motorcycle, huh? I’d’ve been a whole lot more surprised if you didn’t care. In case you haven’t noticed, you rarely do anything halfway.”
    “Right. You’re right. And the image of Tony’s body was so real.”
    “Uh-huh, death’ll smack you into reality every time.”
    She sounded calm. Too calm.
    “You’ve never talked about working with a murderer, murders, whatever.”
    “There’s been a time or two.” Not something Violet would normally say. She rarely shared anything about her work. She slid the pot back into place and paused. Just for a second. If I hadn’t been paying attention I would have missed it.
    We each took a corner of the sofa and curled up with our cinnamon-laced coffee.
    “You know—” determination clipped her words— “I can’t tell you a thing about my conversation with Jayne Hunt. Not until I get a release.”
    “Got it.” Nothing new there since my work had the same confidentiality issues.
    “And I expect you to come clean on all the info you hold in your memory as well as—”
    “My intuitive knowledge.” I completed her sentence. “Thing is, I didn’t touch him. Kept my fingertips to myself the whole time we were together.”
    “On the motorcycle?”
    “Even then. I held on, tightly, but my fingers were tucked in. I couldn’t touch him that way. There’s the respect thing, and I care about him.”
    “Huh. Still, I want details, sensations, anything that can help me find him.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Jayne will probably want to talk to you too, and I get the feeling that she won’t readily accept this ‘touching quirk’ that led to the whole apple pie-with-her-brother scenario.”
    I knew Violet was right and cleared my mind so I could recount my time with Mitch as precisely as possible. By the time we’d gone through everything a zillion times, I was exhausted but needed to share one more idea. “I don’t believe in coincidences. I’m positive there’s a reason we’re all tangled up in this together, and I think you should look at my murder collage.”
    Violet’s gaze must have been focused on that soft spot between my shoulder blades, ‘cause it started to itch as I jogged to the dining room to retrieve the storyboard. Tightening the belt on my robe, I picked up the collage, ignored the jarring memory of my mental state during its creation, and turned to face her—totally normal. Well, maybe not, but as close to normal as I could act. “I’m a little out of my element with this.”
    Violet stared at the storyboard for a few minutes, then looked at me with bottomless green eyes. “Explain what this means. I don’t get it.”
    “The predominant picture—” I stuffed my hands into the deep, patch pockets on my robe. Protection? Hell, yes— “of the dead body, is obvious, except Tony wasn’t covered in blood. The big cat with the diamond collar and leash. I think it means what we’re facing has very big teeth, an angry disposition, and is deadly beautiful.”
    “Uh-huh.” She really wasn’t