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ghost’s. She was trembling. The crazy images were still swirling in her head, the foremost, the ghost fighting the creatures to protect her .
    “Where’s your sister?” he asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.
    “She’s been buried alive.”
    But as she searched the ghost’s gray eyes her thoughts were still fixed on how he’d fought off the things he’d called soul collectors. He was her only hope in finding Amy. She had to have his protection in order to use her ability. “I’ve got to find her. I’ve got to find her now. Can you help me?”
    Something bleak and hopeless sparked in his gaze but he gave her a nod. “And then will you help me?”
    Jillian searched his eyes. Something sincere lurked in the dove gray depths. He could help her. He would help her. She inhaled. She had to do this. She had to use her psychic ability to find her sister. She was certain of it now. She didn’t know how she knew. It was just a feeling. A knowing . It was something she had not felt since she’d turned her back on her ability.
    It was a psychic hit.
    But how could she ever muster the strength to do it? To reenter the netherworld where the line between the dead and the living was indistinguishable? And although she was certain the ghost would keep the evil beings at bay while she used her ability to find her sister, she turned her head away from him and shut her eyes tightly. “I’ll help you find the Light. Just let me go. Please.”
    The sudden absence of his unyielding body against hers left her with a strange indefinable feeling inside. Stunned, she sank down the wall until her backside found the carpeted floor.
    Something touched her hand and she jolted, only to discover it was Boo’s little black wet nose. Still clutching the bronze button, she gathered the dog into her arms and squeezed her.
    She had to remain coherent. This could all be solved logically. But the ghost’s gray gaze and lazy drawl lingered in the forefront of her mind. She had seen what had happened to Amy. But the ghost had seen something in Jillian’s own aura. A warning.
    She opened her palm and stared at the button. What was it about the thing that tied the ghost to it? What had Amy known? And how was the ghost linked to her disappearance?
    Every second was crucial. She had to get up. She had to shake off her fear of ghosts and call him back. And she had to accept her repressed psychic ability. Not only was Amy’s life at stake, hers was as well.
    Clutching Boo, she pushed herself up and dropped the button back into her pocket. On shaky legs, she rushed toward the front door.
    When she flung it open, a scream tore from her throat.
    There, fixed to the red paint with silver duct tape, was a hank of Amy’s long blonde hair.
    * * * * *
     
    Jillian still had not put Boo down when Theo wheeled his blue and white police cruiser into Amy’s driveway. Breathless, she met him as he opened his car door. “There, on the front door…” She swiped at tears with her free hand. “Amy’s hair. Oh God, Theo. I was in the house when…”
    Theo enveloped her in a one-armed hug while his gaze scanned the area. “The others are on their way. We’re going to dust the area for prints. This may be a good thing, Jillian. This time, he may have left us a clue.”
    Jillian sniffed. She had to pull herself together but the horrifying sight of her sister’s hair taped to the door after her creepy encounter with the ghost had left her in a state of shock.
    A cold, drizzling rain had started to fall but Jillian had not gone back inside the house. Her clothes were drenched. Her crocodile shoes were scratched and muddy. Boo trembled in her arms.
    “Come inside,” Theo coaxed.
    Shaking, Jillian allowed him to lead her back into the house. She deliberately kept her gaze away from the lock of hair but then the sight of the Ouija board and card table sparked new horrors in her as he guided her to the crimson velvet sofa. Boo jumped down and darted into the