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extracted a ring of keys. Using the flashlight beam to study the silver and gold pieces of metal, he located the one he needed and unlocked the door. "Ladies, first."
    "How did you get that key?"
    Chance stepped inside and used the flashlight to scan the room. "Old Stan gave it to me himself. He had one to my place, too. While he did not particularly like me, we were the only neighbors for miles around. I'm the one who found him after he passed away. No telling how long his death would have gone unnoticed if I had not stopped... I'm sorry, babe. That was callus of me. This place is spooky enough without me planting images of ghost in your brain. Where should we look first?"
    They started in the kitchen. The cabinets were outdated and the stove needed replacing. They searched every room downstairs without any luck. Chance searched upstairs alone, warning Adrienne there were several rotten places in the floor. "Hell, she's not in here," he called down.
    Adrienne was forced to admit defeat after nearly an hour. "Maybe she went back home or something. Let's go out the front door. My car is still there. I hope the battery didn't die."
    Chance had given her the flashlight as he reached to pull out his key ring again. The heavy ring slipped to the floor, and she turned around to flash the light so he could find them. The beam caught a brief flash of Cherice's face high against the far wall of the front room. Surprised with her discovery, she accidently dropped the beam to alert Chance. "There she is! She must have climbed up on a bookcase or something."
    Chance took the flashlight and used it to scan the room. "Where is she, Adrienne?"
    "Over there," the woman yelled, grabbing his hand and guiding him in the right direction. The beam illuminated a large fireplace. A five-foot painting hung above it. A tall, solemn man dominated the frame. In front of him sat a breathtakingly beautiful woman with raven hair. A small child with the same hair was cradled in the woman's lap.
    "Oh, my Lord!" Adrienne gasped, her knees going weak. Chance reached one strong arm around her for support. "That's her. The little girl in that picture is the child I almost ran over tonight. Who is she?"
    "Meet your Uncle Stanislaus, Aunt Wynona and their daughter. I never asked what her name was when I used to visit old Stan. Hell, I didn't even know the woman's name until I started looking into your claim on the property. Old Stan did not like to talk about them. All I know is the two of them died in some freak accident about seventy-five years ago."

Three
     
    "Power of suggestion," Adrienne told herself as she walked around the living room of Chance's home. She was totally ignoring the sexy man seated on a sofa, watching her lay down a track across his carpet more efficiently than a vacuum cleaner could. "It was dark and I was in someplace new. All those scary movies I watched in college primed my subconscious to imagine all kinds of stupid things."
    Chance nodded, happy she was finally thinking logically. Then the woman stopped and did an about face. "But how did I know what the child looked like before I even saw the picture? How did I know exactly where to turn to get to River Oaks?"
    "I drew you a map, remember?" Chance offered before sipping a glass of brandy.
    Slapping herself on the forehead, Adrienne started walking counter clockwise around the room. "The human brain is a remarkable machine. Did I really know what the small child in the picture looked like ahead of time? Or did my brain latch on to the picture as a plausible explanation? Your map was detailed enough to explain locating the place." She stopped again. "But what about the fog? My clothes were wet."
    Chance was getting dizzy watching her. If she did not settle down soon, neither of them would get any sleep tonight. Looking at his watch, he groaned. To hell with tonight. It was already two in the morning. She refused the glass of brandy he offered. Chance highly doubted she would let him