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going to stay.
    * * *
    "When will I get the results?" Dylan asked as the lab technician finished taking his blood. He’d already deposited a urine sample, covering all the bases.
    "Tomorrow for some of them, a few days or even longer for the rest. DNA can take weeks, depending on the lab’s workload."
    "DNA," he echoed, his heart skipping a beat.
    "That’s right," the tech said as she pulled out a cotton-tipped stick. "One last swab."
    "Can’t you do the test from the blood?"
    "Yes, but this works just as well, and we don’t have to take more blood."
    Damn . Why hadn’t he realized that the tests would include DNA? He could have just helped set himself up. He glanced down at his hand. The cut he’d acquired some time during the night was about an inch long. Had Erica cut him and planted the blood in her cabin? It seemed too devious a plan for someone like her to concoct. She wasn’t a rocket scientist. She barely had a high school education. Someone else had to be calling the shots.
    After the tech took the swab, she said, "You’re good to go."
    Dylan stood up and grabbed his coat off a nearby chair before heading out the door. He was relieved to have that over with, but he had no idea what to do next, how to go about defending his innocence when it was becoming clear that someone was going to a lot of trouble to make him look guilty of something.
    Catherine was waiting in the hallway. She jumped to her feet, giving him a wary smile. "How’s it going?"
    "I’m done. It will take some time to get the results. They should prove I was incapacitated last night, too out of it to do whatever they think I did."
    She nodded. "I hope that’s the way it works out."
    He frowned at the doubt in her voice. "You don’t sound too confident."
    "I’m sorry. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and I’m confused by everything that’s happened."
    "Me, too. Speaking of confused, what the hell happened to you back at the squad car? What were you talking about -- little girl, lots of blood," he reminded her. He’d thought about her comment all the way to the hospital and wondered if it had anything to do with him or with Erica.
    "That wasn’t about you," she said quickly. "I’m sorry if you thought it was."
    "So who was the little girl?"
    "It doesn’t matter."
    "It was you, right?"
    "Yes. It was a long time ago, but some memories don’t go away."
    "What happened?"
    "I don’t want to talk about it," she said with a dismissive shake of her head.
    "But --"
    "No buts," she interrupted. "You like to do that -- turn the attention away from your own life, but you can’t this time."
    "Hey, according to you, our lives are now intertwined. Which brings me back to the vision you had a few weeks ago. What else did you see?"
    "I’ve already told you what I saw."
    "Have you?" he challenged. "I remember that night you read my tea leaves. You were gung ho to tell me my fortune and then you suddenly wanted to stop. Why?"
    "It was the colors that surrounded us -- dark red like blood, black like death."
    Her dramatic words put his nerves back on edge. "So, you saw blood and death in my future, and you didn’t think it might be a good idea to stick around when Erica approached me last night?" he asked.
    A flash of anger lit Catherine’s eyes. "What do you want from me, Dylan? Do you want me to say I made the premonition up? I can do that. I can tell a lie. You’re not the first person in my life to make fun of my visions. I gave up trying to convince people a long time ago. I don’t really give a damn what you think. And actually I just came down here to say good-bye. I’ve decided to go home and get on with my life."
    She bristled with indignation, her entire body tense, her eyes fiery, her cheeks flushed with red. She was beautiful, and she was pissed. He knew she was two seconds away from walking out the door, and he couldn’t let her