"Maybe. She's right, though-it's been years. Maybe neither one of us knows Samantha at all now."
"And maybe there's something specific she doesn't want us to know."
Lucas frowned. "Her whole attitude seemed to change once she had that vision. You think she saw something she didn't tell us about?"
"I think I want to touch her belongings and see if I can pick up anything. And I think we've got some long, hard hours ahead of us trying to find Lindsay."
"Yeah." With an effort, Lucas pushed Samantha out of his mind and turned the car back toward town.
Leo spotted Samantha and met her halfway up the mostly deserted midway. "Hey."
"Hey. Did the sheriff arrest anybody, or was Jay able to stop him?"
"Well, between us we managed to convince him he was wasting valuable time here."
"That must have been fun."
"The high point of my day." Leo studied her and said more seriously, "My guess is that your day was even worse."
"I'll have to tell you about it sometime. At the moment, though, I need to see Ellis. Is she around?"
"Yeah, in her caravan. You sick?"
Samantha showed him her palms. "Just a bit dented."
"How the hell'd you do that?"
"Long story. Leo, I want to open my booth tonight."
Both his bushy eyebrows lifted. "You sure? I mean, we've had tons of interest, even with your poster not out on the marquee, but-"
"Put it out, please. My hours tonight will be from seven until. I'll see as many as I can."
"And when the reporters show up asking to speak to you?"
Her smile was wry. "Tell 'em to buy a ticket like everybody else."
"I'll love the publicity," he said frankly, "but are you sure, Sam? What's good for the carnival isn't necessarily good for you, we both know that."
"I'll be fine."
"You look tired already," he pointed out. "After three or four hours of readings, you'll be half dead."
"As long as I'm half alive." Samantha shrugged. "Don't worry about me, Leo. Just pass the word that my booth will be open tonight, please. I'll see you later."
"Hey, try to take a nap or something before tonight, will you?"
"I will," Samantha lied. She continued on past Leo, heading for the line of RVs parked off to one side of the midway and colorful collection of booths, rides, and tents. She knocked on the door of one RV whose protective awning was hung with multiple wind chimes and whirligigs and, when she received a response, went inside.
"How was the voluntary jail time?" Ellis Langford was at least sixty-five but looked twenty years younger, an improbable redhead with a still-head-turning figure. And she dressed to turn heads.
"Bearable," Samantha replied with a shrug.
"Even with Luke Jordan there?"
"Him being there didn't change a thing."
"Don't tell me what you think I want to hear, Sam, tell me the truth."
Samantha grimaced. "Okay, then. It was hell. That's the truth. Half the time I wanted to scream and throw things at him, and the other half…"
"You wanted to find the nearest bed?"
Without replying to that, Samantha thrust out her hands, palms up. "I'm told this is frostnip. What should I do about it?"
Ellis studied her hands, brows rising. "Is the feeling coming back?"
"A bit. Tingling. Sort of an ache."
Ellis went into the kitchen area of her RV and filled a large pot with warm water. Then she returned to the living area and instructed Samantha to sit down and immerse her hands in the water.
Sitting obediently with warm water up to her wrists, Samantha said, "How long do I have to do this?"
"Do you have somewhere else to be?"
"Not immediately. But I want to get my booth ready to open."
Ellis sat down across from Samantha and picked up her knitting. What she was knitting looked rather like a tulip-shaped vase. Samantha didn't ask what it was supposed to be; Ellis was famous for presenting friends with odd knitted things, and Sam already had quite a collection of tea cozies, caps, paperback dustcovers, and various other colorful accessories.
"So you'll be reading tonight?"
"I thought I would."
Needles clicking, her hazel eyes fixed on Samantha, Ellis said, "You think he's coming back, don't you?"
"Maybe you should be the one doing the readings."
"No, I don't have your gift for reading strangers. I read people I know. And I know you. Why do you think he'11 come back here, Sam?"
"Because he likes carnivals well enough to have been here at least twice; much as I love this place, one visit usually satisfies anybody over the age of twelve." With a shrug, she added, "And because he doesn't know about me yet."
"I don't suppose you've mentioned that to Luke."
"It didn't come up."
Ellis shook her head slightly. "Sam, we've had reporters nosing around here the last couple of days. Leo took down your posters, but even so a few photographers got pictures. What if this maniac sees you on the six o'clock news? He'll definitely know about you then."
"I don't think he watches the news. I think he watches Luke."
"Willing to bet your life on that?"
Samantha shrugged again. "The life of a cop I happen to like can be measured now in hours. If Lindsay isn't found by late tomorrow afternoon, she'll be found dead. The other cops are doing their thing. Luke is doing his, or trying to. The only thing I can do is what I can do. Open my booth and do readings, and hope he shows up."
"For a reading? Would he be that reckless?"
"Depends. He might be curious, the way most people are. If I'm for real. If I can sense what he's up to."
"And if you can?"
"Then I'll do my damnedest not to let him know I know while I memorize his face and try to gather all the information I can from him."
"Dangerous."
"Not if I keep my wits about me."
"Even if. And do you really believe he'd leave someone he kidnapped alone while he visits a carnival?"
"Yes." With a frown, Samantha added, "I don't know why I believe that, but I do. If Luke hadn't pulled me out of that car, I might have seen more, heard more, picked up something to tell me who the bastard is."
Reading between the lines-something she was good at-Ellis said, "Ah. So the frostnip is from the steering wheel?"
"Yeah."
"And since Luke pulled you out of the car-"
"I won't pick up anything by touching it a second time, at least not for a while. Somebody explained it to me once. Something about tapping into and releasing electromagnetic energy. It's like static. Touch something metallic once, and you get shocked; touch it again right away and you don't, because the energy's already been discharged. You have to walk around on the carpet in your socks and let the static build up again." She frowned. "Or something like that."
"You don't really care how it works, do you?"
"Not so much. It is what it is."
"Mmm. But you did pick up enough to believe the kidnapper likes carnivals."
Samantha looked down at her hands, absently moving them in the water. "I think he likes games. And right now, we're the only other game in Golden."
"The other one being Catch Me if You Can?"
"I don't think it's even that. I think it's I'm Smarter than You Are."
"Than who is?"
"Luke."
"I hope you told him that, at least."
"I did. He wasn't happy."
"I can imagine. Word is, this kidnapper has more than a dozen victims to his credit, all but one of them dead. If it's all just been a game…"
"Nightmarish, yeah."
"Certainly not easy to live with. Even if it was beyond your control."
Samantha frowned and lifted her hands out of the water. "The water's cooling. And my hands are tingling and itching like crazy."
Ellis put her knitting aside and went to refill the pot with fresh warm water, saying, "Once more, and then you should be okay. Your hands'll probably tingle and itch for a while, though."
Sighing, Samantha plunged her hands back into warm water. "You don't seem surprised that I got frostnipped by a vision," she commented.
"I've seen enough over the years to know that your visions are pretty damned real. So, no, not very surprised. But what was cold in the vision? Where she's being kept?"