When a highly logical detective must rely on a reluctant psychic to solve a series of murders, no one can foresee the outcome.
Zoe has spent her adult life denying her psychic abilities. All that changes when she finds herself conversing with a tiny man only she can see and seeing details to a murder that only the murderer should know. Can she convince the annoyingly handsome detective that she was sent to help before he convicts her of the crime? Will she learn to trust herself —and her own heart—before more people are hurt? Or will the detective be the murderer’s next victim?
Zoe knew it was up to her. She struggled to reconcile two divergent desires: to wrap her arms around him and pull him close, or to run away like a scared rabbit and hide beneath her down comforter until he went away. Amazingly, a solution presented itself.
“Look, you can check my alibi with my aunt… her last name is Thackery. She’ll be home – at 1223 Zenith – later this afternoon. Then, once you’re convinced of my innocence in this nightmare, perhaps we can arrive at a strategy to work together and catch this monster before he murders again.”
He scribbled the information down on a notepad and shoved it back into his pocket. “Sarona…is she as unusual as her name?”
“Well, she gives psychic readings for a living. Would you classify that as unusual?” She knew the second she said it how ridiculous it sounded.
True to form, he groaned openly. “Terrific. Being bonkers runs in the family.”
Zoe’s see-sawing emotions took over. “I am not bonkers, Lieutenant Andrews, and neither is my aunt. She is quite possibly the wisest, gentlest, and sanest person I’ve ever known.”
“Coming from you, that’s not really saying much, now is it? Most sane people I know don’t have dreams or visions,” he said in a sneering tone, “or whatever you want to call them – that come true.”
Zoe stood up, every inch of her taut 5’2” frame aquiver with indignation. She pointed toward the door. “Out!”
Ted stormed out and slammed the door behind him, leaving Zoe with one clear resolve: it would be a cold day in hell before she’d let him set foot in her house again.