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the Special Crimes Unit.
    That should, however, be all he could learn.
    Before she could ask, Leah said, "From the way he talked, I gather he doesn't know what your specialty is. The occult stuff, I mean. Because this one
has
to be occult-related, and he didn't say that was why he wanted you at the scene. Just for your general expertise in investigating crimes. All he knows is that you're an FBI agent working with a unit that uses unorthodox methods to investigate unusual crimes-and this one is definitely unusual."
    "He knows I'm psychic?"
    "He doesn't believe in psychics. But there's an election coming up in the fall, and Jake Ballard wants to be reelected. What he doesn't want is to be accused by the voters of not taking advantage of any possibly helpful source in investigating a brutal murder. An FBI agent staying in the area has to be counted as an excellent source, no matter which unit she belongs to or what extra senses she claims to have." Leah shook her head. "I assumed you two had talked about stuff like that."
    "Why?"
    "Well, it is the normal sort of chitchat for two cops on a date."
    Oh, shit.
    "Then again," Leah continued, clearly oblivious of having delivered a shock, "it seems you ex-army types tend to talk less than the rest of us, at least about your work. I've been sleeping with Gordon for nearly a year now, damn near living with him, and he still won't tell me what wakes him up in a cold sweat some nights."
    "He doesn't want you to know the ugly stuff," Riley murmured. "Things he's seen. Done."
    "Yeah, I get that. Still feels like he's shutting me out of a very big part of his life."
    "Past life. Over and done with. Let it go." Riley forced a smile when the other woman looked at her. "Advice. I know you didn't ask, but I'm offering anyway. The monsters under the bed and in the closet? Leave them be. If he wants to show them to you, he will. But that may not be for a long time. If ever."
    "And it isn't about trust?"
    Riley shook her head. "It's about scars. And about giving them time to fade. Twenty years of scars aren't going to fade in a hurry."
    "If at all."
    "Well, good men tend to hold on to their bad memories. I'd be a lot more worried about him if he
didn't
wake up sometimes in a cold sweat."
    "You know what he's been through," Leah said.
    "Some of it. Not all of it."
    "But they're his stories. He has to be the one to tell me."
    "That's the way it works. Sorry."
    "No, it's okay. I get it."
    Riley thought the other woman probably did get it; she was a cop and even in this small coastal town would likely encounter a few horror stories of her own during the course of her career.
    Starting, possibly, with what she'd seen today.
    A silence fell between the two women. Riley wanted to break it, but there didn't seem to be any good, reasonably casual way to guide the conversation back to her date or dates with the sheriff.
    Dates? Jesus, what on earth had possessed her to do
that
?
    With a reliable source inside the sheriff's department, it didn't seem likely that she'd gone out with him on a fact-finding mission, especially since he knew who and what she was. What he wouldn't confide professionally he wasn't likely to confide personally, not if he was like most of the cops she'd known.
    Was
it personal? Had she set aside the training and preferences of a lifetime to go out with a law-enforcement officer while she was investigating occurrences in his town?
    Investigating, possibly, him?
    What would have compelled her to do something so out of character for her? With her busy life, she barely dated at all, but to date someone during an investigation-
    A sudden, uneasy suspicion surfaced in her mind as she abruptly recalled the fleeting memory of quiet voices and a lingering touch out on the deck of her house.
    Surely she hadn't…surely to God she hadn't gone further than a few casual dates? She hadn't taken a lover. No. No,
that
would be so totally out of character it was unheard-of for her.
    But. What if? In a