The Missing Twin. Rita Herron

      Earthy in his book meant sexy. Lethal combinations to a man who had been celibate for the past three years.

      Dammit. He hadn’t been attracted to another woman since Mara. He sure as hell didn’t want to be attracted to a client. Not one with a kid who claimed to see her dead sister.

      Then his gaze fell to the little blonde munchkin, and his lungs tightened. She looked tiny and frail and terrified and so lost that his protective instincts kicked in.

      “Ms. Andrews,” Gage began. “This is Caleb Walker. He’s one of our agents at GAI. I’d like for him to hear your story.”

      The woman squared her shoulders as if anticipating a confrontation. She expected skepticism.

      “You can call me Madelyn,” she said in a husky voice that sounded as if it was laced with whiskey.

      Gage claimed the love seat, leaving the other wing chair nearest Madelyn for him. Caleb lowered himself into it, aware his size might intimidate the little girl.

      “What’s your name?” he asked in a gentle tone.

      Eyes that mirrored her mother’s stared up at him as if she was trying to decide if he was friend or foe. Smart kid. She should be wary of strangers.

      He smiled slowly, trying to ease her discomfort. But his senses prickled, suggesting she was special in some way. That she possessed a sixth sense herself.

      Not that he would wish that on anyone, especially a kid.

      “Let’s see,” he said, a smile quirking his mouth. “Are you Little Miss Sunshine?”

      A tiny smile lit her eyes, and she relaxed slightly and loosened her grip on her blanket. “No, silly. I’m Sara.”

      “Hi, Sara,” he said gruffly. “That’s a pretty name.”

      “Thank you,” she said, her tone sounding grown up for such a little bitty thing. “It’s my Gran’s middle name.”

      “Okay, Sara. Tell me what’s going on so I can help you.”

      Madelyn stroked her daughter’s hair. “Sara’s been having nightmares for the past two months, ever since we moved back to town.”

      “Where are you from?” Caleb asked, probing for background information.

      Madelyn hugged Sara closer. “We moved to Charlotte four years ago to be near my mom, but Sara was born in Sanctuary. Recently my mother suffered a stroke, and I found a nursing facility here that she liked, so I bought the craft shop in town, and we packed up and moved back.”

      “I see,” Caleb said. Had the move triggered these nightmares? “Sara, did you have dreams of your sister when you lived in Charlotte?”

      Sara nodded and twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “We talked and sang songs and told secrets.”

      Caleb narrowed his eyes. “What kinds of secrets?”

      Sara pursed her mouth. “They’re not secrets if I tell.”

      Hmm. She was loyal to her sister. But those secrets might be important.

      “She has dreamed about her twin all her life,” Madelyn confirmed. “But lately those dreams have been disturbing.”

      Sara piped up. “Her name is Cissy, and she looks just like me.”

      Caleb nodded, aware that she used the present tense. “Sara and Cissy. How old are you?”

      “Five,” Sara said and held up five fingers. “Cissy’s five, too.”

      He smiled again. “You’re identical twins?”

      She swung her feet. “Yep, ’cept I gots a birthmark on my right arm and hers is on the other side.” She pointed to a small, pale, crescent-moon shape on her forearm.

      Caleb folded his hands. He needed to keep Sara talking. “Tell me what happens in your dreams, Sara.”

      Terror darkened the little girl’s face. “Cissy is scared and she’s screamin’ and she runned into the woods.”

      Damn. He understood about nightmares, how real and haunting they could seem. “Who is she running from?” Caleb asked.

      “From a big, mean man. He screamed at her mommy,” Sara said with conviction. “Cissy says he’s gonna kill them.”

      Caleb intentionally lowered his voice. “Can you see his face? Does she call him by name?”

      Sara chewed on her thumb for a moment as if trying to picture the man in her mind. “No, I can’t see him.” Her voice rose with anxiety. “But I saw Cissy running and crying.”

      Caleb clenched his hands, listening, hating the terror in the little girl’s voice. The last thing he wanted to do was traumatize a troubled child by doubting her or confirming her fears. And she was genuinely afraid and believed what she was telling him.

      His sixth sense kicked in. This little girl was…different. Did she truly have a psychic connection to her twin?

      Other questions bombarded him: If her sister was dead, was Sara seeing and conversing with her spirit? Was Sara a medium? If so, why was she seeing images of Cissy at the same age as herself instead of the infant she’d been when she died? Was Cissy’s growth a figment of Sara’s imagination?

      Another theory rattled through his head. Or could Sara be experiencing premonitions? Could Cissy’s spirit be trying to warn Sara that Sara was in danger from some future attacker?

      “You’re a brave girl,” Caleb said, then patted Sara’s arm. “And if you see anything else—the man’s face, or the mommy’s—I want you to tell me. Okay?”

      Sara bobbed her little head up and down, although she looked wrung out now, as if relaying her nightmare had drained her. Or maybe she was worried that describing the terrifying ordeal might make it come true.

      He lifted his gaze to Madelyn. “Can we talk alone?”

      Her wary gaze flew to his. “I don’t like to leave Sara by herself.”

      Gage retrieved a pad of paper and some crayons and gestured to the coffee table. “It’s okay, Madelyn. I have a little girl, too. Her name is Ruby and she likes to draw when she comes to the office.” He stooped down and handed the crayons to Sara. “Would you like to use Ruby’s crayons to draw a picture of Cissy while Caleb talks to your mother?”

      Sara studied him for a long moment, then nodded. Madelyn reluctantly stood and settled Sara on the floor in front of the coffee table. Caleb gestured to the door, and she led the way out into the hallway.

      The moment he closed the door, she whirled on him, arms crossed. “Listen, Mr. Walker, I know you probably think that Sara is disturbed, and believe me, I’ve taken her to shrinks, consulted with specialists, tried to talk to her myself, but these nightmares keep reoccurring, and there has to be a reason.”

      Caleb shifted. “Did these doctors make a diagnosis?”

      Madelyn sighed, her expression strained. “Oh, yes, lots of them. The first doctor suggested Sara was seeing herself, that the twin was a mirror image. Doctor Number Two implied that she was terrified because she had no father, then suggested she made up the bizarre connection with Cissy to get attention. His colleague indicated Sara might be bipolar and wanted to put her in a special twin study, run a mountain of tests and analyze her brain.” She blew out a breath, sending her bangs fluttering. “The last one suggested she was schizophrenic and advised me to let him prescribe drugs.”

      Caleb frowned. “Did you try medication?”

      “No,” Madelyn said emphatically. “She’s only five years old.” She paced across the hall, her hands knotting in the folds of her skirt. “I really hoped that I could handle it, that if I carried Sara to see Cissy’s grave she’d accept that her sister is gone.”

      “What