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to grapple with the killer for the woman’s sake, to save her life.She struggled desperately to do so, even though she had no arms to reach withhere. No physical presence to fight with. She was only an observer, floatingabove it all, not even able to control where she looked.

She watched as the woman lost herbattle. As she slipped lower and lower toward the floor, unable to lift herselfup. As her eyes rolled back in her head. As she convulsed, the last desperateattempt of the body to gain air for use in the lungs. Then she stopped movingat all, and for a long moment the killer continued to hold her, long past thepoint that the body could still survive.

Laura opened her eyes, gasping forbreath. She tore her hand away from the speaker as if it was burning hot, andclosed out the recording before she heard one more moment of it. She sank downinto the chair waiting behind her, no longer trusting her legs to keep herstanding.

It wasn’t just the shock. The pain andterror of seeing that happen in front of her eyes. It was the pain in her head,washing over her now in terrible waves. The vision she had seen—it had been oneof the most powerful she’d had in a long while, despite the edges being sofuzzy.

And it had been one of the most terriblefor a long while, too. The visceral nature of it, the way it had been sodetailed and close. She couldn’t stop seeing the woman’s eyes, straining andbulging for air, desperate and afraid. Laura closed her own eyes to hold thetears in, trying to keep control.

There had been something else, too. Thatsame déjà vu washing over her. The feeling that she had been there before, andnot just in the sense of having seen the same vision in a more fragmented wayearlier. No, something about the setting, the woman. Even though most of theroom was obscured from her, Laura felt as though it was somewhere she had beenbefore.

But they were still in Albany. And Laurastill hadn’t been to this city in her life until now. None of it made anysense.

And when it came down to it, what hadshe seen? Laura knew the woman by sight now, but that wasn’t useful at all. Thepower of the headache told her that what she had seen was happening imminently.It could be happening right at this moment. That meant there was no time tosave the woman. It would have been difficult even if Laura knew who she was,where she lived. And she hadn’t seen the killer. Not even his hands, which werebehind the woman’s neck as he pulled the dish towel tight. Her own dish towel,no doubt.

It gave her nothing to go on. She’d gonethrough all of that, forced herself to watch, triggered this horrible pain, andfor nothing.

Her eyes flew open when the door did,jolting her out of her own thoughts as she attempted to plaster on a blankexpression. It was pointless. Even the motion of lifting her head like thatsent dizzy waves of pain through her.

“What was that?” Nate demanded, enteringthe room and walking right up to her. “You just walked out on me.”

“I’m sorry,” Laura said, nursing herhead. “I… I just. I don’t know. I just had this migraine or something come on.”

“Are you all right?” Nate asked,squinting at her. A look of concern fell over his face, transforming him fromthe man who could easily come across as the Bad Cop to a worried friend. Hesquatted down beside her chair so he could look up into her face. “You’re verypale. And you’re sweating. Are you coming down with the flu or something?”

“I, um.” Laura shook her head. The painthat flowed through her immediately took away her reasoning for a moment. “Idon’t know. I just got… ha. I don’t know. Maybe it’s an overnight thing.”

“You’ve been peaky the whole day,” Natesaid, worry creasing a deep frown between his eyes. “At the kidnapping, too. Ithought you were just exhausted from the chase, but—you haven’t been well for awhile.”

“No, no, it’s just been tiredness, likeyou said,” Laura replied, waving her hand. She forced herself to smile and tohold her head upright, even though the throbbing was making her feel sick. “Honestly.I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.”

“We going to the motel?” Nate asked. “Iknow I’d do good on a couple hours’ more sleep, at least.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Laura said. But evenas she agreed and stood up, reaching for her jacket, she had no faith that shewould be getting her head down tonight.

She only had a short while to waitbefore someone found the body of the dead woman and called it in. Enough timeto dose up on painkillers, and not much more, she would bet. Neither of themwould be getting much rest.

And with the face of the dying womanreplaying behind her eyelids at every step she took, Laura knew she wasn’tgoing to be able to rest properly at all until she caught this killer.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Laura shoved her hands into the pocketsof her jacket as she walked, trying to keep the pace brisk. The longer shelingered in any one spot, the higher the possibility that she would wind upleading herself right into a vision, and she couldn’t afford to see anythingthat didn’t affect the case right now.

Of course, there was also thepossibility that walking this fast would put her into the path of someone elseand trigger a vision anyway, but Laura could hope.

She didn’t know where she was going andbarely remembered how far she had walked already, but she was stuck in a cyclein her mind that she couldn’t seem to break. First, she would try not to thinkof anything at all. To clear her mind. Instead, she would end up seeing theface of the poor dying woman from her vision, the woman she knew would bekilled tonight.

And she would think about that woman,helpless and alone right now, maybe even dying right now. Or lying alreadydead, waiting for someone to find her. And Laura would feel sick to herstomach, and powerless, and she

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