Ten

“Get down!” Rand shouted to Echo, her eyes round and filled with raw terror. A shiver of alarm ripped through him.

A flash on the hill behind the house and another bullet sinking into the desk caused him to dig his heels into the floor, giving him a monumental thrust to dive over the desk, and grab Echo, pulling her to the floor with him behind protective cover.

He felt Echo’s heart pounding under his chest. The only shelter in the room was the huge desk.

“Why is someone trying to kill us?” Echo screeched.

Rand’s throat was tight when he swallowed. He shook his head. Thank God Echo’s desk protected them.

“Are you all right?” he asked, rolling his body off hers. Thankfully, she moved her arms as she raised herself on an elbow.

“I-I think so.” When she raised her eyes to look at him, he expected to see terror, sobbing—the typical hysterical woman—but what he found amazed him. Fury snapped in Echo’s emerald eyes.

Rolling onto her side, she pushed herself into a sitting position, then leaned around the desk to look out into her office.

“Just look at this mess,” she snapped, turning her head back to look at him, and stood. “Why, Rand? Why was someone shooting at us?”

Pulling her back under the desk, Rand thought, Not us—me. “Stay down! We don’t know if he’s still out there.” In his gut, he knew it was Paul. The man wanted him dead. His death would guarantee Paul’s sole ownership of the ranch. The only question in Rand’s mind was—why did Paul want the ranch bad enough to kill him?

“What the hell’s happenin’ in here?” Jerrica yelled as she threw open the office door.

“Get down!” Echo screamed.

Jerrica moved from in the doorway.

“Don’t come in here! Someone’s shooting at us. Call the police. Now!” Rand slid his cell phone across the floor to her.

Taking a deep breath, Rand braced himself, prepared to act. He stood.

Nothing happened. No shots fired.

Echo stood wobbling against him. Guiding her to the doorway where Jerrica had disappeared, Rand placed her hands on the doorjamb so she could support herself.

“Stay here until the police arrive,” he ordered, turning back toward the shattered window.

“Rand! No! Where are you going? You might get yourself killed,” she cried.

“I have the best chance of catching him. He’ll be long gone by the time the police arrive.” He stepped through the door onto the terrace, careful not to cut himself on the dangerous shards of glass that reminded him of the snaggle-toothed jack-o'-lanterns he had carved as a child.

Scanning the back of the property, he saw a gate leading away from the garden. Rand crouched low and moved toward an old tree, using its circumference to shield his body. The shooter might still be on the hill, just waiting to see if he moved.

Rand edged up the steep grade, creeping from one tree to the next. His lungs were on fire from the exertion of the climb. As he stopped to catch his breath, he heard a rock sliding behind him and he whirled around, nearly losing his footing.

Echo’s head popped over the top of a bush.

“Echo! I told you to stay back at the hotel.” His heart plummeted sickeningly. “If I’d had a gun, I could have killed you!”

Her posture stiffened. “Oh!” Biting down on her lip to stop its quivering, she uttered softly, “I hadn’t thought of that.”

He turned away, scanning the area.

“Hey! You’re not the only one shot at. I want the creep who shot up my office in jail!”

He studied her face, forcing back a smile. Here, amid all this danger, the outrage on her face appealed to him. He reached out, grasping her small hand in his. “We’re not safe out in the open like this. Come on.”

He pulled her along toward a formation of rocks while scanning trees in front of them as they rushed toward safety. He wouldn’t breathe easily until he had searched the entire hill for the shooter. For Paul.

Echo dug the heels of her soft leather moccasins into the gravely soil. “Wait a minute. I c-can’t go any further. My whole body is shaking!” She dropped onto her denim-clad knees. “Someone just tried to murder us.” Her voice was a whisper of despair as the reality of what had happened hit her.

“Ya think?” Rand joined her on the ground. Taking her in his arms, he rocked her back and forth, trying to fill her with his strength, but he had little to give. She raised her face to his, her lips trembling. His head, as if magnetically drawn to hers, drifted toward her. He could feel her breath on his face, and her flowery fragrance swirled through his senses enticingly. Her lips parted for the kiss, and his mouth captured her soft, sweet flavor. He forgot his own name, his sister’s tragic death, and most of all, the reason they were both on this hill.

Her arms encircled him as she fitted herself against his body. All of his blood seemed to drain to his groin. An electrifying surge of pure need seared him. Rand kissed her slowly and thoroughly, exploring the deep secrets of desire Echo held within her.

Nearly being killed must have destroyed his mind. The soft trill of a meadowlark broke through the intoxicating sweetness of their kiss, and Rand twisted his head to the side, releasing Echo’s soft, sensual lips. “Echo? What are we doing?

“I-I’ve wanted you to kiss me for the longest time, ever since the first day you checked in to the hotel.”

He cupped her chin, tipping her head to look into her eyes...eyes shining with yearning. “We sure picked a strange time to act on our desire.” Rand rocked back on his heels and stood, pulling Echo up from the ground.

Police sirens filled the air as he saw something glistening near the base of the rock formation. Dropping Echo’s hand, he walked over and knelt in the dirt. Shell casings. This is where the shots had been fired. Looking down the hill, he could see directly into Echo’s office.

~ * ~

“SEE, MAGNOLIA?” JEWEL screamed. “I told you she could end up dead like us!”

All the spirits entered Echo’s office moments after the shots.

“Well, girls, we have to get this show on the road before both of them get their asses killed,” Miss Fire declared.

“I don’t mean to argue with you, honey, but where is this show you’re speakin’ of?” Magnolia asked in exasperation.

“Yes, Fire, I’d like to know as well,” Lolly offered. “This is going from bad to worse!”

Facing the others, Miss Fire placed her hands on her hips. “The only way to keep Echo safe is to make sure Rand is with her. There is a strong attraction between those two—”

“You mean we’re going to arrange some carrying-on?” Jewel’s eyes grew wide.

“That’s what I mean,” Miss Fire announced as a wide smile displayed a row of pearly whites.

~ * ~

ECHO JUGGLED AN ENORMOUS glass of lemon-edged iced tea across the dining room without spilling a drop on the expensive carpet.

Opening the door to the patio just wide enough to slip through it, she made her way to the lounge chairs tucked into the deepest shadows. The gunman surely couldn’t find her there if she kept the lights off.

Setting the tea glass on the small table beside the lounge chair, she wearily dropped onto the cushion. She stretched, stifling a fatigued yawn. The nights of sleeplessness were catching up with her. Her eyes drifted shut, but as soon as they closed, she snapped them open again. Fear screamed through her body. No. She couldn’t black out, and she refused to let strange visions rob her of her soul.

She had given so much of herself to that rotten relationship with James, and now, just when she was finding her own strength, these horrible things had started happening.

Rand. The man made her turn to jelly. When he bolted up the hill looking like James Bond, she quivered with lust. Maybe it was the threat of getting killed heightening her senses, but she’d enjoyed it.

Her ex-husband had never caused her to feel so giddy or out of control. She shuddered. Comparing Rand to Jimmy was an unfair match. Rand possessed every positive characteristic her ex lacked.

Sheer determination kept her from dozing and slipping into the black hole stretching out before her. It called to her, encouraging her to slip inside—to let the numbness sweep away the fear.

Sleep had nearly overcome her when she heard metal against metal as the door latched in its frame. She smiled and spoke into the dark. “Hi, Alexis.”

“How did you know I was here?” The woman asked as she moved across the terrace.

“Come on out and sit with me.” Echo pointed toward a lounge chair beside her. “Get yourself something to drink? I might need your company for a long time tonight.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

Echo sighed. “I can always tell your step. Been able to since we were kids.”

“Well, that explains a lot.” Alexis laughed. The thick cushion made a soft noise as the air rushed out through the soft batting when she stretched out on the lounge chair.

“What are you doing out here alone, anyway?”

Turning to face Alexis, Echo said, “If someone wants to shoot me, they can find me whenever they want. You can’t protect me from him any more than you could have saved me from James.”

“I could have tried.” Alexis’s voice, a whisper, sounded painfully tired. “But you wouldn’t have listened to me then, either.”

Chuckling softly, Echo said, “You’re right. I was so in love with James I couldn’t see the relationship was going too fast or that I would get lost in it.”

Neither of the women spoke for a few minutes. Echo listened to the breeze moving through the trees. It was a comforting sound. She wore shorts and a T-shirt, and the breeze brushed against her bare legs. The heat of the day had lifted, and the cool night air eased the dread that had surrounded her all afternoon.

“Where are the girls?” Echo asked, pulling herself into a sitting position.

“Mom felt up to it, so she and Dad took them for the night. I’m sure they’re happy to have a break from me. Besides, my parents spoil them rotten, you know.”

Echo stood nervously pacing across the rock deck. Her black hair brushed against the waistband of her shorts, swaying with her every step. The more she paced, the deeper her anxiety reached into her soul. Echo needed to tell someone about what was happening to her before she exploded.

Yes, you need to tell her about me. Alexis will understand. Maybe she can help us.

Echo’s head snapped around, looking for the source of the voice. Where had it come from? Her stomach flipped uncomfortably. Deep down, she knew. God help her, she knew. It was Ann. Ann wanted someone to find her killer. Who better than her long-time friend? “Lex, I think Paul McGuire is trying to kill me.”

Echo couldn’t see the expression on her friend's face, but she heard the quick gasp and the dismay in her voice. “Paul? You’ve got to be kidding.”

Echo spun around to face her friend. “No, I’m not joking. I’m dead serious. I know too much about his wife’s death.”

“Dear God, you really think Paul had something to do with her drowning, don’t you?” Alexis asked quietly.

Kneeling in front of Alexis, Echo took her hands in her own. How could she tell her what she had witnessed when Paul McGuire touched her hand? That had been her intention. Now she was thinking better of the idea. Alexis wasn’t ready to hear the details.

“What do you mean, you know too much about Ann’s death? What do you know? And why haven’t you told me about this?” Alexis continued, her voice rising with each question. Sitting on the lounge in the dark, she stared at Echo as if she’d grown horns and sprouted wings. The night sounds sharpened: frogs croaked in the distance, an owl hooted from his perch in a tree high on the hill, and a train whistled mournfully in the distance.

Echo squeezed Alexis’ hands as she finally said, “I know nothing for sure, Lex.” Alexis shook her head and shrugged. “It’s just a feeling I have. I don’t know how to explain it to you.”

“Why don’t you tell me what you think you know?” Alexis asked.

Echo couldn’t answer. The silence dragged on.

“No, I don’t really have much to go on. Forget I said anything. Let’s change the subject,” Echo said.

Making a soft breathy noise at the back of her throat that sounded somewhat like a sigh, Alexis said, “To what? The shooting? That strand of conversation will just bring us right back to where we are at this very moment.”

Echo stood again. “What would you think about discussing whether I should take the advocate training?”

“Sure, why not? That way we can go back to James’ death.”

Alexis’ words irritated Echo. In a small voice, she said, “I know things are strange right now with everything going on, but you seem annoyed with me tonight. What did I do?”

Reaching for her tea, Alexis said, “If you really want to know, I am angry with you. Someone tried to kill you today—and I find you alone, out here in the dark. Do you have a death wish or something?”

Echo looked up into the trees as a light came on in one of the rooms, bouncing the beam against the branches and leaves, forming beautiful patterns on the terrace. Echo didn’t totally believe her friend. Something else was bugging her. “Okay, let me have it all. What is the real reason you’re angry with me?”

Leaning back into the lounge chair, Alexis touched the dewy glass to her forehead before answering. She lowered the glass and wiped the moisture across her lips. “Since you know me so well, would it surprise you to know I’m just a bit jealous of your relationship with Randall Halstead?”

Alexis’ lonely life flashed before Echo’s eyes. Her friend rarely dated. In fact, she had a nonexistent social life. “What makes you think I have a relationship with Rand?”

“That’s an easy question to answer. I saw you in his arms, and the way he looks at you makes...makes me feel so alone!”

How had Rand looked at her, Echo wondered. Why hadn’t she noticed? “I-I didn’t know. Please, Lex, I’m not trying to hurt you, really I’m not.”

“Let me finish.” Alexis sharply enunciated each word, and her tone was harsh and bitter. “It’s not just Randall. Look around you. You have this great business and I work for you. You’ve made such a success of your life. Mine? It’s going nowhere.”

Her dearest friend’s words sent shock waves through Echo. The pain squeezed and twisted in her chest. “Alexis! I would never consider your life dull. You have the girls and...”

“No one to love.” Taking out a cigarette package, Alexis shook out a cigarette, put it to her lips and lit it. Breathing in a large quantity of smoke, she held it for a moment, then blew a mouthful of smoke into the air. Alexis sat quietly as she smoked.

“Do you think Rand is wrong for me?” Echo asked.

“Echo! That’s not what this is about. I want you to answer my question. What do you know about Ann’s death?” Alexis’ question brought them back to the subject they both had been trying to ignore.

Collapsing on the lounge chair, Echo caught her head in her hands, sending her long hair flying around her. “Oh, Lex...the only thing I know is, Randall thinks Paul killed her.”

“From what I’ve seen when I’ve been around Paul, he’s totally devastated. Why does Randall think this?”

Dragging her forearm over her head, Echo tossed the heavy hair out of her face. “I don’t know...you’ll have to speak to him. He just feels that way.”

“You’re making no sense at all. I think the shooting has you more shaken than you realize. By the way, it’s too fast, sweetie. Remember how it was with James?”

Echo turned to look at her friend. “What?” she asked, confused at the turn of the conversation.

Alexis chuckled. “You asked my opinion about Rand.”

“Oh, yeah. I’d nearly forgotten.” Fishing an ice cube from her glass, Echo popped it into her mouth. “I, uh—” She took the ice out of her mouth and finished her thought. “Rand is so different from James. Lex, yesterday I stopped at the domestic violence office, and they gave me a book. I read it and you know, the night James died—it really wasn’t my fault. He just knew which of my buttons to push.”

“Finally!” Alexis cried. Rushing to Echo’s side, she threw her arms around her. “I didn’t think you would ever get over this. You didn’t kill James. He hit you and you struck him back because you were getting emotionally stronger and wouldn’t put up with his abuse.”

~ * ~

RAND PROPPED HIS FEET up on the ledge surrounding the deck off his room. The guest house abutted the main house and deck from his bedroom poked out above the patio below. If Echo and Alexis knew he was above them while they talked, they’d be angry and hurt.

Watching the approaching storm in the western sky, he felt a tingle of anticipation. There wasn’t anything better for his mood than a thunderstorm. Maybe it was all the electricity in the atmosphere, filling his soul with energy. Whatever caused it was a mystery to him. Tonight, another mystery had solved itself. The melancholia he noticed in Echo was real and, faced with this added information about her husband, understandable. She thought she had killed the man. He shuddered. What a horrible guilt to carry around.

He understood how she thought because he felt the same way about Ann’s death. He knew Paul was a very controlling person, but he didn’t realize Ann was in any danger. He had been wrong, and it cost Ann her life. If only he had known what to do. Maybe he should sign up for the advocate training. The next time he suspected a domestic assault, he would know what to say, even if it was a dangerous thing to do. It would feel better than the guilt.

~ * ~

ECHO TOSSED AND TURNED, willing sleep to find her. Then suddenly, she felt herself drift. A sickening thought hit her, causing her heart to begin an erratic, frantic pounding behind her breastbone. Paul McGuire’s wife, Ann, had died in a tragic diving accident in Hawaii! Were the visions she had experienced the last moments of Ann McGuire’s life? This couldn’t be happening—could it? A sinking feeling in the depths of her soul told her the truth. She knew that somehow, God help her, she was witnessing the scene through someone else’s eyes—Ann McGuire’s eyes.

Suddenly, her mind put things into logical order. Her eyes flew open, and she peered about the dark room. Her mind filled with the sounds of voices and sensations that refused to register completely. Where was she? Nothing looked familiar. Her eyelids fell shut. She’d depleted the energy it took to keep them open.

The soft sound of air whispered regularly and quietly at the back of the deafening bedlam. She concentrated on that sound, causing the voices to recede. The frantic, panicky agitation in the center of her chest eased. A sound, crisp and bell-like, rang through her senses. What a relaxing note.

Thump, whoosh.

Suddenly it became deafening, rushing toward her like a freight train rounding a bend—heading straight for her.

Thump, whoosh.

Thump, whoosh.

Louder and louder. Faster and faster.

Quickly, it screamed through her mind, then receded as it passed over her, leaving her weak and trembling. Was that the sound of her heart and lungs beating rhythmically? She listened intently, but the sound was gone.

Ann’s foot twitched, then the muscles in the back of her thighs joined the macabre dance. Her legs lay against something, and the touch was delightful one moment, but unbearably painful the next. Hot splinters of agony dug into her sensitive flesh.

Her muscles refused to obey her commands as she tried to move away from the pain. She found concentrating on her fingers worked, and she willed them to contract. She painfully balled her hands into fists. At least something worked.

With this gained confidence, she tried turning her head. It only moved slightly, but her face swarmed with the feeling of spider webs. The tickling threads covered her eyes, following the contour of her lips and cheeks, filling her nostrils with each breath.

Concentrating with all her might, she raised her hand to swipe the webs from her face. Hair! Why was hair in her face? Her short, cropped hair stayed out of her way. Where had the long hair come from? Her hand fell from her face. It dropped against a mattress and bounced slowly from the impact.

Sighing, she relaxed. So. She was in bed. How had that happened? The last thing she remembered was...

She groped for memories of her life, but her mind was useless, a complete blank. Again, she opened her eyes, this time without too much effort. As they focused, she looked around the room again.

A mirrored dresser stood against the far wall. A table with a floral skirt that matched the draperies was positioned beside the bed. She didn’t know where this room was located, but she wanted out of here. Now!

Clenching her jaw, she summoned strength and moved her legs over the side of the bed. She had to move, had to run. Paul would get her if she tarried here too long. With shaky hands, she pushed herself into a sitting position. The room spun around.

Something wasn’t right. She looked down at her herself. Naked! She never slept this way. Where was her long T-shirt? Confusion spun her mind in circles. Then the memories struck, knocking her backward, petrifying her to the core. No, this couldn’t be happening. She was dead, wasn’t she? Why was she here? She pushed herself up again, stilling the waves of nausea assaulting her stomach.

Taking a deep breath, she stood. This strange body was difficult to navigate. Where she was tall and thin, this body was smaller, rounder. Edging her way to the mirror, she looked down at the small feet and perfectly formed toes. She had always wanted feet like this, but—not this way! The mirror. She had to see what she looked like.

A small lamp nestled among the jewelry boxes and picture frames spreading over the top of the dresser. Reaching out, she switched on the lamp. A soft glow lit the room. She was afraid to look in the mirror, knowing she wouldn’t see blonde hair, golden brown eyes, and that ever-present scar at the corner of her right eye. She had gotten it ice-skating when Randall tried to navigate a spin, holding her over his head. They had both fallen, but she landed on his skate. It had taken reconstructive surgery to conceal the gouge.

It was now or never—she looked up into the glass. She expected shock, but nothing prepared her for the feeling of terror and sadness when she stared at the stranger in the mirror.

Ann smiled, and the stranger smiled back at her. So, this was Echo. No wonder her brother loved the woman. She was a beauty. She would make Randall so happy. But she was in Echo’s body. She shuddered.

Dismay permeated her soul—the only part of her being that she recognized. The person staring back at her in the mirror had a soft, peachy complexion, long, black hair with thick bangs. And her eyes! Such an odd color—nearly aqua. They widened with shock as she took in the rest of this body. Full breasts accentuated a narrow waist and rounded hips—something she’d never had on her thin, athletic body.

She grasped the thick hair in her hands, pulling until she nearly screamed from the pain. At least she could feel again. But the pain stimulated her memories and wrung grief from her heart.

She wanted her cropped blonde hair, her boney arms, and legs. She wanted to live. As the memories popped to the surface of her mind, anger and hatred seared her soul.

Paul, the bastard, had killed her. She remembered floating over her body, watching him smile, and something else.

She stared into the mirror again. Those eyes! Paul’s eyes smiling at her as he pulled the regulator from her mouth. She struggled to free herself, but it was too late.

Just as the strength returned to the body she shared with this stranger, the pounding, surging sound returned.

Her vision faded and the cold returned to capture her. Oh, please, she begged. I want to stay a while longer—please!

Blackness engulfed her, sweeping her back into the void. A place where she could only watch.

~ * ~

ECHO WOKE EARLY. SHE looked at the clock on the table beside the bed and, with a great shove, hopped out of bed. Standing in front of the dresser, she reached for the silver brush that belonged to the set her grandmother had given her upon graduating from high school. As she raised her arm to run the brush through her tangled hair, she noticed the lamp was switched on. How did that happen? she wondered. She’d gone to bed and lay in the darkness thinking about Randall Halstead. He was her last thought before dropping off to sleep.

Echo pressed the black plastic nub and, with a click, turned the light off, sending the room back into darkness. Slipping into her red silky robe, she tied the sash, then walked to the glass door. She pulled the drapery cord and the drapes slid open, exposing the beautiful sunrise streaking the morning sky.

Today, the view didn’t warm her heart as it normally did. She felt slightly distracted—not connected somehow. She moved to the closet and opened it. She had too much to do today to worry about these feelings. But she sure wished she could remember the dream she’d had last night. It fluttered at the edge of her mind.

Echo looked down at her hands. Her fingers felt stiff. The sharp trill of the telephone dragged her from the memory, but she continued stretching her fingers wide and balling them into fists as she rushed across the room to answer the cell phone. As she reached out her hand, blackness engulfed her.

Magnolia screamed. “Lolly, Jewel! Come on! She’s doin’ it again!”

Miss Fire appeared before the others. Taking Echo’s hand, she drew her toward the bed. “Maggie, I don’t think Echo is just lost on the other side. I think that woman has found her and is trying to knock her out of this body so she can take over.”

Jewel and Lolly appeared. Magnolia looked to them, her eyes pleading for help. “I have a bad feelin’ about this, girls.” She looked down at Echo as a tear rolled down her cheek. “A real bad feelin’.”