I removed my shoes—a lesson from my mother embedded deep enough to be instinct—then headed for the tiny kitchenette. I learned only that someone liked Cheerios and someone preferred Froot Loops, and I could probably guess who was who. With a smile, I moved toward the bedroom. As I entered the hall, I stepped on a wet patch of carpet.

I turned toward the open bathroom door. The light was on, and a towel on the floor. I’ve been known to drop and leave towels, my mother’s lessons being less concerned with housekeeping than etiquette. But there was water on the floor, trailing into the hall, suggesting whoever got out of the shower hadn’t toweled off.

I heard the steady trickle of water, the shower dripping fast. Clothing was draped over the closed toilet—

Jaz’s from earlier. I picked up the towel. Dry and haphazardly folded. Unused. Someone jumping out of the shower, leaving the bathroom dripping wet and—

And what?

I closed my eyes and concentrated. No visions popped up. As I opened my eyes, I looked at the counter, and saw Jaz’s wallet, with his keys, cell phone and a scattering of coins. Emptying his pockets before he took off his pants.

I opened up the wallet. Jaz’s driver’s license, a few frequent customer cards, three twenties, a ten and two fives.

Where would Jaz go in such a hurry, without his cell phone, keys and wallet?

I fought the rising panic. This was Jaz—impetuous Jaz. Sonny could have called him, he hopped from the shower, talked to Sonny, said “dry enough,” dressed and went out for a bite to eat, trusting Sonny to have a phone and wallet.

“Faith?”

Guy walked into the bathroom, holding a cell phone and a set of keys. “I found these under Sonny’s jacket.”

I stared at the keys. “But the front door was locked, right?”

“It was.”

We both headed for the patio door. It had looked closed, but now we could see that it wasn’t shut far enough to lock, as if someone had haphazardly pulled it shut behind him.

I looked outside. The sun had been down for over an hour now. Risky for a balcony break-in, but not impossible.

I glanced at Guy. “The money. Their share from last night—”

“After last time, they left it in the safe. They each took a couple hundred.”

Jaz had eighty dollars in his abandoned wallet, which meant—after lunch and cab rides—nothing was missing. Had someone broken in looking for more money? But who would know we’d pulled the job? I hadn’t told Benicio. A mole in the gang…besides me? Not impossible. But why not wait until the guys were gone on tonight’s break-in? Unless the robbery was less important than the message.

And that message was…?

I looked around the empty apartment and tried to rein in my galloping heart. No visions plus no vibes equals no chaos. I calmed myself with this mantra and set about helping Guy search.

Despite outward appearances, the place had been ransacked. The intruders had been careful to stuff things back in the drawers and close them, but it only took one glance inside to know someone had been hunting for something. The money? Maybe.

When we finished, I did a more thorough chaos reading. I did pick up snatches of visions, but when they came clear, I realized they were old images, from other tenants—a child being beaten, a date being raped. Images that would sneak back from my subconscious to torment me later, the thrill of chaos set against a backdrop of horror, a setting for sleepless, soul-searching nights.

For now, I had to concentrate on Jaz and Sonny, and none of my visions featured them.

“Maybe it’s not chaotic enough for me to pick up,” I said. “Maybe there’s a…logical explanation.”

We both fell silent, knowing how unlikely that was.

“The break-in is off, obviously,” Guy said finally. “So you have a free night. I’ll go back to the club, in case they show up.”

“Can I help?”

“Go home and try to relax. With any luck, Jaz will call you. If not, we’ll come back tomorrow, see if you can pick up any traces once you get some distance.”

HOPE: BONUS POINTS

I left the apartment in such a daze that I was climbing into a cab before I noticed a dark Lexus idling down the block. Karl. Not hiding, just staying away so Guy wouldn’t notice him.

Protecting me, as was his job. He could have asked me for the address instead of following my GPS signal.

I knew why he hadn’t. However much it made sense to have backup, I’d have argued.

I felt a twinge of guilt. He’d had a point earlier. I never called him—not for help, advice or just to say hello.

Part of it was fear of relying on someone. Fear of needing someone. After my powers appeared, I’d struggled for years, off-balance, self-reliance gone. And so many people had failed me, nearly everyone except my family, who’d stood by, in pain, watching me suffer. When I found my balance, part of me had to prove I could stand alone…and part of me feared ever again relying on anyone to catch me if I stumbled.

With Karl, that need was coupled with my determination never to be just another woman who’d fallen for him. I’d wanted to be different, so I’d gone completely the other way, acting as if he could walk away tomorrow and I wouldn’t care. Surprising that he hadn’t said “screw this” and left.

Or, I suppose, that’s exactly what he’d done…

THOUGHTS OF KARL kept me distracted until we met up at the apartment. Then I had to tell him everything, which ignited the fears I’d tamped down so well. By the end my hands were shaking, and I stuffed them into my jean pockets so Karl wouldn’t see. There was nothing I could do about my quavering voice.

“It’s probably just a misunderstanding,” I said. “Right now, they might be strolling into the club, ready for duty. I’ve left my condo without my cell phone and wallet—when I’m running out to the corner store or the coffee shop. There’s nothing to say they don’t have another set of keys.”

“We should notify Lucas.”

“Why?” My voice squeaked and I cleared my throat. “I’d sound as if I was overreacting.”

I moved to the sofa, grabbing every support along the route.

Something had happened to Jaz.

I dropped onto the sofa, one hand clutching the arm as though I might slide off.