no condition to get behind the wheel."
"Jan's right," I said, aware that my own motives were more than a little self-serving. "You passed out cold twice within five minutes. We can't possibly let you go." And definitely not before we got some answers.
"I didn't mean to--" She stopped and regrouped. "What I'm trying to say is this kind of thing happens all the time. I just . . . know things. I'm so sorry I told them about your baby but it's out of my control."
"You also said my daughter would bring danger."
Her already pale skin grew paler still. She opened her hands in a gesture of surrender. "I don't remember saying that."
"Please, Liv," I begged. "You can imagine how I'm feeling right now. Please tell me what kind of danger my daughter brings." I angled my body between her and the exit. "I'm not angry. I just need to know."
"I told you everything I know and now I want to go home."
Bettina stepped forward. "Go an hour without falling on your face and we'll give back your car keys." I stared in astonishment as she dangled them from her forefinger.
"You took her car keys?" Lynette's eyes were wide.
Bettina shrugged. "Somebody had to."
"Wow," Janice said.
Who knew the gentle harpist had it in her?
"What do you people want from me?" Liv demanded, her voice shrill and teetering on the edge of panic. "You can't keep me here against my will."
"We're looking out for your safety, Liv," I said. "If anything happened to you, I'd never forgive myself."
"I'm not sick," she said stubbornly. "Maybe I'm crazy but I'm not sick." With that she burst into noisy tears that tugged at my heartstrings.
Suddenly the air was thick with thought probes. They gleamed silver and gold as they encircled Liv's slender body, forming a glittering corona around her head. Lynette, Janice, and Bettina had silently teamed up and were performing Sugar Maple's version of a Google search. Was Liv pretending not to see them or were they truly invisible to her? And, more important, how were we going to find out without revealing the truth about Sugar Maple?
"She's like a blank slate," Janice said. "I'm not picking up any history at all."
"There must be something." I tried to ignore the latest round of chills racing up my spine.
But Lynette and Bettina came up empty too.
I would have launched my own set of thought probes but I didn't want to do anything that could even remotely harm my baby. Thoughts probes sometimes turned out to be a two-way street.
"She must be magick then," I reasoned. "All humans have histories."
"And so do magicks," Janice parried.
"Keep an eye on things," I said. "I'm going to see what's on her registration form."
Not much, as it turned out, beyond the usual name, address, payment info, and list of workshops requested.
LIV JENSSEN
BOX 411
GRANITE NOTCH NH
A zip code, a New Hampshire phone number, marked paid by money order.
I don't know what I expected to find. We don't ask for references or numbers to call in case of emergency. All we need to know is that you're a knitter or want to become one.
"She passed out again," Lynette said as I re-entered the front of the shop.
I was treated to the now familiar sight of the curvy blond lying splat in the middle of the floor. 'What happened this time?"
"Penelope leaped onto her lap and the second she placed her hand on the cat's fur, she was gone," Lynette offered.
"She picked up Penny's vibes big time," Janice said. "I mean, there were sparks flying everywhere."
"What are we going to do with her?" I asked as we carried her over to the sofa near the hearth. "We can't hold her hostage."
"Well, we can't let her go tonight either," Janice, mother of five, said in full maternal mode. "Not in this condition."
"Maybe we should call someone," Bettina suggested, "and let them know she's here and we're taking care of her."
"Call who?" I asked. "There was nothing on her registration form."
"Family," Bettina said. "Friends. Co-workers. Someone must be waiting for her to come
"Jan's right," I said, aware that my own motives were more than a little self-serving. "You passed out cold twice within five minutes. We can't possibly let you go." And definitely not before we got some answers.
"I didn't mean to--" She stopped and regrouped. "What I'm trying to say is this kind of thing happens all the time. I just . . . know things. I'm so sorry I told them about your baby but it's out of my control."
"You also said my daughter would bring danger."
Her already pale skin grew paler still. She opened her hands in a gesture of surrender. "I don't remember saying that."
"Please, Liv," I begged. "You can imagine how I'm feeling right now. Please tell me what kind of danger my daughter brings." I angled my body between her and the exit. "I'm not angry. I just need to know."
"I told you everything I know and now I want to go home."
Bettina stepped forward. "Go an hour without falling on your face and we'll give back your car keys." I stared in astonishment as she dangled them from her forefinger.
"You took her car keys?" Lynette's eyes were wide.
Bettina shrugged. "Somebody had to."
"Wow," Janice said.
Who knew the gentle harpist had it in her?
"What do you people want from me?" Liv demanded, her voice shrill and teetering on the edge of panic. "You can't keep me here against my will."
"We're looking out for your safety, Liv," I said. "If anything happened to you, I'd never forgive myself."
"I'm not sick," she said stubbornly. "Maybe I'm crazy but I'm not sick." With that she burst into noisy tears that tugged at my heartstrings.
Suddenly the air was thick with thought probes. They gleamed silver and gold as they encircled Liv's slender body, forming a glittering corona around her head. Lynette, Janice, and Bettina had silently teamed up and were performing Sugar Maple's version of a Google search. Was Liv pretending not to see them or were they truly invisible to her? And, more important, how were we going to find out without revealing the truth about Sugar Maple?
"She's like a blank slate," Janice said. "I'm not picking up any history at all."
"There must be something." I tried to ignore the latest round of chills racing up my spine.
But Lynette and Bettina came up empty too.
I would have launched my own set of thought probes but I didn't want to do anything that could even remotely harm my baby. Thoughts probes sometimes turned out to be a two-way street.
"She must be magick then," I reasoned. "All humans have histories."
"And so do magicks," Janice parried.
"Keep an eye on things," I said. "I'm going to see what's on her registration form."
Not much, as it turned out, beyond the usual name, address, payment info, and list of workshops requested.
LIV JENSSEN
BOX 411
GRANITE NOTCH NH
A zip code, a New Hampshire phone number, marked paid by money order.
I don't know what I expected to find. We don't ask for references or numbers to call in case of emergency. All we need to know is that you're a knitter or want to become one.
"She passed out again," Lynette said as I re-entered the front of the shop.
I was treated to the now familiar sight of the curvy blond lying splat in the middle of the floor. 'What happened this time?"
"Penelope leaped onto her lap and the second she placed her hand on the cat's fur, she was gone," Lynette offered.
"She picked up Penny's vibes big time," Janice said. "I mean, there were sparks flying everywhere."
"What are we going to do with her?" I asked as we carried her over to the sofa near the hearth. "We can't hold her hostage."
"Well, we can't let her go tonight either," Janice, mother of five, said in full maternal mode. "Not in this condition."
"Maybe we should call someone," Bettina suggested, "and let them know she's here and we're taking care of her."
"Call who?" I asked. "There was nothing on her registration form."
"Family," Bettina said. "Friends. Co-workers. Someone must be waiting for her to come