THE LAST FIRETRUCK pulled away from the shell of a once-beautiful house. Martha leaned against the police car, sobbing and stroking the leather jacket that had belonged to Al Fox.
“I don’t believe it,” Martha cried as Brickman called in his report. “He killed my brother and made love to me as if I were the only woman in the world.” Her eyes met Sydney’s for a second, then flicked away.
Brickman had told them that Fox had a checkered criminal record. His specialty had been duping wealthy women, and until a few months ago, his home had been a prison in Washington state.
“I think my car is an insurance statistic,” Sydney said, shaking her head. Flaming timbers had fallen on it, denting the hood and roof, setting fire to the upholstery. “You’re lucky your Thunderbird’s okay.”
“I wouldn’t have cared, as long as you were all right.”
Their eyes met and Sydney realized how much she loved Benno. Before she could tell him, Brickman approached them.
“I’m heading back to town.” The lawman looked at Sydney, his expression devoid of his usual belligerence. “Where will I find you tomorrow?”
“My place,” Benno said. “Right?”
“His place,” Sydney agreed.
Brickman nodded and returned to his vehicle. He helped Martha into the passenger seat where she sat as if she were in shock. He started the engine and backed down the drive.
“I actually feel sorry for her,” Sydney said, following Benno to the Thunderbird. “She really loved him.”
“What about you?” he asked tersely.
“I thought I did, but I was mistaken.” She sensed he was waiting for more. “I wasn’t mistaken about you, though. I love you and want to be with you.”
Benno stopped and stared down at her intently. “With me? What exactly does that mean?”
“It means I don’t want to rush into anything this time.”
“Why? Because of my past.”
Sydney glanced out over the property toward the cliff. It would be tough staying in Stone Beach with that constant reminder of her foolishness and of the terror she’d been through always in sight. But being with the man she loved would help her forget.
“I don’t care about your past, Benno. I care about the human being you are now. I told you that before. I just want to take things slow,” she explained, “make sure we both know how we feel.” She tried to lighten the heavy atmosphere. “So, if I’m going to stay a while, I need a job. You could hire me to read Tarot cards at Benno’s Place.”
“You’re kidding, right?” When she shook her head, Benno said, “You can’t really have so much faith in those things.”
“I don’t live by them, if that’s what you mean. I think of them as a kind of tool to help people feel good. I need something to make me feel better... maybe I’ve relied on them too heavily recently,” she admitted. “But things are clearer now. I know I have to trust in myself.”
“And in your psychic powers?”
“I hope they won’t get in the way. I want to be like other people, Benno. I always have. I don’t want to feel different or be afraid anymore.” She placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. “With you, I think I can handle anything.”
“I want that inner peace for you, Sydney.” He frowned. “But what about your advertising career? I can’t ask you to give that up.”
“I never meant to go back to it. I was looking for peace and quiet, a change of lifestyle.”
“Instead, you found Al Fox.”
“And then I found you. Give us some time to know each other better,” she pleaded, running her hand up to his beard-stubbled cheek and under a loose strand of hair at his temple. “We might decide we have a future together... if that’s good enough for you.”
“Enough?” Benno pulled her to his chest and wound his arms around her. “That’s better than I hoped for. I thought you would leave town and never look back. I love you, Sydney Raferty, and I don’t ever intend to let you go.”
Sydney gave him a brilliant smile as he bent to kiss her. Not every woman had her own dark knight.