"I know."

"You slipped away. You weren't with me, you were with him. Looking at him." With love. "You said nothing would ever be the same."

"I know what I said. He took me back. Kane took me back, but I knew it." Steadier, she lifted her head. "I knew it, almost as soon as it started. I felt… I'm not ashamed of what I felt, and I'm not sorry for it. That would mean I'm ashamed and sorry about Simon. But I can be sorry Kane used you that way."

"You cried for him." Reaching out, Brad caught a tear on his fingertip.

"Yes, I cried for James. And for what might've been if he'd been stronger, maybe if we'd both been stronger. Then I said good-bye."

She laid her hand over Brad's, curled her fingers into his palm. "Kane wanted me to feel all those things I felt for James, and he wanted to use them to drive something between us. Has he?"

"It pissed me off. It hurt." He looked down at their joined hands and, after a moment, turned his over so their fingers linked. "But no, he didn't drive anything between us."

"Bradley." She started to lean in, wanted to touch her lips to his. And saw the knife. Her eyes went huge. "Oh, God."

"He can be hurt," Bradley said simply. "If I get the chance, I'm going to hurt him." Standing, he sheathed the knife, then held a hand down to her.

She moistened her lips. "You better be careful with that thing."

"Yes, Mom."

"Still a little pissed, aren't you? I know who you are, Bradley. I know who I am. He tried to make me forget that, but he couldn't. That has to mean something. I felt exactly like I did when I was sixteen and with James. My body, my heart, my head. He ran his hand down my hair. I wore it long then, and he used to do that. Run his hand all the way down my hair when he kissed me. That kind of thing's inside me, in those memory boxes. Kane can get into those."

It took a supreme act of will, but Bradley forced himself to think beyond the personal, toward the quest. "What did he say to you? James—what did he say to you?"

"That he loved me, that I'd never feel about anyone else the way I did about him. That's true, I won't. I shouldn't. But Bradley, I knew ."

She spun around now, and her face shone. "Even when I was standing there with hair halfway down my back and his face in my hands, I knew it wasn't real. Just a trick. And I used it."

She pressed her palms together, tapped the sides of her fingers against her mouth as she turned in a circle. "This place. I had to come back here. More, I had to come back here with you. But the key isn't here." She dropped her hands. "It's not here."

"I'm sorry."

"No." She shook her head, twirled again, with a brilliant smile. "I know it's not here. I feel it. I don't have to wonder, I don't have to come back hoping or looking, because I've done what I needed to do here. Or we have."

She jumped into his arms, hard and fast enough to knock him back a full step. Laughing, she hooked her legs around his waist and gave him a noisy kiss. "I don't know what it all means, but I'll figure it out. For the first time in days, I believe I'll figure it out. I'm going to unlock that box, Bradley."

She pressed her cheek to his. "I'm going to unlock it, and they're going to go home."

When they pulled up at Flynn's, Zoe aimed a steely look at Brad. "This is on your head, I want to make that clear."

"You did. About six times already."

"I'm not going to have any sympathy for you or your belongings."

"Yeah, yeah. Blah blah."

She stifled a laugh, kept her face stern as she followed him toward the house. "Just remember who tried to be practical."

"Right." He shot her a grin as he pushed open the door. "You were a goner as soon as you looked into those big brown eyes."

"I could've waited a week."

"Liar."

The laugh escaped as she set the puppy down and let him race down the hall. "This ought to be interesting."

Moe shot out of the kitchen, then skidded to a halt. His eyes rolled, his body braced. And the little pup, a ball of brown and gray fur, yipped in joy and leaped up to nip at Moe's nose.

Brad grabbed Zoe's arm before she could ran forward. "But what if—"

"Have a little faith," Brad suggested.

Moe quivered, sniffed the pup as it jumped and tumbled. Then he collapsed, rolling over on his back in an attitude of bliss as the puppy climbed all over him and chewed on his ears.

"Big softie," Zoe murmured, and felt her own smile spread, big and foolish, as Simon wandered out from the kitchen.

"Hey, Mom! We're having subs for lunch. Me and Flynn made them, and…" He trailed off, his eyes going round as the puppy deserted Moe to charge him.

"Whoa! A puppy. Where'd he come from?" Simon was already down on the floor, laughing as the pup licked his face, tumbling back as Moe tried to horn in. "He looks like a bear cub or something."

Buried in dogs, Simon twisted enough to look at Brad. "Is it yours? When'd you get him? What's his name?"

"Not mine. He's just been liberated. And he doesn't have one."

"Then who—" He went very still, and those long gold eyes fixed on his mother's.

"He's yours, baby."

In that moment she knew the puppy could chew through her house like a plague of termites and she would never regret it. She would never forget that flash of stunned joy on her little boy's face.

“To keep?" Simon's voice shook as he managed to get to his knees. "I can keep him?"

"I think he's counting on it." She walked over to kneel down and raffle the pup's cloud-soft fur. "You're going to have to be very responsible, and make sure he's fed right and taught, and loved. Puppies are a lot of work. He's going to depend on you."

"Mom." Too overcome to be embarrassed that Brad looked on, Simon threw his arms around his mother and buried his face against her shoulder. "I'll take good care of him. I promise. Thanks, Mom. I love you more than anything, ever."

"I love you more than anything, ever." She answered his fierce hug with one of her own, then managed a watery laugh when both dogs tried to wiggle between them. "I think Moe's going to like having a friend."

"It's just like a big family." Simon lifted the puppy high.

The newcomer expressed his delight by peeing on Simon's knee.

Chapter Sixteen

Zoe rubbed the exfoliating cream over Dana's calf and grinned as her friend let out a long, heartfelt moan.

"I really appreciate the two of you giving up your Sunday afternoon to be my guinea pigs."

This time Dana grunted. Malory sat on a stool in the treatment room and rubbed her fingers over her newly scrubbed and polished skin. "I can't get over how good it feels."

"I wasn't worried about the results—these products are great. But I want to be sure the whole experience works."

"Works for me," said Dana's slurred and muffled voice.

Zoe glanced around, scanning the shelves of products, the glowing candles, the neat stack of mint-green towels on the counter, the clear crystal she'd hung from the ceiling over the padded table.

It was, she thought, exactly right.

"Of course, when we're doing this for real there won't be three people in here talking. You want us to be quiet, Dana?"

"You don't even exist in my little world. That stuff smells as good as it feels."

"It's good we're doing this." Malory sipped some of the lemon water Zoe had chilled in a squat glass pitcher. "If we're going to open on Friday, we want to work out as many kinks as possible, in all three areas."

Swallowing hard, she pressed a hand to her belly. "God, we're going to open on Friday. Even if it is a kind of dry run for the grand opening on December first, it's happening."

"Big day, all around," Zoe said.

"You're going to find the key." Malory touched her shoulder. "I know it."

The connection—Malory's hand on her, hers on Dana—bolstered her. "That's another reason I wanted to do this today. I needed some time with just the three of us."

She glanced up at the crystal again. It certainly seemed she'd become a bit more mysticalminded over the last few months. 'To recharge my energy. My girl power."

"Rah-rah," Dana cheered and made Zoe laugh.

"With what happened yesterday I feel more confident, but this little voice keeps sneaking in asking me why the hell I think I can do this."

"Is it Zoe's voice," Dana asked her, "or Kane's?"

"It's Zoe's, which makes it more irritating. Yesterday, there was this rush of excitement, of energy, when I realized what was going on, that I knew what it was and could control it. But I need to move it from there."

"You went back to a beginning, and an ending." Curious, Malory examined the bottles and tubes neatly lined up on Zoe's shelves. "And with the three of us here today, we're going back to basics. Both Dana and I had periods during our part of this when we felt discouraged and lost."

"Check," Dana confirmed. "And when we went off on tangents that dead-ended. Or seemed to."

"Seemed to." Turning back, Malory nodded. "But without those tangents would we have gotten on the right track? I don't think so. It's something I've thought about a lot," she added, leaning back on the counter. "A quest isn't linear, it isn't straightforward. It circles and it winds and overlaps. But every step, every piece, has its place. Let's take yours."

"Dana has to rinse off."

"Then hold that thought." Wrapped in the bath sheet Zoe provided, Dana headed for the shower.