I struggled not to look at him, at that sexy crooked smile, at his unbuttoned shirt, at his black eyes still glinting with the heady exhilaration of the Change, still hungry-

He moved to the gap and leaned against it, his right hand pressed to the glass, one eye peeking through, a sliver of bare torso close enough to-

Oh, God. I couldn't do this. Screw my resolve.

I reached for the door handle, then stopped. Seduce him? An amazing night of sex and he'd be mine forever? If I honestly believe it would be that easy, I'd have done it four years ago.

"Good night," I said.

"No kiss?"

"Absolutely not."

His lips twitched. His left hand slid through the crack, grabbing the door frame, ready to open it. With one wrench he could be inside, but he just stood there.

"Just one kiss," he said. "Let me in."

"Or you'll huff and you'll puff?"

A throaty laugh that sent a wave of heat through me.

"I could," he said. "If you'd like. Or I can stay right here. Just open the door a little more…"

He moved his face against the two-inch crack. His lips parted, the tip of his tongue showing against white teeth. My knees quavered as I imagined cracking that door open, just a couple of inches more, and pressing against the gap, feeling his body, the heat of it, tasting his kiss, his hunger-

"No," I said, so fast it came out as a squeak.

"Then why don't you come out here?"

"Because in two minutes I'd be on that cement floor, getting strips ripped from my ass, and I wouldn't be able to sit for a week."

He laughed-a full deep laugh that made me want to throw open the door. But if he wasn't opening it himself, that meant that despite that adrenaline inebriation, part of him was still thinking clearly enough to hold back. That part that wasn't ready to take a chance.

"Good night, Jeremy," I said, and closed the door.

I stepped away, reached back and started unzipping my dress.

He pressed his hands to the glass. I could read his lips. "That's not fair."

I smiled and finished unzipping. The dress slid off my shoulders, but stayed there. I looked at him, his gaze fixed on me, eyes dark with lust.

"You wouldn't dare," he mouthed.

I turned, then let it fall off the rest of the way. And, once off, there was nothing else to remove.

"Jaime!"

I heard him though the glass, heard him say my name in a deep growl that made me shiver, but I didn't turn around, just lifted my fingers to wave over my shoulder, then strolled into the bathroom for a very long, very cold shower.

RUNAWAY

THE NEXT MORNING, I snuck downstairs, hoping to avoid Becky. One of the guards said she was closeted in a teleconference with Todd Simon and several network execs.

I took my coffee into the garden.My plan was to visit the child ghosts as if to reassure myself-and them-that I was making progress. But something else was gnawing at me. Something I needed to do, however difficult it was. Tansy had helped me last night. Now I needed to return the favor, at least by hearing her out.

It took only a few minutes of summoning before she appeared.

"You wanted to talk to me the other day," I said. "I'm sorry it took so long to get back to you. I've been-"

"-busy with far more important things." She sat beside me on the low wall. "What a mess, huh? Those poor kids. We didn't even notice them until we saw what you were doing. We keep trying to talk to them, but they can't hear us."

"I'm not sure they can hear me either. But I appreciate the help. I really do."

She nodded, then went quiet for a moment. I braced myself, waiting for her to ask for help in return.

"I'm sorry about springing Gabrielle on you like that," she said finally. "I thought maybe you could get inside information, and I feel awful about raising her hopes."

"I'm sure she would have found me anyway. I only wish I could do something. But in some cases, I just can't. Finding a murderer. Bringing him to justice. Beyond my realm of influence, no matter how much I might want to."

I gave the words extra emphasis, trying to prepare her for disappointment. But she only stared at me, uncomprehending. Then her eyes widened.

"Oh, shit! Am I a moron or what? You guys are trying to figure out who killed Marilyn. I was the warm-up, wasn't I? That's what that Angel chick wanted to know. Who killed me."

"But you don't know who did it," I said, tensing.

"You should see your face," she said with a peal of laughter. "You're waiting for me to ask for help. Bring my killer to justice, damn it!" Another laugh and a shake of her head. "I already know who killed me and I have no interest in bringing him to 'justice.' "

"What?"

She pulled her knees up to sit cross-legged. "I couldn't remember for a while, but eventually I did. It was this guy I came to the party with-I'm not naming names 'cause he's still alive. Anyway, I was high on winning the Emmy and too much champagne. I found this gun in the house and I was showing it to him outside. He was playing with it and-" She shrugged. "The end of Tansy Lane."

"I'm sorry."

"We were being stupid. Drunk kids goofing off with a gun."

Turned out, the only thing she wanted from me was conversation. She peppered me with questions about the shoot and my career, topics of interest to someone who'd grown up in the biz. Then she left me to try contacting the children again, and promised she'd be around, should I need help from the other side.