“That stupid psychic center we went to together for testing,” Charlotte murmured. “It gave me the creeps.”

Genevieve nodded. “Exactly. The Morrison Center. We went for a lark, but it wasn’t the least bit fun. They got interested in us way too fast and kept asking very personal questions. When we left, I thought we were followed.”

Charlotte had thought so as well. The testing site had been a little hole-in-the-wall, but in a high-traffic area, so neither had thought anything of it. They both often said they were psychic, and thought it would be so much fun to go in and test it, just like having their palms read. Something fun to do. It hadn’t turned out to be very fun.

Charlotte looked into Genevieve’s green eyes and saw the same pain she was feeling reflected there. Who knew that something they’d done on a whim would have such horrific consequences? It was like that with them. They both thought along the same lines, knew what the other was thinking.

“Ever since going there, I feel like we’re being watched,” Genevieve said. “And not in a good way. When we were still in France, before Grand-mère was murdered, a couple of men asked me out and I got this really creepy vibe from them. When they talked I just kept having the image of the testing center crop up in my mind and I couldn’t help associating them with it.”

Charlotte nodded her understanding. The same thing had happened to her more than once. And then the murders happened. Since then, they’d been much more careful. No dates. No fun. No strangers in their lives. Charlotte ran her brother’s cabinetmaking business, and she did a little art restoration on the side, but she hadn’t really been working at her own business for months. Not since she’d returned to the United States.

“What are we going to do, Charlie?” Genevieve asked. “I can’t live like this for much longer. I know I should be grateful I’m alive, that we’re alive, and I don’t want to do anything that might endanger Lourdes, but I feel like I’m suffocating.”

Charlotte knew how she felt. “We’ve taken the first step by coming here. We weren’t all that quiet about it, either, Vi. We’ve attracted a lot of attention. Those men, the ones who keep asking us to dance – they give off that creepy testing vibe to me. What about you? And do they look familiar to you? I swear I’ve seen them before. I think in France.”

Genevieve followed Charlotte’s gaze to the three men who had continuously asked them to dance and sent drinks to their table. They’d winked and flirted and stayed close all night. They were good dancers; they’d asked other women and Charlotte had watched them. All three men knew what they were doing on the dance floor. All three were exceptionally good-looking. They seemed like men who frequented the dance club and picked up their share of women there. Still, there was something off about them.

“Same here. The one named Vince, Vince Tidwell, touches me with one finger every time he gets close enough. He just runs it over my skin. Instead of giving me any kind of cool shiver, it gives me the creeps, and the image of the testing center is right there in my mind. I keep telling myself we tested in France, so would they really follow us here? But I’m fairly certain they did.”

“So maybe we should leave and then wait for them outside and try to follow them,” Charlotte suggested. “Lourdes is safe for tonight. I’ve called half a dozen times, and Grace assures me all is quiet on the home front. We could track them tonight and find out where they’re staying and who they really are. Maybe we’ll find out what they want from us.”

Genevieve’s vivid green eyes lit up. “Absolutely. I need to do something to make me feel like I’m not sitting on my hands, just waiting for someone to murder me. I have to do something positive to help myself.”

Charlotte nodded. She knew better. She had Lourdes. Responsibilities. One huge responsibility. She’d always been adventuresome. She pursued her dreams with wide-open arms, rushing headlong where others were afraid to go. She hadn’t stayed home with her brother. She worked hard from the time she was very young so she could finance her trip to France, where she’d always wanted to go. She learned French early and worked hard at it until she could speak like a native. She’d left behind her brother and come back only to help him when his wife died. And then she left again.

“Selfish,” she murmured aloud. “I’ve always been selfish, doing the things I wanted to do. I want to go after them, too, Vi. I swear I do.” She had to put her mouth close to Genevieve’s ear to be heard over the music. She wasn’t the type of woman to hide in a house with the covers over her head, but what was the right thing to do? She honestly didn’t know.

“Lourdes would be a lot safer if we figured this out, Charlie,” Genevieve pointed out.

She wasn’t saying anything Charlotte hadn’t already told herself, but Charlotte still didn’t know if she herself was making excuses to jump into action because she wanted to justify taking the fight and shoving it right down the throat of their enemy.

Charlotte made up her mind. She couldn’t just keep hiding. It wasn’t in her character and Genevieve was so right – Lourdes needed to settle into a normal life. They couldn’t keep moving and trying to cover their tracks. “Let’s do it, then, Vi. We can follow them and see if we can find out what they’re up to. You can’t look like you, though. You draw way too much attention.”

Charlotte risked another quick glance at the three men. The one named Daniel Forester appeared to be the leader. His two friends definitely deferred to him. He was tall and good-looking and he knew it. He was staring at her even as he danced with another woman. The woman looked up at him with absolute worship, and he was ignoring her to stare at Charlie.

She raised an eyebrow at him to let him know she thought he was being rude. He grinned at her as if they shared a secret. “He is an arrogant prick,” she hissed.

“So are his friends. Players. All three of them,” Genevieve said. “They know they look good and they use their appearances to pick up women.”

Charlotte couldn’t help it; she laughed softly, breaking the stare with Daniel to regard her best friend. Genevieve was in full makeup and looked like a runway model. “Seriously? We’re really getting bad here, Vi. We both know we look good and we came here hoping for a little fun.”