Page 92 of Sweetwater and the Witch

It would have been nice to share the spectacular energy of the storm with Ethan, but he and Jones were still in Frequency, finishing up the interviews and accompanying paperwork that were always involved with an FBPI operation. She could only hope the storm would not delay the midnight rez-lev train.

She and Harriet had dined alone on pizza delivered from Ollie’s House of Pizza.All four food groups in each delicious bite. Featured in the movieGuild Boss.

Afterward, Harriet had disappeared through her private door. Ravenna had settled down to watch a murder mystery on the rez screen but had discovered she was too restless to pay attention. She had given up and called Sybil.

“Harriet missed the red flags, too,” Ravenna said.

“You said she liked both men,” Sybil mused. “But she’s a dust bunny. Who knows how she forms opinions about people?”

“She’s pretty good when it comes to sensing a threat. Well, an imminent threat, at any rate.”

“That’s just it. Neither Willis nor Hatch gave off any threatening vibes before they attacked you.”

“What are the odds that all three of us would be wrong about two different men?”

“I don’t know,” Sybil admitted.

“Neither do I, but my intuition tells me they are not good. We can no longer ignore the possibility that my talent is the problem. Thirty-six dates and no hits. Then I suddenly attract two stalkers. Let’s face it, there’s something very wrong with this picture.”

“Stop,” Sybil said. “Don’t go there. I’ve told you a gazillion times, your talent is not the problem. Case in point, Ethan Sweetwater does not appear to have any issues with your psychic side.”

“Ethan is... different.”

“How?” Sybil demanded.

“Damned if I know. He just is. I’m going to hang up now, Sybil. It’s been a rather stressful few days.”

“No kidding.”

“I’m going to pour another glass of wine and read until Ethan gets back from Frequency.”

“Good idea.” Sybil hesitated. “But call me if you get any insights into what went wrong with Willis and Hatch. I’m worried, too. I’m starting to wonder if there’s a major error in my program. If so, I need to find it before there’s another disaster.”

“Right. Talk to you later.”

Ravenna ended the call and went into the kitchen to pour a therapeutic glass of wine. She sank into her favorite reading chair and settled back with a novel of romantic suspense. She was midway through chapter three when she was distracted by the memory of an observation she had made earlier to Sybil.

Why the most recent two dates? Why not number five or number sixteen or the wellness spa guy?

Willis and Hatch both seemed like nice men. But wasn’t that what everyone said after the cops arrested the serial killer next door?

Actually, most of the time, there were a few red flags, but the neighbors ignored them because they didn’t seem important. It was only when they looked back that they realized a monster had moved among them.

But good matchmakers did not ignore even the smallest warning signs.

Ravenna put the book and the unfinished wine aside, got to her feet,and went into the study. She sat down at her desk, opened a drawer, and took out the little black book. She reached for the rez-Valentine pen that Ethan had given to Harriet.

When she touched it, she got the familiar little thrill of awareness. She knew the pen had not been intended for her—Ethan had planned to give it to his Covenant Marriage bride, whoever that turned out to be. But it felt good in her hand. Somehow it made her feel a little closer to Ethan, who would soon be on his way back to her.

Ethan, who didn’t give a damn about her psychic talent.

It occurred to her she was no longer worried he might be a member of a clan that resembled a mob family in certain respects. He was an engineer—most of the time.

She tightened her grip on the pen and went to work. She had been an excellent criminal profiler, and now she was a very good matchmaker. She knew how to do this. The first step was to take herself out of the equation and review the evidence with fresh eyes.

In the past few months she’d had thirty-six matches from the Banks agency. Of those, thirty-four dates had passed without any major incident—so far. Why the problems with the last two, and why now?

She worked steadily through her notes, paying particular attention to the para-psych profiles of the thirty-six men. Most had been strong talents of one kind or another. Some, like Willis, were in the gaming industry. There had been a few para-psychologists, a couple of surgeons, a handful of business executives, two tech people, a journalist, a professional daredevil, and the wellness spa guy.

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