Kimberly Henson awoke with a start. What a dream, she thought, rubbed her eyes, looked at the clock. It was three in the morning. No sense trying to go back to sleep, she thought, not with a dream like that so fresh on her mind. She brushed her dark curls away from her face, reached for her robe, scratched Ghost the white Pekingese behind his ears, pulled the robe on before she opened her door and made her way down the long hall to Liz's room at the front of the manor. At Liz's door, she and Ghost paused to listen, heard Liz's even breaths. No point in waking her; it wasn't that bad of a dream, but it had left Kim disturbed all the same.

Instead, Kim turned to go down the front stairs to the first floor of McCann's rambling manor house she and Liz Carr, her long time house mate and best friend, now shared as payment for ridding it of the spirits which had been there for years. She would go to the kitchen, brew some coffee and take it to the huge octagonal library to ponder the greater meaning of the dream she had just had. At the foot of the stairs, she was met by the steady scrutiny of Spooky, their black cat, who blinked at her when she turned on the light in the front hall.

"Don't look at me so accusingly, young man," she whispered to the cat. "You were already awake prowling around; I didn't disturb you!"

Spooky yawned, stretched and padded down the hall behind Kim to see what she was going to feed him. Ghost snorted and snuffled along behind the others. He was accustomed to his mistresses waking at all hours of the night; it usually meant there would be a treat when they got to the kitchen, so he didn't mind it at all.

Kim turned on the coffeepot she had set up before she went to bed, then looked at the dog and cat who waited expectantly for their early morning treat. She opened a small bag of soft cat treats, split it between the two. Ghost might be a dog, but he had a real love for cat food and the few little morsels in this bag of treats wouldn't hurt him, she thought. Besides, it kept her from having to search out a peke treat of leftover chicken legs, which were cold in the fridge. Just because she was out of bed didn't mean she was ready for the kind of chores people do when they are actually awake.

As she watched them eat, Kim thought over the dream again. There was something about the place she recognized, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Then the answer quite abruptly came to her--the old bakery downtown. The place had a reputation for being haunted and the current owner had talked to her just days ago about trying to get rid of the spirit which seemed to cause trouble between whoever was currently living there and the romantic interests in their lives. "Hmm--" Kim mused, "are you the trouble maker, Belle?"

"Me-ow," Spooky said in a throaty voice.

Kim smiled as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Yeah, I know you are a trouble maker, little man, but I was talking about a different kind of trouble," she told him, then headed toward the library. She told herself she'd call Vicky Leighton, the current owner of the Old Bastrop Bakery, and make arrangements to come talk to the bakery spirit later in the morning. Probably Liz would want to go as well and it was always better to have two experienced parapsychologists in dealing with spirits than one. She wondered why Belle had contacted her in the dream; or was it poor little Jessica? After all, her sister had passed her death off as suicide; maybe Jessie wanted to set the record straight.

A hideous thought struck Kim. Suppose Jessica hadn't really been dead until Belle hanged her? Belle didn't listen for a heartbeat; if Jessica had been unconscious with the air knocked out of her, she might have appeared dead to Belle in her cursory examination of her sister. That would make the incident in Kim's dream manslaughter at best. Something told Kim her imagining was more on target than she wanted to admit, especially at this hour of the morning. She shivered at the knowledge, hurried to the library.

Later in the morning, the phone rang and Kim picked up the kitchen receiver to the sound of excited gasps and high-pitched squeals coming from the other end. "Hello?"

"Elizabeth?" a woman on the other end said breathlessly.

Kim rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. She recognized the voice of longtime associate and fellow psychic, Gertrude Leiderhausen, whose fabled German accent tended to fade in and out when she was particularly overwrought, which she undoubtedly was at the moment. "Gertrude," Kim began, "This is Kim. Catch your breath, dear."

"Ach, Kimberly! Is Elizabeth there?"

"Yes, she is, but she hasn't come downstairs yet. She is still asleep, I'm afraid." Kim said calmly. "Can it wait?"

"No! No-no, this is most urgent. You see, I have had a vision and you and Elizabeth may be in grave danger," Gertrude uttered in a loud stage whisper for its dramatic effect.

Kim shook her head, changed the receiver to her other ear. "Now, Gertie, if this concerns both of us, surely you can tell me about it," Kim suggested, reluctant to waken Liz to the news Gertrude was on the phone.

"Ah, well, I'm on my way to your house this moment and I wanted to call ahead to make sure you were both there; this matter cannot be discussed over the phone," Gertrude hissed.

"On your way over here? Are you certain you know how to get here, dear?"

"Oh, yes, I still have my directions from the invitation to your Halloween party which got rained out, and I should be there within about ten minutes; I'm just leaving Bastrop," Gertrude assured her.

"Oh, great," Kim sighed. "Well, yes, we are both here so do come ahead, Gertie."

"You will wake Elizabeth?"

"Yes. I will wake Liz and we will see you in a few minutes," Kim confirmed, shaking her head again.

"Ach, good! It will be so good to get the burden of this news off my chest. Soon," Gertrude said as she broke the connection.

"Oh, yes, Gertie, by all means; off your chest and onto our backs!" Kim said to the phone.

"What are you mumbling about?" Liz asked sleepily as she entered the kitchen.

Kim jumped at the sound of Liz's voice behind her. "Yikes! You scared the daylights out of me," she said.

"Scared you? Why are you so jumpy?" Liz asked with a grin.

"Oh, I don't know. Probably has something to do with the dream I had last night and now Gertie just called and is on her way over here," Kim explained.

"On her way over here?" Liz parroted. "Why?"

"Yah, vell, she had a vision and ve may bote be in grave danger," Kim said in her best pretended German accent.

"Oh. What a piece of luck!" Liz said with a chuckle. "Your accent is better than hers, by the way! Whatever this vision was, it must be a real humdinger to bring her all the way from Austin. She seldom leaves her apartment these days."

"Yes, well, she was calling from Bastrop city limits and she will be here in mere moments," Kim said with a sardonic smile.

"Rats! Guess I had better go back up and comb my hair and throw on some clothes, then. Nothing like a visit from Gertrude Leiderhausen to start the day!" Liz complained.

"Well, look at it this way; if Gertie comes to your house first thing in the morning, nothing worse can happen to you the rest of the day. Right?"

Liz laughed, headed for the front stairs. "You are wicked, Kimberly Dawn--positively wicked!"

"Thanks! Means a lot to me, coming from you!" Kim chortled, raised her coffee mug in salute.

"Ach! This house is indisputably--otherworldly," Gertrude pronounced as she entered the door. "So dramatic!"

"We like it. Come on in, Gertie," Liz greeted. "Here, let me take your hat and coat."

"Thank you, dear," Gertrude sighed as she allowed herself to be peeled out of her overly tight, worn woolen coat and scarf before handing her equally outmoded felt hat to Liz. Gertrude Leiderhausen was all of five foot two and had ragged gray hair and a triple chin which made her appear even shorter and stockier than she actually was. No one knew for sure how old Gertrude was, but it was a rare event indeed which brought her out of her self-imposed seclusion of retirement; yet here she was standing in the entry of McCann's manor, obviously forgetful for a moment of the dire emergency which had brought her there. She eyed the shining cherry wood paneling, the ornate grandfather clock at the end of the foyer, the gleaming wooden floor peeping from beneath the edges of the luxurious Oriental rug which ran the length of the hall.

"Oh, my," she breathed at last, "when I heard you had moved into a mansion, I never dreamed--"

"I know," Kim said, leading Gertrude toward the front parlor. "It's still a little hard for us to believe as well, but it is starting to feel like home."

"You have been successful, then; in ridding the house of the evil spirits, I mean?" Gertrude asked, her large eyes bulging even more as she glanced about as though expecting spooks to come out of the shadows.

"Yes, we have been successful, although it won't be official until we have been here an entire year without further occurrences," Kim said. "Mostly, I don't think of them as being evil, though; misguided and misunderstood, certainly, but not truly evil."

"You are quite sure?" Gertrude asked warily, creeping on tiptoe into the parlor behind Kim.

Kim smiled in spite of herself. "Sure?" she asked. "What? That they were not evil, or that they are really gone? Please, sit down, won't you? Would you like some coffee? Tea?"

Gertrude laughed nervously as she took a seat near the window. "No, thank you; I shan't take much of your time. I just had to see you both to tell you about my vision. I meant, are you sure they are truly gone. Spirits can be quite devious, you know."

"Yes, we do know; and these were, but we have thoroughly put all the mischievous spirits associated with this house to rest. They won't be back," Kim assured her.

"Vunderbar. I should like very much to hear all about it," Gertrude said as she smiled expectantly.

"We are sworn to secrecy at the moment, Gertie," Kim said.

"Oh?" Gertrude pouted.

"Yes," Liz confirmed. "You see, I wrote it up for the Parapsychology Journal and they made me promise we wouldn't tell anyone before the Journal publishes next month."

"Oh, but surely--" Gertrude began.

"Afraid not," Liz continued. "They wanted it to be an exclusive story and that's why they bumped several other articles scheduled for publication next month to put in our story instead. If we told anyone, it might blow their exclusivity clause; I could get into trouble, big time and they would never publish any of my stories again! I would risk losing my credibility; I can't afford that." Liz was exaggerating, but she knew if she told Gertrude, everyone in the Austin Parapsychology Group would know the story by tomorrow.

"Oh, that is too bad, but I understand, of course. Parapsychology Journal is the cream of the crop as far as that type of publication goes. Still I wish--" Gertrude signed.

"You will just have to wait and read it with everyone else; next month," Kim said, almost with more relish than she thought was fair. "But you have something to tell us, remember?"

"Ach! Yes, I do; terribly bad news," she said and then paused as though waiting to be prodded for the story she was so anxious to tell.

"Well?" Kim took the bait.

Gertrude's dark wide eyes began to dance with excitement as she considered exactly what to say and how to say it, but she kept the vision from her hostesses just a bit longer. "You realize, I do not get this kind of information often anymore; precognitive, that is. Most of the time it is a vision of what has happened in the past, to help solve crimes and the like."

"Yes, we understand that, Gertie. Please go on," Liz encouraged.

"Ach, forgive me!" she said, then leaned toward Kim and Liz as though someone else might hear what she had to say, and she wanted to keep it between the three of them. "There is going to be a murder, right here in good ole Bastrop, Texas," she whispered, waited for the news to sink in for effect. "Someone you two know well is implicated. You should be very careful, because he may be dangerous to you as well, especially when you discover his part in the crime!"

"Someone is going to be murdered. Here in Bastrop?" Kim reiterated. "Someone we know?" "I do not know if you know the victim, but you do know the perpetrator; and you know him well!" she whispered. "Beware of men you think you know, for a friend you know may also be an enemy you do not know!" Gertrude looked from Liz to Kim and back again, her round, black eyes gravid and full of mystery, looking for a sign her riddle had been understood and there would be no need to discuss it further. She ended this display with a wink and a nod before putting her pudgy index finger to her pursed lips as an instruction they were to tell no one for fear they might let it slip to the wrong person.