lizabeth left the house early the following morning. It was Saturday. She went home and changed into shorts and Reeboks, went into her second bedroom, which served as an office and an exercise room, and climbed on the stationary bike. She then did fifty sit-ups, used the free weights, then climbed on the treadmill.

She liked to stay in shape. Her job was mentally stressful and exercising seemed to help. The apartment complex also had a pool and she swam whenever she got the chance. As soon as she had showered, she fixed herself something to eat, then, seeing how bare the cupboards were getting, decided to do some grocery shopping.

Later in the afternoon, she planned to speak to Miguel. She called Maria to be sure she was all right and ask what time would be good for her to stop by.

At five o'clock, she left her apartment and headed down Highway 51. Miguel was standing at the living room window when she crossed the abandoned tracks and pulled up in the driveway, a lean, black-haired man without an ounce of extra flesh beneath his weathered, brown, suntanned skin. At twenty-nine, with his heavily lashed dark eyes and strong jaw, he was handsome. He was also the kind of man who believed he was always right, especially when the person who disagreed with him was a woman.

"I do not understand any of this," Miguel said once Elizabeth finished telling him her tale. "You and Maria—both of you think something is wrong with the house, but that cannot be. This is a good house. My wife is lucky to live in a house as fine as this one."

Elizabeth kept the smile fixed on her face. "It's a very good house, Miguel. That's the reason we need to find out what's wrong with it."

"Nothing is wrong with it! You and my wife…I think there is something wrong with you!"

This wasn't going to work. She wished she had never mentioned the house. She would have been better off to approach the problem from an entirely different angle. Then again, knowing Miguel, there probably wasn't any good way to approach the problem.

"Maria loves this place as much as you do," she said. "It's just that there may be a few things that need to be fixed. Sometimes it makes noises that frighten her. She has the baby to think of, and when you aren't home at night, she's afraid."

"She is a child. It is time she grew up."

Damn, she was making a mess of this. "What I'm trying to say, Miguel, is that Maria feels…she feels safe when you're here with her. She knows that you can protect her. I thought maybe you could find someone to stay with her on the nights you won't be home until late."

Miguel said a word in Spanish she couldn't quite make out and didn't want to. In the course of her job, the Spanish she had learned in high school and college had become a second language. She couldn't imagine working in the area without it.

"I will take care of my wife as I always have. You do not need to worry."

Elizabeth forced herself to smile. "Thank you, Miguel. I knew you would understand." Understand? The man had the understanding of a rabbit. Thank God she hadn't mentioned Maria's ghost.

She left the two of them standing at the window in the living room, hoping Maria would not suffer for the attempt she had made to help. Whatever happened, she had promised the girl she would help her find out what was happening in the house and she meant to keep her word. First thing Monday morning, she would phone Carson Harcourt and ask if she could stop by and see him.

* * *

She called Carson from her office, but he didn't seem the least bit pleased to hear from her.

"I'm afraid I'm busy most of the day," he said brusquely. "What is it you need?"

"Look, Carson, I realize you're angry about my having lunch with Zach, but that has nothing to do with this. I need to talk you about something that's happening on the farm."

A momentary pause. "All right. I'll be working in my study most of the afternoon."

"Is two o'clock okay?"

"Fine. I'll see you then." He hung up the phone and Elizabeth waited for the regret to set in. It was obvious Carson wouldn't be asking her out again. She ought to be unhappy. But the plain truth was she wasn't attracted to Carson Harcourt and never would be. This would have happened sooner or later. It was far better that it happened now.

She had three counseling sessions lined up that Monday morning. At nine o'clock, Geraldine Hickman and her daughter, Carol; followed an hour later by ten-year-old Nina Mendoza; then an appointment with Richard Long, a member of her rage counseling group.

Mrs. Hickman and her daughter were there at Mrs. Hickman's insistence, having discovered her twelve-year-old was having sex with a number of boys at school.

"Mark paid for my ticket to the matinee," Carol explained to her mother during the session. "How else was I supposed to repay him?"

It made Elizabeth sick to think how little these young girls valued themselves—their bodies worth no more than a ticket to the movies.

Nina Mendoza's sessions were paid for by the county. The entire family went into counseling after the police were called to their home for the third time in a row. Emilio Mendoza had been arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct and resisting arrest. Later, it was discovered he had also given his youngest daughter, eight at the time, a beating severe enough for a trip to the emergency room for not eating all of the food on her plate.

Nina was removed to foster care, but she was returned to her family now, and all of them were beginning to understand that violence didn't have to be a way of life.

Elizabeth's final appointment of the morning was with a forty-two-year-old man named Richard Long. Richard was there at the court's insistence, a local attorney who had battered his wife on so many occasions it was either get counseling or lose his license to practice law and spend time in jail.

Richard was also ordered to attend the Thursday night group session that either she or Michael conducted, but so far, the man just seemed to be marking time. Elizabeth wondered if there was the slightest chance he would ever change.

With the morning over, she left the office at noon, grabbed a quick sandwich for lunch, ran a couple of errands, then went out to see Carson at Harcourt Farms. The housekeeper, a young Hispanic girl, showed her in.

"Señor Harcourt is expecting you. He is working in his study. If you will please follow me."

She was pretty, Elizabeth thought, perhaps twenty-one or two, with a curvy figure that even her plain black slacks and white blouse couldn't hide. She smiled as they reached the study then silently slipped away.

Working at his desk, Carson stood up as Elizabeth walked into the room.

"Hello, Elizabeth."

"Hello, Carson. Thank you for seeing me."

"Have a seat. What can I do for you?"

Letting his abrupt manner set the tone, she walked over to the chair next to his rolltop desk and sat down while Carson returned to his seat.

"I spent Friday night with Maria Santiago. Something odd is happening in the Santiago house. I was hoping you might be able to help me figure out what it is."

For the next twenty minutes, she explained about the odd happenings in the house and her suspicion that something was wrong with the construction or the pipes or maybe the ground underneath.

"This is a farm, after all," she said. "Maybe the soil was polluted by something before the house was built. That might account for the smell, at least. What I'd like to do, if you don't mind, is bring in someone to take a look at the place, see what we might be able to discover."

Carson rose from his chair, giving him the advantage. She wanted to stand up, too, but forced herself to remain in her seat.

"Actually, I do mind. I mind a great deal. Miguel Santiago is the youngest overseer on the farm. He was given that job ahead of several other well-qualified workers. The house you're discussing is only four years old and there is absolutely nothing wrong with it."

"I spent a night in that house, Carson. Something was definitely wrong."

"The girl is young. She has a vivid imagination. Whatever she told you influenced what you thought happened that night. That's all there is to it."

She held on to her temper, knowing it would only make things worse if she got angry. "Then perhaps there's another solution."

"And that would be…?"

"Maybe there's somewhere else they could live. Another house in the complex, or somewhere not too far away."

His face began to redden. "There are four overseers' houses in the compound and four overseers working on the farm. All of the houses are occupied and I am not about to rent a place somewhere else because Santiago's wife is pregnant and imagining things. Besides, I want my foremen here, close by if they're needed."

It was a good argument. A twelve-thousand acre farm required good management. He needed his foremen nearby to handle the numerous problems that came up. Still, she hadn't been imagining things that night at the Santiago's house. And she was beginning to understand Maria's frustration at not being believed.

Elizabeth stood up to leave. "Well, that's it then. Thank you for your time."

"Sorry I couldn't be more help."

"I understand your position."

His blue eyes fixed on her face. "Do you? I don't think so." He was no longer talking about the farm, she knew, but her lunch date with his brother. "I had hopes for us, Elizabeth. I can't believe you're letting Zach use you the way he is. I thought you were smarter than that."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? He saw me with you that night at the benefit. He realized I had an interest in you and now he is trying to destroy it. That's the way Zach is. He's been jealous of me all his life. He'll do anything he can to hurt me."

She smoothed a wrinkle on the front of her skirt. "He isn't going to oppose your run for office. That must mean something."

"Maybe he won't. Then again, you never know what Zach is going to do."

She mulled that over, wondering if Carson might not be right. In his youth, Zach had been wild and unpredictable. There was a good chance he still was.

"I'd better get going. As I said, thanks for your time."

"Think about what I said, Elizabeth. If you decide I'm right about Zach, give me a call. I'd still like to see you. But not as long as my brother and I are in some sort of competition."

She opened her mouth to tell him there was no competition, that she wasn't the least bit interested in Zach. Then she realized she was even less interested in Carson, so instead she simply nodded. "I'll give it some thought."

She left the study and made her way out to the car, hissing in a breath as she slid across the burning red leather seat. Sticking her key in the ignition, she started the car.

Carson wasn't going to help, she thought as the engine roared to life. But that didn't mean she couldn't find a way around him. Carson wasn't the only Harcourt who had a say in what happened at Harcourt Farms. She decided she would phone Sam Marston and get Zach's number in L.A. The notion of calling Zach sat like a stone in her stomach, but she had to find out what was happening in the house and somehow put a stop to it.

* * *

It was Thursday before Elizabeth managed to get hold of Zach. Their last conversation hadn't ended that pleasantly, but in truth, she had overreacted at the news of his involvement with Lisa. It was, after all, only lunch. And he had apologized, rather sincerely, she thought.

Still, she wasn't sure quite how to approach him. As she dialed the number for Noble, Goldman and Harcourt that Sam had given her, she decided her best strategy would be to use Carson's refusal as leverage to gain his brother's agreement to help.

She almost smiled. They wanted to play games. Well, she could play a few herself.

The operator passed her through to Zach's office and a moment later, she heard his deep voice on the line.

"Liz? I can't believe this is really you."

"I need to talk to you, Zach."

"Something earthshaking must have happened for you to be calling me here." She heard the shift in his voice. "It isn't Raul? Something hasn't happened to the boy?"

"No, it's nothing like that. Well, at least this only indirectly concerns Raul. It's about Maria…about the Santiago's house."

"My God, don't tell me you actually saw a ghost!"

She laughed. "No, of course not. But…"

"Go on."

"But something odd did happen that night. Something very odd. And more than a little bit frightening." She had his attention now. Sensing victory might lie ahead, she went on to tell him about the noises and the smell, the terrible cold and her difficulty breathing.

"One thing is fairly certain—I don't think Maria is suffering from anxiety. I don't think what's happening has anything to do with a ghost, but there is definitely something wrong with that house."

She told him how she had gone to see Carson to try to find out if there was a problem with the construction or maybe something else, but he had refused to allow her to bring anyone in to examine the place.

"He was adamant about it," she said, hoping to goad him in the direction she wanted. "I don't understand it." She paused. "Of course, there is always the possibility he was just paying me back for having lunch with you."

She could feel the sudden tension on the line. As a game strategy, she had just scored one big point.

"I'm not sure how I can help, but I'll be up there tomorrow afternoon." He cleared his throat. "What do you say we have dinner and discuss it?"

Her hand tightened on the phone. Score one for his side. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"I'm not seeing Lisa anymore. I told you that and I meant it."

"I believe you, but—"

"If you're afraid Carson will object—"

"I don't give a damn about Carson."

She could almost see him smile. "I like hearing those words. So we're on for supper?"

If it were anyone else, she would agree, but this was Zachary Harcourt. And if they went to The Ranch House again, the gossip would be all over town. "I don't know, I…"

"We'll drive over to Mason. No one will have to know you're out with the town bad boy."

She found herself smiling. He was certainly that. "All right, we'll have dinner. What time?"

"I'll pick you up at seven."

She gave him the address to her apartment and hung up the phone, feeling as if she had lost the first skirmish. Still, she was determined to win the war. Tomorrow she would find a way to convince Zach Harcourt to help her uncover the answers to the problems in the house.