Chapter 1

It was shaping up to be a pretty good day and I had high hopes that my recent run of good Karma was continuing. The desert air was cool and dry on my skin, lapping up the perspiration as I passed the halfway point of my morning run; only five more miles and I could hit the pool for laps to cool me down and stretch me out. The temperature was already up several degrees from the brisk sixty-five degrees it had been when I left my apartment at 5:30. The sky was showing signs that dawn was not far off. Once the sun cleared the mountains it would heat up fast. According to the weatherman it was only supposed to reach the low nineties. Sure, you bet. I ranked the odds he was right somewhere up around pulling an inside straight flush on the last hand of the Friday night open poker tournament at the Luxor.

Weatherman has got to be one of the coolest gigs out there. Where else can you make that kind of money to be wrong so much of the time? I was born and raised in Southern California and hadn't been in Vegas that long but even I could tell it was going to hit triple digits. According to America's most trusted weather guide, the Farmer's Almanac, October was a month of dramatic change for the area and temperatures would indeed hit his target range. He was just a few weeks early, was all.

I was enjoying the cooler morning air though. The low humidity was a big change from the LA Basin and made running a real joy, but I knew that in a few more weeks those brisk morning temperatures were going to drop below the comfort zone and I would either have to start later or, more likely, find a gym with an indoor track that opened early. But for now it appeared as if my good Karma was continuing.

Or not ... my phone rang just as I got back. Normally that worries me early in the morning.

"Hello?" I answered.

"David? Hi, it's Christine. I was expecting to get your voice mail and I was just going to leave you a message, but this is better. I don't have much time; we're about to start boarding."

"I understand. What's up?"

"Well, I was wondering if you were free for dinner tomorrow night. We're flying back in to Vegas tomorrow and I've got the night off so..." I cut her off.

"Christine, I would love to have dinner with you," I said. "But I don't know if we can do that yet. I need to check with Tony and see if he thinks it's okay. Go ahead and give me your flight information and if he says it's okay I'll pick you up. Either way, I'll text you so you'll know, okay?"

"Okay, but if he says it's okay, you have to promise you won't spoil me like last time. No expensive hotels and I'm buying dinner this time, okay?"

"I can live with that," I said. "So when do you get in?"

Christine Payson was a twenty-six year old flight attendant I had met on my initial trip to Sin City. My plans had been rushed to say the least and the only seat I had been able to get on short notice had been in what they called Business Class. Christine was one of the attendants working the Business and First Class section. It actually was the same section; the only difference was my seat didn't fold out into a penthouse. Jamie, my sister-slash-alter ego, thought she was hot and wanted to meet her, and since we actually had a legitimate reason it had been pretty easy. Over the course of the flight, I convinced her to chaperone me around the city, in exchange for lunch, while I did some shopping. Providence stuck a finger in and we ended up spending the night in a palatial suite at the Bellagio before she flew out the following morning. None of it was planned but everyone was very happy with the way things worked out.

Then her asshole of a pilot had to go and ruin it. The entire flight crew had seen us leaving the airport together. They may not have seen the limo the hotel sent to pick us up, but they had seen me waiting in the terminal for her to deplane, and we had walked out together. Naturally, that sparked speculation, and the following day — after she had failed to check in to the hotel room the airline provided for layovers, the others naturally wanted all the details. It was just girl talk but even a big plane is a small place and when he heard where she had spent the night, Captain Wonderful decided to make an ass of himself. Sometime after he hit on her and after she turned him down he actually went so far as to suggest that it was a money thing. Yeah, he called her a whore, in front of not only the rest of the flight crew but at least two passengers. The co-pilot had actually overheard him telling her that he couldn't afford the whole night but how much for just a blowjob? The guy is slime.

According to my sister, Allison, I hover somewhere between Boy Scout and Knight in Shining Armor, so when I finally got the story out of Christine, my overgrown sense of justice went into overdrive and I called my lawyer. He ended up filing two separate lawsuits, one on Christine's behalf against Captain Dickhead and the airline for sexual harassment, the other against him personally for slander and defamation. The idea was that when he suggested Christine was willing to have sex for money, by extension he was labeling me as someone who consorts with prostitutes, and, since the rest of the flight crew had access to the passenger manifest and therefore my information ... well, you get the picture. The airline would conduct their own interviews but just to make sure they understood how badly they were screwed I had dropped in on the passengers who had witnessed the exchange and, using dreams that were carefully crafted to increase their sense of outrage, given them a little over-night encouragement to contact the airline. One sent an email, the other actually called in a complaint. Of course, I hadn't told Tony about that part. He's that rare exception that allows you to use the words 'ethical' and 'attorney' in the same sentence.

As an attorney looking at a potentially huge settlement, Tony, was a little disappointed that I wasn't interested in going after the brass ring, but he liked my approach and respected my decision. About the settlement, I mean, he had no idea of the tactics I was using to pad the odds. I'm not really a lawsuit kind of guy and I was looking at this as a corrective action, not punitive. Of course if the airline didn't take the settlement offer I had prepared for them then the gloves were off and he was free to handle it however he saw fit. He assured me they would take the offer, and since part of that was a hefty fee for him — one way out of proportion with the amount of time he was actually spending on the case but nothing compared to what he would get if we went to court and got a settlement, he was willing to make the effort.

Most people, including Tony and Christine, know me as David Malcolm, a young and apparently successful young businessman. In fact, I first met Tony — my attorney, Anthony Cicarelli — to discuss setting up a corporation for me. I realized the need when, over dinner, Christine asked me what I did for a living and I had to think fast to come up with something. She had almost choked on her fork when I said, "Bounty Hunter."

I couldn't blame her for the reaction. My most recent growth spurt had left me at the towering height of five-foot-eight and I'm a little on the lean side. Compact is a good word. I'm a lot stronger than I look, but I don't bulge, and according to the people that matter, including Christine, I fill out my clothes nicely. She should know, she helped me pick out most of my current wardrobe. When we met I had two pairs of jeans, several t-shirts, and a couple changes of underwear to my name. I've been running for exercise since I was very young and while I've filled out well, my over-all build reflects it. A year ago I was a bit of a runt, but then, a year ago I was fifteen and a freshman in high school, living at home with Allison and my parents. It's amazing how much my life has changed since then.

I live in the pool-house apartment of an elderly widow that I met while car shopping in Las Vegas. Her husband had developed a gambling problem late in life and left behind enough debt to wipe out his life insurance policy. She also discovered that he had mortgaged their home and now she couldn't afford the payment and was being forced to sell off the house and her husband's car — which was the reason for my visit in the first place — and move in with her daughter. I felt bad for her situation, but it wasn't until I heard about, and saw, the detached apartment and large swimming pool out back that wheels had started turning in my head. The pool had clearly been designed for exercise rather than recreation or aesthetics. Don't get me wrong, it looked great and there was plenty of room to play, but at thirty meters by three it wasn't what you would call stylish. The surrounding patio was all done in stone and if not for the fact that all but the immediate area around the pool was covered it would have been brutally hot in the summer. There were also decorative planters scattered around to give the area some color and life, and misters to cool the area in the heat of summer. He had even had the foresight to hook the misters into the home's water softener so that they wouldn't get plugged up by the minerals in the water.

The pool-house itself was very nicely laid out, but at the moment all I could think was that it still looked empty. In fact, there was very little to suggest that an actual person lived here. I'm not much of a decorator. Go figure. Maybe I should talk to someone about giving the place a makeover. I was sure Doreen would help if I asked her but I didn't think that would be a good idea. Most people tend to stay with what is familiar and comfortable; the last thing I wanted was for the place to remind her of her late husband.

I spent over an hour just putting together a grocery list, and I about died when I got to the grocery store, and realized what it was going to cost me to outfit my new place with just the basics. Thinking of money reminded me that I needed to check on the other account Rene had mentioned before he died. I added that to my list of things to do.

By the time I got back from the grocery store it was almost ten, so I called Tony's office to discuss my conversation with Christine. He confirmed that it would be best if Christine and I didn't see each other just yet. That really bothered me since I had been looking forward to seeing her again, but I could live with it if it meant getting what I wanted for Christine. Tony said that he wanted to meet with her anyway so he would pick her up and explain everything. Well, almost everything; we weren't telling her about the settlement offer we had in mind for the airline.

He also informed me that the preliminary filings for the new companies were done and I owned the names one way or the other. On the advice of my resident genius — my sister Allison — I had asked Tony to set up two new corporations for me. The primary company, Sha-Mar Enterprises, was essentially a holding company for the sub-corporation, Finder's Incorporated, which would be my day-to-day business, allowing me an added layer of privacy to hide behind; ironic, considering David Malcolm wasn't actually hiding but if nothing else, the last six months had taught me that you can't be too careful. Besides, no one knew that David Malcolm owned Sha-Mar; only that Sha-Mar owned Finder's and David ran it.

The names were unique enough that Tony considered it was highly unlikely to hit any obstacles due to someone else already using either of them, or having just thought of a catchy name and licensed it with the idea of selling them if someone else thought of it later. He personally recommended waiting; but said that if I wanted to I could proceed with some of the other steps in getting the business up and running. There wasn't much I could do on the corporate side until I had the tax ID number, but since I was going to have to personally guarantee any corporate purchasing for at least the first year — or until it had established a sufficient credit profile of its own — there was no harm in me spending money.

"Just about anything you want," he had explained. "Within reason that is, can be charged against the corporation for tax purposes and reimbursed if you're paying cash. Just make sure you keep your receipts for your accountant."

He had even offered to recommend a couple. Any city where this much cash was constantly changing hands had to be both an auditing nightmare and a shark-pool for the IRS. A top notch accountant could probably name his price. I decided I'd wait and see what kinds of expenses I was going to be dealing with before I took that step.

The down side of a new identity was that while they had given me some credit, I was still "only" twenty-two — six years older than my actual age — so I didn't have much depth. Not to mention a relatively low limit on my credit card. It's a good thing I'd put all that cash on account over at the Bellagio. My credit card limit wouldn't have covered more than the first two nights. A couple of quick phone calls took care of most of the problem. It's amazing how friendly people get when you throw money at them. Two hundred thousand in a small business account with American Express will get your new Corporate Cards sent overnight, after they talked to your attorney and confirmed all your information of course. I got five cards in the company name. One for me, Allison's under her new identity as Charlotte Montgomery, Lizzy, Amber, and, since things were going so well and I was feeling positive, one for my new secretary. They also gave me a phone number to call if I needed anything before the cards arrived.

Now that that was handled, I made myself a quick sandwich for lunch and headed out to see about getting a couple of cell phones in the company name. I actually ended up with three: one for me, of course, one for my secretary, and a pre-paid just in case I needed something disposable and untraceable on short notice. That one I paid cash for at a kiosk in the mall rather than purchasing through my new cell provider. And of course I still had the phone the FBI had given me. It's hard to be an anonymous source when your cell phone can be traced, so they had provided me with one that couldn't be tracked. I thought about getting phones for Amber and Lizzy on the company as well, but decided to hold off for the time being. I wasn't sure if Lizzy was under contract or not, and it wouldn't save any money getting her a company phone if we had to pay early termination penalties on hers. I wasn't sure Amber even needed one since she would be spending most of her time with Lizzy, so I decided to wait and see what Lizzy thought we should do. I couldn't get one for Allison just yet without raising suspicion; the credit card would remain locked up in the office until I was able to give it to her in person so she could put it away with her other ID. Besides, getting them all phones on the company would be drawing lines connecting them to me; never a good idea when you're in hiding.

The idea of locking up the credit card got me thinking about security and I realized I didn't actually have a way to lock it up. I called Tony and he recommended a cabinet style gun safe.

"They're large enough to handle just about anything you might want or need secured in a home or small business environment, and they're not really that expensive. You can get a basic one for a couple hundred dollars but I wouldn't trust it for anything even moderately important. If you're only interested in security you can stay under a grand but for about twice that you can get something that would protect the contents even if the house was destroyed."

His next question threw me.

"You do much shooting, David?"

"I know which end to hold," I said cautiously, not sure where he was going.

"Ever shoot skeet?"

"No, never really had the chance."

"You ever want to, give me a call, I'll take you out to my club. It's a nice place; we've got indoor and outdoor ranges for pistols and rifles, and a competition trap range."

"Please?" Jamie implored. I could feel her excitement at actually getting to shoot something.

"Sounds like fun, I may have to take you up on that. Where's a good place to shop for a safe?"

"Castle Gun and Safe, as in 'A man's home is his castle'. They carry just about anything you could want; if it's legal, they have it — including tactical gear, storage, ammunition ... They're even licensed to carry belted ammo for the local machine gun club. You ever want to have some serious fun, go to one of their little get-togethers. You can't believe the stuff those guys collect. I was at one a couple years ago; guy had a civil war Gatling-gun."

A surge of adrenaline shot through me.

"Down girl; behave yourself!"

"Sounds like a blast, keep me in mind next time." I told Tony.

"Well, you know what they say, 'happiness is a belt-fed weapon, ' but for a blast... that's the American Cannon Club. Those guys are fucking crazy! Never been to an actual shoot but I watched a piece about them on Discovery. They shoot fifty gallon drums from like a mile away. Depending on the piece it can cost you hundreds of dollars per shot. Not to mention the cost of getting it there. You can't imagine what it costs to get a permit."

"Well, they've got lots of desert to practice in," I said.

"Are you kidding?" he laughed. "And risk disturbing the habitat of some enviro-nut's pet critter? It's insane what these guys go through to get their rocks off. Tina and I go out to the club a couple times a month, let me know if you ever want to come along."

"Your wife shoots?"

"Are you kidding? Annie Oakley, that one. Shoot the asshole out of a jackrabbit running in high gear."

"Like I said, it sounds like fun. Why don't you give me a call next time you're going out?"

"You'll need a date," he said. "Tina doesn't like to be outnumbered, not when she's shooting anyway."

I decided to leave that one alone. "As long as I have a few days notice."

"Done," he said. "I have to meet with a client; I'll let you know if I hear anything from the airline. Just leave a message with Janelle if you need anything else."

We hung up and I contemplated what shopping I still had left to do. I really needed more clothes but I didn't trust my judgment. I had hoped that maybe Christine and I could go out shopping again, but now it looked like that may be delayed and I couldn't really put it off for long. I'm not really part of the suit and tie crowd, but I needed to dress in such a way as to instill confidence in clients and in casual clothes I still looked too close to my real age. In order for the business to be an effective cover I was actually going to have to find some things, or some people. I wanted to work up as quickly as possible to the higher end of the scale, so I didn't actually have to do as much and could devote my time to other things while still making enough money to cover my lifestyle without attracting attention. I wasn't really sure what those other things might be just yet, but surely I could find something constructive to do with my talent. Maybe I should talk to Bob about some career counseling.

There was a knock at the door and, of course, it was Doreen.

"Hi Doreen," I said, opening the door. "Come on in, I've just been trying to get things organized. Did you need something?"

"No, not really, I just wanted to make sure you were settling in okay. Do you need anything?"

"I probably need a lot of things, but I won't know what they are until I miss them. This is my first time setting up a house on my own. I spent most of the day shopping and I've still got more to do. Man, I can't believe how much some of this stuff costs. Especially spices! I used to shop for meals when it was my week to cook at home, but we always had all the other stuff."

She was chuckling pretty good before I finished. "Boys," she said, shaking her head. "Where did you go?"

I thought she was going to hit me when I told her the name of the supermarket.

"Well no wonder!" she exclaimed. "Now you listen to me, you get ready to go shopping again you bring your list to me and I'll go with you. Lord have mercy, I can't believe your momma let you go out by yourself. Now, while we're on the subject, I've been trying to put together a menu for this week, and I wanted to see if there was anything special you might like to have?"

"Doreen, I'm renting your pool house, I don't expect you to cook for me."

"You are new at this. David, there is no sadder thing in this world than trying to cook for one. Two ain't much better, but it's a start, and there is just no good reason for both of us to be sitting and eating alone night after night. Now I understand that you're a busy young man and I certainly don't expect you here every night but, David," her voice took on a bit more texture, "it would surely be nice if you could join me now and then."

I could hear the loneliness in her voice and I suspected she was working hard to keep the tears back as well.

"Weren't we just talking recently about how much it sucked to be alone?" Jamie asked.

"You know Doreen," I said. "You're right, and I do hate eating alone, but I'll only do it on one condition; I buy the groceries." She started to object but I just held up my hand and kept going. "No, that's it, my one and final offer. I will have dinner with you on the nights I'm available and don't have plans, but only if you let me pay for the food. That's the deal, take it or leave it."

"David, now that just wouldn't be right, you paying for everything. I'm eating too, and from the look of it, I eat a whole lot more than you do. How about if you just buy the meat, would that be all right?"

The meat was usually the most expensive part anyway so I decided it was a good compromise. "Okay, I'll do the meat but you have to let me help with the dishes."

"Oh don't be ridiculous," she began but then she caught the look in my eyes. "Okay, you can help with the dishes."

"Good," I said. "Now that that's settled I wanted to talk to you about a few things. I probably should have brought this up sooner. There are some things I feel you should know about my business..."

I knew Lizzy and Amber were expecting me so I turned in early, locking the door and pulling the shades before stepping across into my own private world. They were in the dorm room, cuddled together on Lizzy's bed. Once again Lizzy was anxious and Amber didn't know why. I closed my eyes and sent Elizabeth a daydream of what I had in mind before calling softly, "Amber."

I watched as she relaxed into sleep and then held her there rather than bringing her into dreamspace. It would be more accurate to say that I sent her to an empty dream space that was dark and quiet with nothing for her mind to focus on and just sort of left her floating there.

Once Amber was asleep Lizzy got up and walked to the closet, opened the door, stepped inside and then turned around so she could see the room. Bracing herself in the doorway so she wouldn't fall, she spoke a trigger and dropped into dreamspace with the vision fresh in her mind and then recreated it for me. I replaced her vision with one of my own and overlaid the two in my mind.

I sent Lizzy back and she quickly stepped to the side where she wouldn't be in the way or interfere with the image I was using. This was a big step; moving from the warehouse to the park was astounding but still a short distance. Going from Vegas to LA to spend the night with Allison had been a lot farther but still less than four hundred miles. This was over five times that distance. I took a deep breath and crossed the threshold I had created in my mind.

"That is amazing," Lizzy said, stepping forward again and cuddling up to my side as I exited the closet. "I think it's the coolest thing you've come up with yet; that and the healing thing. Now I can have you here with me anytime we want."

"Yes, and if it weren't for the whole waiting thing, I'd take full advantage of it," I said.

"If we weren't waiting I'd say you damned well better," she said, giving me a little extra squeeze to my ribs for emphasis. "For now, kiss me and I'll leave you two alone for a while. I need to go spend some time with Carol. I've been spending so much time with Amber she's starting to think I don't love her anymore."

Carol was one of Lizzy's newest friends; I'd met her on my one and only visit to Indiana, which was also the very first time I ever met Lizzy — which was really weird considering we were already engaged by then. Carol was also her patient, or one of them anyway — I keep a safe distance from that part of her life. Carol had some issues from her past that Lizzy was trying to get her over. Carol had never actually mentioned them but that didn't prevent Lizzy from not only knowing they were there, but seeing the pain they were causing her. She had asked me to make her a key that allowed her access to Carol's dreams so she could try and figure out what was going on. It was the same approach we had used to figure out Angela's problem not so long before, but we hadn't talked about it since then.

"I didn't think you'd gotten that far along yet," I said.

"We haven't, and I've sort of been hoping she would miss me enough to move a little farther along. I'm meeting her in her dorm so we can study. Now that she's seen me with Amber there are no more illusions and she can't deny what she sees when I look at her. We've still got a ways to go, but I think maybe soon she'll be ready to let her guard down a little and talk to me. If I could just get her to kiss me..."

"I could send Jamie along; if she does kiss you it'll be a repeat of us at Frankie's that first night. Just whatever you do, don't kiss her while Jamie is inside her!"

"Spoil sport!" Jamie complained.

"Don't joke about that sis. We can't take the chance that I may not be the only one that has that affect on you. It was a damn good thing it was Allison that first time. It scares me to think what would have happened if it had been Britney."

"Afraid she might never forgive you? More likely she'd never let you out of her sight."

"That's not an improvement in my mind," I replied. "It would be rape, Jamie, no different than if I'd slipped something in her drink to make her horny. Even if she liked it and wanted it again, that's not my idea of consensual."

"I know," she said. "And I'm sorry. You're right and I shouldn't joke about it."

"Must be serious if it actually required a conversation with Jamie," Lizzy said, having correctly guessed the reason for my sudden silence. "Are you telling her to behave herself? Because she doesn't have to with me you know."

"I think she does for this," I replied. "Remind me and I'll explain later. Just be damned sure you know where Jamie is at all times."

"Hmmm, sounds interesting. I'd say I'll keep an eye on her but if it's that serious I won't need to. She's may be a bitch but she's a good girl. I'll see you..." she gave me a little poke in the chest and then pulled me in close. " ... later. Tell Amber not to wait up. I love you."

"I love you too."

We kissed, Jamie taking advantage of the contact to merge with her, and they left. I locked the door behind her and then went to wake Angela up. Of course the idea was that she wouldn't be able to tell if it was real or a dream, so as far as she was concerned she was transitioning into a dream with me that just happened to be taking place in her dorm. Lizzy was looking forward to her reaction when she found out the truth in the morning.

Whatever happened with Carol, Lizzy didn't come back until morning. Jamie showed up after a couple hours and informed me that things were going well.

I hid out in the closet the next morning after Lizzy came in and watched through the slatted door as she woke Amber up.

"Good morning Mistress," she said, stretching. "Did I oversleep?"

"No," Lizzy said, bending down and kissing her. "How do you feel?" She asked.

"Tired," Amber answered, stretching again. "It's strange; I don't normally feel this way after spending time with my Master. I usually feel rested and refreshed but this time I'm tired and ... ow!" she said, grimacing slightly. "Ugh, and my legs are sore."

"So you're saying this morning you actually feel like you spent the night getting your brains fucked out?"

Amber made a face and said, "Yeah, I do." She giggled and it was clearly Angela speaking now. It's a subtle difference but I could always tell who she was moment to moment. I often wondered if this was what it was like dealing with someone who truly had multiple personalities. Amber had started as a cover identity while Angela was in hiding, but after Angela's submissive nature became apparent it just made it easier for her to use 'Amber' as the host for that side of herself. Her control was so good that it was like flipping a switch as she moved in and out of character. Most of the time she was Amber, especially when she was with us in public, but alone she was free to be her old self if she chose.

"Don't get me wrong, it's a wonderful ache and I wish it was real, but I don't usually react this way to ... you know. Do you think maybe it's because I was Angela all night and she's not used to it?"