Exton

"Interesting that so common a thing should be connected with so dark a deed." I contemplate but do not touch the ring nested in its bed of tissue. "While I myself do not possess the skills you require, I know of a woman who may be able to help. Have I your permission to send this to her?" Erik nods, his eyes dark and haunted - yet there ìs a hint of the berserker there, too.

I busy myself making the arrangements to ship the ring. Tissue and all go into a tiny plastic zip bag, then thìs again into a small shipping box. My computer provides the address I need and a printed label ìs generated. "Sibyl St. John is a remarkable woman. Psychic, deep-trance medium, gifted psychometrìst; the Salem Police Department keeps her on retainer as a consultant, particularly in cases involving missing persons. She was rendered sightless in an auto accident that took the life of her husband, David St. John. That was some five or six years ago; David now serves as her spirit guide while a half-wolf service dog, Saint, serves her in place of her eyes.

Though she is in her early fifties, she is still quite a fine figure of a woman; when last I saw her, she reminded me of Christine Baranski, but with dark glasses. Owing to her blindness, her self-defense capabilities are minimal. Saint's, however, are not - as the occasional would-be purse-snatcher has learned to his sorrow."

I hand Raina the completed package. "If you will good enough to drop this off at the nearest Federal Express office, we may perhaps come a step nearer to bringing the wretch who assaulted your friend before the bar of justice."

Erik's voice is a growl. "Just set him within reach of my sword, sorceror, and the bar of justice can take care of itself."