Ridge Fisher sat down at his desk, combed his hand roughly through his short, dark brown hair, and sighed loudly. He had just finished performing one of the most difficult tasks of his job, that of taking family members to identify the dead body of someone who had been close to them - their husband or wife, father or mother, son or daughter, brother or sister. He thanked God that his education as a nurse had prepared him to deal with grieving families. Yet, even with that training, it remained one of the hardest aspects of the profession he'd chosen.

When he left trauma nursing and became a death investigator, he'd thought that he left behind the necessity of having to deal with grieving families, assuming that someone else would be handling that side of things. Boy had he been wrong. To investigate a death properly necessitated contact with the family and loved ones of the deceased, and that contact included having to take families into the viewing room to identify the remains of their departed family member, which were sometimes not in very good condition.

He had just been with Helen and Tom Donaldson as they viewed the body of their only daughter, Janet. No viewing was ever easy, but the difficulty of it was exacerbated when the decedent had been decapitated. Even though she had already been positively identified through her fingerprints, it was better if that identification could be backed up by a visual identification from someone who knew her.

Janet had obviously been well loved, because her parents were taking her death extremely hard. Her mother had gone on about what a wonderful and talented teacher she had been, and that all of her students adored her. She tearfully told him that the reason her daughter had been such a good teacher was because of her ability to understand her students.

His musings were interrupted by a knock on his office door. "Come in," he called out.

The door opened and Jennifer, one of the autopsy assistants, stepped in. "Hi, Ridge. Dr. Mendoza wanted me to tell you that he's going to start the Donaldson autopsy in about ten minutes," the willowy and buxom blonde stated in a breathy tone.

"Thanks, Jennifer. Tell him I'll be right there," he said with a smile.

He watched as she turned and walked seductively out of the room, and chuckled to himself after the door had closed. She had been after him since he came to work here. To be honest, she was an extremely attractive woman, and she brought all that attractiveness to bear as she attempted to seduce him with her womanly wiles. Too bad the effort was entirely wasted on him, since he wasn't attracted to her in the slightest.

His heart was already taken. His expression became dreamy as he thought about the person who had ensnared his soul, Chase. The straight Sheriff's Department Investigator was his best friend, and was totally clueless to the fact that Ridge was in love with him. He'd never felt this way before. Chase and he just clicked. They liked the same things, and he would swear that sometimes Chase knew what he was thinking before he did. It was both scary and exciting at the same time.

The man was absolutely beautiful. He was of average height, had thick, blondish-brown hair that beckoned him to run his fingers through it, and had a face that would make Helen of Troy feel inadequate. Chase's very presence exuded raw masculinity, and that was the most attractive thing about him. Ridge wasn't attracted to swishy men who were more feminine than some women he knew. No, if he wanted a woman he'd find a real one, like Jennifer. He wanted a manly man, and Chase definitely fit the bill.

A frown suddenly appeared on his face, replacing the silly smile. He didn't know how much longer he was going to be able to keep his feelings to himself. Every time he was around Chase, all he wanted to do was take the other man into his arms and explore his body, making slow, passionate love to him. Alas, it could never be. Being near Chase was becoming so painful, he was even contemplating terminating their friendship in order to preserve his sanity, but that would never work because he'd still have to interact with him on the job with him. If he had to see Chase day after day and not be able to speak with the other man, it would literally kill him.

Just then there was another knock at his door. "Come in," he called out once again, slightly annoyed at having his thoughts interrupted.

The door opened, and in walked the man of his dreams. "Chase, what are you doing here?" he asked brusquely.

"That's some welcome. I thought my best friend would be happy to see me," Chase said with grin.

"I am, always," Ridge replied with grin of his own. "I'm just surprised, that's all. I wasn't expecting you."

"I wasn't expecting to be here, either. You know how much I hate autopsies, but Sole thought that one of us should be present, and I'm the one who got picked," Chase responded with a shiver of disgust.

"Don't worry, you big baby. I'm going to be there, too, and if you pass out I'll catch you," Ridge said in a playful, mocking tone.

"You promise?" Chase asked, his blue eyes betraying his genuine apprehension.

"Always," Ridge answered sincerely as he locked his gaze with the man he considered his best friend, but wished was so much more.

"Thanks, buddy. I can always count on you," Chase said, holding Ridge's stare.

Ridge felt a lump rise in his throat. He was so close to getting out of his chair, walking over to Chase, and kissing him senseless. Instead, he tore his eyes away from the other man's and looked at his watch. "Well, uh, we'd better get going. Dr. Mendoza is going to start the autopsy any moment," he said as he got up from his chair and led them out of the room.

When Alex heard the handcuffs click into place, and Zach reading him his rights, a pall of gloom and despair descended over him. Damn! He should've just ignored his vision. The Texas Rangers were handling the investigation, and they were among the best in the world. They would eventually catch this guy and bring him to justice. They didn't need him. Yet, his conscience had kicked in and gotten him into trouble. His grandmother had been wrong. His visions weren't a gift, they were a curse. Now, because of them he was being arrested for a crime he didn't commit, and when this hit the press his career would be over. Oh, God, what was he going to do?

His mind slipped back to the first time he'd ever told anyone he was gay. He'd been sixteen years old. He hadn't had to tell Ariel. She knew him so well that she'd realized it before he did. She had encouraged him to tell his family, but he'd been afraid. He finally worked up the courage to tell his beloved grandmother. After he delivered the news, he'd braced himself for revulsion and rejection, but none was forthcoming. Instead, his grandmother had enveloped him in her arms, told him that she loved him, and that her fondest wish for him was a life full of love. She told him it didn't matter whether that love came from a man or a woman.

When he'd asked her whether or not he should come out publicly, she had quoted her favorite philosopher, Dolly Parton, who had once said that 'one should find out who they are, and do it on purpose'. She then proceeded to tell him that he had two choices. He could be a courageous man who accepted himself and demanded that others accept him as well, or he could be a coward, and lie to himself and those around him.

In his mind's eye, he could see his grandmother telling him in that no-nonsense way of hers that her advice applied to what was happening to him now, as well. He could take this like a man, knowing that the truth would eventually win out, or he could be a coward, and allow the shame of the situation to overwhelm him. Deciding on the former, he took a deep breath to prepare himself for what was to come, and then squared his shoulders and held his head high.

Zach had just taken him by the arm to lead him from the interview room when a sharp pain pierced his groin, causing him to double over from the sheer agony of it. It was an ache that every man in the world was familiar with, but of which women had no intimate knowledge - the horrific pain that only came from a blow to the testicles. Why would Zach have kicked him in the groin? Law enforcement officers weren't supposed to treat their prisoners that way.

When the throbbing began to subside, he discovered that he was no longer in the interview room of the Collin County Sheriff's Department, but was outside and he lying on the ground. He slowly rose to his knees and scanned his surroundings. From what he could ascertain, he was at what appeared to be a rock quarry. He was so engrossed in scrutinizing the area around him that the coarse voice coming from behind caused him to jump.

"If you try to run away again, boy, I'll do more than kick you in the balls, I'll cut 'em off."

He twisted around, looking for the source of the voice, and what he found chilled him to the bone. Standing in front of him was the killer from his previous vision. He was wearing the same mirrored aviator-style sunglasses, and the face Alex saw reflected down at him was not his own. It was the face of an extremely frightened boy of about twelve or thirteen years of age.

"Boy, I'd advise you to be a man and accept your fate. You have been convicted of crimes of the mind, and must face the consequences of your actions," the killer said, and then his mouth formed into an evil smirk.

Once again, Alex heard himself pleading for his life, but just like last time, his pleas went unheard. The man grabbed him by the hair and jerked his head forward, exposing the back of his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the killer raise the machete in his left hand and bring it swiftly downwards.

Just as the blade began to slice through his neck, Alex felt something cold and wet against his face. He automatically closed his eyes in an effort to protect them, and when he reopened them, he was sitting in a chair back in the Sheriff's Department's interview room. Both Zach and Sole were kneeling next to him, and they were staring at him with obvious concern. Sole had a wet washcloth with which she was wiping his face.

"Mr. Marshall, are you all right? Do you have these type of seizures often?" Zach asked in a rush of words.

"It wasn't a seizure, you idiot," Sole broke in angrily, her comment addressed to Zach. Then turning to Alex she inquired, "It was a another vision, wasn't it? Did it have something to do with our case?"

"Oh, Sole, come on! Enough of this 'vision' nonsense! I don't understand why you can't see that he's feeding us a line of bullshit!" Zach exclaimed as he quickly rose to his feet, his frustration plain to see.

Sole stood, and said in a voice that brooked no-nonsense, "Zach, I need to speak with you in the hall. Alex, again I must ask you to please excuse us. We'll be right back."

They stepped into the hall and, as soon as the door closed behind them, Sole moved so that she was standing right in front of Zach. Since she was four inches shorter than he, she had to look up at him, but that didn't deter her from the mission of putting him in his place. Poking her finger into his chest, she said in a voice filled with anger, "Zach, the only one here spouting bullshit is you! Just because you don't believe in something, doesn't mean that it's not real. I don't know why you're acting like this, but it's going to stop, and it's going to stop now. You can start by taking those cuffs off him because you have no legal grounds on which to arrest him. Captain Fuller may have placed us both in charge of this task force, but if you want to get technical, I was the Ranger on call, and I just brought you along for the ride. So, you see, I have seniority in this case, and even though I don't want to, I will exercise it if necessary. Is that clear?"

Zach was hurt by Sole's harangue and it showed in his expression. Nevertheless, he nodded his head in affirmation, and said in a tight voice, "Yes, perfectly."

When Sole saw the hurt reflected on Zach's face, guilt and regret began to develop within her, and she feared she had been too harsh on him. Reaching out, she grabbed his hand and held it. She looked him in the eyes and said, "Zach, I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I didn't know how else to get through to you. I've never seen you this close-minded before. You're my best friend and I love you, but I can't let you keep acting like an idiot. Is there something going on with you that I should know about?"

At Sole's question, his mind flashed back to something that had happened when he was a teenager. He had been fifteen years old and he was attending a funeral. He remembered feelings of grief and anger. Instantly, he realized why he had been so enraged by Alex's claim about having visions. It was all tied into an event that had happened twenty years ago.

"Sole, you're right, I have been close-minded, and I just realized why," he answered her.

"Well, you're going to have to tell me since I don't read minds, and even if I could, I would never attempt to read a man's mind. I might get trapped in that porn video you guys call a brain," she said with a grin in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Men don't think about sex all the time, just the majority of it." He grinned back at her. His grin dissolved, and his facial expression again became serious. "Sole, the reason I've been so hard on Alex is because of my Aunt Rachel."

Sole's confusion was written all over her face. "Zach, I've met most of your family, and I don't recall you ever introducing me to an Aunt Rachel. I also don't remember you ever mentioning her before."

"That's because she died when I was fifteen years old. She was my mother's little sister, and she was only ten years older than me. Since we weren't that far apart in age, we were more like brother and sister than aunt and nephew. I simply adored her, and I thought that she could do no wrong. However, unbeknownst to me, she had an obsession with psychics. From the time she was eighteen years old she never made a move without consulting one of those charlatans. They all had their hands out for her money, and believe me, there was quite a bit of it. She had a great aunt named Hortense who had never married and who hated everyone, and everyone hated her in return. They only tolerated her because she was filthy rich and they hoped to be included in her will. The only exception to Hortense's ire was Aunt Rachel. Hortense loved Rachel from the moment she was born. Rachel had that effect on people," he said with a smile on his face and tears in his eyes at the same time.

After wiping his eyes, he continued. "When Hortense died, she surprised everyone by leaving her entire forty million dollar fortune to eighteen year-old Rachel. It was at this time that she became infatuated with psychics. Over the next seven years she squandered one fourth of her inheritance on what she called her 'psychic advisors'. Fortunately, she was wise enough not to give them all her money. Around her twenty-fifth birthday she was beginning to feel lonely, and longed for someone to share her life and fortune with. She went to one of those con artists who call themselves psychics, and asked when she would find her true love. The so-called psychic told her that she would never find love, and that she should concentrate on loving herself. Aunt Rachel became so depressed by the impostor's prediction, she spiraled into a despair that she never came out of. She committed suicide six months later," he recounted with more tears in his eyes.

Sole sighed deeply. Zach was her best friend and she hurt when he hurt. "Zach, I'm so sorry. Your aunt's death was a tragedy that should never have happened, but you can't blame it on Alex. There are a lot of frauds out there who call themselves psychics, but that doesn't mean that all psychics are frauds. Alex could possibly be the real thing."

Zach's expression was dubious. Arching an eyebrow, he asked, "What makes you think that?"

"Well, for one thing, he said that he's been having visions since he was thirteen years old, yet he has never made his abilities publicly known. I know that because he is my favorite author, and of the many interviews he's given, either on television or in print, the topic of him being a psychic has never come up. You've dealt with the press before. Have you ever known them to let something like that go? Hell, no! They'd be all over it like vultures. And another thing, he hasn't asked us for any money, and I don't think he will. He makes a great living from selling his novels. You could also tell from his mannerisms that he was hesitant about coming here, and that his only concern is bringing this murderer to justice," she stated in a calm, logical manner.

Still not totally convinced, he replied, "I don't know. It seems rather farfetched to me."

Sole chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Zach, do you trust me?" she asked.

"Sole, of course I do. You know that."

"Well, then, please trust me now. I'm not asking you to trust in Alex's visions, I'm asking you to trust in me. Can you do that?" she pleaded.

"Yes. I may not believe in this psychic drivel, but I do believe in you. I'll behave myself from now on, I promise," he said with sincerely.

Sole smiled, and squeezed his hand. "Thank you. By the way, what happened to the rest of your Aunt Rachel's money?"

"She left twenty million to some university that does psychic research," he replied with a frown.

"Where did the last ten million dollars go?"

Zach smiled slyly, and then responded, "Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies."

"You dog! Are you saying that after all the cups of coffee and meals I've bought you, you have ten million dollars in the bank?" she asked mock-angrily.

"I don't recall saying that at all," he said with a look of innocence on his face.

"All right, Mr. Moneybags, you're buying dinner tonight," she said, and then punched him lightly in the arm. She then looked towards the interview room and stated, "We need to go back in there now and really listen to what Alex has to say, okay?"

After Zach and Sole left the room, Alex leaned forward, rested his forehead on the table, and allowed himself a few brief moments of self-pity. Why was this happening to him? It wasn't like he asked for this talent. Rather, it had been thrust upon him without his consent. He had worked hard at learning to not only accept it, but to use it for the benefit of others. Now he was offering to utilize his psychic abilities to help the police stop a killer, but did they listen? Hell, no! Instead of thanking him, they slapped handcuffs on him, which, by the way, were causing his wrists to throb. He flexed his fingers hoping it would help ease the pain a little, but it did nothing to alleviate his discomfort.

He was also reeling from the vision he'd just had. Experiencing that woman die had been bad enough, but now that bastard had killed a child. How could anyone harm a child, especially when that child was begging for his life? He didn't know how much more of this he could take. He'd always believed that he was made of sterner stuff and could handle anything, but the thought of having more visions of people dying violent deaths made him question that belief.

To add insult to injury, Texas Ranger Zach Sluder - who was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen - thought that Alex had to be guilty of murder, since there was no way he could actually possess a psychic capability. It was Zach's behavior towards him that hurt him the most. Alex just didn't understand it. He was a very strong individual. In fact, he was so strong-minded that his sister and Ariel often accused him of being overbearing.

Normally, he would never allow someone to treat him the way that Zach had. If anyone else had behaved towards him the way the Texas Ranger was, they would be adding felony assault of a law enforcement officer to the charges against him. However, for some unknown reason, what Zach thought of him mattered a great deal to Alex. He wanted the other man to believe in him and his ability. He also desperately needed Zach to respect him as a person.

Fortunately, Sole seemed sympathetic towards him. He didn't know if she believed that he truly had visions or not, but she was definitely more open-minded than Zach. Then again, she could just be the good cop in the good cop/bad cop scenario, but he didn't think so. There was something about her that spoke of integrity and goodness. He liked her. She reminded him of Ariel. God help him if the two ever actually met!

The sound of the door opening alerted him to the fact that Sole and Zach were on their way back into the interview room. Raising his head from the table, he positioned himself so that he was sitting up straight in his chair. Even though things didn't look good for him, he was determined to face whatever was to come in a dignified manner.

Zach entered first, followed closely by Sole. Sole sat back down in the chair that she had previously occupied, but Zach walked around behind his chair and leaned over him. Even though Zach was no longer in Alex's line of vision he could sense the Texas Ranger's presence, and could feel Zach's hot breath on the back of his neck. He was almost trembling from the sexual excitement that was coursing throughout his entire body.

Alex heard Zach move behind him, and felt the Texas Ranger's fingers touch his, and then move up his hands until they reached the metal restraints. He sensed more movement, and then suddenly the handcuffs were no longer binding him. The restrictive pressure on his wrists was immediately relieved, but a phantom of pain still lingered. Alex was surprised when Zach's fingers begin to soothingly rub the tender skin of his aching and sore wrists. Even though he was reasonably sure that Zach's actions were only meant to alleviate any discomfort that had been caused by the handcuffs, there was a sensualness about his touch that left Alex breathless.

This was definitely a departure from the Texas Ranger's earlier conduct. What was he up to? Did this mean that Zach finally believed him? Or was it only a ploy meant to lure him into some kind of trap? Alex had no idea, but Zach's abrupt change in behavior was throwing him for a loop.

The sudden reverberation in his ear of the Texas Ranger's deep, masculine, and overwhelmingly sexy voice caused him to shiver with delight. "Mr. Marshall, my partner has wisely pointed out that I had no legal grounds on which to arrest you. Therefore, I apologize for any embarrassment that I may have caused you, and I would also like to apologize for any rudeness I may have displayed towards you. I let my personal feelings concerning psychics overshadow my professionalism. So, I would appreciate it tremendously if you could find it in your heart to forgive me. I still can't say that I believe in psychics, but I am willing to hear what you have to say," Zach stated with sincerity as he continued to massage Alex's wrists.

Alex swallowed hard. It was difficult to think rationally with Zach touching him the way that he was. "Of course, I can forgive you. Any sane, rational human being would have trouble accepting what I've been telling you. As I told you earlier, I even have trouble believing it myself sometimes, but whether or not you believe is irrelevant. There is a murderer out there, and he has just killed again. The only thing that matters is stopping him. Sgt. Sluder." Alex turned in his chair so that he was able to look Zach in the eyes, and then continued. "In the past, my visions have always been proven true, and I have no doubt that they will be this time, as well. I would suggest that you suspend your disbelief, and let me help you so that maybe we can keep this monster from killing again," he said emphatically.

Zach dropped Alex's wrist and immediately stood up. He came around and sat down on the table beside Alex, so that his back was to Sole and he was facing Alex. "What do you mean, the killer has just killed again?" he asked urgently.

"It was the vision you just had a few minutes ago, wasn't it?" Sole jumped in.

"Yes, a boy of about twelve or thirteen years of age was just killed a few minutes ago," Alex stated with tears shimmering in his eyes. "I just feel so helpless. I'm there when it's happening, and there's not a damned thing I can do about it. That woman from my first vision, and this boy were so scared. They were both begging for their lives, and that bastard just smirked as he cut off their heads." Tears were now streaking down his face.

Zach could hear the genuine pain in Alex's voice, and his tears seemed authentic. He wanted to reach out and gently wipe away his tears, and give comfort to the beautiful man sitting in front of him. Could he actually be telling the truth? Was he really having psychic visions? This was all so confusing. He'd always believed that all claims of supernatural powers were fraudulent, but now he wasn't so sure. Oh, Hell! He didn't know what to believe. This was just all so exasperating. He was a Texas Ranger, dammit! This wasn't something he was trained to deal with.

"Alex," Sole's voice cut through Zach's thoughts. "You said this new murder happened just a few minutes ago. Do you have any idea where?"

"I'm not sure exactly. It looked like we were in a rock quarry," Alex said tearfully.

"A rock quarry?" Zach asked, breaking back into the conversation. "The only rock quarry that I know of in this area is west of here, off U.S. Highway 380."

"Was there anything else in your vision that we need to know about?" Sole inquired eagerly.

"Yeah, in my first vision the killer didn't say anything, but in this last one he actually spoke."

"What did he say?" Zach asked, getting caught up in the enthusiasm.

"He said that the boy had been convicted of crimes of the mind, and that he needed to face the consequences of his actions," Alex replied.

Zach felt his convictions begin to shred. The notes that had been found at the murders eleven years ago, and from the one this morning, were never released to the public. How did Alex know about that phrase 'crimes of the mind'? There was only one way to prove if what Alex was telling them was the truth. "Come on, Mr. Marshall. We're going to that rock quarry and see if what you're saying has any merit," he said forthrightly.

"Uh...okay," Alex agreed, though he didn't think he had a choice.

"Zach, I think we should take Chase and Ridge with us, just in case," Sole suggested.

"I think that's a good idea," Zach concurred.

"Good, I'll call them at the Medical Examiner's Office and ask them to meet us at the rock quarry," she stated as she got up from her chair and hurried out of the room.

Alex looked at Zach and asked, "So, Sgt. Sluder, does this mean that you believe me now?"

"No, not exactly. It only means that I don't disbelieve you," Zach answered truthfully. "Now, come on, let's get going."

Sole turned her SUV off the highway and onto the dirt road that would take them to the rock quarry. Chase and Ridge were following behind them. When they arrived at the quarry, she parked and Ridge pulled his car up beside her SUV, then they all got out. "Does any of this look familiar, Alex?" Sole inquired.

"Yes, it does. I think we need to walk in this direction." He pointed to the south.

Chase looked at Ridge and arched an eyebrow. Leaning over close to the other man, he whispered, "Do you know what's going on?"

"Haven't a clue," Ridge whispered back as he went to the trunk of the car to get the two cases which carried the items he would need to perform a preliminary examination of a dead body.

Chase rushed over and, like an eager teenaged boy wanting to carry his girlfriend's books, he offered, "Would you like some help with those?"

Ridge smiled warmly at him. "Thanks, buddy, that would be great if you could carry one of them. I don't know how far we'll have to walk, and their combined weight can get pretty heavy. Have I ever told you how grateful I am to have you for my best friend? You're always there when I need you," he said with deep longing reflected in his eyes.

"And I always will be," Chase responded, and then reached for one of the cases.

They had walked for about five hundred feet when they came upon the body of the boy. "Oh, my God. That's him," Alex said as all the blood drained from his face and he stumbled backwards. He would have fallen to the ground if Zach hadn't been behind him and caught him in his strong embrace.

"Are you all right?" Zach asked him, concerned.

Alex took several deep breaths in an effort to calm his queasy stomach, and clung to the comfort of the Texas Ranger's sheltering arms. "No, but I will be. I write about this stuff, but it's the first time I've actually seen something like this. Just give me a few seconds and I'll be fine," he assured the other man.

Zach smiled at him. "The first time I responded to a murder scene, I thought I was going to puke out my internal organs. So, I understand completely. I need to go to work, though. Will you be all right?" he asked again, and at Alex's nod, released him from his arms. He then walked over closer to where the boy's body was.

Sole came and stood next to him, and said, "Someone needs to call this in."

"I'll do that," Chase stated putting the case he was carrying down and then reaching into the pocket of his raid jacket for his mobile phone.

Ridge picked up the case Chase had put down, carried it and the one he already held over to the body, and placed them next to the murdered boy. He looked over at Zach and Sole, and asked, "Is it all right if I go ahead and began my preliminary examination?"

"That'll be fine," Zach answered him. "Can you give us an approximate time of death?"

He opened one of the cases, retrieved a pair of rubber gloves, and put them on. "Yeah, but give me a moment though, I have to take an axillary temp," he said as he reached in his kit and took out a thermometer. He placed it in the boy's right armpit, and then began the rest of his exam. After five minutes he removed the thermometer and read it. Looking up at Zach he said, "From the body temp I'd estimate he's only been dead for about two hours."

Zach then turned to Sole, and said, "Since Alex has been with us for over two hours, it appears I may have to rethink some of my presumptions about psychics."