“…Come into the bedroom,” Chief Berkal ordered. “The photographer is done, but the forensic guy is still working, so don’t touch anything.”

Samantha…followed him down the hall and into the large master bedroom. “You may note…the rug by the bed…shows blood stains,” the chief said. “We’ve got a sample and will determine if it’s (Mr.) Goldstone’s. Probably is. What’s strange is there are no indications of blood anywhere else in the bedroom or bathroom, or for that matter anywhere else in the house. There appears to have been a struggle after he got out of bed, because the bed had been slept in. I didn’t know him personally – only by reputation. Would he have been capable of putting up a fight?”

“Very capable, chief…He’s in his sixties, but trim and fit. He appeared to be in excellent condition; at least he was when I saw him a month or so ago. He’s a Vietnam veteran with medals, so I don’t think he’d balk at protecting himself….”

…Samantha…began moving about the room. It appeared a substantial battle had taken place based on the room’s disarray, but somehow it appeared orchestrated. Or felt orchestrated. It was her gift kicking in. Since she was a small girl her extrasensory perception haunted her. She would know things that weren’t mean to be known, or shouldn’t be known, to her. It frightened her at first, until her father explained that sometimes special people were given exceptional gifts… and they had to be kept secret…because people tend to fear what they don’t understand. “In Salem, they used to hang or burn witches, as you recall….”

And her gift was at work now. Strange things had happened here, and Goldstone was gone – because he wanted to be gone. Why the attempt to make it look like an abduction? Why the blood? Whose blood is it? She didn’t have the answers, only the questions. And she couldn’t divulge her beliefs to the authorities…because they were only feelings, not evidence….

And the investigation began….