Page 15 of A Dangerous Vision

“What is it?” she asked.

But when she looked into his eyes, she knew it was more than a new case. It was personal. Gideon had always been difficult for her to read with her abilities. Indeed, she rarely tried as she had tonight, as it seemed like a boundary he would not wish her to cross. However, their long-standing friendship meant she could discern a great deal from a mere glance at his face.

His expression tonight was the same sharp, yet reserved look that he often wore when the conundrum of new case was consuming his thoughts, yet there was more.

“Electra, I’m sorry,” he said before any form of greeting, then glanced at the clock.

Ah, yes, it was regret she saw in his brown eyes.

She tipped a look back at the mantel clock too. The hour hand was edging past eight.

He stepped closer, hesitated, then laid his hand gently against her arm. Without thinking, she placed her bare hand over his, having laid her gloves aside while she waited for him.

“Tell me what’s happened,” she said softly.

A little jolt made her stiffen her spine and then images arose. A man lying on rain-soaked pavement. A middle-aged man with dark hair and chiseled features, his eyes closed, lips blue. A bloody kerchief clutched in Gideon’s hand.

“I'm afraid we won't be able to have our dinner this evening,” he said, dispelling the images as quickly as they’d arisen.

“You have a new case.”

“I do, and I suspect I’ll be at the station late into the evening. I may have to wake the chief himself, due to the sensitive nature of this matter. And I am sorry. I regret that our dinner must be⁠—”

“I understand,” Electra said, cutting off further apology. “Of course, I understand. You know that I do.” Her father had been diligent, devoting extra hours to his work without a second thought and with as much fierce determination as Gideon did.

He gave her a weak smile. “I knew you would.”

“Shall I save your birthday present until we can have our dinner?”

He looked behind her and spied the wrapped gift on the table. A rare softness came into his eyes. “Yes, save it until we can dine together, but I cannot promise when that will be.” The softness fled and he wore a stern look again.

“Again, I understand, and you know where to find me.” Electra spoke the words with a teasing tone she couldn’t seem to help using with him.

Yet, he didn’t respond in the same jovial manner. “There is more, Electra.” He fell silent, as if he wished to put off whatever he needed to say. He looked down and then at the wall. Anywhere but at her.

Finally, he sunk his hand into his coat pocket, and when he pulled it out again, there was something between his fingers. A piece of paper that looked half crumpled, a bit warped at the edges, as if it had gotten wet.

“This is one of your calling cards, is it not?” he said as he held up the small rectangle of paper.

“Yes. A little worn around the edges, but yes. As you can see.” Electra couldn't remember ever giving Gideon one of her cards.

“It spent some time in the rain,” he explained.

Last year, during the Becknell case, one of her calling cards had led him to discover her connection to the case, but she couldn’t imagine he’d kept it in his possession all this time. And even if he had, why present it to her now?

“Why are you showing it to me?”

He lowered his arm, slipping the card back into his coat pocket. “A man was found this evening on Mount Street, and this card, your card, was found clutched in his hand.”

Electra’s heart started beating harder. “What man?”

“His name is Percival Pennington, a Queen’s Counsel.” His eyes had hardened, and he stared at her without blinking. “He was cut down in the street. Stabbed and left for dead.”

She knew what he was doing. He was watching for a reaction. It was a bit like being observed by a hawk or some other bird of prey.

“Did you have a session with Pennington today or at some other time?”

“No, I do not recognize that name.”