Outsiders. Part 2

Yazhi turned back and pretended to absorb herself in the act of folding her clothes. She didn't want to have this discussion-couldn't explain even to herself why she felt compelled to go as soon as she'd seen the announcement of the exhibit on the photographer's web site. After all, it had been more than a year since that fateful encounter in the canyon. She only knew that she had to do it.

Eventually, she heard Ben shuffle out of the room. Yazhi sat on the bed and rubbed her hands over her face. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. When she felt completely calm and centered, she zipped the bag, hoisted it over her shoulder, and headed out the door.

Renee blew an errant strand of hair out of her eyes. She'd meant to get it cut, but she'd been so preoccupied with getting the show ready that she hadn't gotten around to it yet.

"Tilt that shadow spot up a little, would you?"

The crew member to whom Renee addressed the instruction grunted and did as instructed.

Renee recognized the man's frustration in his body posture, but she didn't care. It was her show, and she wanted everything just right. She hadn't gotten to be one of the most celebrated landscape photographers in the world by worrying about the hired help's feelings. What was the point of taking spectacular photographs if they were poorly displayed?

"Why don't you get out of here? Everything's under control."

"What you really mean to say is," Renee commented, turning to face gallery owner Sabrina Devreaux, "'get the h.e.l.l out of my hair and stop alienating my people.'"

Sabrina laughed. "Something like that. Besides, you look like a mutt. When's the last time you had a haircut?"

Because Sabrina was the closest thing Renee had to a friend, she resisted the urge to make a smart retort. "I was getting around to it."

Sabrina made a show of looking at her watch. "You have four hours until you have to be back here. I suggest you use the time wisely." She patted Renee on the cheek affectionately. "Wouldn't want you to scare away prospective buyers."

"Heaven forbid," Renee said as she shrugged into her bomber jacket and shouldered her bag. "I'll see you later." She kissed Sabrina on the cheek and headed for the door.

As she pulled away, Sabrina grabbed her wrist. Renee squirmed under the weight of Sabrina's penetrating gaze. "This is your best work yet, you know. It's phenomenal." She stroked her finger along Renee's jaw and then ran her fingers through her hair. "I'm very, very glad you didn't die getting these. It would've been such a loss."

Renee swallowed hard at the note of undisguised l.u.s.t in Sabrina's voice. It had been a long time since she'd had s.e.x. Renee shook her head. They'd been down this road before, and although Sabrina was an energetic lover, she wanted more of Renee than she was willing to give. Without another word, she pulled away and hustled out the door.

Yazhi sat on the bed in her hotel room and chewed her lip. Maybe this trip wasn't such a great idea, after all. Yes, she'd felt the pull-that intangible sense that she had long ago learned to heed. In this case, it had tugged at her insistently, urging her forward, telling her there was unfinished business that needed tending.

Still, every time she thought about it, her heart jumped and her palms turned damp.

"This is ridiculous." She pushed herself off the bed and went to the closet where the dress she bought earlier that day hung in its wrapper. "Just go, figure out what the spirits want you to do, and go back home."

The room was packed, and all Renee wanted to do was bolt. She hated large crowds-hated being on display and the center of attention.

"You have that look, darling."

"What look is that?" Renee discreetly shrugged off Sabrina's touch.

"The one that says you'd rather have hot bamboo shoved under your fingernails than have to endure another minute of this torture."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Not to anyone but me, darling. Stay and be a good girl, and I promise to make it worth your while later."

Renee's nostrils flared at the patronizing tone. "You can keep the quid pro quo for another client. You needn't worry. I'll be on my best behavior." Renee heard the frost in her own voice, saw the quickly hidden flash of hurt in Sabrina's eyes, and didn't give a d.a.m.n. The New York Times art critic already had come and gone, the August edition of Cowboys and Indians magazine was on newsstands with her face and work on the cover, and three other magazines had run eight-page spreads. The publicity had elevated Sabrina's stature and bolstered her bottom line. She could hardly complain, now could she?

"You're a miserable, hateful excuse for a human being, you know that?"

"Yeah, I do," Renee muttered to Sabrina's retreating form.

Yazhi, standing several feet away and with her back turned, heard the entire exchange. She'd been admiring the extraordinary depth in Renee's photographs. The way she captured the nuances of the rocks, the textures, light and shadows-she brought the canyon to life in a way Yazhi previously had imagined only she could see.

She shook her head. How was it possible that this rude, self-centered, cruel person could show such remarkable sensitivity in her work? There was no way to reconcile the dichotomy.

Yazhi needed some air. She made her way through the crowd and stepped out onto a small balcony. The lights of the city twinkled all around her, but when she looked up, the stars were lost. She couldn't imagine a world where she couldn't find the stars.

"Enjoying the view?"

Yazhi started in surprise. "Um, yes. It is very nice."

The woman with whom Renee had been so harsh stepped up next to Yazhi and extended her hand. "I'm Sabrina. I own this gallery."

Her eyes raked over Yazhi in a way that left Yazhi profoundly uncomfortable. "I'm sure I've never seen you in here before." Sabrina ran her tongue over her lips. "I would've remembered."

"It's my first time in the City."

"Oh." Sabrina shifted her weight, putting her closer to Yazhi. "How long are you here for? Perhaps I could give you a...personal tour."

"Thank you for the offer. Maybe another time," Yazhi said, as she turned to re-enter the gallery.

"I didn't catch your name?"

Although Yazhi heard the question, she chose to ignore it.

Renee's shoulder blades twitched. Over the years, she'd trained herself to ignore that inner voice. This time, though, she couldn't resist following the impulse, so she allowed her senses to engage and let them take over. They led her gaze to a stunning woman with shiny, long black hair the color of midnight who was, just then, gliding across the room. Sabrina trailed behind, looking as if she would jump her bones right on the spot if she could.

It wasn't that Renee could've blamed her. The dark blue silk of the c.o.c.ktail-length dress accentuated the woman's slim, strong figure. The single-shoulder cut of the frock showed off her toned arms and flawless collarbones. Perky b.r.e.a.s.t.s strained against the material. Yes, she made quite a picture. Although Renee wanted to believe she was a.s.sessing the woman with an artist's eye, the twinge in her loins told a different story.

When she finally lifted her gaze to the woman's face, she paused. There was something so familiar about it, but she just couldn't place her. Had she shot her back in the days when she was a fashion photographer? No, she was too short for that. Besides, her aura was phenomenal. Surely Renee would've remembered that.

"Ms. Maupin?"

"Hmm?" Renee reluctantly shifted her focus to the elderly woman with ostentatious jewelry and a pinched expression standing in front of her.

"I do so admire your work."

"Thank you." Renee offered a practiced smile and feigned interest.

"I wonder, do you ever work on commission? My husband and I are planning a trip to Kenya next month, and neither one of us is any good at taking pictures."

Renee's back stiffened. "I don't-"

The woman prattled on, "We'd pay your way, of course, and you could take whatever photos you deemed best. It would be so wonderful to have mementos of our trip."

She tried to count to ten, really she did, but Renee only got to three before her head exploded. "If you want vacation pictures, I suggest you hire a photography major from NYU, or perhaps you could hand a disposable camera to one of the chimps you're sure to see over there."

The woman recoiled. "Well," she huffed, "I'm sorry I asked." She pivoted on her heel and stalked away.

"Do you have any idea who that was?" Sabrina was at Renee's elbow again, her fingernails digging in.

"That was impressive," Renee said. "It only took you three point two seconds to get over here. I figured the way you were panting after that pretty little thing, it would take you at least a full minute."

"You think this is funny?" Sabrina's voice rose an octave. "That woman you just insulted is filthy rich. Her husband owns half of Manhattan. They are my best customers. Or should I say were my best customers."

When Renee merely shrugged, Sabrina's pupils darkened dangerously. "I don't even know who you are anymore. You ought to take a good, long look in the mirror, sweetheart. You're all you've got. I hope you enjoy your own company. You may be the most talented photographer I've ever known, and G.o.d knows I'll miss making money off you, but after this show is over, we're through. You can find yourself another gallery whose customers you can chase away."

Renee watched Sabrina's purposeful stride as she crossed the room and disappeared into her office. Renee couldn't remember ever seeing her that angry. She pursed her lips. Underneath that veneer of anger lurked real pain.

"You're an a.s.s, Maupin," Renee mumbled to herself. She stuffed her hands in her pockets. "Time to go before you cause any more trouble."

When she arrived home, Renee stripped out of her clothes and flopped naked onto the unmade bed. She propped her hand behind her head and stared at the ceiling.

"s.h.i.t." Although it wasn't the most eloquent word she could've used, it neatly summed up the way she felt. She had no doubt that Sabrina meant what she said-Renee would no longer be a welcome fixture in her gallery. Not only that, but the friendship, tenuous as it had become, likely was ruined as well.

At least the show was a success. Most of the pieces already had been sold, and it was only opening night. Renee felt her eyelids grow heavy, and she started to drift.

The alley was dark and dank, the ground littered with crushed beer cans and broken gla.s.s. In the corner, back by the dumpster, a young boy's body lay still, his legs bent at unnatural angles, his eyes open wide and staring. A shadowy figure loomed over the child, his face covered with a sheen of sweat, his lips pulled back in a sinister smile.

Renee whimpered and thrashed, her hands bunched in the covers. She struggled to push up from the murky depths, but the weight of the vision dragged her down. Finally, with much effort, she broke free and bolted upright. She fought to orient herself. Her chest was heaving, her breath coming in gasps. Sweat pooled between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Her eyes searched wildly around the room until they lighted on a photograph of Horseshoe Bend, the sun sparkling off the waters of the Colorado river.

Even though she was staring at the comfort of the bucolic scene, it was several moments before Renee felt her familiar control slip back into place. She scrubbed her face with her hands and kicked her legs over the side of the bed until her feet touched the floor.

"Been a long time since you had one of those," she mumbled. Briefly, she considered calling the police. "What would you tell them? Start looking in every alley in Manhattan, in one of them you'll find a dead boy? Look for the man with the creepy smile?" She blew out a disgusted breath. They'd send the men in white coats.

Experience told her it would be hours before she could close her eyes again. Who knew what the next vision would be? Renee walked over and switched on the Mac. At moments like these, she would try her best to immerse herself in the familiar-images of nature-and the peace only they could bring her.

If only she'd shut herself down instead of giving in to her instincts earlier in the evening, she might've been able to keep the visions at bay. Her mind flashed on the face of the woman at the gallery. She wanted to be angry at her-to blame her for prying open a door Renee had struggled for years to keep closed. But it was no use. The woman's energy had been so pure, so light-no, this wasn't her doing.

Renee rubbed her eyes. As always after an episode, she was exhausted. With a heavy sigh, she focused on the screen.

A car horn sounded on the street below and Yazhi groaned. How anyone could sleep in this city was beyond her. She was in the process of turning on her side, again, when she felt it. Without warning, her heart began to race in a rhythm not her own. Before she could pinpoint the cause, her breathing quickened.

Yazhi rolled onto her back and closed her eyes, quieting her mind so that she might listen and discover the source of her agitation. Automatically, she ran through the steps to protect herself-mentally bringing golden light in through her crown chakra and allowing it to fill her being, while anchoring her feet and root chakra to Mother Earth. Then she called upon her spirit guides to enlighten her. It was a process as familiar to her as brushing her teeth, and took about the same amount of time to complete.

The first image that popped into her mind was of the photographer and, despite her surprise, Yazhi struggled not to open her eyes or break concentration. As quickly as the face had appeared, it was gone, replaced by the gruesome sight of a small boy in a cramped alley, a man standing over him.

"Oh, no!" This time she couldn't help herself. Yazhi shot up and leaned her back against the headboard, panting for air and fighting to make sense of what she had seen. Was Renee in trouble? Did the boy belong to her? Yazhi flung off the covers and reached into the suitcase beside the bed, fumbling for a pair of pants. She had one leg in before she stopped herself.

"You didn't even bring her address with you." Yazhi exhaled and sat back against the wall once more. This time, when she closed her eyes and summoned the golden light, she envisioned each of her chakras spinning in turn, beginning with the root. This heightened her awareness and she focused on allowing the information to flow freely.

No, Renee's heart rate had returned to normal, and the vision of the boy was gone. Slowly, Yazhi opened her eyes and became aware of her surroundings. She looked down and ruefully shook her head. Her pants were bunched around her knees.

"And just where did you think you were going, anyway? It's the middle of the night in a city known for crime, and you were going to...what? Run out blindly and try to find a woman who likely doesn't need or want your help?"

Yazhi removed her pants, folded them neatly, and returned them to the suitcase. She lay back down and folded her hands atop her chest. Renee certainly hadn't struck Yazhi as the damsel in distress type, despite the circ.u.mstances under which they'd met initially.

Still, tomorrow she would go back to the gallery and check on her. Just to be sure.

Chapter Three.

Renee sprinted the last fifty yards and bent over double to catch her breath. She leaned against a light pole and stretched first her calves and Achilles, and then her hamstrings. As always, the run had helped to clear her head.

There was no question that she owed Sabrina an apology. Antagonizing a major client was a cardinal sin, regardless of the cluelessness of the customer. Although she wouldn't have taken any less umbrage, Renee had to admit that she might have handled the woman more diplomatically.

She would go home, shower, dress, and head back to the gallery bearing a peace offering. Renee doubted it would be enough to save their friendship, but perhaps it would help salvage her lucrative business with Sabrina. After all, her two or three shows a year did provide Sabrina substantial income, and Sabrina was nothing if not a savvy businesswoman.

Yazhi was just rounding the corner when she saw the photographer duck into the gallery carrying a large object wrapped in brown paper. She was dressed in a pair of low-slung jeans, worn boots, and a form-fitting v-neck sweater. Yazhi wondered if she had any idea how attractive she was.

For a split second, Yazhi hesitated, wondering whether it was wise to put herself in proximity to a woman against whom her normal defenses seemed wholly ineffectual. Then she remembered the image of the crumpled boy. She shook her head, as if doing so would wipe away the disturbing picture, and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

Whatever it was about this woman, the spirit guides had put her in Yazhi's path for a reason. If the aim had been only for Yazhi to save her life, the connection would not still be this strong. Yazhi squared her shoulders and moved forward. She would see this through until it became clear what role this woman was meant to play in her journey. To do anything different would be to place her out of harmony with the Universe, and that was something that Yazhi would never allow.

"d.a.m.n it, I'm apologizing to you. What more do you want from me?"

"Right now, I want you out of my sight."

Renee threw up her hands in exasperation. "Look, Sabrina, I know you're p.i.s.sed. I get that. I insulted one of your best clients. I get that too. That bloated windbag was important to your bottom line. Mea culpa. I can't change what happened, but I'm making an effort here."

"A lot too little, a lot too late, Renee. I meant what I said last night. I'm through with you. I'm sure you won't have any trouble finding some other gallery owner who'll put up with your surliness in exchange for profits. Heck, all you have to do is take that perfect a.s.s and wave it in some poor unsuspecting slob's direction, and you'll have a new conquest in no time at all."

Renee felt the color rise from her neck to her cheeks. "As I recall, you were the one who came on to me, cupcake. So don't lay that at my doorstep."

"I obviously should have been more...selective. Clearly, it was a mistake."