Outsiders. Part 3

"Clearly," Renee agreed. "You know where to send the check when the show's over. I hope it makes you a bundle, Sabrina. It's been real."

Renee grabbed the still-wrapped package, turned on her heel, and stormed out of the back office. She was almost to the door when she plowed into something solid.

"Oof."

Renee looked down into startled, liquid-chocolate-brown eyes. "Sorry," she mumbled. She reached the door, shoved it open, and set off down the sidewalk. It was a mistake to try to set things right with Sabrina. She had obviously miscalculated the extent of the damage she had done the night before. "Idiot."

"Excuse me. Pardon me. I wonder if I might have a word."

It took several seconds for Renee to realize that the voice was addressing her. She stopped abruptly and looked to her right to find the same woman she had nearly run over in the gallery. She frowned. "What?" She over-enunciated the "t."

"I understand that now might not be the best time, but I wanted to tell you how much I admire your work."

"Thanks," Renee said shortly, resuming her pace and expecting the woman to fall back. Instead, she matched Renee's stride. "Look, you're right, now is not a good time. But I appreciate the compliment." Still, the woman would not go away.

Renee stopped again and spun to face the annoyance. "If you're interested in purchasing something, go back to the gallery. I'm sure the owner would be happy to help you."

The woman's penetrating gaze made Renee uncomfortable. She broke eye contact and began walking again. The woman touched her on the sleeve.

"I said-"

"Who was the young boy in the alley?" the woman blurted.

Renee staggered backward as the impact of the question hit her squarely in the gut. She sucked in a quick breath and regained her equilibrium. This time, when she moved forward, she quickened her stride.

"Who was he?" The woman asked again, seeming to keep up effortlessly despite her significantly shorter legs.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Renee stared straight ahead, her heart pounding painfully against her ribs.

"I know you do. He was in trouble. Is he related to you?"

"You're mistaken."

"I'm not, and you know that."

d.a.m.n, this woman was stubborn. Renee clenched her jaw and soldiered onward.

"Please." The woman wrapped her fingers around Renee's arm. The touch was at once soothing and electric. "I mean you no harm."

"That's good to know." As always when she was frightened, Renee resorted to sarcasm. She was almost to her apartment. If she could just get inside...

"I'm glad your injuries have healed."

Renee whipped her head around. "I'm sorry?"

"I said, I'm glad you've recovered so well. I'm also happy that your work was saved."

Renee's head began to buzz. Who was this woman? She reminded herself that anyone could have read about her mishap in the canyon. Obviously, this woman was some sort of stalker. A nut job.

"I've never seen anyone who could capture the majesty of the rocks with such loving detail. I thought I was the only one who could see it."

Renee's eyes narrowed, but she kept moving.

"I'm sorry about your tripod and camera. They couldn't be saved."

Renee stopped so quickly a man ran into her from behind. "Who the h.e.l.l are you?" She looked closely at the woman for the first time, a dim recognition playing at the back of her mind.

"My name is Yazhi. Yazhi Begay." The woman straightened her shoulders and jutted out her chin.

"How did you know...Wait, it's you. You're the one from the hospital room. And you were at the opening last night." The same woman Sabrina was panting after.

"Is there someplace we can talk?" Yazhi motioned to the foot traffic bustling all around them.

Renee bit her lip, considering her options. Alarm bells were ringing loud and clear in her head, but her curiosity was piqued. So much of that time remained a blur, and so much that she had experienced since defied explanation. This woman-Yazhi-could fill in the blanks. Besides, her aura was bright enough to light up Time Square.

There it is again, d.a.m.n it. That's the third or fourth time since the accident you've seen someone's aura. As quickly as the thought crossed her mind, Renee shut it down. She shrugged. "Okay. There's a coffee shop around the corner."

"Thank you." The woman's smile was dazzling.

Yazhi took advantage of the opportunity to study Renee as she sipped her espresso. The telltale signs of discomfort were present, although Yazhi doubted Renee was aware of that. Her hands were steady, as one would have expected of a world-cla.s.s photographer, but her eyes darted around the cafe and her left leg bobbed up and down to an unheard staccato beat.

"About the little boy," Yazhi began, and watched with interest as Renee's pupils dilated and she sucked in a quick breath. She's afraid.

"So, how is it you came to be in my hospital room? I don't remember ever seeing you before that."

Yazhi noted the evasion and reached under the table to squeeze her hand around Renee's knee to still its motion. Renee went stock still and stiffened under the touch. Yazhi released her grip. "I told you," she said quietly, "I mean you no harm. I'm worried by what I saw, that is all."

Renee opened her mouth, closed it again, then cleared her throat. Yazhi watched a series of emotions flit across her expressive face. It's more than fear.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"We both know that's not true." Yazhi bit her lip. She would not get anywhere as long as Renee was intent on shutting her out. Time to switch gears. Put her back in her comfort zone. "What is in the package?"

"The package?"

"Yes." Yazhi gestured to the wrapped object leaning against Renee's chair.

"Oh. That's nothing. Just another piece I was taking to the gallery, for all the good it did me." Renee mumbled the last bit.

"May I see?" When it appeared that Renee would balk, Yazhi added, "Please?"

After a moment's hesitation, Renee unwrapped the brown paper.

Yazhi was fascinated by the care she took. It was in sharp contrast to the att.i.tude of indifference Renee was attempting to project.

"The lighting in here is horrendous, but..." Renee held up a framed 24 by 28 inch photograph.

Yazhi gasped in delighted surprise. It was Upper Antelope Canyon just at the one moment a day when the sunlight streamed like a spotlight, illuminating the canyon floor and bringing the texture of the walls into sharp relief. She had seen literally hundreds of photographs of that same tableau, but none captured the majesty the way this one did.

"It's breathtaking," Yazhi said.

"Thanks."

Yazhi was surprised to note the subtle blush on Renee's cheeks. "I didn't see that in the show last night. I'm sure I would have noticed. Might I enquire how much you're asking for it?" Never before had Yazhi been moved to purchase a static image of something she saw every day and considered a living, breathing ent.i.ty, but she was drawn to the work in a way even she couldn't explain.

"It's not for sale," Renee snapped.

There it was again, that shuttered att.i.tude. Yazhi sat back in her chair, stung. "I see."

"Look, my memory of the hospital stay and everything that happened right before that is fuzzy. One second I thought I was dead, and the next I'm waking up in a hospital bed to see your face. I'm betting you can fill in a significant number of details for me." Renee's eyes flitted around the room again. She looked everywhere but at Yazhi.

Yazhi frowned. "I'm sure I could." She picked up a napkin, produced a pen from her pocket, and began writing. "When you're ready to answer my questions honestly, I'd be happy to return the favor. You can find me here." Yazhi slid the napkin across the table, rose, and walked away without looking back. Still, she could feel Renee's eyes on her back, and she imagined the shocked look on her face. Yazhi was willing to wager that not many people snubbed Renee Maupin.

For the fourth time in ten minutes, Renee fingered the napkin in her pocket. What the h.e.l.l had happened back there? She shoved away from her desk, rose, and went to the window overlooking Christopher Street.

She had been wanting to know about the events surrounding her rescue for a long time. But no one she'd asked had been able to tell her anything. Something had s.h.i.+fted for her that day, reawakening parts of her she'd thought she'd left behind. It frightened her beyond words. Now, out of nowhere, came this mysterious woman who could answer her questions, and she wouldn't do it. Renee crossed her arms over her chest. Why was she being so unreasonable?

Out of the corner of her eye, Renee eyed the framed photograph leaning against the wall and frowned. Yazhi wasn't the only one being unreasonable. Why hadn't Renee wanted to sell the image to Yazhi? After all, she'd taken it to the gallery for Sabrina to sell.

"Because you're a b.i.t.c.h, that's why." Renee shook her head. That wasn't it and she knew it. Yazhi had rattled her, and Renee had done what she always did in such situations-she retreated behind an impenetrable wall.

"The best defense is a good offense. Jerk."

Not only did Yazhi hold the key to the missing pieces of Renee's recollection and the sudden re-emergence of phenomena Renee had thought dead and buried, but she was beautiful, too. So what was the problem?

Renee wrapped her arms more tightly around herself. The problem was that Yazhi somehow had known about Renee's dream-no, she corrected herself-her vision. Renee wondered if Yazhi also had picked up on anything else. She shuddered as a chill crept up her spine. She hadn't felt this exposed in years. d.a.m.n.

"Well, old girl, you've got two choices. You can stick your head back in the sand, hope the visions go away, and never know what happened back in that canyon. Or you can go find Yazhi, explain about the visions, risk having her think you're a raving lunatic, fill in that gaping hole in your memory, and find out what was so life-changing about that experience. What's it going to be?"

Renee walked over to the desk and s.n.a.t.c.hed up the napkin. She made it all the way to the door and had her hand on the k.n.o.b before turning back. "In for a penny, in for a pound." She grabbed the wrapped package and headed out the door.

Chapter Four.

The knock on the door startled Yazhi. She finished folding her jeans and placed them neatly in the suitcase she was packing.

"Who is it?" she asked, her hand poised on the security chain.

"It's Renee. Renee Maupin."

Yazhi smiled. Although she'd believed Renee would come, she hadn't been sure. The photographer's fear had been so strong...it still was, Yazhi thought, as she extended her senses. She slid the chain off, unbolted the lock, and opened the door.

"Hi."

"h.e.l.lo. Come in." Yazhi moved aside so that Renee could pa.s.s.

"You're packing." Renee's voice expressed surprise.

"Is it customary in New York to leave your clothes behind when you check out?" Yazhi busied herself re-locking the door to hide her smirk.

"What? N-no, of course not. I just..."

Yazhi finally turned around and allowed Renee to see the laughter in her eyes.

"You have a sense of humor?"

"This surprises you." It was a statement, not a question.

"Well, yeah."

"Why? And please, sit down." Yazhi indicated one of two chairs at the small table in front of the windows.

"No reason, I guess," Renee said as she placed the wrapped package gently against the wall and folded herself into the seat. "Do you need to leave right now?"

"No, I've got time." Yazhi sat in the other chair. "Don't tell me you buy into old stereotypes of spaghetti Westerns and the stoic, hostile Indian." Yazhi poked her tongue in her cheek; she was enjoying Renee's discomfort.

"Of course not. It's just..." Renee narrowed her eyes. "You're messing with me, right?"

"I am. Native Americans do have a sense of humor, just like anyone else. You do not have any prejudice in you, so I a.s.sume your reaction was to what little exposure you have had to me."

"How do you know I'm not a bigot?"

"The same way you know to trust me, and that I mean you no harm. It goes hand in hand with our gifts." Yazhi watched as Renee nervously twisted the simple gold band on her right ring finger.

"Our gifts? I don't know what you mean."

Yazhi shook her head. She knew she could play along with Renee's feigned ignorance, but in this instance, she surmised, directness would be best. She suspected that no amount of preparatory small talk would have made her guest more comfortable, anyway.

"Why do you fight it?" Yazhi asked. "You have been given a blessing, and yet you seem to view it as a curse."

"I'm afraid-"

"Yes. That is exactly the problem. You are afraid."

"That's not-"

"What you meant? I know it isn't. But it is the truth, and it holds you back."

"You don't even know me."