Cameron wasn't prepared for her answer. Shock brought him jumping to his feet. "You did? Are you certain?"

She shrugged. "Does your sister have the same color of hair as yours—well, slightly darker—and is it wavy as well?"

He nodded slowly, still not wanting to believe her, and yet his heart did. At this moment, he needed a little hope that Rosie was safe.

"I saw her pacing the floor," Madison continued. "This time, the room had a window. In fact, the room looked completely different from the last vision."

"Whoa. Stop right there." He sat on the sofa again and took hold of her hands. "You have seen a vision of Rosie before?"

"Yes." Sheepishly, she dropped her gaze to his hands. "It was after you had left this morning to ride to the station. Alice convinced me to stay a little longer and look for things. I thought I had a vision of your sister. She was in a cold, dark room, crying and very frightened while someone on the other side of the door yelled at her to be quite."

"Was it Rosie?"

Madison shrugged. "I couldn't see her, but in the vision I just had, I actually saw Rosie. She wore a pink day dress with white ruffles around the neck of the bodice and short sleeves. Her hair hung in ringlets, and she didn't wear a bonnet. She had been crying because her eyes were red and swollen. She held a white handkerchief with the monogram of the initials GB."

Cameron sucked in a quick breath. Rosie did have a day dress of that description. As for the handkerchief, he didn't recognize those initials. Unless... What was Mr. Bailey's first name? Did it start with a G?

"That's all you saw?" he asked in a tight voice.

"No." Closing her eyes, she rubbed the back of her neck. "The vision changed, and for a minute, I wasn't certain if it was of Rosie or not."

"What did you see?"

"This vision reminded me of the first one I thought I had of Rosie, except the voice I heard crying was of a child. I could see a small room with old, brown drapes on the window, a child's bed with a faded canary yellow quilt, and a worn blue strip of rug on the floor by the bed. I saw a rag doll, and a hairbrush. As in my vision before, I couldn't see the girl's face, but I heard her cries. This time she cried out for Momma, and Papa."

Confusion filled Cameron and he frowned. "That couldn't possibly be Rosie. Our mother died when she was nearly six."

Madison heaved a sigh and shook her head. "I don't know what to think. Why would I see two visions of the same child here in your house?"

"It is very curious, indeed."

"I know it's hard to believe," she frowned, "but I can feel the fear and sadness coming from this child. There must be a reason for that."

"Indeed, there must." Cameron still didn't know what to think, but at least he didn't feel Rosie was in a frightening situation any longer. If Madison was correct, then Rosie was in a house holding a man's monogrammed handkerchief.

"Was there anything else about your vision that can tell us where Rosie is right now?"

"Unfortunately, no."

He sighed and patted her hands gently. "Well, at least that small vision gave me hope that my sister will be all right."

"Yes, for now."

He stood and gently pulled her to her feet. "Are you better now?"

"Yes. I'm only weak for a few moments after my visions."

He motioned his hand toward the hall. "Would you like to return to the dining room?"

Madison shook her head. "No, but I was thinking I should probably go back home."

His breath caught in his throat. "Umm...will you return tomorrow?"

Her lovely eyes widened and her mouth dropped open for a mere second before she closed it again. Her slender neck constricted as though she'd swallowed hard.

"You...really wish me to return?"

"More than anything. I truly believe now that you are the person that will not only locate my sister, but that you'll be able to find the person who killed Mr. Bailey."

"I'm most grateful for your vote of confidence, but I'm sure you are a wonderful investigator. With your help, we shall be able to solve both cases quickly."

"Exactly." He nodded. "So, can you stay for a little while longer? I think if we went over the details of Mr. Bailey's death—of what you know compared to what I know—we might find some leads."

Slowly, her mouth stretched into a smile. "I think that is an excellent idea, Mr. Westland."

"I would like it if you would call me Cameron."

Her cheeks darkened, but this time she didn't look away. "You would?"

"Very much...as long as you allow me to call you Madison."

"Yes. I think that's a splendid idea. After all, we'll be working closely together."

"Indeed, we will."

Madison's smile widened as she turned back to gaze upon the furnishings, but her focus mainly stayed on the bookcase. "This is rather unique. I don't believe I've seen anything like it before."

"My father made it." Cameron stepped past her and up to the glass case. He opened one of the glass doors, lifted a knick-knack off the shelf, and handed it to her. "My father needed a place to keep his creations."

Gingerly, she took the wooden box. She ran the tip of her finger over the carvings of a rose, two birds, and a butterfly. "This is very lovely."

"My father would have been happy to hear you say that. He made so many things over the years. It helped him think better, for some reason. The music box upstairs was his favorite, though."

"Why was it his favorite?" She looked up at him.

"It was one of the last things he worked on before he got to the point in his life when he didn't want to build anything."

Cameron's thoughts returned to yesteryear and the great heartache he and his sisters had gone through while watching their father's illness became worse. No matter what Cameron or his sisters tried to do, his father could not recover.

"Besides knick-knacks, what other things did he make?" Madison asked, handing the small box back to him.

He placed it on the shelf and closed the glass door. "He made many things—chairs, beds, cabinets. The small table you nearly knocked over before your vision was made by him, too."

"How remarkable." She smiled. "What a talented man."

"Yes, he was."

"What made him stop?"

Cameron recalled the gradual demise of his father, and his heart wrenched with sorrow. "He worked at the station, just as I do. He solved many crimes, but there was one he couldn't solve. It angered him to think he couldn't solve the case. Over time, there were more cases he couldn't solve. The weight of his job caused him to drink too much which caused him to spiral downward. Soon, nothing mattered to him anymore. Not even his family."

She laid a hand on his arm, and he raised his gaze to meet hers. Sadness covered her pretty face.

"I'm truly sorry for your loss."

The mood between them somehow shifted, and the pull of attraction became stronger. Was it wrong to look at her as if she was a desirable woman? Especially if they were going to work together? Would she constantly distract him in the worst way? Would he always remember what it had felt like to hold her against his chest when he'd helped her to the sofa? And how she smelled like a flower garden? Maybe it was better off for both of them when he'd thought of her as someone who was losing her mind. But now...he saw her as an amazing woman, and he couldn't think any differently.

"I thank you for your kindness," he told her.

From out in the hall, quick footsteps echoed on the polished floor. He moved his attention to the door just as Alice hurried inside. Her eyes were wide and her face flushed.

"Cameron, Miss Trent is here. She believes she has some information for us about Rosie's disappearance."

Hope sprang with Cameron again. Miss Trent was one of Rosie's best friends. He prayed the young woman could tell him something useful now—since she hadn't been very helpful when he'd asked her questions the other day.

"Oh, no!" Madison gasped and grasped his hand. "Cameron, she cannot know you're here."

He grumbled and threaded his fingers through his hair. His mind turned with ideas of ways to get around the sticky situation. "Where is my wig?"

Alice jabbed her thumb in the direction of the hall. "Don't you recall taking it off right after we entered the house?"

"You ladies need to keep her entertained while I go and get back into my disguise." Miss Trent wouldn't be fooled by his old man appearance, so he had to make it look convincing.