Madison's heart raced as she watched the scene play out in her vision. It was as if she sat in the theatre seats viewing the actors. But these things were happening to Rosie at this very minute.

Cameron's younger sister wore the same dress as in the other visions. The girl's hair had fallen out of the styled coil it had been in earlier. Her eyes were watery, and her cheeks were wet. A frightened face stared at the man coming toward her slowly, leaning on his walking stick. Madison couldn't see the man's face that stalked Rosie, only his back. Chestnut hair brushed against the collar of the man's black overcoat. His frame was slender, and he stood only a few inches taller than Rosie.

"Didn't I instruct you to stay in your room?" the man snapped.

Rosie nodded as she continued to retreat. "You did, but...I just had to see—"

"You disobeyed me," he barked. "Don't you know by now that I cannot abide a disobedient woman?"

More color faded from Rosie's face. "I assure you, I didn't do it to make you upset. I just thought—"

"Then don't think. I'm not impressed with intelligent women."

Rosie bumped against the wall, stopping her from going anywhere. The man stood very close in front of her. She pressed a shaky hand against the man's chest.

"Please, I promise not to leave the room again." A tear fell down her cheek.

"I don't know." He shook his head. "You haven't been very mindful of my feelings as of late, and I feel you haven't learned your lesson."

The man raised his right hand. Rosie cringed. Seconds later, the man slapped her and she screamed.

"Cameron," Madison gasped as she fell into his arms. She clutched his waistcoat and stared up into his eyes. "He hit her!"

Cameron lifted her in his strong arms and carried her out of the wretched cell, out into the hall. Finally, she could breathe easier, but her body remained weak. Thankfully, he still allowed her to rest against his rugged frame.

"Who hit her?"

"I...I couldn't see his face, but he hit Rosie."

"Rosie?" Cameron's voice rose, making the walls echo. "You had a vision about my sister?"

She nodded in silence as she fought to regulate her breathing. At least her head cleared from the dizzy fog that had consumed her while inside that cell.

"Weren't you supposed to see who killed Mr. Bailey?"

"Yes." She took a deep breath. "I think the person who killed Mr. Bailey is the one who struck Rosie." She pressed her face against his chest and inhaled his masculine spice scent. "Oh, Cameron, we need to find her. She is so frightened."

"Could you see where she was?" he asked in a tight voice as his hand stroked her hair.

"She was in the same bedroom where I have seen her before."

"But you couldn't see the man?"

"No. Only the back of him."

"Describe him."

"Slender build, a few inches taller than Rosie, and his chestnut hair was long enough to touch his collar." She took a deep breath. "He wore a black overcoat."

"Oh, my sweet, Madison. You must try harder. Think of what you saw. There must be more that will help us identify him."

Closing her eyes, she moved her mind back to her vision and tried to look him over again, slower this time. "His chestnut hair had tints of blonde. He walked with a cane that had a thick, steel handle." In her mind she spotted something on his finger as he lifted his hand to strike Rosie. A ring! It was a family heirloom ring, she was certain. The family's crest was engraved on the gem.

She gasped and lifted her head, looking into his eyes. "He has a silver ring with a large red gem in the middle."

His brows drew together. "A silver ring with a red gem? Are you certain?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Mr. Bailey was wearing one when I arrested him."

"Did he still have it on when you found him dead?"

"I'm not sure." His frown deepened. "But Captain Orwood would know since he was there when the room was searched."

"You need to ask him. If Mr. Bailey wasn't wearing a ring when he was searched, then we have found our killer."

A small grin broke out on Cameron's face as he stroked her cheek. "My dear, Madison. Have you forgotten? I cannot talk to the captain. He will arrest me."

"But you can provide him with a questionable doubt. You must make him believe it wasn't you."

He held her gaze as time ticked by slowly. Instead of wearing a worried expression as he'd been doing a moment ago, he smiled at her in an odd way with a look that was almost pleasant. Tenderly, he caressed her cheek before his thumb trailed to her lips. Before too long, his attention dropped to that spot, as well.

Suddenly, her throat turned dry, and she had the urge to lick her lips. He wanted to kiss her, she just knew it. As much as she wanted that very thing, was this the time to do that? For some reason, she didn't think so.

She swallowed hard. "Cameron? What's wrong?"

"Forgive me, but...I love how your eyes sparkle when you're thinking about catching the killer."

She chuckled. "I imagine it's similar to the way your eyes dance when you're discussing your work."

His shoulder lifted in a shrug. "Perhaps."

"Will you go talk with your captain? I can go with you if you like."

"Let me think about it. I'm still worried that he'll try and arrest me."

"But you have more information now than you did yesterday, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then perhaps he will re-think his decision to arrest you. After all, you have never let him down before, have you?"

"Never." Sighing, he released her and stepped back. "Are you strong enough to walk or do I need to carry you up the stairs?"

"I can walk now." She smiled.

Although her body wasn't weak any longer, her hammering heart was weak in the worst way. Cameron was such a handsome man, but the fascination she had for him surpassed his appearance. She loved how he put his family first. She loved how he cared about other people. And she loved how excited he became when he was close to solving a case. She could certainly relate to that enthusiasm.

Thankfully, nobody spotted them as they walked outside. They didn't speak again until they were walking toward their buggy. He was quiet, which she'd come to realize meant his mind was at work, trying to figure out the clues from her vision. As she thought back over this last one, again, something struck her as odd. The ring on the man's finger looked familiar. But she couldn't remember where she would have seen it.

Once inside the buggy, Cameron grabbed the reins and urged the horse into a trot. He glanced her way and gave her a tender smile.

"I don't know if I've told you, but I'm really happy that you are with me today," he said.

"I'm very happy to be here with you." Her heart softened.

His smile waned. "So tell me, was my sister all right?"

She lost her smile. "No. She was terrified of this man. He was yelling at her because she'd left her room. She tried to explain why, but he kept cutting her off. He told her he didn't want her to think, or even speak out of turn." She shivered, recalling the fear she felt while watching this little scene. "He'd told her that she hadn't learned her lesson yet. That's when he hit her across the face."

Cameron's fingers tightened on the reins and his hands reddened. So did his face. "I hope my sister can fight him off. As a child, she was so much like a tomboy. She didn't start acting like a delicate flower until she was twelve or thirteen years of age."

"Do you think she would fight this man?"

"I don't know. If he's that overbearing, she might back off. If she feels that she can win, she will keep on fighting for herself."

Madison sighed heavily. "She didn't look like she could fight him. And it wasn't because he was the much bigger than her, because his build wasn't very large at all." Her mind scrambled, thinking back over the men she'd met lately that she could compare with this one. Suddenly, a man's face popped into her mind. "Oh, I know." She turned to him and touched his arm. "He's about as big as Gaynor..."

Within seconds, the man she'd studied so thoroughly while they were at Mr. Bailey's house, came into her mind. From head to toe, she could see him more clearly now. Not only did he have the same build as the man who'd struck Rosie, but...

She hitched a breath. "Cameron! Gaynor has chestnut colored hair, too. And it was messy, just like the man in my vision." Her mind switched again. "And he has a walking stick." Once again, her mind zeroed in on his hand. "Cameron! Gaynor was wearing a silver and red ring on his right hand, too!"

Cussing under his breath, he whipped the reins, coaxing the horse into a run. "We're going back to Mr. Bailey's house, and this time, we will search the premises. We'll not take no for an answer!"

"Do you think that's wise?"

He arched an eyebrow. "What's not wise about it?"

"His whole family is there to protect him, and you are the only one who knows how to use a pistol." She ran her gaze over him. "But you aren't even carrying a weapon."

He brought the horse to a stop before growling and pushing his fingers through his hair. "If I return home before going after Gaynor, it'll be dark by the time I get there."

She pointed back toward the station. "Can't you ask the men you work with for help?"

Cameron lowered his head as he rubbed his temples. "No, I cannot. If the captain saw me—"

"Then make sure the captain doesn't see you."

"No, Madison. It just will not work."

He must be joking! "Why not? Is Gaynor Brailsford not a murder suspect?"

Shaking his head, he peeked at her. "Only to us. Not to the other officers."

"I don't understand."

He turned toward her and took hold of her hands. "Because we only know about Gaynor through your visions."

"Exactly!" She practically shouted.

"Those men inside the station," he motioned his head toward the building, "do not believe in your visions. They wouldn't go with me because they'd think I was as crazy as..."

His voice stopped short. But he didn't need to finish his sentence. She knew exactly what he was going to say. Betrayal crushed her chest, shattering her heart. Although he believed her to a point, he didn't want to defend her in front of his friends.

She jerked her hands away from his warm touch and her whole body turned cold. Her throat tightened, and she fought back the tears threatening to fill her eyes. She cleared her throat for fear it would crack when she spoke.

"I understand perfectly well." Without another thought, she jumped down from the buggy. When she looked at him again, anger guided her words. "Mr. Westland, I shall let you take over your investigations now. I have helped you the best way I know how, and you must do the rest. Please tell Alice goodbye for me, because I have no need to see either one of you ever again."

She spun around and marched back toward the station. With every step, her heart shattered that much more, and she scolded herself for falling in love with the charming investigator. She'd learned her lesson the hard way, and she vowed she'd never repeat her mistake again.