A tall dark-haired woman in her thirties, she wore a worried frown on her thin face as she sought Stryker’s eyes. “That was fast,” she said as she held the screen door open for them. Stryker made introductions. Lydia graciously offered them both something to drink. Holly accepted the glass of water she was handed. Stryker asked for nothing. They sat around Lydia’s kitchen table. Stryker set the sketchbook down in front of him. He didn’t open it and Lydia glanced at it curiously. “Lydia, Holly and I have reason to believe that you’re in danger.” He didn’t mince words. “Earlier today she drew this.” He opened the book to the drawing and slid it toward Lydia. “Oh my God.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “That’s my car! This is going to happen?” “So far Holly’s drawings are always precognitive.” “What do I do?” Lydia didn’t hesitate to put her fate in Stryker’s hands. She quite naturally deferred to him and Holly looked at her with surprise. Stryker didn’t hesitate.
