On the first Monday after Baxter's death Liza went to school again, in hopes of salvaging some part of the year. All the drama had been difficult on her grades. She didn't know if she would see Quinn there or not, but she decided she had to face him if he was. She opted to have her father drop her off at the door, rather than ride the bus. Nervously, she stood outside the door to school.

"Hey! What are you waiting on? We have school."

Liza swung around.

"Andrew? What are you doing here? Wasn't your cover, like, busted or something?"

"Grumpy, aren't we? No, not completely. And you still need protection."

"From what, spooks? I'm not exactly dealing with your type of people."

Andrew took her by the arm and led her to a more secluded part of the yard.

"My cover isn't completely blown, at least not yet, so if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if it stayed that way. And we are dealing with the dead now, thanks to you."

Liza glared at him, but his barb hit very close to home. She turned her head to hide tears that threatened to spill.

"Aw, c'mon Liza. It was a mistake, okay? Look, I'm here to offer any kind of protection I can."

"What exactly do you do? Are you a ghost whisperer?"

Andrew looked at Liza, slightly annoyed.

"No, I do not. I am not some skinny chick that runs around in miniskirts, talking to the dead."

"You wouldn't look good in a miniskirt."

Andrew gave her a withering look.

"So what do you do?"

"I call the dead when they're needed."

"Do you whisper when you do it?"

"No. I call them."

"So you talk to them."

"Yes."

"Like a whisperer."

"How about we go in?"

Liza shrugged and followed Andrew into the school. At the point, it made no difference to her. She'd unleashed the worst killer in the world, lost her boyfriend, and had no way of making it better. All she could do was mentally check out for a while.

The day breezed by for Liza. She wasn't at all surprised when Quinn's chair stayed empty in every class she shared with him. What did surprise her was that she wished he was there. She missed him so much. Then she reminded herself of what he'd done and went back to hating him, even if it was a weak hatred.

Liza withdrew over the next week. She tried to be more interested in the lessons her father was teaching her about dreamwalking, but she just couldn't bring herself to care.

Andrew came over frequently, trying to work with Liza and Lance for solutions, but Liza just felt like the walking dead and tuned it all out. She felt like a void until the day she saw Quinn again.

Liza woke up on Saturday, a zombie as ever. Sitting in the bay window in the living room she stared out at the world that she didn't understand anymore. Suddenly, she saw a sandy haired boy walking a little unsteadily up the sidewalk. He stopped in front of her house and just stood there. Liza sat up. What was he doing? Quinn sank to his knees and bowed his head. When he looked up again, the pain was so great on his face that it felt like a knife in Liza's chest.

Jumping up, Liza ran to the door and opened it. She stood a moment, looking at him, him looking at her with tears streaming down his face.

"He's never gone. He's always there," he moaned. Liza ran out to Quinn and landed on her knees beside him. He was shaking so much. Brushing back his hair, Liza looked into Quinn's eyes. They were so haunted.

"Dad! Dad, come quick!" she screamed. In a matter of moments, Lance rounded the corner and sprinted out the door to the couple on the sidewalk.

"What? What's going on? What's he doing here?"

"Dad, look at him."

"Please, sir, make him go away. I can't take it anymore."

Lance leaned over and helped Quinn to his feet. He deposited Quinn on the couch and sat down near him. Liza sat in a chair facing him.

"Is he here with you? Baxter?"

Quinn nodded.

"Always," he whispered. "The things he says, what he does...the images..." He hung his head. "I haven't slept in a week. He came to me, said he wanted to be like a real father and son. Then he attacked my aunt. He almost killed her. Just because she looks like my mom. He killed my mom."

"Quinn, you need to tell us everything you can. We need information that we can use," said Lance.

"Like what?"

"Anything."

"He hates everything and everyone."

"Yes..."

"He hates you."

Lance nodded.

"He wonders why Andrew arrested me."

Lance looked up at Quinn.

"He doesn't know about Andrew?"

"Know what?"

Lance turned to Liza.

"We may have our solution."

Quinn looked at Lance and Liza.

"What are you talking about?"

"Quinn, I apologize, but we're going to have to keep you in the dark. What you know, Baxter knows. If we ever hope to one up him, we have to keep it under wraps. I need you to go home and wait for our call. We'll get you out of this," said Lance.

Quinn turned to Liza.

"Liza, I'm so sorry. I..." Quinn hung his head again. Liza's heart broke then. His father was hurting him and she couldn't get in there to stop it. She reached out her hand and took his.

"It'll be okay."

He didn't look like he believed her, but he nodded his head and rose. Lance walked him to the door.

"Wait for the call."

Quinn nodded and left. When Lance shut the door, Liza looked at him expectantly.

"We need to call Andrew," Lance said.

Liza decided to wait until Andrew was there to get the full scoop on what exactly was going on. When Andrew arrived, Liza let her contempt for him show for just a moment before letting it pass. Andrew, as usual, only looked amused at her. When they were all settled around the kitchen table, Lance started out.

"Liza and Quinn had an idea to get Baxter for good."

Liza winced.

"And it didn't work," Andrew said.

Liza glared at Andrew.

"But, that's only because they didn't have a proper necromancer and Quinn was planning on messing it up the whole time. I'd like to try a similar plan, this time with you as our necromancer."

"Okay, sounds good, except Baxter would see me coming a mile away and wouldn't come near me. If you remember right, I've been outed."

Lance smiled.

"We had a visitor today. Quinn came by."

Andrew sat up.

"He what? Why didn't you call me?"

"We did," Liza said.

"Sooner, before he left. He shouldn't be here."

"Andrew, it's okay. He came because he's been inhabited by his father since he died. Baxter's been torturing the boy since then with images and thoughts."

"Jeez," Andrew breathed.

"He also gave me a little information that will come in useful."

"What's that?"

"He doesn't know what you are."

Andrew leaned forward, thinking.

"I never did say it, did I?"

Lance shook his head.

"He knows you can do arrests, and that you're not what you seem, but he doesn't understand that you are a necromancer."

Andrew let out a whistle.

"So, there's still some hope that I could get to him. But how?"

"We need a dead person to get to him."

"It'd have to be somebody close. Just any dead person won't do, the ties aren't there unless there is a history."

"Can you call any dead?"

"It's not an exact science, but I can narrow it down pretty far."

"Can a dead person enter a dream world and bring out a dreamwalker?"

Andrew shook his head.

"The dead's influence in dreams is symbolic only. It's how they speak to loved ones."

"So, we have to get him out of Quinn before we can snag him with a dead person."

"How do we do that?" asked Liza.

"With you."