Sense Of Evil

14

THE POUNDING IN HIS HEAD was almost as rhythmic as his heartbeat, as though his very brain pulsed inside his skull.

The imagery pleased him briefly.

The pain made him reach for yet another handful of painkillers. He’d considered going to a doctor and getting the stronger prescription stuff but was wary of doing anything that might call attention to himself.

That bitch agent, it might occur to her that the change kept him in pain most of the time, and she might start calling doctors, checking for just that.

No, he couldn’t take the chance.

But he had a hunch that all the painkillers on top of not being able to eat much these days might be causing other problems. There was a new pain, deep in his gut, a burning. It got better when he was able to eat something, and he knew what that meant. An ulcer, probably.

Was that part of the change? Was it intended that his own digestive acids-helped along by handfuls of painkillers-would eat through the lining of his stomach?

He didn’t see how that would help him become what he had to be, but-

It’s punishment, wimp.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.” He kept his voice low, so nobody else would hear.

You’re dragging your feet. You haven’t done that agent. You haven’t done the reporter. Or the other one. What’re you waiting for?

“The right time. I have to be careful. They’re watching me.”

I knew I wouldn’t be able to count on you to keep it together. You’re paranoid now.

“No-”

You are. All you should be thinking about is what those women have done to you. Those bitches. You know what they’ve done. You know.

“Yes. I know.”

Then there’s nothing else to think about, is there? Nothing else to worry about.

“I just have to kill them. All six of them. Just like I did before.”

Yes. You just have to kill them.

“I’m not that self-destructive,” Isabel said.

“You’re that scared.”

“And you know that because of your degree in psychology?”

“I know it because I was brutalized too.”

After a long moment, much of the tension drained visibly from Isabel and she said, “Yeah. We belong to a very select club, you and I. Survivors of evil.”

“It doesn’t have to be a lifetime membership, Isabel.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No. And if you let it be, then you let him win. You let evil win.”

Isabel managed a faint smile. “If this is what Maggie Barnes did for you, then I wish I’d had her around fourteen years ago.”

“What Maggie did for me,” Hollis said, “was put me in the same place you’re in now. As if years have gone by. The memories are still there, the pain is only an echo-and the scars are fear. I can be more objective than you because I’m not the one falling in love.”

“And if you were?” It was a tacit admission.

“I’d be scared to death.”

“I’ll remind you that you said that.”

It was Hollis’s turn to smile faintly. “Believe me, I’m counting on you to help me through, if it ever happens.”

“The blind leading the blind.”

“You’ll have figured things out by then. You’ll have to. As our esteemed leader says, the universe puts us where we need to be. You obviously need to be here, now. With Rafe.”

“And a killer.”

Hollis nodded. “And a killer. Which is why I think you can’t try to ignore or deny your own feelings. Not now, not this time. You don’t have that luxury, not with a killer in the equation. You need your abilities at full strength, plus whatever Rafe brings to the relationship.”

In a slightly suspicious tone, Isabel asked, “Did Bishop tell you anything else about what’s happening here? I mean, aside from having you give Rafe just the information he needed to keep that little confrontation at the dairy farm from having a tragic ending?”

“No, but I’ve been thinking about that.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Oh, it’s nothing definitive. You know how Bishop and Miranda are when it comes to seeing the future. Maybe they did see this and knew that Rafe needed to be part of it; maybe that’s why they made sure he’d survive Helton’s drunken paranoia. But even if they did, they’d hardly tell me anything about it.”

“Probably not,” Isabel agreed wryly. “They feel very responsible for what they see and the actions they take or don’t take, so they don’t say a whole lot about it to the rest of us.”

“One of these days,” Hollis said, “I’d love to talk to them about the whole philosophical question of playing God.”

“Good luck.”

Hollis smiled faintly, but said, “Getting back to the point I wanted to make, I think there’s a very simple reason why you and Rafe reacted to each other so instantly and on a basic chemical and electromagnetic level.”

“I guess you’re going to tell me even if I don’t ask.”

“Yes. It’s that balance thing the universe tries to keep going. In your case, you needed something outside yourself to be whole, balanced. And so does he. I think you two were meant to be a team, Isabel. Just like Bishop and Miranda. The two of you together are potentially… greater than the sum of your parts. A perfect balance, something the universe keeps aiming for and so often misses.”

“Hollis-”

“I don’t know why I believe that, but I do. Maybe it’s the sparking thing. Or just the way you talk to each other, as though you’ve been close for years. All I know is that I believe what I believe. And I think the only difference between you two and Bishop and Miranda is that it took them years and a lot of tragedy to figure things out.”

“What makes you think I-Rafe and I-can get there any faster or easier?”

“You do. You charge at things head-on, Isabel. It’s your instinct as sure as Rafe’s instinct is to protect. So stop holding back. Stop being afraid. Trust yourself.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Yeah, it is. Like I said, I’m not the one falling in love and trying to cope with all this. But the universe put me here for a reason, too, and maybe it wasn’t to talk to dead victims. Maybe it was to talk to you. Maybe it’s not time for me to learn to control my abilities.”

“That’s a handy excuse,” Isabel said, not unkindly.

“You don’t have to worry that I’ll stop trying.” Hollis grimaced slightly. “Okay, you don’t have to worry that I’ll keep on not trying.”

“I was beginning to wonder.”

“I know I need to learn to control this. And I know I won’t be able to if I don’t start trying. So I will. You have my word on that. My abilities might be the only edge we’ve got in this. Especially if it’s going to take time for you and Rafe to get this shield thing figured out.”

“The thought had occurred.”

“So we both have a lot of work to do. And Rafe’ll have to get a crash course in being psychic.”

Isabel sighed. “Well, after my last little discussion with him, Rafe may not be all that willing, no matter what he said. I don’t need any extra senses to know he was not happy with me.”

“If I have to say it again, I will. Subtle is not your strong suit, pal.”

“It comes of being a platinum blonde almost six feet tall,” Isabel said wryly. “Like being a neon sign in human terms, at least according to what the therapists say.”

“Since you’ve never been able to melt into the background physically…”

“Exactly. Another reason I-to use your phrase-charge at things head-on. Usually. Everybody tends to be watching me, might as well give them something to see. Never really got much of a chance to practice subtle.”

“It shows.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that.”

“Mmm. In any case, I’ve got a strong hunch that Rafe will meet you halfway even if he is pissed at the moment. But only halfway. You’re the profiler, so consider this: what is it you have that Rafe needs to balance himself-and vice versa? And I’m not talking about the shield thing. Emotionally. Psychologically.”

“You obviously think you know the answer.”

“Yeah, I think I do. I also think it’s something both of you will have to figure out for yourselves.”

“Jesus. You really are beginning to sound like Bishop.”

Hollis considered a moment, then said, “Thank you.”

Shaking her head, Isabel checked her watch, then got herself off the conference table. “I’m taking Rafe for his… psychic litmus test.”

“Say hello for me.”

“I will. In the meantime, the focus of the investigation needs to be on locating that box of photographs and the missing women, and trying to figure this bastard out before he kills another one. In other words, same old, same old.”

Hollis nodded, then said, “This morning, you asked Ginny McBrayer if she was feeling okay.”

“Yeah.”

“You saw the shiner, didn’t you? It got more obvious as the day wore on, despite her attempts to cover it up.”

Isabel sighed. “She did a good job with the makeup, which makes me think it’s not the first black eye she’s had to hide. What do you know about her home life?”

“I asked Mallory, casually. Ginny still lives at home, with her parents. She’s trying to pay off college loans and save for a place of her own.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Mallory didn’t know. But I can ask Ginny outright. I’m not especially shy.”

“I noticed that.” Isabel thought about it, then nodded. “If you get the chance, do. She may think we’re butting in to something that’s none of our business, but there’s a lot of tension in this town, and borderline situations can get pushed over the edge really fast.”

“An abusive boyfriend or parent could get worse.”

“Much worse. Besides, she’s got a lot on her plate as a young officer, especially right now, and stress can cause different reactions in people. Like the rest of us, she takes her gun home with her.”

“Oh, hell. I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“Let’s hope she hasn’t either.”

“So, are you still mad at me?” Isabel asked Rafe as they got into her and Hollis’s rental car.

“I wasn’t mad at you.”

“No? Then I guess an arctic cold front swept through the conference room despite all those walls. I nearly got frostbite. Amazing.”

“You know,” he said as she started the engine, “you don’t talk like any other person I’ve ever met.”

“One of a kind, accept no substitutes.”

He looked at her, one brow rising. “Where are we going?”

“West. That little motel on the edge of town.”

“Great. The only motel in Hastings that charges hourly rates.”

“Oh, I doubt anybody will pay attention to us going in, if that’s what you’re worried about. I took Stealthy 101 at the Bureau.”

Rafe’s mouth twitched. “You don’t play fair either.”

“Well, at least we both have our little tricks. You can kiss me until my knees get dizzy, and I can make you laugh even when you’re pissed.”

He laughed, but said, “I was not pissed. Just… annoyed. You are a very difficult woman, in case no one has ever told you that.”

“I have been told, as a matter of fact. It doesn’t seem to help, knowing about it. Sorry.”

He turned slightly in his seat to watch her as she drove, but let a few minutes pass before saying, “Dizzy knees, huh?”

“Oh, don’t say you didn’t know.”

“I knew there was some effect. That was the only reason I didn’t get pissed in the conference room when you were so busy backpedaling.”

“You weren’t supposed to see me backpedaling. Hollis says I don’t do subtle real well.”

“You don’t do subtle at all.”

“Then I’ll stop trying, shall I?”

He grinned. “So you do have a few buttons.”

Isabel got hold of herself. Or tried to. “Apparently. Look, it’s not all that much fun to keep hearing how blatant you are. I’m an almost-six-foot blonde, which makes me real visible; I’m a clairvoyant without a shield-usually-which makes me a high-wattage receiver for an amazing range of trivia that tends to come at me like painful bullets, and now I find out I might as well be wearing my heart on my sleeve. Just look for my picture beside the word obvious in the dictionary.”

“You do defensive very well.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Rafe chuckled. “You’ll feel much better when you just admit it, you know you will.”

“I don’t know how I’ll feel. And neither do you.”

“You’re wasting a lot of energy, I know that. Want to talk about our primitive instincts? You’re a fighter, Isabel; backing away from this isn’t doing anything except keeping you rattled and off balance.”

“All of a sudden everybody has a degree in psychology,” she muttered.

“Just tell me this much. Is it going to make a difference, finding out whether I’m psychic?”

Isabel knew that was a serious question and answered it seriously. “You mean will I love you more if you can provide a shield for me? No. Being shielded for nearly twenty-four hours has taught me I’d rather be without one. I mean, nice place to visit now and then, but I really do feel like I’ve suddenly gone deaf, and I don’t like it.”

“So if I am psychic and have somehow put a shield around your abilities, you’re going to run to the ends of the earth to escape it?”

“I didn’t say that. And no. We’ll just figure out a way for one or both of us to control the damned thing, that’s all. Having psychic abilities never makes life easier, but the whole point is learning to live with them.”

“So you’ll love me either way?”

Isabel opened her mouth, then closed it. She allowed the silence to lengthen for a moment before saying, “You’re very tricky.”

“Not tricky enough. Apparently.”

“Here’s the place.”

Rafe smiled slightly but didn’t say anything else as she pulled the car into the motel’s secondary drive and around to the back of the building.

It was a somewhat seedy motel, an L-shaped single floor, and the neon VACANCY sign was flickering on the point of going dark. Only two cars were parked at the front; around the back there were half a dozen more scattered vehicles.

Isabel parked the unobtrusive rental beside a small Ford with a dented rear bumper, and they both got out. She went immediately to the room in front of the Ford and knocked quietly.

The door opened. “What, no pizza?”

“I forgot,” Isabel said apologetically, stepping into the room.

“You owe me one. Hey, Chief,” Paige Gilbert said. “Come on in.”

“We’re just concerned,” Hollis told Ginny quietly.

The younger woman shifted a bit in her chair at the conference table, then said, “I appreciate that. I really do. But I’m fine. In a few more months, I’ll have enough saved to move out on my own.”

“And until then?”

“Until then I’ll just stay out of his way.”

“Like you did last night?” Hollis shook her head. “You’ve had enough training to know better, Ginny. He’s mad at the world and you’re his punching bag. He won’t stop until somebody makes him.”

“When I move out-”

“He’ll go back to beating your mother.”

“I didn’t tell you that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Ginny slumped in her chair. “No. It’s textbook, isn’t it? He’s a bully who beat her up until I got old enough to intervene, and now he hits me. When I’m not fast enough to stay out of his reach, that is. Usually, he’s so drunk he passes out or knocks himself out trashing the house, at least now that he’s older.”

“Your mother?”

“I haven’t been able to talk her into leaving him. But once I’m out, I think she’ll go live with her sister in Columbia.”

“And what will he do?”

“Go down the drain, probably. He hasn’t had a regular job in years because of his temper. He’s stupid and sullen and-like you said-mad at the world. Because, of course, it’s not his fault that his life sucks. It’s never his fault.”

“It isn’t your fault,” Hollis said. “But when he goes too far and assaults someone else, or drives drunk and causes an accident, or does something else stupid and destructive, you’ll blame yourself. Won’t you?”

Ginny was silent.

“You’re a cop, Ginny. You know what you have to do. Press charges, see that he’s locked up or forced into some kind of treatment program, or whatever it takes to defuse the situation.”

“I know. I know that. But it’s hard to…”

“To take it all public. Yes, it is. Maybe one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. But doing it will take away his power. It’s his shame you’ll be showing the world, not yours. Not your mother’s. His.”

Biting her bottom lip, Ginny said, “It’s mostly the guys here that I think about. I mean, I took the training, I know self-defense, and still he hits me. So what’re they going to think? That I’m some weak little girly-girl who needs them to protect me all the time? I wouldn’t be able to take that.”

“You might get that reaction at first,” Hollis admitted. “Not because they think you aren’t capable, but because they wouldn’t have become cops if they didn’t want to help people. Protect people. Especially one of their own. But you’ll show them, in time. Earn another marksman’s medal or another belt in your karate classes, and they’ll notice.”

“How did you know-”

“A little birdie told me.” Hollis smiled. “Look, the point is that you have friends. And they’ll be supportive. But this is not the time to back off, to avoid taking action against your father. With this killer on the loose, everybody’s on edge and in full defensive mode. If your father pushes anybody the wrong way, he’s likely to provoke a situation with a tragic outcome.”

“You’re right.” Ginny got to her feet and managed a smile. “Thank you, Hollis. And thank Isabel for me, will you? If you hadn’t said something, I probably would have let this go on, and God knows what might have happened.”

“You have friends,” Hollis repeated. “Including us. Don’t forget that.”

“No. No, I won’t. Thanks.” She went quietly from the conference room.

Hollis sat there frowning in silence for a moment, her gaze fixed on the bulletin boards covered with photographs and reports, then reached for her cell phone and punched in a number.

“Yeah.”

“I know this isn’t a good time,” Hollis said, “but when you’ve finished up there, ask Rafe about the McBrayer household, will you? He might know just how volatile Hank McBrayer is, how dangerous.”

“She’s going to press charges?”

“I think so. And I have a very bad feeling about how he might react.”

“Okay. Keep her busy there, if you can; she might feel the need to go confront him before she takes official action.”

“Shit. Okay, I will. Oh-and we’ve got a small lead on Kate Murphy; after the latest round of radio announcements asking for help, a witness came forward to report he thinks he might have seen her getting on a bus the day she disappeared. We’re checking it out.”

“Good. It’d be nice to know we aren’t looking for another body. Yet.”

“I’ll say. How’s it going there?”

“I’ll fill you in when I get back.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Tense is the word I’d use. Talk to you later.”

“Is who going to press charges?” Rafe asked as Isabel ended the call.

“Tell you later.”

He frowned at her. “I am not tense.”

Isabel lifted both brows at Paige.

“He’s tense,” Paige said.

Rafe, sitting on one of the two rather unsteady chairs near the front window, rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the two women warily. “I’m still trying to deal with you being a fed,” he told Paige. “And the fact that you’ve been here longer than Isabel.”

Isabel shook her head. She was sitting in the other rickety chair, both of which faced Paige, who sat on the bed. “I’m still pissed at Bishop for that part of it. All the time I was arguing with him about sending me down here, and he already had an agent in place-and had sent her here right after the first murder, even before you asked for a profile.”

“Not much gets past him,” Paige reminded Isabel. “Neither of them has said, but I get the feeling he and Miranda keep an eye on any investigations that might even possibly involve any of the killers in our cold-case files. Hell, Kendra probably wrote a program for them purely to do that-scan all the police and law-enforcement databases looking for specific details or keywords.”

“He might have told me,” Isabel said.

“And he might have told Hollis why she was supposed to make sure Rafe knew you understood Latin. Of course, if he had, then she might have been self-conscious about what she was doing, and Rafe might have picked up on the wrong part of the conversation, and you might never have had to bring him to me to find out if he’s psychic because he’d be dead.”

“If my vote counts,” Rafe said, “I vote we let Bishop continue to do things his own way.”

“Okay, point taken. But Hollis is right: one of these days, one of us is going to have to sit down and have a long talk with Bishop and Miranda about the philosophical and actual consequences of playing God.”

“Later,” Rafe said. “Can we please do what we came here to do and find out what’s going on inside my head? How do we find out, by the way? And does it involve something unspeakable like… chicken entrails?”

“What have you been reading?” Paige demanded.

“Well, since nobody offered me a copy of the psychic newsletter…”

Isabel frowned and looked at Paige. “Isn’t that a joke Maggie uses sometimes?”

Paige nodded, her gaze thoughtfully fixed on Rafe. “Yeah. He’s very plugged-in. Aside from Beau, I’ve never met anybody else who could do that. He’s sort of picked up the rhythm of the way you talk too.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“Ladies, please.” Rafe was beginning to look profoundly uneasy.

“Oh, you’re psychic,” Paige said matter-of-factly.

Rafe had braced himself to be told that, but the abruptness and utter calm of the disclosure threw him more than a little. “You don’t have to touch me to make sure?”

“No. I’m not a touch telepath, I’m an open telepath. All I have to do is focus on someone and concentrate. If I can read them at all, I know right away. I can read you, and you’re psychic.”

“I am?”

“You are.” Paige looked at Isabel. “I was pretty sure he was, at that news conference before you showed up on Thursday. When you walked into the room, I was positive.”

“That’s when everything changed,” Rafe murmured. “I felt it.”

“I’m not surprised,” Paige said frankly. “The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. It was like an electrical current was let loose in the room.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Isabel demanded. “Then would have been nice, but when I called you today-”

“I reported in to Bishop on Thursday, and he told me to wait. That you and I shouldn’t have any contact at all until you called me. On Sunday.”

“He knew I’d call today.”

“Apparently, yes.”

“At least tell me he didn’t give you a whole list of things to say to one or both of us.”

Paige grinned. “No. He just said you’d call, and it would be safe for us to meet, that I should follow my training and instincts. So that’s what I’m doing.”

Isabel was looking thoughtful, her irritation with Bishop a fleeting thing. “Wait a minute. Rafe was already a functional psychic before I came into the room?”

“Yeah, but not consciously.”

“Then the original trigger was-”

“Dunno. It had to be recent, and probably some kind of emotional or psychological shock.”

Slowly, Rafe said, “I don’t recall anything like that happening. My life was very ordinary until all this started. Having a serial killer loose in my town was a shock, I admit, but nothing I’m not trained to deal with.”

“Could have been some kind of subconscious shock, I suppose, though that’s really rare. We’re usually completely aware of the jolts we get through life. Whatever it was, I can’t get at it; it’s behind his shield.”

Isabel rubbed her forehead briefly. “Okay, let’s try something a little easier. What happened when I came into the room that day?”

Readily, Paige said, “As near as I can tell, you were the catalyst. Or it was a combination of the two of you in close proximity for the first time. On a purely electromagnetic level, it was like energy going to energy. I felt it come through the room between you. Jeez, I could almost see it.”

“And what did that do to Rafe’s abilities?”

“Same thing it did to yours. Started to change them.”

“Wait a minute,” Rafe said. “Change them from what? And into what?”

“Here’s where we get into educated guesswork,” Paige told them. “From what I was getting before Isabel walked into the room, I think your natural ability would have been precognition.”

“Seeing the future?”

“Like your grandmother,” Isabel said. “She had the sight.”

Rafe leaned forward, elbows on knees, and frowned at Paige. “But I’m not precognitive now?”

“No, not actively. When Isabel walked in, everything changed. Her energy added to yours closed that door and opened another one.”

“I’m afraid to ask,” Rafe said.

“I’m not,” Isabel said. “What’s behind door number two?”

“Clairvoyance.”

Startled, Rafe said, “Like Isabel?”

“Yeah, except that as we all know you have a shield. Dandy one, as a matter of fact. So dandy you’ve got it wrapped around both of you.”

“How is that possible?” Isabel demanded. “He’s not consciously controlling any of this.”

“That’s how it’s possible.” Paige eyed Rafe thoughtfully. “In case you don’t know this, your conscious mind is always second-guessing your hunches and instincts. For most of your life, I gather.”

He nodded without comment.

“Well, your instincts are fighting back. Once your abilities became functional, your subconscious took them over. With a vengeance.”

Isabel frowned. “Wait a minute. If this shield of his is so powerful it can even enclose my mind-”

“Then how am I able to read him? It’s because he’s doing all this at a subconscious level. Just beneath his conscious mind is a solid wall.” Paige lifted her brows at Isabel. “Same one that’s just beneath your conscious mind. It’s really no wonder you can’t hear the voices anymore.”

With a sigh, Isabel said, “You know, Bishop was right-as usual, damn him-to send Hollis with me. She’s been pretty much on the mark about all of this.”

“Yeah, the rookies often are. Sometimes knowing just the basics can offer you more room to speculate and the imagination to do it,” Paige said. “The rest of us tend to get tripped up by our own assumptions.”

“I’m still trying to figure out the basics,” Rafe told them. To Paige, he said, “So I’m not stripped naked to you, just down to my underwear.”

“Pretty good analogy.” She smiled. “And accurate, as far as it goes. I’m not picking up thoughts from you-I mean clear thoughts like sentences. It doesn’t work that way for me. You could be calling me rude names in your head or worrying about some deep dark secret you don’t want anybody to know, and I wouldn’t necessarily read either.”

“Because you specialize in reading psychic ability in other minds?” he guessed.

Paige nodded. “Exactly. My own energy seems to be tuned for that, picking up on that particular frequency. So I usually know if somebody else is psychic, how they’re psychic, and what’s going on in that area of their minds. But the human brain is vast, mostly unmapped terrain, and the larger part of it is as alien to me as it is to most everybody else.”

Rafe shook his head as he sat back in his chair, but said, “Okay, how do I control this?”

“Simple. Get your conscious mind in control.”

“And you’re going to tell me how to do that?”

“Wish I could. Sorry. This is the sort of thing almost every psychic has to figure out more or less alone. The only advice I have to offer is that you two work together on it. Clearly, you’re meant to.”

It was Isabel who said, “So tell us why.”

Paige didn’t hesitate. “Do me a favor and hold hands for a minute.”

Rafe looked at Isabel, then held out his hand. With only a slight hesitation, she put hers in it.

At the spark, Paige’s eyes widened. “I’d heard about it but not seen it. Interesting, to say the least.” She frowned, obviously concentrating.

But then something really weird happened.

While Isabel and Rafe watched in fascination, Paige’s shoulder-length dark hair began to lift and stir as though a breeze had wafted through the room. There was a soft popping and crackling, and a low hum began to fill the silence.