ChasingShadows (18 page)

Quickly, she popped a couple of antacid tablets in her mouth.
Leaning back, she closed her eyes, hoping to salvage her threadbare nerves.

No longer clutched in her hand, the keychain lay on the
floor underneath her desk. Too spent to reach down and pick it up, she
concentrated on the vision.

He’d seen her eyes again. She shuddered while the images
recreated themselves in her mind. The gray eyes created an intense fear. It
took everything she possessed to simply breathe
. Why is this happening? How
did I become so unlucky as to tap into this lunatic’s mind? Who the hell is he?

She had to call Alex. He’d be angry at her, but she had a
duty to help the best way she knew how.

The intercom buzzed, startling her. Marie’s voice announced,
“Nicholas Hastings can’t make his appointment. He’ll drop by later to sign the
papers.”

Relieved, Juliana punched the speaker button. “Did you tell
him I’ll be out?”

“Yes.” Marie chuckled. “He said next Saturday, dinner with
his friends. He’ll call you with details.” Another phone line rang. “I need to
answer that.” The intercom connection dropped automatically.

Hastings’ invitation offered her a foot up in California,
but she was too conflicted now to think of building her practice. She gnawed on
her lower lip. Tomorrow—she’d think about it then.

The pounding in her skull worsened, and she downed a couple
pain relievers.

She stared at the moonlit ocean scene depicted in the oil
painting across the spacious office. A stalwart lighthouse flashed a welcoming
beacon to endless inhospitable waters. Mighty waves crashed upon the beach. The
windswept sea grass populating the sand dunes confirmed the onslaught of the
oncoming storm.

A storm that threatened to smother the light and inflict
havoc upon her body. Lost in the panoramic scene, Juliana had a sudden feeling
of displacement. She swung her gaze away from the mesmerizing painting and
forced her concentration onto the here and now.

A call into her voicemail produced two messages from Alex. The
first one thanked her for last night. Heat rushed to her cheeks at his
heartfelt words. His second message reminded her that the keychain still lay on
the floor. He remembered she had it.

Tentatively, she retrieved the gold medallion. It rested
silent and harmless on her palm. No pinprick of evil touched her mind. She
thrust the broken keychain into the evidence bag and shoved the bag into her purse.

She dialed Alex’s cell phone. He answered on the first ring.
“Alex, it’s Juliana.”

“I’d recognize your voice a million miles away.” His sensual
tone brought a ray of sunshine into her heart. “What’s up?”

“The kidnapper, that’s what.”

“Tell me more.” Alex the lover took a backseat as his tone
became brusque.

“I have your keychain. In fact,” she proceeded into the eye
of the storm. “I experienced a vision from it. It definitely belonged to—”

“What?” Alex roared. “Alone? Where are you?”

“I’m okay. I’m at work,” she said with as much annoyance as
she could rally in her voice. Hurrying on, she halted his response. “I’ve had
visions for a heck of a long time without you, Lieutenant. I think I can manage
them just fine.”

“Not these kinds of visions!” he yelled. “You’ve only
experienced dreams when you’re asleep. Kind of hard to faint to the ground if
you’re already in bed.”

He did have a point, but she wasn’t ready to concede. “Give
me a break, Alex. I was sitting down. You don’t need to hold my hand.”

“No? Just your head while you puke your breakfast into the
sink?”

She winced—the truth stung. “Lieutenant, listen to me and
listen good.” She tapped her fingernails on the mahogany desktop. “I’ve lived a
long time alone, through one nightmare crime after another. I don’t need you,
or any man for that matter, telling me how to run my life.”

He sighed heavily. A long moment of silence draped prickly
curtains around her.

“Fine,” he said sourly.

“Would you like to hear what I saw, or would you like to
continue with a losing battle?”

He groaned. “What did you see?”

She knew she couldn’t tell him everything she saw or felt or
he’d go off again. If only he weren’t Lisette’s uncle.

“The kidnapper appeared to be in his living room. It was
dark. The vision made me recall the night of the kidnapping. I remembered the
vividness of the stars, how bright the moon was.” Closing her eyes brought the
details alive. “The house is dark, not only the inside. Outside too. No outside
lights. No streetlights, no neighboring house lights.”

“He’s in the country,” Alex said matter-of-factly.

“That’s what I think.”

“What else?” Excitement now filled his voice.

She opened her eyes and stared at her email inbox screen,
seeing nothing. “He has a gun, a nine-millimeter Glock.”

“Shit,” Alex exhaled. “You saw enough detail to distinguish
the brand?”

“I can recognize a Glock.”
Don’t go there, please.
She
brushed her budding apprehension aside.

“What’s he doing with it?”

Juliana could tell that his coolness was deliberate, as if
speaking through clenched teeth.

“He was fondling it.” And himself.

She once again felt the kidnapper’s lust, and more. He
hungered for power, revenge, money and, of course, Jasmine. And another emotion
that escaped and confused her.

She related the rest of the vision, absently filtering
through her emails, not comprehending them.

After a lull in the retelling, Alex asked, “Anything else?”

“That’s it,” she hedged.

“He saw your eyes again, didn’t he?” he barked, not even
teasing at a question.

She flinched. No use dodging. The whole eye thing freaked
her out, and she could use Alex’s support. “Yes.”

“Damn it, Jewel. How can he see you? None of this makes
sense.”

She envisioned Alex’s fear and frustration, his hands
skimming through his hair and rubbing his scar.

“And my delving into his mind, feeling his emotions does?” She
avoided mentioning her discovery from Doc Brian’s research materials. “Trust my
instincts.” She glanced at her watch. “Got to go. I have a million things to
wrap up.”

“We’re not through with this conversation.”

“Sure, whatever. Call me later.” Clicking off her cell
phone, she provided him no opportunity to respond.

Like hell would she sit on her laurels and wait for the
kidnapper to connect with her. She had a tête-à-tête to attend where the short
list of invited guests numbered two—the kidnapper and Juliana Westwood’s mind.

* * * * *

It was easy to cajole stiff-necked Bremley into allowing her
onto the estate grounds without flashing a badge. Her playful machinations
yesterday hadn’t gone to waste. But she couldn’t discard the jitters erupting
inside whenever she was around him.

After a nod of approval at her BMW, Bremley pointed out a
shortcut to the guesthouse. Fully prepared, she arrived at the cottage, her
stomach coated with antacids and an unopened can of ginger ale clasped in her
hands. They were her tools of the trade.

Juliana hesitated before she touched the door handle. She
forced an inner peace to rise and conquer her fears. If her psychic abilities
now included touch telepathy, she’d have to work with the skill, and open her
mind to the psychic connection—on her terms.

Focusing her mind, she settled on the single thought
allaying her trepidation.

Alex.

The memory of his hands caressing every inch of her body,
followed by his mouth.

The thoughts filled her with energy, strength. She entered
the cottage at a tenuous peace with herself and her surroundings.

With a pang of doubt, she tied her thoughts of Alex to the
outskirts of her mind. She wasn’t sure if her plan would work, but it was worth
a shot.

Juliana recalled one of Doc Brian’s favorite phrases: “You
can’t see if you don’t look.” And look she would. His advice had never failed
her.

The crime lab technicians had performed their magic after
her vision yesterday. Confident she wouldn’t contaminate any evidence, she
slowly surveyed the room, scanning for items he might have touched. She’d treat
objects to the touch test once she finished eyeballing the rooms.

Unfortunately, she knew the master bedroom was the key. The
kidnapper and Jasmine were eager and voracious sex partners. They would have
made full use of the bed.

Looming dread followed her measured steps into the master
bedroom. A pastel floral motif decorated the cheerful room, from the thick
comforter on the queen bed to the wallpaper.

The room festered with his touch. The air sizzled with it. She
didn’t need to touch anything to feel
him
there.

The sensation that she wasn’t alone flowed over her like
cooling lava. She couldn’t shake off the overshadowing evil. A steady rhythm
beat behind her eyes. The vision worked its way through her, searching for a
crevice in her mind to crack open.

In a moment of near panic, Juliana eyed the bed. Icy dismay
attacked her. The bed was the perfect spot to experience the vision assailing
her from all four corners of the room.

Great place to pass out.
The dim thought would have
made her laugh in another lifetime.

Reconciled, she climbed on top of the elevated bed and
stretched out in the center. She ironed the comforter with her hands to feel as
much of him as possible.

The vision came fast and furious. Pain seared her head. Rage
slammed against the pit of her stomach. The bright and airy room became a cold,
inky cavern.

* * * * *

“Lisette, be a good girl and eat. I made it the way you
like.” With one knee on the bed, he coaxed her to take the bowl of cereal.

He had finally bent her to his will, reducing her to a
rag doll. She no longer needed a sedative. But why was she resisting him now?

Lisette sat listlessly on the corner of the bed against
the wall, as far away from him as possible. “Where’s Jasmine?” Her voice
trembled.

“Out.”

Anticipation of Jasmine’s return burned hot inside him. She
should have transferred the note to the courier by now. They should have
received the ransom at that stupid relic they called a house.

The house that should burn to the ground with its
occupants inside, to melt and wither away into a pile of ashes.

He granted them a favor by merely asking for money. They
deserved so much more. Maybe, after securing the money, a small spark
strategically placed…

He struck the thought from his head, a grim set to his
mouth. Leaning closer to Lisette, the bed shook under him. He almost upended
the bowl of soggy cereal on his freshly laundered pants. Lisette glued herself
even tighter to the corner.

“Take the bowl and EAT!” No one could ever say he
mistreated her by not feeding her.

His patience stretched thinner than a condom.
Damn
it, Jasmine, where are you
? The mere thought of her made him so hot. His
erection was instantaneous, hard, aching. He wanted out of the stifling room
before he lost his self-restraint.

Why is the brat disobeying me?

“This is the last time I tell you to take the bowl!” Teeth
clenched, he thrust the cereal at her at the same time she reached for it. The
bowl flipped, strewing soaked cereal and milk across the bedspread, and
splashing his khaki pants.

A heat-wave of fury deluged him. He struggled to remain
cool-headed. He couldn’t let her see him lose control, even though he wanted to
spank the shit out of her.

Rising from the bed, he spoke through gritted teeth, “Put
the cereal back in the bowl, and eat every bite. If the bowl isn’t clean, you
will be punished.” He backed out of the room.

She averted her eyes and started sopping up the soggy
mass.

She knew he was master. A jolt of smugness sent a grin to
his mouth.

He locked the door behind him and shoved the key in his
pants pocket. His fingers brushed against his hard cock, his anger having
stoked his arousal. If Jasmine didn’t arrive soon, he would have no choice but
to take matters into his own hands. Literally. He grimaced at the thought.

As he unbuttoned his trousers to relieve the pressure,
the sound of the garage door opening transformed his mood. Exhilaration swelled
inside him, ready to burst forth like a breached dam.

He jogged through the kitchen into the garage. Jasmine’s
librarian costume didn’t detract from his desire. With excitement painting her
face, the body of Venus under the dowdy clothes, she would look enticing even
through thick nerd glasses.

“Worked like a charm.” She giggled and ran toward him,
hopping up and down.

“Tell me everything.” He pulled off her fake reading
glasses and yanked the short black wig off her head, freeing the sun-drenched
blonde tresses.

“I met the courier as planned at the grocery store parking
lot. I gave him the envelope and the money.” She gloated, a feral grin on her
face.

“I followed him to the Chamber estate and parked behind
the neighbor’s bushes. The courier had to wait for some stupid Beemer. Anyway,
he dropped the envelope in the mail slot, hit the intercom and he was gone. It
was way too perfect!” She clapped her hands like a child.

He grinned as relief surged through him. “Come here. I
have a big present for you.” He shoved her against the shiny black convertible.

“Now? In the garage? You must be happy,” she cooed. Her
nimble fingers began peeling off his pants. “Don’t be so rough this time.” She
pouted.

Ignoring her, he gazed into the convertible’s rearview
mirror.

Sunlight streamed through the wide garage door, giving
him a clear view of the jeweled green eyes studying him. They startled him for
a split second. Familiar with them now, he knew another person had linked to
his mind.