Deceiver's Bond: Book Two of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (5 page)

I gasped and staggered back from the machine, yanking my hand out of Burke’s gloved fingers. I felt the blood leave my face. Lips numb, I stammered, “Do you know how many people have touched that machine?”

“No,” he admitted. It seemed my countenance had finally affected the deputy. He looked spooked.

“So many that I can’t even count them all. Over a thousand, at least. And I know what they were
thinking
.” I bit off the last word, looking hard at his face, knowing he could never understand what it was like for me to touch something so repugnant.

“Two weeks ago, a man named Robert Colton was booked in for DUI. I hope you know his whereabouts. I really do. Because he’s the monster who kidnapped that little boy. The kid I heard about in the news a few months ago. The one who never made it home from school. Kyle Winters? I know where his body is. God help me, I know what the murderer was thinking the whole time he was fingerprinted. Do you get it now? Do you understand why I can’t touch this stuff?”

My gorge rose, but I took a deep breath through my nose, hoping it would banish the sudden wave of nausea. I swallowed, hard. For a moment, I didn’t dare open my mouth to say anything.

A booming voice from behind startled me out of my queasiness. “Burke, Rollings. Is there a problem?”

I turned around to face another uniformed deputy. Fierce blue eyes announced the man’s displeasure. He stood something over six feet with a substantial neck and impressive shoulders. Like Burke, his biceps bulged against the fabric of his uniform as he folded his arms. I couldn’t help wondering whether their office had an employee weight room. There certainly wasn’t a lack of musculature in the near vicinity.

Looking past the physique and angry expression, I recognized his face from Lancer’s memories. This was the sheriff’s second in command, the one he’d argued with earlier in the morning.

“Deputy Collins, I’m Lire Devon. I think you can guess why I’m having a problem with being fingerprinted.”

He shot me a disapproving glance before returning his gaze to Deputy Burke.

“No problem, sir. I have things in hand.”

I stopped myself before I could roll my eyes.

“I see.” Collins examined me. “Did I hear that you know something about Kyle Winters?”

“Yeah. You wanna book me for that too?”

“An attitude like that isn’t going to sit well, young lady.”

“No, I don’t suppose it will, but you’d be testy too if you got a dose of the memories in that scanner.”

The scars around my wrists flared painfully and I realized my hands were clenched into fists. Blinking slowly, I took a long breath and made an effort to curb my outrage. Anger wouldn’t get me anywhere I wanted to be.

“Burke, how far’d you get?” Collins asked.

“Almost done. Just one more print. Still need to take the photos.”

“Bring her to my office when you’re finished.” As he walked away, he added, “And make sure she gets her gloves back.”

“Yes, sir.”

One more print and several mug shots later, Burke allowed me to make my phone call. I resorted to calling my own cell and asked Red to contact my sister. Giselle lived too far away to handle my case personally, but as a partner at a prominent firm in San Francisco, I was sure she’d know someone up here to recommend.

Collins’ office wasn’t far from where I’d been processed. A set of stairs and a security door brought me to his sparsely decorated space, accompanied by a grumpy Deputy Burke. I wasn’t sure why Burke was so pissed off. Maybe he thought my tantrum reflected badly upon his performance. I didn’t need another enemy inside the building, so I attempted to smooth things over.

“You should know Deputy Burke went out of his way to process me quickly. It’s not his fault your department doesn’t have the equipment to deal with people like me.”

Collins eyed my face before nodding at Burke. “Thank you, Deputy. You can go.”

After allowing me a moment to settle into a guest chair, he observed, “Trouble seems to follow you, Miss Devon. When that happens, people wonder whether it’s self-inflicted.”

“They’d be wrong,” I replied. “But, I’ll admit, lately my abilities have put me at odds with some bad people.”

“Bad people. Like Brian Stalzing?”

I grunted. “Bad is an understatement where he was concerned. The man was evil.”

“And others?”

It wasn’t a good idea to elaborate about Invisius Verso, and discussing the demon Paimon brought up too many disturbing memories. Instead, I said, “I know about the argument you had with Sheriff Lancer this morning. I have his memories. He touched me repeatedly during my arrest. I know what you both discussed. Actually, it seemed more like an argument, but maybe that’s just how you guys roll.”

“Lancer touched you, repeatedly?”

I grimaced. “Not like that, but for me it was inappropriate enough. He touched my skin without wearing gloves, grabbed my arm.” I cocked my left elbow, showing him the finger-shaped red marks on my bicep. “You know damned well he thinks I’m a fraud, so he wasn’t careful. Even after I told him precisely what he was thinking, he refused to believe. Total denial. That man has serious issues.”

Collins studied me, fingers steepled. “And what thoughts did you read, exactly?”

“If you’re digging for dirt, you can forget it.”

“The only thing I’m digging for is proof, Miss Devon. Tell me what we discussed this morning.”

I studied him with a skeptical eye before nodding.

I closed my eyes, remembering, and pitched my voice low. “You can’t believe there is any case against her. The FBI’s report exonerated her. This is a waste of resources. Even if you get Hastings to bring a case, you know there’ll be a change of venue. Danaher won’t preside. The press will have a field day at our expense. Lancer, let it go.”

When I opened my eyes, he regarded me with a fixed stare for a full ten seconds before giving me a stiff nod. “After that conversation, I contacted Agent Cunningham. He said one of your theories was far-fetched, but you delivered the goods on the Circle Murders case for the most part. Detective Jensen in Chiliquitham had similar things to say. Both confirmed you weren’t a suspect in Nick Coulter’s murder.”

I wanted to shake him by the neck.
Then why the hell are you just sitting there? You know full well Lancer’s a lunatic. Get off your ass and do something!

“I’ll talk to the DA,” he said with finality. “This is Sheriff Lancer’s show, but I’ll see what I can do.” Both his expression and tone remained indifferent, offering no promises. Leaning forward, however, he peered at me from under his sternly set brow. “Now, what do you know about Kyle Winters’ abduction?”

“Lancer gets wind of this and he’s bound to start formulating theories about how I was in on it or how I’m lying to get attention.” I blew out a breath. “But I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t do whatever I could to get that sicko behind bars.”

Collins leaned back, waiting.

“You guys arrested him about two weeks ago. His name is Robert Colton. The whole time he was being fingerprinted, he worried about you guys finding something in his truck, some shred of evidence that he missed cleaning up. I have his thoughts. Every horrible detail. Up here.” I jabbed my index finger at my temple. “Believe me, I’m not happy about it.”

“Is the boy alive?”

I pressed my lips together and shook my head.

“Okay, tell me what you know.”

“He lured the boy into his truck by saying he was looking for his lost dog. She was going to have puppies any minute and was probably somewhere nearby. He had a photo of a dog and waved it at him. When the boy ventured close, Robert pulled him into the cab. He had a knife and duct tape.”

I shivered. It was easier to think of him as ‘the boy,’ instead of Kyle Winters.

But not much.

Remembering the murderer’s twisted pleasure at the boy’s terror nearly drove me to my feet. I had the strongest urge to pace, or hit something, anything to keep my mind from considering the horror of …

I bit the inside of my cheek.

“Where’s the body?”

It took some time, but I restored my composure. When I finally answered, my voice was steadier than I expected. “With some investigating, you’ll be able to find his remains. The murderer has a friend, Lenny Walker, I think, who leased some land a couple of years ago for hunting. The parcel is somewhere northeast of here, out near a dried up creek. He dumped the body, inside a black garbage bag, in a culvert that wasn’t far from the graveled entrance.”

He jotted the information in a small notebook. “How and where did he die?”

“Robert strangled him, after …” I gasped and shook my head firmly. “With a cord. At his house.”

“We’ll look into it.” He tipped his chin at me, his expression softening. “Did you get your phone call?”

“Yeah. Just before Deputy Burke brought me up here.”

“I’ll take you back down,” Collins said, standing.

When we arrived downstairs, Collins approached Deputy Burke.

“Put her in W2,” Collins told him.

“Yes, sir.”

“May I please keep my gloves?” I asked.

Collins frowned as though I’d been silly to ask. “Yes. That’s why I want you in the smaller cell.” He considered the deputy. “Are we clear, Burke?”

“Yes, sir.”

Collins turned on his heel, but over his shoulder, he said, “I’ll be with Hastings.”

Burke escorted me to the holding area, which was around the corner and down a short hall from intake.

The twelve-by-fifteen-foot concrete cell smelled strongly of disinfectant, but at least it was empty, and I had my gloves.

Still, I was thankful I didn’t have to wait long.

Burke returned not more than ten minutes later, looking mildly annoyed. “Attorney’s here. Let’s go.”

The deputy led the way out of the holding area to a nearby room. The door he opened was metal with a small window, just like the other security doors in the building, except this one hadn’t required a keycard or buzzer. He held it open, allowing me to enter first. Inside, there was a small table, two chairs, and a man I didn’t expect to see.

“Daniel. What the heck are you doing here?” I took in his appearance. Tan slacks, eye-catching tie, and conservative blazer—it was a good look for him.

He smiled and then directed his gaze over my shoulder. “Thank you, Deputy. I’ll buzz when we’re finished.”

When the door closed, Daniel said, “I’m your attorney. What else would I be doing here?” He cocked an eyebrow at me.

“Uh-huh.”

He laughed. “Sit down. Let’s talk.”

The heavy-duty plastic chair was hard and uncomfortable but a damned sight better than the concrete bench in the holding area. I sat across the table from my childhood friend, Daniel Stockard. He’d tied his golden-brown hair into a low ponytail. The bluish cast of the fluorescent lighting muted the warmth of his hazel eyes. I’d once gazed into those eyes flush with the first stirrings of juvenile love. But that was ages ago, back when we were both students at Coventry Academy, before he was whisked away by Invisius Verso.

Since he was a powerful telepath, I was thankful my talisman blocked him from reading my thoughts.

I kept my voice low. “Are they allowed to listen or record our conversation?”

“No. This room is specifically for meetings with legal counsel. By law, it can’t be monitored.” Daniel waved a dismissive hand at our surroundings and leaned back in his seat. “I’ve not read anything—or anyone—to make me think otherwise.”

“You happen to come across Sheriff Lancer?” It wouldn’t have surprised me one bit if Lancer planned to secretly record my attorney-client privileged conversation. Admittedly, Daniel wasn’t an attorney, but Lancer didn’t know that.

“Yes. But if you’re worried, we can talk like we used to.”

“No, we can’t.”

He regarded me, momentarily puzzled, and then nodded. “Right. You have a ward.”

“Why are you here? My sister is contacting an attorney for me. I hope you’re ready to deal with that when he or she shows up.”

He shook his head. “Already taken care of.”

“How did you—?”

“Red called me.”

I blinked. “He did?”

“Yeah. He called Detective Vanelli first, but couldn’t reach him. He got me on the second ring.” He tilted his head to the side. “But when he called, I was already on my way. I’d gotten word from one of my associates that you were here. I told Red not to call your sister.”

“One of your associates?” I peered at him before briefly closing my eyes. “God, no. Not again. Please, tell me telepaths are
not
the reason for this.”

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear it, but things have been uneasy within the organization. Even more so since Brian was killed.”

Just the mention of the Circle Murderer’s name made me shudder. The image of Brian’s fevered expression, as he ordered his summoned demon to kill me, clawed its way into my thoughts. I shoved it away before I could dwell on that day’s grisly details.

Reluctantly, Daniel added, “In fact, our side has broken away. The rest of Invisius has elected to move against you.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Goddamn it. They should be freaking grateful I helped stop that murdering son of a bitch. How much more clear can I make it that I don’t want any part of your stupid club’s internal struggles?” Leaning back in my chair, I threw up my hands. “I seriously don’t get it. Why are your associates going out of their way to involve me? They’re practically
ensuring
I fulfill the prophecy, yet that’s something they supposedly don’t want.”

“First off, they’re no longer my associates. Let’s get that straight. And calling Invisius a stupid club isn’t helping. These telepaths are far from stupid. If you continue to think of them that way, you’re not going to survive for long.”

Any possible retort dried up in my throat.

He sighed. “Look. It doesn’t matter how you feel about the prophecy. It doesn’t matter that you don’t want to be involved. At some point in the future, you will be responsible for reordering Invisius. It has been predicted. It’s already started and there’s nothing you can do about it. Whether you think it’s true or not is immaterial. As long as you live, they believe you’re a threat.”