The Innocent: FBI Psychics, Book 2 (13 page)

“You didn’t.” He bit it off, his voice cold and harsh, a slap against nerves still raw from the past few hours. “My daughter is gone, and who knows what happened to her, who took her, what they did to her, where they left her. And that’s all you have to offer me. You
know
something. I can see it. I never believed in this shit, but I can see it in your eyes that you know something. You let me put my hands on you—”

His voice broke and he whirled away, driving the heels of his hands against his eyes as a raw, ugly sob left him.

“Linc.”

He didn’t seem to hear her.

Moving across the room, she put herself in front of him but he still didn’t hear her as she said his name again.

Reaching up, she caught his wrists, but he moved away, so sudden and fast it knocked her off balance.

She ended up tripping. Her exhausted body and heavy feet had her on her ass and she banged her hip on the coffee table as she went down, catching her weight on her right wrist and biting back a groan as pain jolted up her arm.
Yeouch…
She sat there a moment, taking stock.

It wasn’t until she felt his eyes on her that she looked up.

He watched her, his gaze remote.

Jay didn’t let it affect her as she climbed back up, ignoring the throb in her hip. Other than her wrist and hip, she was fine. “I don’t know what you
think
you know,” she said, her voice soft. “But I didn’t pick up on anything solid about DeeDee until this morning.”

His lip curled in a sneer.

Flexing her hand, then tightening it into a fist, she advanced on him. “If you look at me like that again, I just might knock that look off your face, tough guy. And I can do it. So keep it up,” she warned him. “You just admitted that you don’t know shit about psychics—that means you don’t know shit about psychic ability. You also don’t know shit about how I work, so you’ve got no room to cast judgment and, I can assure you, I wouldn’t have been fucking you if I’d had anything concrete about your child.”

“Nice to know a group of charlatans have a code of ethics,” he said.

She swung out.

He moved, but not fast enough. She hadn’t planned on hitting him with her right.

It was the upper cut with her left that caught him and she was more than a little satisfied to see him stagger a little.

Her hand throbbed and she flexed it as she glared at him. “I’m not a charlatan.”

“Yeah?” He rubbed his jaw. “What the fuck am I thinking then?”

“Oh, please. I’m not Miss Cleo.” She turned away from him and put the length of the room between them. “And I’m not telepathic. I’m an empath—that means I read emotions, Sherlock.” Her gut was hot, tight. It wasn’t everything going on
here
that did it, either. Too many years spent doing this warned her what it was. “Listen, we don’t have time, so I’m going to give you a crash course on psychic skill.”

She looked back at him, tried not to jump when she realized he’d closed the distance, stood less than three feet away. She sidestepped. He followed. “Some distance, if you would.”

“You didn’t want it last night,” he reminded her, his voice menacing, silky.

“Last night, you wanted to be on top of me. Today, you look like you want to wring my neck.” She stared at him pointedly. “It makes a difference.”

He didn’t give her any more room and she suspected he wouldn’t. But there was no time. “Crash course,” she muttered. “Empathy means I pick up on emotions.”

“Then tell me what I’m feeling.”

She could have done that just by looking at him but she wasn’t going to lie to him. “You’re a psychic null.”

“Is that what it sounds like?”

“Yeah.” She had her suspicions on why but she wasn’t going into that here. “You’re basically a closed book. You don’t give anything out.” If things were different, she’d tell him how wonderful that was, how restful. But they weren’t different.

He curled his lip. “How convenient.”

“Do you want to hear this or not?” She inclined her head.

“I want to know what the fuck is going on and whether it’s connected to DeeDee.” His blue eyes all but cut into her. “And I’m almost certain I never told you her name. What have you been doing, digging around for info? Is that how you…work?”

She bit back a sigh and turned away.

“I caught bits and pieces when I saw the picture,” she said, catching sight of it from the corner of her eye. He followed the direction of her stare and she saw his face go tight, watched as his gaze darkened. “You suspected then. You should have just asked. Asked…and been ready to hear the answers.”

Then last night wouldn’t have happened. She didn’t know whether she should be grateful it had or not. She was going to remember that night in vivid, painful detail. And she was going to regret, bitterly, that it would never happen again.

“You said you
weren’t
like her.”

“No.” She reached up, absently stroked the rose on her neck. It was time to add more thorns. One for Linc. One for the night they’d had. One for all the nights they’d never have. “I said I hadn’t come here for DeeDee. You chose the interpretation.”

That damned sense of urgency settled on her again. Hot and driving. Moving to the window, she stared outside at that one spot where everything had snapped into place. “I sleepwalk sometimes. I’ve done it since I was a kid. It’s not as common now—usually happens when there’s a hot case going on. The sleepwalking is tied to my abilities somehow. At least that’s what the specialists tell me. I set alarms on my house. Loud noises will wake me up. A loud noise, a bright light, a touch. Anything out of place will bring me out, but it will also disrupt the vision.”

Vision…

Linc wanted to laugh it off.

It would be easier if he could.

But she was staring at that spot again.

The place where he’d fought with DeeDee.

Where he’d found Jay earlier, when Robyn had touched her and she’d started to scream.

“What vision?” he asked, the question ripping out of him.

She opened her mouth to answer.

Before she could, Taige appeared in the door.

She’d dressed.

Her ID was around her neck, her weapon at her side. She tossed a bag at Jay’s feet. “It’s time.”

Jay moved slowly, almost like she was drugged.

But in seconds, she was up to speed, grabbing her bag, moving to the door.

“I’m not done,” he growled.

She stared at him and then abruptly, she reached up.

“I heard her…arguing with you,” she said. “She wanted to go out with a boy. Blayne. DeeDee was angry because you wouldn’t let her grow up. You worried because the boy was trouble. You made her go to her room, locked the door. You feel guilty over that—I can’t
read
that off you, but I see it in your eyes. Don’t feel guilty. She would have left anyway, at some point.”

Unaware he’d even moved, he closed his hand over her wrist, staring at her with stark eyes.

She…son of a bitch.

She knew.

She
knew
.

“Tell me you can find her,” he demanded. “I want to bring her home. I want to put her to rest.”

A sad smile curved her lips. “I plan on finding her. But Linc…it won’t be what you think. I don’t think she’s dead.”

She pulled on clean clothes in the pretty little restroom off the side of the main hall. It looked like one of those quaint little water closets from days gone by. Hand-painted wallpaper, towels too soft and so precisely folded, even if they were a little musty from lack of use. There was a fine layer of dust along the back of the toilet.

She suspected this restroom hadn’t been used in a while.

Focusing on the little details was a necessity.

It let her subconscious filter through everything.

By the time she was ready to actually approach it head on, she’d be ready for it.

He was coming with them.

If he wasn’t—or if he
hadn’t
been—in law enforcement, she’d probably cut him out. It might require physical restraint, or clever maneuvering to lose him on the roads, but Linc had been a sheriff. He knew what they were dealing with.

It wasn’t going to be easy and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

He was aware of that.

He didn’t entirely believe her, either.

That would make this easier, in some ways.

Opening the door, she met his eyes and then looked at Taige, standing by the door.

Cullen waited near the steps with Robyn.

“I’ll call with updates,” Taige told him.

He just gave a short nod.

Robyn, her hands linked at her waist, looked at them, confused. “Do—” she licked her lips and cleared her throat, “—you think you have information then? On DeeDee?”

Taige gave her a professional smile. “Following up leads, that’s all, Ms. Bronwyn.” She was good at handling potentially tricky questions. She’d been doing it for years.

A few minutes later, they were out of the house.

“We need a bigger vehicle,” Taige said, scowling at the sleek little bullet of a car that belonged to her husband and her. It was a Mercedes. Jay had recognized that much. Part of her wasn’t pleased with the idea of a
bigger
vehicle. She wanted to ask why, but she knew better.

Linc didn’t bat a lash, just headed to the right and circled around the sprawling manor of a house.

They arrived at what she assumed was a garage and he hit the lights. There were four cars, one a cute little VW Bug, and she watched as he passed by it, touched it with his hand. The gesture left an ache in her heart. Then he moved straight to a big, black Ford Explorer. “Big enough?” he asked, looking over at Taige.

“Perfect.”

They all climbed in and, without another word, drove off into the bright morning sunlight.

It was hot out, the sun blistering in the sky.

But Jay was cold, freezing right down to her bones.

Taige spoke little, in simple monotones as she gave directions.

It was his town, but she was calling the shots here.

Jay had worked with bloodhounds before. She knew how they worked.

Closing her eyes, she wondered how long this would take.

Her nerves were frayed already.

Relax. Breathe. Relax…

Under normal circumstances, even on a run-of-the-mill job, she could calm her mind simply through will alone. She had iron control over her emotions when she needed it.

This wasn’t the ideal time, it wasn’t the ideal day.

Everything was different on this job.

Never get personally invested
, she’d been told.

By her boss, Oz.

By various people both from the company where she worked now and the Bureau. Getting personally invested was a recipe for disaster and there had never once been a time when it was an issue.

Not until now.

And now was a time when it was crucial to remain distant.

Since she couldn’t rein her emotions in the normal way, she resorted to meditation.

A cool, blue light, the sound of rushing water, all around her. She let it surround her, sank into it. It was sweet, a welcome relief against her frazzled nerves.

Peace.

There was nothing but peace.

There was—

“Son of a
bitch
!”

Only years behind the wheel, dealing with drivers far more dangerous than that fool, kept him from plowing into the dark red Jaguar that had pulled out in front of him. Even though he no longer carried a badge, he automatically cataloged everything he could about the car, the make, the model—and the tall, older blonde who’d just climbed out of it.

He reached for his weapon.

Taige, riding shotgun, reached over, laid a hand on his wrist. “Don’t. We know her.”

“I don’t.”

Jay sighed. Just the sound was enough to send a shiver down his spine and he damned himself. Damned her. He was still pissed, still angry. He believed her—he knew when he was being lied to, but it didn’t matter. His daughter was there. Lost, and it was time to bring her home, grieve, let her go—his chest knotted and he refused to think about what Jay had said. He couldn’t think about it.

If she was alive—

“She’s my boss,” Jay said.

The door behind him opened.

He shoved his open as well, went to grab Jay but she evaded him, moving like water out of his grasp. He swore, striding to catch up with her as she met the blonde woman in the middle of the road.

It was early and he lived in a rather out-of-the-way area but there were still cars coming.

He glared at Ed Zimmer as he laid on the horn. Zimmer caught sight of him, gulped, and then darted around the vehicles, his eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead of him.