ChasingShadows (4 page)

With an arm around Andrea’s waist, Alex led her into
Lisette’s bedroom. She slumped down on the twin bed and described the missing
clothes and shoes. When finished, she began crying with renewed vigor.

“Enough for now,” Alex said through the lump in his throat and
made a dismissing gesture with his hand.

Andrea suddenly swung around and frantically rummaged
through the tousled bed covers. “Her bunny’s gone. It’s her favorite.” She
dabbed at her eyes with the tissue. “At least she isn’t alone.”

Small consolation. Alex jotted down a description of the
stuffed animal. He had given the white bunny to Lisette the day of her father’s
funeral a year ago. She never slept without it.

Alex carried Andrea into her bedroom and made her lie on the
rumpled bed. He whispered calming words that did little to defray her grief.
Sharon’s husband Matthew, a doctor at the local hospital, had sedated her. She
refused to swallow the pill at first, but Alex convinced her that Lisette
needed her strong, clear-headed and calm. Finally, Andrea’s best friend arrived
to relieve him and he felt confident enough to leave his twin for a while.

He joined the other detectives in the living room and
wrapped up the crime scene investigation. They installed a wiretap on the phone
as the final task. The media swarmed outside like killer bees, waiting for a
chance to interview the lead detective and the victim’s distraught mother. An
officer remained at the front door to keep the horde away.

Alex strode out to James’ truck and jumped into the
passenger seat. He felt strangely detached, as if this crime hadn’t happened to
his sister or his niece. Reality hadn’t set in entirely—the terror hadn’t
completely seized him.

James slid into the driver’s seat. “Westwood’s meeting us at
HQ.”

Alex stared out the windshield, his entire body strung
tighter than a guitar. Rage simmered below the surface of his control
threatening to break through with a vengeance.

“You don’t have to be there when I question her. Best if
you’re not.”

“Best for whom?” Alex asked with deceptive calm before he
slammed the dashboard with clenched fists.

* * * * *

Juliana parked in the visitor lot behind the PD. She glanced
out the windshield at the red-gold sun blazing in the periwinkle sky. A breeze
chased away the coastal overcast that had blanketed the city overnight. She
closed her eyes for a moment, unable to block out the evil blemishing the
glorious day.

She accidentally bit the inside of her bottom lip as she got
out of the car. The pain mercifully overshadowed her mounting apprehension for
a few seconds. Tendrils of hair escaped her hastily fashioned braid and tickled
her face in the light wind.

Detective O’Malley had instructed her to enter through the
PD rear door, since the media scavenged for their next meal in front. She
appreciated his forethought and hoped it continued throughout the case. She’d
quit posing as shark bait for the media years ago.

Juliana shuddered at the memory of reporters waylaying her. In
her early twenties, she’d been the reluctant subject of a public paranormal
study. For the short time the medical and science community courted her, she
lost her independence and privacy. Worst of all, they’d treated her like a
one-person circus act.

It took years to achieve the anonymity she yearned for after
that fiasco. Then, two years ago, she’d unwillingly faced publicity again after
a leak at the NYPD divulged that she was assisting them on a headline-news
homicide case. It ended in a tragedy she wanted never to experience again.

She’d make damn sure the SJPD knew how much they needed to
keep a lid on her involvement. One slip and she could wind up the next victim. One
blunder and she’d permanently lose the tenuous tie to the kidnapper’s mind.

Juliana shooed her unwelcome thoughts away as a uniformed
officer identified and cleared her at the back entrance. Another officer left her
alone in the interrogation room used the day before. She eyed the digital
recorder added to the laminate table. The scent of burnt coffee lingered in the
room, making her nose itch. She wished she had a fresh cup of coffee to clear
her head.

Would Alex tag-team with Detective O’Malley? She saw no
reason for it. The SJPD website listed Alex as a lieutenant in the homicide
division. If luck were on her side, she wouldn’t have to see him throughout
this ordeal. Especially when his mere presence set her blood on fire. He was a
distraction she could do without for the time being.

Her head pounded dully despite the pain reliever she’d taken
before leaving home. Her stomach tried to flutter up in her chest.

The steel door swung inward, and Juliana jumped nearly out
of her seat. O’Malley stepped into the room—alone. A sigh of relief slipped
between her compressed lips.

No Alex.
Thank you, God.
She set to flogging down the
butterflies.

Nodding at the lean red-haired man, she said, “Detective
O’Malley.”

“Call me James.” His ruddy face was pinched tight, forehead
creased. An odd grief-stricken look shadowed his hazel eyes. He sat rigidly in
a seat near the door and threw a manila file folder on the table.

O’Malley gave off a distinct feeling of angry fear and
distress. Juliana suspected he treated his cases too personally. Not good for a
cop in Missing Persons. She knew from experience how abductions debilitated the
parties involved. A cop needed to remain objective and unemotional.

O’Malley turned on the recorder and recited the standard
who, what, when and where.

He straightened in his chair and folded his long arms across
his wiry chest. “You saw the news?”

“Yes.” She hesitated. “Before we continue, who’s behind the
glass?” She tilted her head toward the two-way mirror behind her.

His eyes narrowed. “Room’s empty.”

She didn’t miss his nearly imperceptible fidgeting in his
seat.

Juliana didn’t make a habit of using her telepathy to read
minds. She’d hate it if someone intruded upon her mind without her knowledge or
consent. In the past, hiding her thoughts from others offered the only privacy
afforded her. Throughout the years, she had finessed her telepathic abilities
to a fine art. Only in extreme circumstances did she allow herself an excursion
into another’s head.

One of those rare moments landed upon her.

O’Malley had lied.

“I need to make one thing clear.” Juliana pitched her voice
as insistently as she dared. “I can only help if you promise to keep my
involvement under wraps.” She leaned forward and tapped a fingernail on the
table for emphasis. “If the media gets wind of my involvement, your case is
done from this angle. And you need to keep my identity a low profile in the PD,
with only necessary personnel involved on a need-to-know basis.”

“Jamison said the same yesterday. He didn’t tell me why.”
Judging by the questioning slant of O’Malley’s eyes, he expected her to pony up
to the table.

Perfect.
He’d verified her authenticity with Jamison.
Relief trickled through her.

“Please, Detective—James. Remaining anonymous is crucial to
my ability to help you.” Her cool gaze fixated on his face, ever watchful for
changing expressions, clues to his thoughts without digging into his mind. She
leaned back and clasped her hands loosely in her lap. “When you chase out the
suits behind the glass, we’ll proceed.”

James hesitated, as if to gauge her plea, and then flicked
his wrist in a dismissive half-circle. He lifted the receiver off the wall
phone, punched in a number and issued the order to clear the room. A few long
seconds followed, then he replaced the receiver on the hook.

“Done.”

His mind was an open cavern, and she read him easily. The
people behind the wall had complied and emptied the room. He didn’t like it,
but he grudgingly accepted her demand.

She smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

“I know from an investigative standpoint why we’d want to
keep your involvement secret. What’s your agenda?”

“Simple. It’s devastating to my mental and emotional state
when I’m hounded and dubbed a lab rat.” She gave him a measured look. “That’s
how most psychics are treated when they’ve been exploited.” James nodded,
commiseration in his eyes. “And I’ll become a target.” She glimpsed and
accepted the understanding on the detective’s somber face.

“Once my head is clouded with such annoyances, the dreams
will stop.” Juliana swallowed the lump in her throat. “And I want to help find
the girl, not play showpiece for the police or the media.”

James’ face reddened, and he shifted his gaze away. Hurt and
frustration rolled off him in waves.

Confusion roiled inside her mind. James sat too close to the
case somehow. Did he know the child?

Imposing a rock-hard control, she broke the uncomfortable
silence. “Shall I tell you about my dream?” She fiddled nervously with her
braid.

James faced her again, his back ramrod-straight against the
chair, his expression grim. “What were you doing from midnight to five this
morning?”

She expected his insinuation. Any good cop would ask the
question. He didn’t know her from Eve.

As soon as she opened her mouth to speak, the door flew
open, forcing her gaze past James.

Alex dominated the doorway. The top of his head missed the
frame by mere inches and his massive body stood in a powerful stance. The
charismatic animal magnetism he exuded struck Juliana mute.

But she sensed more. Without looking at his face, she
discerned rage and an odd hint of helplessness ready to burst from him.

Sudden panic skipped across her heart.
Surely, after all
these years, he can’t hate me that much.

A fiery sheen of perspiration glazed her forehead. She
forced herself to draw several deep breaths of the cold air blowing from the
ceiling vent.

Alex slammed the door shut. The closed-circuit monitor in
the corner vibrated, its shaky hold seeming in jeopardy. He eased toward the
table across from Juliana. Emotions ranging from anger to confusion colored his
face.

The silence crumbled with Alex’s iron-edged voice. “Lieutenant
Alexander MacKenzie joining the interview, oh nine twenty,” he announced to the
recorder.

He sat down, leaned forward and planted his elbows on the
table, glaring at her from eyes burning like a rampant fire.

Juliana’s gaze dropped to her lap.
Don’t let him rattle
you!

After what seemed an eternity, but was in reality only a
momentary lapse, she lifted her head. Pain glimmered in Alex’s eyes before he
shifted his gaze to James and asked about their progress.

She waited for a prompt while watching the covert eye play
between the two cops. Finally, Alex leaned back in his chair.

James slipped back to his interrogator mode. “Where were you
between midnight and five a.m.?”

Juliana gripped her purse and cleared her mind. “I was home
asleep between midnight and five. I live alone and have no witnesses who can
verify it.” Her knuckles whitened, and she released her vise grip on her leather
purse.

James and Alex exchanged another one of those looks and Alex
nodded. What it all meant, she had no clue.

“We’ll return to your whereabouts and activities later.
We’ll also want to search your house. For now, tell us again how your ESP
works.”

Several bangs on the wall outside the door startled her, and
muted laughter followed. James and Alex ignored the ruckus and waited for her
response.

Heart beating erratically, she gathered her inner strength
and continued. “This morning, I experienced a vision of the actual kidnapping. I
felt the kidnapper’s thoughts, feelings and actions. I knew the kidnapping had
occurred when I woke up.

“I saw the crime happen as if I sat on the edge of the
kidnapper’s mind.” Or in his body. Nervously, she bit the blossoming bump on
her inner lip again as she recalled the kidnapper’s emotions creating physical
manifestations in her body. “I can’t tell you who he is, since I couldn’t see
him through his own eyes. Things he did were automatic to him, so I couldn’t
see or feel them unless he specifically focused on them.”

She crossed her ankles, shifting in her seat for a more
comfortable position to wake up her numb butt. “He has to be in an extremely
excited state for me to connect with his mind. Even then, things aren’t always
clear.”

Underneath the memorable scent of Alex’s cologne, she
smelled fear emanate from him. Fear of what?
Why is Alex involved in a
missing person case if he’s a homicide cop? Why is James so distraught too?
She
needed to dig to the bottom of their odd behavior before her curiosity drove
her batty.

Unless…the horrible thought entered her mind unbidden. Was
Lisette Chamber dead? Her mouth gaped open and she hastened to cover it with
her hand.

Waves of alarm engulfed her. “No,” she moaned and wrapped
her arms around her abdomen as she felt the blood drain from her face. The
warmth that had infused her since she entered the room turned to an arctic
chill.

“Jewel!” Alex bolted out of his chair and crossed the
distance around the table in a few steps. He knelt beside her, leveling his
face to hers. “James! Water!”

His voice sounded miles away. The door opened and shut in a
narrow vacuum.

“Look at me.” Alex lifted her chin.

His fingers were soothing and gentle. Heat radiated off him,
throwing her out of whack. The warmth contrasted sharply with the frigid Alex
who had first entered the room.

She looked deep into his eyes. “Why are you involved if
you’re a homicide detective?” Juliana managed to ask. “Is she dead?”

Alex’s face grew grave and his mouth stretched in a tight
grimace. “Lisette Chamber is my niece.”

His tender fingers dropped from her chin, and Juliana
suffered a twinge of loss.