Dark Powers (2 page)

“Meaning what?” Ben asked.

“Meaning that the power structure in Doncaster wants to make sure nothing interferes with the town’s income.”

“You mean the police chief would hush up a crime to keep the tourists coming?”

“If the town fathers wanted him to do it—and he thought he could get away with it.”

“Hard to believe,” Ben muttered.

“You’ll see what I mean when we get there. It’s not like living in the Baltimore-Washington corridor. It’s isolated. Insular. And dependent for its prosperity on people who see it as a charming place to visit and spend money.”

Ben kept his voice hard, trying to sound discouraging. “I’ll have a better chance of finding your sister if I don’t have to babysit you.” It wasn’t what he was really thinking, but he chose that way to express his negativity.

As he’d assumed, her reaction was equally negative. “You won’t have to babysit me,” she snapped.

The next comment she made was addressed to Frank and a surprise to Ben. He’d been trying to get her to back off. Instead she asked, “Are you sure this is the best man for the job?”

Frank kept his voice even in the face of the obvious animosity between client and agent. “Absolutely. He has special skills that will be invaluable.”

“Like what?”

Frank began flipping the gold eagle coin again. “That’s information that we only give out on a need-to-know basis.”

“I need to know,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Frank answered, still playing with the coin. “You’ll have to take my word for it.”

She scraped back her chair and stood. “I guess I came to the wrong security company.”

Ben debated for a moment. It was tempting to let her walk out, and it was also tempting to see her reaction if he shared his secret.

He glanced at Frank who nodded almost imperceptibly. Keeping his voice even, Ben said, “I pick up information from dead bodies.”

“You mean like on
CSI
? You’re a forensics expert?”

“No. I can . . .” He spread his hands. “Listen in on dead people’s last memories.”

Sage laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“It’s not a joke.”

Sage studied him.“What does that mean exactly? Are you claiming to be a medium or something?”

“I’m not claiming anything. As it happens, I died a few years ago, and the emergency room staff brought me back—with a new ability.”

She kept staring at him, probably wondering if they were shitting her.

Ben fought not to say anything he’d regret. He wasn’t going to defend himself. He had a special talent that he’d acquired the hard way, and Frank had thought it would be a useful tool for a Decorah Security agent. Today he thought it would help in finding Laurel Baker.

Her sister didn’t believe he could do it, and right now there was no way to prove it to her.

He let out the breath he’d been holding when she sat back down.

As he wondered why he cared what she thought, she said, “I’ll reserve judgment.”

He shrugged. In the parking lot, when he’d held her in his arms, he’d been attracted to her. That was before he’d experienced a taste of their working relationship.

Or maybe they’d find Laurel at the father’s house, and this would all be over before it started.

Frank pushed back his chair and stood. “Are we set, then?”

“Yes,” Sage and Ben answered at the same time, both of them grudgingly.

Ben turned to Teddy. “See if you can dig up any similar cases in Doncaster.”

“If they left footprints, I’ll find them,” he said.

When they were alone, Sage cleared her throat, and Ben tensed, expecting some caustic remark about his detective skills.

Instead, she surprised him by saying, “I’m sorry. We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, and it’s my fault.”

“No problem,” he mumbled, thinking of the adage
the customer is always right
. “You’re under a lot of stress.”

“I’m not usually this uptight. But Laurel is my baby sister, and I’m worried sick about her. It’s all I can think about. That’s how I almost got run over out there.”

“I understand.”

She paused for a second and said, “I guess I feel guilty about what’s happened to her.”

“What do you have to be guilty about?”

“I left Doncaster and moved to Baltimore because I wanted to make a break with small-town life. I tried to keep up the connection with Laurel, but that’s hard when you’re a couple of hours away. I mean, we did Skype and e-mailed, but it’s not the same as living in the same house.” She cleared her throat. “It wasn’t just leaving Doncaster. I had to get away from Mom, too. So I understand Mr. Decorah’s questions about her wanting to leave, but I know she wouldn’t just run away.”

“Uh huh.”

“Did you ever lose anyone you loved?” she asked suddenly.

He reared back. “Did Frank mention something to you?”

“No.” Her voice turned anxious. “Did I say the wrong thing again?”

“My sister.” He glanced away. “She took a dangerous job, and I couldn’t save her life.” He knew she was waiting for him to say more, but he wasn’t going to get into anything personal.

He looked back at her. “Let’s start with Gary Baker and hope we find her there.”

oOo

Sage followed Ben Walker into the parking lot, wishing they’d gotten off to a better start together. She’d been wound up with her own fears and insecurities, and she’d jumped down his throat. Now she’d have to tread carefully around him, which was too bad because they were going to be stuck with each other for a while if Laurel wasn’t at Gary’s.

On the other hand, he’d shocked her with that claim about his paranormal abilities. She’d never put much stock in mumbo jumbo. But maybe he thought he had something special. He’d said he’d died. She’d like to ask him about that, or did she really want to know? Maybe it was better to keep their relationship as professional as possible—and reserve judgment on his psychic talents until he proved the claim or not.

Pausing in the early summer warmth, she turned her mind to logistics. “I guess I can leave my car here. Let me get my travel bag.”

“You were prepared to go down there?”

“Yes.”

His tight nod told her he wasn’t looking forward to riding in the same vehicle with her after the way she’d tried to get him kicked off the case.

This time she came to a dead stop and looked both ways before crossing the parking lot. There was no traffic coming and no pickup truck in sight. Quickly she carried her bag to his Honda and put it in the trunk beside his.

While she adjusted her seat belt, he consulted the material he’d scooped up from the passenger seat, and she studied him covertly.

He was a good-looking guy. Tall and dark with a strong jaw and large hands. Under other circumstances she might have let herself speculate about him, but she was too focused on finding Laurel to think about anything else.

“You know where Gary lives?” she asked.

“I’ve got the address and a GPS.” He punched in the address before pulling out of the parking space.

As they headed down Route 1, Sage cleared her throat. “Can I make a suggestion?”

“Sure,” he answered, not bothering to sound enthusiastic.

“He might not let us in, but if we get inside, I want to look around for signs of Laurel. You can ask him a bunch of questions. I’ll pretend I have to go to the bathroom and do some snooping.”

“Okay,” he answered, and she took his agreement to be a good sign.

“Are there any places he could hide her?” he asked. “Like a secret room in the basement or something?”

“He loves her. He had a bedroom all fixed for her when she was allowed to visit. He wouldn’t put her somewhere uncomfortable.”

“How does she feel about him?”

“She hasn’t seen him in years. My mom kind of turned her against him.”

“So if she acted hostile, he might restrain her?”

Sage thought about that. “I hope not. But he can be violent and impulsive.”

“Great. Would he kidnap Laurel to get back at her mother?”

“After all these years? Not unless something had happened that I don’t know about.” She waited a beat before saying, “Just try not to provoke him.”

Chapter Two

Laurel Baker said a little prayer.

“Please, God, let this be a nightmare. Let me wake up and find out I’m home in my own bed.”

Of course, when she opened her eyes, nothing had changed. She was in the same place where she’d awakened yesterday with a headache and a foul taste in her mouth. It was a frilly princess bedroom with a pink bedspread, gauzy pink curtains, tons of fluffy pillows, a fairy-tale castle painted on one wall, and a collection of dolls on the shelves of a hutch. An environment that any little girl would love. With the emphasis on
little
.

It was hardly the kind of room eighteen-year-old Laurel would have chosen.

And no way would she have elected to find a manacle around her right ankle—attached to a chain bolted to a metal plate that was secured to the wall.

She could only move so far from the bed—like over to the covered bucket that she was supposed to use as a toilet. A jarring intrusion in this prissy room.

She clenched her teeth, got up awkwardly and crossed to the bucket where she peed and put the cover back. The stuff in there was starting to smell, and she hoped the guy would empty it soon.

Well, that would mean she’d have to see him again, but she was pretty sure she didn’t have any choice about that. He’d be coming back, and she’d better be ready to face him.

Face.

She couldn’t hold back a mirthless laugh. She couldn’t see his damn face because he was wearing a black hood over his head, with small circles cut for his eyes and mouth.

But maybe it was better that she couldn’t see his features. If she couldn’t tell anyone who he was, maybe he wouldn’t have to kill her.

She made a moaning sound and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, rocking back and forth. Several minutes passed before she was sure she wasn’t going to start crying. Would he see her cry?

Once again she scanned the room. As far as she could tell, there were no cameras watching, but she was no expert on video surveillance.

The last thing she remembered before waking up here was finishing her shift at the Crab Shack. She’d gone outside and started walking toward her bike, and somebody had come up behind her and clamped a wet rag over her nose and mouth.

She’d dropped like a stone. The next thing she knew, she was here.

She touched her hair. It should be light brown, but she’d seen in the mirror over the dresser that he’d dyed it blond. And dressed her in a frilly little girl’s dress that matched the room.

Again she fought tears. At least he hadn’t raped her. She prayed it wasn’t sex that he wanted. Unless he was into having sex with children.

Another thought circled in her mind. Was he hiding his identity because she knew him? Like could he possibly be her father? He’d kidnapped her a long time ago, and Mom had gotten her back. Had he decided to do it again? She hadn’t seen him in eight years. Would she even know him if she fell over him?

oOo

As they approached Gary Baker’s house, Ben heard Sage drag in a breath and let it out before saying, “Can I ask you a question?”

Wondering what was coming, he kept his eyes fixed on the road. “Okay.”

“You said you got impressions from dead people.”

“And you think that’s a bunch of crap?”

“No,” she answered, and he thought the denial was probably reflexive.

The inquiry came in a rush. “What I want to know is—did Frank Decorah send you because he thinks Laurel is dead?”

He heard the fear in her voice and made his answer gentle.

“No. He sent me because he thinks the same thing might have happened to another girl—or girls. And if I find their bodies, I might be able to see the murderer.”

“Oh.” She took a moment to digest that, then hit him with another question. “You said you died. How?”

He clamped his hands on the steering wheel, then forced himself to relax his grip. He didn’t want to talk about himself, but it was a question he’d ask if the shoe were on the other foot.

“I was a police detective in Baltimore. Working narcotics. We raided a warehouse, and I got shot in the chest. I was dead before they got me to Union Memorial.”

“Did you see that bright light they talk about?”

“I didn’t get that far. It was like I was hovering above my body, looking down at the doctor and nurses working on me.”

She nodded. “And when you recovered, you went from the police force to Decorah?”

He turned his head toward her briefly before returning his attention to the road. “I spent four months in rehab. I was ready to go back to the Baltimore PD when my sister disappeared.”

“Like Laurel?”