Firestorm (13 page)

She collapsed into the passenger seat and listened dazedly as he talked to Ledbruk.

“They're on their way,” he said as he hung up. “But the bridge over the river is five miles away.”

“He didn't take the bridge that night. He swam across.” She took a deep breath. “I don't feel him any longer.”

“Try.”

“Dammit, I am trying. I tell you, I don't feel him any longer. He's not there.”

“It's a long way.” He gazed at the woods across the river. “You lost him fairly quickly when he started moving away in the other two encounters. I'm surprised you could sense him at all at that distance.”

“So am I. It must be because this memory was so important to him.” She added bitterly, “It was his first kill and he was half out of his mind with joy. He didn't count the two hoboes. They were just a learning experience.” She straightened in the seat. “Let's go after Ledbruk. Maybe I can help.”

“I don't like the idea of you getting any closer to that bastard.”

“I'm not afraid. He doesn't like to make any moves without preparation and he doesn't take chances. He had this fire planned down to burning the telephone wires so that no one would suspect he'd cut them.”

“That doesn't mean he might not change. He followed you here. That was a big chance. Why would he do that?”

“I don't know.” Her hands clenched. “I don't know everything. Maybe he was looking for a chance to take his shot at me. Perhaps he thought it was worth running the risk. Let's go ask him. That's what you want to do, isn't it? Forget about me. You know Trask is the only thing important to you right now.”

He didn't speak for a moment, and she could see a myriad of expressions crossing his face. “Hell, yes.” He shrugged and started the car. “I'm glad you reminded me. What was I thinking? Let's go get him.”

T
rask was no longer in the woods by the time they got across the bridge. Ledbruk's agents were scouring the area when Silver drew up behind their car.

“You're sure you saw him?” Ledbruk was frowning as he walked toward them. “How the hell could you tell it was him from that distance?”

“I could tell.” Kerry got out of the car. “He was here.”

“Past tense,” Ledbruk said sourly. “I've got a bad feeling that we've missed him again. God, I'm tired of it.”

Kerry had the same feeling. “You're probably right. He knows this countryside. He grew up here.” She gazed at the heavy thatch of trees. “But you've got to try.”

“Do you think I don't know that?” Ledbruk said. “I do my job. No stone unturned to find that snake.” He turned and walked away.

“He's not in the best humor,” Silver said. “Not that I blame him. He's done as well as he could, and it must be frustrating as hell to be let in on only part of the picture.” He glanced at her. “Any vibes?”

She shook her head. “I don't think he's here.” She leaned back in the seat. “But we're not leaving until Ledbruk confirms it.”

“Suits me.” He gazed after Ledbruk. “We'll wait until he gives up on the bastard.”

Ledbruk didn't give up for another four hours. “No sign of him. I'll leave two men here to keep searching, but I don't believe they're going to find him. You might as well go home.”

Silver looked at her inquiringly. “Kerry?”

She nodded wearily. “Let's go home.”

9
                                                                                                                                                

Y
ou look exhausted,” Silver's glance was on Kerry's face as he drove through the gates of the estate four hours later. “And you haven't said a word since we left Marionville.”

“What is there to say? We lost him.”

“But you didn't expect to even have a chance at him. Think positive: You did what you set out to do. You became more familiar with the son of a bitch's psyche. That kind of concentration might even have helped you to increase your distance capability of contact. Those woods were pretty far away.”

“Distance capability. Lord, you sound scientific.” She shook her head. “I know you're trying to encourage me, but I can't think bright and happy thoughts right now. I'm too close to that poison that Trask was slinging at me.” She opened the door as he stopped before the front entrance. “Maybe tomorrow. Right now I'm not seeing how much progress I might have made. All I can remember is how it felt to stand there and have Trask ripping me with his venom and to know I didn't have any control. I couldn't fight back. I was just a damn vessel.” She started up the front steps. “And I'm remembering that you could have helped me and you didn't. If you'd done what you promised, I might have had a chance to be something besides a whipping boy for him.” She opened the door. “So, if you don't mind, leave me the hell alone for a while.”

“For a while,” he said quietly. “Not for long, Kerry.”

She slammed the door behind her and headed for the staircase. No, he wouldn't leave her alone. She was too valuable. He needed her. But that need had to be satisfied his way. He had to be the one in control. Well, she'd had enough of being—

The house was curiously silent, she realized suddenly. Where was George? She'd become accustomed to having him pop out of the library with one of his dry comments. He'd become a welcome buffer between her and Silver.

Maybe it was just as well he'd absented himself. She wasn't in the mood for humor, dry or otherwise. She just wanted to go to bed and not think of Trask or that poor Krazky family or her own sense of helplessness.

She had kicked off her shoes and was unbuttoning her blouse when her cell phone rang.

Probably Jason. He'd called two nights ago to tell her that Laura would be leaving the hospital soon, and she'd asked him to phone when they were settled at the hotel.

“Kerry?”

Her hand tightened on the phone. Her father was the last person she wanted to deal with right now. “Hello. What a surprise.”

“It shouldn't be a surprise.” Ron Murphy's tone was faintly sardonic. “I asked Jason to tell you I wanted to see you. He told me you were going through a bad patch.”

“It's Jason who's been having a bad time. I'm fine.”

“That's what you always said. Every time I tried to help, you closed up on me.”

“As I recall, the last time you tried to help, I ended up in Milledgeville.”

“For God's sake, you were—I thought it for the best.” He drew a deep breath. “Let it go, Kerry. Life's too short to hold grudges. I've found that out lately.”

“I'm not holding a grudge. I'm just wary.” This conversation was becoming unbearably painful. It had to end. “Why did you call?”

“You're my daughter. Isn't it reasonable I'd want to make sure you're safe and well?” When she didn't answer, he paused. “And that fire at Jason's house
was . . . unusual.”

She stiffened. “Do you think I set it? My God, I
love
Jason.”

“Don't be ridiculous. You're jumping to conclusions. I never said anything about—”

“But isn't it what you'd expect from a nutcase? Isn't that why you put me away?”

“I put you away because I wanted to get you well. And I know you'd never intentionally hurt Jason or Laura.”

“Intentionally?”

“I've been nosing around, and there's no doubt the fire was arson. But other than that fact, I haven't been able to discover anything else. The lid's been closed down tight and no one's talking. Then I hear that you're taking an extended leave from your job and are out of town. Now, I know damn well you'd rather be close to Jason and Laura at this time. So what's happening, Kerry?”

“What do you think is happening?”

“I think you might be getting into something that might prove dangerous. I ask myself why an arsonist would wait to burn down Jason's house until the night you came.”

“And what did you answer?”

“You deal with crazies all the time. Maybe one came out of the woodwork and decided to get even. But that doesn't tell me why the arson investigation has been put under wraps. Or who did it.”

“And all your journalistic contacts are coming up with no info? How frustrating for you.”

“It's more than frustrating. For God's sake, I won't be shut out of this, Kerry.” A hint of anger layered his voice. “Jason is my son and I was looking forward to being a grandfather. I'm mad as hell and I want to find out who did this. I think you may know who it is. Tell me, dammit.”

“So much for calling to make sure I'm safe.” She interrupted wearily when he started to speak. “I don't blame you. Why should you be worried about me? We're not even on the same wavelength. Never have been. And I think you're probably telling the truth about your concern for Jason.”

“Thank you,” he said sarcastically. “I'm glad you believe I have some human feelings.”

She had never doubted he could feel affection. She had just never been able to reach out and touch him. And after Milledgeville it was the last thing she wanted to do. “Jason and Laura are safe. I made sure of that. I'm safe too. Stay out of it.”

“The hell I will. Where are you?”

“Stay out of it,” she repeated, and hung up.

Christ, that had been difficult. She felt raw and hurt and angry, as she always did after she talked to her father, and tonight she hadn't needed that additional aggravation. Close it away. Don't think about him.

She half expected to hear the phone ring again. As a father, Ron Murphy might be hesitant. As an investigative reporter, he had no such compunction. And he wanted to protect his son and get to the bottom of the fire that had hurt him.

The phone didn't ring.

Good. Now go to bed and forget about him and all the memories he had resurrected. He was no longer important in her life. The only problem he might pose was getting in the way of her finding Trask.

Go to bed and forget him. . . .

Y
ou never forget him. He's always there.” Silver was leaning against the weeping willow tree beside the lake. “Because you refuse to deal with him.”

“The hell I do. What do you know about—” She stiffened in shock, her gaze circling the all-too-familiar scene. “What the devil are you doing to me?”

“You know what I'm doing. What you asked me to do.” He looked out over the lake. “I didn't really want to use this scenario, because I was afraid it would bring unpleasant memories, but you gave me no choice. It was either this or barge in and risk doing damage.”

“Damage?”

“You weren't ready. Two days' infiltration wasn't enough. I needed much more. But you're so resentful now that I can't wait any longer.”

“Infiltration.” She repeated the word as if it had a bitter taste. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Your mind has too much resistance. I had to slide in on the sly and undermine the barriers.” He smiled. “Even now it's going to be an uphill battle.”

“On the sly.” Her lips tightened as she worked it out. “You broke your promise.”

“I didn't break it. I was invited, remember?”

“I didn't expect—For the past four days you've been—You didn't give me warning, dammit. I was willing to let you help me, but it's not fair of you to—” She drew a deep breath. “What have you been doing to me?”

“Just what I told you. You thought you were ready, but you were wrong. It would have taken me weeks to get anywhere. We don't have weeks.” He picked up a stone and threw it skipping across the lake. “This last encounter with Trask bruised you. You need healing. You were comfortable here with me before, so this is where we stay.”

“It's not real.”

“But it's comforting. You like the sun on your face and the flowers and the lake. It's all very soothing, and you're going to need comfort.”

She couldn't deny that. She felt . . . exposed, naked.

“I told you that you wouldn't like it.” He turned to look at her. “There's nothing more intimate than what we're sharing. You're afraid of intimacy.”

“We're not sharing. You're invading. I don't see you letting me go prancing through your mind.”

“Good point. I'll make a bargain with you. When you're ready, I'll let you have a peek.” He chuckled. “If you can take it. My mind isn't nearly as clean as yours.”

“I can take it. Am I asleep now?”

“Yes, it's easier getting through to you. It may take a while to reach you in a waking state.”

“I hope to God you're never able to do that.” She braced herself. “Okay, we're here. Start teaching me.”

He shook his head. “Easy and slow. Relax.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

“I could help.”

“No, you can't.” She tried to ease the stiffness of her muscles. “There's only one kind of help I want from you.”

“Then do it yourself.” He yawned and leaned his head against the trunk of the willow tree. “And while you're at it, start thinking about your father.”

“What?”

“He's one of the barriers we have to get rid of.”

“He has no place in what we're doing.”

“Yes, he does. I have to clear the path.” He closed his eyes. “Or you have to clear it yourself.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “Are you going to sleep?”

“Probably. I'm tired. I haven't had any sleep in the last two nights, and we can't go any further until you get used to the idea that we're together.”

“And you're just going to leave me here?”

“I'll be with you. I can maintain the scenario.” He smiled faintly. “I know you so well I can do it in my sleep.”

“I don't know if I want you to maintain—”

“Too tired.” He yawned again. “Wake me if you have any
questions. . . .”

He was asleep, she realized with indignation.

Of course he was asleep. She was asleep too. This was only another one of Silver's manipulations.

And the concept was too confusing to cope with right now.

She gazed out at the lake. It looked blue and deep and clean. She wondered if she'd be able to feel the water on her hand if she touched it. Probably. Silver was nothing if not thorough.

But she didn't want to test him. She was tired and on edge and wanted nothing more than for Silver to stay asleep so that she didn't have to deal with him as well as his damn scenario.

And, okay, at least it was a pleasant escape from reality. She could feel a soft breeze blowing her hair gently away from her temples and bringing with it the scent of spring violets. He had this dream world down to the last detail. How did he do it?

Stop worrying about Silver's talent. It existed, and she must use it as he intended to use her.

Are you listening, Silver?

No response. Maybe he really was asleep.

A little of her tension eased as she stared at him. His lips were soft and slightly parted, and his body reminded her of the boneless relaxation of a cat at rest. He didn't look nearly as intimidating as he did when he was awake.

Had he left some posthypnotic command to make her think that? she wondered suddenly.

“No.” He opened his eyes. “Just got rid of the barriers. You wouldn't trust me if I messed around with anything else.” He closed his eyes again. “Now will you let me sleep?”

“How did I wake you up?”

“Sharp . . . We're linked now and I can feel the sharpness. . . .”

Linked.

She felt an instinctive rejection. She didn't want to be linked to him in any way. “I didn't think it would be—I don't like it.”

“Too late . . . We'll talk about it later.”

Too late.

Because she could feel it too. Just a ghost of a tether, but it was there.

All right, she had asked for it. Accept it.

She forced herself to look away from him and out at the lake. Relax. Get used to it. The sooner she learned what she needed, the sooner the bond could be broken.

Open your mind. Close your eyes. Relax. Ignore that strange feeling of being joined to Silver. . . .

I
'm leaving you now,” Silver said.

She opened her eyes to see the sun going down over the lake and the light mellowing to soft twilight. How long had she been here? she wondered. She had drowsed and woken and drowsed again.

“Long enough.” Silver smiled at her. “And now you're going to sleep deeply and wake calm and rested.”

“That sounds suspiciously like a posthypnotic suggestion.”

“Just a suggestion. Take it any way you want.”

“You don't ever use hypnosis?” she asked skeptically.

“I told you, not with you. I promise. Sometimes I'm forced to use a form of it with a disturbed mind.”

“For instance?”

“Gillen.”

“The man you talk to on the phone. Who is he?”

“One of Travis's walking wounded. He's in an asylum in upstate New York. I've been working with him. He's a tough case. He was already unstable before he was injured and went into a coma. I use everything I can with Gillen.”

“To put him back together.”

“If I can. Sometimes it doesn't work. Good night, Kerry. . . .”