Into a Dangerous Mind (24 page)

A cold chill ran through her, and instantaneously, a scene of a barren gray bedroom flashed inside her mind.

“Cass?”

.
 
But she had no idea how to zero in on it.

Another flash interrupted her vision.
 
She saw the glazed, staring eyes of the woman.
 
She turned to Zach.
 
“She’s dead.”
 
Her gaze drew to the right and she pointed to a driveway into a small apartment complex.
 
“There, turn there.”

Zach didn’t question her.
 
He turned the car into the small driveway and pulled off to the side and stopped the car. “We need to call for backup.”
 
He pulled out his Nextel and placed the call.

No questions, no doubts about her abilities.
 
Her mind reeled at the amount of trust he had in her powers.
 
She just hoped fervently she warranted his trust.

Zach’s hand closed over hers.
 
“Stop doubting your gift.
 
You can only learn to control it by using it.
 
Go with your gut.”

Cassidy nodded and let herself link with Zach until their backup arrived.

Zach and Cassidy stepped out of the car as Dix approached.
 
There were several Phoenix police cars and a few unmarked cars parked behind Dix.
 
Zach gestured at him as if to say, “why are they here?”

Dix stepped close so only Zach and Cassidy could hear him.
 
“The Agent in Charge called.
 
He’s getting pressure from all sides on this.
 
I had no choice but to include them.”

Cassidy looked at the two men standing closest to them.
 
One wore the khaki uniform of a Phoenix PD officer, and the other wore plain clothes with a rumpled tie, his face set into a cocky grin.

The man with the tie radiated waves of hostility and distrust in their direction, despite his look of outward amusement.

Zach nodded at Dix and stepped forward to shake hands with the representatives from the local police.
 
“I’m Special Agent Zach Hatcher, and this is Cassidy James, a civilian consultant on this case.”

Cassidy started.
 
A civilian consultant?
 
Zach seemed to be stretching things a bit.
 
She hoped she didn’t get him in trouble.

Dix cut in pointing toward the two representatives.
 
“Agent Hatcher is in charge on this scene.
 
Are we clear?”

The man with the tie, who’d introduced himself as detective Watters nodded.
 
“My men have been briefed.
 
We’re here as your backup.”

 
Aloud he said, “Miss James?”

After a supportive nudge from Zach, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and concentrated on the woman with the dead staring eyes.
 
The pull began and she opened her eyes and followed it.
 
It lead her off to the left next to a pool which had seen better days.
 
“It’s this way.”

Zach exchanged some orders with the local police who sent some of their men to surround the building.
 
The rest were to follow them to the apartment.

.
 
Cassidy started toward the pool, sidestepping plants which grew over the sidewalk.
 
She continued on until she passed a path which veered off to the right, and her pull suddenly disappeared.

When she stopped short, the men behind her stopped as well.
 
“What the hell are we doing?” Watters demanded.

are my backup, so shut the hell up and wait until you have the opportunity to back me up.
 
Clear?”

Watters didn’t look happy, but he ground his teeth and nodded.

“Okay, Cassidy, focus and get your bearings again.”
 
Zach squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

This time when Cassidy concentrated, the pull was much more intense and nearby.
 
Keeping her eyes closed, she tried to bring the location into view.
 
A brief flash of an apartment door with the number 757 on it surrounded by peeling gray paint flowed across her mind’s eye.
 
A notice taped to the door advised the post office had left a package with the front office.

Her hands shook as she opened her eyes.
 
She reached out to Zach to keep from swaying.
 
“Apartment 757, it’s down this path.”

Watters cleared his throat.
 
“I didn’t know the FBI called in a psychic for this case.
 
Why weren’t we told?”

Zach glared over his shoulder at the man.
 
“It was need to know, and you don’t need to know.
 
You just need to help us secure the scene after she finds it.”

being the most repeatable.

Zach seemed not to hear and motioned them all forward.
 
“Dix, keep Cassidy with you.
 
We’ll check out the apartment.”

Zach tried to put up his shields so Cassidy couldn’t see inside the apartment.
 

.”

.”

Cassidy’s temper sparked and flared.

.
 
She’d been the one to see Brian torture the woman, and she felt personally responsible.
 
“When he’s stubborn like this, I just want to kick him.” she muttered, kicking a boulder next to the path instead.

.”

Shock traveled through her.
 
Her phantom touch power seemed to be growing, and as usual, at the most inopportune times.
 
But she did let a small smug smile form on her lips—he’d deserved the kick for being so pompous.

“He’s just trying to protect you,” offered Dix.

“Don’t make me kick you too.”
 
At Dix’s puzzled expression she just shook her head.

They both jumped as Dix’s Nextel chirped.
 
“We’ve got her,” came Zach’s voice.
 
“Call the coroner, she’s dead.”

The Reaper stumbled into the dank alley behind the small mom and pop drugstore and listened for sounds of anyone in the area.
 
Moonlight spilled around him casting everything in a surreal light and forcing him to hug the wall to keep from being seen.

Tentatively reaching out with his powers to confirm he was alone, he stifled a scream as sharp arrows of pain ripped through him.
 
The inside of his head burned as if on fire, and he clamped his eyes shut until the world stopped spinning.

He knew he needed to rest and recover, but there was too much pain to sleep without shutting his mind down.
 
There was also the risk of them finding him by tracking his powers while he slept.
 
Strong tranquilizers were what he needed along with some recovery time.

He still had a small stash of Ecstasy, but that would knock his powers out for a few weeks and would leave him vulnerable if they found him.
 
Besides, he only used it sparingly as it deteriorated psychic powers with each use.

Once he healed, things would fall into place and he’d make his mother pay for hurting him.
 
For a moment, two faces swam in front of his vision—Cassidy James and his mother.
 
Since concentrating hurt, he relaxed and let the images merge.

After one more glance around to ensure he was alone, he pulled open the fuse box, cut the power to the building to disable the alarm and phone lines, and listened intently.
 
Hearing nothing, he moved to the back door and forced it open, his gun ready.
 
Nothing moved and he heard no sounds from within, so he slipped quietly inside and pulled the door shut behind him.

Neat rows of moonlight-dappled shelves carrying all manner of merchandise sat between him and the pharmacy along the back wall.
 
As soon as he found the tranquilizers, he’d come back to find some food and toiletries.
 
He would need enough to last him for a while.

Threading his way through the darkened aisles, he climbed over the counter in the back.
 
There were hundreds of boxes, bottles and vials.
 
Not sure where to begin, he knew he had to find what he searched for fast.
 
He began to pull boxes off the shelves—those which didn’t meet his needs piled on the floor, broken and scattered.

The crash of new items on his growing pile comforted him until he found bottles of morphine and some Vicodin.
 
“Either one of these should do nicely as long as I don’t mix them,” he murmured to the darkened room.

Zach opened the bottom drawer of his chest of drawers and rummaged in the back until his hand closed over a velvet bag.
 
He pulled it out, the sight of the purple drawstring pouch shot through him like a knife.
 
He feathered his thumb over the soft material and memories flooded through him like a movie stuck in fast forward.
 
He lifted the bag to his nose and inhaled.