(Psychic Visions 01) Tuesday's Child (31 page)

"But he couldn't have known that it was me on the road until he came right up to me."

Brandt considered that. "It's not out of the realm of possibility, that's exactly what did happen. And then he took advantage of an unexpected opportunity."

Sam wrinkled her face. "That's horrible." She grimaced. "At least, he doesn't know where I live." She chewed on her lower lip, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest. "Then again, it wouldn't be that hard with his connections, would it?"

Brandt tried not to watch as her breast plumped out against her skin. "As much as I hate to even suggest it, it's possible that he could have followed you, or even me."

Sam's eyes opened wide. "That's a horrible thought." She tilted her head, carefully considering him. "He couldn't have followed me, I haven't been anywhere today."

"No. Are you sure you lost the black truck yesterday?"

Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh, God."

He leaned forward gently patting her on the knee. "Don't panic. We're working on it. As soon as we have more information, I'll bring him in for a second and more informative talk." Excusing himself, Brandt headed outside to make the phone calls that would put things in motion. This needed to be dealt with now. As did something else. Just as he was about to walk out onto the porch, he called out, "Oh, yeah. I'll also be sleeping here tonight."

8:22 pm

"You want what?" God, the last thing Sam wanted to remember were other victims. She shook her head, hair flying widely about. No. No way.

"Please. It might help."

She stared at him. He didn't know what he asked. He couldn't. He'd gone outside to make his phone calls after dropping his first bomb. Then he'd come inside and had dropped a second one. The last remnants of her control fractured, splintering apart. He'd asked for details on other visions. She shook her head. This isn't how she'd imagined the evening.

"I suppose this could be difficult for you."

She half laughed, half cried. "You think?" she said, her voice rising. "You have no idea!" She spun away from him, her whole body shaking.

Brandt winced. "I'm sorry. If it's that hard then we won't discuss this. I didn't mean to upset you." He walked over, one arm outstretched to touch her gently, hesitantly before dropping it down to his side. "I thought it might help to give the victims a voice." This time, he placed an arm around her shoulders.

She stiffened, but didn't move away. In truth, she wanted to snuggle in deeper, only couldn't trust her emotions. "All victims or just those from this same killer?" She reached up gently to massage the nape of her neck. She hated her immediate defensiveness. There was no reason not to. After all, she'd wanted to be able to make a difference. Although, it might be a lot easier if she had a chance to talk to Stefan first. Maybe he knew how to help her through the process without the damage she knew would happen. She needed to ask him at the first opportunity.

Surprise lit up his voice. "I didn't know you could choose." He mulled over the concept. "If given a choice, and if there is the possibility of this killer having other victims, then that's where I'd like to start." He paused for a moment. "Although, if you have information on other cases, that would be a help too. We have an incredible load of unsolved cases."

"I don't know. I suppose I can try," she said. Her voice so soft and so sad, he thought his heart would break. "It might be easier on me if we do this after I work with Stefan a few times. Maybe he'll have a few techniques so I can protect myself." Sam watched the puzzlement wash over his face.

"Protect yourself? I don't understand."

He wasn't going to like her answer. "During recall, a lot of the same energy returns. I tend to slip between the visions and this reality."

"Whoa! Come again?"

A wry smile played around her lips. "Sometimes, the same method the person died from will manifest again – although to a much lesser degree," She rushed to add this last bit because she saw the horror starting to overtake his face.

"So you're liable to start bleeding again?" He shook his head. "Uh, uh. No way are we going there."

Sam couldn't help it. She laughed aloud. "The bleeding can be the easy symptoms."

He glanced at her in disbelief.

"Don't forget, one woman burned alive in a car accident."

"But we don't know that it wasn't an accident."

"No, you don't know. I do. Not only that, I know it was the same killer. I don't understand how or why, just that there was some connection."

Brandt shook his head as he pulled a small notebook out. "You're certain that these are all victims of the same killer?"

"Sure enough that you should do a search and link everyone they knew and every activity they participated in. The killer is there somewhere in the mess. Personally, I'd add Louise Enderby in there. She's the exception that could show you the rule."

Sam wondered as Brandt spent the next five minutes writing down something in a notebook. Then she realized she had something that might help, while not hurting her. "I'll be right back." She strode into her bedroom. They were here somewhere in one of the boxes. She rummaged through the first, and then the second stacked box before finding what she was searching for at the bottom. Sorting the books out, she grabbed up the one she wanted.

Brandt was on his cell phone when she returned. Not wanting to bother him, she refilled their cups with hot tea then sat down to wait.

"Right. Graph it out. I know it's far-fetched, but we haven't got anything else to go on so let's give this a try." He glanced over at her and smiled. "Let's pull all the data and cross reference with these other cases. If the information isn't there then let's get it." Brandt jotted down several notes in his notepad. "No. I'll come in early tomorrow. We can map out what we have then."

The conversation carried on a little longer and Sam blanked out. She flicked through the book in her hand, wincing at the notes. Very graphic and way too painful to read again, she wondered at her compulsion to write all this in the first place.

"What have you got there?"

Surprised, Sam looked up. "What?"

He folded and put away the phone. "So what's that you've got?"

"Here." She took a deep breath. Then as if making a decision, she handed the cheap, worn book over to him.

Brandt accepted it, glancing from her to the book and back again. "What is it?"

"My journal. It will have some dates and some details."

Brandt flicked through the lined pages, daunted by the sheer outpouring of her soul. "Is this about your visions?" He stopped, read a note, then turned the page. "How far back does this go?"

"It's close to being the first half of this year."

"This year?" Shock threaded through his voice.

"I have one I'm currently working on." She shrugged, unable to stop the self-conscious feeling. "I feel compelled to write down every detail I can remember after a vision. It's my way of letting the victims speak." She crossed her arms across her chest. "The thing is, I've never told anyone about these journals."

"Ever?

"No."

He bent forward, placing one hand on her knee. "Thank you."

A shaky sigh escaped. She nodded, a tiny smile on her lips. "You're welcome."

Brandt squeezed her knee gently, then sat up again. "So this is everything written here?" He slapped the book on this thigh, studying her face.

Soberly, Sam nodded. "Of those visions. I have more upstairs – at least twenty more."

9:05 pm

Brandt could feel the blood leach from his face. One of them? She had twenty more journals? Holy Shit. What kind of life had she had?

"A terrible one."

Brandt's head shot up in shock. His mind spun out of control. Did she just do that? Please, no.

"No I can't read minds. Your face on the other hand..." She grinned at his sour grimace.

He stared at the gold mine in his hand. He couldn't figure out what to focus on. She'd just handed him an incredible gift. Sure, he'd have to find proof, depending on her information, but she could give him a direction to start digging. Some of these cases might not even be in the files. Some could have been ruled accidental. Some could have been solved by now. Some killers could literally have gotten away with murder.

Sam's hesitant voice broke through his heavy thoughts. "I might be able to help in other ways."

He glanced at her in surprise. "You already have," he said lifting up the journal. "Can I take this?"

She cringed. "I don't really want the information shared with the rest of your team. Maybe read it over and see if there is anything useful. Take notes or photocopy the pages. I would like the original back."

"Absolutely. Photocopying is a good idea. And don't worry, I won't let Kevin or anyone else get their hands on this." Brandt knew the value of what he held. He wasn't planning on letting anyone else in on it until he could find the proof to match with the information. He flicked through the journal, stopping to read a page, wincing at the pain and the horror that dripped from the pages. Sam had come up behind to read over his shoulder, her long blond hair falling over his shoulder.

His nostrils flared as her fresh womanly scent sank in. He glanced up, still caught by her feelings so transparent, her torment so real, before just focusing on her now. How quickly she'd slipped under his guard. This gentle woman had experienced so much pain already. He wanted to make her feel better, to make the pain go away. Setting the book aside, he stood up and stepped up next to her.

She stilled, her eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

Brandt grinned and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. Sliding his arms around her, Brandt tugged her into a gentle hug. When she relaxed against him, he rested his cheek on the top of her head and smiled.

He hesitated. Should he even broach the subject? Still, if this wasn't a good time, when would there ever be a better one? "You know you're never far from my mind, don't you?"

Sam tried to pull back slightly, when he wouldn't release her she contented herself with tilting her head up instead.

"Really?" Her voice came out as a gentle whisper, full of wonder and enchantment. Brandt immediately fell under her spell.

"Really." He stared down at her porcelain skin, the huge eyes that said so much, yet nothing at all, and those lips. He hadn't noticed them the first couple of times he'd seen her, now they were all he could think about – so red and full, so very inviting, so very ready to be loved.

He couldn't help himself. He bent and claimed them for his own.

9:15 pm

Overwhelmed by his words, Sam was blindsided by the touch of his lips. They coaxed, yet entranced. She'd never been kissed in such a way before. She wondered if she'd ever truly been kissed. She craved his touch. She wanted so much more. That there couldn't be a forever, didn't matter. She needed this, right now, right here...with him.

Letting herself slide under the spell he wove so magically, her hands slid up to either side of his face, and she kissed him back.

Her lips twitched at his startled pause. Excitement surged through her as he turned the tables on her and deepened the kiss.

A moan escaped. Oh, Lord. Her legs had turned to jelly – she'd never felt so weak. He tightened his arms, supporting her against him. He lifted his head.

"Sam?"

She opened her eyes. God, he was beautiful. Inside and out. She wanted what he offered. She wanted not to be alone – at least for one night. "Yes."

"Yes? Are you sure?"

Her smile turned to a full-blown laugh. "Yes, I'm sure."

Her answer darkened his eyes to an almost jet black. She smiled, reaching a hand to stroke the side of his face. "Yes, yes, and yes." She snagged his ear and tugged him toward her. "So what are you waiting for?"

"For you. For a very long time."

Sam's heart swelled. She knew exactly what he meant. She felt the same. She'd waited so long, she'd become so accustomed to the sensation, she'd forgotten what it actually meant. Now, she knew. She'd been waiting – for him. For this.

Still, she couldn't promise much. She frowned, not knowing how to let him know. He placed a finger against her lips.

"Don't. Don't think about tomorrow. Don't think about any of the many 'what ifs,' just think about us – tonight."

She closed her eyes, the tension draining from her shoulders, and relaxed against him. "You're right."

"I know. That wasn't so hard, was it?" He grinned at her even as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

"Always got to be right, don't you?" She couldn't resist teasing him. He set her on the bed, only she bounced to her knees and started opening the buttons on his shirt.