(Psychic Visions 01) Tuesday's Child (34 page)

He nodded. "Right. So just be careful."

Paper rustled as Brandt casually sorted the stack of mail on his desk. There was a small padded envelope in the stack. Grabbing scissors, he cut the tape.

Sam watched him. "An early Christmas present?"

Brandt snorted. "Not likely. The paper came off and the top of the box followed.

"Ohh, God. What is that?" Sam cried out as a nasty odor permeated the room.

The captain dropped her hand and damn near pounced on the parcel. Bits of paper went flying. The lid was slapped down and both men donned gloves from a box sitting on the filing cabinet. As Brandt reached for the box again, the captain held his arm and nodded in Sam's direction.

Brandt, realization coming into his face, nodded and walked around the side of his desk. He put an arm around Sam's shoulders and urged her out the door. "Sam, come sit out in the hallway. I'll get you a coffee. There might even be a fresh pot, if you're lucky."

Before she had time to register the offer, she'd been seated outside, and he'd already returned with a hot cup of coffee and a stack of magazines. "I'll be right back. Sit tight."

Sam, her hands burning with the heat of the Styrofoam cup, sat in numb silence. For all their efforts, there was no way to hide the smell or the fast glimpse she'd seen. She couldn't be sure, but she thought the box contained an ear: a bloody ear, still wearing an earring.

Several men came in and out. She watched, blind to most of it. The office swelled with people. Someone dropped a stack of paper on the chair beside her, someone else came and picked it up. Sam saw a small piece of paper on the floor. Not bigger than a half inch and was mustard colored like the package. Surely, it was important, too. She couldn't let the idea go as people walked over it and beside it – yet always missed it. Taking advantage of a lull, Sam snatched up the tiny piece, before plunking down on her chair again.

Instantly, the station disappeared as an unexpected door opened. She couldn't think. She couldn't focus. She couldn't see. She was lost in a black haze. Her hand holding the hot coffee ceased to hurt. Her surroundings ceased to exist. She walked in a grey fog, pulled down a path she'd never walked before.

Evil called to her, laughed at her, and even caressed her arms as she travelled. She knew there was something she had to do. Some reason for being here. But what? She didn't want to be here. It was dark, scary, and so very cold. The smell, God, the smell resembled a garden planted full of decomposing bodies. She felt compelled to walk forward. The fear and uncertainty diminished. The need increased. By now, the blackness soothed even as it hypnotized. She walked forward, uncaring where she went.

Then she heard it.

Mocking laughter filled the air, her ears, and even her soul.

Sam screamed.

1:30 pm

Jesus. Sam.

Brandt bolted in her direction and still came in behind the group filling the hallway. Where was she? Her high-pitched scream shut off abruptly. Brandt wrestled through the crowd to her side.

The captain was already yelling at everyone. "Give her room. Come on everyone, move back."

The crowd grumbled, giving way under his orders – slightly. Brandt spun around and glared at them. "Come on. Give her some air for Christ's sake. Sam? Sam, are you alright?"

This time several of the spectators broke away and headed back to their own duties. Only a few of the braver souls remained.

One of them asked, "Do you want us to call for an ambulance?"

Brandt checked Sam over. Pallid whiteness defined her face. Blue veins pulsed steadily down the gentle line of her throat. She was breathing slowly, evenly. She was either right out from a vision, or she was comatose from an injury. As she hadn't been on her own long enough and there were no visible signs of injury, he presumed she was reacting on a psychic level. Her hands gripped a piece of brownish-gold paper clenched in one hand.

Not sure if he should be touching her at all, Brandt plucked the offending piece out of her hand and took a closer look. It appeared to be a piece from that grisly package. If so, it could explain her fugue now. Turning around, he found only the captain and Kevin remained.

"Is she okay?" Kevin stood to one side, doubt and confusion in his eyes.

"What's the matter with her?" whispered the captain, crouching down beside him.

Brandt opened his hand to show him the paper. "I think she touched this, unwittingly, and it's sent her in a psychic state."

"What does that mean?" The captain studied her. "She's awfully pale. Is she okay?"

"I think so. I don't really know."

Her position looked so uncomfortable. Her body slouched sideways. She'd fall any minute. His office wouldn't offer anything more comfortable. The captain was obviously thinking along the same lines.

"Can we get her into my office? We can lay her on the couch there."

"Only we're not supposed to touch her."

"But we can't leave her here. She's going to hit the ground in a minute."

Decision made, Brandt slipped his arms under her legs and back and carried her to the captain's office. Once there, he gently laid her down, her head on a pillow. She moaned with the jostling movements.

"Sam. It's okay. Take it easy."

Her eyes flickered. Brandt eased back in relief. She was waking up. He didn't know what had happened, though he could make an educated guess. She really had no control. When visions took her over, it was as if she stepped out. He couldn't protect her – not from her own abilities. Not an easy thing to admit. He admired her guts. But he was damn sure he could
not
live her life.

Sam's eyes had a glazed look as awareness slowly returned. She glanced around the room, a frown wrinkling her face. "Where am I?"

"This is the captain's office. We moved you in here so you could lie down. How are you feeling?"

"Huh? Did I have another vision?" Her frown turned pensive as she thought deeply. "There was such blackness. The world smelled dead." She turned to him, a wave of sadness making her eyes huge wells of pain. "It was her ear, wasn't it?"

At the reminder, Brandt winced. "I'd hoped you hadn't seen that."

"Just a glimpse." She rolled her head against the couch. "That was enough."

"I'm sorry. You should never have been exposed to that."

She grimaced. "Really, what do you think my nightmares are like?" Bitterness tinged her voice, melding with the sadness. Brandt managed not to wince again but just barely.

Staring around the room, he found the captain sitting at his desk, listening in. Kevin stood beside him, watching, a deep frown of concentration across his forehead.

"Did you..." Brandt hesitated, "Did you learn anything useful while you were in this place? Wherever it was." He studied her reaction.

"I don't know where I was either. I think..." she hesitated.

"Go ahead."

"I think I connected with the killer this time. But I can't be sure." She looked at each man, one at a time. "I think I was inside his mind. A black pit of darkness that lost its way a long time ago. He thinks you're all useless idiots and that you'll never catch him."

Kevin butted in. "That covers every criminal out there."

Brandt nodded, but kept watching Sam. "Anything else?

"He's old energy. He's been doing this for decades. He won't ever quit. You'll have to kill him."

"My pleasure." And Brandt meant it. He'd bring him to justice if he could. However if not, well sometimes that was the best way all around. "Do you know anything about what he's planning next? Where he is? What he's doing?"

Sam's eyelids drooped and a faraway look came over her pale features. "He's waiting. He's rubbing his hands gleefully and imagining your face, your reaction when you open the gift."

"Why? That
gift
doesn't make any sense. We already have his victim. The ear makes no difference." The captain spoke up for the first time.

A large tear welled up in the corner of Sam's eye. Brandt reached over and gently wiped it away.

"It's not her earring. It's her ear, yet another woman's earring."

"Another woman?" Captain Johansen surged to his feet. "What, there's another victim?"

"He thinks you won't figure it out. It's an older victim. His trophy from the drugged one. He doesn't want to keep it. She's not a memory he wants to honor. She was a failure for him."

"Sam." Brandt gently tapped the side of her head. "Sam, wake up."

"Is she aware of what she's saying?" Captain Johansen came around his desk to bend over and see for himself.

Kevin jumped in. "Do you think she was telling the truth?"

"The truth as she knows it. Yes." Brandt stroked her cheek gently, willing her to come to awareness. It took another moment before she opened her eyes again.

"Please quit doing that, will you? It scares the hell out me." He was rewarded with a half-smile. "Are you back now?"

It was weak but it was a nod.

"Then sit up," he said and half tugged her upright to lean against the overstuffed couch cushions. "Maybe now you won't go under again."

Sam curled into a small ball, huddling with her knees to her chin. A blue color highlighted her cheekbones.

"Jesus, you're freezing." Brandt searched the room for something to cover her. Captain Johansen walked over to a coat stand in the corner and pulled down a large wool overcoat. Sam gratefully snuggled under the warm material.

Captain Johansen asked in a diffident voice, "I know you're not exactly recovered but...do you have any other information that would help us?"

Brandt jumped in. "If you connected to the killer, does he have his next victim picked out?"

Her answer came out on such a soft breath the three men bent to hear her.

"Yes."

Kevin looked to Brandt, shrugged sheepishly, then returned his gaze to Sam. "Can you give us any details? Anything helpful that we might help us to find her?"

Sam shook her head slightly. "Only that she's close to him geographically. He watches her, follows her everywhere. His hunger is building. He's enjoying this stage. Soon though, he'll have to appease his appetite. Not yet. He has time to play."

Brandt wondered. "Do you get a sense that he works or has a career? Does money ever enter his mind?"

Captain Johansen added, "What about his location? Can you see any landmarks? Anything that tells you where she might be?"

"Only stores, a drugstore, a coffee shop, sidewalks. I saw only some of the scenes from his mind." Sam rested for a moment. "She's Caucasian."

All three men stared at her, startled. "You can see her?"

"Only bits and pieces." Keeping her eyes closed, Sam, in a monotone voice, said, "She's tall. He's taller. She's young, mid-twenties with long brunette hair." She fell silent again.

The men exchanged glances, everyone anxious for the one or two details that could make the difference between finding her, or not.

Not wanting to disturb her if she were getting more information, only he didn't want her zoning out again either, Brandt murmured, "Sam, you there?"

She opened her eyes slowly, as if they were weighted down. "She has a vehicle."

Kevin snapped forward. "Can you see a license plate? Make? Model? Color? Sam – anything?"

Brandt shot him an approving nod. At least Kevin appeared to be taking a solid step toward accepting Sam's abilities.

"Red, small, two door. Can't see a license plate. He's watching her get in the car."

Brandt, on a sudden thought, asked, "Sam, is he sitting inside his car?"

After a long moment, Sam nodded. "I can't see much. The windshield is tinted blue green. The seats are dark green."

"Bench seats or individual?"

"Bench."

"Old or new?"

"Can't tell."

After that the questions came hard and fast from all sides. Some she answered and more she couldn't. After fifteen minutes, all three of them had run out. Brandt couldn't believe it. He was exhausted, so he could only imagine how Sam felt. In fact, he leaned over to find she'd fallen asleep. He reached to tug the coat higher up her shoulders.

Nodding to the others, Brandt followed the men outside and closed the door behind them. Once in the hallway, Brandt leaned against the closed door and looked at the other two. "So, what do you make of it?"

Captain Johansen grimaced. "I have no idea. I sure as hell hope she's giving us viable information. But we don't have much else to go on. Period."

Kevin spoke up. "We might find a different DNA on the earring versus DNA of the ear. That will give us some idea."