Touching the Past (9 page)

Well, not a complete dead end. He’d figured out how the kidnapper had tracked his victims. At each table there was a sign-up sheet to receive mailings on future fairs or events. All the kidnapper had to do was stake out the address of a target, watch, learn their schedule, and pick the right time. Because they’d met him, they wouldn’t be overly suspicious about his sudden appearance.

“How’s the coffee?” Mallory asked from behind him.

“Terrible.” Zac turned to her. Seeing her, he spoke without thinking. “And you don’t look so good, either.”

She gave him a wan smile. “Thanks. Just what a woman wants to hear.”

Zac sloshed coffee into a plastic cup and poured in a generous amount of sugar. “Drink.” He pushed it into her hand and watched with concern as she swallowed. Her face was pale and her eyes overly bright, as if she had a fever. There were dark smudges under them.

“Ugh.” Mallory grimaced, looking into the cup. A slight tremor shook her hand. “That’s horrible.” A little color came into her face.

“I’ll treat you to a cup of Tim Horton’s dark roast when we get out of here.” Which was going to be soon, he promised himself silently.

“There’s a Tim’s around here?” Mallory instantly looked more alert.

“Probably, but I was thinking of the bag I have in my apartment.” Mentally he groaned. Talk about a bad pick-up line.

She grinned, the expression completely natural. “Is that how you lure women home with you?”

Now that Mallory seemed more relaxed, Zac felt some of his own tension dissolve. “Never tried it. Would it work on you?” he teased.

“Yes. No! I m-mean—” Mallory stuttered to a stop. Color flooded her face. She refused to look in Zac’s direction.

He chuckled, happy to see her looking more like herself and more than a little pleased at her flustered response.

“Have you found anything?” Her question was directed at the cup she was turning in her hands.

Zac sobered. “Nada. What about you?”

“Nothing.” She sighed. Her words were barely audible. Zac found himself leaning closer to hear. “So many impressions left behind, but nothing that will help us.” She looked up, her expression a mixture of sorrow and rage. “There are people here just for fun. Not expecting to get anything out of it but a good story for their friends. They don’t leave much of a trace. But the others. They have real problems. They’re looking for answers. For help. And—” Her hand tightened on the cup. The sides collapsed inward. Coffee spurted up and out. “Damn!”

Zac grabbed a handful of napkins. “You all right?”

Mallory held the dripping cup away from her. “Fine.” She took the napkin Zac offered and wiped her hand. “I just feel stupid.” Some of the coffee had spattered on her jeans. She dabbed at the spots on her pink sweatshirt with another napkin. “I should have been paying attention to what I was doing.”

“I understand.” Zac took the wad of sopping napkins and dumped them in the nearby trash can. “I feel the same—” Mallory shook her head. “No?” He arched an eyebrow.

“You can’t feel the same way I do.” Mallory’s gaze was fixed on the flower design of the carpet. “The ones who are really suffering. That haven’t dealt well—or at all—with some tragedy or trauma. They’re leaving bits of it behind. I’m sitting down in the chair where they’ve been thinking about it. Feeling the echoes of it.” Zac caught the movement of her shoulders as she shuddered. “It’s not as bad as if I was touching something of theirs, but...” She shook her head. “And the person they’ve come to for help isn’t giving them what they need. Just vague statements and platitudes.” She looked up. Her dark eyes were stormy. “It makes me so angry.” Her shoulders sagged. “And I feel so helpless because I can’t fix it.”

She was wrong. He did know how she felt. Too many times he’d had to tell someone their spouse had died because of a drunk driver or parents that their daughter was dead because she picked the wrong boyfriend, and he’d known that even if he found the person responsible and put him away, he still hadn’t fixed that broken life.

“I’m sorry.” The words weren’t enough, but they were all he had to offer. And escape. “Here.” He fumbled for his keys. “You take the car. I’ll catch a—”

Mallory’s hand came down on his. “I can finish.”

Zac looked up into eyes that still held a shadow. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m a big girl.” Her chin lifted. “I make my own decisions. I want to do this.” Her gaze shifted away from him. “I just…let it get to me.” She looked back at him, a determined smile on her face. “I just needed a break. I can do this. I
want
to do this.”

Protective instincts kicked into high. Zac wanted to push her out of the hotel, into his car, and get her away from here. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and keep her from ever being hurt again. He couldn’t stand seeing a shadow in those beautiful eyes.

But the more practical side of him argued that Mallory was his best hope of finding Beth and the others. That he
needed
her help. This was about more than the two of them. There were other people to consider and Mallory was willing.

He looked toward the center of the room. There were only five tables left. One was an author shilling books. That one wouldn’t take long. The rest they’d do together.

“All right.” He couldn’t decide by her expression if she was relieved or disappointed. “Let’s do this.” He took her hand, tugging her toward the remaining tables.

Chapter 10

Mallory hated to admit it, but it felt good to have Zac standing beside her. She’d been so sure she could do this, but she hadn’t been prepared for the volume and intensity of the emotions she’d opened herself up to.

She slanted a sideways look at Zac. He was filling in the “Notification of Coming Events” sheet, his name a bold, barely legible scrawl. She hadn’t bothered. Why had he? His mailbox was going to be filled with junkmail after this.

Her eyes widened as she watched him add her name beneath his own and then the address. He was definitely implying they were a couple living together. Why?

Before she could figure it out, he was introducing them as “Mallory and Zac” to the man behind the table.

“Do you both want a reading?” The man, a balding, inoffensive-looking type whose nametag identified him as “Jerry”, shook Zac’s hand. The nameplate set on the table gave his full name as Jerry Herkel.

“No.” Zac tilted his head in Mallory’s direction. “My girlfriend here’s the one really into this stuff.”

Mallory bit her lip.
Girlfriend?
What was Zac—Then she got it. It was a test of sorts for Jerry.

The tarot reader turned in her direction. His faded blue eyes crinkled at the edges as he gave her a toothy smile. “It’s always a pleasure to meet another seeker after truth.” He took her hand between his overly warm and soft ones. The back of his large silver ring pressed against her fingers. “Perhaps we can make a believer of him between us.”

Mallory barely heard him. Images were flashing behind her eyes, as sharp and clear as anything she’d ever seen. Faces mixed with places. No.
A
place. She saw blue steel walls. A cement floor. Hospital beds. She could hear a steady series of beeps and a sucking sound. Heavy breathing.

The faces were familiar. The ones from Zac’s files. All three of them. They were smooth. Still. Their eyes closed, with no sign of animation.

Over it all, though, was the emotion. Jerry’s emotion. A slick, oily mix of fear, anticipation, and satisfaction. And underneath a twisting undercurrent of proud disdain for anyone but himself.

It was him. He was the one.

Malloy forced herself not to snatch her hand from him. A voice in the back of her head screamed at her, warning her not to let him know she knew.

Fighting the nausea she felt, she tried to smile. “Maybe we can.” Her voice sounded stilted and unnatural to her ears.

Jerry squeezed her hand again. Did he know she’d seen? Mallory searched his face. His eyes didn’t seem quite as faded as they had a moment ago. Had he seen something in her expression?

She was afraid of him. She’d never been afraid of someone before. She knew that now. But this man, Jerry Herkel, frightened her. Terrified her. She couldn’t let him see it, though.

Taking the chair across from him, Mallory tried to keep a pleasant smile on her lips. Her hands clenched and unclenched in her lap. She felt Zac hesitate before he dropped into the chair beside her. Did he notice something was wrong? When she slid a quick glance in his direction all she could see on his face was the polite interest of a man humoring his significant other’s whims.

Jerry tapped the pack of tarot cards in front of him. “Shuffle these, please, and concentrate on the question you most want answered.” He smiled at Mallory, looking like a favorite uncle offering a treat to a beloved niece. There was something off about his eyes, though. There was something
hungry
showing through.

Mallory took the oversized cards with reluctance. She had questions, but they weren’t uppermost in her mind at the moment. Images flooded her mind again. Too many to make sense of, but with less intensity than the earlier ones. Hundreds of people had held these cards and left impressions of their hopes and fears. Over time they’d blended into a swirling mass of faces and feelings that were gone too quickly for Mallory to identify.

After a brief, unsteady shuffle, she handed them back to Herkel, trying not to touch him in the process.

He named each of the cards he laid out on the table, beginning with the first, the Star. He placed the Seven of Swords across it. He continued until six cards were in front of him. Three were reversed, facing Mallory, instead of Herkel.

Herkel sucked his lower lip in and out. He looked at Mallory. “Have you consulted the Tarot before?”

Mallory returned his gaze without blinking. “No.” It was the truth. She’d never had anyone read the cards for her, though earlier in the day on her circuit around the room, a woman had read Angel cards for her. Mallory did, however, know something about the Tarot. As a young teenager, she’d read about psychic phenomena, trying to understand her ability. Her reading led her to other branches of mysticism and the occult. She’d have some idea whether he was giving her an accurate reading. She took a chance, feeling her heart start to pound. “But my friend Beth Kennedy had a reading done and found it very helpful.” Would he react?

The expression on Herkel’s face showed only polite interest. There was no visible sign that he’d ever heard the name before. He nodded, pointing a stubby finger at the Ace of Wands. “You’ve recently begun a new enterprise.” His finger moved over to the Star. “And are impatient to see results.”

At her side, Zac’s chair reverberated as he shifted against its metal surface.

It was a fair interpretation and vague enough that it could fit anything from a diet to a new job. Or what she and Zac were doing.

“Your plan will fail and a desired merger will not take place.” Herkel’s gaze shifted from Mallory to Zac. The man was looking for clues. His gaze came back to Mallory. “Unless you control your emotions.”

Mallory dropped her gaze. He was just reciting vague statements. He didn’t know anything.
She
was the one making more of it, applying it to herself. It only sounded threatening because she
knew
what he was.

Herkel laid out four more cards in a row beside the pattern he’d already made: reversed Page of Swords, Queen of Pentacles, reversed Eight of Wands, and Queen of Swords. He shook his head over them.

“Something wrong?” Zac leaned forward in the chair. Mallory glanced at him. His hands were clasped together. Did he really believe Herkel had some special insight? Or was he just playing along? He’d seemed skeptical enough when they started, but a day spent in this atmosphere could make anyone lean toward believing.

Herkel shook his head again. “The cards suggest a separation coming.”

“Separation?” Mallory tried to sound surprised and alarmed. It didn’t take much effort. She knew the Queen of Swords could be interpreted that way, though it was also a symbol of grief.

“Yes.” Herkel nodded. “Feelings of jealousy and a sense of being unprepared lead to a separation.”

It was the kind of safe reading that could be given to a couple. Especially one that had different interests, as Zac had suggested they did when he first spoke to Herkel. They also, Mallory admitted, probably didn’t come across as very couple-like. They hadn’t spoken to each other since they sat down. Or shared a glance. Or even casually touched one another.

Herkel was speaking again. Mallory forced herself to listen. “I’m sorry, Mallory, that the reading wasn’t more positive.” He looked into her eyes. The expression in his didn’t match his words. There was a hint of satisfaction—pleasure, even—in them. As though he was happy about the idea of Zac and Mallory being separated. But why would he care?

Mallory made herself smile, though she was sure it was a weak effort. “That’s all right. We don’t always get to hear what we want, do we?” She started to stand. She needed to get away from him. “Thank yo—”

He cut across her words. “The setting often influences the reading. As well as the number of people present.” His gaze swept around the room. “If you’d care to try again sometime.” He picked a business card off the table. “We could arrange another reading.”

Mallory took the card, trying to touch as little of it as possible. “Thank you.” She half-turned to Zac. He was standing, his eyes slightly narrowed and focused on Herkel. “Are you ready to go?” Did her words sound as desperate to him as they did to her own ears?

Zac switched his attention to her.

The intensity of his gaze made Mallory pull back.

Zac’s expression changed at once, opening up to show concern and something more that she couldn’t quite decipher. “Whenever you are.” He took her arm. The heat of his hand made her realize how cold she was. He turned a bland expression toward Herkel. “Thanks, Jerry. It was—” He paused slightly before finishing. “Interesting.”