by Lena Gregory
“Calvin Morris. She’s met with him several times, but something seemed off.”
“What do you mean, off?” she demanded.
Bee shook his head. “I don’t know, exactly. Cass?”
“Huh?” She couldn’t just sit there dialing Stephanie’s number all night.
“I said, what was off about Calvin? I don’t know much about bookkeeping; that’s why Stephanie handles all of mine.” Bee’s voice shook, but he held himself together.
“I don’t know. She wasn’t specific, just said things didn’t add up.”
Rawlins turned her attention to Cass. “What makes you think she’s with him now? The fact she was supposed to meet him?”
“No, I . . . uh . . . I saw them together at the hotel this afternoon. He was standing behind her turning a ring around his pinky.” They had to get to her, had to find them, fast. “In my vision, he was standing behind her, feet apart. I couldn’t see his face, but I could see his hands, and he was twirling the ring around the same way he had earlier.”
“Okay.” Chief Rawlins held her hands up. “Let’s all calm down. It’s very possible she’s just sound asleep and didn’t hear the phone.”
“This many times?” Cass held up her phone. She wanted to throw it against something, but then she’d have no way to contact Stephanie or get word if someone else did. At least she felt like she was doing something each time she dialed her number. “Besides, her husband is a detective on an active murder investigation, with not one but now two bodies. Stephanie isn’t sleeping that deeply anytime soon.”
Cass sat and put her phone on the table, then shoved her fingers into her hair and squeezed. There had to be something she could do besides sit there at the table with her head in her hands and wait for news. She’d tried to contact Tanya but was met with only silence. The vision would no longer appear to her no matter how hard she tried to focus. It seemed any psychic skills she may have once possessed fled with the realization Stephanie might be in danger.
Bee dialed Stephanie’s number again, then slammed the phone down onto the table.
Cass already knew he wouldn’t reach her.
Chief Rawlins barked orders into her phone, then she hung up and stared at Cass.
“Anything?” Cass held her breath.
She shook her head, her expression guarded. “They can’t find her.”
Tremors tore through Cass. Stephanie had been her best friend growing up, was still one of her best friends. If anything happened to her . . . She should have figured it out sooner. Should have realized Stephanie was missing and started searching so much earlier. She sobbed, not that it would do any good, but she couldn’t keep the emotions pent up any longer. “What are we going to do?”
The chief squatted in front of Cass’s chair, elbows resting on her knees, and stared directly into her eyes. “First, I need you to calm down.”
“How do you expect me to calm down?” Cass twirled the fire agate between her fingers, desperate for something to do to help. “How can you sit here so calmly babysitting me while Stephanie’s missing?”
The chief tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, her gaze on Cass intense. “I’m not babysitting you. I’m waiting.”
Cass jumped up and paced. No way she could sit there with the chief’s gaze drilling holes through her. She passed Bee as he paced in the opposite direction.
Chief Rawlins stood, interrupting Bee’s path.
He stopped. “Well, I don’t know how you can wait so calmly. Shouldn’t you be out there looking for her?”
Cass wanted to intervene, to tell Bee not to take his frustration out on her, but she didn’t have the energy.
Chief Rawlins ignored him and continued to study Cass. “Make no mistake, I am fully prepared to move forward with this investigation. My two best detectives, both personally invested in this case, are out there following any and all physical evidence they can get their hands on.”
Cass stopped pacing. “Physical evidence?”
“That’s right.” She moved toward Cass, stopping when she was only about a foot away and standing face-to-face. “Are you ready now?”
“Ready for what?”
“If you’ve calmed down enough to proceed, you seem to be our best shot at finding her.”
“Me?” A lot of good she would do. Her emotions had clearly done something to dampen any messages she might once have received. The only thing that would register for her now was fear. Gut-wrenching terror for Stephanie’s safety.
“Well, so far you’ve provided our only clue that she is even missing. If you’ll trust me, I think I can help. I’ve done this before.”
“Done what?”
“Worked with psychics to search for missing people, but it will require your trust if I’m going to help guide you.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Cass would do anything at that point if it meant finding Stephanie.
“How did your other cases work out? Were you able to find the people who were lost?” Bee’s voice quivered and he clasped his hands tightly together in front of his mouth.
“We were able to find some in time.”
Cass’s hopes sank. If real psychics who were used to working with the police had only managed to find some of the victims, how on earth was Cass supposed to succeed?
“We can’t afford to waste any time. Do you trust me, Cass?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation whatsoever, not only because she’d do anything to find Stephanie, but because this woman’s confidence inspired trust.
“Okay, then, let’s go.” She strode toward the door.
Cass followed, with Bee right on her heels. “Go where?”
Chief Rawlins waited while Cass unlocked the door, then locked up behind them. She gestured toward her car parked in the lot. She must have had someone move it from down the boardwalk where she’d parked when she arrived. “Sit in front, Cass. Bee, you can come, but only if you can sit quietly in the back. You absolutely must not interrupt.”
Bee nodded wildly and hopped into the backseat.
Cass got into the passenger side beside the chief. “Okay, now what?”
She started the car. “You tell me.”
Cass closed her eyes. She had no clue which way to go. Why did Chief Rawlins have such high expectations? What is it she wanted her to do? “I don’t understand.”
“Let your instincts guide you, Cass. I don’t know how your abilities work, but you do. Reach out in whatever way usually works, and give me your gut instinct. Which way?”
She tried to relax, to gain focus, but fear for Stephanie muscled its way into her thoughts, crowding out everything else, threatening to consume her.
The chief shifted into Drive and crept down the boardwalk. The tires crunched against the drifts of sand that wind and people inevitably dragged from the beach to the road, despite its being swept back often. A siren wailed in the distance. Something related to Stephanie’s disappearance? Most likely not, since the chief hadn’t been notified.
Bee shifted, the leather seat creaking beneath his weight.
“Are you there, Tanya?” Cass smoothed her fingers over the fire agate. “I could use a little help right about now.”
A sound intruded, soft, barely noticeable, repetitive. Cass reached for it. Whirring, followed by a soft squeak. Again and again. Whir, whir, whir, squeak. Whir, whir, whir, squeak.
Where was it coming from? She tried to block it out, to concentrate only on Stephanie. The image returned. Stephanie lying on the ground, gray surrounding her, hazy. Calvin standing over her, twirling the ring around his finger. Whir, whir, whir, squeak.
Louder this time. “What is that?”
“What’s what?” Chief Rawlins hit the turn signal and slowed to make a left off the boardwalk, headed toward the center of Bay Island.
Cass tried to concentrate on the sound. “Turn the signal off!”
The chief immediately did as instructed.
Bee slid forward in his seat.
Cass latched on to
the sound. Something to do with Stephanie? She listened closer. Repetitive. Something to do with Morris’s ring turning. Turning. Turning. Whir, whir, whir, squeak. Like a wheel. An image flashed beside Stephanie. Only for an instant, barely anything. “Make a right and head out of town.”
Cass held tightly to the image of the tricycle, its front wheel spinning, whir, whir, whir, squeak. A tarp lay crumpled on the porch beside it where a stack of paintings had once stood. Stephanie, surrounded by gray. Not concrete. Driftwood. Old, weathered, scarred.
She sat up straighter, gripping the agate tightly in her hand. Its warmth spread up her arm, burned through her chest. “Make the next left.”
Chief Rawlins followed her directions, this time without signaling.
The sound grew louder, grating on her nerves until she was ready to scream, as they turned onto West Main Street. “Slow down.”
Rawlins let off the accelerator but didn’t hit the brake, allowing the car to coast past the small antique shop where Ellie worked. A shadow shifted behind the front curtain.
Cass held her breath and waited until Auntie V’s Closet was no longer in sight. Someone was there. She was sure of it, could feel their presence. But even if she was wrong, she had to check, and there wasn’t much time if whoever was in there got spooked by them passing.
“Do you want me to keep going or turn around?”
Not many cars would head through this area at night. One maybe, but not another heading the opposite direction a moment later. “No. Stop the car.”
She checked the rearview mirror then hit the brakes and pulled over. “What is it?”
“That’s the shop where Ellie Callahan works. There’s something. I think someone’s inside there.”
Rawlins lifted a microphone from the dashboard.
Cass blocked out whatever she was saying and directed every ounce of her concentration to the building they’d just passed. Terror enveloped her again. Only this time, with her emotions crammed into a neat little box at the back of her mind, she recognized the sensation for what it was. Someone else’s fear. “Stephanie.”
Cass flung the door open, jumped out, and rounded the back of the car.
An instant later, Chief Rawlins stood in front of her, blocking her path. “I’ve already called for backup.”
Cass’s heart pounded painfully, racing so hard she thought it might burst. She rubbed her chest, trying to ease the sensation. The pain gripped tighter, squeezing. She shook her head, dispelling the vision. If she didn’t cut the connection to whomever or whatever was so frightened, she’d never get to Stephanie in time to help her. “There’s no time to wait.”
Chief Rawlins barely hesitated for an instant before turning and heading toward the shop. “How sure are you?”
“We can’t wait. We’re out of time.” Cass jogged toward the shop.
Bee huffed beside her.
Rawlins spoke quietly to someone else as she kept pace with Cass. When the shop came into view, she held out a hand to stop Cass, then gestured toward a small patch of trees on the corner of the lot. “Wait here.”
Fully expecting her order to be obeyed, Rawlins crept forward toward the shop, gun in hand.
Bee gripped Cass’s shoulder, and she barely bit back a scream. “Is she in there?”
Was she? Cass could be totally off base, and then she’d be pulling officers who could be searching elsewhere to follow up on what might be nothing. This time the pain gripping her heart was her own fear. She kept her voice low. “I don’t know, but I think so.”
Rawlins had reached the shop’s side window. She grabbed an empty crate and turned it upside down, then climbed up and peeked in. If her stiffening posture was any indication, Cass’s hunch had been right. The chief backed away from the shop and spoke into the microphone on her shoulder.
A chorus of insects filled the night, their songs blocking any whisper of sound Cass might have overheard from Chief Rawlins or anyone inside the shop.
“Help her.”
There was no mistaking the sound of Tanya’s voice inside her head. “I’m trying.”
“Help her, help her.”
The fear gripped Cass again, and she realized it wasn’t Stephanie’s fear she was feeling but Tanya’s.
Cass crouched beside a large tree trunk, her sense of urgency increasing while they waited. No sound of sirens pierced the night. Either they were too far away or Chief Rawlins had instructed them to come silently. Either way, they were almost out of time. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Helpherhelpherhelpher . . .”
Cass stood. She only hesitated for an instant before the urgency beating at her prodded her forward. Ignoring the chief’s gestures for her to stop, Cass crept closer to the shop.
Bee followed but hung back just a bit, much as he had when they’d moved through the woods by Emmett’s garage, probably giving her room to decide what to do.
She ducked into the shadows beside the front porch.
An instant later, both Bee and Chief Rawlins were at her side.
“We can’t wait,” Cass whispered.
The sound of tires humming against pavement halted any response from the chief.
A car pulled into the small dirt lot and stopped. Ellie climbed out and looked around.
From her position beside the porch, Cass couldn’t see if anyone looked out the window, but she couldn’t let Ellie go in there, couldn’t give Morris two hostages. But was Ellie actually a victim? Why would she be there at this time of the morning?
Before Cass could move, Rawlins reached Ellie. She whispered frantically in her ear, then led her to the side of the porch.
Ellie sobbed softly, shaking so badly she looked like she might fall apart.
“What are you doing here, Ellie?” Cass whispered.
“It’s Jay. He called and told me to come. He’s waiting for me, and then he and Mr. Morris are going to disappear.” Her breathing hitched. “And so is Stephanie.”
“Helpherhelpher . . .”
Cass stood. As much as she wanted to know what was going on, needed to know, they were out of time.
The shop’s front door whipped open, and Jay Callahan strode onto the porch. “Ellie? Is that you? You get in here right now.”
Rawlins tensed.
Before she could move, Cass moved out of the shadows and into the small pool of light cast by the shop’s porchlight. “It’s not Ellie, Jay. It’s me, Cass Donovan.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
“You? What are you doing here?”
Hopefully, since he stood on the lighted porch, and Ellie’s car was parked in the dark lot, he couldn’t tell it was hers. Maybe he’d think it was Cass who’d pulled up. She held her hands up where he could see them. All she needed to do was buy a couple of minutes. Surely Luke and Tank were almost in place by now, creeping closer with more stealth and self-control than Cass had mastered.
“How did you find me? Ellie called you, didn’t she?”
“No, Jay.”
“Then how did you find me?” He kicked the tricycle Ellie had turned into a planter, the one whose wheel squeaked with every fourth revolution, and sent it flying off its stand. “It was you, wasn’t it? Who told the police about the yacht? Don’t deny it. I saw you standing on the beach, staring out at me. But how did you know?”
“Why don’t we talk, Jay, and I’ll see what else I can tell you?”
Another man yelled from inside the shop, “Kill her and be done with it, Callahan. We have to get out of here.”
“No.”
“What did you just say to me?” Calvin Morris poked his head into the doorway.
Jay used the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat running in rivers down his face. “Get in here, Cass, now.”
No way was she going inside. She couldn’t, had to keep them outside talking until Chief Rawlins could get to them or Luke and Tank showed up.
“I said kill her. And then the other one. Or my next bullet will go in you.”
&
nbsp; “Just wait a second, will ya, Morris? This one can help us. She sees things. Knows things she shouldn’t know. She might be able to tell us how to get out of this and off the island.”
Calvin Morris stood in the doorway behind Jay, a convenient shield if a sniper waited in the woods for a chance to take a shot. He twirled the pinky ring around and around. “Fine. Get her in here. Now.”
Jay lifted a handgun and aimed it at Cass.
Cass fought fiercely against the urge to look around for help. They had to think she’d come alone. She climbed the steps to the front porch.
Stephanie lay on the gray hardwood floor, her hair splayed around her.
“Stephanie!” Cass ran to her. She crouched beside her and pulled her hair away from her face. She pressed one wildly shaking hand against her neck, and a strong pulse fluttered beneath her fingers. Relief flooded her.
“Stephanie, wake up.” Cass turned her over and examined her.
A trickle of blood ran from a cut on her forehead. Not bad enough to have knocked her out, so why was she unconscious? Drugged?
“All right, enough of that.” Morris grabbed Cass’s arm and hauled her to her feet, then shoved her into a chair. “Start talking. How do we get out of here?”
Jay stood behind him, studying her. “How did you find us?”
May as well be honest, since the only reason she was probably still alive right now hinged on them believing she had psychic abilities. She gestured toward the porch. “The tricycle. When I was here to get chairs for the shop, Ellie was filling the basket with soil to plant flowers. One of you must have knocked into it on your way in and made the wheel spin. When I was trying to find Stephanie, I heard the sound over and over again, the wheel turning, turning, turning, and then squeaking, and I recognized it.”
Jay ran a hand over his mouth then propped it on his hip, the gun still hanging from his other hand.
“It doesn’t matter how she found us.” Calvin Morris narrowed his eyes at her. “Just tell us how to get out of here without getting caught.”
Jay turned on him. “If you’d have listened to me in the first place—”
Calvin backhanded Jay across the mouth. “Enough out of you. You were the one who insisted we come to Bay Island. You were the one who said this time of year you’d be able to score big and get out quick.”