"So what does he think he can accomplish?"
The phone rang. “Hello. Okay, Joe, thanks."
Everyone looked at the detective. “That was Joe. He said that Logan called to let us know that a black rose was delivered to Allison Brody's room this morning."
In full bureau mode, Jake snapped out orders. “We need to get a description of the guy who delivered it and check to see if it came from a florist."
"I'll get someone on it right away, Jake."
"I'm going to the hospital,” Jake said as he slurped the rest of his coffee down.
Peter stood up to follow, and Jake didn't tell him not to bother.
* * * *
"Good morning, Allison."
"Dr. Markovich, you're here early."
"Well, I wanted to check on how your night went. Any problems?"
"No.” I want to go home.
"Things are looking good, but I want to do another CT scan."
"I feel great, doc. Really.” She projected her desire toward the doctor. I want to go home today. I'll be more comfortable at home. I want to go home.
An eerie glaze settled over Dr. Markovich's eyes and he stared into space. “I think you should go home today. You'll be more comfortable at home,” he said.
Allison's mouth dropped open in amazement. Release me this afternoon so I can go straight home.
"I will release you this afternoon and you should go straight home."
A severe pounding began in her head and made Allison break eye contact with Dr. Markovich. He shook his head as if trying to clear it then looked down at the clipboard where he had written instructions to release her that afternoon.
"Doc, are you all right?” Allison asked while she gently rubbed her temples with her fingertips.
"Fine, Allison.” With a puzzled look he left the room, mumbling on the way out. “I'll get your papers worked up."
"That was too weird."
"Not at all."
Allison looked over to see Yanni sprawled in the uncomfortable hospital chair.
"It is only a fraction of what can be done with practice and control."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes.” Yanni plopped her feet on the floor. “I have tried to tell you that you are capable of doing a great many things."
"But that was like—I don't know, it was just weird. One minute I was thinking it and the next he was saying it."
"There is much more to learn."
"I'm going home today.” Memories of last night's nightmare returned. “The killer is planning again. I saw it last night."
"Then we must hurry.” Yanni vanished.
A short time later, Nick walked in. “Hey."
"Hey."
"How you feeling today?” he asked as he kissed her forehead.
"Great. The doctor is letting me go home."
"What?” He frowned. “I thought they were keeping you for a couple of days to do tests and monitor your progress."
She tried her most innocent look. “I know, but Dr. Markovich came by this morning and said I'm doing well and he's letting me go home. He felt I'd be more comfortable there."
Nick gave her that I-don't-buy-that-bullshit look. “Right."
"Can you go to my house and get me some clothes?"
"Sure, I'll be back in a couple of hours."
"Hours?"
"Well, Lucy is coming home today. I want to go by and see her, find out how they did at the tournament."
"Yes, you should see her and make sure she's okay. I'll take a cab home."
"No, I'll be back in time."
"The killer is planning something. I've seen it."
"When? Ali, did you tell Jake?"
"No.” She crossed her arms over her chest with an agitated frown. “I don't run to Jake every time I have a vision."
"Don't.” He stepped back and pointed at her.
"Don't what?” she huffed.
Nick headed for the door. “I'll be back later."
Frowning, Allison picked up her brush and started running it through her hair.
That was how he found her. Frowning and brushing, with a little mumbling in between. She looked adorable.
Jake leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms to watch her. She hung her head forward. The wealth of hair covered her face. She still hadn't seen him. Allison counted each stroke. At fifty, he started counting, too. She screamed and threw her hair back to see who had entered the room.
"Oh, my God, you scared me.” She threw the brush at him.
He jumped. “Hey,” he said as he caught the brush in mid-air.
"How long have you been standing there anyway?"
"Long enough to hear you say a few choice curses. I didn't know finely bred women like you knew that kind of language."
"Please. You've met my brother, right?"
Jake sauntered toward the bed wagging the brush. She grabbed at it, but he pulled it away. “They took your I.V. out?"
"I'm going home today. Nick went to get me some clean clothes."
Startled by this news, Jake set the brush on the side table. “Home? You just woke up yesterday."
"And I'm fine. Dr. Markovich gave me a good bill of health. I'll be more comfortable at home anyway."
"And more vulnerable. Here you are guarded and no one can get in to see you unless they are recognized."
"Under house arrest?"
"If I had my way,” he mumbled.
"Well, it's my way and I'm going home.” She needed to get away from all these people. It grew harder to control the things in her head. The onslaught of voices and feelings almost incapacitated her.
"Like hell.” He ran his hands through his long black hair.
"You look good in a suit. Blue is a good color for you."
He glanced at her and grinned. “Trying the distraction technique? Do you really think that works on a trained FBI agent?"
She smiled. “What did you find out about the black rose?"
"How did you—I thought Logan intercepted it before you got it?"
"He did.” She shifted in the bed and fluffed her pillows so she leaned back comfortably. “I'm psychic."
Jake chuckled. “Yeah. It was a dead end, as I expected, but we had to check."
"Naturally. That is your job."
His demeanor tensed. “Yes, Allison, it's my job. I want you to go home with Nick and stay there. Rest, take up knitting, I don't care what you do, but stay in that house. I'll have officers surrounding the place."
"House arrest again?” The corners of her mouth curved up.
"This isn't a laughing matter, Allison."
"You know him.” The realization struck her hard. “You know him.” She said again. “This is destined, Jake, and whether you choose to embrace it or not, the three of us are on some sort of cycle. The truth is there. In the end, someone dies.” Allison's eyes pleaded. “One of us dies."
Jake turned abruptly and strode out the door, calling over his shoulder. “I mean it, Allison. Go home and stay there. Your part in this is done."
[Back to Table of Contents]
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Peter hadn't gone into the room with him, although Jake knew he wanted to speak with Allison. Peter wouldn't be the only one of his team to be disappointed when the truth came out. He might lose a friend and he had precious few of those these days.
They drove in silence for a short while before Jake said, “Peter, I have an idea."
Peter's full attention focused on Jake. “What kind of idea?"
"Margo is about the same height as Allison and same build, more or less."
"I assume that is relevant in some way to your plan?"
Jake tapped his fingers on the steering wheel while his mind churned the various scenarios he'd been contemplating. “Suppose we do something to bring the killer out. Something that will make him come after her."
Perplexed Peter said, “Why would he come after Margo?"
"Not Margo, Allison."
"We're not using a civilian as bait."
"Of course not.” Jake stated, offended that his friend and colleague would think he would do such a thing. “I thought we'd use Margo. Put a wig on her and some of Allison's clothes."
"If he's linked to her, won't he know it's not really her?"
"Not if we bombard him with distractions."
Peter looked out the window, mulling over Jake's idea. “It might work, I suppose, but, what is going to be tempting enough and distracting enough to bring him out in the open?"
"Me. We need to get back to base and fine tune my plan."
Back at the station, Jake rolled into the conference room, straight to the table and pulled out a map of Gloucester. He flattened it carefully with his hands and set a book on one end and coffee cup on the other.
"Here,” he circled the dark line with his index finger. “You can get to most portions of Gloucester by 128. He could jut off here and come right into downtown to any number of streets. These other areas are too sparse for our guy. He likes to have a good population to choose from.” Again with his finger he drew an imaginary circle around the middle, bottom portion of the map. “This is where he will concentrate his efforts."
"How can you be so sure?” Ginny had wandered over to the table.
Jake looked at her. “Law of averages. He stands a much better chance of finding the woman to fit his criteria in a well populated location."
Lancaster had picked up his coffee cup from the edge of the map and replaced it with an ashtray. “Seems logical."
"But he needs a home base, a place to plan and keep his stuff.” Jake glared at the map again. He surveyed every inch several times. His gut, instinct, or whatever you wanted to call it drove him toward a huge white area off Cherry Street.
"Bill, what is this area here?"
"That's Dogtown Common. It's a large wooded area, several swamps.” He caught Jake's drift and frowned. “Numerous secluded places where someone could get lost for days if he didn't want to be found."
"Murderer quite a while back did just that, hid out for several days before giving himself up.” He stalked over to the coffee maker speaking over his shoulder. “If our friend wanted to move about unseen that would be a good place for it."
Excitement flickered in some of his team members. Jake hoped they were on the right track. “Can we get some of your officers to start a grid by grid search?"
"I'll talk to the Chief.” Lancaster left the room.
"Peter, why don't we widen our search for any kind of abandoned buildings, warehouses, things like that in areas just off 128?"
"You think if we rattle his chain, get too close, you can smoke him out?"
Jake smiled. “It's a plan in progress."
Peter turned around to the others. “Okay everyone let's see if we can shake this guy up."
* * * *
Later that afternoon, Jake hustled into the command post, but when he saw Peter and Ginny together, he stayed by the door out of the way.
"There's got to be a pattern somewhere. I just wish to hell I could figure it out."
"Damn it, Peter. You never change. Maybe you aren't going to figure this one out. Did you ever think of that?” Ginny walked over and looked out the dirty window. “No, of course you didn't. Not the great Peter Carmichael."
"Do you need me in this conversation?"
Peter's dry response drew a glare from Ginny. She spoke heatedly and very low. Peter's shoulders tensed. Jake walked in the room just as Ginny pushed past Peter. He could have sworn he heard her call him an arrogant, obnoxious jackass.
Jake strolled over to where Peter sat staring into a corner. He smiled. “I'm not sure Peter, but I think Ginny just called you something unpleasant."
"Yeah, yeah. I know. It's not the first time."
Jake crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall. “Can I ask why you're sitting in the corner? Did Ginny put you in a time out?"
Peter didn't smile or comment on that remark. “I'm thinking."
Jake nodded his head. “So you're in the corner?"
Exasperated, Peter finally looked at his friend. “I'm thinking, Jake. I think better when I focus on something or some place. I happened to pick this corner, okay?"
Jake raised his eyebrows and smirked. “All right.” Who was he to question the way a fellow agent did things. His practices were none too normal.
He pushed away from the wall and grabbed a chair. “Can I ask what you're thinking about without you biting my head off?"
Peter turned around and put his elbows on the table, resting his head on his hands. His fingers pulled on the ends of his hair in frustration. “This case doesn't feel right, Jake. I can't figure it out."
Jake tensed. “What do you mean it doesn't feel right? I'm the profiler here, not you."
Peter raised his head. “What do you feel?"
Jake stood abruptly and paced like a caged animal. “He's leading me back to the beginning."
"The beginning of what?"
"The beginning of this,” Jake raised his arms, “this game."
Peter rubbed his eyes. “Yes, this game. This sadistic game that is leading us somewhere, but where?"
He had one chance to do this, Jake cursed. If this last plan didn't work, he'd have to tell Peter and the others the truth and turn the case over to them. The body count was growing and he couldn't risk the next victim being Allison. “Let me think about it for a while and come up with some ideas."
"Okay."
Peter went off to talk to Margo about the follow up interviews for males fitting the description of the UNSUB seen with a camera. Their voices trailed off as Jake concentrated more on his problem of how to draw the killer out.
* * * *
Allison had been up until the wee hours working with Yanni. She'd fallen thankfully into her bed at sunrise and given herself over to sleep.
The images exploded in her mind. He'd visited more innocent, young women, stalking their movements.
She didn't panic. Her lessons with Yanni were paying off. She studied his hands, tried to get a good look at the characteristics of the car he drove, and took note of anything else she thought would help narrow down the search of suspects.
Allison felt his satisfaction, a job well done. She watched as he circled another block. He'd picked his next victim and she knew she couldn't let it happen.
She opened her eyes to the familiar surroundings of her bedroom. A headache normally followed the visions, but to her amazement, she woke without the slightest twinge. Pulling on her robe, Allison went downstairs.
"I'll have to act now,” she said as she put the kettle on the stove.
"You are not ready,” Yanni replied.
"I have no more time."
"It will take everything in you to deal with him."
Allison carried her warm tea with her in search of the cordless phone. First, she dialed Paul Kincaid's number.
"Hello, Paul."
"Allison. How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine."
"I came to see you yesterday, but you'd already left the hospital with Nick. I'm glad you called."
"Paul, would you be able to come by my house later this evening?"
"Tonight?
"Tonight, around 9:30?"
"Okay.” He sounded hesitant.
"I'll look forward to seeing you then. Bye."
She hung up before he could reply. She dialed a number she knew by heart. “Detective Lancaster, please."
"Hello."
"Detective, it's Allison Brody."
"You sound pretty rested. I guess the hospital stay did some good."
"Thanks. I wanted to let you know that I had another episode with the killer."
"Episode?"
"Yes. He got into a black luxury car. I'm sorry I didn't get a license number."
"That's okay. I'll let Jake and Carmichael know. Thanks."
"Why are you inviting Kincaid here?” Yanni asked.
"I
have a plan and I'll need him to get the Calvary."
"The what?” Yanni frowned.
Allison sighed. “I'll explain. Come on let's go upstairs and pick out some clothes for me."
She rummaged through the trunk at the foot of her bed. It took some scrounging, but she finally found the beautiful sculpted dagger and sheath. She'd paid a tidy sum to an antiques dealer some years ago to obtain the pieces.
"I thought I'd never find it,” she huffed.
The carved gold handle felt cool to her hand as she gripped it. A wavy blade of tempered steel winked at her in the soft light. It looked very strong and very deadly. The leather sheath had soft velvet inside and a strap laced through it to be worn around her thigh. “Perfect."
"What are you thinking?” Yanni asked while Allison threw open her closet door. “You need not get close enough to use a knife."
"My powers are uncertain. I need a backup plan, and this is it."
"You need more training."
"No,” Allison yelled out of the closet. “I need a lot more time and we have run out of that."
"I am not sure this is the wisest decision."
Allison scoffed. “We know from past experience that I don't always make the best decisions, but this time, I'm doing something.” She walked out into the room. “I need to do this."
"Yes,” Yanni sighed. “I believe you do."
"Now, I need the right outfit to hold his attention.” Her stomach lurched and she leaned against the wall. She stole a precious moment to relive her one night with Jake. Every sensation as if it were new flooded her mind and her body. “I wish we were there right now,” she whispered.
Time grew short and her courage wavered. Before she could change her mind, she scanned her clothes again, finally settling on a long poppy print skirt with lacy overlay. Her blouse had red puffy sleeves and dipped enough in the front to show ample bosom.
She took careful time to apply her make-up, embellishing her features but not too ostentatiously. Her shaking hands made it difficult to apply the eyeliner, so she tried the deep breathing exercises which had always worked before. Tonight they did little to cease the rapid rhythm of her heart. Her breaths seemed more like gulps of air because she couldn't get enough into her lungs.
"Remember to concentrate and stay focused on your goal,” Yanni warned. “Do not lose sight of your objective."
Allison brushed her curly locks until they shined, leaving them to hang loose around her shoulders. Mystery, allure, that's what she needed.
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