by Mayer, Dale
The picture clicked into her mind, drawing her attention back to the missing air pipe from the victim to the surface of the ground. She'd been so sure the picture had depicted this location, yet she'd found someone else. God. Another victim.
She reached for her phone. Damn, she'd left it in its holder in her Jeep. Stupid.
Grant came up behind her. "Not exactly the end we'd hoped for."
She flushed at the reminder and stood swaying in place, so tired and confused that nothing made sense. A firm hand grabbed her and tugged her forward. Before she realized it, she was tucked close to Grant's chest. She accepted the gesture as tears threatened to fall. Not Julie. A stranger. Some poor soul buried out here all alone. Her lip trembled then firmed. "No," she whispered. "Not exactly."
"Kali, you're beyond exhausted." Giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze, he added in a voice that made her want to weep with its tenderness, "It's over. Let's get you home."
It would never be over. "It’s not over. Julie is still missing." Kali opened her eyes and stared at him. "Who is he?" she asked, grief warring with the pain in her voice.
"We don't know yet." Turning her slightly, he pulled up her vest zipper before stepping back, putting a slight distance between them.
"I'd hoped-" She swallowed, her throat dry and rough. "I really hoped to find someone alive."
"We all did." Nudging her gently in the right direction, he led her forward. "Let's get you home and into bed."
Kali didn't fight him. "I doubt I'll be able to sleep." A choked laugh escaped. "We can’t forget about Julie. We have to find her."
"And we will. I’ll have a team continue to track her down. Don't worry about it now. We'll handle it. You need rest."
She did need sleep. Having burned through the adrenaline rush, she had nothing left. Maybe come morning everything would make sense. "The caller was right." The words blurted out on their own. The emotion threatened to overwhelm her. She stumbled, righted herself and then stumbled again, her feet blocky and ungainly. "We were too late."
"I know. Take it easy. We're almost there." Grant's voice echoed from the shadows.
Kali kept moving forward. Her eyes focused on the shifting beam of light as it moved over the uneven ground. They passed several team members carrying gear one way or another. Grant spoke to them. Kali kept moving forward. She wanted to go home.
After another ten minutes Kali recognized the small shack and the outline of her Jeep.
Thank God.
Shiloh, quiet for the whole trip, barked once as they approached the parking lot. "Yes, Shiloh. Time to go home." Kali opened the back door of the Jeep for Shiloh before collapsing into the driver's seat. She leaned her head on the perforated steering wheel cover. And caught sight of her phone. She checked for messages.
Julie's voice, faint and reedy sounding came out clear. "Kali, what's going on? Call me back."
Relief overwhelmed her. "Kali." Stan's voice signaled the next message. "Kali, I found Julie. She's fine. She went to the hospital last night for a bad nosebleed. She's home now. I hope you get this." The next message was an exact repeat.
Grant crouched and leaned in on her driver's door. "So now we have the answer to the Julie mystery. And yes, we’ll have someone go talk to her. Warn her, just in case, okay?" At her tired smile, he added, "Kali, let me get someone to drive you home."
"I'm fine, just tired." She shook her head. "And I'd rather be alone right now."
Grant stood, understanding in his expression. "Call me when you get home." He started to turn away but stopped. "Remember, I set up surveillance on your house, so don't worry and sleep well."
Kali lifted an eyebrow. How easily she gave up her prized privacy. Her mind was numb, on overdrive, and yet nothing fit together in there. Too exhausted to sort this out, she stopped trying.
All she could focus on was that it wasn’t Julie. Julie wasn’t in danger. She’d never been in danger. Or was she? What about her painting? She’d painted that before they’d found the victim in Sacramento - if it even depicted that victim. She was good at what she did - and that was find people. As a psychic, she sucked. Big time. Her earlier sketch and even her painting were nothing but twisted meanderings of an exhausted mind.
Confusion, fatigue and she’d admit a little shock linked and twisted everything together. She needed rest. Then she’d sort this out after a few hours to let her body sleep.
Putting the Jeep into reverse, she backed out of her parking spot, stopping when Grant walked toward her again.
"You two did really well tonight - don't forget that."
She whispered to the dark empty interior, "So why do I feel like such a failure?"
***
"Damn it." As soon as Kali drove onto the highway, Grant regretted not driving her home. She might want to be alone, but she probably shouldn't be. He was needed here. Yet he couldn't shake the bad feeling in his gut. He wasn’t psychic but he’d learned to trust his intuition. He called to one of the junior team members returning with equipment.
"Grab a car and see that Kali gets to her house safe and sound." He pointed to the taillights disappearing down the road. Grant watched the second car peel out after her. With a marginally better frame of mind, he returned to the crime scene. Clouds whispered across the moon, giving the night a surreal look.
It went along with the surreal events of the night.
Thomas approached. "I don't know, Grant. You sure collect weird friends."
Grant laughed, a sound at odds with the scene open around them. Still, he appreciated the easing of the macabre tension. "That I do. Have you ever seen anything like this?"
Thomas, his demeanor grimmer than usual, said. "Never. To imagine one person carrying this guy all this way is pretty unbelievable. He is small and wiry, but still...unless he was forced to walk in at gunpoint."
"I mentioned that to Kali. She said the training is not only extensive, but also intensive, with some people becoming fanatical about their fitness levels. She said this wasn't out of line with some of the stronger people."
"Then those are the ones we should be focusing on." Thomas glanced over at him. "Did she really draw a picture of this scene?" He waved his arm to the controlled chaos going on around them. "Cause that's beyond bizarre."
"I know. I need her to connect with Stefan. He could help her a lot."
"I have to ask." Thomas hesitated. "I know you don't believe it, and that people are working in the background to verify it, but are you absolutely sure she isn't involved? It wouldn't take much for an artist to draw this image if she'd participated in the events."
Grant knew Thomas well. They'd worked together for over a decade and often spent time off together. He'd been Thomas's best man three years ago. In fact, Thomas had attended the same seminar where Grant had first laid eyes on Kali. They'd spoken about it several times.
"I'm asking you as both a friend and as an FBI agent, do you believe Kali is innocent of any wrongdoing here?"
"Yes." Simple, clear and the truth. "She had nothing to do with this. In fact, I'd wager my career on it.”
"You realize that's exactly what you're doing?"
Grant stared calmly back at his friend. "I am and that's fine. She didn't do this. I know it, and the truth will prove it."
Some of the rigidity slipped off Thomas's shoulders. He slapped Grant on the shoulder. "Good enough. So who the hell did?"
***
Kali wished she could have slept longer. Sandpaper hid under her eyelids, and her muscles ached after her midnight run. Shiloh joined her, limping, her joints moving stiffly as she walked into the kitchen. Last night had been hard on both of them. They needed a week of physical and mental healing time.
In the kitchen she turned on her computer and checked her answering machine as she waited. Pressing the play button, she listened to the messages. One from Stan, updating her on Brad's disappearance - no word on his whereabouts. The next was from Brenda, who wanted to do lunch now that she was back from
Sacramento. The last two were business calls.
Kali wasn't up to returning any of them. She forced herself to the beach for a short run to loosen up her legs, aware of the security Grant had provided around her house and her cell phone tucked in her pocket, just in case. She'd just made it back to the bottom of the steps at the rocky edge when the phone rang.
"Kali, it's Jarl. You called yesterday?"
His thick European accent came through loud and clear. Still gasping for breath, it took a moment before she could speak normally. She started to walk in a circle to cool down. "Hi, Jarl. Glad to hear you're home safe and sound."
It took her a moment to remember why she'd called him. All thoughts of Brad had been forced from her mind after the crazy midnight hunt.
"Except I'm not home yet. Should be there tomorrow. God looks after those that do his work."
Kali frowned. Though she didn't share his beliefs, she was happy to leave him to them. "Did you see Brad over in Sacramento this last week?"
"Sure I did," he said comfortably. "Why? What's the problem?"
"He's gone AWOL again. I was hoping you might have seen him after I left."
"That I did. Saw him a couple of times, in fact. That Sergeant of his is hell on wheels with cadavers, isn't he?"
"Isn't that the truth?" Shiloh was better at finding live victims, Sergeant had made a name for himself in recovery operations locating the dead.
"Time is still messed up for me. All this travelling and weird hours. If you're wondering when I last saw him, it was right after you went home. I passed him outside drinking with some of the locals." Jarl's disapproval laced his tone.
"He does struggle with his demons. It's the work we do."
"Aye, a man's got to do what he's got to do."
"Okay, well, I thought I'd check." Kali had hoped for better news.
"Let me know if I can help you with anything else."
Jarl rang off, and Kali climbed the steep set of stairs cut into the cliff. Showered and refreshed half an hour later, she poured a glass of orange juice, then sat down at her computer to check her emails. Forty-two. Several were spam telling her how to enlarge her penis. She snorted. As if. Even with her filter on, she received several a day. There were a couple of work related emails, one from The Picasso Gallery owner who carried a few of her prettier paintings. Good news. They'd sold the last painting and wondered if she'd be interested in placing more with them. A good idea, if and when life returned to normal and she could actually think in terms of pretty again.
She clicked on the last email. No sender listed. She frowned. "The game is up. If you don't tell, I will."
Kali could feel the tension build inside of her. "What the hell?" she whispered. As she scrolled down, her shoulders slumped and tears came to her eyes when the picture came into view.
The picture showed a dead or dying man, an oxygen mask on his face.
It looked like the man they'd found last night.
Kali reached for her cell phone and called Grant.
"Finally woke up, did you?"
"I have an email from the killer."
Grant's voice snapped to business mode. "I'm on my way."
Kali signed off and returned to the kitchen. She put on coffee and turned her attention to food. Anything to stay busy and keep her mind off that email. Besides, Shiloh had missed enough meals. Searching the fridge, she realized it had to be a skinny omelet and toast again for her. Shiloh dug into her breakfast with gusto. Kali ate hers more slowly, her mind now locked onto her weird sketches.
If they'd come at any other time, she'd have assumed they were an outpouring of ugly memories. Yet they'd proven vital in sending her, for all the wrong reasons, straight to the wrong victim - but a victim nonetheless.
Kali stared at the Julie sketch, as she'd come to think of it, even though it had led to a man and not Julie. It looked the same as it had five minutes ago - if anything, a bit freakier. She'd used it as a map straight to a dead body last night. That would freak anyone out.
She needed to take another look at her painting.
Kali opened the door to her studio, grimacing at the mess. Tubes and brushes were now sitting amongst her paints, fingerprint dust covered most surfaces and her stack of canvases had fallen askew.
Snatching up a cloth from a cupboard under the counters, she quickly put things back to rights. While she worked she puzzled over the timeframe. It really bothered her.
Turning her attention to the canvas, she flipped back the cover, struck anew by the power streaming off the painting.
Then it hit her.
She'd done this painting before she'd travelled to the apartment disaster in Sacramento. If, and it was a big if, she'd done the same thing again, it meant that her doodle of Julie, should have happened before Julie was snatched. Then, theoretically, Julie should not have been kidnapped...yet.
Which meant she was in danger even now. Thank God, Grant had left someone at her house last night.
It was a hell of an assumption to think this sketch had anything to do with her oil painting. Or that either picture depicted real-life murders, which brought her full circle to one indisputable fact. The last sketch had led them to a victim.
Hearing the crunch of tires, she raced to the front door. Grant walked toward her as a second vehicle pulled in behind him.
She sighed. How was it that he could appear handsome despite being exhausted? She sighed. "You don't look like you got much rest."
"Thanks for reminding me," he growled. "Where's the coffee?"
"In the kitchen," she answered tartly. "Go get a cup."
Leaving Grant to direct his men as needed, Kali walked straight out to the porch with her cup, biting her lips to keep from blurting out her fear about Julie. She’d give him time before she dumped that on his shoulders. "The email is up." From the porch, she heard a second vehicle arriving. More of his team, she supposed.
Turning, she found Grant standing in the doorway. "Did you get the name or email of the sender?"
Grant shook his head. "I can't, our specialist," he nodded toward to the man she could barely see behind him, "should be able to."
"Does he have to take it away? I need my laptop."
It was Grant's turn to shrug. "Probably." Frustration colored his voice.
"Did you learn anything about last night's victim?" She hadn't wanted to think about him, and therefore hadn't been able to put him out of her mind.
"Yes and no. His ID said David Stewart. A fifty-year old trucker. We're waiting on confirmation but there's no reason to doubt it at this point."
Kali stared at him. "A trucker. How did this guy get to him?"
Grant looked up into the sky and then dropped his gaze to her. "We don't know. Or what the connection is to the killer or to the other victims.
Bitterness rose up. "We don't know very much at all, do we?"
"That man could have been left there for a long time." Grant reached out and squeezed her shoulder gently, before dropping his arm. "You brought him home. For that, we are all grateful."
Tears rose, surprising her. How could such a simple touch comfort her? Disturbed, she blinked the tears away, rubbing the back of her neck, feeling a stiffness she hadn't noticed earlier. "He'd have been found soon anyway, since we do regular training there."
"The killer probably counted on that."
"Only it happened sooner rather than later through dumb luck." Kali looked over at him. "We focused on that stupid picture."
"Regardless, we did hit the right destination."
"But not in time." The bitterness returned.
"Chances are David wouldn't have survived anyway."
Kali stared at him in shock. "What? I thought we'd just missed saving his life."
"That's what we all thought. His head injury was severe and the oxygen mask hadn't sealed around his face. The coroner should be..." Grant looked at his watch. "doing the autopsy right now."
Kali's cell phone rang. Turning away slightly, she
clicked it open. "Hello."
"Hi, Kali. Did you get my message?"
"I did, Stan," she answered. "Sorry for not getting back to you sooner."
She could hear the happiness in his voice. "No problem. I'm calling about Julie. We upset her last night. Can we give her a better explanation now?"
"Ask Grant. Here."
Grant raised an eyebrow and accepted the phone. "Hi, Stan."
Kali shut off the rest of the conversation and headed to the far end of the deck where she could catch a glimpse of the ocean through the treetops.