"How far along are you?" Brandon asked.
"Almost six months."
"How long have you been married?"
Grace hesitated. "Five months. Jeremiah rescued me from a life of abuse and brought me here about a year ago. He is very good to me, especially since I am the new wife. And my sister wives all treat me with respect. Especially now." She looked down at her belly. "God has blessed me. I am a—"
"Don't say it," Jasi interrupted, holding a hand up. "You're a very fortunate woman."
Grace lifted a brow in surprise. "Yes. How did you know?"
"Just a lucky guess. You were the one who found the body?"
The woman shivered. "It's something I'll never forget. I woke up early and decided to clean out the incinerator—it's my weekly chore—and when I opened the door, I couldn't believe what I saw." She swallowed. "I can't get the image out of my head."
"Did you see anything suspicious last night?" Brandon asked. "Anyone hanging around the incinerator that shouldn't be?"
Grace shook her head.
"Is anyone you know missing from Sanctuary?"
"No, sir. I can't say for sure who is here today and who isn't. Sometimes a group of us go on excursions into the city. Occasionally we stay overnight. And we often have new members who don't stay here long. It can be hard to keep track of the newcomers."
"So you have no idea whose remains are in the incinerator?"
A slight pause. "None."
Brandon eyed her for a long moment. Pressing Grace now would only alienate her, but clearly she had something on her mind. "Thank you. You've been very helpful."
"Have I?" Grace smiled. "I'm glad to help."
He glanced at Jasi. "We're done here."
They left Grace's room with no more than they'd had when they'd gone in. He was disappointed. From the look of things, no one at Sanctuary was going to admit they'd seen or heard anything.
"Okay, on to Christiansen's room," Jasi said.
"I think we'll find the same thing in here. Absolutely nothing."
Giles Christiansen's bedroom suite consisted of three rooms—a separate sitting area with a wall of bookshelves and two large plush armchairs by the fireplace, the bedroom with a regal, king-sized canopy bed framed by rich amber chiffon drapes, and a skylight-lit en suite bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub and an oversized steam shower with showerheads at both ends.
"I'll take the sitting room," he said. "What about you?"
"Bathroom." Jasi proceeded into the en suite.
He wandered over to the bookshelf and skimmed the spines of the hardcover titles that packed each row. He wouldn't have taken Christiansen for a well-educated man, but based on the reading material on his shelves, the guy had an inquisitive mind and weird taste in literature. Amidst thrillers by Christopher Rice, Jonas Saul, and a variety of other names he recognized, he discovered a number of non-fiction works by popular self-help gurus, including Van Harvard's latest, Wealth & Health: It's Your Choice!
When Jasi reentered the room, they searched the bedroom together, peeked in his closet and under the bed.
"Nothing," she said with a sigh.
No sign of Sheral Downham. Nothing unusual or out of place.
Yet something irked Brandon. He just couldn't put his finger on it.
"Incinerator time," Jasi said, interrupting his thoughts.
"I'll be with you every second."
Brandon was still uncomfortable with her gift, and the fact that the scent of smoke could trigger a psychic vision sent alarm bells off daily in his head. When she assured him that this only happened when a fire was set by a killer, he had relaxed. Just a bit.
But it didn't stop him from worrying about her.
5
With trepidation, Jasi made her way toward the incinerator. Encompassed by a tall fence, it stood a few yards away from a metal-sheeted outbuilding, just as she'd seen in the photos. It was much larger than she'd expected, a commercial grade waste disposal unit that could handle the needs of a small community even larger than Sanctuary's.
Kind of overkill?
Her Oxy-Mask was in place, filtering the air around her. She kept her breathing slow and steady.
"Ready?" Brandon asked. He stood a couple of feet away, his handsome face lined with worry. Beside him stood Christiansen, who seemed to have no care in the world.
"Ready." She looked at Christiansen. "How does this thing work?"
"Waste can be shoveled or dropped in through the double doors. After that, it moves through the chamber by reciprocating grates."
"Then what?"
"The resulting ash drops down onto the conveyor belt and is dumped into the storage chamber at the end where it can be scooped out and used as compost for our gardens."
"Is that safe?" Brandon asked. "What about gases from material being burned?"
"This baby is designed to burn off all waste gases, and the subsequent energy produced from the process is converted and stored." He pointed to the outbuilding. "That barn houses our main generator. It stores the energy converted, which is then used to run most of our electrical system. Sanctuary is as green as it gets. Fresh well water, no chemicals added. Green energy. No pesticides on our fields. We grow all our own vegetables and fruits. We have chickens in another barn."
"Sounds like heaven," Jasi said, not even attempting to hide her sarcasm. "Thank you for the sales pitch, but it's time you step back now."
With a polite smile, Christiansen gave a nod and walked over to the two RCMP officers who had been assigned to guard the incinerator until the CFBI arrived.
She peered over her shoulder. "Okay, Brandon, it's shake 'n bake time."
Behind her, she heard Christiansen say, "Why is she wearing that mask? I just explained there are no gases remaining inside."
She didn't wait to hear Brandon's explanation. She took two deep breaths, stepped inside the incinerator and pulled the doors half closed, partly for privacy but also because she didn't want to be left in total darkness.
"Brandon, can you hear me?"
"Yes." His voice came from the earpiece she'd activated.
Seconds later, she emerged from the incinerator. "We have a problem, Brandon."
"What's wrong?"
"Someone's moved the remains."
"What?"
"The bones are gone." Her voice was muffled by the mask.
Brandon scowled at Christiansen. "Where are they?"
Christiansen shrugged. "Apparently there was some kind of miscommunication between the local RCMP detachment and the CFBI. The body was transported to the morgue in Vancouver an hour ago."
Brandon pulled Jasi aside. "You can still get a read in there without the remains, right?"
"I should be able to. Remember, it's the smoke that triggers my gift, not a body. But Natassia will have to go back to the city to read the victim." She clenched her jaw. "Shit. She's not going to be happy about that."
Jasi strode back inside the incinerator, once again half-closing the doors behind her. "I'm taking off the mask, Brandon."
"Be safe."
"Stop worrying. I've done this a hundred times." Actually, it was closer to two hundred, but he didn't need to know that.
"Voice record on," she said, activating a recording feature on her data-com that would capture anything she said while under.
She removed the Oxy-Mask and slowly released her breath. Next, she breathed in a long shot of OxyBlast. Then she exhaled and breathed the incinerator air. It had a faint smoky odor. In…out…in…
The killer's mind collided with hers, a force that sucked her in, causing her to stumble against the steel wall. Suddenly she could see everything through someone else's eyes. In essence, she became the killer.
She was running through the woods. Was she being chased? No. She was pursuing someone. A shadow up ahead darted between the trees. She ran faster, her heart racing as rage filled her heart.
I have to catch her! She's going to ruin everything!
"You can't e
scape!" I screamed. "And when I find you, you will wish to God you had never come here."
Where did she go? I can't see her anywhere. Shit!
I tripped over a tree root and my glove scraped against the trunk as I grappled for support. Righting myself, I scoured the forest. I raised my rifle and peered through the night scope. Ah, there she is.
"There's nowhere to hide!" I yelled.
I chuckled. The bitch has only made things worse. First, her sneaking around. Then her interference. She had to be stopped. And I would make her pay dearly for her transgressions.
I veered off to the left where the ground flattened ahead of me. Perhaps I could cut her off before she reached the road. If I didn't make it in time, then maybe the bitch would be mowed down by a car.
As I pushed myself ahead, I was sure I'd beaten her. I paused and listened.
Nothing.
Where is she?
I heard crackling sounds. Behind me.
Shit! She's heading back to Sanctuary.
Knowing I couldn't let her seek shelter there with the others, I set off once again, following the sounds of a desperate, injured twit who had to stick her nose where it didn't belong.
My throat burned with each breath as I pressed on. Up ahead I heard a sharp crackling of brush, a soft thud and a muffled whimper. I smiled. Had my luck finally changed?
I moved with precision. I'd been here a thousand times before. I leapt over a fallen tree in my path, paused and listened. To my left, I heard another soft cry. She was hiding behind a thick-trunked cedar, about five yards away. I approached as quietly as possible.
I whipped around the tree and came face to face with my prey.
"No," she cried.
She slumped against the tree, quivering in fear, her face veiled by shadows, her hand pressed against her side while blood seeped between her fingers and coated a bracelet on her wrist.
The first shot hadn't killed her, lucky for me.
"Hope is lost," I said. "Nothing can save you now."
"Please…"
"The hunt is over. I win, you lose."
I raised my rifle and aimed it at her. The night exhaled the shot like a sudden, hot breath.
Then all was calm.
Lifting my prize over my shoulder, I glimpsed the lights from Sanctuary between the trees. I knew the perfect place to eliminate the body.
Jasi opened her eyes. It took a few seconds for her surroundings to register. She was inside the incinerator, but in her mind she could still see the forest and the woman. As the remnants of emotions from her vision faded, she slipped the Oxy-Mask back over her head and cleared her throat. "I'm out, Brandon. Did you get everything?"
"Heard you perfectly."
"Give me another minute or two, then I'll be out."
She rested against the wall and released a tired breath. Though she hadn't seen Sheral's face in the vision, she'd recognized the bracelet from the photo.
How am I going to tell Cameron that her friend is dead—murdered?
Brandon poked his head inside. "Everything okay?"
She nodded, not trusting her voice. When he held the door open for her, she climbed out.
Christiansen rushed toward her. "Is something wrong, Agent McLellan?"
"You mean other than someone dying in your incinerator?"
"Perhaps you need to sit down and—"
"What I need, Mr. Christiansen, is the truth."
He flinched at the mention of his name. "Please respect that here at Sanctuary, I am simply Jeremiah. I have been completely honest with you. I do not know who died last night."
"Please escort Jeremiah back to his residence," she said to the officers.
She watched them walk away, her heart full of dread.
"I think it's Sheral Downham," she said to Brandon minutes later.
"Are you positive?"
"I didn't see her face, but the woman in my vision wore an amethyst bracelet."
"Any sense of whether we're dealing with a male or female suspect?"
She shook her head. "It was dark, and I didn't see much in the way of clothing. And he or she wore gloves, so it could be either."
"Think it's time to show Sheral's picture?"
"Not yet. I want as much cooperation as possible from the people here. Right now they think we're only here about the remains in the incinerator. They want this wrapped up as quickly as possible. Besides, we still don't have a suspect, and I don't want anyone else disappearing from Sanctuary."
"Whoever did this may already be gone."
"I know. If that's the case, someone here will know something. We have to be patient." She stared up at him. "I have a feeling this case is going to take longer than the Cobras case."
Above them, the skies darkened.
"Christiansen was right," Brandon said. "It's going to rain. Let's head back to the house."
Her 'com rang.
"Damn. It's Cameron."
"What are you going to tell her?"
Jasi swallowed hard. "The only thing I can. The truth."
6
Ben removed his gloves and adjusted the sound on the recording equipment. He'd spent the last hour cleaning up the feed from Jasi's data-com record for the latest report. They'd already listened to it twice, but something was off. Hell, the entire investigation had turned into a farce.
"I still can't believe someone screwed up and let the coroner leave with our evidence," he muttered. "Matthew says it was a jurisdictional error."
Natassia let out a huff. "Jurisdictional error, my ass. I bet that nut job Christiansen had something to do with it."
Ben caught her gaze. "Why do you say that?"
"Because I don't like him."
"You haven't even met the man."
"I don't need to. There's something very weird about a man who spends all his energy rescuing other people and then living with them."
"So you think he has a God complex."
"Don't you?"
"I don't know. Ask me that in a few days."
Natassia looked at her watch. "My ride should be here soon."
Matthew had made arrangements for a rookie Mission-based agent to pick her up and drive her back to the city morgue.
"You sure you're okay with me leaving you here with no backup, Ben?"
"Things are quiet. I don't anticipate much happening in the next few hours. And I've got Jasi and Brandon. Plus Matthew promised a full support team, if we need one."
"What if there's not enough left of the body for me to make a connection? What if I can't conclusively ID her?"
He scooted the chair closer to her, slipped his gloves back on and took her hands. "It's not always about identifying the victim, Natassia. You could see something important. Something that'll lead us to the bastard who killed her."
"I hope so."
A car horn beeped outside the van.
"Your ride's here," he said.
"Jeez, now you sound like you're trying to get rid of me."
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "The sooner you leave, the sooner you get back. Oh, and can you bring me some Timbits and fill up the coffee thermos?"
She chuckled. "So I'm the coffee bitch now, am I?"
"We'll need to stay awake tonight." When he saw the twinkle in her eye, he added, "We'll be working, so don't go getting any ideas."
"Some days you're just no fun, Benjamin Roberts."
He followed Natassia outside and watched as a CFBI-issued SUV meandered toward them at the pace of longstanding ketchup in a bottle. The vehicle eventually stopped, and a copper-haired young man climbed out.
"You're the driver?" Ben said, taken aback.
"Yes, sir."
Ben shouldn't have expected Matthew to send anyone other than a kid for driver duty, but still.
Freckles danced across the young man's red cheeks. "I'm here for an Agent Prushenko."
Natassia sauntered forward. "That would be me."
Ben would have laughed out loud at the stunned expr
ession on the kid's face if Natassia hadn't whipped around and said, "Not one word." She fastened her gaze back on the young agent. "What's your name?"
"Uh…A-agent Jason Anthony."
"I'll just call you Jay?"
"Uh…well, really my…" The kid's voice trailed off, his face lost in a frown.
"Come on, Jay."
Ben stifled a chuckle when Natassia reached for the driver's door at the same time as her new driver.
"I, um…I…sorry," Agent Anthony stammered.
Natassia cocked her head. "Listen, Jay, no offense but you look like you're still in high school. I'm driving. We'll get there faster. Trust me."
Without a word, Agent Anthony walked around the vehicle and climbed in beside her. Even his freckles had paled. As they sped away from Sanctuary, he gripped the door for support.
Ben had mixed feelings as he watched them leave. He had a feeling that by the time Natassia was through with her escort, the young driver would be smitten. She had a way about her. She exuded sexual chemistry everywhere she went, and underneath that hardened exterior was a woman with a soft heart. He knew her well.
"Ben?" Jasi's voice came through the speaker.
"I'm here."
"We came up empty in the lodge."
"Did you speak to the wives?"
"Yeah, no one knows anything and Father Jeremiah is a God among men." Jasi's sarcasm came across loud and clear.
"You going to use the warrant?"
"Not yet. So far, people are cooperating. Once we pull that warrant, they could close ranks. Even if Sheral Downham wasn't a full-fledged member, these kinds of cults are very protective of their own."
"I agree. Keep pushing the murder investigation angle. Someone has to know something."
"All we need is to gain their trust so they'll talk."
"Seems Christiansen has no problem in that department. We've got enough sound bites on him to put together an audiobook."
"Yeah, he's arrogant and ambitious, to say the least. He loves the power of being the leader here. He tries to hide it beneath all his piousness and self-sacrifice, but the control-freak angle resonates from him loud and clear." Jasi paused. "Wonder what else he's hiding."
Ben adjusted the microphone attached to his earpiece. "I have a feeling we're going to unearth plenty of secrets at Sanctuary. And we may not like what we find."
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