by Dale Mayer
Kali shook her head. "I didn't draw that."
"Didn't you?" he asked, leaning closer to study her face. "It's the only picture in the book."
She glowered at it. "I suppose I must have - but I didn't realize it at the time. Not sure I believe it now, either," she muttered. Her pencil had moved at a furious pace. She'd let everything pour, not caring if it made sense or not, like her painting sessions - hoping to lose herself in another world when her physical one had became too much.
And just like the painting sessions, something very unexpected had popped out. Reaching for the drawing, she studied the details intently. She bolted upright.
"Oh no." Her shocked voice faded to silence. Her fingers clenched around the pages.
"What?"
"I know this woman." She tapped the picture with her finger, unable to tear her eyes from the sketch. Then she stopped and frowned. "I think I know who it is?"
"You do? Who is she?" Grant leaned forward and peered closer to the sketch. "How can you identify her from that little bit?"
"Her name is Julie." Kali choked back the emotion threatening to overtake her. "I’m not sure, though. Her hair looks like Julie’s, the line of her nose, the body shape." She studied the sparse details. Doubt crept in. "It's hard to see when she's bundled up like that. It could be Nancy." Tears sprang to her eyes. She swiped them away. "Julie comes to the center a lot. She likes to help out because she’s a survivor herself. She was in Thailand when the tsunami hit in 2004." Kali looked over at Grant. "She's a very sweet lady. About 35 and single - at least I think she is."
"Do you know where she lives?"
"Close to the center. That's all I know. Stan will have her contact info."
Grant pulled out his cell phone. Kali reached across to grab his arm. "What are you doing?"
"Going to call Stan and ask."
Her fingers clenched on his forearm. "Because of this?" She lifted the book. Her painting prodded at her. She’d never drawn or painted anything like these pictures before. She wasn’t about to count on them being right, though. Far from it. And there was no way she’d have bet this picture depicted Julie. It could represent any smaller framed woman or teen.
He paused, his gaze going from the book to her. He shrugged. "Yeah."
Shit. "Uh. This is just a sketch. Something I drew while I was upset." She shook her head. "It's not a photograph. It's just a combination of random drawings. It probably means nothing."
Closing his phone, he took a deep breath and faced her. "Where did that image come from, Kali?"
She stroked a finger along the edge of the book. Her gaze locked on the image rendered with horrible clarity. "My mind?"
"Kali, is there is something you want to tell me? You know you can, right? I'm not going to judge you."
Uh-oh. Here it comes. She shifted uncomfortably. He could say what he wanted, but that didn't mean she believed him.
"I've worked with Stefan a long time."
She wrinkled her nose. Stefan the psychic. Maybe Grant would comprehend. Still...
"Kali, surely you recognize what's going on."
She swallowed hard. She didn't know how it had happened, but for the first time she had to talk about something she'd kept hidden from everyone. He stared at her so patiently, his gaze seemed so understanding.
Did she dare?
How could she not? "I've never spoken of this to anyone."
He reached for her hand, cradling it in his large capable ones. His thumb stroked the side of her fingers gently.
"You're psychic?"
There. He'd asked her a direct question. She sighed heavily. "Honestly? I don't know what I am. My grandmother called it The Sight. She had it, too. I see things. Know things."
"Paint things?"
She half-laughed. "Apparently. And sketch them, too."
"Can you explain what happens to you? How you perceive the information?"
She shrugged. "Not really. It's been changing so much I don't have a handle on it. When I think I understand how it works...it changes. Sometimes, I just know things. Sometimes, I see ribbons of energy that point me one way." She frowned. "That painting in my studio is a first. I woke up in the morning with paint on my hands and a faint memory of my actions." She stared into his deep eyes, more than a little unnerved at what had happened. "I went into my studio and there it was."
His eyes widened. "Wow."
She gave him a lopsided grin. "Yeah."
"Is it the same way with your sketches? You just close your eyes and draw?"
"I don't know. Now that you mention it, that does seem to be my process. I close my eyes, as if I'm asleep." She thought about it. "All I can say is this is all new to me. Six months ago, I was working a different disaster. We lost a lot of people, including a little girl that Shiloh and I found. The loss really affected me. After that, all this stuff," she tugged one hand free to wave at the sketchbook, "went wild. Before then I had some inkling of where to search for victims on a site, just an instinct that told me where to go. I could find my friends' lost jewelry, keys, pets when I was growing up. It was always minor stuff. Now..." She shook her head, unable to finish the thought.
Silence hung between them.
"Then maybe we should give it a free reign and see what comes." He straightened, still holding her right hand. Waves of energy slid off him and toward her.
"Huh?" she eyed him and the energy curiously. The more time they spent together, the easier their energy blended, almost joining into a single color. Odd. Comforting. Intriguing.
But he'd gone from being a friend to being an agent in that nanosecond it had taken her to understand. And that switch, no matter how intriguing their energy match, was disconcerting. Now he was making calls...again. He dropped her hand and stood up while he talked on his phone. Then he strode inside to his team.
Kali stared at the sketch. Just when she'd figured he'd forgotten about her and the stupid picture, he returned, all business again.
"Kali, Stan's headed to the center to find Julie's contact information. Apparently she moved recently. We're going to meet him there."
Kali jumped to her feet. It didn't matter that it was past one o'clock in the morning. Shiloh watched her, waiting for the signal to say she'd be coming along. She'd be needed if Kali had to search, but that would mean figuring out where to start looking. It would, however, be nice to have her with them. She packed up the sketchbook and pencil to bring along, just in case.
"It’s not likely to be Julie, you know." She muttered glancing sideways at him. "Just saying."
"Maybe it isn't. Let's find her and we'll know."
"The doodle might mean nothing," she stressed. "I’m not Stefan. I don’t do this stuff. "
"And it might mean everything." Grant's lips curved in a grim smile. "I’m willing to take a chance. We'll take my car."
***
Kali followed Grant, letting Shiloh into the back seat. Moonlight danced between the clouds. A chill had settled in. They pulled into the center a few minutes later. Stan's car was already there. Kali pulled out her keys and opened the front door. "Stan?"
"I'm in my office," he called back.
Shiloh raced toward him.
They walked in to find him frantically searching through drawers and stacks of papers; his sparse hair sticking out at all angles as usual. "I can't find it, Kali."
"Find what?"
Stan lifted another stack of papers before dropping them again. Frustration marred his face. He tugged at his shirt collar.
Was he still wearing pajamas?
"The volunteer list. The one with all the names and contact information on it."
Kali frowned. "The last time I saw it, you were carrying it and updating the information as you saw people. That was before Sacramento."
"Right. Several people had moved recently, Julie being one of them. Damn. Where did I put it?"
Kali stared at him, a growing pit of darkness in her gut. The list was important, and she had a good
idea why it was missing. Then a new idea struck her. Horrible, but a possible explanation as to why Julie might have been targeted. "Stan, are there just names and phone numbers on the list? Or does it have more personal information
He looked up at her, puzzled. The usually vague expression sharpened. "It has names and contact information. So addresses, phone numbers, emails, and some information concerning their volunteer status and what areas they worked in. Also information on their readiness to leave at a moment's notice. So if they had kids, did they have a caregiver lined up? Or did they live alone, did they work for a living, were they retired and could they come to help out at odd hours. You know we come in and out all of here all the time. Some people are good with that. Others only want to help out on weekends." He shrugged. "We need more volunteers. We've had major changes here, so I was trying to see who was available to do what when. Like always."
Oh God, if the killer had somehow gotten that list, he'd have information on Julie that he might not have gotten anywhere else. "Did Julie ever talk about her time in Thailand?"
"Often. You know it helps victims to share their experiences. Even though it's been years for her, it still helps to have someone who understands."
Kali scrunched up her face and glanced over at Grant. "There wouldn't have been anything on that list to indicate she'd been a survivor from another disaster - would there?"
Grant went still. Kali kept her gaze casual but firmly locked on Stan.
With one hand running through his hair, sending the spiky mess into a new formation, he said slowly, as if thinking it through. "I don't think so...it said that she lived alone, worked at the bank, her hours, work number." He paused, an odd light coming into his eyes, before adding, "and that she would prefer to not be called on Thursday, as she meets with her online support group that night."
Online support group night? Kali shot Grant a quick look, to find him staring at Stan, a hard look in his eyes. She could just imagine how he'd feel about that level of information missing on this many people. "That's fine," she said to Stan, watching as his shoulders sagged slightly, relief washing the dread out of his eyes.
She didn't want to discuss this with him here. "Wait." Stan came to a stop, his eyes widening as if his brain and thoughts just clicked. "You're thinking the list has something to do with the letter writer?"
"I'm afraid it might. It's just one of many possibilities."
Stan nodded. "Then we better find it." He walked to the filing cabinet by the door. He was wearing pajamas and shoes.
Kali lowered her voice as she spoke to Grant. "Julie was a survivor from a disaster. So was the last victim in Sacramento. He'd survived the apartment collapse. Could be a link there? That letter said something about even better, she's back where she's meant to be or something."
"So since they survived a disaster they should be returned to the state where they were found?" Doubt colored his voice. "Both being survivors of a disaster is a link. Whether it's pertinent in this case, I don't know." Frustration glinted from his eyes.
"I don't know that they'd have to be returned to how they were found, but consider that the Sacramento victim was buried under the rubble of the apartment collapse. He was found buried close to the same location. Hell, the oxygen tank could even represent air pockets from the building that collapsed." She frowned. Damn it. They didn't have enough information. They needed more on the second victim. Whoever that was.
"It's also likely to be sheer coincidence that Julie and the first victim are both survivors. The first could just have been a victim of circumstance. In the wrong place, at the wrong time. We know nothing about Julie at this point."
Damn him and his logic. Kali's mind tumbled over the possibilities. Then she noticed how silent the room had become.
Stan stood stock-still, eyes wide, jaw slack as he stared at them. "Oh, God. You think she's been snatched. Where's that list? Damn it to hell. I figured you needed to talk to her. That she knew something, someone…damn me for being an old idiot. Shit." He frantically pulled out files, looking for the right one.
"Don't you have her number in another place? On your cell phone, in the bills, somewhere?" Grant's hands fisted on his hips.
"Stan, you have a master list on the computer, don't you?" Kali strode over to the desk and pushed the power button. It would take a minute or two to load.
He shook his head. "That's the old one. That's what I was trying to update the other day."
Typical Stan. Still, she could understand. Sometimes she had trouble with priorities, too. Any other time the contact list wouldn't have been critical. The log-in screen came up.
"Stan, come log in. This is your computer, not mine."
"What? Oh, yeah." Stan stepped up to the keyboard and pounded out a series of numbers and letters.
Kali waited impatiently as the computer finished booting. Then she navigated to the main directory.
"Here it is." She double clicked on the document, her fingertips pounding out a crescendo on the desktop as it opened. There. "Okay. What's Julie's last name, do you know?"
Stan leaned over her shoulder. "Taylor. There, wait, you just passed it. Go back."
"Okay. Here she is. We have her old address, old phone number of..." She rattled off the number to Grant, who wrote it down. Kali quickly rattled off the cell number, too. Both men snatched up phones and started dialing.
"No answer." Stan said. Grant was talking to someone. They both waited until he was done. "Grant?"
"I have her new phone number and address." Even as he spoke, he was re-dialing. Everyone waited to see if Julie would pick up.
Kali absentmindedly stroked the top of Shiloh's head. She watched Grant's face as he left a message on her answering machine.
"Let's go," she said. Grant headed to the door.
Stan looked at her, confusion wrinkling his face. "Go where?"
"To her home."
"Did she have a vehicle?" Grant asked abruptly.
Kali shrugged. She had no idea.
"Yes, she does." Stan stressed. "But I don't remember what."
"We'll find it. Let's go."
Kali was already through the door and heading back to Grant's car. "Stan, I'll call you if we learn something." She snapped her fingers. Shiloh came running.
Stan trailed behind them. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Kali started to shake her head, then stopped and considered. "Pray?"
Stan shuddered. "Call me when you find her," he cried as they drove away.
***
They arrived at Julie's townhouse within minutes. Kali jumped from the car before Grant had the engine off. Racing to the front door, she pounced on the doorbell. Then rang it again. The brick townhouse remained dark and silent. Where had Grant gone? She searched the surrounding area, spying him walking through the parking lot to stand behind a small red car.
"Is it hers?" she asked.
"I'm having the plates run now."
She watched as he checked the parking space number. It matched the townhouse number. They both walked around the car, as if it would give up the answers they sought. Grant's cell phone rang.
"Right. Okay. Yeah, I'm going in. No. Yes. Fine."
Grant put away his phone, moving to Julie's front door where he knocked first. Then again. Then he called out, "Julie? This is the FBI. Answer the door, please."
Silence. He pulled out a small tool and had the door open within seconds.
Kali watched astonished. "Isn't that illegal?"
"Not if we have just cause. The car is hers." He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
"Julie," Kali called out behind him. "Julie, are you home? This is Kali."
"Julie?" Grant ran up the stairs two at time. Caught up in his energy, Kali raced after him.
There was no sign of Julie.
But she'd been there. The bedclothes lay crumpled, half on and half off the bed. Several days' worth of clothing decorated a rattan swivel chair. Untidy but normal-looking.<
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Grant strode over to the night table and turned on the lamp. A halo of light filled the room. Grim lines wrinkled his forehead as he assessed something on the floor.
"What is it?" Kali whispered.
"Blood."
His words punched her in the gut. "Oh no." Her imagination took flight. Now all she could think about was that Julie was missing and possibly injured, and Kali was trying to find her, with no idea where to look. Shit.