"One last kiss then? For old time's sake?"
She knew she shouldn't, but her heart pulled her toward the man she thought she knew, thought she loved. As her lips met his, she wanted to cry out, 'Why, Zane?'
"I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear.
"Me too. But we need to end this."
32
"Exactly what I was thinking," Zane said, releasing her and taking a step back. "Although I have to admit, I'd hoped it would never come to this. I never expected to run into you here in Ottawa. Hell, I never expected a lot of things."
"Did you really think you could get away with this?"
He shrugged. "I hoped. At least for a bit longer."
"You're too smart for your own good."
"Sorry, love." He turned away.
"You will be, Zane."
Her threat amused him. "Really?"
"Turn around," she said. "Slowly."
When Zane complied, his gaze dropped immediately to the gun in her hand. "What are you doing, Jasmine? Put that down."
"Don't think I won't shoot you."
Zane shook his head in disappointment. "Why'd you have to go and mess things up, love?"
She refused to answer him.
"You really should put that thing away," he warned.
"Why'd you do it, Zane?"
"Don't go and ruin everything with your questions. It doesn't have to be this way."
"Of course it does. You broke the law. You're responsible for two murders, Zane. And Deirdre wouldn't have killed herself if it weren't for you."
"Poor Deirdre. She must have been overwhelmed with guilt."
"And you? Do you feel guilty?"
He smiled at her and it turned her blood cold.
"I did what was necessary," he said. "Now what?"
"You've left me with no choice. I have to bring you in."
"That's not going to happen, love."
The calmness of his voice made her furious.
"Tell me why, Zane. Why did you kill those men? I deserve to know the truth."
He gave her a sad look. "I suppose you do."
"Tell me."
"I met Deirdre when she came to me for counseling. She was a mess. She'd killed her father and was having problems dealing with the guilt. When she started talking about her research, I was intrigued." He shrugged. "I had a score to settle and she gave me a way to do it."
"What score?"
"Didn't your beloved Benjamin Roberts tell you?" he snapped. "My career was trashed when I was booted off my last CFBI case. And all because of a freak."
"What are you talking about?"
"The CFBI brought in some psychic who claimed she had visions about the case. I had written up a solid psychological profile, but this bitch said it was based on a witness's lie."
"Was she right?"
"It was a good guess," he said, visibly exasperated. "But my profile and my reputation couldn't hold up in court after that. She made a fool of me. Once the case was over, I knew that our judicial system was going to be corrupted by people pretending they could see things the rest of us can't."
"Maybe they do have a gift."
He held out his hands. "You're a CFBI agent. Doesn't it piss you off that your case could be undermined by one of these PSI freaks? They've got to be taken out of the system, and short of killing them all, the best way to do that is to have a new law in place that will disallow any PSI testimony in court."
Jasi was stunned. "You murdered innocent men so you could take down the PSI Division? Because you were embarrassed?"
"It was more than that!" he said. "They made me look like an idiot. I lost all credibility. Your beloved agency cut me off. No more cases. No income."
"Then you work somewhere else," she snapped.
Zane's jaw tightened. "No one would hire me after that. The psychic contradicted my report. She's nothing more than a lying freak. These psychics make up crap and people believe them. It's time our government stopped relying on psychic bullshit. They wanted to spend millions on researching psychics and hire them more publicly. But it's time for some real change in Canada."
"And you're going to make this change happen?"
He smiled secretively. "You have no idea how big this is. My methods have already been tested."
"What do you mean?"
"What I've developed is a way to control government, to influence major decisions. Do you know how much other people―other governments―are willing to pay for that?"
"So you're doing this for money," she said in disgust.
He shrugged. "Money is power. And right now I hold the power to control even our basic laws. Take Monty Winkler's gun vote, for instance."
She laughed. "You're trying to say you had something to do with that?"
The smile he gave her sent a shiver up her spine.
"You brainwashed him to vote yes," she said slowly.
"There were others before him too." Zane gave her a smug look. "And others after him."
"And now you want a vote to oust the PSI Division."
"PSI-0512," he said with a content sigh.
"The file you deleted from Winkler's computer."
"It was everything the government was proposing regarding the PSI Division," Zane said, his mouth twisting bitterly. "You should've seen what they intended to do. We would've been inundated with psychic freaks."
Jasi flinched. "They aren't freaks. They have a gift."
"A curse!" he shouted. "What do they really know?"
"They know more than the average person, Zane. PSIs see things that others don't. They don't ask for it. It's just a part of them. And they're all highly trained CFBI agents."
"Trained, my ass," he sneered. "They see things that aren't there and―" He froze, gaping at her in disbelief. "Oh my God, Jasmine."
She held her breath.
"You're one of them, aren't you?" Zane's mouth turned down in disgust and his eyes raged with fury. "That's why you're defending them. That's why you could never fully discuss your cases with me, even though I had regular CFBI clearance." He muttered a curse. "I should've known. You're a freak of nature, Jasmine McLellan. Just like the rest of them."
His words cut her. Deeply.
"I thought you loved me, Zane."
"I do. You'll always be in my heart."
Reaching into her jacket pocket with her left hand, she withdrew a set of handcuffs and tossed them on the floor at Zane's feet. "Put them on."
Zane smiled coldly. "I don't think so." He took a step forward.
"Don't move, Zane!"
But he did.
He lunged for her, grabbed her around the waist and dragged her to the floor. Plucking the gun from her hand, he kissed her again, and in the turmoil of bitter emotions of longing, regret and betrayal, Jasi didn't feel the prick of a needle in her arm until it was too late.
With a cry, she jerked away. "What did you do?"
"I gave you a small dose of Rohypnol."
Fear gripped her by the throat. "You drugged me?"
He held up a hypodermic needle. "Lucky for you, I only gave you half of what's in here. I wasn't expecting you to visit me tonight. This dose was intended for someone much bigger than you."
"You said you loved me, Zane."
He shrugged. "You win some, you lose some."
"So I was just part of your game?"
"Not at first. I was hoping we'd continue our relationship afterward. But I know now you'd never let me walk away." His blue eyes narrowed. "How are you feeling, love?"
"Fine."
But she wasn't. The movement of the boat combined with the drug in her system made her dizzy.
"Don't fight it, love. It'll be over before you know it."
Confident that the Rohypnol would make her unable to fight back, Zane released her.
That was his first mistake.
Jasi jumped to her feet and landed a well-placed kick to his left knee, the one she knew had been injured in college. With a grunt, he collapsed on
the ground. His hand lashed out, catching her foot, but she whirled on him. Her boot struck the side of his head and down he went, the gun landing a foot from his hand.
She'd never reach the gun before he did.
Jasi grabbed the handcuffs and ran for the stairs, praying that Zane wouldn't shoot her in the back.
"There's nowhere to go," he called after her.
On deck, she held tight to the starboard rail and tried not to look down into the swirling river.
Zane was right. There was nowhere to go.
Glancing up at the cockpit, she froze. She recognized the man at the helm.
Chief Justice Victor Cahill.
"Judge Cahill!"
He didn't seem to notice her.
Shit! Think, Jasi!
When Zane's head appeared from the stairwell, Jasi nailed him with the only thing within reach. A metal bucket. The gun skittered from his hand and she grabbed it before it ended up overboard.
With shaking hands and blurred vision, she aimed the gun at Zane's head. "Don't move!"
He laughed.
"Get up!" she shouted. "Now!"
An energizing surge of adrenaline fired her veins, mingling with the Rohypnol. She could feel its effects now, the dizziness, the weakness in her body. She knew she had maybe ten minutes before the drug would immobilize her. She had to get the cuffs on him and call Ben before that happened.
Zane slowly rose to his feet. "Now what?"
She was about to answer when she caught sight of something in the water behind the yacht. A small dingy with an outboard engine. Similar to the one Winkler had been virtually cremated in.
She swallowed hard. "Were you going to put me in that and set it on fire?"
Zane shook his head. "It's for me, for my getaway."
"So you were going to drug me and leave me on the yacht?"
"It's not the drug you should be worried about."
"What do you mean?"
"The yacht is sinking."
A wave of terror washed over her. He planned to drug her and leave her aboard a sinking yacht. She'd fall asleep and drown. No one would find her. She'd become another missing person, a statistic in someone else's report.
"You'd let me drown?" she asked in disbelief.
"Yes. Sorry, Jasmine."
"Cahill too, I suppose."
Zane nodded. "Vic's in his own little Perfect Storm world. Anyway, the captain is supposed to go down with the ship." His eyes drifted to the Beretta. "Are you going to shoot me, love?"
"If you make me." She blinked as his body split in two, and then three.
He gave her a twisted grin. "I don't think you can. You love me." He took a step toward her.
"Stay where you are!"
"You won't shoot me." He moved closer.
She waved the gun at him. "Stay back!"
He laughed and reached for her.
"Zane!"
Crraack!
The bullet caught Zane high in the chest and a blossom of crimson petals spread across the pale blue shirt. But it was his astonished expression that made her heart ache.
"Jasmine?"
He pitched backward and flipped over the rail.
"Zane!" she screamed.
She dropped the gun and clutched the rail.
There!
Zane floundered in the water behind the yacht.
"Hold on!" she yelled, adrenaline flooding her body.
I have to stop this yacht.
She glanced up at Cahill. "Stop the boat!"
The man barely blinked.
Scrambling up the stairs to the cockpit, she grabbed the judge's arm. "You have to stop the yacht. Zane's in the water."
"Zane?" Cahill looked confused. "We're going fishing, dear."
"The boat is sinking! And there's a man overboard."
"Man overboard?"
She slapped him hard across the face. "Stop the boat!"
Dazed, he stared at her, then slumped to the floor.
"Shit!"
She ran panicked fingertips over the control panel and tried to remember what Zane had taught her three years ago. Levers forward to increase engine speed. She pulled the two main levers downward. The vessel slowed immediately. Relieved, she turned the wheel and maneuvered the boat into a turn.
Finally, she could see Zane's head bobbing on the surface. With the boat at a crawl, she navigated the route until she was a few yards away. Then she stabbed at two large red buttons, hoping to God they were the ones that would shut down the twin engines.
They were.
Relieved, she hurried down to the deck. She grabbed a life preserver and tossed it into the river, but she threw it too far to his right.
Zane's head was still above the water. Barely.
A wave of dizziness made Jasi drop to her knees.
"Come on, get up! He needs you."
She thought of jumping in after Zane, but that would be stupid. They'd both drown.
"Swim to the boat!" she yelled.
Zane's gaze caught hers. "I did love you, Jasmine."
A sob caught in the back of her throat. "Just swim, damn it!"
She swiped at her eyes and when she opened them, Zane was gone. Her heart raced as she leaned over the rail.
"Zane!"
A hand broke the surface. His fingers reached out for her. Then his hand sank slowly out of sight.
In a heart beat, Zane Underhill was gone.
Jasi struggled to stay conscious. But her mind wanted to float away on the current.
Fight this, Jasi.
An overwhelming wave of weakness made her knees cave. She dropped to the deck, first on her knees, then on her back. Staring up into the night sky, she watched the twinkling of the stars as paralysis slithered over her body until all that moved were her eyes.
This was it. Her final moments.
She drifted with the river, up, down, up…
How long would it take the boat to sink? Would she feel the chill of the water, or struggle to breathe? Or would death claim her quickly and painlessly.
She hoped for the latter.
"Jasi…"
Had someone called her name? Was it Death?
In her mind she reached out a hand, just as Zane had. But this time someone grabbed her hand and pulled her to safety.
"Jasi, we're here."
33
Friday, July 6, 2012
~ Vancouver General Hospital, Vancouver, BC
"Jasi, open your eyes."
She was too afraid to obey.
Where am I?
She tried to lift her arms, but they refused to budge. Were they strapped down? Why couldn't she move her legs? Or lift her head?
She strained to open her eyes. A light gleamed and she groaned at the invasion. She blinked again and when her surroundings began to take shape, she wished she'd never opened her eyes.
Wolf-like shapes crowded around her, their distorted faces elongating and darkening. They spoke in an unrecognizable language and she wondered for a moment if these were the mythical bodachs from Dean Koontz's Odd Thomas series, the creatures that warned of terrible death.
Am I dead?
She resisted the urge to cry and thought of Brady. He'd miss her terribly. Then Pop's face swam before her. She wanted to hug him.
She smiled. "You're right, Pop. 'The water rose three inches. We were saved!'"
She had no idea what that meant, but it was important.
The creatures terrified her and she wanted to slink away, but her body wouldn't cooperate. She watched them, praying they'd go away. She didn't want to be their feast tonight. When paws poked her, she whimpered, more from fear than any pain.
"Is she waking up?" a voice whispered.
She wanted to say, No, I'm not waking up. I'm dying.
What did she have to live for now? A man she thought she loved was lying at the bottom of the ocean. And it was her fault.
Zane…
She would have let him into her life―if he hadn't betrayed her f
irst. But even his betrayal didn't warrant a gunshot to the chest.
Yes, it did, her conscience argued. He was going to kill you.
Pain pierced her arm. She wondered why. Other than the sedative in her system, Zane hadn't physically hurt her. Even though he had intended to.
The pain subsided and a gaping void pulled her in. Before she was swallowed by it, she had one final thought.
Zane…I'm so sorry.
The void released her, slowly, one cell at a time. In a haze of half-consciousness she felt the pain in her arm intensify. She cried out and was surprised to hear her own voice.
"Can you hear me, Jazz? Wake up."
Ben.
"I think she's trying to say something," a soft voice said.
"I'm trying to tell you to get off my hand," Jasi croaked.
"Jasi!"
The loud voices made her cringe.
She swallowed. Her throat hurt.
"I need some water."
Ben held out a plastic cup with a straw.
She took a sip, then glanced behind Natassia and Ben.
Her vision cleared and a sterile white room came into view. She saw the heart monitor and other equipment.
She smiled. Or tried to. "Why am I here?"
"You were shot," Ben said.
Natassia's face appeared. "Don't you remember?"
Jasi swallowed. "Zane shot me."
"Who?" Natassia said, throwing Ben a worried look.
"Not Zane," he said. "That was months ago."
Natassia moved to the door. "I'll get the doctor."
Jasi would have argued with her to stay if she had more energy, but she felt completely drained. And a bit confused.
"What do you remember?" Ben asked.
"Zane…and Deirdre Dailey," she said, closing her eyes.
It all came racing back.
She'd shot Zane and he'd fallen into the Ottawa River.
Meanwhile, Ben had figured out the last symbol in his vision. The flag falling into the water suddenly made him think of the flags on boats, and that led him back to the yacht owned by Justice Victor Cahill.
Shortly after he'd made the connection, Divine Ops picked up the signal from the tracker surgically embedded in her navel and an RCMP helicopter lowered a crew, including Ben and Natassia, onto the yacht.
When the Rohypnol had kicked in full force, she'd passed out on the deck, fracturing three ribs in the process, and leaving a one-inch gash on her chin. Because of a mild concussion, she'd spent eleven days in the hospital that time.
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