“You’re doing a really good job of doing one on me, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. When you start talking, you can really turn a girl’s head.”
“I like your head just fine. You’re smart and funny and you do some pretty remarkable things with that pretty head of yours. What I’m interested in is a little further south.”
“Oh, really.” She raised her eyebrows, her eyes filled with disappointment.
She thought all he wanted was to cop a feel and tumble her into bed. That wasn’t the case, and it stung to know that’s all she thought he wanted. He had it coming, and he knew it. Now he needed to make her believe she was different. His friends had been trying to tell him for years, but now he got it. He felt it in every part of himself, deep into his soul. She was the one for him.
“Morgan, while I think you’re gorgeous from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, the thing I’m interested in, besides your dirty mind, is your heart.”
The unexpected truth, the sweet smile on his face, and the soft glow in his eyes when he looked at her melted her heart. What woman wouldn’t simply melt when a man asked for her heart? Especially when that man was the right man.
She had no words to give him that would tell him how she felt. She turned in the booth and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the love she had for him. She hoped he felt it.
“Wow!” Blown away, he didn’t know a kiss could feel like this. He held her face in his hands. Her eyes came open and instead of seeing warmth, or even a sparkle, he saw the fog had rolled in again.
“Phonebook.”
“It isn’t exactly what I thought you’d say after a kiss like that. I know I have an effect on women, but never have I made a woman say phonebook.”
“He’s going to kill her.”
And that killed the moment they’d just shared.
Chapter Twenty-Three
* * *
TYLER HELD HER close and practically dragged her out of the restaurant and into his car. Physically, she was there, but mentally she was trying to hold on to the images in her mind. She spoke softly to him and sat staring into space.
“She’s alive. Something about her is keeping him from killing her like the others. She’s sitting in a chair at a round table with a large crystal ball. It’s just a prop. The room looks like so many of the other psychic shops, but the woman looks at the room and shop as ridiculous.
“That’s what’s different about her. She’s got a real gift, and he knows it. He’s keeping her alive for a reason. He wants something from her.”
“Where, Morgan? Where are they?”
“I need a phonebook. That’s how I’ve seen him in the past, crossing out the name or ad. I can’t see the name, but I did see the size of the ad and where it’s located on the page. If you get me a phonebook, maybe I can pick it out.”
Tyler pulled the car over next to a line of shops, leaped out, and headed for the payphone outside a liquor store. He couldn’t believe he’d actually found one of the endangered gadgets. He opened the phonebook holder. Empty. With a frustrated growl, he ran inside the liquor store, identified himself as an FBI agent, and asked the clerk if he had a phonebook. The clerk found one in the cluttered back office.
He slid back into the car, dropped the book in her lap; she immediately flipped through it, and he called Sam.
“Sam, it’s Tyler. I’m with Morgan. She says our guy is holding a woman hostage. No, he hasn’t killed her yet. At least, that’s not what Morgan is seeing. She’s looking in the phonebook, trying to get us a location.”
Morgan found the listings for psychics in the city, and he sped away from the curb and headed in that direction.
“I’m not sure. This isn’t the same phonebook. It’s not laid out like the one the man is using.”
“Just do your best. Do any of the ads look familiar? Is there something about the ad you see that is the same in one of the ads in this book?”
She leaned her head back on the headrest and cleared her mind of the speed of the car, the sounds of the road, Tyler sitting next to her, and everything else. She focused all her energy on the snapshot of the scene in her head. The open phonebook lay on the scarred coffee table. She hated seeing the names and ads already crossed out on the open page. Four murders, so far. She looked to the new, circled ad. He hadn’t crossed it out yet. The ad showed a rose encased in a crystal ball.
She opened her eyes and focused on the listings in front of her. She didn’t see it. She turned the page and scanned the ads. She tapped her finger on the one she needed. Smaller in this book, tucked in between several larger listings.
“Here. We have to go here. It’s on Grant Avenue. Psychic Bloom. She offers spiritual guidance, in addition to the usual palm readings and astrological charts and predictions. There’s a neon palm sign in the window and another neon crystal ball with a rose in the middle, like here in the phonebook.”
“Sam, did you get all that? Yeah, we’re on our way. Call the local guys and have them get down there. She’s not dead yet. Maybe we can get to her before he kills her.”
“Tyler . . .” She couldn’t get the words out. Something stole her breath away and the woman’s words echoed through her mind.
Morgan’s coming for you!
“Morgan? Morgan? Morgan!” Tyler called to her, but he seemed so far away.
She floated through a dark tunnel and in the light at the other end laid the woman. The tunnel closed before her eyes, framing the woman’s face. He was killing her, and as he did, the woman looked back through the tunnel and directly into Morgan’s eyes.
“Morgan! He wants you. He’s coming for you.”
Her lungs burned and she tried to draw air that wouldn’t come.
“Morgan. Baby, come on, breathe. Morgan!” Tyler rubbed his big hand over her chest above her breasts.
The tunnel closed completely as she took a deep shuddering gasp and her eyes flew open.
She grabbed Tyler’s hand and held tight. “He killed her. He killed her,” she sobbed, “and it’s all my fault. He’s coming for me.”
“No, honey. It’s not your fault. He doesn’t know who you are, or where you are. You’re safe.”
“No, I’m not. They aren’t. That’s why he’s going after the psychic shops and the women who run them. He’s looking for me and trying to get them to tell him where I am.”
“Then why is he cutting out their tongues and gluing their eyes shut?”
“He thinks all psychics can see something he doesn’t want anyone to know. He thinks I know something about him.”
She leaned her head against the side window and stared out over the hood and watched the road disappear under the car. She didn’t see the traffic or the people outside. She didn’t realize they’d entered the city, or the fact Tyler ran red lights and exceeded the speed limit.
They stopped in front of several buildings housing shops. Police cars lined the streets and people gathered at the yellow tape the police had strung up between the cars and buildings.
“Morgan, if you went in there, could you see more and maybe tell me more?”
Rousing herself, she considered his request. “It’s possible. I don’t know. This isn’t what I’m used to. Usually, I get glimpses of the cases you’re working on from you, and I have a vision. That’s why the visions were so vague. You know, the green man.”
“Yeah, he turned out to be a guy who worked in the green section of a flour mill and wore a green uniform.”
“Exactly. This time, I can actually see the events more clearly. I have more information because I’m involved. The information isn’t coming from you secondhand. It’s coming from him, because he’s connected to me somehow.”
“What about your website? Could he have contacted you that way?”
“It’s possible. I don’t know. There’ve been lots of requests. I shut the site down after the press conference. I haven’t opened it back up again.”
&n
bsp; “We’ll have to look into the people who’ve contacted you that way. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something. Maybe if you open up the site again, he’ll try to contact you. We can trace him that way. I’ll have to ask the tech guys about it.”
She looked terrible. It reminded him of the night she’d come into the restaurant and faced that drugged-up boy with a gun. Wiped out, her energy drained. He wanted to take her home and put her to bed.
He hated to ask her for help, but didn’t have a choice. She was the best chance they had of catching this guy. “Honey, do you think you can go in there with me? If you can help us find this guy, I’d really like you to try. But I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’ll go in, but I can’t guarantee I’ll see anything. In fact, this could backfire, and you’ll be picking me up off the floor.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
“Anger, hate, passion, and other strong emotions can linger in a space. You’ve seen what can happen. That boy laid me out for almost a full day. This could very well do the same thing, or worse.”
“Worse? How worse?”
“Let’s go inside.”
He grabbed her shoulder and made her turn back to him before she opened the door. “Morgan, how much worse?”
She didn’t want to explain again what it took to do what she did. Like talking rocket science to a kindergartner, they had no concept of how gravity worked and how to make a rocket overcome gravity to reach orbit. How could she explain energy and the give-and-take of her gift to someone who’d never experienced it?
“You know how sometimes you have a really long day, and you’ve used your mind so much that you’re just exhausted. It can be more exhausting than running several miles, or working out for an hour. It can physically and mentally drain you to concentrate and focus for long periods of time. It takes energy from your body and your spirit to give that kind of concentration to something.”
“Okay. I follow you. In order to do what you do, it takes concentrated focus. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes. Now suppose that concentrated focus is like the light going through a magnifying glass. The light gets concentrated to a point that can burn hot enough to start a fire.”
“Okay.” He was starting to understand why she looked like she wilted when she was using her gift. She was the light going through the magnifying glass and her energy was what burned up. Or something like that.
“So, that’s the concentrated focus it takes to do what I do. In the process, that focus burns up my energy, or better yet, that’s the energy I expend in order to focus. Now, add in the energy that I absorb from the other person or event. In this case, imagine I’m an orange and the other person’s energy, or the event’s energy, is a hand holding that orange. Now squeeze. What happens to me, the orange?”
“Shit!”
“Actually, orange juice.”
“Morgan, that’s not funny. Are you saying this could really hurt you?”
“I’m saying there’s a balance to things. When that balance is knocked off-kilter in my world, something’s gotta give.”
“I don’t want that something to be you.” He laid his hand on her thigh and squeezed. He’d have liked to kiss her, and take her home instead, but a lot of people milled around and many of the officers had already recognized him. He didn’t want everyone razzing him over kissing a woman at the scene of a murder he was supposed to be working.
“I have some mental blocks I can use. I can block out a lot of what’s coming at me, so long as it’s nothing intense. Let’s just go in and see what happens.”
“I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He took her hand and brought her palm to his lips. He kissed her hand and her fingers pressed to his face.
She kept her hand to his cheek and said, “You’re stalling.”
“I’m stalling,” he confirmed.
“It’s a nice way to stall me, but we should go now. People have noticed you’re here. Sam’s waiting for us inside. He’s getting antsy.”
“You know that?”
“Yes. I know that.” She stepped out of the car ready to face a nightmare.
Chapter Twenty-Four
* * *
MORGAN WALKED TOWARD the shop, and the crowd’s focus shifted to her. The police officer guarding the yellow tape barrier lifted the tape and let her through. Evidently, he’d seen her exit Tyler’s car and let her pass with Tyler on her heels. She wanted to get this over. She kept telling herself, Just go in and get it done.
“Morgan, wait up,” Tyler called and ran up to her before she went through the shop door. He’d fallen behind putting the mask over his head to conceal his identity from the crowd and news cameras. “You can’t just walk into a crime scene.”
She realized that when a police officer blocked her entrance into the shop.
“Let’s begin, so we can go home.”
“I’m all for the second part of that,” Tyler said and reached out to brush his fingers through her hair. Like before, she leaned into his touch, then stepped away and focused on the store.
Tyler showed his badge to the police officer at the door. Sam replaced him in the doorway while Morgan gave them her impressions.
“He came in this way. He stood out here for several minutes watching her inside, dusting the merchandise on the shelves. Soft music played in the background. Some kind of whimsical, enchanted instrumental.” She swayed to the rhythm of the music in her mind. “When she noticed him through the window, he went inside.”
Morgan jumped when her vision shifted to the outside world again, and Sam surprised her standing in front of her. Tyler thought she’d seen Sam come to the door. She’d simply been too focused on the scene in her mind to notice him. He’d have to remember to keep an eye on her. She already looked pale. He didn’t want her passing out on him like she’d done in the restaurant. He’d also watch to make sure she didn’t hurt herself when she lost focus on everything around her.
“Hi, Sam.”
“Hi. How’d you know it was me under the mask? Never mind. Don’t answer that. Are you actually going to come in here?”
“Yes.”
“She thinks she can help,” Tyler said.
“The coroner hasn’t removed the body. The forensic guys are dusting for prints and gathering evidence. Tyler and I will bring you in, but I want you to stay between us. Don’t touch anything.”
“I won’t. I’ll do whatever you two tell me to do. I don’t want to mess anything up.”
Sam and Tyler just stood there. Neither one of them wanted to be the one to take her inside when they knew it might hurt her.
“Are you guys going to make me stand in the door all night, or should we go in and see what happens?”
Tyler and Sam exchanged a look and Sam preceded them in with Tyler coming in behind Morgan. They watched her as she stood between them. She didn’t say anything. She just looked around.
Several other people worked scattered throughout the room, collecting evidence, taking pictures, and dusting every surface someone might have touched.
She’d spent much of her teenage years searching out places like this, hoping to find someone like her, someone who could explain the things she did.
This room didn’t hold the answers she needed about the murder. It held the lingering energy of people who sought answers they already knew, if they’d only quiet themselves to listen to their inner voice. She knew the scenario well. She received most of the questions through her website.
The room held the lingering swirl of excitement and fun. The kind of feeling you got at an amusement park, that sense of anticipation and wonder. The tingly feeling of fear when there wasn’t anything to really be afraid of, but you were, because you were headed into something unknown.
“There isn’t anything in this room but what you’d expect. People come in here looking for answers, and they’re all tied up with conflicting emotions. Some are excited and others are afraid of what the answer might be. Th
ere’s an overwhelming feeling of hopefulness. Some are hoping for confirmation and others are looking for validation. Many are looking for someone to tell them things will be different from what they fear.”
She smiled. “It’s kind of funny. People come in looking for magic. When they get it, some are excited and happy about finding something weird. Others go into some sort of denial, confusion, and anger. She couldn’t possibly have known that.” She mimicked so many people who had said the same thing to her—Tyler and Sam included.
“Are you ready to go in the room off the back? There isn’t much space, and she’s still in there,” Sam said, as much to prepare her as to stall for time before he took her back. No one needed to see the brutal murder, especially someone like Morgan, who might be able to feel the emotions of the killing.
She nodded her agreement and waited for Sam to lead her inside. Tyler stood so close behind her she could feel the brush of his jacket against her long hair.
They entered the room through a set of heavy purple velvet drapes, tied back with gold rope with tassels, like entering the tower of a castle. The walls were painted with a faux stone block pattern and wood planks worn smooth covered the floor. The owner had put a lot of thought into creating an old-world and mystical feeling. The soft glow of candles had been extinguished. The recessed lights burned bright, along with the flash of the camera.
Several shelves lined the walls. All held candles and crystal balls on pedestals in varying sizes and colors. In the candlelight, Morgan imagined the crystal balls would gleam and shine, casting light and shadow throughout the room.
She didn’t want to look behind the square table draped in heavy dark blue velvet. The golden base for the crystal ball sat empty on the table. The large crystal ball lay on the floor next to a small bookcase. Cracked and chipped from crashing to the floor during the struggle.
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