Max had seen a haunted look on her face. She had lost the connection with the boy, and it tore her up. “Did she want recognition? Money?” he asked, anticipating the questions from Sam.
“Just the opposite. From the beginning, she absolutely didn’t want her name released or associated with the case. I wouldn’t discount what she says, that’s for sure.”
“Thanks for your time, Captain.”
“Doesn’t prove anything,” Sam said when Max disconnected. “Maybe she knew where the boy was because she was in on that, too. Maybe this is what she does, if not for fame or money, then for sick kicks. It takes all types, you know that.”
“I don’t buy it.”
“I didn’t figure you would.” Sam grabbed his mug again, looked at the dregs in the bottom and set it down. “I’m going out for some real coffee.”
Max watched him leave. Sam’s body was tense, his movements stiff. What was going on with him? Sure, they usually zeroed in on a suspect early on and dug until they found something concrete one way or the other. But Sam’s case against Olivia seemed personal. If he didn’t know Sam better, he’d think it was because she was a woman first, and because she claimed to be psychic second. How well did he know Sam? Max had to wonder now.
Lieutenant Huntington stepped into the conference room and scanned the table. “Anything? Don’t make me look bad in front of Garrett. I’m already on shaky ground with him.”
Max shook his head. “If there’s a link between Olivia Howe and Mike Burns, we haven’t unearthed it yet. We’re working on a link between her and Pat Burns. With the insurance policy he took out, we can’t discount him as a suspect.”
“Wasn’t he at his office when the girl was taken?”
“That’s what the office manager said. He could have slipped out a window or had Mike or someone else do the deed.”
“What about the woman?”
“Either she’s psychically connected to this kid or she’s involved. I just talked to Captain Jack Richards up in Columbus, Ohio, where she lived for fifteen years prior to moving here over a year ago. He seems to think she’s the real thing.”
“What do you think?”
“I’m open to just about anything if it means a lead. Beyond what she said at the store, there’s nothing to indicate she’s involved in Phaedra’s abduction.” Max picked up her phone records. “I’ll track down who she’s been calling frequently and see if that leads us to anything interesting.”
“And if that doesn’t pan out?”
“We got nothing.” He was staring at all the papers on the table, stacked and categorized. “It’s like the girl disappeared into thin air.” He ran his hand over his face and rubbed away the fatigue. He thought Huntington had gone, but he was watching Max from the doorway.
“You want off the case, Callahan?”
The words struck Max like a fist. He remembered the man’s faith in him during the press conference. “Am I not doing a good job, sir?”
“You haven’t found her.”
“I will,” he heard himself promise.
“Tom Graham has wrapped up his case and wants to work this one. He’s just getting started on another homicide case. I’m giving you the chance to swap cases and step away with your dignity intact if it’s getting too much. If you’re sinking.”
Coward! he heard his father say. Max slowly blinked, clearing away the harsh voice from the past. His father was dead. And Max wasn’t a coward. No way was he handing Tom this case. Tom didn’t have what it took, didn’t have the patience. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but I’ve got it under control.”
He couldn’t walk away. It was already too late.
All Olivia wanted to do was forget about that scene outside her door. She locked the door and intended to absorb herself in music to soothe her frayed nerves. When she turned on the stereo, the volume was so loud, it knocked her back a step. “All right, I know I like my music loud, but not that loud.”
Wait a minute. The same thing had happened with the television that morning. She rubbed a fresh onslaught of goose bumps from her arms. Who would break into an apartment just to turn up the volume knobs? Unless that’s not all he did.
Another crop of goose bumps blistered her skin. Maybe she should report the intruder to the police after all.
“Yeah, I can’t identify him, prove he was here, or tell whether he took anything, but oh, I know he turned up the volume on my stereo. They’d jump right on that.”
Her sarcastic laughter rang hollow in her ears. Someone had come into her apartment. Who? Why? “Don’t think about it. There’s nothing you can do. Nothing.” Frustration swamped her. She was pacing, hoping her movements would keep the fear at bay. “Not afraid,” she whispered on a shaky breath. “I am not afraid,” she said in a stronger voice.
The knock on her door nearly sent her through the ceiling.
“Who is it?”
“Bill Williams. I need to talk to you.”
She recognized his honeyed southern voice and unlocked the door. Good. She’d ask him to take a look around. “Come in.”
“Hi, there, girl,” he said to Stasia. He remained near the door after he’d closed it. “I had another vision. I think I know where she is.”
Her hand went to her throat where her heart had lodged. “She’s all right? I haven’t gotten much from her today. Just some unease, not enough to allow me to connect to her.”
“She’s fine. Well, as fine as she can be.”
“You saw where she’s being held?”
“She’s on a boat. There were some numbers on the bow, but I couldn’t see them clearly. There were letters, too, the name of the boat probably. I saw a T and an R. It was so quick, I couldn’t see enough of it.” His frustration at that was clear. “It’s a serious fishing boat, probably more than fifty feet long. I think it has rigging on the sides and the chair in the back. It’s painted dark gray, kind of old looking. It’s docked in the harbor.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“Remember when I said you’d be my mouthpiece? This is the time. If you even hint that you got this from a cop, they’ll know it was me, and my career will be sunk.”
“But there are so many officers on the force. How would they know it was you?”
He touched her arm. “I’m the only cop they know who has special skills. Sam O’Reilly will be on me like a swarm of bees.”
She remembered how cutting Max’s partner was.
Before she could say anything more, he gave her arm a slight squeeze. “We can find her, Olivia. You can find her. You can be the one to prove that what we see, what we feel, is real. Then maybe I’ll be able to use my skills openly someday.”
She felt an odd apprehension at that. It was probably because of the difficulty in passing off someone else’s vision as her own. “Can you get to the harbor and take a look around? Maybe you’ll see the boat. Then I can send Max Callahan right to it.”
“I can’t. I’m on my way to relieve some officers on a stakeout. My partner’s in the car right now, and it was hard enough to get him to stop here for a few minutes. You can do this, Olivia. Do it for Phaedra. Do it for every kid who didn’t get found in time.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Let me get the details straight.” She recited what he’d told her, rewarded each time by an enthusiastic affirmation. He surprised her by touching her cheek. “This is an important thing you’re doing. I’ll be listening to the radio, hoping for good news.”
With that he was gone. She found herself rubbing her cheek and wasn’t sure why. She walked to her desk and picked up Louis, her personal organizer. Her finger traced over the buttons as she searched for Max’s number. She held it up to the telephone and it dialed for her.
She was bothered by the catch in her breath at the sound of his soft, low voice when he answered. “Detective Callahan, it’s Olivia. I think I know where Phaedra is.”
“Max, I can’t believe you’re here because of that strange broad,” Sam
said as they traversed the boardwalk. “Hell, I can’t believe I’m here.”
“Because if she’s right, I’ll need your help. And because we don’t have any better leads to follow. And because time is running out, in case you didn’t notice.”
“Yeah, and I also noticed you didn’t exactly tell a lot of people we were coming out here.”
“Just enough so that if we disappear, they’ll know where to find us.”
Sam snorted. “Comforting thought.”
Max scanned the boats at the harbor. Most of them were luxury or sporting boats. He focused on boats spiked with fishing poles and radar antennae. Serious fishing boats.
“Keeping her on a boat makes sense,” Max added. “Especially if they’re moored far from the other boats.”
The late afternoon air was filled with sound, possibly enough to cover any sounds the girl might make. His gaze went to one in particular that was moored farther from the rest. He could see no activity onboard, though a dinghy was tied to its side. It sported a dozen fishing poles and several antennae that speared the air. A high platform allowed the captain to scout for schools of fish. Sun and salt water had dulled the gray paint. In scrappy letters on the bow was the word Trawlblazer. His heart rate doubled.
“That’s it. She saw a T and an R.”
“Yeah, and over there is the True Blue. And over there, the Rutting Bull.”
“But they’re not gray. Come on, let’s find a way out to it.”
Fifteen minutes later, they’d hired a guy with a small boat to come up beside the boat. Max glanced at Sam. “What is it you’re supposed to say?”
Sam raised his badge and called, “Permission to come aboard! Palomera police.”
A guy appeared on deck and scowled. “What’s this about?”
“We’d like to take a look around your vessel. There’s been a report that a young girl is on this boat, and we need to check it out.”
Two other men appeared from inside. “I wish we had a girl on board,” one of them said with a lascivious snort. “But we don’t.”
“Then you won’t mind us taking a look around for ourselves.”
The first man shrugged. “Come on aboard.”
Max and Sam climbed aboard. Sam remained on deck with his gun prominently in view. Max took the search detail. His body was tensed, ready for anything. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, pulsing in a combination of anticipation and fear. He kept his gun at his side as he went into the upper level cabin. This had been a luxury yacht at one time, but age now tarnished the finishes. A couch wrapped around two sides of the cabin in the living room. The kitchen sported a full-sized refrigerator and even a dishwasher. He went below.
The cabins were cluttered, the beds unmade. He checked beneath the beds and in all the various closets and cubbyholes, but found nothing more than the living habits of three unkempt men. It wasn’t until then that his heart rate returned to almost normal. He kept his gun at the ready as he checked for any doorway or hatch he’d missed.
“How do you maintain the engine?” he asked the men when he stepped onto the back deck.
“Down here.” The man lifted a small lid and gestured down some steps. Max climbed down them and looked around. He climbed back up and then checked out the captain’s platform. He hated giving Sam a subtle shake of his head when he returned. “Thanks for your time,” he said to the men and climbed down to the boat.
“I’m not even going to say, ‘I told you so,’” Sam said as he followed.
“Good, because we’re going to check out that boat over there, too. And if that one doesn’t pan out, you can not say it again.”
“Don’t tell me you believe that woman is psychic.”
Max met his skeptical gaze. “Right now I’d believe in the tooth fairy if I thought it would help us find that girl.”
Olivia hadn’t felt Phaedra all day other than a ripple of unease. As evening approached, she grew more worried. What was happening? Was she—?
“No, don’t think like that. She’s still alive.”
She finished off her Snickers bar and realized all those calories were wasted. She’d been too busy worrying to enjoy them. It was just that Phaedra’s fear had leveled off. She had been a captive for three days now, and the man’s appearance alone wouldn’t trigger her fear. In a sad way, she’d become used to the fear. Olivia remembered reaching that plateau. She couldn’t handle being afraid all the time. As day passed into day, she had also started giving up hope of getting home again.
Hopefully Phaedra hadn’t given up yet.
Max had kept his voice neutral when he’d called to tell her he had found nothing. He didn’t have to tell her that she’d brought him disappointment and embarrassment…and given his partner more fuel for his skeptical fire.
Bill had seemed so sure. Sometimes it happened that way. Like her seeing Phaedra’s captor cut her hair, for instance, her mind inserting parts of her own trauma into the girl’s experience. She knew other psychics got things wrong, too. Once she’d realized that she was connecting to these children, she’d done some research on psychic phenomena. Even the most renowned psychics made mistakes. It still didn’t offer much comfort.
When the phone rang, she grabbed for it. Bill’s southern voice filled the line. “I heard the bad news. I’m sorry, Olivia. I must have misinterpreted what I saw. Or maybe it’s in another harbor.”
“Well, I don’t think Detective Callahan is going to check out any more harbors on my word.”
“Probably not. What about you? Anything?”
“Nothing yet. I’m worried about her.”
“Me, too. We’ll find her. Don’t give up on me, Olivia. I’ll be in touch.”
Since the Snickers bar made no impact, she decided to open a bag of chocolate chip cookies. When she couldn’t rip the bag’s seam, she opened the cutlery drawer and grabbed a knife. She jerked back with a scream. Her first thought, as the blade bit into her finger, was that a snake was coiled in the drawer. “What the…” She stuck her bleeding finger in her mouth and felt around the edge of the wooden tray with her other hand. The steak knives were always in the left slot with the edges pointed down.
Only the sharp edges were pointed up now. Every knife had been turned the wrong way. On purpose.
Terry’s voice echoed in her head. Dammit, you need me! What do I have to do to prove that to you?
She slammed the drawer shut. “Okay, this isn’t funny. The volume was one thing. This was meant to hurt me.” It was time to report this to the police, whether they believed her or not. She wanted someone to take a look around and make sure there weren’t any other booby traps. Dammit, if she could see—”Don’t even go there.”
She was trying to decide whether to call the main number at the police station or Max Callahan when intense discomfort flashed through her. She slid to the floor and let the connection take her to that dark room again.
Phaedra’s voice, “Please, I have to pee. You made me drink all that water.”
“I don’t hear you unless you call me Father.”
“Father…I have to pee.”
He lifted an empty gallon jug of water and then checked the floor to make sure she hadn’t spilled it. “You’ll have to hold it in. I only have time to bring you food, not long enough to take you to the bathroom.”
“But—”
“Don’t talk back to me, Rose. And don’t wet yourself. You’re a big girl; you can hold it. I’ll be back later.”
He couldn’t leave her. He’d made her drink all that water. He couldn’t make her hold it any longer.
But he was. He closed the door behind him. For a moment, silence. And then the sound again. Dripping water.
She crossed her legs as tight as possible and stared at the door. Please come back. Please. It was painful now. Her jaw was sore from grimacing.
A gold shamrock rested on her knees, dangling from a chain. She grabbed hold of it and ran her fingers over the edges. “Mommy, please come get me. Daddy�
��that man, he’s not my father.” Her voice was raspy from non-use. “I’m Phaedra, not Rose, not Rose.”
Olivia jerked out of the flashback, catching her breath. Stasia’s cold nose was pressing against her arm, and she was pawing at Olivia’s hand.
“You can’t bring me back, sweetie,” she said, stroking Stasia’s head. “I know you’re frightened for me, but I have to do this. I have to stay with her long enough to see where she is. I wish you could understand me.”
She went over what she’d seen, confused again by the similarity with her own experience. The cap and the shadows obscured the man’s face. She did see a splash of light against the wall—the wall was green, just as Bill had said. But the part about him insisting she call him Father, the hair cut, him calling her Rose, and now the water…why was she getting the two abductions confused? Why—
She slapped her hand over her mouth. What she’d seen. Why hadn’t she realized it before? She had never seen the jug of water or the bars from inside the cage. As soon as she’d seen the cage as he’d been about to put her in it, she’d fought him. They’d struggled, he’d knocked her out, and when she woke, she was blind. She’d never seen any of that.
Yet she was seeing it now. Because it was real. All of it.
She rubbed her temples. “No, it can’t be. He’s dead.” The authorities had been sure; there had even been a witness.
It had been logical to assume she’d gotten the real images and her memories confused…but she had no visual memories to confuse. “It’s him. He’s alive.”
There couldn’t possibly be two insane men with the same agenda. That would mean the man who kidnapped her hadn’t died. That he was still taking girls for a reason that had never become clear. What had been plainly clear to her was that he’d intended to harm her. He’d talked about punishing her on Christmas night, but he’d never said what he was punishing her for or how he was going to do it.
Blindsight [Now You See Me] (Romantic Suspense) Page 12