"And Charlotte Foreman," she heard Natassia say behind her.
Brandon's blue eyes followed her. "Maybe the brother, Ronald, did it."
Jasi shook her head. "No, Ronald Jones drowned when he was a kid. An accidental death. In the river behind the house."
"What else do we have?"
"We have the twins," she acknowledged. "They're the main connection in both cases. But who would want to kill for them?"
Brandon stared at her, hard. "Ronald is dead, Jasi. That only leaves one other person with motive, means…and opportunity."
Stunned, her head jerked toward him.
"Cameron Prescott?"
"She could be the one we're after," he suggested softly.
"But I sensed a male mind, not female," she protested, dropping onto the bed. "And Natassia saw a young man in a yellow jacket."
Natassia raised her hands, then dropped them in her lap. "I don't know, Jasi."
"She doesn't fit your profile, Ben," she argued, rolling over on her side, one hand propped beneath her head.
Ben shrugged. "Theoretically, Cameron is the perfect suspect. Washburn abandoned her, Foreman abused her and her twin brother drowned while in Charlotte Foreman's care. And the low voice you heard in your vision? You said yourself that her throat had been damaged. Revenge is a deadly thing, Jasi. We can't rule her out."
"But, Ben―"
He gave her an apologetic look. "My profile is based on commonalities. Arsonists are predominantly male but not always."
Brandon settled beside her on the edge of the bed.
"Ben's right," he remarked softly. "Women commit about ten to eighteen percent of all arson crimes, Jasi. I've apprehended a few myself. And most of them reported abusive adult relationships or childhood abuse."
Jasi frowned, remembering the scars on the reporter's arms. "Cameron had cigarette burns on her arms…a childhood injury, she told me."
Brandon lowered his voice. "The evidence is all there."
She shook her head. "It can't be her. I would have sensed something."
"Hey, Jasi?" Natassia interrupted softly. "I know what happened to her brother."
Jasi sat up hastily. "What?"
"Ronald Jones went swimming with a foster brother in the river out back. The brother told police that Ronald went too far into the water and was swept downstream by the current. Search and Rescue found some of Ronald's clothing covered in blood, and a running shoe, but they couldn't recover his body."
Brandon turned to Natassia. "How'd you come up with all that?"
"I'm psychic. Remember?" Natassia grinned. "Actually, while you were all talking I ran a search through the newspapers. After the twins' arrival at Vancouver General, they were placed into Child Protective Services. I just followed the trail from there."
"But how'd you get into the CPS records?" Brandon asked, surprised.
Jasi locked her eyes on his. "She hacked in, Brandon. Natassia's good at that." She smiled at Natassia and was rewarded with a wide, proud grin.
"The kid who went swimming with Ronald. I think that was Baker," Jasi suggested. "Maybe he can tell us something about Cameron."
Ben connected with Baker's message system. "Baker's not picking up. I'll leave him a message." He left an urgent message telling Baker to call right away, and then he hung up.
Jasi flopped in the chair beside Natassia and mulled over the sudden change of direction their investigation had taken. How could she have known that when she sat at Bits & Bytes drinking coffee with Cameron Prescott, she had been sitting across from a serial killer?
I should have known!
Shit!
How was she supposed to bring Cameron in? Yeah, some of the evidence pointed to her, but some of it just didn't add up. How did a woman her size drag a heavy man like Washburn across the cabin floor? How could she have watched while three people burned to death?
How could she have murdered a little girl?
Jasi leaned forward in her chair, her hands clasped tightly between her knees.
"When I read the crime scene at Washburn's cabin, I experienced the killer's rage. But at Charlotte Foreman's I sensed remorse―regret. The killer knew that the child was being released from something worse than death."
A horrible thought flickered in her mind. Cameron would have seen the death of Samantha Davis as a mercy killing.
When Jasi raised her eyes, she realized Ben had had the same thought.
"We'll have to bring her in, Jasi," he warned pensively.
"I know," she whispered softly. "Just remember, innocent until proven guilty, Ben. I need some air."
I need to escape…to think.
She stepped outside on the balcony deck and abandoned herself to the night sky. Dusk was settling over Kelowna. And with the dimming light, Jasi sensed that they were running out of time. She knew in her heart that the killer would strike again.
The killer…Cameron.
Staring out over the city rooftops, Jasi tried to make sense of it all. If Ben and Brandon were right then Cameron Prescott was a violent murderer. The woman she had met had hardly seemed capable of murder. Jasi had liked Cameron. Now all the evidence linked Cameron Prescott to three murders.
Was she a cold-blooded killer?
"Can we place her at or near the Foreman scene?" she called out from the doorway.
"Yes," Natassia answered. "She was in Victoria the day of Foreman's murder covering the backlash from the Parliament case.
Jasi kneaded her pounding forehead. A headache had developed, tiny pinpricks stabbing her eyes. She leaned forward and rested her head against the cold glass, closing her eyes for a moment.
"Cameron Prescott was also here in Kelowna the night of Washburn's murder," she heard herself say. "She was covering Baker's campaign."
Her own gullibility enraged her. She prided herself on being able to read people. Not in a psychic way, just purely intuition. And usually her intuition was correct. Although it had let her down before on at least one occasion.
How could I have been so wrong about you, Cameron?
Jasi flopped on the bed. Raising one arm, she covered her eyes, grateful for the cool darkness. The last thing she needed was a migraine.
She thought about Cameron Prescott. The evidence against her was convincing. The reporter had been near both crime scenes. Fire could have been a way to purge herself of past demons.
Jasi sighed. It seemed impossible to believe. But she had been fooled before, tricked into believing someone was a friend. That mistake had almost resulted in Ben's death.
She glanced at Brandon.
Perhaps her intuition had been blocked by other emotions―like desire. Her face burned at the thought. She needed to concentrate on the case and forget about Brandon Walsh. Time to focus on the evidence that was pointing to Cameron Prescott. If they rushed this and Cameron was innocent, her career as a reporter would be over. But if she was guilty…
"I'm not thoroughly convinced it's Cameron," Jasi admitted. "Let me tie up a few loose ends, Ben. Not everything fits her. I find it hard to believe she carried Washburn's dead weight into the cabin. And what about the boot prints we found?"
Ben said nothing.
"Just give me until the morning," she sighed.
"Okay," he agreed. "Cameron doesn't know we're on to her. Tomorrow I'll contact Divine and have him issue an arrest warrant for her first thing in the morning. Right now, we all need some food and a good night's rest."
Natassia agreed readily but Jasi shook her head. "I'm not hungry. I'm staying here to review the files."
Ben opened his mouth to argue.
"It's okay," she assured him. "I'm fine."
She opened the door to the hallway and waited expectantly. Natassia followed Ben through the doorway, while Brandon hung back.
"Go!" Jasi snapped. "I don't need you here, Walsh."
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and disappeared into the bathroom. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she made a face.
"Liar!"
21
Brandon felt like a bug trapped under a microscope.
In the hallway, Agent Roberts examined him with a strange, penetrating look. One hand held the door ajar while Natassia waited at the far end, casting curious glances in their direction.
Roberts grabbed him. "Hold on a minute, Walsh."
Suspiciously eyeing the ungloved hand that detained him, Brandon sucked in a breath. "What?"
The man grinned. "You're all right, Walsh."
"Yeah, I know," Brandon grinned back, releasing the air trapped in his lungs. "You reading me again, Agent Roberts?"
Roberts quickly took his hand from Brandon's arm.
"I'm not sure what's up with Jasi," he admitted, nudging his head toward the closed door. "But she needs someone to keep an eye on her."
Brandon agreed, bewildered that Roberts was encouraging him. "Maybe I'll stay behind, order up some room service."
"If you don't mind," Roberts replied wryly.
He released the door and Brandon grabbed it quickly.
"Not at all."
"I didn't think so," Roberts chuckled, and with a nod, he headed for the elevator. "Natassia won't be back tonight."
When Brandon entered Jasi's hotel room, he felt awkward―like a teenager sneaking into the girl's dorm. His heart skipped a beat at the thought that he would be alone with Jasi.
Finally.
Locking the door behind him, he took a deep breath and squinted into the darkness. The lights had been dimmed. Probably to ease Jasi's headache, he reasoned.
He allowed his eyes to adjust, then scoured the room.
It was empty.
Feeling a slight breeze, he strode over to the balcony. The doors were open and the sheers billowed softly.
When he peered outside, he spotted her.
Jasi stood on the balcony, wearing a thick aqua-colored robe. She had her back to him. She was lost in thought, watching the sun slowly dip over the horizon. The sky was flame-red, and the sun's rays painted her hair with streaks of fire.
For a moment, Brandon couldn't breathe. He stepped up behind her, about to call her name, when she spoke.
"Why did you come back, Brandon?"
Her voice was weary.
"Sorry," he said ruefully, although he was unsure of why he was apologizing.
He leaned against the sliding door. "You okay?"
She turned slowly, her green eyes drifting over him, nervous and afraid.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were going for supper with Natassia and Ben."
He shrugged, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm not that hungry either. And I thought you could use some company."
Jasi raised one brow, eyeing him disdainfully.
"Okay, I know," he chuckled softly. "I'm not your favorite company. But damn it, lady, I'm all you've got."
She released a ragged breath. "I guess you'll have to do then."
Brandon was surprised. He had expected more of a fight from her.
"This thing with Cameron Prescott has really thrown you, hasn't it?" he asked, stepping closer.
He couldn't resist sliding his hands along her arms.
Jasi froze at his touch, then lowered her head and sighed.
When he lifted her chin, she twisted away.
"You don't understand, Brandon! I was in the killer's mind. Cameron's mind! I saw everything she did. I felt every ounce of hatred. Every evil…murderous…thought."
Turning her back on him, Jasi gripped the rails of the balcony, her voice bitingly soft. "And then I had coffee with her. I never suspected she could be a killer."
"Why do you think that is?"
"I'll tell you why," Jasi muttered bitterly. "Because I was too busy thinking about you! I wasn't focussed. Instead, I told her things―things I don't normally tell people I've just met."
She seemed so fragile and lost that he barely registered what she had said about him.
"You told her you were a PSI?"
"No, not that," Jasi huffed, spinning around to face him. "Other things. About my family―personal things. I saw her as a…friend."
Confused, Brandon looked at her, reached for her. "But that's normal, isn't it, to confide in a friend?"
She pushed his hand away. "It's not normal for me. I'm not like everyone else. I can't have normal relationships."
Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her. He could feel her resistance as she struggled against him.
"It's okay, Jasi," he murmured in her ear. "Relax."
Brandon knew the moment she gave up fighting him. He savored the rapid beating of her heart echoing against his hand. Holding her tightly reminded him of the night before. Too much wine had resulted in Jasi sliding up to him, whispering suggestively in his ear.
Then she had passed out.
He deserved a medal for his control. Any other man would have taken what she had so willingly offered, but Brandon didn't want her that way.
But I want her now. Right here, right now.
"Jasi?" he whispered hoarsely, staring into the depths of her emerald eyes.
He smiled wickedly as she anxiously peered down over her shoulder. Jasi's back was against the rail of the balcony, trapped. There was nowhere to go.
Except down. And it was too far to jump.
He shifted closer. "What are you so afraid of?"
"Lemmings," she murmured softly, her eyes capturing his.
Her moist lips parted slightly and he knew he had to taste her. He almost lost control when her tongue slid nervously across her lips.
Damn!
Brandon slid his hands beneath her hair, caressing her face with his fingers. His thumbs gently traced her soft lips and his body leaned in toward hers.
And then he lowered his head.
"I want you," he groaned, before his mouth clamped down on hers.
There was a moment of shock when Jasi responded to his kiss. Her soft mouth slowly opened and invited him in. The heat was searing and raw, and it was all he could do to restrain himself and not take her right there on the balcony.
"I'm not going to let you jump off any cliff," he promised against her lips.
His arms circled her, tightening. Then he devoured her face, her eyelids, and the long line of her sensuous throat. His tongue traced a salty path along the inside of her neck, down across her shoulder where he bit gently into her skin.
He slowly nudged her robe aside, his fingers grazing over smooth, delicate warm skin. She was naked, shivering beneath the robe. He caressed her, his fingers spanning under her breasts, lifting them, while soft moans erupted from the back of her throat.
An aching hunger arose and he felt its gnawing urgency.
Brandon was lost, starved for her touch.
When he felt Jasi trembling, he deepened his kiss, entwining his tongue with hers. He gasped when her hands fluttered against his chest and the buttons of his shirt began opening, one by one. Seconds later, his feverish flesh made contact with hers, and he choked back a groan as a jolt of electricity sizzled along his stomach, down into his groin.
"I want you, Jasi," he groaned, intrigued by her, intoxicated with wanting her.
His mouth crushed down, hard and ravenous, and he dragged her back into the room. He held her tightly, unwilling to let her go.
"I want you now."
Lost in her eyes, he recognized desire.
And fear.
Brandon kissed her again―soft, tender nibbles.
Without taking his lips from hers, he stumbled backward into the room, pulling her with him until they bumped into the wall near the door to the hallway.
Sliding his hands to the collar of her robe, he peeled it back over her shoulders, baring her breasts, and pinned her against the door. Then he plunged into the depths of her awaiting mouth, half-mad from wanting her.
"This is heaven," he whispered.
"Brandon, this is…crazy."
Her lips contradicted her as they sought his.
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"I'm crazy," he muttered. "About you."
"Wait!" she begged breathlessly, pulling back.
He didn't want to wait.
She watched him with eyes so green that he was reminded of the sea. A man could drown in those eyes, he thought.
I'm drowning.
He roughly stretched her hands above her head and held her there, captive. His other hand had a mind of its own. It skimmed down the side of her body, lightly touching every hot, trembling curve.
"I'm on fire, Jasi," he groaned, his fingers stroking her ribs, her waist…lower.
Then he fastened on her eager and willing mouth.
"We can't," she gasped against his lips.
"Yes, we can," Brandon whispered. "We've got all night, Jasi. We can take our time, go slow. We've got all the time in the world."
When she abruptly pulled away, he realized too late, that he had said the wrong thing.
"No!" she panted, ducking under his arm. "Jesus! We can't do this, Brandon!"
She stared at him, motionless and wide-eyed. "Oh my God! What was I thinking?" Her voice was breathless, filled with panic.
Confused, he stepped toward her. "What do you mean, Jasi? You want this as much as I do."
"It doesn't matter what I want," she answered harshly. "You and I? All we are is business. Don't you―"
His lips seared hers, stealing the oxygen from her, halting her angry words.
Jasi let out a ragged cry. "Stop…"
His eyes found hers. "Then you'd better say please, Agent McLellan."
Brandon dropped his head and his hungry mouth branded her.
Lost in the heat of passion, Jasi fought to regain a grip on reality. It was a fragile thread that held her sanity intact. With her past history, she knew it was inevitable―the thread would break…eventually.
"Please, Brandon."
She heard him under his breath. Then his hands immediately dropped to his side.
She exhaled slowly, relieved.
Hauling the robe up around her shoulders, she remained silent, uncertain of what to say. She knew she was being unfair to him. But hell! Life was unfair.
Self-loathing made her turn away.
"I'm sorry. It's late. You have to leave."
Divine Intervention (Divine Trilogy) Page 17