Authors: Jennifer Ryan
Sam grabbed Tyler’s arm before he touched Morgan. “Give her a chance. She went into this trance on her own. We didn’t ask her to try and find out where the guy is. I think she wants to end this.”
“Of course she wants to end it. People are dying.”
“Yes. And she feels responsible because this started with her. She said this would end with her. Maybe this is it. Maybe she’ll come out of this with the guy’s name and where we can find him.”
If she were anyone but the woman he loved, he would wait it out. So he stepped back and gave her some space. The smile had long since faded from her lips. They turned as pale as her skin. Her eyes were as dark as he’d ever seen them. He and Sam stood behind her just in case she collapsed. God, he hoped she didn’t.
Morgan’s sight was clearer, sharper than it had ever been. This is important.
Life and death.
She went to the window at the end of the hall and spirited her way through it and down the side of the building. The building and the neighborhood were in a state of decay. She found the front door along with a bank of mailboxes. She scanned them, found 6D, and read the red plastic label:
M. Tall
.
“That’s a name you could never live up to. You were never tall in stature or in your life, but you’ve found a way to make yourself larger than life. You take it away. You’ve found a thrill in those women’s deaths. Although you seek me, you’ll continue to kill because you like it. You’ve been anonymous your whole life, and now you’ve found a way to make that anonymity work for you, so you can be hidden and seen.
“Everyone knows the Psychic Slayer, yet no one knows M. Tall.
“I know you, Mr. Tall.
“I’m coming for you.”
Her words, haunting and whispered like a secret confessed in the dead of night, sent a chill down Tyler’s back.
“Please tell me she isn’t talking to him,” Sam pleaded.
She’d given them his name. Now all they needed was an address and they’d get him. Progress. Finally.
She moved over to a map hanging on the other wall. She held up both hands and ran them over the map. Her right finger stopped and pointed to a spot. Sam and Tyler both looked over her shoulder.
“Twenty-three Windsor Street,” she whispered.
Her finger rested on the street. The red dots indicating the murder locations spread out in an odd circle around the street she indicated. He’d picked the women, or the ads, based on the proximity to his own home. Close enough to walk to, most of them within twenty minutes from his apartment. Not so unusual for a serial killer to hunt in a familiar area.
Morgan leaned against the wall, hands spread wide. She knew who he is, knew where he lived, now all she had to do was find him and stop him.
S
HE DISAPPEARED INTO
the police station over an hour ago. He watched, waited, hid behind a dumpster in the back of the parking lot across the street, keeping the entrance and their car in sight. The anticipation made his gut tighten. He wiped his damp hands down his thighs.
Overwhelmed with excitement, she’d finally arrived, and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her. He’d waited outside the shop where he’d killed that woman, Rose. She’d known about him. She’d known about Morgan. Things she couldn’t have known unless she was like Morgan.
The others were actors in a costume playing to their audience. He wished he’d kept Rose longer. He wished he’d had his special place ready, so he could explore the depths of what made her special.
Rose wasn’t the one. He wanted Morgan.
At first, he’d thought her a witch out to destroy him. He knew better now. She was the catalyst to his discovering his own power. Invisible his whole life, now he was somebody. People feared him, and others admired him for eradicating the imposters.
Ethereal and golden even in the night, she glowed like he imagined angels glowed with an inner light that shined through. Just thinking about her and the powers she possessed and controlled excited him.
Yes, she’s his angel, sent to show the world who he really is.
The chill in the air seeped through his coat and goose flesh rose on his skin. The fog had rolled in with the setting sun and cast an eerie glow on the streets.
She’ll come out soon, he told himself over and over again. He’d get his chance and she’d be his.
The wind blew, swirling the fog.
Someone tapped his shoulder.
He turned quickly, afraid he’d been discovered. No one.
Nothing behind him but trash and darkness. He thought he saw a transparent light blink out. Chills ran up his spine and a cold sweat broke out over his skin.
Scared to death, someone had just walked over his grave.
E
VERYONE SCRAMBLED TO
gather whatever information they could on M. Tall at 23 Windsor Street, apartment 6D.
Tyler led Morgan to a chair at the far side of the room and made her sit down. She’d done it. She’d gotten the information they needed. The fact that she looked like the walking dead didn’t do much to make him happy about how they got the information. Eyes sunken, cheeks hollow, she’d shriveled before his eyes. Torn, he needed to get her out of there and back to the ship, but he also had to do his job and catch the bastard killing women and hunting Morgan.
“If she’d done whatever she did weeks ago, we could have saved time and
lives
,” Stewart remarked.
Morgan didn’t respond to Stewart, but sat as if she’d turned to stone, or fragile porcelain. Tyler lost it. He grabbed Stewart by the front of his shirt and propelled him across the room and as far away from Morgan as he could get the asshole. He shoved him against the wall of gruesome photos.
“She’s done everything she can to help on this case and it’s taking everything she has to do it. Do what you should have done at the press conference and shut the fuck up. If you don’t, I’ll see that you do. Got it?”
“Man, relax, I was only saying…”
Tyler slammed him against the wall again. “Not another word.”
Stewart got his message and slipped free and left the room. Maybe now Morgan could have the space she needed to recover from all she’d done.
Tyler sucked in a deep breath and let it out on a ragged sigh, trying to pull himself together before he faced Morgan again. He didn’t want to bombard her with his emotions.
He turned to her, but found nothing but her empty chair as everyone around him scrambled to do their job and not piss him off.
A spurt of adrenaline and fear rushed through his system. “Where did Morgan go?” Tyler asked, inwardly trying to sense her, but feeling nothing.
One of the officers getting ready to go serve the search warrant on the apartment spoke first. “The lady? She left a few minutes ago while we were going over the building layout. She didn’t look so good. I think maybe she’s sick.”
Tyler and Sam looked at each other.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Sam said. “She probably just needed to get away. Everyone is anxious and worried about the operation, she probably couldn’t handle all the emotions.”
Tyler wasn’t convinced. “I wanted to take her back to the ship. She needs the isolation after everything that’s happened. I thought maybe Captain Finn could come and get her and I’d meet her back there later.”
“You want me to go look for her while you coordinate the teams?”
Distracted by his ringing phone, Tyler didn’t answer Sam, who turned to answer a question from one of the officers.
“Reed.”
“Got the information you requested.”
“You found it.”
“Two years ago. Martin Tall. He asked about getting a job, and she responded that he’d get it. She also told him she knew what he’d done, and he should turn himself into the police.”
“Did she say what she knew?”
“No such luck there.”
“Shit. Did he say the name of the company?”
“Mimitech.”
“Perfect. Contact them and get his records. Dig up whatever you can on him. Start with the credit card he used to pay for the response and the business. I want this guy’s history.”
The noise in the room grew louder with all the officers talking and planning for the operation to find and take down the Psychic Slayer, aka Martin Tall.
Sam waited beside him for further explanation.
“You heard the bit about his request through her website about whether he’d get a job with a place called Mimitech. It’s a copier repair service. Tech is doing the background now.”
He turned around. Turned around again. Puzzled, he rubbed the base of his neck.
Sam grabbed his arm to stop him from turning again. “Who are you looking for?”
Morgan screamed in his mind.
Tyler!
The pain knifed through his brain, like the time she yelled
No!
during the press conference. He grabbed his head and grit his teeth.
Sam shoved Tyler into a chair. “What’s the matter?”
“Mor-gan,” he answered between clenched teeth, barely able to get her name out.
Tyler jumped up and ran from the conference room, Sam on his heels. They busted through the front door on the run like they were fleeing a fire. Officers and civilians stared after them. They searched the immediate area, but didn’t find Morgan.
“You take the parking lot. I’ll go around the other side of the building. Maybe she took a short walk.” Even Sam didn’t believe that, but said it in hopes Tyler would think it sounded good.
“She could barely walk ten minutes ago. I had to make her sit in the chair. She still seemed out of it, like she was still in a vision.”
It hit him all at once. “Shit! She was still searching him out. She found him. He took her from right under our noses.” He looked around again. “She came out here, stood right outside the police station, and he took her.”
“You don’t know that. She might have just gone for a walk to clear her head. Maybe she’s too tired to get back here, and that’s why she called out to you.”
He shook his head. “No. She screamed my name because she’s scared. Our connection broke again. I had her, but now she’s gone again.” He ran his hand through his hair and pulled on it in frustration.
They knew the guy’s name and where he lived, but they didn’t know anything else. They’d only had the information for half an hour, at most. The task force team worked diligently putting information together. Undercover officers remained posted outside the building, surrounding it. No one had spotted the suspect, and he wasn’t at home. Now, it seemed, he had Morgan.
“Tyler, can you tell if she’s still with you at all?” Sam asked the odd question, and yet they were both getting used to Morgan and her ways.
Tyler had to calm down, try to clear his mind, and sense whether she was with him or not. Angry she was gone. Unsure what to do next. Scared to death that bastard would kill her like all the others. He couldn’t lose her now—before they’d ever had a real chance to live their lives together.
He sat down on the step, took a deep breath, let it out, and did it again. His eyes went up to the darkening night sky. He felt the breeze on his face, closed his eyes, and tried to empty his mind of everything but Morgan.
Morgan, where are you?
A splitting headache throbbed at the back of his head. He rubbed at the back of his neck to try to ease the tension and got a vision of Morgan curled up holding the back of her head.
“Shit! She’s in the trunk of a car. He bashed her over the head, and she’s hurting bad.”
“She told you that?” Sam asked.
“No. I saw her. I don’t know. It’s like she sent me a picture. I could see her in the dark trunk curled up with her hands covering her head. Hell, the back of my head started hurting, but I lost the picture, and my head doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“Okay. This is good. She can communicate with us.”
“Sam, she’s wiped out, and she’s hurt. For a few seconds, I could feel her. I actually felt what she feels. I don’t know how to explain to you how empty she is. It’s like every ounce of energy has been drained from her. Holding her head was like asking her to dig a six-foot hole.”
“Bad analogy, buddy.” Sam looked off in the distance, thinking things through, and turned back. “Okay, so we know who he is, we know he has her, and they’re in a car. Did you see what kind of car?”
“No. I saw her as if I hovered a few inches above her.” He considered the dark space. “She’s not tall, maybe five-seven. She lay cramped in the trunk, so we’re looking for a compact car, definitely not an SUV. No spare tire beside her, so there’s either a compartment for it in the trunk space, or under the car. It’s not a hatchback, but it’s small.”
Tyler’s cell phone rang. He didn’t want to deal with anything right now. He needed to concentrate on the picture she’d sent to him. Maybe he could come up with something else. He checked the caller ID, realized he couldn’t ignore the tech at the FBI.
“Reed.” He listened while the tech ran down the information he’d dug up.
“Shit!” He hung up and wanted to throw the damn thing across the street. Instead, he squeezed the phone until his knuckles ached.
“Is that your new favorite word?”
Sam didn’t like seeing Tyler out of control and not thinking straight. It reminded him of what he was like when Elizabeth was in danger. Personal involvement made it hard to make the right decision. “Who was that?”
“The tech guy doing the background check on Mr. Tall. He checked the credit card used on Morgan’s website. In the last two days, he’s purchased things at a hardware store, a drug store, grocery store, and used a car rental agency, in addition to the various other charges that all looked like regular purchases.”
They both knew what this meant. No telling what he’d purchased at a hardware store and drugstore. Nothing good if he planned a kidnapping. He had food and a vehicle and Morgan. He could go anywhere and do anything to her before they found her.
Tyler calmly walked back into the police precinct. Time to do some digging. He’d start with the rental car agency. He’d get the make, model, and license plate number. They’d scour the city for the vehicle. He wouldn’t stop until he found her.