Darlings of Paranormal Romance (Anthology) (89 page)

"Hey Dillon. What's up?" Brandt
barely withheld his grin at Dillon's suit of the day. This was the
classic pinstripe with a matching tie in reverse stripes. But it
was in forest green, black, and white. Mafia anyone?

"I'm just checking that you still
need information on this?" He held up the sketch of the ring. "I
missed whatever you said at this morning's meeting." Dillon raised
an eyebrow in question.

"I'm looking for the owner. If I can
trace it to a store, sorority, or something like that, I might be
able to figure out who bought it."

Dillon stared at the sheet, frowning.
"It's a simple enough design. But I don't think I've seen one like
it." He turned the page slightly. "Is one of the stones
missing?"

"Yeah, the last time it was seen, one
stone appeared to be missing. The others are clear – diamond or
zirconium, maybe."

"Gold, white, brass – do we
know?"

"No. Gold in color is all I
have."

"Shouldn't be too hard to track down.
Have you talked to the jewelry stores here?"

Brandt walked around his desk to
stand at Dillon's side, giving the sketch another glance. "I talked
to several so far, I've faxed it to several more. So far, the same
thing. Not in stock anywhere and no one remembers one quite like
this in the last decade or so." Brandt considered the pattern. "It
could be a custom job. I'll have to contact the local designers and
see."

Behind him, Dillon asked. "Have you
checked online?"

"Yes and no. I have a couple of
people working on it."

Dillon nodded. "Okay, I'll keep an
ear out and let you know if I find anything." He turned and walked
toward the doorway. He stopped and turned around. "Oh yeah, while I
have the chance, I also wanted to ask if the rumors were
true?"

"What rumors?"

The younger man grinned, a perfect
toothy smile. Some serious money went into that look. "That you've
brought in a psychic on this case."

Brandt refused to let irritation
show. "Love rumors, don't you?"

Dillon smirked. "Yeah. The grapevine
here is rampant."

Brandt frowned at him, hoping to
quell his interest. "Well, you can't believe everything you
hear."

"True." Dillon turned, as if to
finally leave again. "Let me know if you need any help with
anything."

"I'll be fine, but thanks for the
offer." He motioned Dillon to precede him out of the office. "Time
to head out." Brandt checked his watch. He was running
late.

Chapter 10

10:45 am

Sam
found it hard not to worry while
she worked with the animals. It's not as if she lacked for topics.
After last night's vision, she was now worried
about
not
telling
the police. Her instinct reaction had been
no way
. Not after yesterday. Today in
the light of day, she knew she needed to tell
Brandt.

The worry about what information the
police had dug up on her, nagged at her. What if Detective
Sutherland contacted that deputy from Nikola County? There was a
lot of ancient history there and none of it looked good for her.
Chances of the detective believing her story over that rogue
deputy's version were nonexistent. She already knew that law
enforcement protected their own. What were the chances the deputy
had forgotten her? Not great.

"Sam, can you give me a hand?" The
voice called through the swinging double doors.

Sam quickly closed the door to the
rabbit cage she'd been cleaning and headed for surgery room
one.

She pushed open the door. "Jesus."
She jumped forward to help. "You could have called me earlier." She
reached out to support the large, sleeping Newfoundland dog that
was in danger of sliding off the small table. "Time to get a larger
table?"

The other two women laughed. "Careful
with the front legs. He's got stitches across the ribs on that
side." The three women carefully maneuvered the large animal onto a
second table. Then waited to receive him and then move him into an
even larger cage.

Once inside, the dog's wounds were
checked, his tubes adjusted for the cage walls and the door closed.
Sam stepped over to look at the injured animal. He had to be a
hundred and fifty pounds. "What happened to him?"

Dr. Valerie Brown, the older of the
two, smiled and said, "You don't need to whisper, he's not going to
wake up."

Sam's lip twitched. "I know. He's
beautiful."

The other woman, Dr. Brenda Torrance,
stripped off her gloves. "Yup, he's gorgeous alright, only he needs
to stop arguing with cars."

Sam sent a sharp question her way.
"What, another car accident?" She glanced at the sleeping animal.
"How horrible."

"We'll move him to the back room
after he wakes up from his anaesthesia."

Sam narrowed her gaze. Funny lights
played over the surface of the dog's thick fur coat. Weird. Shivers
raised goose bumps on Sam's skin. A vision reached into her brain
and took over her sight. The dog was hurt worse than the minor
repair held together by the stitches. Images crowded her – the dog
up in the air, tumbling before hitting his left hip on a fire
hydrant.

"Did he get the cut from the car or
from the landing?" She focused on the animal's body, searching for
any clues as to what else could be wrong.

"The front grill of the truck ripped
a strip of hide off him. Why?" Valerie asked.

Sam gazed at her vaguely. "What? Oh,
his left hip doesn't look right. But I'm sure you took x-rays, so
that hip must be just bruised and not broken."

Deliberately, Sam left, as if to
return to the cages to finish her job. In the other room, she
stopped outside the door and listened.

Behind her was a weighty
silence.

"What was that all about?"

"Damned if I know. Were x-rays
done?"

A rustle of papers. "No, the owners
brought him in for stitches. They saw the accident. They didn't
want to go through the expense of x-rays, if not required. A
check-up was done before we came on for the day." More papers were
shuffled. "What do you think, should we do x-rays?"

"I hate taking over cases already in
progress. I was told this animal just needed stitches.
Shit."

Silence except for a brush of
clothing and soft muttering. Sam could only hope they were checking
the dog's hip a little more closely. Nodding encouragement that
they couldn't see, Sam followed their actions with one ear to the
door.

"Damn. We need to x-ray his hips.
Let's call the owners."

"She's right?"

"I don't know, but there's something
wrong. Who did the intake on this animal?"

"I'll have to check the paperwork
when we're done."

Sam grinned. She whispered to the
empty room. "There you go boy. Now you'll be fine." She listened
for another moment before heading to finish her work.

It wasn't until later that she
realized this was her first vision around an animal. Sam had
actually seen the energy over the injured part of the body. The
goose bumps had been the first inkling of something wrong. Her
heart positively lifted with joy. To be able to do something for
animals would be wonderful. Now, if she could learn to control it
so she could use it at will. More questions for Stefan.

"Sam, can you run and do a pickup for
us?"

Sam spun around, her hand rushing to
her chest.

"Sorry." Valerie reached out an
apologetic hand. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Sam blew out a noisy breath, letting
her hand drop down.. "I must have been miles away."

"It's these shoes. They should be
sleuth shoes." Valerie lifted her practical working shoes to peer
at the soles.

Sam waited until she had Valerie's
attention. "What do you need?"

"I need you to run over to where
Lucy's daughter works and pick up an injured cat. If you don't
mind. It's about fifteen minutes from here." Valerie checked her
notes briefly. "You were right, by the way, the dog's hip was
dislocated and the ligaments and muscles are badly
torn."

"Oh, how sad. I'm glad you could fix
him." How could she refuse to go get the cat? Her shift wasn't over
for at least an hour. Besides, they were doing right by the
dog.

"Of course, we'll pay for your time
and your gas."

Sam brushed her hand in the air.
"It's no problem. I'm almost done here. Give me directions. I'll
just wash up and get ready."

"Great. I really appreciate it. We've
been so busy that I haven't taken the time to say how much I
appreciate your efforts here. Thanks." With a grateful smile,
Valerie headed to the office.

Sam stared, bemused, at the flapping
doors. It's a good thing she'd left. Sam didn't have any response
to give. She couldn't remember the last time she'd received a
compliment like that.

It was kind of nice.

11:00 am

It had been a busy morning already.
And still Bill wasn't quite done. He shuffled the contents in the
bed of his truck. He'd promised to bring the dogs over to the
palliative care center. Those patients loved seeing the animals. It
was the least he could do for those dying folks. It was either make
their last days a little sweeter or knock 'em off early.

He grinned. It would be so easy.
Only, it wouldn't mean the same thing for him. It wasn't just
getting his rocks off – well that was a huge part of it – but he
needed certain things in order to get there. It used to be easy.
Now everything had to go exactly right or he couldn't enjoy
himself.

Starting with the victim – just
anyone wouldn't do. The right victim was everything to him. He was
a selection specialist. And he'd made a mistake last time. Not on
the girl, but on the method. He'd tested a new drug on her. Bad
decision. She'd reacted terribly, slipping into unconsciousness
before he could really enjoy her. He'd left – beyond pissed. Now,
he'd need a fix again…and soon because of that.

He'd expected to hear about her on
the news, but so far nothing. Stupid cops, they'd probably written
her off as a suicide. He grinned. That worked for him. Fooling the
cops kept things challenging. Over the years he'd even wondered
what drove him, but had come to the conclusion that it didn't
matter, as he was past the point of stopping. He refused to dwell
on it.

He also didn't like the mask thing.
The bloody wool itched. He preferred to stay anonymous. Not take
any chances. When he'd first started, he hadn't taken the same
care. During the first couple of rapes, he'd sweated with the
droplets falling onto the women's skin. Early on, he'd tried using
alcohol on one woman's skin to remove any sweat or saliva and had
quickly discarded that. He'd ended up with a bloody mess. If being
uncomfortable was the price then that was fine with him. The gloves
also didn't thrill him because he wanted the skin-to-skin contact.
Every once in a while, he still succumbed to the temptation, but
was always careful to put them on immediately afterwards. Why the
hell it mattered at that point, he didn't know, except he'd been
doing it that way for so long logic couldn't even begin to win over
superstition. What worked, worked and that was all there was to
it.

A shrink would have a heyday with
him. Yeah, he was paranoid. Still, he was in this for the long haul
and didn't plan to screw up anytime soon.

11:10 am

Brandt pulled into the parking lot at
the Willow Health Center. He parked at the front and walked inside.
The offices were off to the right. He headed there
first.

"Hi, Nancy."

The tiny older woman looked up in
surprise. Then a big smile broke out. "Detective Sutherland. Thank
you so much for coming."

He shook his head. "She's my problem,
not yours."

Nancy grinned. "Except that while
she's here, she's also our problem."

There was no arguing that logic.
"I'll walk down and have a talk with her before she goes for
lunch."

"Good. She might be in her room, or
she could be over with the animals today. I'll be there in a couple
of minutes."

"Oh, right. It's pet day, isn't it?"
The center had a well-loved program where family members were
allowed to bring pets in to see the various residents for an hour
to two. Sometimes, special dogs and cats came in to keep the people
company or put on small shows. The older people loved it. It was a
highlight for them.

Brandt walked down to his mother's
room.

"Mom?" He knocked gently.

"Come in."

Brandt pushed the door open to find
several other people in there. A hushed silence descended when they
recognized their visitor.

He heaved a sigh. "Yes, the cops have
been called. Mom, what the hell are you up to now?"