by Kay Hooper
“Inside her head.” Ben spoke slowly.
“She didn’t know I was there, of course. She thought we were in contact only whenever she was helping the police try to catch me. But I’ve been able to slip into her mind virtually at will for a long time now. Into her thoughts. Her dreams.”
“Her nightmares.” Until that moment Ben had never been able to truly see the substance, the reality, of Cassie’s monsters. But then he saw. Finally he understood. And it wasn’t the chill of the room that sank deeper into his bones and left shards of ice so cold they burned.
Dear God, Cassie…
The monster calling himself Bob continued to smile. “Her nightmares? Oh, I don’t think so. All I did was… encourage her… to use her natural gifts. Remind her who she really was. That’s why I followed her here. She thought she could run away from who she was, but I couldn’t let her. We were meant to be together, Cassie and I, and I had to show her that. I had to show her that our minds were already joined.”
“By killing more women?”
“By making certain she used her natural gifts.”
Ben swallowed the bile rising up in his throat and forced himself to say calmly, “So you came here and looked for a tool you could use to attract her attention. To impress her with your own abilities. You needed someone with a weak mind you could control, someone with the instincts—if not the expertise—of a natural killer. Mike Shaw.”
“You must admit, Michael was perfect. And I was quite lucky to find him in this pissant little town of yours. A sociopath more than ready for his first real kill. All he needed was a little guidance, and that was simple enough.”
“How did it feel,” Ben asked, “to kill by remote control?”
Bob seemed gratified by the question, clearly happy to explain. “Interesting, actually. And more satisfying than I had expected. He’s totally primitive, of course, driven by rage and imagined slights, and with absolutely no finesse. I’m sure your experts will find he’s clinically insane. Not too bright either, I’m afraid. But he made excellent clay I could mold to fit my needs.”
“And your need was to impress Cassie.”
“I wanted her to understand,” Bob said reasonably. “That we were two halves of a whole, that we belonged together. I knew that from the first time she touched my mind. But she didn’t seem to understand the glory of the kill, and how… liberating it is. So I had to show her.”
“Then why use a tool?” Ben asked. If he could keep him talking, let him reveal more and more of himself, then maybe, just maybe a weakness would become apparent. Something Ben could work on, as he worked on witnesses in a courtroom to get what he needed from them.
“Why, to show Cassie how powerful I am, of course.” Bob was thoughtful. “And I am, you know. Quite powerful. I had to maintain the connection with Michael most of the time in order to keep him under control, while also hiding my presence from Cassie.”
“How were you able to do that?”
“The connection to Michael was simple to establish, and not terribly difficult to maintain. He just needed to be in constant physical contact with an item that belonged to me. As for hiding my presence from Cassie, I’d been practicing that for nearly three years.”
“Why hide from her at all? I mean, if you were intent on impressing her, why not reveal yourself from the first?”
“To surprise her, of course.” Bob’s smile faded at last, and his ordinary-colored eyes took on an odd shine. “That was before I realized you were going to confuse her.”
“Is that what I did?”
“We both know it is. She was completely untouched, innocent, and you ruined that. You preyed on her weak female body to scramble her instincts and senses, used your experience to teach her a passion of the flesh.” For just an instant he seemed faintly distracted, as though hearing a distant sound, but then he shook his head. “You corrupted her.”
“Then I’m surprised you still want her.”
“I’ll have to purify her, naturally. She can never return to her untouched state, but she can be made more worthy of my love.”
Ben wasn’t about to ask how. Instead, he said coolly, “Well, I didn’t butcher other women for her, but I’m willing to bet Cassie prefers my ideas of romance to yours.”
“You confused her. She was completely focused on me and what I could do when she was in California, and she would have regained that focus. If not for you.” His smile was thin and particularly unpleasant. “You told her you loved her, didn’t you, Judge?”
“Don’t you know?” Ben taunted softly. “Weren’t you in her mind when I was in her bed?”
The odd shine in those ordinary eyes intensified, but a fragment of Bob’s smile remained. “You know, I sat in court one day and watched you, Judge. You’re very good. Quite skilled at… going for the jugular. But there’s something you’ve forgotten, I’m afraid.”
“Oh? And what’s that, Bob?”
Bob reached over to flip back a corner of the white cloth on the cart beside him, revealing a varied selection of implements that had only one thing in common. They were all very, very sharp. He picked up what looked like a scalpel and tested the edge with his thumb, then smiled at Ben.
“When I go for the jugular, I use a real knife.”
Matt hung up the phone and turned to Cassie. “You were right about the damned boots. They practically had to cut them off Shaw, but Vasek had scrawled his name inside sure enough. How the hell—?”
“They were always too tight,” Cassie murmured from her position near the fireplace, where she stood, petting Max. She couldn’t sit still any longer, and for the past few minutes had been restlessly prowling the room.
Matt was baffled. “Why did Vasek have him wear his boots?”
“Connections. Vasek is an amazingly strong telepath, but what he was trying to do was incredible. To control another mind like that, even a sick and broken one… He needed something of his always touching Shaw, so the connection would be almost automatic. According to what the L.A. police found out about him, he’s quite a bit smaller than Shaw, so none of his clothing would fit, but a physical oddity is that he has large hands and feet. Shaw could wear his boots, even though they were a bit too tight. It worked quite well.”
Matt shook his head. “One of my deputies is bringing them out here. What makes you think you’ll be able to connect with Vasek using the boots when the flower didn’t even get you close?”
“Because he’s been using them as a conduit.” Cassie drew a deep breath, trying to keep herself calm and centered, trying to save her energy. “I don’t know if it’ll work, Matt. But I have to try.”
Matt didn’t ask if she’d tried to contact Ben telepathically. He knew she had, and had failed, and her desolation had been so painful to see that he had turned away.
He looked at the FBI agent and said, “What I can’t understand is this. If he did all this to impress Cassie, then how does grabbing Ben and suddenly going silent figure into his plans? Is it because we caught Mike? Because his tool isn’t available any longer?”
Bishop’s gaze was on Cassie. “He grabbed Ryan out of pure jealousy, I’d say. It’s been fairly obvious in the last few days that Cassie’s in love with him, and that he had elected himself her protector.”
She flinched but said nothing.
Matt asked bluntly, “Then why not just kill Ben outright? Why take him alive?”
Even with a face as unexpressive as granite, it was still obvious that Bishop didn’t want to answer that question. But finally, softly, he did. “Because he wants to play with him for a while. To appease his jealousy and to punish Cassie.”
Cassie made a smothered little sound, then said, “I’m going to shut Max up in the kitchen before the deputy gets here,” and hurriedly led the dog from the room.
“Next time,” Matt said grimly to Bishop, “just tell me it’s a dumb question, all right?”
“All right. Any luck with those tire tracks?”
“I’ve go
t people combing both sides of that road trying to pick them up again. With so much sleet and mud, we’ve at least got a shot.” He fell silent for several minutes, then said, “Do you think Ben’s still alive?”
“Yes.”
Matt looked at him curiously. “Why?”
“Because a cat likes to torment its prey before it kills it.”
“I’m sorry I asked.”
Bishop shook his head. “It won’t be physical torture, not at first. From what I know of Vasek, he’ll want to talk, brag about what he was able to do, probably try to show himself off as a better match for Cassie. Plus, it should throw him off stride to have a male victim. Ryan can work that to his advantage if he’s smart enough to use it.”
Matt hoped his friend was smart enough.
When Cassie came back into the living room a few minutes later, she was calm again. And if the two men noticed that her eyes were red-rimmed, neither commented.
“Where’s that deputy?” she demanded of Matt.
“Another five minutes, Cassie. Be patient.”
“I can’t be patient.”
“Try. And when the boots are here, assuming they work for you, what do you mean to do? If Vasek is as strong as you claim, how the hell can you get into his mind without his knowing?”
“I will, that’s all.” Her voice was flat. “I just will.”
Matt might have continued to object, but the phone rang just then and he went quickly to answer it. “I told everybody to shut off the walkie-talkies. The damn things can be heard for miles,” he muttered in an explanation nobody asked for.
He said hello, then “yeah” a couple of times. Cassie watched him and without even trying caught a few flashes of a narrow dirt road and an old house in the distance. A knock on the door distracted her, and by the time Bishop answered it and brought one of Matt’s deputies into the living room, the sheriff was hanging up the phone.
“They’ve found the place,” she said to Matt.
“Maybe.” He was more grim than hopeful. “The tire tracks match, and they lead to what’s supposed to be a deserted house. It would help if we could have verification.”
Cassie took the pair of gleaming snakeskin boots from the young deputy, who looked bewildered but gave them up without a protest.
Matt said to him, “Stand there in the doorway and keep your mouth shut, Danny.”
“Yes, sir.”
Cassie sat down on the sofa, holding the boots in her hands and staring at them.
Remembering what Ben usually did, Matt asked, “Will you need a lifeline?”
“Not for this. I just want to see if I can…” She closed her eyes and after a moment murmured, “I can get in. There’s one part of his mind he’s not guarding, the part that used to be connected to Mike Shaw. It isn’t a large doorway, but it’s there. And it’s big enough.”
“Can you tell me where he is, what he’s doing?” Matt asked.
She frowned slightly, then started and opened her eyes. “He almost caught me. He’s quick. Very quick.” She chewed on her bottom lip as she set the boots on the coffee table. Her voice was steady when she said, “I wasn’t deep enough to see through his eyes. But for an instant he thought about where he was, and I saw the same house I saw in your mind, Matt.”
“I was afraid of that. The house is very isolated, Cassie, practically out in the middle of a field,” the sheriff said. “No cover at all.” His brooding gaze shifted to Bishop. “If Vasek sees us coming, he could hold us off indefinitely. With Ben as his hostage. And if he’s armed—”
“He usually is,” Bishop said.
“Shit. I just don’t see how we can catch him by surprise. If we go in in force, he’ll easily see us coming, and have plenty of time to—”
Cassie lifted a hand to cut him off, unwilling to hear possibilities. She got to her feet and went to stand by the fireplace, already feeling cold. “He won’t see you coming. I’ll distract him.”
“How?” Bishop demanded.
She looked at the agent. “I’ll give him something else to think about. Me.”
“So,” Ben said, “your only way of dealing with a rival is to cut his throat, huh?”
“Not my only way. Just the best way. You have to be out of Cassie’s life.”
“And then she’ll tumble into your arms? I don’t think so.”
“She will come to me quite willingly, Judge,” the madman said. “Once I take care of you. Once she learns the lesson.”
“The lesson being?”
“That she belongs to me. That I will not tolerate anyone else in her life. Not a lover, certainly. And if, once you’re gone, she still fails to understand and I have to kill two or three of the people she considers friends, well, I’m sure that will get the point across.” His smile widened. “Don’t you agree?”
TWENTY-ONE
“You can’t,” Bishop said.
“I know you’d like to believe that, but—”
Bishop stepped toward her and grabbed her wrist to stop her when she would have turned away. “That isn’t what I mean,” he said roughly.
Matt saw Cassie go still, saw her stare up at the agent with surprise and something else, something he couldn’t define, the emotion flitting across her delicate face like a shadow. Then Bishop was speaking again, an edge to his voice, and the moment passed.
“If you touch his mind openly, go through that narrow doorway he used with Shaw, the connection is his as well as yours. He can hold on to it. Pull you even deeper. Close off the way behind you. And what happens if the cops shoot him—kill him? We both know that’s what’s likely to happen, because Vasek won’t let himself be taken alive. He’ll make damned sure they have to kill him. And he won’t let go of you. You’ll be in too deep, Cassie.”
Matt said, “Too deep? You mean she won’t be able to get out? Even if he dies?”
Bishop released Cassie’s wrist. “He could hang on even while he dies. And pull her with him.”
“You don’t know that.” Cassie massaged her wrist absently, not looking at either of the men. “At best, it’s all theoretical. Besides, I’m strong enough to pull away.”
“You don’t know that,” Bishop retorted. “This man, this monster, is obsessed with you, Cassie. He followed you across three thousand miles, and when he found you, he methodically destroyed what was left of Mike Shaw’s mind so he’d have a tool he could use to get your attention without exposing himself. He designed all of this, set up the situation to involve you, impress you with his cunning. Do you really think if you drop your guards and expose yourself, walk willingly into his mind, that he’ll ever let go of you?”
“I’m strong enough,” she repeated steadily.
“I don’t think so.”
She glanced up at him, then turned her head and gazed at the sheriff. “One thing we can all be sure of. Unless we stop Vasek, he’ll kill Ben. And then he’ll go on killing. More women, Matt. Maybe here, in your town. More people you know and care about. This is the best chance we’ll have to get to him. You know it is.”
Matt was a cop and he saw the logic. But the idea of allowing Cassie to sacrifice herself stuck in his craw. “Can’t you just tease him somehow? Get his attention just long enough to let me and my people get close? It would take only a couple of minutes, five at most. Can you do that without giving him a chance to pull you in?”
“Of course I can.”
“She can’t,” Bishop said. “It’s all or nothing, Dunbar. To pull this guy’s focus, she’ll have to expose herself, walk in and show herself to him. And you can bet he’ll grab and hold on tight. If she’s inside the bastard’s head and you have to kill him, she dies.” Bishop smiled thinly. “But you’ll save your friend. Maybe it’s a price you’re willing to pay.”
The sheriff took a step toward the agent, but Cassie’s voice fell between them, curiously soft. “Bishop, if you say one more word, I promise you’ll regret it.” Her gaze fixed on Matt’s face, and she smiled. “You don’t have to worry, Mat
t. I’ll be just fine. No danger at all, remember that. Will you remember?”
Matt looked at her, frowning for only an instant as though troubled by something too wispy to get hold of. Then he smiled back at her. “I’ll remember. No danger. You’ll be fine.”
“Yes, I’ll be fine. The important thing is to surprise Vasek so you can save Ben.” Her voice remained gentle. “So you get your people into position, and when you are, call and let me know. Then give me exactly five minutes before you make your move. All right?”
“All right, Cassie. I’ll leave Danny here with my cell phone, and he’ll be able to report when we’re ready.”
Bishop didn’t say a word.
Matt said, “It’ll probably take us fifteen minutes to get there and into position, Cassie. But I’ll let you know. And I promise—I’ll get Ben out of there alive.”
“Of course you will.” She said it as if there were simply no other possibility.
The sheriff nodded decisively and left the room after giving his phone to the young and puzzled deputy who remained uncertainly in the doorway.
Bishop reached for a chair and shoved it behind her. “Here—sit down before you fall down.”
She did, wondering if she looked as bad as she felt. Surely not.
“Taking quite a risk, using up precious energy in order to ease the mind of the good sheriff.” Bishop’s voice was not quite mocking. “Does Ryan know you can do that, by the way?”
Cassie drew a deep breath. “I didn’t know I could do that.”
“Dunbar won’t be happy when he realizes you tricked him.”
“No, I imagine not. But he won’t realize just yet. Not just yet. And by the time he does, it won’t matter.” She was so tired already, strained with terror and her worry for Ben. And there was so much left to do.
Bishop leaned his shoulders back against the mantel, his arms crossed over his chest, face expressionless as always. But the scar looked whitened and angry.
Cassie wondered if he knew that mark was a barometer of his emotions.
“This is an asinine scheme,” he said as if it hardly mattered.
