by Joyce
It wasn't every missing person case that she felt she could help. In fact, it was only one out of ten times that she was able to touch a jacket and find the man who'd been wearing it.
She was so sure that she could help Denise and her parents. Part of her argued that she was crazy to try. Another part of her knew she had to offer. Cerise brought her up with the belief that the gift should be shared. She was meant to help where she could. That was why God gave her that special opportunity.
She took her courage in hand and went to the police. Of course, she was met with skepticism. They questioned her as a suspect. But there was nothing to tie her to the kidnapping. Finally Denise's parents, frantic with worry and fear, begged for her help. They gave her a little pink jacket with tigers on it that belonged to Denise. Rae clutched it to her and went out to look for the girl.
* * * *
In the hospital cafeteria, Rae stared at the two jackets. She recoiled from them in amazement and terror. He couldn't know. It was only a fluke that they were the same. “You had this in mind all the time, didn't you?"
"What would you do in my place? I'd give anything to have my niece back. So far, no one has been able to help. I need to know if you can find her. I don't have any more time to waste."
Abruptly, she excused herself and went to the restroom. She splashed cold water on her face with shaky hands. When she looked up, Denise's white face was where hers should be in the mirror. She gagged at the image. The agony in her eyes was only a reflection of what she felt in her soul. She couldn't bear to touch those jackets. All of the nightmares she had down through the years flooded in on her.
"You have to do this,” she told herself. “When has Lessie ever asked you to do anything for her? She needs you. You can't fall apart now!"
Rae finally emerged from the bathroom. She was cold and shaken but determined to lay the ghosts of her past to rest. She had to face her fears to help her grandmother.
She was surprised to see Steve still waiting for her at the table. Or maybe part of me was hoping he'd be gone? She didn't stop to examine that thought too closely.
"I wondered if you were coming back."
She smiled wryly at her cowardice. “So was I."
"What happened to you on that last case, Rae? Did you lose your ability ... or your nerve?” He put a warm hand on her cold, trembling arm. “Is that why you couldn't find that child in time? Is that why you're hiding on this island?"
A flash of vision blurred her senses. The images in her mind were hazy. But there was no doubting what she saw. A man and a woman. Arms and legs entwined. A dark bedroom. A cool breeze blowing down from the mountains. She and Steve naked in his bed. Raw, animal emotions flaring through her.
She jerked her arm away from him. It's not possible. My visions don't work that way.
To cover up while her brain worked overtime, Rae tore into her bagel and used her knife to swirl the cream cheese around on it. “I didn't lose the ability. I chose not to use it anymore."
"Is it like that? Something you can turn on and off?"
"Didn't your computer answer these questions for you?"
"My computer told me that you left college right after the first time you tried to help find a lost child. There was lots of bad publicity and stupid questions. You didn't go back. You worked successfully for the FBI for seven years. Ten commendations. You lost a few partners and messed up a few cases. Your last case, you attacked the father of the child you found dead. The FBI retired you with no severance and no chance of reinstatement. In return, there were no charges filed against you."
"But I still found more children and caught more of the bad guys than any other agent. And that's why you're here."
"That's why I'm here. You're right. But I need to know that you still have that ability that made it all work for you. I don't understand it. But I know it was more than just good police work. The kidnappers have me on a timetable. I only have four days left to find my niece.” He put the two jackets down on the table in front of her. “Can you tell me something about her?"
Rae sipped her tea. She shredded what was left of her bagel and stared at the abused tabletop. Anywhere except at the two jackets.
Both were identical. She knew that from her first glance. Was it possible that he knew about Denise's jacket? Or was it only a coincidence? He knew about the case from his research. Was he hoping to throw her off with it? She had to know the truth. “I have a question I need to ask you first."
"What?"
"What made you decide to find me?"
"It sounds strange. I was listening to NPR while I waited to hear some word about my niece. They were talking about various kidnapping cases that had been solved by the FBI. Your name came up. I knew that I had to find you. I knew you were the one who could help me."
Rae believed him. The same thing had happened to her before. A name or a picture brought an answer. Anything else might have been a lie.
It would only take touching the jackets to know for sure. If one of them belonged to his niece, Rae would know. At least she hoped she'd know.
It had been two years, three months, and four days since her last drink. Her last clear vision had been before that. Her grandmother blamed the loss of sight on her drinking. Rae avoided thinking about it. She was careful not to touch people she didn't know. Certainly, no one challenged her on it. But what if she had lost the gift?
"You haven't used it in the two years since you got back here, have you?” His voice was as quiet as the breaking dawn around them.
"I didn't expect to ever use it again."
"We're all surprised by what we'll do for a loved one."
With a terrified reluctance, Rae picked up both jackets. She took one in each hand and closed her eyes on Steve Williams’ shrewd face. He sees too much about you. She took a deep breath, tried to clear her mind. He was only guessing. No one in the FBI knew she had the sight. The only one she ever shared that knowledge with, outside her family, was John.
John Matthews had been her recruiter and later, her partner. He cautioned her about telling anyone else the truth. He recognized her gift right away. He was deftly persuasive. Rae didn't want to go home in defeat after the Little kidnapping. She agreed to join the agency and left school. She went through the basic FBI training courses. John Matthews became her mentor ... and in time, her lover.
Profiling was an accepted fact in criminal psychology. But the FBI frowned on any relationship it bore to psychic research. Mumbo-jumbo, the Bureau cordially referred to it. It gave John and Rae an added benefit in looking for the kidnapers and their victims. John was psychic, too. Not as strongly as Rae. But between them, they were a formidable force.
In an instant, Rae got an impression from both jackets. She was relieved, then immediately uncertain. At one time, she wouldn't have hesitated to give her opinion. So many things had changed her. So much had happened. And her grandmother's life depended on her being right. For the first time, she was scared of her gift being wrong.
She opened her eyes to find Steve regarding her intently from across the tiny table. He looked exhausted. His eyes were deep and darkly shaded. His mouth was tight. Instinct told her that he was a man who was at the end of his resources. Trained observation answered that he was desperate and would do anything to find his niece. A dangerous combination.
The vision she had of the two of them together sizzled through her brain. She recalled the strange feeling that passed between them at the shop. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. She was nervous. She'd been up all night. Focus.
Rae held the jacket in her right hand out to him. “This is her jacket. Her name is Bryce. She's five years old. She wasn't wearing this jacket when she was taken.” She put the other jacket down on the table and sat back, breathing hard. She didn't look away from him or allow him to see that she was unsure of herself.
He stared at her without speaking for an instant out of time. “I'll write you a check."
She reached into her pocket
and took out her checkbook. “Have the money sent electronically to my account."
"It'll be there later this morning.” He took the check from her and put it into his pocket. “How soon can you be ready to go?"
"As soon as the money is in the bank."
"You don't trust me? It seems like you'd be the kind of person who took everyone on trust. After all, you know everything about them, don't you?"
She tossed some money out on the table. “I'm the kind of person who's seen too much to ever trust anyone or anything again. It might be a good thing to take that into account during our working arrangement."
"You don't look that hard."
"How long to Atlanta?"
"How did you—?"
"I saw you on television. Not everything I say or do is paranormal."
"Sorry. It takes about an hour to get there from here. If we leave by nine-thirty—"
"I'll be ready."
"Until later then.” He reached out his hand.
Rae looked at it like it was a snake. She didn't want to touch him again. She fumbled with her checkbook.
Steve saw her dilemma and solved it. His fingers slid around her hand before she could move away from him.
Rae was submerged in feeling. It started in her hand and flew like wild fire to her brain. She called his name and he kissed her. His lips followed the line of her throat. There was a faint scent of wood smoke. His hands cupped her breasts and his mouth...
Reeling from the vision, she left him in the cafeteria without a word. She went back to the lobby outside her grandmother's room. She closed her eyes as she rested her head against the back of the chair. There was too much energy. She hadn't seriously tried to use the sight in a long time. Her brain was short-circuiting.
She didn't expect him to test her. There were always skeptics. Of course, she couldn't find lost people or things. That was ridiculous. She had to be crazy. She belonged in an asylum. But she knew he wasn't one of them. He spent too much of his limited time searching for her. His answer to her question was too near her own heart.
Steve Williams was a man used to dealing with facts and figures. It was only out of sheer desperation that he came for her. Whoever else he was working with hit a dead end. He was out of ideas.
If she believed in omens, she would've walked away from the sight of that little pink jacket. She was terrified to think about what it meant. It was a coincidence. A horrible coincidence. It didn't mean she couldn't find Bryce. She connected with the little girl quickly. This could be a kidnapping that she could solve easily. Or it could be the one that destroys you.
Rae finally fell asleep in the chair and woke up with a stiff neck around eight that morning. She called her bank. The hundred thousand dollars was there, as promised. As much as she loved her grandmother, a part of her wished it wasn't so. She was suffocating, drained and empty. She dialed Dr. Salter's number and told him to find a surgeon for them. Then she went to the restroom.
She looked at herself in the mirror and was relieved to see her own tired, dispirited brown eyes. She was accustomed to the fact that she looked just like the other Harris women. Oval face. Too much curly brown hair. A body that tried to gain weight from magazine pictures of food.
She had her father's nose and possibly his chin. The thin blade of her nose contrasted with her mother's petite, upturned one. It seemed to be the only remnant of her forgotten father. Maybe her stubborn streak and her fierce need for independence came from him as well. Her mother never understood that part of her. It wasn't good enough for her to do things the way they'd always been done. She had to strike out on her own.
But she didn't want to strike out this time. She didn't want to leave everything behind again and start over. She didn't want Lessie to die, like her mother.
Cerise died only three weeks before the incident with her last FBI case. Lessie called her late one night. Rae was in Tennessee. It might as well have been the moon. Cerise suffered a massive heart attack. She was dead before she hit the floor.
Rae was in the middle of a case. She didn't fly home for the funeral. Her mother's loss added to the grief and the floating sea of dead faces that haunted Rae. She stopped sleeping at night. She started drinking more heavily after her mother's death. She was drunk when she found that last baby. She almost killed the man responsible.
With an effort, she pushed everything else out of her head and focused on her grandmother. The past was past. She couldn't bring back her mother. Or any of the dead children she'd been too late to save. But she'd made peace with all of them.
There was no going back on her deal with Steve. She might have sold her soul to the devil but Lessie was going to live.
It was amazing how quickly things moved when there was money to grease the way. Dr. Salter found a surgeon. His friend from Charleston stepped in and took over all of Lessie's treatment. He was going to perform the surgery later that morning. She'd be in the hospital for about two weeks; then she could go home or be transferred to a nursing home for recovery.
Rae explained to Dr. Salter that she might not be there to oversee her grandmother's recovery. She trusted him to find a nurse that could stay with her. She already knew what her answer would be to a nursing home. Then she explained that she was going home to pack a few things and ask Jean to watch the house and feed the cats.
He looked at her closely as he took her hand. “It's the money, isn't it? What are you going to have to do for it, honey?"
Rae grew up with Sam Salter as a frequent visitor to their home. He and her grandmother debated long and noisily into the night about the preferred treatment for various medical problems. She squeezed his hand to reassure him. “Nothing I haven't done before."
"Lessie won't thank me for letting you go back to that life again to save her."
"I know. Maybe you could dance around the truth a little."
He laughed briefly to keep from crying at the thought of losing his old sparring partner. “I'll try. But you know Lessie. Don't be gone so long this time. You know she'll take it out of my old hide."
"I won't. Take care of her."
"You know I will. If nothing else, just so we can keep arguing!"
"I'll be back to see her before I leave."
The house was strangely quiet and empty without Lessie there. As always, Rae could feel the disapproving eyes of all those Harris women who lived there before her. From the time she was old enough to understand, she felt them there. Sometimes, it was comforting. Sometimes, it was unnerving.
Today, it was comforting. She didn't want to leave. She hadn't been afraid for a long time. She was scared now. She wished she understood what it all meant. But it was too much to take in all at once. She was going to have to be patient. Another of my weak spots.
She fed the cats, about a dozen of them that her grandmother cared for and spoiled.
After throwing a few things into a lightweight duffle bag, she brushed her dark hair. She pulled on a warm sweater, jeans, and boots. Then she stepped out of the door into the frosty morning air. Hunching down into her wool coat, she walked quickly across the street.
Jean and her mother both wanted to talk about Lessie. They had lived across Spring Street from one another since before Cerise met Rae's father.
"How is she?” Jean's mother wore a worried expression on her tired, dark face.
"She's going to be fine. She's going to have surgery to remove the blockage. Then she'll need a lot of rest to recover. But she'll be fine."
Jean's mother cried. She thanked Rae for the information and promised to look after the house and her grandmother. She hugged her and made her promise to call.
"Where are you going?” Jean followed Rae to the porch as she left.
The morning was bustling around them. From inside the tiny house, Rae heard Jean's little girl, Sarah, call for her grandmother.
"Atlanta. I don't know how long. I put a sign up at the shop. I'm going to leave it closed while I'm gone."
"I'm sorry, Ra
e.” Jean was one of the few people who knew everything about Rae's past. “Are you going to be all right?"
"I'll be fine."
"You know what I mean.” Jean cast a knowing look at her friend.
"If you mean am I going to pick up a bottle again, no, I'm not. Lessie is going to be fine and I'll be back. Sober."
"I know you. You're messed up inside about this. You never wanted to do this work again."
"That doesn't mean I'm going to start drinking again, Jeannie. I can handle this. I owe Lessie that much."
"All right. I know you've made up your mind. But call me if you need to talk to someone. Promise?"
"I promise.” Rae smiled at her. “I have to go. I want to see Lessie again before I leave."
Jean hugged her tightly. “Good luck, honey."
Rae didn't look back at the homey porch or her friend. She turned her footsteps resolutely back towards the bus that would take her to the hospital.
Dr. Salter met her at the door to her grandmother's room. “Are you going to tell her?"
"That I'm leaving to do another job?” She was uncomfortable talking about it. “I don't have much choice, do I? She'll wonder where I am when she gets out."
"Maybe you'll be back by then."
"I know she might be upset by it—"
"She will be upset by it, Rae! You know she will. She knows what you went through last time. I don't think you should tell her."
She considered his advice as she looked at his wrinkled white jacket and his thinning white hair. His straw hat was in his hand. “All right. I won't tell her now. I'll try to be back before she gets out of the hospital. I'll call you when I know how you can reach me. If I'm not back by the time she realizes I'm gone, I'll explain then."
He looked relieved. “Thank you."
"Does Lessie know how you feel about her?"
He rocked back on his heels. “No. And I'll thank you to keep my secrets to yourself!"
Rae grinned. “I will. Your secret's safe with me."
