by Renee Joiner
If she had to be honest, she wasn’t sure. But that is not what she chose to tell him. “I’ll try,” she said, smiling at him. She reprimanded herself after he smiled at her in return, placing a different emotion behind his own expression—one she hoped she was misinterpreting.
She stared at the items again. Her eye was drawn to the pile of victim three. In the middle was a ring. “That’s a family stone,” she remarked.
Daniel looked at where she was pointing. “I guess. She was never married, though. Her background profile tells us that she had no surviving relatives save for those in her own generation.”
“It doesn’t matter. However, if what you say is true, then the person who the ring belonged to may have already passed. There would be no interference in readings then. Whatever predictions I glean from it would be tied to this woman alone.” Tasia looked at a picture of the woman in question. She was a spunky red-head, with a firestorm of curls framing a lightly freckled face. She picked up the stone, closing her eyes to focus.
After a while, Daniel prodded for a result. “Anything?”
“No. It’s undeniably hers. I get the impression of a young spirit connected to the item. But, no premonitions of death.”
“Damn. Must say, I’m not used to that kind of feedback in my line of work,” he said, looking slightly uncomfortable as he rubbed the back of his head.
“Welcome to my world, Mr. Cordeiro.” She caught herself again, deeming her own statements too familiar. That was too playful. She would never create enough distance between them at this rate. “Well, let me try another....”
And she did. Several minutes passed, and few, if any, of the items offered her a decent reading. At the most, she got faint glimmers that weren’t really telling of anything. If she were to make any deductions, the faint image or smell, she gleaned from the items could only point at the kidnapper’s murderous attempt. Still, it was no guarantee that anyone was about to die. She groaned after even attempting a read on some of the photos, without any success. Either there really was no danger—which ironically didn’t bring them closer to avert it once it should arise—or the items weren’t nearly as personal to the owners as they’d thought.
“Please, tell me that you got something,” Daniel nudged.
She was leaning over the table, sighing deeply as she raised her head in preparation to answer. Still, at that moment, another item caught her eye. It was so inconspicuous and basic that she would have never thought of trying to get a read from it. She glimpsed upward and saw a photo of a beautiful woman with dark hair hanging past her shoulders. Her eyes returned to the item, her hand already hovering over it while hesitant for the outcome. She took a deep breath before her fingers closed over the handle of the hairbrush.
The world around her melted away and she was standing in the middle of a field bathed in amber light. Her shadow fell in front of her, and as she turned around, she saw the sunset in the distance. Grass stalks swayed in the late afternoon breeze, and her own silver hair flitted across her face in its breath. She marveled at the vividness, having never experienced it quite so tangibly. It gave her a glimpse into the secret life of a stranger—a life that she inexplicably envied, even though she didn’t have a reason besides the feeling itself.
Something stood to her left. It was an old, blue Chevy pick-up truck. Golden light reflected from its windows. It looked almost otherworld while standing alone in the haze of that balmy afternoon. Something about it had an irresistible pull, and curiosity compelled her forward.
Shifting angle, she finally saw the interior as she approached. It looked empty, but she couldn’t resist the temptation to look. For a moment, she almost forgot that the entire sequence of imagery wasn’t real, merely foresight. It became easier to slip into that reality the longer she looked while a fan of dark hair was tossed back. She stood close enough to notice the rhythmic rise and fall of bodies passionately intertwined in the back seat.
“Tasia! Tasia!”
The distant shout suddenly seemed close, and she fell right back into the present moment. She felt hot, and her clothes too tight as she settled her mind back in the FBI office.
“You’re back. It worked... you saw something, didn’t you?” he asked, folding his arms in front of him as he nervously awaited her answer.
“Oh yeah...” she blurted out, almost laughing.
“What? Was it a death vision? Are they in danger?”
“Daniel, I don’t exactly know what sense to make out of what I just saw...”
“So, I managed to get a hold of one of Robin’s friends.”
“Robin?”
“The woman whom the brush belonged to. I embellished my question a bit but asked the friend about a photo that we’re using in the investigation, one with the field and the truck you described from your vision.”
“You lied to her?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Not really. I mean, I said we’d looked at a ‘snapshot’ of the place. Isn’t that what a vision is in essence?”
She opened her mouth to respond but found only the absence of a reply. He had a point, she had to admit. “So, what did she say? I have a hunch we’re going there, aren’t we?”
He gave a playful smirk. “You’re getting to understand me better and better. It’s odd what a little time together does for our dynamic.”
Yeah, that’s what worries me, she thought to herself.
“The field is on a ranch just outside of town, and the truck you saw belonged to her boyfriend. Apparently, they used to sneak out and then onto the property. It was far enough from the prying eyes of their parents—who never approved of the relationship—and just out of sight of the ranch owners to never be discovered. C’mon. We’re going to check it out.” He started walking, and she tottered after him to keep up.
“You said ‘belonged,’ as in...?”
“Well, he doesn’t own it anymore. That and he’s dead. It was kind of odd listening to it, really. I never sympathize with my leads. But, this guy died in the Middle East while in service. I know what it’s like... losing someone like that. This guy, Matt, was the brother of Robin’s friend. She was close to tears over the phone.”
“My condolences. It must have been... really hard. I cannot even begin to imagine.” They reached the car.
He was lost in thought for the first leg of the journey, but eventually, he regained a semblance of focus. “From what you’ve told me, your death premonitions tend to be a lot more visceral and violent. You didn’t see anything out of the ordinary?”
“Well, not something bad or anything that left me jarred. Nothing about the case.”
“So, you did see something. What was it?” he looked her way, and she knew he noticed something in her face that caused him to frown. “Hey, um, why are you blushing?”
“It’s nothing, really. Something was happening in the truck that caught me off guard, that’s all.”
“Like what?”
“There were people inside.”
“Was one of them doing something the other?” he asked, confused.
“Um, you could say that.” She was deliberate in her attempts not to elaborate. Still, Daniel was proving to be more persistent than she had imagined possible. The trend the conversation could take was too intimate for her liking, and she was dead-set on avoiding it in the knowledge that he was still under her spell.
“Was it anything bad?”
“Nope,” she answered, biting her lip. She expected another question, but he had gone silent. Looking over, she saw his brow furrowed as he was trying to figure out what she was telling him—or rather, what she was omitting from the story. Then, his eyes widened, and a smile crept over his features, signaling to her that he was in the know.
“Tasia, did you see them having sex?”
“I never said that...”
“You didn’t deny it either,” he teased.
“I don’t see how this helps the investigation.”
“Ha, I do! It proves th
at the friend was telling the truth and that Robin and her boyfriend snuck away to be alone together. It also tells me we’re heading to the right place.” He was amused that she could tell. “I didn’t know a bit of passion could get such a reaction out of you. Huh... if I’d have known...”
She knew she shouldn’t have asked the moment that she did, but she couldn’t help herself. “What? If you had known, then what?”
He shrugged, “Dunno, might have tried a bit harder to woo you back then when we dated. Better late than never...”
What was that supposed to mean? Tasia felt her chest draw tight at his words. The edge of passion was so very precarious, yet he had reached it in a matter of hours. He couldn’t get distracted now. They were on the verge of another lead and closer to finding his sister.
“I hope we find something at this place,” he said, changing the course of his thoughts.
Tasia felt only marginally relieved. Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she focused on the task at hand. “It’s the clearest vision that I’ve had so far, so I share your feelings on that. But, I still find it out of place. Some elements didn’t make sense. Daniel, it wasn’t exactly what death precogs usually feel like.”
“Feel like, huh?” he teased again.
“Stop it.”
He chuckled, but his eyes were hard set in front of him. “Yeah, well. It’s all we’ve got.” He sounded forlorn, and, despite her best efforts, Tasia wasn’t sure how she was supposed to keep her distance from him.
The field lay stretched out in front of them, its grass a verdant green as it touched the horizon. It was precisely as Tasia had envisioned: serene, eerily beautiful, and completely isolated. Sadly, therein lay the problem. They had perhaps hoped to find something dark and twisted in that unspoiled place in their own minds, considering that it was part of her vision. They didn’t.
The only sign of civilization was fence posts hammered in at the boundaries adjacent to the roadside. From there, a low rise hid their view from the field proper. Scaling it, they had hoped to find an outpost, blockhouse, or any kind of dwelling dotting the open plain, but there was nothing. Even though the land was under the ranch owner’s conservatorship, he certainly didn’t seem to be making use of it.
“Fuck,” Daniel spat out in frustration.
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling responsible.
Daniel swung around, “This skill of yours is starting to really irritate me. Why would you have a vision of this place if you end up finding nothing?”
“I don’t know. Daniel, remember, I don’t control—”
“Your death premonition led us nowhere!” He was lashing out and getting angry again.
“I told you that I wasn’t sure it’s what it was!”
“You said before that your powers are not retroactive. You cannot pick up memories. Then why did you pick up this one?”
“If I had the answers, I would give them to you?”
“Give me something! Why would you have a vision like that?”
“I—Urgh. Maybe... I don’t know. Perhaps it was a memory that comforted her. Maybe it caused interference in the premonition because she started thinking about this place when she felt in danger.” During the last few minutes, she pieced that possibility together, remembering an old teaching among her kind. Sometimes, those who die flood the very experience of their death with a memory. It obscured the moment of death itself and could mislead rusalkas who were on their trail.
Centuries ago, in the Baltic regions, circulating myths painted rusalkas as evil omens that caused their adherents to fear their own deaths. The twisted folklore spread, and what had once been meant as a gift to bestow life where it was also being taken, was seen as an imminent doom.
Robin didn’t know about rusalkas, but premeditation of death and the psychological escapism that accompanied it could definitely have the same effect. She didn’t think it could happen. Then again, her kind didn’t use their powers nearly as much as they had done in the past. Perhaps there was a lot that they didn’t know about themselves.
“An interference? You couldn’t have told me about that sooner?”
“Listen, Daniel, until it happened, I didn’t even know it was possible.”
“Well, it’s lost us a lot of fucking time!”
“It’s not my fault! Everyone is looking for her; all of us are trying our best. There are no trails. The best we could do was follow hunches, and here we are. At least, I’m here. At least, I’m trying to help!”
“Why are you here?” he countered, standing dangerously close. “Why are you really helping me with all of this?”
Because I care about you, you idiot, she wanted to blurt out, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. As much as it hurt her, the anger he felt toward her and the situation was good. It created distance. It created focus. More importantly, it created a loophole for her to escape his bewitchment. So, she just stared at him down.
He turned around and stalked back in the direction of the car. Reminding herself that it was the best alternative, she followed, if, perhaps, heavier with emotion. They climbed back over the low rise and met the road, but just then, something caught her eye. It ultimately made her forget what she had been feeling.
If it hadn’t gleamed in the afternoon sun, she might have missed it. Yet, there, hanging almost inconspicuously over one of the fence posts was a set of dog tags. They were almost akin to the ones belonging to Daniel. Right underneath them, something had been carved into the wood—a lover’s signature. Two letters: R and M. It didn’t take her long to figure out who had left it there, nor to whom the tags belonged.
Seven
Watchdog
They were on the third day, no closer than they’d been.
Daniel was pissed at her. Tasia could see it the moment she walked back into the office to meet him for reconnaissance. If she had to be honest, she was frustrated with herself. Her powers weren’t proving as useful as she had hoped. Logic dictated that if a kidnapper had made threats of death, she would be able to pick up a multitude of visions from the victim’s personal effects. All of those would be clues that would bring them closer to finding his sister. Yet, none of them had delivered any pay-offs.
On the one hand, she deemed it to be a good thing. It meant the culprit planned on playing with his food a bit longer. However, if this was some sick game, then there was nothing precluding him from changing his mind on a whim. That would mean that any death precognition she’d have would be in vain because it would be too late.
Her premonitions offered her inconsistencies to add insult to injury that she had no means of piecing together. It bothered her all the more that morning, as she started her day trying to recall the vague details of another dream. Usually, she would have allowed the memory to evaporate over coffee and through her other morning rituals. Only this time, something about it evoked the same feelings that she tied to the premonition she had surrounding Daniel. She was just not sure how he’d take it.
“Morning,” he offered curtly as she walked up to his desk.
“Hey. Anything new to report?” she asked, folding her arms in front of her.
“Nope. Fucking zilch. But... you had something?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Alright,” he said, sounding skeptical.
She relayed the parts of her dream that she could remember. Or, rather, she relayed a well-formulated recall of the dream, having anticipated the conversation between them. She could see how his skepticism curdled into a look of accusation as she told him about an image of a white dog. Barking as it ran along what could only have been an equestrian ranch or estate. The harsher his eyes became, she tried to convince him by connecting the vision’s details when she had touched the army tags on his desk.
The moment after was met with an incredulous silence on his part. After a suspenseful number of seconds, he finally spoke. “No offense, but what the hell is the worth of having psychic abilities if the most you can see are old pick-up tru
cks and white dogs running circles around horse shit.” He was loud, and it alarmed her.
“Okay, look, can you just stop raising your voice. I’m trying—”
“What? What exactly are you trying to do? Steer me away from actual solid leads? Your information is fucking terrible!”
Tasia was fuming. With a strength that clearly surprised him, she walked around to grab him by the arm and hauled him into one of the staff rooms adjacent to where their desks stood. Once alone, she glared at him before speaking. “Listen, asshole, stop puffing yourself up at me. I fucking get it. You’re stressed, upset, and impatient. I would be, too, I guess, if I was looking for someone I care for, but that doesn’t give you an excuse to insult me or what I can do. Just to jog your memory, my visions haven’t been wrong, just unclear. Most of the places it has taken us have corresponded with your evidence, which proves there’s something to it. Are we any closer to finding your sister? No, I’m sure it doesn’t feel that way. Still, with each step, we know more than we did. That’s saying something. So, stop taking it out on me. I told you, I’m not clairvoyant. My abilities don’t work that way. I don’t control what I see. I can’t call it on a whim. It merely comes to me. So, just put your dick back in your pants and take any help you can get. Alright?”
That shut him down, she thought as she looked at him. He didn’t look angry anymore, merely stunned. “That... must have been the longest speech you’ve ever given me,” he remarked sheepishly.
“Fuck you. I don’t talk that much. Anyway, let’s focus. Reroute for a moment. Has anyone given you any more information on the call you received from the kidnapper, making all the demands?”
“No. Nothing.”
“There must be—”
“There isn’t. We checked. Then we evaluated those checks. There’s nothing we missed, and maybe that’s a sign…”
“A sign? Of what?”
“That this guy isn’t playing around. He made sure we wouldn’t find him. Our time is nearly spent, so it might be best to give him what he wants.”
