by J. E. Taylor
“Come on, he’s got to be like that with all his prospective models.”
Olivia laughed. “He is a devilish flirt, yes, but the gleam in his eyes is different when he’s talking about you as opposed to the others on his list. And he does talk about his photo sessions and other paintings while I’m posing, but there’s definitely a difference when he says your name.”
Carolyn chewed her bottom lip as she approached the intersection of Fulton and Broadway. “Maybe I shouldn’t call.”
“Please, I really want to be the premier of his show on the 17th, even if I have to share the spotlight with you.”
Carolyn sighed. “Okay, I guess I can give him a call.” Randy won’t like it at all, but maybe once he saw the final product, he’d get over himself.
“I have to run, I need to catch lunch and be back at the studio at 2.”
“We’ll have to hook up for dinner sometime this week.”
“Sure thing, give me a call.”
Carolyn hung up and approached the steps of City Hall, stopping and staring at the building. At least the public defender’s offices were not on the same floor as the district attorney’s. She climbed the stairs, holding her breath and praying she wouldn’t run into anyone from the office. She almost made it to her destination.
“Carolyn.”
She spun toward the angry voice. “Jim.” The temperature in the lobby dropped a few notches as Jim approached her.
“You’re out of your league here.” His hand clenched tightly, but the index finger protruded in her direction like a metal barrel, loaded and ready to pump her full of lead.
Carolyn shrugged. “I don’t think so. I think you’re the one who’s on the wrong side of the table this time, Jim, and you know it. Hell, you know my talent for playing to a jury.”
Jim’s lips pressed into a thin line, his face going a peculiar shade of red that Carolyn had never seen, almost purple in contrast to the stark white of his lips. The snort that came from his nose was enough to make Carolyn break out in a tight chuckle.
“Why, Jim, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.” She tilted her head, toying with her ex-boss, knowing it would infuriate him even more.
The glare he sent in her direction was akin to dousing her with gasoline and lighting a match. The thoughts behind it were of the same vein.
“Now, Jim, you don’t really mean those vile thoughts, do you?” Dramatically, she put her hands over her heart and widened her eyes in that sad look he abhorred, feigning hurt.
He stormed away without another word. Carolyn watched his march, each footfall echoed louder than normal in the marble atrium sounding more like a rushing crowd than just one man.
She chuckled. I just reduced Jim Britt to an angry little boy! Amused and feeling a bit more in control of her destiny, she turned and entered the Public Defender’s office. Pulling the signed contract for representation out of her attaché case, she handed it to the receptionist. “I’d like everything you have on this case.” She smiled and waited.
With the file in hand, she headed down the steps and into the park across the street from City Hall. The world tilted.
Crap, there she was walking away from the building. She spun and her vision righted, but this time, there wasn’t a familiar face in the crowd. At least not one she could see, but that didn’t preclude someone ducking behind any of the trees or subway kiosks.
A chill gripped her, he had been far enough away to almost lose her in the crowd, but close enough for the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. She fumbled in her purse for her phone, standing perfectly still as people rushed by. The card was still stuck in the front pocket and she yanked it out, stabbing the numbers frantically as her eyes continued their back and forth scan of the park.
“Agent Williams?”
“Where are you, Carolyn?” Agent Williams said.
She didn’t stop to question how he knew it was her. “I’m in the park across from City Hall and he’s here somewhere.”
“Stay put, I’m just around the corner.”
She folded the phone and moved to the nearest bench, standing next to it and shaking. Who the hell is it? Her eyes jumped from face to face, gleaning thoughts in quick succession, none of which were ominous or even showed recognition of her. She kept up the frantic scan until her eyes landed on the baby blues of Agent Williams.
“Where were you when you switched views?”
Carolyn crossed to the exact spot. “I was walking toward downtown and he was probably at least a hundred feet behind me.” She turned. “At least.”
“Okay. I’ll stand here and you go back until you have the right view.”
Carolyn hesitated scanning the trees.
“He’s never attacked in broad daylight in a crowd. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Go.” He waved her off.
Carolyn walked in the direction he shooed her in, stopping intermittently to look back until she found the spot, not because of the view, but because she stepped into a hot spot, a heat zone left by his aura that made her breath stop in her chest and her skin break out in goose bumps.
“Here.” The word escaped, a rasp scratching her throat as she locked eyes with Agent Williams. Right here, I feel it.
The nod he gave clinched it. He heard her plain as if she was next to him and that knowledge overwhelmed Carolyn.
He came to her quickly and took her elbow, leading her back in the direction of the apartment without any words. His touch was reassuring, while his eyes scanned the crowd like a hawk trying to hone in on its prey. When they were safely in the apartment he spoke. “We weren’t followed.”
Carolyn nodded and tossed her attaché case onto the table. Anger and fear bristled, leaving her in an emotional turmoil. “Why? Why do I have this connection with the killer?”
Agent Williams led her to the couch. “I don’t know. It could be your paths intersected before or it could be your paths are destined to intersect.”
Neither explanation helped and Carolyn covered her face in frustration. She hated being scared and today this bastard scared the shit out of her.
Agent Williams stood, his hand on her shoulder in support, but she could tell he was uncomfortable just by his slight shift from foot to foot. “I’ll catch him.”
Carolyn looked up. “Before or after he kills me?”
Agent Williams allowed a rueful smile and took the seat next to her. “I’m going to teach you a little something that may save your life if you remember how to use it.”
Carolyn kept eye contact, skeptical he had any wisdom to impart that would actually keep her from the sights of this madman. “What, some sort of Zen master move?”
His smile gained traction at the attempt at humor. “Something like that.” A beat of silence and then he continued. “You know how to read minds, but do you know how to project your thoughts to others?”
Her eyebrows shot up and she shook her head.
“All right. Let’s try this out.” I’d actually prefer it if you called me Steve instead of Agent Williams.
Carolyn winced. His voice was louder than standing next to someone with one of those bull horns, but he hadn’t spoken aloud. “You don’t have to yell, Steve.” She made a point of using his name.
Agent Williams smiled. “Now you try. You know my name, in order to project a thought you have to push it out of your head, and you can actually feel it go.”
Carolyn started to chuckle. “This really is like a Zen master move.”
He rolled his eyes and nodded. “If you want to look at it that way, fine, but I’m serious. If you can do it here, you can call me from anywhere.”
Carolyn stopped laughing, narrowing her eyes for a second before what he was telling her sank in. “So I can call you from anywhere, but how the hell can that save my life?”
“If I hear you, I can get to you.”
“What good would that do if I’m in a dark alley with an armed killer?”
Agent Williams allowed a sm
ile. “I told you in your office that I’m special. Even the FBI doesn’t know the extent of what I can do.” If they did, I’d be a lab rat in some hidden maximum security research facility.
Carolyn pushed into the back of the couch, away from him, his silent admission frightening her.
“Of course, that’s if they figured out a way to keep me locked up.”
“What exactly can you do?” The question came out in a squeak and he chuckled in response.
“More than you can imagine, and it still freaks the hell out of me at times, too. Now, if we can get back to the Zen master thing…”
His nonchalant admission took her by surprise as well as his attempt at humor, and she nodded. “By all means,” she said waving her hand and giving him the floor. “You still haven’t told me how calling you can save my life, especially if presented with a situation like my visions.”
“You call, I show up. It’s that simple.”
She still didn’t get it. “Like today?”
“No—you call me in your head and I can follow the psychic path right to where you are.”
“What are you, Superman?”
Steve’s dimples appeared and a full laugh escaped. The smile reached his eyes and for a moment, she forgot he was a married federal agent. All she could think of was how good he must be in the bedroom. A jolt of shock followed and she blinked, surprised at the effect he had on her. His laughter wound down and the color in his cheeks bloomed. Oh crap, he must have heard me.
“I get that reaction a lot,” he said and glanced away.
“What, Superman or the fact your smile could deflower the most devout of nuns?”
“Um, the latter,” he said and the red hue spread to encompass his entire face. The dimples persisted and he stood, crossing to the window. “Back to my point. If you can call me, I can save you from being slaughtered.”
“How?”
“I can be in two places at once. It’s quite handy if I’m called at the right time.”
Carolyn couldn’t wrap her head around the concept. Two places at once, does he think I’m daft enough to fall for this hocus pocus?
He turned. “I’m not bullshitting you, Carolyn.”
“Okay…” She still didn’t buy it.
“Look, let’s just see if you can project. If you can, then I’ll show you what I mean. Does that work for you?”
Carolyn sighed. “Sure,” she said to humor him. This was too farfetched to be real and for the first time, she wondered if she was losing it.
“You’re not losing it. Now focus the thought using my name as the target.”
This is absolutely insane. The thought popped into her head and she pushed it, imagining the words as a swinging saloon door in the Wild West. This certainly felt like something just as bizarre as waking up in the 1800s. Agent Williams’ eyes widened a fraction and he rubbed his ear. “Did I do it?”
He nodded. “Not quite as loud as some of the others who have done it in the past, but I still got an earache so I know it was in my head instead of just being in yours. And yes, it is absolutely insane.” His blue eyes sparkled, the smile showing hints of lines around his eyes. “Now the key is doing that when you’re in trouble. I only need one word and I need you to scream it as loudly as you can—not just a little shove like you just did. The louder and stronger the connection, the quicker I can get there. You don’t have to know where you are, either; I’ll just follow the psychic trail you leave behind.”
Psychic trail, what the hell is a psychic trail?
“Here, let me show you.” He stood and left the apartment, closing the door. The deadbolt clicked into place behind him.
Go somewhere else but the living room and try it. His voice rang in her ears, from the inside and she now understood the earache comment. She rubbed her right ear to silence the throbbing and went into the bedroom, finding a spot with a clear view of the living room. “Here goes nothing,” she said. Okay, here I am! The thought leapt out like a pouncing tiger producing a dull throb in the center of her forehead.
A throat cleared behind her and she spun around to Agent Williams leaning on her dresser, his arms crossed in front of him, and his head cocked to the side.
“Go take a look in the hall.” He pointed toward the living room and curiosity got the best of her. She nearly ran to the front door, ripping it open and stopped, staring at the frozen corpse in the hallway.
She shot a glance over her shoulder at the man standing in the bedroom doorway, disbelief melting away at the dual visions. He gave her a shrug and disappeared.
Her gaze shot back to the hallway, his pale corpse reanimated, like a ghost settling back into the human form. He blinked and met her gaze with a sheepish smile and an ‘I told you so’ raise of his eyebrow.
“Astral projection.”
“What happens if you do that while you’re driving?”
“I would imagine I’d get into trouble.”
This is bizarre. “Does your...” she waived toward the bedroom. “Image, for lack of a better word, have the same abilities that you do?”
He smiled, nodding. “Yes, and I’m solid in both places. It is bizarre,” he said, responding to her thoughts. “But it’s come in handy a time or two.”
“Were you born with this?” How the hell are you not locked up in a government facility?
“I told you, the government has no idea what I’m capable of, and as far as your question, no, this was bestowed on me a few years back, around the time the Slasher attacked my family.”
“Bestowed, what the hell do you mean by bestowed?” She couldn’t fathom what that meant. Every path her mind went down was of the unreal persuasion and she shook the thoughts from her head.
“It was basically something like a transfer on death.” He shrugged. “But my wife was born with her talent, just like you.”
Carolyn glanced toward the bedroom again. “I get that you can suddenly appear when called, but how exactly can you save my life?”
“Go grab a knife and I’ll show you.”
Carolyn shrugged, now completely enthralled by the man. She headed toward the kitchen and froze, unable to move a muscle, held in place by invisible hands. Agent Williams walked into her field of view, his chin tilted toward his chest and his eye, holy shit, the blue in his eyes seemed to be swirling like a massive aqua waterspout. He smiled and released the mental hold, his eyes settling into that piercing blue.
“How much does the FBI know?”
Agent Williams pulled a deep breath, his gaze level with hers. “My boss knows a few things, but not everything. I’m not sure what he’s told his superiors, but considering I’m still free to come and go as I please, I’d imagine he’s kept it pretty close to the vest.”
“Why confide in me?”
A crease appeared between his eyes and he bit the side of his lip, studying her. “Are you planning on calling a press conference?”
“Expose Superman?” she asked.
The dimples appeared again, followed by a flash of teeth and a chuckle. “Not likely.”
She smiled. “I do have to say, I’m glad you’re on the right side of the law.”
“As opposed to the left?”
“Are you always such a smart ass?”
“Ay-up.”
“Well, it seems you’ve got that down to a science.”
Chuckling, he said, “I guess.” He offered a shrug and his smile faded. “I understand the D.A. isn’t too happy with your new vocation.”
Carolyn raised her eyebrows.
“Defense attorney.”
“Yes, but how did you know?”
He tapped his temple and pointed at her, indicating the thoughts swarming in her head. She sighed, wondering if there was anything she could keep from this gifted agent.
“Nope, not a thing,” Steve said and grabbed his discarded jacket, slipping it on before he spoke. “In the meantime, just holler if you need anything.” He gave a nod and slipped out the door, leaving Carolyn staring
after him.
She caught her reflection in the glass of the curio cabinet and popped her mouth closed, keeping eye contact with her image. “That was just bizarre.” If Randy thought she was a freak… a laugh escaped, not her normal full-bodied laugh but a tight nervous cackle that caused the hair to bristle on her arms.
Before she could crack open her attaché case and look over the contents, the ringing of the phone interrupted her. Recognizing the number, she picked up the handset. “Hi, Diane.”
“Good morning, Carolyn,” Diane said, but something in her tone set Carolyn’s nerves on edge.
“When do I get to talk with my client?”
“About that,” she paused and the shuffle of papers filled the line. “The District Attorney’s office offered a deal and we’re going to take it, so Anton won’t need your services.”
“I didn’t see any paperwork in the file regarding a deal.”
“I hadn’t signed the forms yet, Carolyn, so technically Sean was still Anton’s attorney and he made the deal.”
“What did Jim offer?”
“Juvenile detention until Anton is sixteen and then parole until he graduates from high school at which time the records will be sealed.”
“What’s the charge on his record?”
“Involuntary manslaughter.”
Jim certainly did an about face on this case. “I could have gotten him off, Diane. No jail time, no record, nothing.”
Paper shuffled again. “I couldn’t bet on that. The offer was good considering the circumstances.”
“Didn’t you question the reason for the change?”
Another pause, this time Diane’s discomfort bled through the phone line. “I’ve already signed the deal, so whether I questioned the reasoning or not, it’s a moot point.”
A whirlwind of responses swirled in Carolyn’s mind, none of which were appropriate and none of which escaped the confines of her tight lips. “Fine,” she finally uttered and hung up before she said something more derisive.
Carolyn glanced at the file on the coffee table and stood, crossing to the balcony, curses falling from her lips with each step. Jim Britt is going to rue the day he crossed me.
With nothing left to do today, she turned and grabbed her pocketbook, rummaging until she found the card. Flicking it between her fingers, she weighed the options. How upset would Randy get? “To hell with it…” She picked up the phone and dialed.
