Paige closed her eyes. She drew in a deep breath. “I have……………a gift.”
“A gift?” Sergeant Drake frowned, confusion creasing his forehead.
“I can sense things. I know things about people sometimes.” Paige twisted her hands together. “Last night, I dreamed of Jean. I saw the attack. When I woke up, I knew it was either taking place or would be soon. I thought I could phone the police and get her help in time.” She stared down at the tiled floor. “I failed.”
DI Hammond threw his hands into the air. “Oh, please! Do you expect us to believe this rubbish?”
Sergeant Drake shook his head, his expression shocked. Clearly whatever he’d thought she was going to reveal, it wasn’t that. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted.
Paige bit her lip, indecision warring within. Finally, she decided if she had told them this much, she may as well go the whole way. She grabbed an order pad from the counter and pulled a pen out from her apron pocket. She wrote down a name and number on the paper, ripped it off and handed it to DI Hammond.
“What the hell is this?” he frowned, glaring down at the paper.
“I used to do work for the police on cases before,” she told him, twisting the pen around in her fingers. “That is the detective I worked with. He will vouch for me.” She glanced between them. “I can tell you this much. The person that killed Jean is the same person that killed those women in Hindleford. It isn’t two different killers, as you are currently thinking. You need to advise DI Steele that to find his killer, he has to look into Jean’s death. She knew this person. I believe she is the key to finding the Hindleford Killer.”
DI Hammond laughed in her face. “You’ve already tripped yourself up, lady. This death doesn’t fit the MO of the deaths in Hindleford. It’s not the same guy.”
Paige shook her head. “You’re the one that’s wrong, detective. Whatever the killer gets from murdering those women in Hindleford was a different motivation to Jean. He simply wanted to shut her up because she knew his identity. That’s all.”
Sergeant Drake ran a hand over his thick grey hair, his eyes wide. “This is all so hard to believe, but I’ve known Paige a while. She’s an honest, genuine young woman. I think you ought to check out what she says.”
Paige stared at Sergeant Drake in shock. He wasn’t just dismissing her or staring at her like she’d just turned into a monster? He caught her expression and winked at her. “Hell, Paige. I’ve worked in law enforcement my entire life. I’ve seen all sorts. Why not a psychic?”
She smiled tentatively at him, then turned back to Hammond. “Well? Will you advise DI Steele?”
He stared at them both. “This town is nuts!” He glared at the paper in his hand, before stuffing it into his pocket. “We’ll check into this. When it turns out to be bogus, I’ll be back.” He stabbed a finger at Sergeant Drake. “You’d better make sure she doesn’t leave town.”
Paige saw them out, then sagged into a chair. She felt completely drained. She stared around the messy café. She’d clean up in a minute. Paige sighed, wondering what would happen next. Her entire life had been turned totally upside down because of this killer.
Now Sergeant Drake knew her secret and soon DI Steele would be advised of what she’d said. Would he believe it? She had told him where to search. She’d given him everything he needed to track down and find this killer. As far as she was concerned, she’d already done her part. The rest was now up to him.
Chapter Six
Kieran Steele leaned back in his chair, trying to place some distance between him and Rik Hammond. The man leaned over the desk, his hulking stature reminding Kieran of a bird of prey or Dracula. He’d thundered towards Kieran, his expression darker than a thunder storm and blurted out the most ridiculous story Kieran had ever heard in his life. Several heads had turned towards them, and the sound of snickers reached his ears.
He raised an eyebrow at Rik, his eyes widening incredulously. Had he actually heard the man right? “A psychic told you the murder in Oakwood Grove was committed by the Hindleford killer? Seriously?”
Rik Hammond snorted, a sneer twisting his lips. “That’s what she says. Personally, I think she’s just trying to steer us away from the fact that she was at her employee’s house late at night. Either she and Ms Holdbrook were involved or she’s the attacker. Either way, I don’t trust her at all.”
“So, why are you coming to me?” Kieran queried, spreading his hands wide. “I have more important things to do than waste my time with this.”
Rik scowled, “Because the Sergeant in that backwoods place will ask me if I passed on the information. I don’t need him on my back. He’s already defending her. If I don’t follow through on supposed information, he could say I’m victimising a witness and squashing evidence. I intend to nail this bitch, and I won’t have anyone standing in my way.”
Kieran frowned. He’d never really liked Rik. The man was intense in a strange kind of way, but he’d never seen him like this over someone before. What had this woman in Oakwood Grove done to illicit such a reaction from the detective? He shook his head. It was none of his concern. He had his own case to worry about.
“Fine. Hand me the paper and leave. You can say you’ve done what you were asked and I can get back to my case.” Kieran held out his hand, impatiently wriggling his fingers.
Rik slapped a piece of paper into his palm, then spun on his heel and left. Kieran glanced at the paper briefly before screwing it up and tossing it towards the bin. It bounced on the edge of the metal rim and fell onto the floor. Kieran gritted his teeth, sighed and leaned down to retrieve the paper.
“What was that all about?” the voice of his partner, Sergeant Pete Tucker, reached his ears. He jerked, banging his head on the edge of his desk.
Cursing, Kieran rubbed at the wounded area while glaring at the young man. Pete looked much younger than he actually was. His short thin frame and slight baby faced features had earned him the nickname Pipsqueak, or Pip for short.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to creep up on me?” Kieran growled, still rubbing at his head. He shifted his positon so he was sitting properly back in his chair.
Pip shrugged, not looking the least bit remorseful. He slapped down a coffee in front of Kieran, nodding his head towards Hammond’s desk. “Well, what’s going on? I could hear Hammond’s snarls all the way from the coffee machine.”
Sighing, Kieran filled him in. He threw the paper in the bin as he finished. Pip frowned, bent down and fished it out. “Don’t you think you should look into it?”
Kieran raised a brow. “You can’t be serious! You want me to check out a psychic? Since when did police work involve mystics and mumbo jumbo?” He shook his head, wiggling his fingers as if conjuring magic. “I wonder about you sometimes, Pip. I really do!”
“There is more to life than just what you see and touch, you know. My Mum’s best friend had a sixth sense. She often knew things she had no Earthly way of knowing,” Pip huffed, clearly offended.
Kieran rolled his eyes “I’m sure that’s all very nice for party tricks, but we are involved in a real police investigation here. Not fantasy.” He waved his hand at Pip. “Bring me the report from the medical examiner on our latest victim. I want to go over both reports together. There may be something we can find if we examine them both. Something we’ve missed.”
Pip ignored the instruction as he unscrewed the paper in his hand. He sucked in a breath. “I think you really ought to look at this.” He waved it towards Kieran.
Kieran ground his teeth. “Didn’t you hear me, Pip? I gave you an order and I expect you to follow it.”
The young man glared at him. “Fine. I’ll get the reports.” He flung the straightened out paper down in front of Kieran with a thump. “But you really ought to see who this woman wrote down as her verification.”
He spun on his heel and stomped away. Kieran sighed. He really didn’t know what had come over the young Sergeant. He pi
cked up the paper, intending on screwing it up and throwing it in the bin again. His eyes widened as he recognised the name written in a delicate handwriting across the small page. He gasped. Don Lockwood? The man was a mentor and a friend. Kieran considered him one of the very best detective’s ever to grace the force. Surely this woman couldn’t know him? Maybe she’d heard of him from newspaper reports or from the internet? He was widely renowned. But how had she obtained his private number?
Kieran toyed with the paper, indecision warring inside him. He’d never believed in anything beyond the world he could see around him. There had never been evidence to the contrary, even when he’d begged a so called higher power for help or guidance. Life had taught him he could only count on himself for answers. Yet here was a woman claiming to have aided a man he admired and respected highly. It tipped the balance of his world and he wasn’t sure he wanted to probe that further.
Kieran swivelled in his chair and stared at the evidence board behind him. Two innocent young women stared down at him, each seeming to beg him to bring justice for them. He was no nearer to solving their murders and his gut told him there would be a third face up there soon, if he didn’t find a lead.
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. Maybe Pip was right about following up on this lead. What could it hurt to hear what Don had to say? He was most likely to denounce the woman as a liar and then Rik could continue to pursue the line of investigation he was obviously itching to go down.
He grabbed his phone off the dark wood surface of his desk and scrolled through his contacts until he reached Don’s name. He ran his thumb across the screen to place the call. It rang for several moments before the call was picked up.
“Hey, Steele. It’s been a while.” Don’s deep baritone voice brought back fond memories. Kieran smiled.
“Hey, Don. How’s things in London?” Kieran fiddled with a pen on his desk.
“Not the same without you. Don’t you miss it here?” Don queried. “A small town can’t compete with the buzz of city life. Not to mention the cases.”
Kieran squeezed his eyes closed briefly as deep pain pierced his chest. “Sometimes, but you know I had to get away.”
Don sighed heavily. “She was never worthy of you, my friend. You shouldn’t let her drive you away from what you love doing. You’re the best damn detective I ever had the pleasure of training. The city needs guys like you.”
Kieran cleared his throat, awkwardly. He really didn’t want to talk about his ex. It was still too raw and painful. “It would seem small towns need me just as much. Have you heard the news? I have a serial killer on my hands and I’ve only been here two months.”
Don sighed. “Yep, I heard. Seems to be one slippery bastard from what I’ve heard on the grapevine. One of the tough ones, huh? Is that why you’re calling? You need some advice on reeling this lunatic in?”
Kieran cleared his throat and fiddled with his tie. “It’s kind of awkward, but I’ve had a strange lead that sprung up from another case in the town a few miles from here. Your name came up to verify a witness’s authenticity.”
“Oh?” Don sounded intrigued. “What do you mean by strange?”
“There’s been another murder in this neighbouring town. There is nothing to link it to the case I’m working on. I mean nothing! The MO is totally different to the Hindleford killings.” He paused, gathering his thoughts or maybe his courage.
“So, why are you calling me?” Don sounded even more confused.
“The thing is,” Kieran forced himself to continue, “a woman placed a call to emergency services reporting the incident, but she denies being at the victims house and claims to have seen the attack in a dream. She says it’s the same killer as the man in Hindleford.” He laughed awkwardly. “See what I mean? I feel foolish even calling you to ask about it.”
Don was quiet for several moments. “A psychic woman gave you my name and number?”
“Yep?”
“What’s her name?”
Kieran frowned. “Hammond did mention it.” He rubbed his forehead. What the heck had Rik said her name was?
“Paige Saunders?” Don suppled. It came out more as a statement than a question.
Kieran snapped his fingers. “That’s it!” He paused as the fact Don knew her name sank in. “Are you telling me you do know her? What, is she some kind of nut from your past?”
Don sighed long and loud. “I hate to break this to you and Hammond, but she’s no charlatan. Paige is the real deal. If she says your cases are connected, then they are.”
Kieran choked on an incredulous laugh. “You don’t believe in that crap?”
“I believe in Paige,” Don was totally serious. “She helped me solve my most complicated and difficult cases. Without her, a number of criminals would still be walking free.” He paused briefly. “If she is willing to work with you, it’s your best bet to finding and arresting this killer.”
Kieran frowned. “You’re serious? You actually think I should work with her?”
“If she’ll help you, then yes.”
Kieran sat back in his chair and blew out a deep breath. His mind spun in circles. He didn’t know what to think. “I don’t believe in this stuff,” he stated finally.
“You don’t have to. Simply bring her in on it and learn. You have the best thing you could wish for land in your lap with this case. Paige was the best I ever worked with. I was gutted when she quit and left London, much the same as I was when you left. Trust me, she can help you solve this before anyone else dies.”
Kieran remained silent for several moments, trying to digest Don’s words. He refused to believe what he was being told, yet here was a man he trusted and admired telling him to work with a psychic. “You said she quit. Why?”
Don was silent for several minutes. “The last case we worked on didn’t go well. Paige took it hard. She blamed herself for a death, even though it wasn’t her fault. She never wanted to go back into this work ever again. You may have a hard time convincing her to help you. That she’s done as much as she has already surprises me.”
Kieran gaze swivelled back to the two young blondes staring down at him from the white board, indecision almost tearing him apart. He didn’t need some woman with so called mystical powers. He would solve this. Yet she said the murder in Oakwood Grove was connected to Hindleford, something he would never have considered. The key to capturing this killer was with that victim according to her. And the man he admired so much said he could rely on Miss Saunders’ information. What would it hurt to dig a little deeper?
“How do I convince her to help?” he finally asked, almost kicking himself as he did so.
Don laughed. “I know what this is costing you my friend, but keep an open mind. If you want Paige’s help, you have to persuade her that not helping will lose more lives and that will be on her.”
Kieran sucked in a deep breath. “Harsh.”
“I know, but unless you push her real hard, Paige will run a mile from this and herself. Good luck, my friend. Keep me posted.” He paused before adding, “And take care of my girl.”
The call ended from the other side. Kieran sighed as he stood up and tucked his phone in his pocket. He could see Pip heading towards him, both reports he’d requested gripped in the young man’s hand. Pip reached his desk and slapped the folders down, clearly still in a mood with him.
“Okay, so you had a point,” Kieran conceded. “It was worth checking into.”
“Oh?” Pip raised an eyebrow, his expression slightly shocked. “You spoke to Don then?”
“Yep, and he says this woman is the real deal.” Kieran frowned, still not convinced. He had every intention of testing Miss Saunders. He refused to believe in the woman until she proved herself to him!
“So, we’re going to speak to her?” Pip sounded excited. His eyes gleamed.
“Hold your horses.” Kieran held up his hands. “I’m going to check out our so called psychic, since you’re clearly convinced she’s authen
tic and I’ll hold a more reserved opinion. I have other things for you to do in the meantime.”
“Like what?” Pip frowned, his mouth downturned unhappily.
Kieran slapped him on the shoulder. “You, my friend, are going to see Hammond and give him the good news that we are taking on the Oakwood Grove case. I want you to start pouring over the evidence he’s gathered and compile information on the victim.”
Pip’s groan filled his ears as he picked up his car keys and headed for the exit. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Pip yelled after him. “You owe me big time!”
Chapter Seven
Paige locked up the café and glanced up at the cloudy sky. The air hung heavy with the promise of rain. She drew her coat around herself a little tighter against the chill wind that rushed over her. She wished she’d brought an umbrella with her when she’d left home that morning. Maybe she could make it before the rain started. She tucked her keys in her bag and turned towards home.
“Excuse me!” a voice called out. “Miss Saunders?”
Paige turned to see a young woman heading towards her from the opposite side of the street. The girl was tall and lanky, with light blonde hair trailing in a plat over one shoulder. She was kind of plain with a strong jawline, but her eyes were framed with thick lashes that softened her features and made her almost pretty. She lifted a hand in an awkward wave.
Paige had no idea who the girl was. Had she served her in the café before? She didn’t think so. She was usually good with faces. “Can I help you?” she asked politely.
“Ah, I’m kind of hoping I can help you.” The girl stuck her hand out. “I’m Louisa. I heard you may be needing someone to help out in the café?”
Paige stared at her in shock. Could someone really be that devoid of tact? She ignored the girl’s quivering hand. “You do know what has happened? Why there might be a vacancy?” she bit out, anger slicing through her. “One of my staff just died. Murdered last night! How can you think that after just finding out about that this morning, I’d be ready to replace her by the afternoon?”
The Hindleford Killer (The Psychic Eye Mysteries Book 1) Page 4
