by JANIE CROUGH
The chief’s eyebrow raised again. “Perhaps you just aren’t trying hard enough.” He sat down in the chair across the table from her.
Adrienne barely refrained from rolling her eyes and sat down herself. “I assure you, it is not for lack of effort.”
“It seems like you never had this sort of problem when you worked for us before. It all came quite easily.”
“Easily?” Adrienne gave a quiet cough of joyless laughter. “Although I may not have had this much difficulty in the past, there was never anything easy about what I did for the FBI.”
Adrienne noticed rather smugly that her statement seemed to quiet Chief Kelly for the moment. She watched as he looked down at the pictures.
“Quite gruesome, aren’t they?” he asked after a moment.
There was nothing Adrienne could do but agree. “Yes. Horrible.”
“Don’t you want to help stop whoever is doing this from killing more women, or do you just not care at all?”
Adrienne knew better than to be taken aback by the chief’s abrupt tone but found herself feeling defensive anyway. “Chief Kelly, I’m not playing any games here. For whatever reason I’m just not able to get any insight into this case.”
“Perhaps I should remind you that it is not you who has much at stake here, but your ranch manager, Rick Vincent.”
Adrienne’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, Chief. I am well aware of why I am here and what’s at stake. And as much as I’d like to tell you to go to hell, I won’t.”
The chief sat back looking smug, but before he could respond, Adrienne continued in an angry tone. “And although you think you have some sort of hold over me now, Kelly, you don’t. I may have been here yesterday because of what you think you can do to Rick Vincent if I don’t cooperate. But I’m here right now because I want to help these women.”
Adrienne stood and began sorting the pictures back into the correct files. Chief Kelly stood also and walked over to the interrogation room door.
Adrienne stopped him before he could leave. “But I want to make sure you understand this—I am not back to work for you. This is a one-shot deal, and I’m done. I’m older now, and I won’t allow what happened to me before to happen again.”
Chief Kelly surprised her by looking apologetic. “Adrienne, we wouldn’t let anything like that happen again. We could put measures in place to prevent it, to look out for your well-being.”
“I thought that was true when I was eighteen years old—too young to know better. Now I know who I can trust. Myself,” Adrienne all but scoffed.
Chief Kelly seemed about to respond when the door to the interrogation room burst open. Conner gave a momentary look at Adrienne, then turned to Chief Kelly.
“Chief, we just got a call. There’s another victim.”
Whatever Chief Kelly had been about to say to Adrienne was completely forgotten. “Simon?” the chief asked quietly.
Conner glanced at Adrienne, then turned back to the chief, nodding curtly.
“Did we receive another package?”
Conner glimpsed at her again and then away. Adrienne couldn’t help but notice the way Conner posed himself with his back to her, which made it obvious that Adrienne was not a welcome part of this conversation.
“No, sir. Harrington and I are ready to proceed to the scene immediately.”
“Okay, keep me posted.” The chief excused himself quickly, and Conner turned to her.
“Seth and I have to leave for a little while.”
“I understand.”
“Do you want me to get someone to give you a ride back to the hotel?”
“No, I’ll just stay, if that’s okay.”
Conner shifted uncomfortably. “That’s fine. But I’ll need you to stay in this room. If you have to leave, use the phone on the table to call the offices and someone will escort you.”
“Don’t want me wandering around on my own, huh?”
“Adrienne...” Conner took a step toward her.
Adrienne held her arm out to stop him. “No, it’s fine. I’m not trustworthy. I get it. I haven’t been of any use to you yet, anyway.”
Conner sighed. “Adrienne, nobody’s mad at you. It’s okay if you can’t...”
Adrienne cut him off. “I know you have to go. That’s fine. I don’t need to be placated. I’m just going to look over the pictures some more.”
“Okay.” Conner looked relieved as he walked to the door. “If it looks like we’re going to be too long, I’ll call and let you know so you’re not just stuck here...”
Doing nothing.
Conner didn’t say the words out loud, but Adrienne could hear them as sure as if he had spoken them.
He gave an apologetic shrug and walked out the door.
“Doing nothing” aptly described what Adrienne had accomplished here over the past day and a half. She glanced down at the pictures again. She didn’t want to look at the brutal slayings anymore. Maybe she should just give it up, and head back to Vince and the horses.
Whatever Adrienne had been able to do for the FBI a decade ago, she was beginning to think she couldn’t do it anymore.
She should be glad. Seeing Chief Kelly had reminded her of the pain she had gone through working for the FBI before. Just thinking of it now made her head begin to throb a little. Not being able to use her gift meant Adrienne wouldn’t have to go through agony like the scene this morning at the coffee shop.
Adrienne sat and looked at the picture in her hands. It also meant she wouldn’t be able to help catch the psycho who had horrifically murdered this beautiful young woman. Or stop him from killing anyone else.
Was it worth the pain—although calling it pain was really like calling a sumo wrestler chubby—if she knew she could help? That’s what had kept her going for those two years, long past when any reasonable person could be expected to keep going. Knowing she could help.
Of course it looked like the decision was being made for her. She didn’t seem to be able to help whether she wanted to or not.
And great, now not being able to help was starting to give her a headache.
Adrienne reached into her purse to grab a bottle of aspirin and then picked up one of the crime scene photos that had fallen to the floor. She glanced at it as she set it down on the table.
And all the images came screaming into her head.
The killer, with his knife, taunting the victims. Cutting locks of their hair to mail. His absolute glee at their terror. Knowing he had the power.
Adrienne put her hands up to her head, trying to hold it together and keep it from splitting into thousands of jagged pieces. As she looked at more pictures, thoughts from the killer became clearer.
He didn’t kill them at the locations where they were found. He was much too smart for that. And the FBI agents were so stupid. It took them so long to catch on, he had to finally start sending them gifts. Bless their hearts.
Adrienne used all her concentration to block out the killer’s feelings, instead trying to concentrate on useful information: a location, a time, thoughts about his appearance.
She could see a building with beams in the ceiling. Maybe a warehouse? A large cellar? There were no windows. This is where he brought them and where he kept them for a few hours before he killed them.
It was so hard to wait. He was in charge. He had the power. He tried to wait so the good feeling would last longer. Simon says, wait. But it was so hard.
It was like listening to a child whine. Adrienne tried to hold on to that. His thoughts were very childlike.
But holding on to anything with all the noise in her head was nearly impossible. The killer’s malevolent thoughts were at the forefront, the loudest and most demanding. But pushing against her consciousness were other noises—other menacing forces, blurry ones wit
h no distinct voices or sights—like someone was screaming at her in a different language. She knew she should be able to figure out what the noises meant, but it was too hard.
Adrienne persisted as long as she could, tried to gather as much information as possible in the screaming recesses of her mind. But eventually it overwhelmed her. She crawled over to the trash can—walking was impossible—and vomited the entire contents of the lunch she had eaten a little while before.
She dragged herself back to the table, pushing the pictures as far away from her as she could. She laid her head down on her arms on the table, closing her eyes. She just focused on breathing in and out, on trying to empty her mind of the noise and images.
This was what she remembered most about working with the FBI ten years before: the concentration it often took just to survive the next moment. Because trying to think about more than that was impossible.
Adrienne wasn’t sure how long she lay with her head on the table. She thought it was hours, but she had been wrong before about that. She gingerly opened her eyes, delighted when the light didn’t shoot agony into her head. She sat up slowly, expecting at any time for the images and sounds—and pain—to return, and was surprised when they didn’t. Previously the only way to escape had been to physically remove herself from the area and any people.
Adrienne glanced at her phone. Conner had been gone for just over three hours. She wasn’t sure when he was coming back, but she wanted to share what had happened as soon as she could. Some of it would help, surely.
She hoped so. She hated to think she had gone through that for nothing.
Although she had to admit she felt much better than she ever had before when she had worked for the FBI. Instead of the splitting headache and nausea she had expected, she just felt a little tired.
She wasn’t brave enough to pick up the pictures that lay scattered all over the table and chair in case it instigated another physical onslaught. But she knew she had to remove the trash can where she had lost the contents of her stomach earlier. It wouldn’t take much longer before the smell of that would overpower the tiny interrogation room.
Double-bagging and tying the small garbage sack, Adrienne headed out the door to look for a larger trash can. Despite the icky contents of the bag, the farther she got from the interrogation room, the better she felt. She saw a large trash can at the end of the hallway and headed to it.
She had just thrown away the bag when the elevator doors opened, and Conner and Seth exited, both looking annoyed and harried.
“What are you doing out here?” Conner snapped. “I thought I told you to stay in the interrogation room.”
Adrienne was taken aback by his abrupt tone. “I needed to throw something away, so I stepped out for a few seconds.”
Conner looked at her suspiciously. “Isn’t there a trash can in the room?”
All the eagerness Adrienne had felt at sharing what she had discovered about Simon now disappeared with Conner’s annoyance and disapproval. “Yes, there was, but the trash smelled bad so I took it out.”
Adrienne didn’t wait to hear Conner’s response, just turned and headed back down the hallway.
He called after her anyway. “You’re not supposed to leave the interrogation room without an escort!”
Adrienne ignored him. Jackass. After what she had been through this afternoon, she really didn’t feel like putting up with him.
She made it all the way back to the interrogation room door before he caught up with her, grabbing her arm, but she noticed he was careful not to touch her burns.
“Did you hear me? I said you’re not supposed to leave the interrogation room without somebody with you.”
He had her at a distinct disadvantage—he towered a good ten inches over her five-foot-four frame. Adrienne had no doubt Conner Perigo knew exactly how to use his size to his advantage in intimidating others. But Adrienne wasn’t going to let him bully her. She looked him dead in the eye.
“The. Trash. Smelled. Bad.” She stood on tiptoe and accentuated each word with a poke to his chest. “So I took it out. It’s the only time I’ve left the room for the entire time you’ve been gone.”
Conner glowered down at her. “When you’re in this building and I tell you to do something...”
“Ahem, excuse me, kids,” Seth interrupted, sticking his head around Conner’s shoulder. “Is everything okay here?”
Adrienne and Conner continued to scowl at each other.
“Any luck while we were gone, Adrienne?” Seth continued.
Adrienne smirked at Conner then turned to Seth. “Actually, Seth, yes. As soon as you guys left, my abilities started working. I think I may have a lot of information for you about Simon Says.”
* * *
CONNER TOOK A step back when he heard the words Simon Says come out of Adrienne’s mouth. Dammit, he knew they shouldn’t have left her here alone, unsupervised. He didn’t know how she’d done it, but somehow she had gotten pertinent information about the case. Information she shouldn’t have known. Maybe she had chatted it out of some agents, or maybe she had gotten access to a file she shouldn’t have been privy to.
Either way she now had information she shouldn’t have.
Conner completely released Adrienne’s arm. She immediately turned and went into the interrogation room. Seth began to follow her in. Conner didn’t move.
“You coming?”
“In a minute. I need to get something from my desk. Don’t start without me.”
Conner could feel the anger building up inside him. He had to admit it was not all leveled at Adrienne. The crime scene they had just returned from had been an utter farce. When the call had come in that another woman’s body had been found, he and Seth had hoped this was the break they were looking for. Finally a crime scene before they had gotten a package from Simon Says. But upon arrival at the location, it hadn’t taken them long to figure out that this had not been Simon at all, but some sort of copycat. Too many differences, too much disorganization for it to be Simon.
Another waste of their time.
And then, as soon as they had returned, Conner finds Adrienne wandering all over the office, looking for a trash can? Seemed highly unlikely. And then she conveniently notifies them she has something to tell about the Simon Says case. A name she never could’ve known unless someone or something at this office had clued her in.
Conner walked over to his desk and grabbed a pen and ledger of paper. He and Seth would listen to what Adrienne had to say, but then they would send her back to her ranch. He didn’t care what the chief said anymore. Conner was tired of being jerked around by dead ends.
Conner headed back to the interrogation room. He had wanted to believe Adrienne and her “abilities,” especially after this morning. But he was tired of wasting time.
The smell hit him as he walked into the interrogation room. “Holy cow, what is that?”
Adrienne rolled her eyes at him. “I told you the trash smelled bad. That was why I was taking it out. You’ll get used to it in a second.”
Conner realized Seth was gone. “Where’s Seth?”
“He went to get a can of air freshener.”
“Thank God. What was in the trash?”
“I got sick to my stomach while you were gone.”
Conner felt bad and let go of a little of his anger. “Oh, I’m sorry you got sick. Are you feeling better?”
“Yes. Surprisingly I feel pretty great.”
Conner looked down at the photographs scattered all over the table. “Did you have a temper tantrum?” He gestured at them with his hand.
“No.” Adrienne glared at him. “But I didn’t want to touch them again, just in case.”
“In case what?”
“In case I had the same reaction as I did the last time I looked at them.
”
Seth walked in and began spraying the room with freshener until it was difficult to breathe. But at least it smelled better.
Conner and Seth picked up the photos and sat across the table from Adrienne. He watched as Adrienne sat up straight in her chair and folded her hands lightly in her lap. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Conner realized he was watching a ritual. She had done this before. Perhaps many times.
“Part of him thinks of this as a game,” Adrienne began in a serious tone and then opened her eyes. “And he thinks you—the FBI—are stupid.”
Conner and Seth looked at each other. They knew what Adrienne was saying was true. It was obvious from the mocking tone of the notes Simon had sent with the locks of hair.
Conner grimaced. If Adrienne knew this, it meant she had somehow accessed the files. That was more information than he wanted available to her.
“Go on,” Seth encouraged.
“He’s alternating between gleeful and whiny—like a young child. He likes to be in control, to terrify the women and prove he has power over them. He takes absolute delight in sending you the locks of hair.”
Conner stayed still, but Seth sat back and whistled through his teeth. He obviously believed this was coming from Adrienne’s “visions” rather than her accessing information while they were gone.
“No offense,” Conner interrupted, “but you’re not telling us anything that is not already in a file here. A file that perhaps got shown to you while we were gone.”
That seemed better than accusing her of breaking into a desk.
“Agent Perigo.”
Uh-oh, they were back to last names.
“Why would I do that? There’s no point to it.”
“I don’t know, Ms. Jeffries. You tell me.”
Conner felt Seth nudge him under the table. “Ignore him, Adrienne. Continue, please,” Seth entreated.
“He keeps a separate lock of hair for himself. A trophy.”
That was new. Of course, conveniently, there was no way to know if it was accurate.
“He places all the women at the locations where they are found, but he doesn’t kill them there.”
