Brett scrubbed a hand across his face. “So to recap: believing that Paige had some sort of premonition and drew both her own attack and Teresa’s murder long before either event happened.” Mentioning the sleep part would just muddy the waters.
“Yep.” Alex saluted him with his glass.
“You know that means going against everything I've learned in nearly twelve years in law enforcement. I'm not into hocus pocus type stuff. It goes against logic."
"Hey, I'm not suggesting we take up casting spells or voodoo dolls. But maybe your gal has some sort of sixth sense or something."
Like her sister did with the FBI.
Brett didn't bring that up because this conversation was already one of the weirdest of his life. Brett needed to put in a call to the San Francisco FBI field office. Just to get an understanding of what Paige's sister could do.
"Yeah, sixth sense. I guess it's not unheard of."
Alex shrugged. "If you don't think she's crazy, and you don't think she's a killer, then your only option is to believe what she's saying. And use it. Because what if the next person she draws is still alive and we can use that to help save someone's life? If that's the case, then I don't care when or how she draws it, or if she does it with her toes."
Brett nodded. Alex was right. Who cared how it was happening, it was happening. Hell, he'd seen it himself. Seen her draw in her sleep. Seen the toll it had taken on her. She hadn't been making that up.
Brett raised his glass and a small salute to Alex. "To using whatever methods we can to catch a killer."
They clinked glasses. "Even the zany ones.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I don’t date the pictures.
Paige’s words about her drawings were echoing through Brett’s mind when he woke up the next morning.
What she’d said to him when he’d asked her when she’d drawn the picture of Teresa Cavasos. That she wasn’t sure because she didn’t date them. Plural.
He hadn’t really paid attention to her exact words at the time because he’d been reeling from the drawing she’d shown him. But now his brain was now thinking about it full force.
How many more did she have?
He called her last night after his beer with Alex. He hadn't wanted her to worry that he deliberately wasn't contacting her.
But when the call had gone straight to voicemail he had to admit he was a little relieved. He left a message saying he would call her today, and he would. He hoped she wasn't at her house upset. Worried that she’d never hear from him again.
He couldn't leave her alone now if he wanted to. He had to know what other information she had about murders that were possibly tied together. Especially now that his subconscious was remembering that she had more than one drawing.
Truth was he couldn’t leave her alone even if she had nothing to do with any case for the rest of his career.
But Brett knew he wouldn't truly be able to be with Paige until these cases were sorted out. Not the way he wanted to be with her. Which scared him a little bit.
It scared him more that it didn’t scare him more. When he’d moved back to Portland, he’d known his football past would come into play, at least for some people —like Randal and Terri— who wanted to bask in the glory days their whole lives. Thought he might even date an ex-cheerleader or two once he got here.
He’d never expected Paige Jeffries. She wasn’t a cheerleader. Wasn’t part of the glory days.
She was so, so much more.
But right now, he needed to get back up to her house and see exactly what other pictures she hadn't shown him. Maybe they were just more of Teresa Cavasos, but maybe it was much more than that.
Brett got dressed and went into work. Before he could go back to Paige's house he needed to look into something else she'd alluded to. Paige's sister and the work she did for the FBI. Some sort of profiler, with a special gift. Brett didn't know exactly what he was hoping to gain from the information. Maybe just an affirmation that unorthodox law enforcement methods did exist.
Affirmation that Brett wasn’t crazy for even considering this.
Alex and Brett nodded at one another from across the office, but didn't mention their conversation last night. Right now there wasn't anything more to mention about it. They were both waist deep in details from Teresa Cavasos’ murder, studying the details as they were handed over from missing persons.
It was after lunch before Brett was able to make his call to the San Francisco field office of the FBI. All he knew was the person he should talk to was named Conner Perigo and that he was Paige's brother-in-law.
It took a minute for the call to be routed to the correct desk. Brett wasn't sure what he was going to say at all. He would keep this official. Businesslike. Maybe keep Paige's name out of it all together.
"Conner Perigo." The other man answered the phone without any other greeting.
"Special agent Perigo, this is Detective Brett Wagner, with the Portland PD."
"Detective Wagner, what can I do for you?"
"I'm working on a case of what I think may be connected murders. I haven’t confirmed that they're all related, but I have reason to believe they are."
"Okay,” Agent Perigo said. "Do they have to do with a case I'm working on or someone here in this office?"
"Not exactly." Brett wasn't sure exactly how to start this conversation.
"Then why don't I connect you to someone who has more familiarity with the Portland area. I don't think I'll be very much help to you if this isn’t related to any of my cases."
Brett realized he wasn't going to be able to keep Paige's name out of it. In order to get Agent Perigo to focus on this, he was going to have to use the connection between the man's wife and Paige.
"No, this case isn’t directly related to your caseload, as far as I know. But I believe that the killer I'm tracking has a victim that got away. Her name is Paige Jeffries."
Perigo didn't say anything, but Brett could tell by the way the noise shifted that the other man was moving into a quieter space.
"You're looking into the Paige Jeffries attack?"
"I am."
"I'm assuming you're contacting me because you know the connection between her and me."
"Yes, I know she is your sister-in-law."
Silence met him on the other end for just a moment. "Do you know this because you're good at detecting or because Paige told you?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes, it does very much. If you're contacting me because you figured out on your own that I'm related to her by marriage and that the FBI might lend some resources to the case that you may not have, then that's one thing."
"And would that be a problem?"
"Absolutely not. I would use both my own personal resources and resources within the Bureau to help arrest the man who did that to Paige." Another length of silence. "But you're not hunting me down because of your detective skills, are you?"
"No," Brett said. "Paige told me that her sister's husband worked at the FBI."
"Well, I guess actually it doesn't matter because my offer is still the same. I'll do anything to help find Paige's attacker."
"Including using your wife's nontraditional profiling skills?"
"Well, now I know you're the one who's been talking to Paige. You didn't get that from any database search. Adrienne's work at the FBI is pretty classified."
"The one talking to Paige?"
"My wife and her sister are pretty close. Paige mentioned that she'd been spending time with a Portland detective. Someone she knew in high school.”
"Yeah, I guess that would be me."
"Spending time with her about the case or more than that? I didn't pry."
"Both."
"I'll be honest with you, Detective Wagner--"
Brett interrupted him. "Under the circumstances I'd appreciate it if you’d call me Brett. I'm not calling you in any official capacity."
"Likewise, Conner. I looked into this case when
it first happened. Did everything I could.”
"Which I'm suspecting wasn't much given its unsolved status. I haven't found much to go on either. At least as an isolated case."
"We looked at it in conjunction with other attacks, but didn't find anything. And, I have to be honest, the Portland PD wasn’t interested in much federal help on what was a local case. What have you found that made you think Paige's case is connected to some other attacks?"
"Not attacks. Murders. I think that Oregon might have a serial killer on the loose.”
“Why?”
Brett explained the payday details as well as the similarity between the women: unmarried, in their twenties, attractive despite having different hair colors. He also explained the problems: different locations, different methods of murder.
“How do you think this ties in with Paige?”
“All the victims were severely beaten in the face and head like Paige. I think Paige was meant to be a murder victim, but got away.”
“Damn,” Conner muttered.
Brett nodded. “And, of course, that picture she drew of herself.”
"The one of herself in the hospital that she drew a long time before the attack."
"You say that with pretty calm assurance. Most people around here found it difficult to believe that she could've drawn that with such eerie accuracy before the assault occurred."
"Well, let's just put it this way. Compared to what my wife can do, Paige's gift seems pretty tame."
"And exactly what can your wife do?"
Conner chuckled. "I could tell you, but you won't believe me. Or at least you won't believe quite as much as when you watch it yourself. I'll send you an electronic file with Adrienne at work. It's a sight to behold."
Brett could feel his eyebrow raise. "Can you at least give me a rundown?"
"Let's just say they used to call her the Bloodhound. Adrienne can sense and track people with evil intents. Get readings, so to speak, from items they've touched. The solving of dozens of cases, more, are directly attributed to her. And she doesn't even work full-time for the FBI."
Brett didn't push why Adrienne Perigo did not work full-time for the FBI, if she had such a gift. That wasn't his business.
"Paige has drawn more pictures. Not of herself, of another woman. A murder victim."
He heard Conner curse under his breath.
"And if I'm not mistaken," Brett continued. "Paige has more drawings that she hasn't shown me. What I'm pretty sure are other victims."
"She didn't have anything to do with the crimes, that much I can tell you. I made the same mistake of suspecting Adrienne as a criminal when I first learned what she could do. Thought she was in on it."
"Yeah, well, I've already rounded that corner. I don't believe Paige had anything to do with these crimes, but I don't believe many of my colleagues are going to support my theory if it comes down to it."
"So are you calling to see if my wife can come do her particular type of profiling for your case? I should warn you that Adrienne already tried everything related to Paige's case when it first occurred."
Brett rubbed his forehead. "No, I guess I was just looking for confirmation that everything I know about how law enforcement cases are solved might be incorrect."
Conner sighed. “Not incorrect. The Jeffries sisters will just force you to open your mind to other possibilities that might also be correct. But it does take some getting used to.”
No doubt about that.
Conner continued. "I have to admit I don't know Paige very well. Adrienne and I had just gotten married when the attack occurred and Paige hasn't really been interested in a lot of outside company since then."
"She draws these pictures in her sleep." It was difficult to even say the words out loud. "I know that sounds crazy, but I've seen it myself."
"Trust me when I say I understand. When Adrienne is sensing an object she goes into a sort of trance. Damn scary."
"I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse."
Conner chuckled. "All I had to do was open my mind to the possibility that it could work. Adrienne's track record pretty much spoke for itself."
"I'll go talk to Paige right away. Figure out what other pictures she might have that she hasn’t been willing to show."
Why would she? Every time she showed a picture to someone in law enforcement they either told her she was crazy or threatened to have her arrested.
“Good,” Conner said. “Use them. If this guy is a serial killer like you think, forget about whether it makes sense as to when or how these pictures were drawn. If this helps you catch this guy that's all that matters in the long run."
"And look," Conner continued. "I don't know if Paige is anything like Adrienne, but if she is then using this gift costs her. Physically takes a toll on her body. I'm able to help offset the physical price Adrienne pays, but I don't know that Paige has ever had that."
Brett had seen the physical demand the drawing had taken on her. Paige very definitely pays the price for these drawings.
"I'll do what I can to help her."
"And you're going to have to protect her. I don't think you're going to have any more doubts after you watch what Adrienne can do, but not everybody is going to believe. You've got to protect her from the people in your department who are going to want to make a judgment call without all the facts."
"It's understandable. I've seen her actually draw one of the pictures and I still can't believe it."
"You're going to have to run interference for her. You can't just bring these drawings into the station and expect everybody to not want to know where they came from."
"Believe me, I know."
“And if you’re right and her case is connected to a killer, then you’re going to have to be even more careful. Paige has never been in much danger because it's well known that she could not remember the face of her assailant. If he finds out she's working with you and she knows more than has been let on…"
"Then a murderer might be back on her trail."
Chapter Twenty-Two
Paige was pretty surprised when the security at the front gate announced that Brett was back. It was late afternoon and after how he looked when he left last night she wasn't sure she'd ever be seeing him again. His face. The way he'd been so torn. She knew that was only to be expected, after all he was a police officer and everything he did was based in logic. In fact.
Drawing murder victims in her sleep did not exactly lend itself towards the logic and fact side of things. She’d gotten his call last night. Had purposely let it go straight to voicemail because she couldn't bear to talk to him. He said that he’d call today, that he wasn't mad, that they would work this out.
But how could they? She felt like every time she saw him she dropped another bomb on him: I drew a picture of myself in a coma two months before it happened, I paint auras, I draw dead people in my sleep.
Her life wasn’t just like an episode of the Twilight Zone, it was like a whole damn season.
And the worst part was she still hadn't told him the worst part. Hadn't shown him. Had another bomb to drop on him.
She needed to show him the portfolio. The one full of pictures of the women she’d drawn. If he had thought seeing the one picture of Teresa Cavasos was hard, seeing them all really wasn't going to sit well with him.
Paige rubbed at the ache in her chest. There wasn't any way her relationship with Brett was going to survive this. She wasn't even sure how she was going to survive it.
Now that she knew how isolated she'd really become, how was she going to just go back to that?
Especially when the only person she really wanted to be around her was Brett. Everywhere she looked around this house now all she could think of was him. Of them. Of their lovemaking.
When she heard his knock on her door she didn't falter in her steps to it. Better to just rip the band-aid off. She would show him the pictures, all of them, and he would hopefully be able to use them in some way.
If Teresa Cavasos was a real person then maybe all the other drawings were real women also.
Paige rubbed her chest again. They were all dead. She knew that too. She might've always known that.
She braced her hand against the door frame, before opening it, taking a deep breath. She could survive this. She'd survived worse.
She opened the door to let him in. He looked at her so intensely she had to glance away, and couldn't stop the small flinch when his knuckles grazed her cheek gently.
"Are you okay?”
A loaded question. She couldn’t look her best, not after not sleeping all of last night. She'd stayed up for hours trying to draw. Trying to draw the way she did while she was sleeping. Trying to force her mind to come up with the images of the women she knew were in her subconscious.
It's hadn't helped. Hadn't done anything but exhaust her physically the way she'd already been exhausted mentally.
She felt Brett's arms slowly slide around her. There was nothing more she wanted to do than lean into his strength. To steal these moments while she could, because she knew soon enough they would be gone.
But she couldn't. It was time, past time, for her to show him the pictures she’d been hiding. At least with Brett she knew she wouldn't be arrested.
She pulled back from him. “There’s something I need to tell you. I know hearing those words from me have to send a chill up your spine, but it's important. And yes, strange.”
"There's more pictures, aren't there? That you’ve drawn. Other women.”
Paige's eyes flew up to his. "How did you know?"
"I figured it out sometime this morning. Something you said in passing last night."
"Yes, that's what I was trying to tell you."
He nodded. "I know. And I'm sorry that I didn't let you get it out, but honestly it was probably for the best. Sometimes I just have to process stuff in smaller doses.”
"I feel like I drop a bomb on you every time I see you."
His arms wrapped around her again and this time she did lean into his strength.
"My bomb shelter is pretty strong. But I will admit I do hope that this is the last one for a while. You’re not some sort of shape shifter or something, right?”
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