“No, but I…I would be glad to take a message.” She listened while the man gave his name and phone number, nearly dropping the phone when he explained why he was calling.
“I read the article in the newspaper this morning about Miss O’Neal and how she helped lead the police to Eugene Dalton before he could kill that girl. I wanted to see if she could help locate my mother. You see, she disappeared three years ago…”
When he was finished, Rennie promised to pass the message on and then quickly hung up. A numbing fear wound its way through her, strangling her, chilling her to the bone. She’d always avoided reading the newspaper because she was too sensitive to the stories covering violent crimes, especially those that included a picture of the victim. It wasn’t because she would link with them, but rather because she couldn’t.
She would get vague impressions of the crime and often take on the fear of the victim, but it was garbled and never made any sense. It was frustrating because she knew there was nothing she could do. Frightened but determined to find out what the man was talking about, Rennie made the short drive to grocery store and purchased a newspaper.
Her hands were shaking as she sat in her car, scanning each page carefully. On page four, she spotted the article. Psychic Bungles Murder Attempt, the headlines screamed. Her stomached knotted instantly, her heart thumping so hard she half expected it to break a rib or two.
The tone of the article wasn’t malicious in any way, but that did little to calm her shaky nerves. She was grateful that at least Angel’s name hadn’t been revealed; she was simply identified as a young college student, but Eugene Dalton’s name was given along with the woman who had foiled his attempt to kill his victim.
Rennie O’Neal, a psychic and local resident, contacted the police and reported the abduction. Reliable sources say she used her psychic abilities to lead Detective Mac Logan to the scene of the crime. There, in an old generator shed located on the college grounds, they discovered a campus security guard just minutes away from claiming the life of his latest victim. Eugene Dalton, who was injured when he resisted arrest, later escaped…”
Unable to read any further, she tossed the paper on the seat beside her and burst into tears. It was horrible, horrible, Rennie thought dismally. The man who called her was only the first of many who would hound her, getting their hopes up and expecting her to find their loved ones. How could she explain to them that it didn’t always work, that she was at the mercy of her psychic abilities and couldn’t just conger it up whenever she wanted?
They would ridicule and condemn her, eventually branding her as a fraud. She’d spent her entire life trying to keep a low profile and not draw attention to herself, and now everyone in the city knew her name, including Eugene Dalton. Rennie was so distraught she didn’t notice someone had approached the car and was startled by the light tap on her window and the sight of a man peering anxiously in at her.
“Is everything okay, Miss O’Neal?”
It must have registered just how badly he’d frightened her, because he stepped back and produced a police badge from his jacket pocket. “My name is Vince Tyler,” he told her, holding the badge up so she could inspect it. “I work with Mac Logan. I’m also the one who has been watching your house.”
Rennie wiped her eyes and rolled the window down, offering him a weak smile. “I’m fine, Mr. Tyler.”
He was a good ten years older than Mac, probably in his mid-forties, with salt and pepper hair and a kind face. But it was the fact that Mac had trusted him to watch out for her that alleviated any reservations Rennie had about him following her.
“The way you raced out of the house, I thought something upset you, and now I find you crying your heart out. You don’t look fine and you certainly don’t sound fine. Why don’t you tell me about it, maybe I can help.”
Rennie started to decline his offer, but the concern in his voice was genuine and there didn’t seem to be any reason not to tell him. She handed the newspaper over and waited a few minutes for him to scan the article.
“I’m fine, really,” she assured him. “Seeing my name in the paper just caught me off guard, that’s all. I don’t know who gave them my name. The article states they got their information from a reliable source. Reliable, maybe, but apparently pretty irresponsible in handing out that type of information. I suppose it could have been Mrs. Starr, but then it probably would have said the victim’s mother…” She stopped and drew in a shaky breath. “God, I’m babbling like an idiot.”
“Perfectly understandable,” he said with an encouraging smile. “I wonder if Mac knows about this.” He folded the paper and stuck it under his arm. “I think I’d better give him a call. Would you like me to follow you home first?”
“If you don’t mind,” she said gratefully.
She drove back to her house, desperately trying to get control of her emotions and actually did quite well until she was inside and no longer being observed by Vince Tyler. She headed for the stairs, intending to go to her room and lay down for a while, but the ringing of the phone stopped her. Rennie hurried into the living room, assuming Vince had made the call and that Mac was calling to check on her.
Her hand froze just above the receiver. She didn’t recognize the number that popped up on the Caller I.D. screen and didn’t welcome another call from someone needing her help. It was possible Mac was calling from a phone other than his own, but she doubted it. Yanking her hand back, Rennie turned and fled upstairs to her room.
Kicking off her shoes, she curled up on the bed. What was she going to do? She could change her phone number, but who knew how many people had already looked her name up and obtained her address? As a single woman, she had opted not to list her address in the phone book, but she knew enough about the internet to realize it wouldn’t take much for someone to do a search and come up with it. These days, pretty much anyone could pull up directions and even a satellite image of her house!
The thought of people appearing on her doorstep uninvited and then getting angry when she refused to come out of the house terrified Rennie. You need to calm down and think this through, she told herself. Maybe she was over reacting. After all, it wasn’t as if the article was on the first page and, for all she knew, the call that had just come in could have been one of the detectives she worked with or…
Rennie sat bolt upright when the phone rang again. She listened to the shrill sound, counting each nerve wracking ring with mounting fear and let out a relieved sigh when they gave up. No, they hadn’t given up, she realized; the answering machine would have kicked in after the sixth ring. She lay back down, but her head had barely hit the pillow when it rang again. It was too much. She jumped out of bed and dashed downstairs to turn the ringer off.
She stared at the flashing screen and was shocked to see there were nine messages waiting. Good Lord, how many people had called while she was at the store? It wasn’t even noon yet, how many more would come in over the course of the day? She reached out and pressed the mute button. At least with the ringer off, she could pretend that everything was normal.
***
There was an angry scowl on Mac’s face when he hung up after a brief conversation with Vince. “We need to pick up a newspaper,” he told Ryan. They had just finished eating lunch and were on their way back to the station when Vince called.
“I gather from your end of the conversation that the gag order on the precinct came a little too late?”
“Reliable source, my ass,” Mac fumed. “It had to have been the same cop who gave Rennie’s name to Mrs. Starr. Vince said she was crying her heart out and looked scared to death when he approached her car and tapped on the window.”
“Let’s get the paper before you call her,” Ryan suggested. “Maybe it’s not as bad as Vince made it sound.”
Mac wasn’t convinced. “You don’t believe that any more than I do. Hell, they just offered her up to Dalton like a sacrificial lamb. Vince is going to call in another man to watch the house from t
he next block over since he can’t keep an eye on both the front and back from where he’s parked. I think it’s time we kicked this investigation into high gear and came up with a more aggressive plan to find Dalton.”
“There are only two colleges north of here that are close enough to consider,” Ryan said. “We can put a few men at each one to patrol the campus at night as well as alerting the regular campus security.”
“We need to do more than wait around for him to show up. I want to go after him, scour the whole north side of town if we have to. He may not even come after Rennie, but I’m not taking any chances.”
Ryan nodded, his expression nearly as grim as Mac’s as he pulled up to a newspaper stand. A few minutes later, they were back in route to the station. Mac turned to the article and read it out loud, muttering several colorful oaths as he did so. It was bad enough that Rennie’s name was mentioned, but she was painted in such a glowing light, it was bound to bring a slew of people with missing friends or family members to her doorstep.
According to Vince, Rennie came unglued after reading the article but seemed to have pulled herself together by the time she returned home. He wished he could go to her, but there was too much work to do. Before he did anything else, he had to organize a task force so they could come up with a plan of attack to get Dalton off the streets.
“Home, sweet, home,” Ryan said dryly as he pulled into a parking space in front of the station. “I’ll go pan my work out to someone else and meet you back in your office in twenty minutes.”
Mac nodded thoughtfully. “See if you can get Michael in on this. I’ll ask the Captain to assign some men to watch the campus and then give Rennie a call to see how she’s holding up.”
They rode the elevator in silence and went their separate ways when they reached the Homicide Division. Mac headed straight for the Captain’s office and was irritated to find his door shut. He paced restlessly back and forth, ignoring the curious looks from the Captain’s secretary, his mind racing in ten different directions.
He needed to call Rennie, but first he had to make sure they got some men out to the colleges before night fell. Who knew what an animal like Dalton would do? He could be out there right now, scouting the campus for his next victim. Mac continued to pace, growing more aggravated by the minute. It was a good twenty minutes before the door opened, and by then he had worked himself into a fine temper.
A young officer stepped out looking as if he had just received a thorough lashing. It didn’t take a Rhodes Scholar to figure out this was the man who had jeopardized Rennie’s safety by spouting off to Mrs. Starr and the local papers. Mac stalked over to him, his hands balled into tight fists, his voice deceptively calm.
“Are you the one who gave out Rennie O’Neal’s name?”
“I don’t see that it’s any of your damn business,” the man snarled, making the grievous mistake of trying to brush past Mac. Mac’s eyes flashed dangerously just a fraction of a second before he grabbed a fist full of the officer’s shirt and slammed him against the wall.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“I didn’t think there would be any harm in…”
“Damn right you didn’t think,” Mac growled.
Captain Striker emerged from his office, eying the two men with apparent unconcern. “Calm down, Mac, and let Officer Thorpe go.”
Mac’s face was a mask of fury. “Not until he fully understands the extent of the damage he caused for Rennie.”
“He’s already been suspended…”
Mac wasn’t appeased in the least. “I guess you haven’t read the paper yet today, Captain.”
He continued to intimidate Thorpe with a murderous glare, silently daring him to make any move that invited a good old fashioned fist fight.
“An unnamed source told the media the whole story, including Rennie’s full name.” He shoved his fists even harder into the officer’s chest. “Do you think Dalton doesn’t read the papers? You think he won’t go after the woman responsible for leading the police to him?”
“He won’t go after her,” Thorpe ground out, “he’s probably hell bent and gone from here by now.”
“You’d better pray that he is,” Mac said, making no attempt to veil the threat as he shoved Thorpe aside. “Get out of my sight before I change my mind and beat the hell out of you.”
Thorpe glanced at Captain Striker and, correctly surmising he would get no help from that quarter, made a hasty retreat.
“I hope you gave him a nice long vacation,” Mac said, “because you’ll be putting me on suspension if I catch sight of him again before Dalton is brought in.”
Captain Striker walked back into his office. “I gave him two weeks, but I didn’t know about it hitting the papers. I think he’ll be much more discreet in the future if that two week suspension went without pay.” He sat down at his desk and waited for Mac to close the door. “How is Rennie taking it?”
“Not good. I haven’t talked to her yet, but Vince said she was pretty upset when she read it.”
“I don’t understand. Rennie doesn’t read the newspaper so how did she even know about it?”
Mac stared blankly at the Captain. “I’m not sure. I had no idea she didn’t read the papers. Maybe I’d better give her call right now. Something doesn’t seem quite right about this.”
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed her number, trying to quell the mounting alarm when it rang several times and then went to voice mail. He disconnected the call and tried again with the same results.
“She’s not answering.”
He called Vince and asked if Rennie had left the house again, breathing a little easier when Vince assured him that she was safely inside. Still, he didn’t like it that she wasn’t picking up the phone.
“Do me a favor, Vince. Go check on her and then ask her to call me.”
“Maybe she’s taking a nap,” the Captain suggested after Mac hung up with Vince.
“Maybe. She doesn’t have a phone in her bedroom so it’s possible she wouldn’t hear it if she’s sleeping. With everything that has happened, I should have thought to have her install one or at least get a cell phone so she could be reached no matter where she is.” Mac glanced down at the phone in his hand. “Vince should have called back by now.”
“It’s only been a few minutes. If she is sleeping, it may take him a few minutes to wake her. Tell me what was in that article.”
“It said she’d had a psychic vision about Angel, although they didn’t give out the girl’s name. The whole story was laid out; how she contacted me and then led me to Dalton; how she saved Angel’s life; and it mentioned Rennie’s full name. I could wring Thorpe’s neck for disclosing information about her.”
“Maybe we should consider moving her somewhere safer.”
Mac agreed, knowing he would feel better if he was able to check on her personally throughout the day. “I could set her up some place close to the station so I could get there faster if she needed me.”
Captain Striker chuckled. “Why don’t you just clear out a spot in your office so you can keep her within eye sight.”
“I’d jump on it if I thought for one minute she would agree to do it.” He walked over to the window, feeling restless and edgy and was just about to dial Vince again when the phone rang.
“You didn’t have to send Vince to check on me. I already told him I was fine.”
The tension lifted instantly at the sound of her soft voice. “Where you sleeping?”
“No, I…I was just up in my room and didn’t hear the phone.”
“You had me worried, honey. What made you go out and buy a newspaper anyway?”
“I got a phone call from a man…”
Mac’s heart leapt to his throat. “What man?”
“I don’t know, just a man. He said he read the article in the newspaper about how I’d used my psychic abilities to find a missing girl.” Rennie clutched the phone to keep her shaking hand from dropping it.
“He wanted me to help find his mother. I just had to see for myself what the article said and…oh, Mac, it’s just awful,” she sobbed.
In the back of his mind, Mac couldn’t help wondering if this male caller was Dalton and whether it was a trick of some sort to lure her away from the house. It scared the hell out of him to think she was being stalked by a cold-blooded killer, but he didn’t dare let her hear it in his voice.
“Calm down, sweetheart, everything is going to be okay.”
“No, it won’t,” she cried miserably. “The phone started ringing off the hook the minute I got back so I finally shut the ringer off. Don’t you get it? They’ll keep hounding me, and when they find out I can’t always find the people they’re looking for, it will turn into a nightmare!”
“It will be okay, I promise. You just…”
“No! I have to get out of here,” she said, anxiety and fear making it sound more like a plea than the adamant statement she was no doubt aiming for.
Mac kept his voice low and even, though his stomach knotted at the thought she might bolt and run off by herself. She sounded so scared, so alone, and it killed him that he couldn’t drop everything and go racing home to her. What she needed was to be held in his arms, but the best he could do was offer the assurance that she was safe even without him there to protect her.
“Listen to me, sweetheart, Vince is there so no one is going to bother you. As soon as I’m off work, I’ll find a hotel close to the station and you can stay there until this blows over.”
Rennie sniffed. “That could take weeks, months even. I can’t stay at a hotel that long.” She was starting to panic and the strain was wearing her out. “I think it would be best if I sold the house and moved to another city, maybe another state where…”
“The hell you will,” Mac growled. He saw the Captain’s eyes narrow in a silent warning but ignored it. “You’re going to do exactly what I tell you to or I’ll arrest you myself and place you under protective custody.” He drew in a deep breath and steadied his voice. “You are not alone anymore, Rennie. We’ll get through this together, I promise. Trust me, honey, can you do that?”
WHISPERS TO THE HEART Page 9
