Ties That Bind

by Anne Patrick

  "Let me help you." Austin came towards her.

  Embarrassed by her lack of restraint, she waved him off.

  Several minutes later she stood and found Austin standing only a few feet away watching her, his hands buried in his pockets. When she met his gaze he immediately glanced away, shifting in his stance. Then it dawned on her what was going on. As she recalled his reaction from the day before and his behavior earlier, she realized he had pointed out the wrong tree so as to test her.

  "You have some nerve! You pointed out the wrong location on purpose to test me," she accused, closing the distance between them. When he gave no reply, her anger grew. "How could you do that to me after all I've gone through today…and yesterday. Wasn't this enough proof for you?" Jo drew back the collars of her blouse, the deep scratches still swollen and painful.

  "I'm sorry, Jo, but I had to be sure. I barely know you. You could have—"

  "You barely know me," she repeated, her voice trembling. "I've told you more about myself than I tell the men I date. I can't believe you did this. What on earth were you thinking?"

  He reached out and attempted to take her hand, but she backed away from him. "Jo, listen to me—"

  "Just stay away from me. You're just like the others. You and your stinking macho attitudes, you think you have all the answers. Well I've got a quick newsflash for you, you don't. There are all kinds of unexplained mysteries in this world. For instance, why a seemingly normal person suddenly snaps and does unspeakable things they never conceived possible, or how I, of all people, can relive those horrors through the eyes of their victims."

  "Calm down, Jo, you're starting to scare me."

  "Scare you? You don't know what fear is. You've no idea what it's like, the things I see…and feel, or how hard it is to forget it."

  "No, I don't. But you have to understand, I've never met anyone like you before and it's pretty overwhelming. Put yourself in my shoes, Jo, how would you react?"

  Her glare softened, pondering his words, wanting to believe he was sincere.

  "Please, Jo, you have to believe me, I…we really need you on this investigation."

  She took a deep breath and exhaled, releasing some of the anger. "I stressed the other day the importance of trust between us if we've any hopes of catching this guy."

  "I know and I'm sorry I breached that trust, but I had to be sure, Jo. I had to see for myself that this thing…this gift of yours was something I could rely on as an investigator."

  "So are you convinced now, or do you need further proof that I'm not lying. If so we can always pay another visit to the first victim, she seemed to be the most convincing."

  "No," he answered softly, "I believe you."

  *****

  Austin waited until they were almost at the city limits to steal a glance at Jo. She'd sat quietly since leaving the dumpsite, feeding his guilt. He didn't blame her for being upset, but he had to do something to prove she wasn't a fake. He thought back briefly to their confrontation. The vulnerability he saw in her doe-like eyes had taken his breath away. Gone was the tough exterior she'd demonstrated since her arrival. She was like a wounded sparrow that had been caught in a violent storm. Exhausted and very frightened. The fact that she'd trusted him enough to share her secret brought deep regret. Trust was a precious thing between friends, even more precious between a man and a woman. Somehow he had to earn back hers.

  "Will you tell me what you were able to find out today?" he finally asked, praying this would be a good start.

  "I'll type up a report tonight and drop it by your office sometime tomorrow."

  "You're going to make me wait that long? What is this, my punishment for what I did to you back there?"

  "Don't be ridiculous, Austin. I'm not that vindictive. I just need some time to myself, to sort through it all."

  "Well, I'm not about to leave you alone, not after the day you've had. I've got to drop by the office for awhile, then we'll pick up some steaks at the store and I'll fix dinner for you."

  "That won't be necessary. I assure you I'll be fine."

  He turned to her, "Please, Jo. I feel terrible about what I did. This is the least I can do to make it up to you, and my daughter will be there in case you think we might need a referee."

  She smiled. "Can you even cook?"

  "Are you kidding me? Men all over town come to me for culinary advice."

  CHAPTER TEN

  So what's a little white lie? Besides, Austin was desperate. The look on Jo's face, the pain he felt he'd caused. He had to do something to make it up to her. Now as he watched her disappear into the ladies room, he tried to imagine what it must be like to see the things she said she does. Only he couldn't wrap his mind around it.

  It was one thing to watch her with a body, imagining her piecing together in her mind what may have taken place. But when he'd watched her at the dumpsite yesterday and listened to her give exact details of how the body had been dumped, only a fool would have taken her at her word.

  Jo's actions today, the way she'd been able to locate the exact spot where the body had been dumped after he had deliberately steered her wrong had all but convinced him she was telling the truth. Though he didn't fully understand it and was still a little unnerved by it, he believed without a doubt, she was able to see what no one else could. Today he saw, through her actions, her expressions, her fear, and her tears, what those women went through before they died.

  Her amazing and supernatural talent was never more apparent to him then when she exited the ladies room twenty minutes later and joined him in his office, quietly taking a seat across from his desk. Her drawn expression and the paleness of her face proved beyond a shadow of a doubt the anguish she'd gone through today.

  Austin reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and removed one of two bottles of pink liquid he kept on hand. Handing it to her, he offered a smile of support and hoped she'd someday find it in herself to forgive him for what he'd asked her to do. He took the shy grin she offered him as a good sign and watched as she unscrewed the lid and took a big gulp. Her small perfect nose crinkled at the foul taste and he quickly fetched a glass of water to chase it down with.

  "Thank you." She returned the bottle of Pepto Bismol.

  He placed it back in his desk, then began to sort through the stack of phone messages left on his desk. "This shouldn't take long."

  "That's fine." She scooted her chair sideways and placed her feet on the empty chair beside her. "Take your time."

  He couldn't help but wonder how many hours she'd spent in offices much like his and how many men like himself she'd mesmerized with not only her investigative skills but her beauty and personality.

  For the next hour, Austin worked to the gentle breathing of the woman who slept across from his desk. Every now and then he'd catch himself glancing up at her, amazed at her peaceful slumber, and wondered how she managed to escape the nightmares he suspected haunted her from time to time.

  Having to make some phone calls and not wanting to disturb Jo, he slipped from the room. The outer office was empty except for Walt, who manned the radio.

  Austin was in the middle of a call when the front door burst open and his daughter and another teenage girl came in, laughter lingering in their voices. He held a finger to his lips to silence them, then watched as they disappeared down the hall.

  They returned just as he'd hung up the phone. "Hey, Dad, did you know there's a woman sleeping in your office?"

  "Yes, Bailey, I do. You didn't wake her, did you?"

  "No. I doubt we could have. She looks pretty out of it. Who is she?"

  "Agent McDaniels. I mentioned her the other night," he said, recalling a brief conversation he'd had with his daughter the night before Jo's arrival.

  "She's the FBI agent! Funny, she doesn't look anything like you said she'd probably look like. She's very pretty."

  "Don't you have some homework you should be doing?"

  "I'm on my way over to Jesse's now to do it." Her
smile lingered. "I just stopped in to see if it'd be okay if I had dinner at her house?"

  "As long as her mother doesn't mind." He turned to his daughter's friend. "How are you, Jesse?"

  Jesse Lucas, a year older than Bailey and with a car of her own, had been Bailey's best friend since shortly after their arrival in Claremont. With similar interests in country music and a keen eye to the latest fashions, they'd been inseparable the past two years.

  "I'm fine, Sheriff and Mom don't mind. We told her what a rotten cook you were and she feels sorry for her."

  "Thanks a lot, girls."

  "So do you mind?"

  He immediately thought of his invitation to Jo. He had no problem with dining alone with a beautiful woman, but considering how upset she'd been with him earlier, he thought she might object.

  "I promise to be home by ten."

  "Nine." He compromised, figuring he could talk Jo into going out for pizza if she didn't want to be alone with him.

  "I'm almost sixteen, Dad. There isn't a teenager in Claremont that has to be home before ten."

  Before he could argue his point that it was a school night and being the sheriff, he knew what teenagers did until ten, the phone rang. Since Walt was busy with the radio, he was forced to answer it. Taking the prowler call, he jotted down the information and passed it along to Walt, who quickly dispatched the nearest patrol car to check it out. The next thing he knew, the girls were waving on their way out the door.

  While waiting for a response from the call he'd taken, he noticed Slim and Deputy Wilson enter and was about to greet them when a blood-curdling scream came from his office.

  "Who is that?" Slim asked.

  "Jo," Austin replied and almost knocked Slim over in route to his office.

  *****

  Jo's eyes jerked open at the sound of her own scream. Frightened and disoriented by her surroundings she stood, and when the office door flew open, she immediately reached for her weapon. Her eyes widened at the sight of Austin and Slim at each side of the door, guns drawn.

  Her cheeks grew warm as they put their weapons back into their holsters. "Sorry, guys." Making a fool of herself seemed to be growing into a habit.

  Slim spoke first. "Geez, Jo, you scared the living daylights out of us."

  "Are you okay?" Austin asked, moving into the room.

  Jo replaced her gun, nodding at the same time. "I had a nightmare."

  "I sort of gathered that." Austin took her by the arm and guided her back to the chair. "Sit down. I'll get you some water."

  "I'm okay, really." But her words did little to convince her wobbly legs, so she sat back down.

  "Here you go." Austin handed her a bottle of water.

  Her hand shook as she took it.

  "You gonna be all right?" Slim asked from the doorway.

  She smiled and nodded her head, then watched as he turned and left.

  "You want to talk about it?" Austin took a seat behind his desk, his eyes fixed on her.

  She loved his blue eyes. They were so warm and comforting. "Not really, but thanks anyway."

  He seemed about to speak when the phone rang. "Sheriff Garrett…Jo McDaniels…Yeah, she's right here." Austin handed her the phone. "It's for you. Someone named Lindsey, with the lab in Washington."

  "Lindsey?"

  "So tell me, is the sheriff there as handsome as he sounds on the phone?"

  Jo glanced across the desk to see Austin engrossed in a file. "Oh yeah," she assured her friend.

  "Let me guess…tall, dark, with bedroom eyes?"

  "You're right on the first and last."

  "He's a blond?"

  "Uh huh."

  "Be still my heart."

  Jo laughed. She could almost visualize her friend drooling.

  "You don't by any chance need any help there, do you?"

  "That would depend on what you have for me. That is why you called isn't it?"

  "Oh yeah. You probably ought to sit down for this. You're guy, he's a smooth one. I found traces of Flurazepam, otherwise known as Dalmane. Given by doctors as a sleep aid or muscle relaxant, it's soluble in water or alcohol. It's fast acting, usually within ten to twenty minutes. Here's the ringer; it can usually only be detected in the blood up to twenty-five hours after swallowing."

  "So our man knows his pharmaceuticals."

  "That's not all. I also found traces of Pavulon. It's very potent as a skeletal muscle nerve transmission blocker and, therefore, is given at very small doses, which makes it exceedingly difficult to detect in biological fluids and tissues. It is primarily used in intubation for artificial breathing, and in general surgery. My guess is he slips them the Dalmane and then before they come to, he injects them with the Pavulon."

  "So the victim would be conscious as to what is happening but unable to respond, physically or vocally?"

  "Pretty sick, huh?"

  "Yeah." Jo sensed she was being watched and glanced up to see Austin's gaze fixed on her. Not wanting to keep him in suspense any longer, she said, "I need to get off here, Lindsey."

  "Okay. I'll send you the fax as soon as I hang up. Now, don't you go getting yourself into any trouble while you're there."

  "I'll be careful."

  "I was referring to the sheriff."

  "That, too." She hung up and met Austin's gaze. "The women were drugged with Dalmane and Pavulon. Both muscle relaxants, the later, a paralyzing drug used during surgery."

  "Which explains the lack of defensive wounds?"

  She nodded. "They couldn't have fought back if they wanted to."

  "Why didn't they show up in the tox screens?"

  "Neither is easy to detect unless you're looking for them, which is why I wanted Lindsey on board. She's very thorough, the best I've ever worked with." Jo took a drink of water.

  "He could be meeting them at a bar and slipping the first drug into their drinks," he surmised.

  "It's possible. Stephanie Harrison was engaged, though. I doubt she'd have gone to a bar alone. Besides I got the sense she was frightened before she was even given the drug."

  "Did you get the same feeling with the others?"

  "No, only her."

  "So he could have met the others at a bar?"

  Jo nodded, then took another drink of water, the effects of her nightmare slowly wearing off.

  "What else did you learn today?"

  She'd hoped for more time to process the feelings and emotions she'd picked up on today, but knowing he was desperate for more answers, she decided to give into his prodding. "He knew the last victim was a mother. I sensed more remorse with her than I did the others."

  "You can sense what he's feeling, too?"

  "Sometimes. Later on, once I know all their backgrounds I'll be able to learn more about him and what's driving him to kill. But right now I can only go by what I'm able to pick up in the visions."

  "Yesterday you said they'd been transported to the dumpsite in a van but you didn't offer any description, yet you know he carries the string in a bag in his right pocket. Why so much detail on one and not the other?"

  "I don't know. I think it has something to do with the victim's emotions and reactions on how much I'm able to see. For instance, I hardly picked up anything about the killer with the others. The first victim was angrier and much stronger, though, which would explain why I was able to pick up more from her."

  "Okay, so we know he's intelligent, familiar with pharmaceuticals, has a van, owns a blue tarp and is right-handed."

  Her eyes leveled on him. "I know it doesn't sound like much."

  "It's a lot more than we had."

  "Well, then, how about showing me some appreciation and feeding me. It's after six and I'm starved."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Austin's home was nothing like Jo expected. Unlike most bachelors she knew, he was a neat housekeeper. The yard and flower garden outside the two-story colonial were trimmed and well kept. Inside it was almost immaculate, putting her own house to shame.
/>   The living room was large and inviting with antique white walls that were accented with a purple border along the ceiling. A large bay window provided enough light for her to scan his vast CD collection consisting mostly of country music. Mingled in were a few of her favorite rock groups from the seventies and eighties. So he wasn't completely without taste.

  Jo paused next to the large, tan, three sectional divan and peered over the half dozen photos lining the mantle of the fireplace. Most were of Austin and his daughter, who favored her father right down to the blonde hair and blue eyes.

  Her heels clicked against gleaming hardwood floors as she followed Austin through the house and into the kitchen, which she found to be just as inviting. The curtains covering the large window over the double sink were yellow; matching the sunflower border paper and tan walls. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen a sink completely empty of dirty dishes. Either he was a clean freak or his daughter was the most perfect teenager on the face of the earth.

  Off to the right of the kitchen was a pair of glass doors that led out onto a dark redwood patio situated several feet above the fenced back yard. Matching redwood furniture was scattered around the deck.

  "What do you think?" Austin asked at the end of the tour.

  Jo glanced at him as he leaned against the rail of the patio. "It's lovely and so clean. Please tell me you have a maid?"

  He laughed. "I have a woman who comes in twice a week. Otherwise, the place would look like a disaster zone."

  "Thank goodness. I was afraid you had Martha Stewart locked in the basement," she teased.

  *****

  After putting the steaks on the grill, Austin fixed them a glass of tea and they sat down at the kitchen island made of oak. Jo had been tempted to ask the whereabouts of his daughter, but figured she was probably at a friend's and was due home anytime.