Sense of Evil - Kay Hooper [117]
“Good work,” Rafe told her. “You and Dustin.”
“Thanks. I'll tell him you said so. And I'll send up the report when he gets back and I finish up with the car.”
As they left the basement garage of the police station and headed upstairs to the offices, Isabel said, “A diversion. That accident happened only a couple of miles from the Brower house; the patrol on watch outside would have been the closest squad car.”
“I wonder if he aimed McBrayer's car at one he could see coming or just trusted to luck he'd hit something or someone eventually?”
“I don't think our boy trusts much to luck,” she said. “Finds a dark, straight stretch of road in a little-frequented area, sets up the car with McBrayer passed out inside. And waits until he sees headlights. By the time the other driver even saw the car coming at her, it was too late.”
“The pay phone he called Emily from was only a few blocks from the scene of the—accident. He probably waited for the patrol car to pass him, then called her.”
“I have the feeling that killing two more people just so he could lure Emily out was another of his taunts: Look at me, look how clever I am.”
“You don't think it was a personal grudge against McBrayer?”
“No, I think he was convenient. From what I got talking to Ginny last night, her father's Sunday-night binges were hardly a secret around here. The killer found McBrayer, maybe even followed him to one of those basement bars you talked about. Then all he had to do was wait for his mark to pass out or be thrown out.”
“And use him as a tool to get what he wanted. Emily.” Rafe grasped her arm to stop her as they entered the hallway leading to the conference room. “Tell me something. Truthfully.”
“Sure, if I can.”
“He'll come after you next.”
“Maybe. Probably. Especially if the news breaks that I'm psychic. He'd view that as an increased threat, I think.”
“Will he wait a week?”
Isabel hesitated, then shook her head. “I'd be surprised if he did. Emily was damage control; she knew something he didn't want her to tell. Or at least he believed she did. I'm guessing something about that box of photographs.”
“But you he wants.”
“Even without the psychic nudge, yeah. Me and the last blonde on his list, whoever she is. And he's moving faster, getting sloppy. We shouldn't have found jack marks on that car, far less a bit of rope that didn't belong in it. He's feeling pressure, a lot of it. Whatever is driving him is driving him hard.”
Rafe hesitated, but they were alone, and he finally said, “Whatever happened earlier did open up the shield for you, didn't it?”
“A bit. But the voices are still distant.” She looked at him steadily. “There's still a part of you I can't get at.”
“I trust you,” he said.
“I know. You just don't trust you.”
He shook his head. “I don't get it.”
Isabel had to smile. “I'm not surprised. See, I think I figured out something. We both have control issues and we both know it. The difference is, I don't trust someone else to run the show, and you don't trust yourself to.”
“That's a control issue?”
“Yes. I have to learn to let go, to trust someone else without giving up who I am. And you have to learn to trust yourself in order to be who you need to be.”
Somewhat cautiously, Rafe said, “Are you channeling this Bishop of yours?”
“I know how it sounds, believe me. Why do you think I've been fighting this so hard? But the truth is, neither one of us has enough faith in ourselves.”
“Isabel, that sounds to me like something that will take time to get itself resolved. We don't have time.”
Isabel began moving down the hallway toward the conference room. “No, we don't. Which is why we'll have to take care of our issues on the fly.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“Don't worry. If there's anything I've learned in the