Sense of Evil - Kay Hooper [14]
“Yeah. And so?”
“Our theory is that psychics are able to tap into electromagnetic fields. The earth has them, every living thing has them, and many objects seem to absorb and hold them. Think of it as a kind of static electricity. Some people get shocked more often than others. I get shocked a lot.”
“Are you getting shocked now?”
Isabel straightened and brushed the dirt off her hand. She was frowning slightly. “It'd be easier if the clairvoyant bits came in neon, but they don't. That cluttered attic. That noisy party in the next room. In the end it's usually just a jumble of information, stuff I could have read or heard or been told.”
Rafe waited for a moment, then said, “Except?”
“Except . . . when the information comes in the form of a vision. That is in neon. Sometimes in blood.”
“Not literally?”
“Afraid so. It's rare for me, but it does happen from time to time. In the case of a murder, it's as if I become the victim. I see or hear—or sometimes feel—what they do. While they're being killed. I'm told it's a bit startling to watch. Don't freak out if it happens, okay?”
“You're telling me you actually bleed?”
“Sometimes. It fades away pretty fast, though. Like I said, don't let it bother you.”
“Don't let it bother me? Cops see blood, Isabel, we tend to freak out. In a controlled, professional manner, of course. We take it as a signal that it's time to do our job.”
Her eyes sharpened abruptly, and she smiled. “Well, if you see blood on me, resist your instincts. Chances are, it'll belong to somebody else.”
“In Hastings, chances are it'll be yours. Unless you want to color your hair for the duration.”
“Wouldn't help. He already knows.”
“Knows what?”
“He's already seen me, Rafe. One of the clairvoyant bits I've picked up. I'm on his A-list.”
3
“GODDAMMIT, YOU TOLD ME being bait for this bastard wasn't the idea.”
“It wasn't the plan. It was always a possibility, of course, but it wasn't the plan.”
“Isabel—”
“Besides, it isn't that clear-cut. I said I was on his A-list, but I'm not next. He gets to know his victims before he kills them, Rafe. He doesn't know me. Not yet. And he won't come after me until he does. Or thinks he does.”
“Are you willing to bet your life on that?”
She didn't hesitate. “To catch this bastard? Yes.”
Rafe took a step toward her. “Have you reported it to your boss? Does he know you're on the A-list?”
“Not yet. I'm scheduled to report in later today. I'll tell him then.”
“Will you?” His doubt was obvious.
Isabel chuckled. “Rafe, our unit is made up of psychics. You don't keep secrets, or withhold vital bits of information, when half the team can read your mind. Very few of us have been able to keep anything important from Bishop no matter how far away we were.”
“Have you?”
Isabel took a last look down at the ground where Tricia Kane had died, then started toward him with a slight gesture to indicate they might as well walk back to his Jeep. “I thought so once. Just after I first joined the unit. I thought I was being very clever. Turned out he'd known all along. He usually does.”
Rafe didn't say anything else until they were in the Jeep and he had turned the air-conditioning on full-blast. “The simplest thing to do,” he said, “is to have you recalled and somebody else sent down here. Somebody who won't draw this bastard's attention.”
“The simplest thing,” Isabel said, “is not always the smartest thing.”
“I am not going to stand by while you're dangled on a goddamned hook.”
“I told you, I'm not next on his hit parade. But somebody else is. Some woman is walking around in your town right now, Rafe, and a killer is stalking her. My partner and I are up to speed on this investigation. Bishop thought we were the best team to send down here, and his success rate, our success rate as a unit, is over ninety percent. We can help you catch him. Send me back, and the next team has to start from