Sense of Evil - Kay Hooper [58]
Just as Isabel had said.
She hadn't exactly thrown a gauntlet at his feet, but Alan nevertheless felt challenged to somehow best the federal agent. And Rafe, of course. It would be nice, he thought, to get the upper hand with Rafe.
Just once, for Christ's sake.
The problem was, Alan hardly had access to the sort of databases of information the police and feds could command. But there was one thing he did have, and that was knowledge of this town and its people.
The question was, could he use that?
He wasn't able to speak to Mallory as he left the station, since she wasn't there, so he didn't know whether to expect a visit from her tonight. After last night, he figured he probably wouldn't see her for days; whenever she showed him any signs of vulnerability—falling asleep in his arms would definitely be listed in that column, he knew—she tended to retreat for a while both literally and figuratively.
In any case, he had learned the hard way not to plan his days or nights around her. He got in his car at the station and checked his watch, debating silently, then started the car.
It was time he tapped all his sources.
4:45 PM
Rafe had a hunch Isabel's explanation contained a but, so he asked. “But?”
“But . . . we've encountered serial killers before who also happened to be psychic, so the two aren't exactly mutually exclusive. In fact, some researchers believe that serial killers and psychics have something in common: an unusual amount of electromagnetic energy in the brain.”
“Which means?”
“Which means we are or could be kindred spirits, scary as that sounds. The excess energy in a psychic seems to activate an area of the brain most people don't appear to use, an area we believe controls psychic abilities. The energy in a serial killer tends to sort of go wild, building up in different areas of the brain, especially in the rage center, and since it has no way to be channeled, you end up with synapses misfiring right and left. Burned-out or overloaded areas of the brain could trigger the compulsion to kill.”
“So that's one theory.”
“One of many. And that theory holds something else to be a possibility. That a serial murderer can also become psychic. Which comes first in that case, the psychic ability or the insanity, is still an open and much debated question.”
“Does it matter?”
“Well, yeah, for some of us.” Her voice was light. “I hear voices, Rafe, remember?”
“Voices you don't attribute to God or a demon. Voices that don't command you to kill.”
“Not even on the worst day yet, I'm happy to say. So far, so good.” She shook her head slightly. “But returning to the point—a psychic killer is possible.”
“Would you know? I mean, could you tell if that were the case?”
“Not necessarily. Psychics can often recognize each other as psychic, but not always.”
“Shields,” he said, remembering what Hollis had told him. “Yet another instance of the mind protecting itself.”
“Hollis said she mentioned that.” Isabel didn't seem disturbed by it. “And it is one reason we don't always recognize each other. Also, nonpsychic people frequently develop shields of their own, for privacy or protection, especially in small towns where everybody tends to know everybody else's business. It's a lot more common than you might think. Hell, I could talk to the killer every day, never knowing he's the murderer and never picking up psychic ability—or psychotic voices in his head.”
For the first time since he'd returned, she sounded tired, and it made him say, “How close are Mallory and Hollis to finishing up?” He was about to suggest calling one of them, but Isabel automatically used a more direct line of communication.
“They are . . .” She frowned, concentrating. “. . . at the last property on the list, I think. What used to be a gas—” Her face changed, tightened.
Watching her, Rafe was conscious of the same uneasiness he'd felt in Jamie's “playhouse.” She was somewhere else, somewhere distant from here. He wanted to reach over and touch her, anchor