He knew that.
He had known that for a long time.
He even knew why he had been unable to do so, though it was not something he allowed himself to consider very often.
As badly as he wanted to find the victims of the crimes he investigated, as badly as he wanted to find those who were lost and in pain and terror, there was a part of him that dreaded and even feared what it cost him.
He felt what they felt.
And their terror, their doomed agony, pulled him into a hell of torment that was a memory he couldn't bear.
The bedroom was very quiet and semidark when Lucas came out of the bathroom. He checked the door again, just to be sure, then slid his weapon under the pillow beside Samantha's and got in that side of the bed. The lamp on his side was on low, and he left it that way.
He lay beside her for a long time, staring at the ceiling. Then he felt her shiver and, without hesitating, turned toward her and pulled her into his arms.
"Still cold," she murmured, unresisting.
He pulled her a bit closer, frowning, because her skin wasn't cold, it was just this side of feverish. And he had the sudden, unsettling realization that the cold place Samantha tapped into to use her abilities, the place a brutal animal had awakened with violence, was as hauntingly dark and tormenting as anything he had ever experienced.
And, for her, inescapable.
CHAPTER 16
Wednesday, October 3
Caitlin Graham honestly didn't know why she was still involved in the investigation of kidnappings and murders. Why she wanted to be here, and why they allowed it. She thought of herself as the only civilian in the bunch, despite Samantha's lack of law-enforcement credentials; the other woman clearly understood the procedures involved, as well as possessing an obvious investigative knack.
"The only thing we have that even remotely resembles a lead," she was saying now, "are those ATV tracks the CSU found up at the mine this morning."
Looking over a printout he'd just received, Lucas said, "Preliminary report is that the vehicle is likely to be a Hummer, just like we've been driving up there."
Wyatt grunted. "We have four in the motor pool. Other than those of us who have to patrol in the mountains around here, they aren't all that common-though more so than they used to be."
"Impressive TV ads," Caitlin said. "And they're on some high-profile TV shows. So now they're sexy."
The sheriff agreed with a rueful nod.
"Still out of reach of most car owners, though," Lucas noted. "And still pretty rare. I'm getting a list covering owners in every state in which there's been a kidnapping, including this one."
"And then?" Wyatt inquired.
"Hoping a name will jump out at one of us," Lucas replied with a sigh.
"Would he be driving with an out-of-state tag?" Jaylene wondered aloud. "Wouldn't it make him look even more conspicuous?"
"At this time of year?" Wyatt shook his head. "Place is full of tourists, especially in October. They come to hike, look at the leaves, camp. Even with all the publicity lately-or maybe because of it-the numbers I'm seeing are up over last year."
"Lost in a crowd of strangers," Samantha murmured.
"My bet," Lucas said, "is that he only drives the Hummer when he has to. When he's moving around here in town, he'll have something a lot more ordinary and inconspicuous."
"Bound to," Wyatt agreed.
"Look," Jaylene said, "he can't be staying at any of the motels in town, right?"
"Unlikely," Lucas said. "He's a loner; he won't be around other people any more than he has to."
"Okay. And so far, he's been leaving his victims in remote areas, mostly up in the mountains. But he knows we've been searching those places, at least the ones on our list of possibles, which is probably why he hid Wyatt away in a mine that wasn't on any of our maps and that no one remembered."
"Big assumption," Wyatt said. "The mine must have been on his list, otherwise he wouldn't have had time to get his guillotine up there."
She nodded, a bit impatiently. "Yeah, but that's not what I'm thinking. He has to be staying somewhere during all this. We've had rangers and cops checking campers and hikers since we got here, obviously with no luck, but he has to know what we're doing."
"He's watching," Samantha said.
Jaylene nodded again. "He's watching. So he won't put himself in a position to be noticed or questioned. And he won't be too far away, not any more often than he has to be. Which means he can't be sitting in a cozy tent off the marked campsites and trails way up in the mountains. He has to be close. Most of the time, he has to be close."
"Pretending to be a member of the media?" Caitlin guessed. "Lost in that crowd of faces?"
Lucas considered, then shook his head. "He's too focused on his game to be able to act a part, and he'd know that. But I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't tried to talk to a journalist at least once in order to get information. Probably after those periods when he'd been occupied by a kidnapping."
Wyatt lifted his brows. "I can put a few people to questioning the media-if you don't think it might tip our hand in some way."
Lucas didn't have to consider that. "I think we need to get as much information as fast as we can."
Samantha was looking steadily at him. "You feel it too. Time's running out."
He returned her stare, nodding slowly. "You were right-we beat him yesterday. And he is not going to want that hanging over his head for long."
"Another kidnapping so soon?" Wyatt said. "Christ."
"If we're lucky," Lucas said, "he'll act out of haste, or at least out of anger, make a move before he takes the time to work out all the details. Because that's the only way we're going to catch this bastard-if he slips up."
He had no idea how much those words would come to haunt him.
"What're you, made of iron?" Quentin inquired somewhat irritably as Galen continued to pace from window to window in the living room of the small house rented for the duration. "Get some rest, for Christ's sake. They're all together and watching each other's backs; we need to sleep while we can." He had been trying to follow his own advice, stretched out on a rather lumpy couch.
"Something's wrong," Galen said.
"Yeah, there's a kidnapping murderer on the loose. Got the memo."
Ignoring the characteristic sarcastic humor, Galen merely said, "I thought you were supposed to be precognitive."
"I am."
"And you can't feel that something is about to happen?"
Quentin sat up and eyed the other man. "None of my senses are telling me anything except that I'm tired as hell. Comes of tramping over half a mountain and then spending the night on guard."
"You didn't need to watch Sam; Luke was with her."
"Habit. Besides, I couldn't sleep. Then. I'd like to now, if you don't mind."
Galen moved from a side window to the front one and stood to one side of it as he peered out.
Still watching him, Quentin said, "If we're seen during the day, it could blow our cover. Well, mine, at least. You blended nicely into the carnival these last weeks."
A flicker of amusement showing briefly on his harsh face, Galen said, "Jealous?"
"Didn't you want to run away and join the circus when you were a boy?"
"No. Wanted to run away and join the army. Which I did." He paused, eyes narrowing as he gazed out the window. "As with most fantasies, it turned out that reality wasn't nearly as much fun as what I'd imagined."
Quentin was about to take the opportunity to further explore his taciturn companion's rather mysterious past when fate intervened, in the form of one of the flashes of knowledge with which his ability often gifted him. He went perfectly still, concentrating.
Galen turned his head, eyes still narrowed. "Something?"
"Oh," Quentin said. "Shit."
"What?"
"We need to get to the carnival."
"Why?"
"Games," Quentin said. "He likes games."