“When haven’t I trusted you?”
“For the past week, at the very least,” I told him. “Ever since I walked in here with that notepad it has been like pulling teeth to get you to listen to me.”
“Yeah, well, I thought I had a damn good reason for that.”
“Fine. I’m willing to accept that. But start adding it up, Ben. How much more do I have to do to prove to you that I’m right? Do you really still have reason to keep shutting me out on this?”
“You mean besides the fact that you ain’t a copper and have no authority here?”
“That’s never stopped you from listening before.”
“I promised Felicity.”
“And we saw how that ended up, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, well that wasn’t entirely my fault.”
“I didn’t say it was.” I shook my head. “It was nobody’s fault. But it’s a moot point anyway. All the promises in the world aren’t going to keep these nightmares out of my head.”
“But if I keep ya’ out of it, I can keep ya’ safe.”
“Not from the visions, you can’t.” I shook my head.
“That’s Felicity’s end of the deal.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I just handle what I can see.”
“That’s just it. It’s not what you see that’s doing the harm. It’s what I see,” I appealed. “And even she can’t protect me from these things, Ben. I think you’ve both realized that by now. If you haven’t, then you’re blind.”
“Jeezus, Rowan.” He shook his head and rested one hand on his hip while sending the other up to smooth back his hair and begin massaging his neck. “Man, if I had a freakin’ time machine…”
“You’d do what? No, let me guess. You’d go back in time and never get me involved in the Ariel Tanner case?”
“Yeah, somethin’ like that.”
“We’d still end up right where we are now, Ben.” My voice softened as I spoke. “She was a friend of mine, and I would have gotten involved anyway. You know that. If you hadn’t shown up that night to ask me about the Pentacle at the crime scene maybe someone else would have. Or I would have heard about it somewhere. Even I don’t believe in pre-ordained destiny, but I know I was meant to do this. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have these visions.
“You need to get over this guilt of yours. The real truth is that neither of us is responsible for this. I know you don’t necessarily believe it, but there’s something bigger at work here, and it’s what keeps dragging me into these things; not you-or even me for that matter. And whether either of us like it or not, that’s my problem, not yours.”
“Yeah, tell that to my conscience.”
“That is your problem, not mine,” I told him with a grin.
He huffed out a heavy sigh. “Shit, white man, every time ya’ get involved in an investigation we end up arguin’ about somethin’.”
“It’s been a bit worse this time around, hasn’t it?” I acknowledged. “Good thing we’re friends.”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “So why the hell do we do this?”
“Probably because we’re both strong-willed individuals who, although we’re seeking the same result, have diametrically opposed ways of going about achieving it.”
“You have been hangin’ around my sister too much.” He returned his own grin.
“So have we cleared the air?” I asked after a moment.
“I’m still not exactly happy with ya’ blindsidin’ me in there like ya’ did,” he returned.
“Would it help if I apologized?” I asked.
“Right now? Not much. Later, prob’ly.”
“I can live with that,” I said. “So can we get back to the business at hand?”
He gave me a long, hard look then rubbed his chin with the back of his hand before pointing a finger at me. “Can ya’ do this without Felicity here ta’ nail your foot ta’ the floor?”
“Yeah, I should be okay.”
“Don’t try ta’ snow me.”
“I’m not,” I answered with genuine sincerity. “We’re not talking about channeling a spirit here, just a bit of interactive hypnosis. There really shouldn’t be a big problem.”
“What if the stuff she remembers is graphic? Couldn’t that be a problem?”
“It probably will be graphic,” I conceded. “But apparently not violent. She’s alive and she obviously wasn’t tortured or anything, so it should be okay.”
“Nothin’ funky?”
“Well,” I shrugged as I spoke, “depending on what I see, it could get a little spooky.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” he nodded. “Better let me fill McLaughlin in before this goes any farther.”
“So you’re actually going to let me try it my way?”
“I dunno yet,” he said. “Lemme think about it.”
CHAPTER 20
Detective McLaughlin was only inches from colliding with us as we entered through the squad room door on our way back to the interview room. There was an almost wild look contorting her face, and the level of energy she was exuding was physically palpable.
“Whoa!” Ben jumped back, juggling a pair of hot coffees. He had stuffed the unopened can of soda into his pocket. “Where’s the fire?”
“Forget about Hodges,” Charlee announced the matter-of-fact statement. “She’s gone.”
“Do what?” Ben exclaimed. “Whaddaya mean gone?”
“She left,” she continued, obviously worked up about something. “You guys weren’t gone for two minutes, and she bolted. Said she was sorry, but all she wanted to do is tell me she remembered something about a dress.”
“It wasn’t because of me was it?” I asked.
“I doubt it,” she spoke in a rapid fire staccato, her voice building into a near frenzy. “She was still way too spooked when she showed up. I’m surprised she stayed as long as she did to be honest. But anyway, that’s not important.”
“Not important? But…” Ben started to object.
“No, listen to me.” Charlee shook her head vigorously and gestured. “I just now got off the phone with University Hospital. They’ve got a thirty-two-year-old blonde rape victim sitting in Emergency right now.”
Ben stopped cold and looked at her. “You pretty sure it’s our guy?”
“Can’t be positive, but according to the doc, her neck is bruised up, and she can’t remember where she’s been since Saturday night.”
Ben quickly looked around for a place to dispose of the drinks he was carrying. Finding none, he shoved the cups of coffee into the hands of a uniformed officer who was walking past, giving no explanation other than a muttered, “Here. Merry Christmas.”
His attention remained focused on Charlee, and I could almost feel the surge of adrenalin that kicked into him as he ramped up to her level. We were already hurrying through the sex crimes squad room as he spoke, “Get the CSU on the horn now. Tell ‘em ya’ need an evidence team at this woman’s residence immediately if not sooner. We need ta’ hit this before anyone can screw with the scene.”
“Already done,” she answered as we jogged.
“Did they tell ya’ who’s runnin it?”
“No.”
“Call ‘em back and tell ‘em ya’ want Murv. I don’t care if they hafta drag his ass outta the shower or what. We want the best on this, and I’d almost swear that guy could lift a print off a fuckin’ puddle of water if he had to.”
“Got it.”
“I’ll go check in upstairs and let ‘em know what’s up, then we’ll meet you out back. I’ll drive.”
“See you in ten,” she told us as she peeled off toward her desk.
“Make it five,” Ben called after her.
I had to break into a near run to keep up with my friend as he hooked around the desks and shouldered open the door leading to the stairs.
“Why are we in such a rush,” I asked, following him through into the stairwell but lagging behind as he took the stairs two at a time.
“Because I wanna get ya’ together with the victim while everything’s still fresh,” he said.
“This is kind of an about-face. I thought you were still a bit leery about all that.”
“Oh, I am,” he called down. “I’m just taking my turn.”
“What?”
“My turn,” he repeated, his voice starting to fade in the distance as it echoed from the concrete walls. “You said it was my turn ta’ trust ya’ for a change. Well, I’m gonna trust ya’ ta’ figure out who the sick asshole is that’s doin’ this.”