“Struck me too. But, hey, melting pot.”
“I guess.” Hollis studied her partner. “So when Rafe went to break the news to Emily’s parents, he left two of his uniforms watching you.”
“They’re not to let me out of their sight. I heard Rafe tell them so. He made damned sure I heard him tell them so.”
“Well… you could be next, Isabel.”
“I can’t work hobbled,” she said irritably.
“Then take the hobbles off,” Hollis suggested mildly. “And I don’t mean the watchdogs.”
“Don’t start spouting Bishop stuff at me, all right? I’m not in the mood. It’s hot, it’s humid, there’s a storm building, and all I can smell is blood.”
Hollis grimaced. “Yeah, I was going to ask-how do we turn the spider senses off?”
“We don’t. Once you learn to enhance, the increased sensitivity is pretty much always with you. There are a few team members who have to focus and concentrate, but for most of us it’s just there. Like raw nerves.”
“That might have been mentioned before I was taught how to enhance.”
“Talk to the boss, not me.”
“You really are in a rotten mood, aren’t you?”
Isabel pointed to the blood-soaked ground several yards away. “This should not have happened,” she said. “I should have seen it coming.”
“You did. You warned us Emily was a possible victim, and Rafe did everything he could to protect her. It’s not your fault or his that a drunk caused a fatal traffic accident.”
“That’s not what I mean. I should have been… tuned in. I should have been listening. Instead, I did just what you said I did-I let Rafe take control. I let him build this shield around my abilities. I went from needing to have absolute control over everything in my life to just… handing it over to him. Why in God’s name did I do that?”
“You didn’t hand over all control. You just let him shut off your abilities.”
“Why?”
“Maybe to find out if he could.”
Isabel stared at her, baffled. “Okay, if that’s Bishop stuff, it doesn’t make sense. I mean even more than his stuff sometimes doesn’t make sense.”
“You’re a strong woman, Isabel. You don’t want to be dominated, but you do want to be matched, if only subconsciously. I think you felt Rafe reaching through this link you guys have, and I think you needed to know, before you decided whether to commit yourself, before you could take that leap of faith, just how strong he was.”
“And now that I do know, O wise one?”
Hollis smiled faintly at what was only a token stab at mockery. “Now you know he matches you. He has as much strength of will as you, possibly as much psychic ability as you, and is certainly as stubborn as you.”
“So?”
“So stop fighting him. You haven’t said, but I’m willing to bet Paige told you that the two of you would have to work together to control his shield.”
“Rookies,” Isabel muttered.
“I’m right.”
“Yeah.”
“Then I’d say there’s one last little bit of control you’ll have to give up. You’ll have to stop trying to control the relationship. To guide, or aim, or shape it-whatever it is you’ve been trying to do since the moment you met Rafe. If you’ll forgive the cliché, we don’t master love, it masters us. The more you struggle against it, the tighter those hobbles are going to be.”
“This should not be about my relationship with him,” Isabel said in a last-ditch effort. “Four women are dead in Hastings, five if you count Hope Tessneer, and more are missing. It can’t all hinge on my love life, it just can’t.”
“Human relationships are at the heart of everything, you know that. You said yourself they were at the heart of this case. It’s about relationships, you said.”
“Maybe I didn’t know what I was talking about.”
“You knew. You know. Relationships matter, Isabel. History’s been changed by them, armies toppled, societies rebuilt.”
Isabel was silent, frowning toward the bloody ground.
“They have power. Human relationships have power. Family. Friends. Lovers. The closer and more intimate the relationship, the more power it can and does generate. Use that energy. And use it wisely.”
“To break through Rafe’s shield?”
“No. To make it your own.”
“Got it?” Rafe asked, meeting up with Mallory in the bullpen at the station.
“Yeah, not that it’s helpful. The call Emily received was from a pay phone in town. One of the few remaining pay phones in use.”
“Doesn’t miss a trick, our guy.”
“No. I’ve got T.J. checking out the phone, but I’m betting she’ll either find a million prints or none at all.”
“I’ll cover that bet. Come on, let’s get back out to the scene.”
“Isabel and Hollis still out there?”
He nodded, leading the way from the station. “Pablo and Bobby are keeping an eye on them.”
“I’ll bet Isabel loves that.”
“Frankly, I don’t give a shit how she feels about it at this point. She’s a target, and I have a strong hunch she’s next on his hit list.”
Mallory looked at him curiously as they got into his Jeep. “Why?”
“Word’s getting out. I’ve had at least two calls from media and one from the town council today asking if it’s true we’ve got a psychic investigator working the case.”
“Lovely.”
“And the reporter who replaced Cheryl Bayne was one of those calls; he’s looking to make a reputation for himself, and it’s obvious. His predecessor missing and a psychic working the case? Sounds like a dandy story to him.”
“He’s going to broadcast that?”
“On today’s six o’clock news, he says.”
“Shit.”
Rafe shrugged. “At this point, I don’t think he’ll report anything the killer doesn’t already know. That’s what worries me. If I were him, the killer, I’d go after Isabel, and I wouldn’t wait a week to do it. I’m assuming he’s thinking the same way.”
Mallory sighed and said, “Safe assumption, probably. Plus, if Isabel’s right and he really did kill Emily because she knew something rather than because she was one of his blondes, then he could have been-for want of a better word-unsatisfied by the murder.”
Rafe muttered a curse under his breath and increased the Jeep’s speed. He didn’t say anything else until they reached the informal rest area and pulled off the highway. Ignoring the questions called out to him by several members of the media still braving the hot day hoping for a photo or a news bite, he headed toward the clearing, relaxing visibly when he saw Isabel and Hollis.
“The phone call?” Isabel asked as the two cops reached the agents.
“No joy,” Mallory reported. “Pay phone.”
“And there won’t be prints,” Isabel said with a sigh. “He’s using gloves. Not latex, I think, which is odd.”
“What do you mean?” Rafe asked.
“Well, latex gloves leave you with a much more tactile sense of what you’re touching, you know that. And since they’re form-fitting, they don’t get in the way.”
“No, I mean how do you know he isn’t using latex gloves? We haven’t found a sign either way at any of the crime scenes.”
“I touched them,” Isabel said slowly, surprised that she only now remembered that.
“Excuse me?” Mallory’s voice was very polite.
Isabel realized she was being stared at, and shook her head. “Sorry. I forgot none of you had seen it here. Or even knew, I guess. I wonder why I forgot that part?”
“What part?” Rafe asked with visible patience.
“I told you that sometimes, rarely, my abilities manifest themselves physically in a vision. During one of those, I am the victim. I feel what he or she feels, and I usually come out of it covered in blood. Blood that fades away completely after a few minutes.”