Abduction (6 page)

She eyed the chair and then sat down, her flowery
skirt floating down around her legs as she crossed them. “As I said on the
phone, I’m glad to do what I can, but I can never guarantee anything.”

It seemed as
if her attention was pulled—no, dragged—from the two men to the pictures on the
wall. She set her purse on the floor and stood up, walking over slowly.

JJ watched her
with skeptical interest.

Zoe studied each
picture, taking her time moving from child to child. She reached out and let
her fingertips trace the first picture, closing her eyes.

“Gina,” she
whispered softly.

JJ folded his
arms across his chest. “Anyone could know that. Her name and picture were in
the paper.”

Matt flashed
him an impatient look.

Zoe didn’t
seem to hear JJ, or if she did, she didn’t care. “She’s skipping, happy. She
was somewhere that pleased her. She doesn’t see the danger coming. Unaware. It
sneaks out and snaps her up.” Suddenly Zoe yanked her hand back as if she’d
been burned. “I’m sorry.” The whisper was low, husky, filled with pain.

Visibly
shaken, Zoe reached out and touched the second photograph. “This is different.”

She shook her
head as if to clear it and then turned to JJ. “Gina was taken by a man, but not
the baby. I see a man and a woman, but I can’t see their faces. It’s too
shadowy, but she’s not like Gina. I can tell you that much.”

She echoed
enough of what had been moving in his own heart to make him put the walls down
for a moment. He took a step closer. “Is she alive?”

“I’m not sure.
I think so.”

“What do you
need?”

“To touch
something of hers. Can we go to the parents’ home? I need to see her room,
touch her things. Maybe then.” She looked back over at the pictures. “For Gina,
too.”

JJ noticed how
her last words seemed to be pulled out of her. There was reluctance,
hesitation. He wondered at it.

Matt flashed
her a bright, sexy smile. “That was incredible!”

She tilted her
head, looking at him with an amused smile. “Silly man, do you really think
she’ll wait forever? If you care at all, and you do, you’d better do something
about it. Someone else is already trying to draw her attention away from you.”

JJ watched in
amusement as Matt’s color paled. “I. . .I don’t know what you mean.”

Zoe reached down and picked up her purse. “Yes,
you do. All the others—they may soothe your ego, but she soothes your soul.
That will always be more important. You won’t find another like her.”

Matt stepped
back away from her, suddenly jamming his fists into his pockets as if he were
afraid she might touch him and expose his soul to the world.

JJ just
smiled.

Zoe tucked her
purse under her arm and turned her attention to JJ. “When will you be ready to
start?”

JJ felt the
question echo in his mind as if it somehow had more than one meaning, but for
the life of him, he didn’t know why. “Let me call Mrs. Matthews. If she’s home,
we can ride over now.”

Zoe nodded.
“I’ll wait outside.”

Matt waited
until she was gone to drop into the chair. “How did she do that?”

JJ picked up
the phone, making a face. “You don’t really buy that act, do you? She could
have heard someone out there talking about you and Paula.”

“You don’t
believe she’s a psychic?”

“I don’t
believe in psychics.”

Matt pointed
to the pictures. “But she saw things.”

“Did she? Or
did she just want us to think she did?” He flipped open the Matthews file and
dialed the number. “Think about what she said, Matt. Gina is hurt, terrified,
scared. Wow, what a revelation that was. Don’t know why I didn’t think of that
myself.”

“But you heard
what she said about the Matthews kid!”

“I have to
give the lady a shot. But trust me, if anything solves this case, it’s going to
be old-fashioned police work.”

JJ lifted his
head. “Yes, Mrs. Matthews? This is Detective Johnson. I need to come by for a
few minutes.”

chapter
5

Wednesday, April 12

Z
oe stepped out of JJ’s office and pulled the door closed
behind her. The quiet in her mind was shattered. But it had been shattered
before she heard the office clatter of phones ringing, computer keyboards
tapping, people talking, a woman screeching, a man arguing, and a chair
scraping across the tile floor. She took a deep breath.

The children.
It always tore her up. So why did she do this to herself? Because she had to?
Because she had been destined for this? Because she had the gift and had to use
it? Each time she looked at one of the faces, touched their pictures, felt
their terror, she would remember the one she hadn’t been able to save. The most
important one. And the pain would engulf her, draining her.

Experience had
taught her when to focus and when to forget. Even for a little while. She
shifted her thoughts to the two detectives. Matt had been easy to read.
Smiling, she recalled his expression when she mentioned his relationship with
his girlfriend. He was a harmless flirt, but it would cost him the love of his
life if he didn’t rein it in.

But the other. Johnson.
Handsome
wasn’t a
word she would use to describe him. His eyes were green, but they were the
color of washed-out glass. His black hair was wavy but too thick to tame. He
was tall—maybe a shade over six feet—with broad shoulders and a tapered waist,
but the effect made him look like a brawler. His lips were full, but his mouth
was hard and his nose too wide and slightly crooked. He was the kind of man who
wanted to look intimidating. Forbidding. He enjoyed it, too, and that wasn’t
the least bit attractive.

There was
something compelling about him though. Intense. He would be noticed in a crowd but
considered somewhat unapproachable. Yet something simmered just below the
surface—secrets and shadows and whispers. She was intrigued, and that was
something she
did
find attractive.

Zoe barely heard the door open behind her but felt
his touch—fleeting, reluctant. His fingertips grazed her elbow and were gone.
And in that moment, she felt something shoot through her that was so
unfamiliar, so foreign, she could only blink as everything in her stilled.

“Ready, Miss
Shefford?”

They walked in silence, his wide stride eating up
the distance. He didn’t open the car door for her, and she wasn’t sure she was
expecting it. As he pulled the car out of the lot, she stared out the window.

It was a mild day, full of sunshine and warm
breezes. The kind of day that would normally depress her, but today she barely
noticed. Her thoughts were consumed by the sullen, silent man beside her.

She turned to
look at him, trying not to admire the way he filled his shirt or the way his
scent permeated the car. Instead, she concentrated on darker emotions that
seemed to be draped over him like a well-worn coat. “You don’t like me, do
you?”

JJ looked over at her, his gaze cool, detached. “I
don’t even
know
you.”

“But. . . ,”
she prompted.

“But I don’t
believe in all this stuff with spirits and tarot cards and crystal balls.”

She knew the
battle was far from over, but she sighed with dramatic relief. “Oh, good. I
don’t either.”

“You’re the
one who claims to be a psychic,” he replied pointedly, one eyebrow cocked with
skepticism.

“I don’t have
a sign in my front yard either.”

JJ shrugged as
his eyes looked everywhere but at her. “Lady, as far as I’m concerned, you’re
here because the boss insists, not because I believe in all this spirit-world
hype. You claim to be a psychic, fine. Do whatever it is you do. And I’ll do
what I do.”

“Which is,
precisely?”

He did look at
her this time, and that cool gaze had the edge of frost that should have had
her retreating. Instead, she smiled at him. “Oh, did I touch something tender?”

“No, lady, you
did not. I’m a cop. That’s what I do. Use your psychic powers to figure out
what that means.”

“Ouch.” She
laughed lightly and watched JJ frown as she did. “I did touch something
tender.”

“Look, you may
be able to use all that mumbo jumbo to make someone as gullible as my partner
think you’re able to read minds or whatever it is you’re supposed to do, but
don’t try it with me. I don’t buy it.”

“I see.” She
lifted a hand. “May I?”

“May you
what?” He spotted the red light and braked.

“Touch you?”

One eyebrow lifted
in amusement. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all.” She reached over and laid one of
those delicate hands on his shoulder. Closing her eyes, she shut her mind to
the woodsy scent he wore, that cool expression he favored, and the muscles that
tensed beneath her fingers.

Suddenly she
yanked her hand back.

“What’s the
matter? Didn’t like what you saw?” JJ laughed sarcastically. “Now, this is
where you tell me that you saw something so terrible, so horrid, that you can’t
tell me, right? But maybe for another fifty bucks you can be persuaded.”

Zoe clasped
her hands in her lap and turned her head to look out the window. “Boy, you sure
have me pegged, don’t you?”

Her voice was
calm, her expression detached, but inside she was a raging turmoil of
conflicting emotions. He was cool and detached for good reason. The sarcasm and
skepticism were justified. And he had grounds for keeping his distance. Worse,
it broke her heart to know, and she wished she didn’t.

As they turned
off the highway and into a moderate but well-maintained housing development,
she heard his thoughts loud and clear. She didn’t look at him. “I don’t do it
for the publicity. In fact, I always ask that the media not be brought in at
all. Sadly, my wishes are not always honored.”

“I didn’t say
a word.”

“You were
thinking it.” She turned her head and looked at him.

His mouth
twisted in a smile that was both mocking and insulting. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you
were. I heard you.”

JJ laughed
harshly. “Like I said, save it for someone who actually buys your act. I really
don’t care why you do what you do.”

“No, you don’t
care
why, but you were
wondering
why. There is a difference.”

He turned onto
a side street, his eyes never leaving the road.
“And I wasn’t even thinking of you at all. I was concentrating on my
driving.”

“Suit
yourself.”

“I always do.”

“I know.” Now
she had his attention.

“Care to
explain that comment?”

“I thought you
didn’t buy my act.”

“I don’t.”

“Then I
shouldn’t care to explain anything I say, should I?”

She saw the temper flare in his eyes, and for some
reason it
pleased her that she’d
managed to break through that cool act of his.

“You’re
deliberately trying to provoke me.”

“Am I? Hmmmm.
Let’s just say that I understand you far better than you think I do. Perhaps
even more than you want me to.” She deliberated for less than a second. “I know
about her.”

“Her, who?”

Zoe toyed with
one of the rings on her finger. “Macy.”

She watched
the muscle in his cheek jump as he clenched down on his teeth and spoke. “Who
told you about Macy?”

“You did.”

“No, I did
not.”

“Yes, you did.
That’s what I saw when I touched you. I make you think of her; that’s why you
dislike me so much. Or resent me. Call it what you will. I make you think of
things you don’t want to think of.”

His knuckles
went white as he gripped the wheel, refusing to look at her. “I don’t know
where you dug up the information on Macy, but that’s my private life and I
don’t appreciate anyone digging into my privacy.”

“I didn’t dig
up anything on you.”

“And pigs fly
with pink wings.”

#

“Looks like
all hell is breaking loose over at the Matthews’ house.”

Rene Taylor
withdrew her hands from the dishwater and grabbed a towel. Wiping her hands,
she joined her husband at the front window. “Reporters. I hope nothing else has
happened. That poor woman has been through enough in her life.”

“I can’t even
begin to imagine having a child vanish like that.” Rene’s husband, Jeff, draped
his arm over her shoulders, gathering her close, as if that simple gesture
might ward off the possibility that tragedy could strike their own lives.

Rene pressed
her lips together, staring out at the hoard of reporters gathering like wolves
around a fresh kill. “I should go over and see if there’s anything I can do to
help. It’s driving me crazy to watch her go through this alone.”

“I thought her
husband told you to stay away from her.”

“He did, but
ask me if I care.” She whipped the dishtowel off her shoulder and wiped her
hands again. “I stay away only to protect her, not because I’m the least bit
intimidated by that coward.”

Jeff smiled,
his arm tightening, squeezing her with affection. “I’ve yet to meet a man who
intimidates you, my love.”

Rene couldn’t
help herself. She smiled. “You make me sound ferocious.”

“Far from it.
You’re just a kitten with claws. But even kittens know how to defend themselves
when threatened by a dog with a bad bite.”

“He’s not a
biter. He’s a barker. And his bark doesn’t bother me. I just don’t want him
taking out his anger on her. She isn’t a strong person at all.”

“Then all we
can do is pray.” Jeff turned from the window and dropped down in his recliner.
He picked up his Bible and began paging through it. “In the meantime, I have a
sermon to prepare.”