Deadly Forecast: A Psychic Eye Mystery (5 page)

This time the man in a tux standing next to Dutch gave him a nudge and motioned toward
her. At last Dutch turned to her. “M.J.!” he said, his face lighting up with a happy
smile as he leaned in to give her a brief hug. “Abby told me you were coming. Did
you need something?”

M.J. opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. Dutch continued to stare expectantly
at her and finally she said, “Do you know where Abby is?”

His expression turned humorously quizzical before he motioned with his chin toward
the corridor she’d just come from. “She’s getting ready back there. Did you want to
poke your head in? I don’t think she’d mind if you went back to say hi.”

M.J. bit her lip. “I’ve been back there,” she said, moving closer to him to keep her
voice low enough that only he and the people around him could hear. “She’s not there.”

Dutch’s face lost all of its humor. “What do you mean, she’s not there?”

“I spoke with the hairstylist and the makeup artist. They said that Abby’s missing.
And so is Candice.”

The man next to Dutch leaned forward, his own face suddenly alarmed. “Hold on,” he
said. “What do you mean they’re missing?”

Given the man’s reaction, M.J. realized that he must be Candice’s fiancé, Brice. “That’s
all I know, but, Dutch, I have
this feeling, this really
bad
feeling….” M.J.’s voice trailed off. She didn’t quite know how to explain what she
felt. This awful feeling swirling around her was so oppressive it was hard to think.

He was staring at her intensely now. “You’re psychic too, right?”

M.J. nodded. “I’m more a medium than a psychic, but every once in a while I get a
really strong feeling that something bad is about to happen.”

Dutch’s posture stiffened even more. “Like now?”

“Yes.”

“Dammit,” he muttered. Feeling along his pockets and coming up empty, he nudged Brice.
“My phone’s at the guesthouse. Brice, give me your cell.”

Brice pulled out his phone and handed it to Dutch. “Abby’s in the contacts list,”
he said.

Dutch tapped at the screen and placed the phone to his ear. M.J. waited anxiously,
but that mounting feeling of something terrible occurring continued to fill her mind
with dread. “What’s going on?” a voice beside her demanded.

M.J. turned to find Gilley next to her again, his plate now empty of food. “Nothing.
Go get some more hors d’oeuvres. I’ll be there in a sec.”

But Gilley wasn’t having it. “Obviously something’s up,” he insisted. “Seriously,
tell me what it is!”

“Voice mail,” Dutch said, calling M.J.’s attention back to him. He then tapped at
the screen again. “Where’s Candice’s number, Brice?” he asked impatiently.

His friend took the phone and tapped at it himself. After a minute he spoke into the
phone. “Sweetheart, it’s me. Call me back as soon as you get this message.” He then
hung up and began texting, but M.J. couldn’t see what he was typing.

Meanwhile Dutch was scanning the crowd. “Has anyone seen Milo?” he asked. “He told
me he was going to check on Abby an hour ago and I haven’t seen him since.”

“The hairstylist said that Cat might know where Abby and Candice are,” M.J. confessed.
She didn’t like ratting on Abby’s sister, but this was serious. She just
knew
something bad had happened.

At that moment a petite woman with short blond hair emerged from the kitchen area
and began to weave her way through the crowd. She wore a Bluetooth headset, and gripped
a large clipboard in both hands as she moved swiftly through the crowd, making a beeline
for Dutch.

“Speak of the devil,” Dutch muttered. “What’s happened?” he asked the moment Cat came
close.

“It’s probably nothing,” Cat replied in that way that told you it clearly wasn’t.

“Where’s your sister?” Dutch said next, his voice sharp. “Cat, tell me, has something
happened to Abby?”

“No!” Cat said a bit too hastily. “I’m sure she’s
fine
. It’s just…”

Dutch’s eyes flickered to M.J.’s and that horrible foreboding feeling surged within
her with renewed energy. M.J. shook her head to let him know that she knew better.
Abby was in trouble.

Dutch then stepped forward and took Cat by the shoulders. “Please tell me,” he whispered.

“She’s missing.”

“She’s
missing
?” he repeated. M.J.’s heart began to pound.

“Well, maybe not missing so much as she’s left the building and no one seems to know
where she is,” Cat explained.

“And Candice went with her, right?” Brice asked, his own face a mask of worry.

Cat gulped. “No. Candice went to look for her, along with
Milo. I didn’t want to worry you, Dutch, but they’re not back yet and I don’t know
what could be keeping them.”

Dutch focused again on Cat. “Talk to me,” he demanded quietly. “Tell me everything
you know and don’t leave anything out.”

Cat wiped her brow, which was creased with perspiration even though it was chilly
out. “Abby ducked out on us somewhere between hair and makeup. The makeup artist was
too afraid to tell me until an hour ago. I sent Candice to go find Abby. She took
Milo, and now I can’t get either of them on the phone.”

Dutch lifted Brice’s phone out of his hand and dialed. A moment later he said, “Milo,
it’s me. Call me back on this number as soon as you get this message.”

Dutch then hung up and dialed again—and a second later one of the two phones Cat held
on top of her clipboard began to vibrate. Dutch reached out and took it from her.
When he looked at the display, his face immediately darkened.
“You took her phone, Cat?”

Cat gulped again. “I had to, Dutch! You know my sister! She’s been so crazy over this
case your people have been working that she wasn’t letting go of it even though this
is her wedding day! I needed her to focus on getting ready, not make phone calls all
day long!”

Dutch squeezed the phone in his hand so hard his knuckles whitened, but he kept his
tone even as he said, “Explain to me what the hell you’re talking about, please.”

Cat sighed, and wiped again at her brow with trembling fingers. “Abby was trying to
call her boss—”

“Me?” Brice interrupted.

Cat nodded. “Yes. Well, at first she was trying to call Mr. Gaston, but I wouldn’t
let her, because she was sounding like she was going to have all you bureau boys leave
the ceremony and go
chase down some new lead she’d discovered. I told her it could wait until after she
said her vows. I was only thinking of how much she’d regret it if her wedding day
was ruined over something that could keep a few hours!”

“So she left,” Dutch snapped, his eyes narrowed and angry.

“Yes.”

“Did she take the limo?” Brice asked next.

“No. She took her own car.”

“
Why
was she driving her own car?” Dutch’s voice was starting to rise above the hushed
whispers they’d all been speaking in.

“According to Candice, Abby got up early and left her a note that she wanted some
alone time, and she took her own car here. Candice was worried about Abby, because
she’s been acting weird all week, so she took her own car too. Nobody thinks about
the effort and money it took me to get the limo to pick the girls up, oh,
nooo
! They’re all off driving their own cars all over town while I—”

“Cat!” Dutch barked, putting his hands on her shoulders again. “Focus! About what
time did Abby leave here?”

“I don’t know!” she cried, and several people nearby turned to stare at their little
group. M.J. could feel a sort of ripple of alarm spread through the room.

Dutch’s jaw bunched, and M.J. could see he was trying to think through the possible
places his bride could be.

Abby’s sister put a hand on his arm, attempting to console him. “I know that Abby
would never leave you at the altar, Dutch. I’m sure she just needs a little time to
get her head together, and she’ll come back. You wait—Candice and Milo will talk some
sense into her.”

It was then that M.J. realized Cat still didn’t understand that Abby was in trouble.
She was thinking that her sister had turned into a runaway bride.

“She isn’t missing because she doesn’t want to be here, Cat!” Dutch
nearly yelled, and the rest of the room fell silent. “She’s missing because something’s
happened to her! Don’t you get it?”

Behind them M.J. heard gasps coming from the crowd, followed by lots of murmuring.

Brice looked around the room and pointed toward a small cluster of guys near the buffet
table before waving them over. The three men hurried through the crowd and the minute
they got close enough, Brice quietly told them that Abby was missing and that Candice
and Milo had been sent to find her, but no one was answering their calls. Meanwhile
Dutch was dialing the phone again. “Milo, where the
hell
are you guys?!” For a moment M.J. thought he’d connected with his friend, but Dutch
followed that with, “Just call me back, buddy, okay? Right away.” That bad feeling
coursing through M.J. wouldn’t let up. Turning to Cat, she said, “Where did Candice
say that she was going to look for Abby?”

Cat blinked. “She didn’t.”

“And you haven’t heard from Candice since she left to go look for Abby?” Dutch pressed.

“No. It’s only been an hour, but still, she’s not answering her phone.”

Brice put a hand on Dutch’s shoulder before nodding to the three men who’d joined
them. “We’ll split up. You and I can go to the condo, Rodriguez and Cox can go to
the girls’ offices, and Director Gaston, will you check our office?”

“Immediately,” he said, already turning to go.

“We should send somebody to check our new place,” Dutch said, eyeing the group in
front of him as if he were a general gathering his troops.

“Gilley and I can go,” M.J. offered.

“You have a car?” Dutch asked.

M.J. nodded. Holding up her own phone, she added, “And GPS. Just give me the address
and we’ll be on our way.”

“Three-three-one Overlook,” Dutch told her. “The house was just built, so if it doesn’t
come up in your GPS, then use our neighbor’s address, three-two-seven Overlook. It’s
not far from here. Just look for the white stucco house with the red clay roof and
blue shutters.” He then gave her Brice’s number and added, “Call the minute you get
to the house and let us know if she’s there.”

“What about us?” said one of the guys who looked close enough to Dutch to be his brother.

Dutch began walking hurriedly toward the door and they all shuffled forward with him.
“Mike, if you, Chris, and Paul could stay here and search the grounds, just in case
Abby’s here somewhere, and call Brice’s phone the minute she comes back, that would
be great.”

Dutch’s three brothers nodded and peeled off from their group.

M.J. plugged Brice’s number into her phone before grabbing Gilley by the wrist. “Let’s
go!”

From the driveway everyone separated, rushing toward their separate vehicles. M.J.
passed Candice’s yellow Porsche again and wondered why Candice hadn’t responded to
the urgent messages and texts Brice and Cat had left her. Brice’s car was next to
Candice’s and he and Dutch jumped in, pulling out of the space with the engine roaring
and the police strobe light in the back of Brice’s car coming on. It washed over Candice’s
car like a bright red wave of alarm.

“M
orning, Abby,” Candice said, smiling at me from inside her Porsche as the strobe lights
from the crime scene pulsed off the yellow paint. Seeing her amid the chaos of the
crime scene was a sight for sore eyes. That girl always had my back.

“Morning, Cassidy,” I said, using the nickname I’d coined for her.

She waved toward the crime scene. “I hear we’re gonna consult with the boys on this
one.”

I felt a slight smile tug at the corners of my mouth. “We are, huh?”

Candice nodded. “My role is less consulting and more bodyguarding, but the pay is
the same.”

“Oh? And who would you be bodyguarding exactly?”

“You and Dutch,” she replied without a hint of apology.

My grin widened. Hers did too and then she pulled her car over to wedge it between
a no-parking sign and a fire hydrant. Candice isn’t exactly a candidate for the title
World’s Most Responsible Driver.

She got out and so did I and we met in the middle of the
street, where she assessed me critically. “Did you roll out of bed and drive straight
here?”

“Yep.”

“Huh,” she said, looping the lanyard of her FBI ID over her head to nestle it in the
folds of her impeccably styled pinstripe suit. “Rumpled is a pretty common look for
you these days, you know.”

“Shut it, Cassidy,” I muttered, nudging her with my elbow.

“I’m just saying, maybe you and I should go shopping sometime soon.”

I gritted my teeth and began to head over toward the boys, and Candice fell into step
beside me after only one or two more wardrobe suggestions. Dutch’s back was to me
as we approached, and as if he had his own highly tuned radar, he turned and locked
eyes with mine.