Divine Intervention (18 page)

"Just a bit longer," I murmured.

It was the perfect end…and the perfect beginning.

I glanced at my watch. It was getting late.

Time to get the show on the road.

For the old lady and child trapped within the confines of the burning shed, it was already too late. Nothing could save them. Their screams of terror and agony were lost in the howling of the storm. As the fiery heat and toxic smoke embraced them in death, their bodies were singed together―my masterpiece.

Finally, the storm clouds released their pent-up energy, drenching the land. I watched as the small building collapsed in ruin. Bright furious flames crept higher for a moment, fingers of fire leaping into the sky, and then they diminished quickly, extinguished by fat raindrops. Ten minutes later, the rain subsided into a rhythmic pitter-patter of droplets, pulling soft sizzles of smoke from the wreckage.

Sauntering over to the pile of rubble, I watched the final flame die a silent, sooty death. I breathed in the smoky night air, rubbing my tongue along the roof of my mouth. A cloudy haze lingered thickly, and I drew my hooded jacket over my head, breathing slowly.

Surveying the result of my revenge, I nodded. Kicking aside a smoldering plank of wood, I saw the blackened remains of two hands clenched in death, one with tiny, innocent fingers.

"I release you from your hell," I whispered, my teeth clenched in determination.

I reached into my pocket and withdrew a small item.

Flipping it between my fingers, I examined it carefully…lovingly. Searching the ground, I found the perfect place and dropped the item gently in the grass at my feet.

Then I shoved my hands deep into my pockets and strolled through the opened gate. Heading in the direction of the trees, I followed an invisible path and whistled softly…satisfied.

It is time.

It has finally begun.

Jasi flinched sharply when someone touched her. Her eyes flicked open.

Brandon was hovering over her.

"I can't believe he killed that child," she said in a choked voice. "Poor Samantha. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Let's get outta here," Natassia suggested, leading Jasi to the front of the house. "We've got everything on record."

"Is this far enough away," Brandon asked.

Jasi nodded, detached the nosepiece and then strode over to a small metal patio table near the
For Sale
sign.

"Give me a second."

Resting her head, she closed her eyes and listened to the rhythmic sound of her own breathing―exhausted beyond comprehension.

Without warning her head jerked up and her eyes flew open.

"Damn!"

"What?" Brandon and Natassia asked in unison.

Jasi tapped a finger on the table. "The arsonist asked the woman something. What did she say?"

She studied Natassia expectantly.

"She said something like 'no man washes'," Natassia joked, grinning to relieve the tension. "Well, something like that. I'd have to replay it."

"
No…man. No…man wash―"

Jasi sensed a sharp mind-tug, and then she slipped into a thick fog.

"She's back in," she heard Natassia say. "This happens sometimes…when she's overtired."

A minute later, Jasi emerged from the vision. She saw fear gleaming in Brandon's eyes.

Damn!
Brandon Walsh actually cared about her.

Her thoughts made an abrupt detour, steering her toward the vision of Charlotte Foreman.

No…man.

The old woman's words became suddenly clear.

"Wait!" Jasi gasped. "She wasn't saying '
no man'
. Charlotte Foreman was saying '
Norman
'. Norman Washburn!"

Natassia slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Crap! Of course!"

"But what does that mean?" Brandon asked.

Jasi's voice was cool, clipped. "It means, Chief Walsh, that if the CFBI had been notified of this first murder the day it had been committed, we probably could have prevented Norman Washburn's death."

She leaned her elbow on the table and rested her head in her hand, wincing at the flicker of pain that sliced through her forehead. Her headaches were becoming increasingly frequent.

Especially when Walsh is around.

She scowled at Brandon's back as he turned away to talk to Natassia. Maybe he
was
the cause of her headaches. The man was certainly stress provoking.

She tried to resist the urge to stick her tongue out at him. A childish habit, she realized, but who cares?

She did it anyway.

Somewhat vindicated, Jasi closed her mouth and slumped further into the chair. Tucking her head into her arms, she allowed her body to relax. Exhaustion crept through her muscles and bones, and lulled her into a half-sleep.

"Is she okay? I mean, she seems a bit out of it."

Brandon's voice seemed miles away.

"She's just tired," Natassia replied.

"Jasi told me she could control her visions."

Natassia murmured a response that Jasi couldn't hear.

"So?" Brandon asked. "What the heck is going on?"

Jasi heard Natassia sigh. "I'm not sure. It could be residue from the Okanagan fires. It's like she's operating at half her power. I haven't seen her like this before."

Jasi lifted her head, frowned at them.

Then she pinned her eyes on Brandon. "You guys done talking about me?"

"We're just concerned," he admitted.

"I'm much better now," she lied.

His ice blue eyes told her that he didn't believe her.

Natassia's gaze was intense, suspicious. "Jas―"

"Listen―both of you!" Jasi snapped, cutting her off. "All I need is a good night's sleep."

"I think you should let Dr. Evans look at you," Natassia suggested.

"As soon as we get back," Brandon advised.

Jasi watched them both, her eyes narrowing. She wasn't accustomed to all this fuss and bother. It made her squirm.

"Well?" Brandon asked, waiting for her reply.

Jasi released an indignant sigh.

"We'll see."

Brandon watched her, annoyed and frustrated.

Damn, the woman was pigheaded!

He suspected that Jasi would see the case to the end before spending one minute in a doctor's office. The woman was being unreasonable. She'd drive herself into the ground at this pace.

"Call the helicopter," he told Natassia. "We need to get back to Kelowna."

"Not yet," Jasi argued. "We still have one more thing to check out here."

She stood up shakily and took a few steps.

"When I was in his mind, I walked the path the arsonist took. Victoria PD never checked the woods that far in. We'll go back to Kelowna
after
we check it out."

When Brandon caught her eye, she added, "I promise."

Cursing beneath his breath, he watched her move away from the house.

Why did she have to be so damned stubborn?

He recalled her vision. He had seen and heard firsthand her descent into the mind of a killer. The expression on her face earlier had chilled him to the bone. For a moment, he could have sworn that he was with the arsonist. Someone insane―twisted and extremely deadly. In a voice that was hoarse and unrecognizable, she had said,
"Now it begins."

Jasi's voice, he reminded himself.

But the words and thoughts of a killer.

"You coming, Walsh?" she hollered.

He accompanied her down an overgrown trail that ran alongside the house. The trail ended where the woods began, about six yards from the back fence. The towering trees, like leafy sentinels, clustered close together, with no obvious path through them.

But Jasi saw a path―the one a murderer had taken.

"This way."

Brandon was right behind Jasi as she led them into the brush. He held his breath as she slipped between the trees and slowly scanned the ground and bushes for clues.

Natassia trailed closely behind them.

"He stood here," Jasi said, pointing to a boot print in the dried earth.

Moving in for a closer inspection, Natassia scanned the print with her data-com. "It's the same as the one we found at Washburn's. Size 11 Thermogard Cruiser."

Brandon crouched down beside Jasi and surveyed the ground. "This confirms the connection between the two cases. There's no room for doubt now. Do you need a cast?"

"No," Jasi replied. "The one we took from Washburn's will do." She glanced over at Natassia. "Can you get some photos?"

Natassia immediately brought out her data-com and a flexible ruler. She placed the ruler beside the print and took a few photographs.

While Natassia was busy, Brandon watched Jasi carefully. He noticed that her face had regained some color and that she appeared more rested.

He steered her a few feet away from her partner.

"You feeling better?"

Startled, Jasi's eyes flickered toward his. Swallowing hard, she mumbled, "I'm fine, Walsh."

His eyes grazed hers and held her captive. Then he swept a hand in front, indicating for her to go on ahead.

"I'll follow."

He heard her snicker and wondered what was so funny.

When Jasi reached a fallen cedar tree, she stopped suddenly. "He wanted to go around but the ground was too boggy."

Brandon held his breath as Jasi slowly climbed up onto the tree. The girth of the trunk was too wide for her to straddle so her long legs curled underneath her. She started to part the tree limbs in front of her, ducking her head through a small opening.

Suddenly Jasi stopped.

"Natassia! Have you got an evidence container?"

"What have you got?" Brandon asked.

"Our killer left behind some trace." She pointed to a small piece of shiny yellow fabric snagged on a branch.

Using a long pair of tweezers, Jasi picked up the fabric and gently slid it into a clear evidence tube. Then she held it up to the sun.

"There's some thread on it," she said, handing the tube back to Natassia.

"I'll get it to Ops," Natassia promised, carefully pocketing the sealed container.

"Data-com on!" Jasi commanded. "Phone Ben."

When Brandon heard Roberts' voice on the speaker, he thought it sounded tired.

"What's up?" Ben Roberts asked.

Jasi caught Brandon's eye, blushed and turned away. "We found something, Ben. A piece of plastic cloth. Yellow―bright yellow. It could be from a hat, a gym bag…or a yellow jacket."

"Just like my vision," Natassia murmured.

"Okay," Roberts said. "I'm going to the Paloma now. I'll check Baker's room for anything yellow. Divine has a team searching his home in Vancouver too."

When the transmission ended, Jasi looked at Brandon. "Do you believe in me now?"

He dragged in a breath. He knew his answer was important. To both of them. Strangely, he didn't want to let her down.

"I'm starting to," he admitted softly.

"Okay," she nodded. "Let's keep going."

He followed her through the trees until they reached the edge of the woods. The river loomed close by, its surface broken by rocks and whitewater foam. In a few areas near the shore, the water was glassy calm.

Deceptively calm, he thought.

Ahead, Jasi came to an abrupt stop.

Watching her stare out over the river, Brandon wondered what she was thinking. He stepped forward, about to ask her, when Natassia's arm reached out and restrained him.

"He stopped here," Jasi whispered after a moment. "He felt powerful and in control. One person off his list. Charlotte was the first to die…but she wouldn't be the last."

Brandon couldn't control the sudden chill that racked his spine. What was it like to be linked to a killer's mind? He had to admit that there was more to Jasi's special
gift
than some hocus-pocus nonsense.

Victoria PD had missed a vital piece of evidence.

He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. He realized that he was beginning to believe in the unthinkable―that Jasi had psychic abilities and could reach into the mind of a psychopath. That possibility terrified him more than he wanted to admit.

"There's nothing more for us here," Jasi murmured softly.