Dream Man (37 page)

I
have to go now. He’s calling
.

Still she was reluctant to leave that serenity. She hesitated, and felt one last touch of the white energy.

“—Marlie! Goddamn it, answer me!”

She opened her eyes to Dane’s furious, worried face. He was shaking her, and her head wobbled back and forth. She squeezed her eyes shut against the dizziness. “Stop,” she gasped. He did, and hauled her into his arms. She could feel his heart pounding against his ribs like thunder, hard and frantic. He held her head pressed to his chest, and his grip was so tight that it compressed her rib cage.

“What were you doing?” he raged. “What happened? You’ve been standing there like a damn doll for half an hour. You wouldn’t answer me, wouldn’t even open your eyes!”

She put her arms around him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t hear you. I was concentrating.”

“I don’t call that mere concentration, babe. You put yourself into a goddamn trance, and I don’t like it. Don’t you ever do that again, do you hear me?”

She had frightened him, she realized, and like all strong men, he didn’t take kindly to it. In his anger he had even called her “babe,” something he hadn’t done since she’d told him how much she disliked it. He bent his head down to hers, pressing his forehead against her hair. “This was a bad idea,” he muttered. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

But because he was a cop, when they were halfway down the stairs he reluctantly asked, “Did you pick up on any-thing?”

“No,” she said softly. “Nothing that would help.” She didn’t tell him about Marilyn’s presence, peaceful but resolute, patiently waiting. That had nothing to do with the investigation. It was private, between herself and Marilyn, both of them victims, in different ways, of the same evil. Dane opened the door, and she stepped out. The bright sun glared directly into her eyes, momentarily blinding her, and she paused. She didn’t see the people rushing toward her until they were right on her.

“I’m Cheri Vaughn with WVTM-TV,” a young woman said. “We have learned that the Orlando Police Department is using a psychic named Marlie Keen to aid in apprehend-ing the Orlando Slasher. Are you Marlie Keen?” Then she thrust a fat black microphone in Marlie’s face. Stunned, she stared at the lean, fashionably dressed young woman, and at the burly, shorts-clad man who stood behind her with a camera balanced on his shoulder. A van with the station’s insignia blazoned on the side was parked at the curb, and the crowd of neighbors had drastically increased, drawn by the television camera. Roughly Dane shouldered in front of her. “I’m Detective Hollister,” he snapped.

“You’re behind the police line. You have to leave—
now.”

But the tenacious Ms. Vaughn neatly sidestepped him and once more pushed the microphone at Marlie.

“Are you the psychic?”

A confusing flurry of impressions hit Marlie broadside. She couldn’t read Dane; his mental shields were too strong. But Cheri Vaughn, ambitious and slightly nervous, was no match for Marlie’s abilities. Marlie didn’t even have to try; the truth was broadcast at her in deafening waves. Shock hit her in the pit of her stomach, and she almost choked as the bile of betrayal rose to her throat. It was possible that someone else had leaked the news of her involvement—but no one else had. And only one person had known where she would be at this exact moment.

She felt cold, icy cold, and suddenly alone. Slowly, her face very still, she looked at Dane. He still wore that grim expression, his eyes as narrow and fierce as a hawk’s as he watched her. She could barely breathe. Accusation and betrayal were in her expression as she put her hand over the microphone.

“You set me up,” she said to the man she loved, the man who had used her.

Marlie turned back to the television reporter. “Yes, I’m Marlie Keen,” she said coldly.

“Ms. Keen, have you been working with the Orlando Police Department to help them locate the killer?”

“Yes.” The one word was clipped. She could barely contain her fury, her sense of betrayal. Dane put his hand out, as if to block the camera, but Marlie knocked it aside. Cheri Vaughn plunged ahead. “In what way have you aided them, Ms. Keen?”

“I gave them the killer’s description.”

“How did you know what he looked like? Did you have a psychic vision?”

Again Dane moved in front of her, his rough face furious. Marlie sidestepped. This was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? She was going to deliver, in spades. “Something like that. I know the killer the way no one else does. He’s not a dream man, unless you’re into nightmares,” she said, borrowing Esther’s words. “He’s a worm, a coward who gets his jollies by attacking women—”

“That’s enough!” Dane roared, pushing the camera down and grabbing Marlie’s arm with his other hand, his fingers biting into her soft flesh. “You people leave this scene,
now.”

Cheri Vaughn blinked at him, looking both frightened and elated. Marlie didn’t have to guess how the reporter felt; she knew. She had come here to act a part, with the promise of some news, but she had walked into a sensational gold mine. Her stock at the station had just gone stratospheric. Still gripping her arm, Dane hustled Marlie to the car, putting her in on the driver’s side and shoving her over to make room for himself. He slammed the door and turned the key in the ignition. “What the hell were you doing?” he said from between clenched teeth.

She could feel the white heat of his rage, but she wasn’t impressed. “What you wanted me to do,” she replied bitterly. “Attracting the killer’s attention. Wasn’t that the whole point of the exercise?”

Dane thought of denying it, but realized there wasn’t any point in it. She wouldn’t believe any denials he could come up with, and he was so angry right now that he wasn’t inclined to try. “Attract his attention, yes, not drive him into a killing rage!”

“But now you can be certain he’ll come after me. He won’t forgive an attack on his ego.” She was facing forward, not even glancing at him as he drove.

Dane took a firm grip on his temper. He had known she wouldn’t like being exposed as a psychic, but he hadn’t expected her to immediately realize he had set up the entire situation, or to react by goading and taunting the killer.

“How did you know?” he asked a moment later, his voice as grim as his face. “Did you read my mind?”

“You can’t get over your fear of that, can you?” she gibed. “You can relax; your head’s too thick for me to get even a glimmer from you. But the reporter was a different story. She might as well have been carrying a sign. Why didn’t you call her anonymously?”

“She knows me, knows my voice. Besides, I owed her a favor for some information she got for me last year. Breaking a story would help her at the station.”

“Then by all means, if it will help her, throw me to the wolves,” she said, her voice flat. Now that the first shock of betrayal and exposure had passed, several likelihoods had presented themselves, none of them pleasant. She had fretted over his lack of commitment, over the way they had never even discussed their relationship, and now she knew why. For Dane, there
was
no commitment; he had simply been marking time until the killer struck again, so he could put his plan into action. He had played her perfectly, setting her up for that scene. She thought of what it had cost her to go to that house, and got even angrier.

“I haven’t thrown you to the wolves!” he snapped.

“Haven’t you? You’ve set me up as bait.”

“Damn it, he’s not going to get anywhere near you! Do you think I’d take a chance on something like that happen-ing? I’ve arranged for a policewoman to take your place. She’s already at your house. All you have to do is pack some clothes, and I’ll take you to a safe house until it’s over.”

“No,” she said, just as flatly as before.

He slammed his fist onto the steering wheel. “Don’t fight me on this, Marlie. You don’t have a choice.”

“I’m not going to a safe house.” She thought of being confined for days, perhaps weeks, with shifts of officers to guard her, and knew she couldn’t tolerate it. Her nerves were already raw; that would simply be too much.

Very evenly he said, “I can take you into protective custody and lock you in a cell, if you’d prefer. I don’t think you’d like it.”

She whirled on him, incensed by the threat. “I don’t think you would either, Hollister. I can’t stop you from doing it, but I promise you that I’ll make your life miserable if you do.”

“For God’s sake, use your common sense! You can’t stay in your house. Or do you think I’d planned to actually use you as a tethered goat?”

“Why not? Why stop short of that? Using me has been your plan all along, hasn’t it? Personally, I think you carried it a little far by moving in with me, but I suppose you needed to be on hand when I had another vision, so you could get the ball rolling.”

His head snapped around. “Just what you are saying?”

“That if you’d bothered to
ask
me, Detective, I’d have gone along with your plan if it would help flush out the killer. I hate being exposed by the media, because this will wreck my life again, but I’d have done it. You didn’t have to sacrifice your body for the cause.”

Furiously he slammed on the brakes, stopping the car with a force that jerked her forward in her seat. Luckily there was no one behind them or they’d have been rear-ended. He was as infuriated as she.

“Getting involved with you has nothing to do with this!”

“Doesn’t it? I’ve been puzzled by the situation from the very beginning. Can you honestly say that you didn’t have this plan in mind
before
you moved in?”

His jaw worked. “No.” Damn if he’d lie.

“I didn’t think so.”

“Moving in wasn’t part of the plan.”

“It was just too much to resist, wasn’t it?” she taunted.

Roughly he seized her shoulders. “You’re damn right it was. I wanted you, and when I got the opportunity to move in, I took it. Or maybe you think I’ve been faking all those hardons?”

“That doesn’t prove anything. I think you’d get an erection if a fly landed on you.” She tried to jerk away, but he tightened his grip.

Dane took another grip on his temper, the first one hadn’t lasted very long. “Our relationship has nothing to do with this. They’re two totally separate things.”

“If you say so,” she drawled, mimicking his accent.

“Damn it, Marlie—” An angry blast of a horn inter-rupted him, and he darted a furious glance into the rearview mirror. Several cars were lined up behind him. He stomped the accelerator. “We’ll finish this at the house, while you pack.”

“I’m not going to a safe house.” The words were stony, implacable. “I’m going to work tomorrow just like always. You’ve probably wrecked that, too. They’ll probably fire me, but I’m still going to try.”

“You aren’t going to be fired!”

She stared out the window. So he thought he could just use her to bait his trap, and afterward everything would return to normal? “You can pack, too.”

He slanted a look at her. “What?” He couldn’t stay at the safe house with her.

“I want your stuff out of my house.”

For the first time, the conviction in her voice pierced his impatient anger. Marlie wasn’t just upset; she was deeply, coldly furious, and she hadn’t believed a word he’d said. His stomach knotted. He inhaled deeply, reaching for control. “Okay. Maybe it’s for the best, for now. I’ll see you as often as I can at the safe house—”

“
I am not going to a safe house
. Can’t you understand English?”

“Maybe you don’t,” he said slowly. “Honey, I’m not giving you a choice in this. You can’t stay in your house.”

“Then I’ll stay in a motel, or rent an apartment. I am not going to be locked up because of your schemes. As much as I can, I’m going to live a normal life. I’m going to work, if I have a job, and I’m going to do normal things, like laundry and shopping and going to movies. I lived like a virtual prisoner for the first twenty-two years of my life. I’ll be damned if I let you lock me up again.”

He thrust his hand through his hair. God Almighty, he hadn’t expected her to dig in her heels like this. This was a Marlie he hadn’t seen since the first week he’d known her, and somehow he had let himself forget about her temper. The woman sitting beside him was seething like a volcano, and wasn’t likely to cooperate with him in anything he suggested. He decided to shut his mouth, for now, and cut his losses. The remainder of the drive was accomplished in silence. When they reached her house, there was a strange car in her driveway, and Trammell’s sports car was parked out front. Marlie got out and went inside without looking at Dane.

Trammell and Grace were both there, as well as a young policewoman who resembled Marlie in size and general coloring. Trammell stood when Marlie entered, took one look at her face, and said,

“Uh-oh.”

Coming in behind her, Dane sharply drew a finger across his throat, silencing any other comments. Marlie turned in time to see the gesture. She gave Trammell a cool look. “Were you in on it too?”

He shifted uneasily. “Not until yesterday.” He had be-come accustomed to thinking of Marlie as someone who was vulnerable and needed protecting, but there was a look in those deep blue eyes that suddenly made him wary. Dane had told him about Gleen, but until this moment he really hadn’t seen her as a woman who, tied and helpless, had nevertheless spat defiance at a crazed killer. “I take it you’re unhappy.”

“A mite disturbed,” she said, her tone heavy with irony. “I barely lived through one attack from a maniac with a knife, so it bothers me to be set up as bait for another one.”

Dane flinched. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “You’ll be safe,” he said. “Do you think I’d have done it if there were any risk to you?”

She tilted her head, considering him. “Yes,” she finally said, and went into her bedroom. Trammell whistled through his teeth. “I sense trouble in paradise.”

Grace gave Dane a dirty look. “I would think so,” she said, and followed Marlie into the bedroom. The policewoman, Beverly Beaver, sat watching them uncomfortably. “Is the stakeout canceled?”

“No,” Dane answered. “You’re still on. As soon as I get Marlie settled, I’ll be back to help set up everything. We have time; the bit won’t be on until the evening news.”