Somewhere I'll Find You (43 page)

Michael ground his teeth. 
It’s a damned good thing that I hid them.  Damnit, Mi
les, what the hell are you up t
o? 
This time when the cell buzzed, his eyes never strayed from
Paige’s
face.  “What is it now?”

“It’s O’Brian.  He’s insisting that he be told where Miss O’Neal is.
What should I tell him?
”

“Very well, let him up on grounds – but not until I get there.”  He shut the phone with a snap, his eyes still on Paige.
  “And you stay here.”
He didn’t wait for her to nod in agreement, which was just as well
,
since she didn’
t.

Listening as Michael drove away, headed for the house on Mulholland Drive
, Paige rose to stand by the door, forcing herself to s
t
ay calm even as she wondered if another man had to die.
  Somehow, she had to help whether Michael liked it or not.

There was no doubt that her intuition had been correct.  The man outside
the mansion
had killed once and would kill again if he wasn’t stopped.

She turned and paced the floor, thinking feverishly.  The answer had to be right in front of her, if only she could see it.

If only she could turn off her logical mind and
feel
.

Her toe struck the flagstone mantle, dislodging a stone. She thought of the film canister and those hidden papers.  Knowing that their existence had something to do with the mess they were in, she focused on each page that she had seen, attacking the problem from a different angle.  Surely
,
the names on that list couldn’t be of value any longer.

Michael couldn’t have gone far when he hid them, she thought.

But she had to act now.  There was no time to contact Michael and convince him that she was right.

Because Paige had become aware of something else- when the killer struck next, it would be against Michael.

Her instinct for danger was verified a moment later by the low voice behind her.

It was a voice from her past, and it had followed her throughout thousands of her nightmares.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for you,
Jenny.”

It was as if that
smooth
voice opened up a portal somehow
; the very sound of it sent her
gift rushing over her like the tides that struck the beach. Around her, stone a
nd wood bl
ed away to
leave only
darkness and pain.

No, not him . . . not here.  How did he get in? 
Paige didn’t turn.  Couldn’t turn
. 
Oh, dear God . . .

“Not going to say hello
, my dear
?”  Hard fingers circled her throat and tightened.  “A pity and here I thought that we were such good friends.”

Swallowing hard, Paige fought her panic as she shoved at
his
taut fingers.  “Friends?  Yes,
Alistar, I
had thought that we were;
even when you were in my home, I thought that we were friends.  But now I remember that the only thing that you liked was your reflection in the mirror.”

“How well you understand me,” he congratulated silkily.
 
“
For years I couldn’t be certain what you remembered, or how much, so I simply watched.  But now . . . now you’re a luxury I can no longer afford.”  A white hand caressed her cheek in a parody of affection.  “Even after y
our accident, you are beautiful,” he murmured.
 
“
How long has it been since that fall? Four years?”

“Five years, f
our days and twenty-three
hours, but who’s counting?” she replied coolly.

“Always ready with a quip, aren’t you, my dear?”  His laugh was oily; cold blue eyes devoid of anything resembling emotion, measured her face.  Paige wondered how she could hav
e
ever trusted the man.  “How flattering that you remember.”

“Too bad you didn’t remember to call an ambulance the night you shoved me from that wall,” she ground out, hoping he’d flinch at her words so she could use the moment of surprise against him.  “You were supposed to be my partner!  You were my mentor!”

“You got there early.  You always were always so efficient.  It was a useful trait in its time,” he continued,
his smile chilling
her
.  “And if I didn’t teach you everything you were to know, it was because you weren’t paying attention.”

Something snapped inside Paige.  She slapped Alistar, putting all of her rage and disgust into that blow.  It was almost pleasurable to watch him reel back in surprise.

“You foul little tart,” he hissed, winding his hand into a handful of thick, dark hair.  “You’re going to pay for that.  This time you’ll no longer be an albatross around my neck.  You won’t get away from me.  Not you or that filthy lover of yours.”

Paige felt his hatred, cold and razor-sharp, his eyes just as emotionles
s as
they had been five years previously.
Now she stared at him, amazed that she had no fear.  His eyes were puffy. Alcohol?  Drugs?

It didn’t matter.  Her past was swept away, healed in the love she had found in Michael’s arms.  Alistar Carver was no more than a pest to her now, a nagging insect with no power to harm her.

I have to keep thinking that way … and I have to keep stalling him and give Michael time to arrive…

“Don’t even think about contacting Sinclair,” he warned, pulling a pistol from beneath his jacket.  “Because if anyone comes through that door, they will die.”

She swallowed as she shook her head, neither of them seeing the shadow that draped itself across one corner of the room.  A breeze that neither Paige or Alistar noticed, ruffled the black silk shirt that shimmered there, and above it, kissed the lashes of grim eyes that were wide with surprise.

Christ,
Erik thought wildly, trying with all of his strength to communicate with Paige.
  It’s Carver . . .
he’s behind it all.  Listen to me, Paige.  For pity’s sake, hear me!  Carver killed Jenny and he’s going to kill you!  Why can’t you hear me?

“And now,” Alistar continued, “all that talent of yours is going to pay off.  You’re finally going to find those documents for me.”

“How did you know about them?”  Something, as though
there was
a voice she couldn’t quite make out, was talking over Alistar, distracting her.  Shaking her head, she tried to focus.

“The same way I learn everything else.  The names on that list are going to make me rich.  So rich that I’ll never need anyone again.” 

There was an ounce of pity left in her for the man she had thought she once knew. “You’re ill, Alistar.  What you need is medical help, not more money that you’ll just burn through.”

“Don’t tell me what I need,” he snapped.  “I’m fed up with people telling me what to do.  I’m tired of the voices telling me what I want . . . what I should do.”  A vein pounded at his forehead as his voice rose to a frantic pitch.  “No more advice! And no more voices, damn it!” His voice cracked at his last words
as his eyes skittered wildly around the room.

Staring into the face of a madman, Paige felt a jab of panic.  “No, no more voices,” she agreed softly.  Alistar’s mouth turned slack, his voice drifting as his hands began to shake.  The revolver in his hand began to drop downwards with every passing tremor.  “Tell me, Jenny, how long have you known?”

Jenny?  Just how insane
is
this man?

“I knew,” he rambled, unaware of how the past had been confused with the present.  “I knew, as you spent all that lovely money to fix up these old houses.  I knew that you had to remember.  You were a liability to me then, just as you are now.  I can’t just let you wander around, while I look over my shoulder, waiting for the day when the truth came to light.  This time, you and your lover are just going to vanish.”  He waved the hand not occupied with a gun.  “Poof . .  .
And
you both vanish into the fog.  Just like they did before.” 

As Paige watched, Alistair
stopped, his breathing hard and frantic, looking at her with desperate
– and yet, somehow,
vague
eyes.  “
Maybe then I’ll find some peace,” he gasped.
 
“
Maybe then, I can forget how much I wanted you by my side.  You chose Fletcher – a second-rate actor, when I could have given you the world.”

Paige shook her head, part of her wondering how long Alistar had gone on like that.  How long had he been maddened with his desire for money, for revenge?  For the prestige, that he already called his.  How long had he heard voices, and been allowed to go unattended.
  Had he been unbalanced on that night so long ago when her life had changed with a horrible fall?  Part of her wanted to think so; part of her wanted to give his soul a chance at redemption.  To believe that he was driven to doing the atrocities he had and was still doing.

His words certainly led
her to believe he was suffering delusions, that he believed her to be Jenny Bowman.  “Alistar, listen to me,” she began carefully, feeling the embers of her gift beginning to burn, uniting  the indistinct voices around her into one strong, well-defined voice.  “It’s Paige . .
. I’m
Paige
.  Not Jenny.  Jenny’s dead.”

“I know that!”  He screamed at her, dragging his hands through his silver hair, the pistol he still
held
wa
ving
dangerously close to his skull. 
“I killed her!
Just as I’m going to kill
you
.  You…
You.
.. You took it all away from me!
”

Paige rocked back. 
He killed . .
. he
killed Jenny?  No wonder I could
n’t find anything about her death; no wonder no one talked.  He probably ordered it that way – to keep his own skin safe.

The whispers were becoming more insistent, the words pressing up against her, and somehow Paige knew they contained the information she had been looking for.

Cautiously, knowing her gift could overwhelm her without warning, she let the images come . . . and prayed that she would live to see the answers they held.

* * * *