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He regarded her for a moment. “Your instincts again?” She’d been emphatic earlier that her…ability, for want of a better word, hadn’t returned. Hayes didn’t know if she’d been trying to convince him or herself.
She had a habit of not answering questions she didn’t like. Her gaze was fixed on him. “You could check that.”
“I could, yes. If, for example, you agreed to stretch out on the couch, maybe take a nap, I might look into it.”
“Bribery?” She made a moue. “I thought you had a moral objection to that.”
“Let’s call it a quid pro quo. Come on. I’ve been trying to get you prone since you were released from the hospital.” He heard his words and immediately backtracked. “That didn’t come out the way I meant.”
“Good thing.” Her mouth quirked a little. “Because it sounded a bit pervy. You might remember that I drove a steel wrench straight into a guy’s junk today. You don’t want to be next.”
Her attempt at humor had something inside him lightening. He rose, lifting her feet from the table and stretching them out on the couch. “Warning taken. Before letting you anywhere near my junk, I’ll check to make sure you’re unarmed.”
23
Stephen Thorne came awake slowly, rubbing his hands over his face. The motel room was as dark as he could make it. He’d hung bath towels on the curtain rods to block the sunlight. But the space still seemed lighter than when he’d gotten here this morning. He looked at the time on his phone. Nearly five. Falling back against the pillow, he stretched and scratched his belly.
You’ve been smart. Very, very smart. The familiar voice sounded in his mind. He knew it was right. He’d booked the motel online and used keyless check-in. Later he’d order food, and that would be anonymous, too. Just another faceless dumbass following his orders. Because the world made sense when people did what Stephen said.
Last night, the man hadn’t followed directions well. Not at all. While his wife cried and pleaded, the guy found a gun in the cabin and pointed it at him. Stephen didn’t like guns. They were loud and hurt his ears when they were fired. People heard the noise, and that ruined everything.
But he’d dropped it when he’d seen Stephen’s blade at the old lady’s throat. Not so brave then. He’d even tied her up like hewas told, stuffing a pair of panties in her mouth. Stephen hit him with the weapon he took from him enough times until he was easy to wrestle down and tie up.
He’d had to be quiet. People might be nearby, maybe on another boat. Stephen didn’t like silence when he worked. His mind got very, very loud then. He wanted music blasting to block out the noise in it so he could concentrate. Make it perfect.
There’d been no music on the beach, either. One and two. Not perfect. Not at all. Butthreewould be different.
She was still out there. She’d been waiting for him for a long time while he’d been away with the doctors that poked and frowned and gave him colored pills that made the voice quieter. Not gone, but not so shouty in his head.
Wait for her. Don’t get stupid and grabby.The voice was right. It always was. When he didn’t listen to it bad things could happen.
She wouldn’t get away this time. The other one had run but Stephen had been smart. He’d found her and left her at the bottom of that lake for the fish to eat. She should have burned with her friends. He scowled. That hadn’t been perfect. But the next one would be.
Three minus three is none. Done.
The memory of those big brown eyes staring at him rushed up so fast, so vivid, that Stephen threw an arm over his face, cringing away. She’d reached into his mind and plucked out things she shouldn’t know. Thoughts and memories that were his, that she had no right to. A whimper escaped him and he focused on the end when he’d poured that lye in her eye. No more seeing inside him. No more seeing at all.
It calmed him to remember. He’d seen a movie once with a blind person. There’d been a white glaze over the eyes, and Stephen hoped that had happened to three. If only he’d finishedbefore the men in black suits and goggles had found him. That’s when everything had gone very, very wrong.
The woman had been rooting around in his mind. There wasn’t room for her in there. But he had to erase those eyes that still haunted him.Dig them out, this time,the voice whispered.Grapefruit spoon.He nodded. His mom had eaten grapefruit because she wanted to be skinny. Sometimes, when she’d stabbed the fruit with her spoon, the juice had squirted out far enough to hit him where he sat next to her eating his cereal. Nasty. He wondered if three’s eyes would squirt when he dug them out. He imagined them doing so. Maybe with blood, so he’d know for sure that they wouldn’t come back. They’d be gone forever.
He’d take a very long time with her because she’d scared him. Stephen didn’t like to be scared.
You’ll find a special place. You always do.He nodded. A little more planning this time before he went for three. And then, when he found her, it’d be perfect.
24
Hayes looked up from the computer to see Reese sitting up on the couch, blinking owlishly. “Feeling better?”
She scrubbed her hands over her face, wincing when her fingers came in contact with the bandage. “How long was I out?”
“Only a couple of hours.”
She pushed away the throw he’d covered her with after she’d dozed off. “Long enough, then,” she muttered. “What’d I miss?”
“I had Dryver pick up the keys and bring Julia’s car home. You received a call. And a voicemail, I believe.”
Her phone was on the table across from him. Reese rose and walked woodenly toward it. Stiffness had set in from being crammed in that trunk and struggling with McNulty. But things could have been far, far worse. Picking up her cell, she saw that Hayes was right. There was one missed call from the SDPD. Maybe Gibbons or Jennings.