Кей Хупер - Whisper of Evil

"You don't have to do this," Nell said as Max followed her into the foyer of the Gallagher house.

"Humor me," he requested.

Nell looked at him a moment, then shrugged. "Suit yourself. But maybe I'd better remind you that I'm the one with the gun."

"I'm not likely to forget that." But he didn't bother to argue when he knew only too well he wasn't being particularly logical about this. He just went through the downstairs, turning on lights and checking windows and doors. When he was satisfied the first floor was clear, he went upstairs and checked every room up there as well.

When he came back downstairs, he found Nell in the kitchen waiting for coffee to brew.

"Happy now?" she asked dryly.

Instead of answering, Max asked a sharp question of his own. "Will you at least admit that your presence here could be a threat to this killer?"

She leaned back against the counter and gazed at him steadily for a moment, then sighed . "If he knows about the Gallagher curse, if he believes in psychic ability, and if he knows any specifics about my ability — maybe."

"Jesus, you're stubborn."

"I'm a cop, Max, remember? Risk comes with the territory."

"Not undue risk."

"In this situation, how do you define undue ? I can take care of myself, you know. I'm armed. I'm trained in self-defense. And I'm here to look for a killer. It's my job."

"Is that all it is? Your job?"

"What else could it be?'

"You also came home to settle your father's estate."

Nell turned away to get out cups and silverware. "Do you take milk or sugar? I don't think I ever knew that."

"Both." He watched as she put what was needed on the counter near the coffeemaker. "Are you going to answer my question?"

"Yes, I also came home to settle my father's estate."

"Would you have come home if it hadn't also been your job?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

"You hated him, didn't you?"

Nell poured the coffee and pushed his cup across the counter to him so he could fix it the way he liked. Matter-of-factly, she said, "Yes, I hated him. And I think it's a cosmic joke that I ended up with all his property."

There were plenty of questions Max wanted to ask, but he was conscious of feeling an overwhelming caution. He was walking an emotional minefield with Nell, with a single unwary step promising destruction, and every instinct warned him not to push too hard. Not now. Not yet.

So all he said was, "Did he know you'd joined the FBI?"

"No. I didn't write to him either."

Max didn't rise to the bait. "What about Hailey? She talked as if she knew where you were, what you were doing."

"She didn't. I hadn't seen or spoken to Hailey since I left Silence."

He frowned. "Then she made that stuff up?"

Nell sipped her coffee, then smiled. "She always made stuff up, Max. Didn't you know?"

"You're saying she was a liar?"

"Sweet, friendly Hailey. So charming, so good-tempered. And she had a way about her, didn't she? A way of… getting people behind her. A way of making people believe her. Not exactly my strong suit, huh?"

"Nell — "

Abruptly, she said, "I wonder what she did to so alienate our father that he disinherited her. Do you know?"

"Supposedly… she ran off with Glen Sabella. He was a mechanic, and he was married. Gossip had it that your father was furious, especially since —"

"Since both his wife and his other daughter had also run off without a word."

"That was the general consensus, yes. I don't think anybody ever had the nerve to ask Adam directly, but it was common knowledge he changed his will just a couple of weeks after she left."

"Wade Keever does like to talk," Nell murmured.

"He isn't the most discreet lawyer in town. But the general feeling was also that Adam didn't give a damn who knew."

"No, he usually didn't."

"He could be mysterious about some things. The Gallagher curse, for instance."

Nell gazed at him a moment, then said, "He was mysterious about it because he didn't understand it. Any more than the rest of us did. Worse for him, though. He didn't have it."

"What? I just assumed —"

"Yeah, everybody did. Because it was the Gallagher curse, everybody figured we all had it. And he didn't do anything to discourage people from thinking that. His mother had it, and his daughter — and I think his father had it as well. Maybe he felt left out."

"Daughter. Just you? Not Hailey?"

"Not Hailey."

"She used to joke about it. Even manned the fortuneteller's tent at the school carnivals. From what I heard, she was pretty good at it."

"That sort of thing isn't hard, given a fair amount of knowledge about your neighbors and a certain… theatrical flair. Hailey always had both."

"But no genuine ability?"

"Not psychic ability, no."

Max thought about that for a moment. "But your psychic ability is genuine. And it's what got you into the FBI?"

"It's what got me into the Special Crimes Unit. I had to pass all the usual tests to get into the FBI."

"Wait a minute — you didn't graduate from high school."

"Yes, I did. Just not here. Went to college, too."

"On your own?"

Nell shrugged. "It took me five years instead of four, since I was working my way through, but I made it. I majored in computer science. Minored in psychology."

Max had spent so much time these last hours readjusting what had clearly been his faulty mental image of Nell that he was beginning to feel a little dizzy. "And then you joined the FBI?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "No, then I tried to help a friend whose little sister had been abducted. There was an open-minded cop who listened to me, and they found the little girl before she could be killed."

"You'd had a vision?"

"Yes. I was living in a small town on the West Coast. The cop began coming to me from time to time with some of his more puzzling cases. Sometimes I was able to help. He's the one who introduced me to an FBI agent who was part of a new unit being put together. The Special Crimes Unit. They thought I'd fit into that unit nicely. As it turns out, I did."

"Something useful to do with the Gallagher curse?"

"Exactly. They don't treat me like a freak. They don't whisper about me or look at me nervously. They don't even think I'm the slightest bit odd. Because I'm not. I'm just one of them, another investigator with a unique tool or two to help me do my job."

"Hunting down killers?"

"Killers. Rapists. Kidnappers. Pedophiles. We usually get the real animals, because they're usually harder to catch."

After a moment, he said, "It sounds like difficult work. Emotionally difficult, I mean."

"Bishop says finding genuine psychics is never the problem. Finding genuine psychics who can handle the work consistently is. I can handle it."

"So far, you mean."

"Yeah. So far."

"So… you use your visions as tools? Use them to try and solve crimes?"

"To answer questions. To give me pieces of the puzzle. That's all, usually. Just a little extra help for the more conventional investigative methods."

"What about your blackouts?"

"What about them?"

"You know what I'm asking you, Nell. How do you cope with them? Prepare for them? What happens if you black out during an investigation?"

"I try to find something soft to fall on."

He set his cup down on the counter with a rather emphatic sound. "Very funny."

She was smiling faintly, but her green eyes were watchful. "It's the truth. The blackouts never come without warning. When my head starts to hurt that way, I make sure I can be alone somewhere I won't be disturbed. If I'm working with a partner, I make sure he or she is notified that I'll be… incapacitated for an hour or so. It's all I can do."