Кей Хупер - Whisper of Evil

She drew a deep breath. "Okay. Then I have to move faster."

"Faster means you could get careless."

"And slower means I could get dead."

He swore.

Nell didn't wait for him to offer more objections, just said, "Any luck finding Hailey?"

"Not yet. You did say she'd be likely to change her name whether or not she married Sabella, and maybe change other stuff as well."

"Yeah."

"That'll make it harder."

"I know. But we need to find her."

"Another tie to her in the Patterson house?" he guessed.

"You could say that."

He didn't ask for details, just said, "Then I'll light a fire under the boys at Quantico. And in the meantime?"

She knew what he was asking. "In the meantime… I have to think of something to tell Max."

"How about the truth?"

"Which one?" she demanded ruefully.

"The only one he's interested in, I'd say. He carried you back here, you know. Held you across his lap the whole way. On horseback yet. Impressed the hell out of me."

It impressed Nell too, but she wasn't willing to admit that. "He's always been a natural horseman."

"And a white knight?"

"Some men are like that."

"I wouldn't know. Look, a couple of deputies showed up a few minutes ago."

"Yeah, I saw them."

"I hear they're patrolling all over the parish to keep a close eye on citizens and paying particular attention to the more out-of-the-way places, like this ranch. And your place. If they go by there and find you gone even though your Jeep's in the drive, they might start asking awkward questions."

"I'll say I went riding with Max. Nobody will be surprised."

"He didn't tell them you were here."

"Nobody would be surprised by that either."

He chuckled suddenly. "You know, if this situation weren't such a deadly one, I'd love to sit peacefully on the sidelines and watch you two figure out your relationship."

"You've never sat peacefully on the sidelines in your life."

"Always a first time." His voice sobered. "The blackouts are a warning, Nell, you know that. You can't go on pushing yourself and expect to keep getting away with it."

"I know."

"So be careful ."

"Ill do my best."

"Why doesn't that reassure me?" Without waiting for a response, he broke the connection.

Nell slowly returned the phone to her pocket. Under her breath, she murmured, "Probably for the same reason it doesn't reassure me. Because I'm running out of time."

Ethan Cole had brooded about it all day. He wanted to blame Shelby for putting the idea into his head, but the truth was, he'd been thinking for at least a couple of days that maybe he'd see if there was anything Nell Gallagher could tell him about the series of murders in Silence.

Not that he believed in any of that psychic bullshit, of course. And he wasn't anxious to have the town gossips speculating as to his interest in Nell; Shelby had been right about that, damn her.

But he had a feeling Nell could tell him something useful, and he wasn't prepared to examine that feeling too closely. It was all mixed up with other feelings, like the desire to see Nell again, talk to her. Like his growing need to settle with Max and put the past behind them once and for all. Like the sensation of dread that had been hanging over him and getting stronger with every day that passed.

And like the uneasy sense that what was happening in his town was darker and more twisted than anything he could imagine.

Uglier than anything he could understand.

But he meant to do his job, and doing his job meant he needed to talk to Nell as soon as possible. That was very clear and perfectly reasonable and logical. She was a potential source of information, that was all. To do his job effectively, he really should go and talk to her.

So when the patrol checking things out at the Gallagher place reported in that she wasn't anywhere about even though her Jeep was parked in the driveway, he took advantage of the chance.

"Never mind, Steve," he told Deputy Critcher. "She's probably out walking in the woods." Or out riding with Max , he added silently, the way she used to . "We can't chase after every citizen in the parish just because they go out to stretch their legs and get some air. I'll send somebody to check on her tomorrow morning or do it myself."

"Okay, Sheriff. You want us to stick around 'til she comes back home?"

"No, that's okay. Continue your patrol."

"Copy that. Over and out."

Ethan absently set his radio's microphone aside and leaned back until his chair creaked, then frowned as he noticed Justin Byers standing in the doorway of the office.

"Didn't want to interrupt," Byers said.

"Nothing to interrupt. Just patrols reporting in. Have you got something to report?"

"I've got a question, Sheriff."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"I was just wondering if you'd know why George Caldwell spent hours at the courthouse just a week or so before he died, studying birth records for Lacombe Parish. I can't find anything at his apartment to explain what he was doing or why."

Ethan stared at the detective. "Birth records?"

"Yeah."

"How do you know he was doing that?"

"Somebody saw him. And according to the clerk, those were the records he asked to see. Birth records. For the last forty years."

"Not work-related?"

"According to what I've been able to find out, no. But more than one person has told me he sometimes dug around in parish and court records, apparently just out of interest."

Ethan grunted. "He was always a nosy bastard."

"Then maybe it was just curiosity."

"The clerk didn't know if he was looking for anything more specific?"

"No. And as far as I can make out, if he copied any of the records he looked at, he didn't have the copies anywhere in his apartment or his office. Unless, of course, the killer took the copies."

Slowly, Ethan said, "That's a pretty big if. You don't know that George found whatever it was he was looking for, or even if he was looking for anything specific, much less if it had anything to do with his death."

"No," Byers admitted. "I don't. But so far, it's the most interesting unanswered question I can find in George Caldwell's immediate past."

"Then I suggest you find an answer to that question,

Detective," Ethan said. "And be polite when you ask the clerk for help. Libby Gettys is worse than my old grammar school teacher about manners."

Serious as usual, Byers didn't react to the attempt at humor other than with a solemn nod. "I'll check it out. But forty years' worth of birth records will take time to sift through, especially when I don't know what I'm looking for."

"Understood. Do your best. And, Justin? Keep this under your hat for the time being. There's no reason to give the gossips something else to speculate about."

Byers nodded, still solemn, and left.

Ethan stared across the office, feeling that creeping sensation of dread moving even closer.

"Shit," he muttered.

Nell paused at the bottom of the stairs. Through the front screen door she could see that the sheriff's department cruiser was gone, and Max was nowhere to be seen. But he was nearby, she knew that.

She crossed the foyer to what was clearly Max's office or study and went into the room The desk lamp and a couple of other lights were on, as well as a PC running a martial-arts-theme screen saver, and a ledger was open on the blotter. She didn't have to use any of her extra senses to figure out that he had been working in here when the deputies arrived.

Probably waiting with all the patience he could scrape together for her to come out of the blackout and tell him what the hell was going on.

Nell hadn't let herself think very much about the trip from Randal Patterson's house, though she wasn't surprised that Max had brought her here rather than take her to a doctor or hospital. He had never under-stood her abilities or the blackouts, but she had convinced him they were normal for her, and she doubted he would have overreacted to her sudden unconsciousness.