Кей Хупер - Whisper of Evil

"How the hell is she supposed to protect herself against that kind of thing?"

"She can't," Galen answered matter-of-factly. "Oh, she could throw up a shield around her mind, but she's not a telepath, so it's never been anything she had to learn in order to protect herself. Odds are, it wouldn't be a solid enough shield to shut out someone as powerful as this guy seems to be, especially given the fact that Nell's resources aren't exactly at their peak right now. Blocking a link is one thing; keeping out a determined psychopath who doesn't give a shit about kicking a door in is something else entirely."

"You said there was another agent here, a telepath —"

"Yeah, but helping Nell shore up her mental shields isn't something just any telepath can do. Psychics are oddly isolated in their abilities, unable to link up to help each other or increase their strength. There's only one exception I know of."

"Which is?"

"Mates. It seems to demand a very special sort of trust, and a lot more intimacy than most of us could stand, to allow two psychics to bond deeply enough to share their abilities."

After a moment, Max said, "And if one of the… mates isn't psychic? What kind of bond can there be then?"

"You'd know that better than I would." Galen waited until Max met his gaze, then added, "But from what I've been told, the bond between lovers when only one is psychic is different from couple to couple. It depends on how strong the psychic is. And how strong the physical and emotional connections between the lovers are. Sometimes there's an actual telepathic or empathic link, sometimes not."

"Not an area that's been intensively researched, I guess."

"Not even by us. Like I said, it's difficult to keep secrets among a group of psychics, but even so, some things are more private than others."

"Yeah." Max almost visibly pushed the subject aside, at least for the moment. "Listen, before Nell gets down here, there's one more thing." He turned to the mantel and picked up a framed photograph, handing it to Galen.

Studying it, Galen saw an old family photo that appeared to be professionally done. It had been taken from the front of the house, with Adam Gallagher, his young wife, and his mother standing on the steps, and two other women in the background near the front door. Grace Gallagher looked both unhappy and several months pregnant, and the two women in the background appeared, from their aprons and position in the photo, to be family servants.

"What am I supposed to be seeing?" Galen asked.

"Just before she blacked out, Nell was fiddling with this picture. Sort of looking at it, but not really." Max shrugged. "We were — let's just say the discussion was a bit tense."

"Okay. And so?"

"And so, all of a sudden, she frowned at the picture, started to ask who someone was — and went out like a light. I checked the back of the photo, and from the date I'd say it was taken a few months before Hailey was born."

"Nell would know her parents, of course. Her grandmother. So it must have been one of these other women who caught her attention."

"That's what I thought. As I recall, there were times when Adam Gallagher did well enough with his investments that the family had quite a bit of household help, especially in those early years. Not live-in servants, but certainly a housekeeper and cook who came in daily."

Galen nodded. "Wasn't this something Nell knew? I mean, even if this was taken before she was born, wouldn't she just assume these other women were employees? It's fairly obvious from the pose and their clothing that they are. Weird that they'd be included in a family photo, but —"

"Not weird if you knew Adam Gallagher. He liked to see himself as the benevolent patriarch and lord of all he surveyed; having the household help visible in a family photo just enhanced his image of himself."

Galen lifted an eyebrow, but said only, "Then I'd think Nell's natural assumption would be that these women were servants. So why her interest in one or both of them?"

"What bothered me was that she wasn't even able to finish the question. It was like… like as soon as she paid attention to the photo, she was put out of commission."

"Because she maybe got too close to whatever our psychic killer is trying to protect. Or… the timing could be completely coincidental."

Max nodded. "Or it could be coincidental. Problem is, the only way I can think of to test that theory is to have Nell look at the photo again."

"And maybe be put out of commission for a couple of hours again — or something more permanent."

"Exactly. Not a risk I want to take. So I was thinking maybe you could look into it. Tap some of those FBI sources and see if you can put names to the faces. Look, it's probably nothing. But maybe there's a reason Nell isn't supposed to ask questions about one or both of those women."

Galen nodded and turned the frame over so he could open the back and get the photo out. "I can use

Nell's laptop, scan this in, and modem it to Quantico. But unless one of these women has a criminal record or has come up missing or murdered, we aren't likely to find them in FBI files. This is a professional shot, probably taken by what is — or was — a local photographer; that's not really the kind of thing you tend to find in federal computer databases. You know anybody local who could check it out discreetly?"

Max hesitated, then said, "Maybe."

Galen smiled faintly. "You could always get Justin Byers to do it. After all — he is your man in Silence. Isn't he?"

"I just don't know why you didn't tell me sooner."

"Because I wasn't supposed to." Shelby frowned at Justin. "Nell told me not to say anything unless and until there was another murder." Her frown deepened. "Come to think of it, she said when , not if. I think she was expecting this. Poor Nate."

"If she's an FBI agent, of course she was expecting it. You say they developed a profile, so they knew damned well there was likely to be another murder." Justin sounded more than a little put upon.

"I think it was more than that." Shelby shook her head. "Never mind. The point is that Nell asked me to… um… suggest this line of investigation to you. The birth records. It wasn't something she could openly do herself and still be undercover, and she knew you could be trusted."

Justin eyed her somewhat grimly. "And she knew this how?"

"She just knew. Seemed completely sure. Hey, she's psychic. I figured she'd know if anybody would. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"No. Thank you. I just stopped by to ask if you knew anything useful about Nate McCurry. And to tell you Sheriff Cole wants to go over the birth records himself."

"Don't know much about Nate, at least not anything likely to help solve his murder. As for Ethan, you don't seem too bothered by his interest in those records." She smiled suddenly. "You got word you could trust him, right?"

Justin silently counted to ten, but even so his voice was somewhat tight when he said, "And how long have you known that?"

"Um… a while."

"Something else you weren't supposed to tell me?"

Shelby grimaced slightly in apology. "I'm sorry, Justin, but I promised Nell I'd do exactly what she told me to. It was almost like she… knew things had to happen in a certain order, that it was important they did. Or maybe it's less a psychic thing and more FBI investigative techniques. Either way, 1 promised I'd follow her instructions to the letter."

"Uh-huh. So how long did it take you to find those photographs that seemingly implicated Cole?"

"Not all that long," Shelby responded brightly. "He does talk to just about everybody, you know, and I have pictures of him going back years, so it wasn't hard. Of course, I did have to fudge the dates a little bit to make it look like he'd talked to the murdered men just before they were killed, but —"