Кей Хупер - Whisper of Evil

"And Nate McCurry?"

"Too early to know anything for certain. But judging by what you said about the way that scarf was tied, it's at least possible he was killed by a woman."

"And Shelby's idea that it could have been something done to mislead us?"

"That is also possible." Nell sighed. "When I checked my e-mail a little while ago, there was a note from Quantico that they haven't had any luck tracking down either her or Glen Sabella, so one or both of them could be nearby."

"But how likely is that?" Max objected. "Nearby all these months yet not seen by anyone? Besides which, everyone seems agreed that this killer is psychic in an unusually powerful way, and you're positive Hailey never has been."

"You think it's a coincidence that the first three victims were all her past lovers?"

"I think the term lover is stretching the truth a mile, but, no, I don't think it's a coincidence. I just don't think Hailey killed those men."

"Then they were killed because of her." The moment the words were out of her mouth, Nell realized with an odd little chill that it was the truth. "Because of her," she repeated slowly.

Max was frowning. "We know Patterson played his masochistic little games with Hailey in his basement when she was just a kid, and according to Ethan, Lynch dressed her up like a little girl for his sexual kicks. What about Ferrier? You said they were involved, but you didn't say he hurt her."

"I don't think he did." Nell shook her head slowly. "At least not in a way that Hailey didn't somehow enjoy."

"Yuck," Shelby murmured.

Nell agreed with a grimace. "It isn't what most women would enjoy, but Hailey… seemed to enjoy it, even revel in it, at least judging by what I saw. Still, that doesn't mean he didn't abuse her in some way."

Galen said, "Maybe from the perspective of an outsider, he did. Maybe all these men — at least aside from Caldwell — are being killed to punish them for what they did to Hailey."

"Because they hurt her?" Shelby said.

"Maybe," Nell said. "Or because they… corrupted her. This killer, whoever he is, could have blamed the men rather than Hailey for her lifestyle. He sees or somehow knows about the secretive, sexually brutal relationships, and he believes those men defiled her."

"Because he's in love with her?" Galen suggested.

"Could be. Hate and jealousy combined can be powerful motivators."

"Why start killing them when he did?" Max asked, then answered his own question. "Because she left. She ran away with another man. got disinherited by her own father, so it wasn't likely she'd come back, and the killer blamed all the men in her life for taking her away from him."

"It tracks," Justin said. "And making it harder for us, the killer himself might never have had any direct contact with Hailey; plenty of scorned lovers are scorned only in their imaginations and fantasy lives."

Intently, Shelby said, "So he might have built up this whole relationship with Hailey in his mind, put her on a pedestal, fantasized about her — and then he began to find out about these other men. But instead of her falling off the pedestal, he saw her as a victim and blamed the men who had victimized her."

"It was probably the only way he could allow him-self to go on loving her," Nell said. "Self-deception is one of our strongest defense mechanisms."

Shelby reached over to tap the file of birth records. "So what do these have to do with it?"

Nell tried to remember the flash she'd gotten at the courthouse, but it had been more a fleeting image and sense of knowledge than an actual vision. "I don't know. Maybe nothing, directly. I mean, it might have nothing to do with Hailey at all, just some bit of information the killer didn't want exposed. Maybe something that linked him to one or all of the first three murders."

"Oh, great," Justin muttered. "Let's widen the range of possibilities even more. Why is it that each time we find out or figure out something new, it does nothing except give us too much to think about?"

"Murphy's law," Shelby offered.

"The question is," Galen said, "what's our next step?" He was looking at Nell.

Rather than answer that directly, she said, "Justin, Ethan was planning to go over the birth records tonight, wasn't he?"

"Yeah, from what he said. The last few weeks, he's pretty much worked 'til long after midnight and then sacked out on the couch in his office for a few hours. I'd expect more of the same tonight, especially after another murder. And Shelby and I can vouch for the fact that it'd take one person hours and hours to go over all these records."

"I'm certainly not likely to see anything you two missed," Nell said. "You're a good cop, and Shelby knows this town and its people. So as far as these records go, we'll just have to see if Ethan notices anything."

Max said, "It's too late for you to check out Caldwell's apartment or Nate McCurry's house tonight, even if you were up to it. And considering the possibility that the killer is somehow influencing you when you do try to use your abilities —"

"I'm still not sure that's possible," Nell objected, as she had when Galen and Max had brought up the subject earlier.

"You know it's possible," Galen said.

"Yeah, I know it's technically possible for a strong enough psychic to influence another's mind. I just don't believe I could be influenced and not know it. Not feel it somehow."

"If he's only able to reach you while you're asleep or in a blackout," Max pointed out, "how would you know? Nell, you've been blacking out too often, and it always seems to be either immediately after a vision or when you've pushed yourself too hard. Who's to say he hasn't found a way to make damned sure if you get too close to figuring out who he is you'll black out?"

"Even if that's true, I can't stop looking for him," Nell said. "It's my job, the reason I'm here."

"Yeah, we know that. I know that. But you won't solve this if you're out cold or worse. All I'm saying is that it might not be such a good idea for you to try to use your abilities again, at least not anytime soon."

"In the meantime," Galen said after checking his watch, "it's nearly ten, and I think we'll all agree it's been a very long day. What say we start fresh in the morning?"

Nell was conscious of an uneasy sense of time ticking away, but told herself it was only because things were finally starting to come together now. That was all.

"Suits me," she said firmly.

It was after eight when Ethan finally managed to settle down at his desk with the copies of parish birth records, and he was so tired by then he was afraid he wouldn't see something important if it reared up and bit him on the nose. Still, he grimly drank black coffee, turned his office television to CNN with the volume down low, and began going through the records.

It must have been at least a couple of hours and several cups of coffee later that one of the records caught his attention and made him concentrate harder. He'd already found the birth records for several of his deputies and most of the thirty-five-to-forty-year-olds he knew in town without seeing anything odd, but something about this record nagged at him.

Why?

Place, time, father's name, mother's name —

Mother's name.

Ethan Cole knew the history and people of Silence very well indeed. He'd made it his business to know, and for a good many years. So he was pretty current in terms of who was getting divorced or married, who was expecting a baby, who might be in trouble financially, who had drinking problems, and who was cheating on a spouse.

But that was now. Facts dealing with events in his earliest life and even before his birth were not things that had particularly interested him. Like most kids, he had accepted things at face value, so if a childhood acquaintance had mentioned at some point that his mother — his real mother — had died years before, Ethan wouldn't have questioned or doubted. He'd probably felt no more than a quick rush of fellowship for another semi-orphan and may even have complained himself that his own father's remarriage to