Кей Хупер - Out of the Shadows

Bonnie? It's all right, sweetie, we're here. Come out.

Heartbeats passed, seconds during which Miranda had the fearful awareness that Bishop's struggle was taking a toll on him even with her energy bolstering his; Harrison wanted to live again, and that was a drive so primal it made him almost too strong to fight.

Almost.

Abruptly, the crystal cocoon vanished and Bonnie was there, pale and frightened, but calm, just as she had been when another killer had held her hostage.

Tell me what to do, Randy.

Miranda took her hand, connecting them as they had never before been connected in their lives. Concentrate. We need all your will, all your determination to be rid of this bastard.

I hate him. Bonnie's spirit was surprisingly strong. He killed Mama and Daddy and Kara. I want to destroy him, Randy. I. . . want. . . him . . . gone!

Miranda felt those emotions, that utter determination, flow through her, the energy sharp and powerful as it coursed in a dynamic surge through the link to Bishop.

Miranda saw Harrison's spirit weaken, saw his frustrated rage, heard his howl of wild protest as Bishop's hands closed around his throat with new power.

This time , Bishop told him with relentless certainty, I'll send you straight to hell.

To Seth and his father, silently watching, the struggle was no less dramatic for being utterly silent. Bishop and Miranda held hands, their free hands touching Bonnie, their eyes closed. And slowly, as the minutes ticked past, things started to happen. Their faces drained of color. Their bodies seemed to sway.

Seth shifted uneasily and whispered, "Do you feel that?"

His father nodded and held up his arm. The fine brown hairs stood straight out from the skin. "And there's a hum," he murmured. "I can feel it more than hear it. Like — "

"Current," Seth said. "Electrical current."

They watched intently for another full minute. And then, abruptly, Miranda and Bishop caught their breath and opened their eyes.

Colin and Seth both jumped, and at the same moment the room's door slammed shut with a bang.

"He's gone," Miranda murmured. "This time for good."

"Jesus," Colin said.

"Did it work?" Seth demanded.

He was answered when Bonnie blinked and murmured shakily, "Has anybody got an aspirin?"

Seth more or less launched himself at her, his relief overwhelming, but his father's attention was on the two standing on the other side of the bed.

They held on to each other, barely able to keep on their feet and clearly on the point of exhaustion, their faces drawn and weary but also quietly triumphant. They looked like two people who had literally fought a war and emerged in some way stronger and more complete.

But there was something else, one more thing that drew Colin's gaze and held it in a fascination that was only partly clinical. "I guess," he said, "there's always a cost, isn't there? A scar earned in battle."

Miranda blinked at him, then looked up at Bishop. She was only a little startled by what she saw, and reached to touch his left temple, where a vivid streak of white hair had appeared.

"Family trait," he said.

Monday, January 24

"Well," Tony said, "in case we needed it, we have verification that MacBride's car has the right set of tires, that he ran ads looking for 'willing hands for light work' up until he got involved with the town government ten years ago and then apparently found some of his victims among those answering town and county ads, that both the knife and handcuffs we found in Ramsay's car can be traced to him, along with the ash in that cigar box — which came out of his own personal crematorium — and that the hairs we found out at the old mill-house belonged to him."

"Nice to know," Alex responded gravely, "that good old-fashioned police work can accomplish so much." He was grateful to Tony; the very talkative and humorous agent had kept his mind engaged during the past days — and off a loss he still wasn't ready to face.

"Isn't it?" Tony buffed his fingernails on his shirt.

Accepting his role as straight man, Alex continued. "Of course, given that we also have more than thirty jars holding various body parts, seventeen years' worth of meticulous files detailing every atrocity, and MacBride's journal in which he waxed grotesquely poetic, I'd say everything else is pretty much superfluous."

"You just wanted to use that word," Tony accused.

Alex was saved from having to defend himself when Miranda walked into the conference room. She handed Tony a sheaf of papers, saying, "Add this to the file on MacBride. They're still reading and analyzing his journal, but it appears that what he told us about Adam Ramsay being hired to do yard work and getting a little too curious was the truth. Adam was hired to trim back the bushes around the basement. Apparently, he did a little exploring. And it seems he was very good with padlocks." In a wondering tone, she added, "I'll never understand how anyone could look at the horrors in that room and not run screaming."

"Instead of collecting select items for blackmail purposes?" Alex shook his head, equally baffled. "I guess it takes all kinds. The same town that produced Adam Ramsay also produced our very own Frankenstein. Except that MacBride wanted to tear bodies apart rather than stitch them together." He refused to allow himself to think about Liz.

Not yet. Not yet.

Not until he could stand the pain.

Miranda sighed. "I'm just glad most of the press is camped out around his house instead of here. I'm tired of having microphones stuck in my face and questions shouted in my ears, and I hate seeing myself on the evening news."

Coming into the room just then, Bishop said, "No way are they going to stop aiming cameras at you, love. They've found their hook. Beautiful sheriff hunts down vicious serial killer and makes her town safe again."

Miranda lifted an eyebrow at him. "You forgot the 'aided by handsome, enigmatic FBI agent.' That was today's addition."

To Alex, Tony said, "Don't you feel invisible?"

"And unloved," Alex said sadly.

Looking at Bishop, Miranda said, "We've got to separate these two. They're getting worse every day."

"I thought we were getting better," Tony said, injured. "A little comedy to leaven the tragedy hereabouts."

Deadpan, Miranda said, "A very little comedy."

Alex sighed. "Misunderstood again. It's very disheartening."

Bishop shook his head at Miranda. "I told you to just say the word and I'd take you away from all this. Well, from part of this — Tony's on the team, I'm afraid."

Tony brightened visibly and grinned at Miranda. "Oh, are you coming to play with us?"

"I have a term as sheriff to finish," she said.

As if she hadn't spoken, Bishop went on, "After all, we've solved our little telepathic problem, so we'll be able to work together without ever having to worry about..."

"Self-denial?" Tony finished limpidly.

Miranda eyed him. "You weren't supposed to figure that out."

"I'm very bright," he apologized.

Not quite under his breath, Alex muttered, "Hell, even I figured it out."

In a determined voice, Bishop said, "After helping Bonnie, we ended up with a much tougher and more durable link, that's all I meant. Nothing mutes our abilities these days, and there's no denying we're stronger together than either of us is alone. So there's nothing to stop us working together."

"Except my job. And Bonnie. I'd hate to take her out of school, and I doubt I could take her away from Seth."

"Seth is going to college in the fall," Bishop reminded her. "Lots of great universities in Virginia. And I have a hunch Bonnie wouldn't mind the move too much."