Kay Hooper - Touching Evil

Jennifer was alone in the conference room, looking over the arrest report she'd requested from the Central precinct on David Robson, when Andy came in, looking harried and tired.

"Sanctuary," he muttered. "My kingdom for an hour or two of sanctuary."

"I'd grant it if I could," she said sympathetically. "But you know the minute the switchboard doesn't find you at your desk, the phones in here will start ringing."

"Yeah, I know." He sat down with a sigh. "You should be gone. How many hours have you put in today?"

"I'm off the clock."

"That's not what I asked you."

Jennifer shrugged. "Look, I didn't want to go home and figured I might as well be busy."

"Doing what?"

She tapped the report with a finger. "Following a very unlikely lead, trying to track down a transient who might have seen something helpful."

Andy grunted. "Where's Scott?"

"Gone for a pizza. We were hungry and he wanted some fresh air." She watched him, worried by the circles under his eyes and the tense line of his jaw. "I guess you haven't heard anything from Maggie? I mean, about her talking to Hollis Templeton?"

"No, nothing yet. And whatever she's got to say might not be relevant anyway."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Hell, no."

"Yeah. Our entire world does seem to have narrowed down just to this investigation, doesn't it?"

"You'd think." He sighed again. "The M.E. has promised to work on Samantha Mitchell ASAP, but neither one of us thinks he'll find anything new. One glance told him what it told the rest of us: She was alive when her throat was cut, and died from blood loss."

"Then that with the baby was done… after?"

Andy's jaw tightened even more. "A minute or two after, the M.E. thinks. The baby was probably still alive."

Jennifer hadn't expected that-or the jolt she felt hearing it. "Christ."

"Needless to say, we're going to try to keep that fact out of the media's hands."

"Does Mitchell know?"

"No, and if I have my way he never will."

She stared down at the arrest report. "Andy, is there something we're missing? Something we should have done and didn't?"

"Nothing I can think of. Don't beat yourself up about it, Jenn. We've had virtually no evidence, no witnesses able to give us a description, and no predictable pattern to the attacks-so far, at least. The closest we've come to a lead of any kind is thanks to you and Scott."

"Some lead," she said, sounding as discouraged as she felt. "We have a few sketches and photos of victims from a string of murders in 1934, and maybe our guy somehow got access to them, but so far the only thing we can be reasonably sure of is that he's going after look-alikes."

Before Andy could respond, the phone rang, and he picked up the receiver with a resigned grimace.

"Yeah?" He listened for a minute, absently watching Jennifer continue going through the file in front of her, then said, "Okay. Tell him I'm on my way."

When he hung up the phone, Jennifer said, "Our Luke again?"

Andy used the table for leverage to push himself to his feet. "Yeah, dammit."

"He's still refusing to ask the FBI for help?"

"He'd refuse to yell help if his pants were on fire, Jenn, you know that." He sighed. "But I think we need to bring John's friends in, and I mean officially. I'm about a breath away from calling the chief directly myself."

She shook her head. "Don't do that. We both know Drummond would never forgive or forget, and he could do your career a lot of damage."

"And maybe I don't give a shit."

This time, Jennifer smiled. "Yes, you do. And so do the rest of us, in case you didn't know that. We need you right where you are, Andy. But I agree it's time something drastic was done. I don't have to hear a shrink explain it to know that now that he's started killing his victims outright, this bastard is only going to get more vicious with every day that passes. We have to stop him, and we have to stop him soon. Is there another way around Drummond? A way to bring pressure to bear on him without any of us sticking our necks out?"

"Maybe. I hate not being able to handle this ourselves, though."

"Um… isn't that sort of the way our Luke is thinking?"

He stared at her. "Christ, you're right. You'd think I'd have learned by now to yell for help when I need it."

"John could help, I'll bet," she suggested. "I think Maggie could as well, the way the chief feels about her. And you know both of them would in a heartbeat if it means we'd have a better chance of stopping this monster. I'll bet neither one has yet only because they don't want to step on your toes."

"Yeah, probably."

"I don't know if these agents can help us," Jennifer said steadily. "But from all John said, they have a hell of a lot of experience in tracking monsters, and both of them are profilers. They may be able to tell us something we'd never come up with ourselves. I think we need to hear whatever they've got to say."

"I think you're right." Andy nodded and turned away from the conference table, adding, "I might try Maggie first, mostly because I think both the chief and Drummond would take that a bit better. But we'll see."

Jennifer didn't want to admit either to him or to herself how relieved she felt. It wasn't that she didn't feel herself or her coworkers capable of solving a string of brutal attacks, it was just that she was afraid that without help the solution might well come at a very high price.

And with six women attacked so far, three of them dead, the price was already too high.

Maggie knew she had no business talking to Hollis, not tonight. The previous day had been an emotional ordeal, and today had not been much better; discussing the unbelievable, even the unthinkable, with John had demanded such absolute mastery of her own emotions that the aftermath left her feeling drained and incredibly weary.

So she was feeling more than a little vulnerable when she knocked, pushed open Hollis's door, and went into the hospital room where the other woman was sitting as usual in one of the two chairs near the window.

As soon as Maggie came in, Hollis said, "The nurses are pissed at me. They want me in bed, or at least ready to be there. Can't understand why I won't at least get undressed."

"Why won't you?" Maggie asked, sitting down and absently opening her sketch pad to a clean page.

"Because I don't feel so defenseless, I suppose." Her hands were gripping the arms of her chair, knuckles whitened tensely. "Or maybe just because I'm sick of that damned bed."

"I can't say I blame you for that. You must be sick of being here at all. Will your doctors let you go home after the bandages come off on Thursday?"

"They aren't saying, but I gather it depends on how the operation turned out. If I can see, I'll be ready to go home. If I can't…"

Maggie didn't need to hear the rest. If she remained blind, then Hollis would need further medical help to adjust to that fact, especially after having her hopes raised by the operation. She hesitated, then said, "I don't know how you feel about the so-called paranormal-"

Hollis gave a peculiar little laugh. "Funny you should say that."

"Why?"

"I'll… explain later. I feel fairly open-minded about it, all things considered. Why?"

"Because someone I trust, someone who happens to have the ability to see the future, told me that whether you see again is entirely up to you."

"That sounds fairly enigmatic." Hollis didn't sound either convinced or unconvinced, merely neutral.

"I know. I didn't understand it myself, but the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced he meant that while the operation could be an unqualified success, there's a lot the mind has to accept before everything works as it should."

"These borrowed eyes in my head, you mean?"