Sliding two fingers into his pocket, he fished out the lighter and handed it to her.
She lit the tip of the cigarette, sucked in a long, deep drag of smoke. “I am not afraid.” Her voice croaked with the harsh chemicals filtering through her lungs. “I’m just frustrated that I can’t catch this bastard and bring those women home before he kills them.” She turned her face up to Wyatt’s. “Honestly,” she searched his eyes, “I wish he would make a play for me. At least then I could do something besides nothing.”
“That’s it.” Fury mushroomed in his chest. “You should not be working this case.” He moved his head firmly side to side. “I must’ve been out of my mind to let you in this deep in the first place.”
“Like you could’ve stopped me.” She tossed the cigarette to the pavement. “Those women will be dead very soon if they’re not already.”
One dead princess . . .
“I’m aware of that.” The rage drained away, leaving a sense of helplessness that no lawman ever wanted to feel.
“I’m the only connection, remember?” she said, reminding him of his own words. “Letting him take me may be the only way we can break this case.”
“No way.”
She went toe to toe with him. “See.” Accusation flared in her eyes. “This isn’t supposed to be personal, Wyatt. This is an official investigation. I’m not a civilian. Going undercover to nail a perp is a routine operation.”
“There’s a hell of a difference between going undercover and being nabbed by a man who in all likelihood is some sort of psycho. We have absolutely no reason to believe the vics are still alive. No way of knowing if either of them lived past the moment of attack. What the hell good could you do for the case if you’re dead, too?”
“You need to watch more TV.” She pushed past him, then paused at the door. “I’m putting you on notice.” Her determined gaze backed up her words. “We had sex this morning. It changes nothing about the dynamics of this investigation. Don’t even think about going there.” She jerked the door open but hesitated again, glancing back at him once more. “Whatever this princess thing is, it ends with me.”
Then she walked in, let the door close behind her.
What the hell was he going to do with her?
27
Adeline squared her shoulders and reentered the conference room. She moved to the seat she’d vacated but didn’t sit down. Instead, she surveyed the law enforcement personnel around the table. Wyatt waltzed in and Sullenger’s face beamed. Adeline resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“Here’s the deal,” Adeline began. “I don’t swim. I don’t do water sports of any kind. No boats. No nothing. I have nightmares about drowning.” She fixed her attention on Ferguson. “Cherry Prescott had recently started having nightmares about drowning her daughter.” Before the man could rationalize or dismiss that fact, Adeline pushed on. “She was so terrified of what she might do to her daughter that she refused to bathe her. I don’t know what this means.” Adeline turned her palms up. “I don’t believe in psychic connections or any of that shit. But this is real.” Her gaze bored into Ferguson’s. “Trust me, the fear Cherry felt—if it was anything like mine—is damned real.” Adeline shifted her gaze to Cummings. “Call the husband. Call her friends. Whoever you have to. Find out if Penny was afraid of the water. In the past or now. Whether we understand how it relates to this case or not, we need to know.”
Silence thickened in the air for three seconds.
Womack shuffled his papers, cleared his throat. “We’ve had a few crank calls related to the disappearances.”
Adeline’s attention flew to him. “Explain.”
“As you all know, we’ve taken hundreds of calls,” Womack went on. “In the beginning some were useful. A couple of locals who saw Prescott in town the day she went missing. But, for the most part, they’ve been a waste of time. A blond woman might have been spotted but it wasn’t Prescott. It happens anytime you have a high profile case like this.”
Making a rolling motion with her hand, Adeline urged him to get to the point. Since he’d brought the subject up, he must have a point.
“But late yesterday I got a weird one.”
“Weird how?” Wyatt asked.
Adeline kept her gaze away from him. Each time she looked him in the eye she understood one very important fact. She was a liar. This morning had changed everything. He’d gotten all the way inside her ... physically, mentally. She had to focus on this case. If there was any chance Prescott and Arnold were still alive, Adeline had to do all within her power to find them. And to stop this psycho bastard.
“Well,” Womack said, “we’ve had a few. Aliens took her. That sort of thing. But this one was different.” The older detective’s gaze settled on Adeline’s. “This one claimed to be one of those psychics you don’t believe in.”
Anticipation andfearpounded from Adeline’s every pore. He wouldn’t have brought this up if there wasn’t something bigger coming ... something relevant. “What’d she have to say?” The tiny hairs on her body lifted as if on some level she sensed this was immensely important.
“The caller claimed the women were close to the water,” Womack shook his head, “and that if we didn’t find them soon they would beunderthe water.”
Chills spilled across Adeline’s skin. Her core temperature dropped significantly. “I want to talk to her. Bring her in. Today. Now.”
Womack looked from her to Wyatt, who gave him a nod. “I’ll get right on it.”
A cell phone buzzed.