One of my men, Theo Baker, will meet you at the airport and drive you to your hotel, McBride said. Ill be by this evening unless something comes up in the case. Please, try not to worry until we know what it is we have to worry about.
Andrew Walterss bitter laugh was the last thing McBride heard before the man hung up.
McBride slumped in his chair, anger churning in his gut. The world was mostly a terrible place, full of monsters. Killers, rapists, pedophiles, users, abusers McBride had seen them all, their evil masked by such ordinary faces.
A monster had taken Abby Walters, and the longer he kept her, the less hope they had of ever getting her back alive.
McBride picked up Abbys photo, his expression softening at the sight of her gap-toothed grin. Where are you, baby?
She wasnt really a pretty child, all knees, elbows and freckles, but in the picture, the sheer joy of life danced in her bright blue eyes. People would notice a kid like Abby Walters. Even in the photo, she had a way about her.
Her picture had certainly affected Lily Browning, though not how McBride had expected. When hed shown Abbys picture to others at the school, the grinning child immediately brought smiles to their faces. But Lily had looked ill from the start.
She was keeping secrets.
About Abby Walters? McBride couldnt say for sure, but sixteen years as a cop had honed his suspicious nature to a fine edge. He knew she couldnt have been in on the kidnapping; witness testimony had narrowed down Debra Walterss time of death to sometime between seven-twenty and eight-thirty in the morning. According to Carmen Herrera, Lily Browning had been in a meeting at six-thirty and hadnt left it until seven-forty, when students started trickling in. Shed been in class after that.
But he couldnt forget her odd reaction to Abbys photo.
On a hunch, McBride pulled up the DMV database on his computer and punched in Lily Brownings name. While he waited for the response, he mentally replayed his meeting with her.
Hed noticed her eyes first. Large, more gold than brown, framed by long, dark lashes. Behind those eyes lay mysteries. Of that much, McBride was certain.
She was in her twentiesmid to late, he guessed. With clear, unblemished skin as pale as milk, maybe due to the headache. Or was she naturally that fair? In stark contrast, her hair was almost black, worn shoulder-length and loose, with a natural wave that danced when she moved.
She was beautiful in the way that wild things were beautiful. He got the impression of a woman apart, alone, always on the fringes. Never quite fitting in.
A loner with secrets. Never a good combination.
The file came up finally, and McBride took a look. Lily Browning, no middle initial given. Twenty-nine years old, brown hair, brown eyesgold eyes, he amended mentally. An address on Okmulgee Road, not far from the school. McBride knew the area. Older bungalow-style homes, quiet neighborhood, modest property values. Which told him exactly nothing.
Lily Browning wasnt a suspect. She was just a strange woman with honey-colored eyes whose skin had felt like warm velvet beneath his fingers.
Irritated, he checked the clock. Almost four. Walterss plane would have touched down by now and Baker would be with him, calming his fears. Baker was good at that.
McBride wasnt.
He was a bit of a loner with secrets himself.
As he started to close the computer file, his phone rang again. He stared at it for a moment, dread creeping up on him.
Abby Walterss photo stared up at him from the desk.
He grabbed the receiver. McBride, he growled.
Silence.
He sensed someone on the other end. Hello? he said.
Detective McBride? A hesitant voice came over the line, resonating with apprehension. Lily Brownings voice.
Ms. Browning.
He heard a soft intake of breath, but she didnt speak.
This is Lily Browning, right? He knew he sounded impatient. He didnt care.
Yes.
Subconsciously, hed been waiting for her call. Tamping down growing apprehension, he schooled his voice, kept it low and soothing. Do you know something about Abby?
Not exactly. She sounded reluctant and afraid.
He tightened his grip on the phone. Then whyd you call?
You asked if Id seen Abby this morning. I said no. A soft sigh whispered over the phone. That wasnt exactly true.
McBrides muscles bunched as a burst of adrenaline flushed through his system. You saw her this morning at school?
No, not at the school. Her voice faded.
Then where? Away from school? Had Ms. Herrera been wrong? Had Lily slipped away from the meeting, after all?
The silence on Lily Brownings end of the line dragged on for several seconds. McBride stifled the urge to throw the phone across the room. Ms. Browning, where did you see Abby Walters?
He heard a deep, quivery breath. In my mind, she said.
McBride slumped in his chair, caught flat-footed by her answer. It wasnt at all what hed expected.
A witness, sure. A suspecteven better. But a psychic?
Bloody hell.
Chapter Two
Heavy silence greeted Lilys answer.
Are you there? She clutched the phone, her stomach cramping.
Im here. His tight voice rumbled over the phone. And you should know we dont pay psychics for information.
Pay?
Thats why youre calling, isnt it? His words were clipped and diamond hard. Whats your usual fee, a hundred an hour? Two hundred?
I dont have a fee, she responded, horrified.
So youre in it for the publicity.
No! She slammed down the phone, pain blooming like a poisonous flower behind her eyes.
The couch cushion shifted beside her and a furry head bumped against her elbow. Lily dropped one hand to stroke the cats brown head. Oh, Delilah, that was a mistake.
The Siamese cat made a soft prrrupp sound and butted her head against Lilys chin. Jezebel joined them on the sofa, poking her nose into Lilys ribs. Groaning, she nudged the cats off her lap and staggered to her feet. Half-blinded by the migraine, she made her way down the hall to her bedroom.
The headaches had never been as bad back home in Willow Grove, with her sister Iris always around to brew up a cup of buckbean tea and work her healing magic. But Willow Grove was one hour and a million light-years away.
The phone rang. Lily started to let the answering machine get it when she saw Iriss face float across the blackness of her mind. She fumbled for the phone. Iris?
Her sisters warm voice trembled with laughter. Im minding my own business, drying some lavender, and suddenly I get an urge to call you. So, Spooky, what do you need?
The warm affection in her voice brought tears to Lilys eyes. Buckbean tea and a little TLC.
Did you have a vision? Iriss voice held no laughter now.
A bad one. Lily told her sister about Abby Walters. The detective on the case thinks Im a lunatic. She didnt want to examine why that fact bothered her. She was used to being considered crazy. Why should McBrides opinion matter?
What can I do to help? Iris asked.
Does your magic work over the phone?
Does your magic work over the phone?
Iris laughed. Its not magic, you know. Its just
A gift. I know. Thats what their mother had always called it. Iriss gift. Or Roses or Lilys.
Lily called hers a curse. Seeing terrified little girls crying for their daddies. Broken bodies at the bottom of a ditch, rain swirling away the last vestiges of their life-blood. Her own fathers life snuffed out in a sawmill across town
Stop it, Lily. Her sisters voice was low and strangled. Its too much all at once.
Lily tried to close off her memories, knowing that her sisters empathic gift came with its own pain. Im sorry.
Iris took a deep breath. Do you want me to come there?
No, Im feeling better. Not a complete lie, Lily thought. Her headache had eased a little. Just a little. Sorry I called you away from your lavender.
Iris laughed. Sometimes I listen to us talk and understand why people think the Browning sisters are crazy.
Lily laughed through the pain. Ill visit soon, okay? Meanwhile, dont you or Rose get yourselves run out of town.
Iriss wry laughter buzzed across the line. Or burned at the stake. She said goodbye and hung up.
Lily lay back against the pillow, her head pounding. Jezebel rubbed her face against Lilys, whiskers tickling her nose. Oh, Jezzy, today went so wrong. She closed her eyes against the light trickling in through the narrow gap between her bedroom curtains, trying to empty her mind. Sleep would be the best cure for her headache. But sleep meant dreams.
And after a vision, Lilys dreams were always nightmares.
BY FIVE OCLOCK, the sun sat low in the western sky, casting a rosy glow over the small gray-and-white house across the street from McBrides parked car. He peered through the car window, wishing he were anywhere but here.
When Lily Browning had hung up the phone, his first sensation had been relief. One more wacko off his back. Then hed remembered Andrew Walterss demand and his own grudging agreement. Call it following every lead, he thought with a grim smile. He exited the vehicle and headed across the street.
Lily Brownings house was graveyard quiet as he walked up the stone pathway. A cool October night was falling, sending a chill up his spine as he peered through the narrow gap in the curtains hanging in the front window.
No movement. No sounds.
He pressed the doorbell and heard a muted buzz from inside.
What are you going to say to herstay the hell away from Andrew Walters or Ill throw you in jail?
Wouldnt it be nice if he could?
He cocked his ear, listening for her approach. Nothing but silence. As he lifted his hand to the buzzer again, he heard the dead bolt turn. The door opened about six inches to reveal a shadowy interior and Lily Brownings tawny eyes.
Detective McBride. She slurred the words a bit.
May I come in? I have some questions.
Her face turned to stone. I have nothing to tell you.
McBride nudged his way forward. Humor me.
She moved aside to let him in, late afternoon sun pouring through the open doorway, painting her with soft light. Her eyes narrowed to slits, and she skittered back into the darkened living room, leaving him to close the door.
Inside, murky shadows draped the cozy living room with darkness. When McBrides eyes finally adjusted to the low light, he saw Lily standing a few feet in front of him, as if to block him from advancing any farther.
I told you everything I know on the phone, she said.
He shook his head. Not quite.
Her chest rose and fell in a deep sigh. Finally, she gestured toward the sofa against the wall. Have a seat.
McBride sat where she indicated. As his eyes adjusted further to the darkened interior, he saw that Lily Browning looked even paler than she had at school earlier that day. Shed scrubbed off what little makeup shed worn, and pulled her dark hair into a thick ponytail. Despite the cool October afternoon, she wore a sleeveless white T-shirt and soft cotton shorts. She took the chair across from him, knees tucked against her chest, her eyes wary.
Her bare skin shimmered in the fading light. He stifled the urge to see if she felt as soft as she looked.
What the hell was wrong with him? He was long past his twenties, when every nice pair of breasts and long legs had brought his hormones to attention. And Lily Browning, of all people, should be the last woman in the world to make his mouth go dry and his heart speed up.
He forced himself to speak. How long have you been a teacher at Westview Elementary?
She answered in a hushed voice. Six years.
He wondered why she was speaking so softly. The skin on the back of his neck tingled. Is someone else here?
Suspicion darkened her eyes. My accomplices, you mean?
He answered with one arched eyebrow.
Just Delilah and Jezebel, she said after a pause.
A quiver tickled the back of his neck again. What are they, ghosts? Spirits trapped between here and the afterlife?
A smile flirted with her pale lips. No, theyre my cats. Every witch needs a cat, right?
Youre Wiccan?
A frown swallowed her smile. It was a joke, Lieutenant. Im pretty ordinary, actually. No séances, no tea leaves, no dancing around the maypole. I dont even throw salt over my left shoulder when I spill it. She pressed her fingertips to her forehead. The lines in her face deepened, and he realized her expression wasnt a frown but a grimace of pain.
Do you get headaches often?
Her eyes swept down to her lap, then closed for a moment. Why are you here? Am I a suspect?
You called me, Ms. Browning. He relaxed on the couch, arms outstretched, and rested one ankle on his other knee. You said you saw Abby Waltershow did you put it? In your mind?
She clenched her hands, her knuckles turning white.
Why call me? he continued. Do I look like Id buy into the whole psychic thing?
No. Her tortured eyes met his. You dont. But I dont want to see her hurt anymore.
He didnt believe in visions. Not even a little. But Lilys words made his heart drop. Hurt?
Shes afraid. Crying. Lily slumped deeper into the chair. I dont know if theyre physically hurting her, but shes terrified. She wants her daddy.
McBride steeled himself against the sincerity in her voice. How do you know this?
Her voice thickened with unshed tears. I dont know how to explain it. Its like I have a door in my mind that wants to open. I try to keep it closed because the things behind it always frighten me, but sometimes theyre just too strong. Thats what happened today. The door opened and there she was.
Acid bubbled in McBrides stomach, a painful reminder of too much coffee and too little lunch. You actually saw her?
Lily nodded slowly. She was crying. Her face was dirty and she was afraid.
Can you see her now?
Her quick, deep breath sounded like a gasp. No.
Tension buzzed down every nerve. Why not?
It doesnt work like that. Please She lurched from the chair and stumbled against the coffee table. A pair of cut-glass candlesticks rattled together and toppled as she grabbed the table to steady herself. Out of nowhere, two cats scattered in opposite directions, pale streaks in the darkness.