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Authors: JANIE CROUGH

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BOOK: PRIMAL INSTINCT
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It was looking more and more as though maybe she could do some of the stuff they’d heard she could do.

“All right, I’ll take her to the hotel and let her change clothes, and then we’ll meet you at the office, Seth.” Conner looked at Adrienne’s burnt arm. “Are you sure you’re up for coming into the office today?”

Adrienne nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

“We’ll stop at the drugstore on the way and get some gauze to protect the worst part of your burns.”

Conner and Adrienne began walking toward the door. Seth told him that he would see them in a little while.

“Thank you,” she said intently, grabbing his hand with her uninjured one.

“For what?”

“Believing me. For not asking for details and explanations I couldn’t give at the time. For
acting
rather than allowing your natural doubts to cloud your instincts and demand more information.”

Conner was stunned. That statement exactly summarized what had happened. The
instinct
had been to get her the assistance she needed immediately. He had almost let his doubt overshadow that gut reaction but didn’t. And because of that, nobody had died today. Not the woman or her boyfriend or maybe even Adrienne.

Conner still wasn’t sure what he believed Adrienne could or could not do in terms of “seeing” evil. But he was at least now willing to give her a chance.

Conner squeezed her hand. There were many things that probably could be said right now, but he wasn’t sure which would be best or which might lead to an argument. So he said the only thing he could.

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

C
ONNER
WAITED
IN
the lobby for Adrienne as she went up to her room and changed out of her coffee-soaked clothing. They had stopped at a corner drugstore to get Adrienne some ointment and gauze for the worst of her injuries.

The red blisters on her arm bothered Conner but on some level reassured him. Adrienne had obviously been in the grips of something...strange to be burned like that and not notice. And it was too extreme a measure for someone to act out in order to prove they weren’t faking something. Adrienne had no reason to go that far, had nothing to gain by it.

Conner’s phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Seth.

“Hey. You back at the office?” Conner asked, sitting on the armrest of one of the couches in the lobby.

“Yeah. Where are you guys?”

“We’re at the hotel. Adrienne is up changing clothes. Finish everything okay on your end?”

“Yeah. Turned the ex over to the locals, and the lady is filing for a restraining order even as we speak.”

Conner nodded. “Well, that’s good.” He and Seth both knew that a restraining order would not stop an ex-husband intent on doing the woman harm, but it was a start and at least made everything official.

“Her new boyfriend looked pretty spooked by the whole thing. Not sure how long that’s going to last.”

“Don’t blame him.” Conner chuckled ruefully.

“So it ends up that the coffeehouse had some closed-circuit video.”

Conner stood up and walked outside, away from the few people in the lobby. “What did the CC feed show?”

“Mostly it was pointing at the counter and register, away from the action this morning. Didn’t get the ex at all. But it caught Adrienne a couple times.”

“And?”

Seth knew what Conner meant without explanation. “It was scary, man. Seriously. The people who described her as drunk? That’s pretty accurate. And the coffee spill on her hand? That was spooky.”

“I was just thinking about her burns, Seth. Burns like that? Nobody does that to themselves on purpose to continue some stupid facade.”

“You’ve got to see this footage. It was like something took over her body. She crushed that cup in her hand with a death grip. Didn’t drop the cup or anything when it spilled on her. It was like she
couldn’t
release it.”

Conner rubbed his forehead and began pacing up the sidewalk. “What do you think, Seth? Does this mean she’s legit? That she can really...whatever?”

“Con, all I know is that something happened to her in that restaurant this morning. You can literally see it overwhelm her. And it’s not pretty. Damn scary.”

Conner stopped his pacing. “But what does it mean?”

“I don’t know. But she had no reason to fake it and no reason to know we would be watching. It leads me to believe she may be telling the truth, man.”

Conner had never seen anything to make him think “gifts” like Adrienne’s were possible.

He turned back toward the hotel and saw Adrienne walking out the lobby door. “Okay, I’ve got to go. Did you bring a copy of the CC footage back with you?”

Seth snorted. “Do you really have to ask? Of course. See you in a bit.”

Conner hung up and walked toward Adrienne. She had changed into a khaki skirt and a white sleeveless blouse. Her short hair was a little damp from the shower she must have taken. Color had returned to her cheeks. She smiled, crossing to him.

She was breathtaking.

If only Conner knew that he could truly trust her.

Chapter Seven

Three hours later she was back in that same FBI interrogation room from yesterday. Adrienne sat, sure she was only minutes away from becoming a serial killer herself.

Nothing. She had absolutely nothing.

Staring at these pictures for the past hour and a half had brought not one single thought, feeling or insight. Just like yesterday. Like her gift had switched itself off. Again.

Although they didn’t say anything, Adrienne knew Seth and Conner had to be at their wits’ end with her. They had sat with her for the first hour as she went through the pictures. They had gotten her lunch but that didn’t help. Then they had left; she assumed to do something more productive—which, let’s face it, would be
anything
else.

She looked down at the crime scene pictures again. A dead woman, stabbed and left in a warehouse.

Nothing.

Adrienne stood from her chair in the interrogation room and leaned onto the table to stretch her back. The movement caused pain to shoot up her arm from the burns. It was a reminder that her gift had certainly worked well enough this morning. Why wasn’t it working now?

A brisk knock on the door had Adrienne looking up from the table.

“Yes?”

In strolled Division Chief Logan Kelly. Adrienne recognized him right away. He had not changed much in the eight years since she had seen him last.

“Ms. Jeffries. It’s good to see you again.”

“Chief Kelly.” Adrienne shook his outstretched hand but kept her greeting short.

That Adrienne didn’t return the sentiment wasn’t lost on the chief. He raised one eyebrow but said nothing.

“I understand you’re having some difficulty using your profiling gift for this case.”

“For some reason I can’t seem to get insights on anything that has been shown to me so far.”

The chief’s eyebrow raised again. “Perhaps you just aren’t trying hard enough.” He sat down in the chair across the table from her.

Adrienne barely refrained from rolling her eyes and sat down herself. “I assure you, it is not for lack of effort.”

“It seems like you never had this sort of problem when you worked for us before. It all came quite easily.”

“Easily?” Adrienne gave a quiet cough of joyless laughter. “Although I may not have had this much difficulty in the past, there was never anything easy about what I did for the FBI.”

Adrienne noticed rather smugly that her statement seemed to quiet Chief Kelly for the moment. She watched as he looked down at the pictures.

“Quite gruesome, aren’t they?” he asked after a moment.

There was nothing Adrienne could do but agree. “Yes. Horrible.”

“Don’t you want to help stop whoever is doing this from killing more women, or do you just not care at all?”

Adrienne knew better than to be taken aback by the chief’s abrupt tone but found herself feeling defensive anyway. “Chief Kelly, I’m not playing any games here. For whatever reason I’m just not able to get any insight into this case.”

“Perhaps I should remind you that it is not you who has much at stake here, but your ranch manager, Rick Vincent.”

Adrienne’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, Chief. I am well aware of why I am here and what’s at stake. And as much as I’d like to tell you to go to hell, I won’t.”

The chief sat back looking smug, but before he could respond, Adrienne continued in an angry tone. “And although you think you have some sort of hold over me now, Kelly, you don’t. I may have been here yesterday because of what you think you can do to Rick Vincent if I don’t cooperate. But I’m here right now because I want to help these women.”

Adrienne stood and began sorting the pictures back into the correct files. Chief Kelly stood also and walked over to the interrogation room door.

Adrienne stopped him before he could leave. “But I want to make sure you understand this—I am not back to work for you. This is a one-shot deal, and I’m done. I’m older now, and I won’t allow what happened to me before to happen again.”

Chief Kelly surprised her by looking apologetic. “Adrienne, we wouldn’t let anything like that happen again. We could put measures in place to prevent it, to look out for your well-being.”

“I thought that was true when I was eighteen years old—too young to know better. Now I know who I can trust. Myself,” Adrienne all but scoffed.

Chief Kelly seemed about to respond when the door to the interrogation room burst open. Conner gave a momentary look at Adrienne, then turned to Chief Kelly.

“Chief, we just got a call. There’s another victim.”

Whatever Chief Kelly had been about to say to Adrienne was completely forgotten. “Simon?” the chief asked quietly.

Conner glanced at Adrienne, then turned back to the chief, nodding curtly.

“Did we receive another package?”

Conner glimpsed at her again and then away. Adrienne couldn’t help but notice the way Conner posed himself with his back to her, which made it obvious that Adrienne was not a welcome part of this conversation.

“No, sir. Harrington and I are ready to proceed to the scene immediately.”

“Okay, keep me posted.” The chief excused himself quickly, and Conner turned to her.

“Seth and I have to leave for a little while.”

“I understand.”

“Do you want me to get someone to give you a ride back to the hotel?”

“No, I’ll just stay, if that’s okay.”

Conner shifted uncomfortably. “That’s fine. But I’ll need you to stay in this room. If you have to leave, use the phone on the table to call the offices and someone will escort you.”

“Don’t want me wandering around on my own, huh?”

“Adrienne...” Conner took a step toward her.

Adrienne held her arm out to stop him. “No, it’s fine. I’m not trustworthy. I get it. I haven’t been of any use to you yet, anyway.”

Conner sighed. “Adrienne, nobody’s mad at you. It’s okay if you can’t...”

Adrienne cut him off. “I know you have to go. That’s fine. I don’t need to be placated. I’m just going to look over the pictures some more.”

“Okay.” Conner looked relieved as he walked to the door. “If it looks like we’re going to be too long, I’ll call and let you know so you’re not just stuck here...”

Doing nothing.

Conner didn’t say the words out loud, but Adrienne could hear them as sure as if he had spoken them.

He gave an apologetic shrug and walked out the door.

“Doing nothing” aptly described what Adrienne had accomplished here over the past day and a half. She glanced down at the pictures again. She didn’t want to look at the brutal slayings anymore. Maybe she should just give it up, and head back to Vince and the horses.

Whatever Adrienne had been able to do for the FBI a decade ago, she was beginning to think she couldn’t do it anymore.

She should be glad. Seeing Chief Kelly had reminded her of the pain she had gone through working for the FBI before. Just thinking of it now made her head begin to throb a little. Not being able to use her gift meant Adrienne wouldn’t have to go through agony like the scene this morning at the coffee shop.

Adrienne sat and looked at the picture in her hands. It also meant she wouldn’t be able to help catch the psycho who had horrifically murdered this beautiful young woman. Or stop him from killing anyone else.

Was it worth the pain—although calling it
pain
was really like calling a sumo wrestler chubby—if she knew she could help? That’s what had kept her going for those two years, long past when any reasonable person could be expected to keep going. Knowing she could help.

Of course it looked like the decision was being made for her. She didn’t seem to be able to help whether she wanted to or not.

And great, now
not
being able to help was starting to give her a headache.

Adrienne reached into her purse to grab a bottle of aspirin and then picked up one of the crime scene photos that had fallen to the floor. She glanced at it as she set it down on the table.

And all the images came screaming into her head.

The killer, with his knife, taunting the victims. Cutting locks of their hair to mail. His absolute glee at their terror. Knowing he had the power.

Adrienne put her hands up to her head, trying to hold it together and keep it from splitting into thousands of jagged pieces. As she looked at more pictures, thoughts from the killer became clearer.

He didn’t kill them at the locations where they were found. He was much too smart for that. And the FBI agents were so stupid. It took them so long to catch on, he had to finally start sending them gifts. Bless their hearts.

Adrienne used all her concentration to block out the killer’s feelings, instead trying to concentrate on useful information: a location, a time, thoughts about his appearance.

She could see a building with beams in the ceiling. Maybe a warehouse? A large cellar? There were no windows. This is where he brought them and where he kept them for a few hours before he killed them.

It was so hard to wait.
He
was in charge.
He
had the power. He tried to wait so the good feeling would last longer. Simon says, wait. But it was so hard.

It was like listening to a child whine. Adrienne tried to hold on to that. His thoughts were very childlike.

But holding on to anything with all the noise in her head was nearly impossible. The killer’s malevolent thoughts were at the forefront, the loudest and most demanding. But pushing against her consciousness were other noises—other menacing forces, blurry ones with no distinct voices or sights—like someone was screaming at her in a different language. She knew she should be able to figure out what the noises meant, but it was too hard.

Adrienne persisted as long as she could, tried to gather as much information as possible in the screaming recesses of her mind. But eventually it overwhelmed her. She crawled over to the trash can—walking was impossible—and vomited the entire contents of the lunch she had eaten a little while before.

She dragged herself back to the table, pushing the pictures as far away from her as she could. She laid her head down on her arms on the table, closing her eyes. She just focused on breathing in and out, on trying to empty her mind of the noise and images.

This was what she remembered most about working with the FBI ten years before: the concentration it often took just to survive the next moment. Because trying to think about more than that was impossible.

Adrienne wasn’t sure how long she lay with her head on the table. She thought it was hours, but she had been wrong before about that. She gingerly opened her eyes, delighted when the light didn’t shoot agony into her head. She sat up slowly, expecting at any time for the images and sounds—and pain—to return, and was surprised when they didn’t. Previously the only way to escape had been to physically remove herself from the area and any people.

Adrienne glanced at her phone. Conner had been gone for just over three hours. She wasn’t sure when he was coming back, but she wanted to share what had happened as soon as she could. Some of it would help, surely.

She hoped so. She hated to think she had gone through that for nothing.

Although she had to admit she felt much better than she ever had before when she had worked for the FBI. Instead of the splitting headache and nausea she had expected, she just felt a little tired.

She wasn’t brave enough to pick up the pictures that lay scattered all over the table and chair in case it instigated another physical onslaught. But she knew she had to remove the trash can where she had lost the contents of her stomach earlier. It wouldn’t take much longer before the smell of that would overpower the tiny interrogation room.

Double-bagging and tying the small garbage sack, Adrienne headed out the door to look for a larger trash can. Despite the icky contents of the bag, the farther she got from the interrogation room, the better she felt. She saw a large trash can at the end of the hallway and headed to it.

She had just thrown away the bag when the elevator doors opened, and Conner and Seth exited, both looking annoyed and harried.

“What are you doing out here?” Conner snapped. “I thought I told you to stay in the interrogation room.”

Adrienne was taken aback by his abrupt tone. “I needed to throw something away, so I stepped out for a few seconds.”

Conner looked at her suspiciously. “Isn’t there a trash can in the room?”

All the eagerness Adrienne had felt at sharing what she had discovered about Simon now disappeared with Conner’s annoyance and disapproval. “Yes, there was, but the trash smelled bad so I took it out.”

Adrienne didn’t wait to hear Conner’s response, just turned and headed back down the hallway.

He called after her anyway. “You’re not supposed to leave the interrogation room without an escort!”

Adrienne ignored him. Jackass. After what she had been through this afternoon, she really didn’t feel like putting up with him.

She made it all the way back to the interrogation room door before he caught up with her, grabbing her arm, but she noticed he was careful not to touch her burns.

“Did you hear me? I said you’re not supposed to leave the interrogation room without somebody with you.”

He had her at a distinct disadvantage—he towered a good ten inches over her five-foot-four frame. Adrienne had no doubt Conner Perigo knew exactly how to use his size to his advantage in intimidating others. But Adrienne wasn’t going to let him bully her. She looked him dead in the eye.

“The. Trash. Smelled. Bad.” She stood on tiptoe and accentuated each word with a poke to his chest. “So I took it out. It’s the only time I’ve left the room for the entire time you’ve been gone.”

Conner glowered down at her. “When you’re in this building and I tell you to do something...”

“Ahem, excuse me, kids,” Seth interrupted, sticking his head around Conner’s shoulder. “Is everything okay here?”

Adrienne and Conner continued to scowl at each other.

“Any luck while we were gone, Adrienne?” Seth continued.

Adrienne smirked at Conner then turned to Seth. “Actually, Seth, yes. As soon as you guys left, my abilities started working. I think I may have a lot of information for you about Simon Says.”

BOOK: PRIMAL INSTINCT
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