Chasing Morgan Page 11

  “Tell me how the press conference fits into this. You were upset about it,” Sam said.

  “There are several events tied together. If the press conference happened, then I know something else is going to happen. I’m brought to San Francisco for another event and that will lead to yet another event. Change one, and change them all. I can’t risk one of the events, so I have to go along with the others.”

  “You can’t risk the person who’s set to be hurt,” Jack said.

  “No. I can’t risk that.” She smiled at him softly to reassure him. “There are several ways things could have gone. All I can tell you is that if my name hadn’t been mentioned in the press conference, you wouldn’t have the murders you do now. Also, the events that happen because of the murders wouldn’t happen. I’d still be coming to San Francisco for a couple of reasons, but now those reasons are tied to the murders, too.”

  Confused, Sam’s mind couldn’t keep track of this event, that event, or the fact that they could happen or not. “You’re talking in circles. So, if your name hadn’t gone out to the press, the murders wouldn’t have happened. Tyler won’t like hearing that.”

  “So, don’t tell him. He doesn’t need to know in order to do his job. Besides, he didn’t put my name out there. He did what he had to do to stop the men kidnapping women and using them as prostitutes.”

  “He already has an idea that it’s because of him. The killer left Tyler a message. He’s after you, Morgan.”

  “I know. I’ll be his last victim.”

  The silence in the room was deafening. She didn’t often get a glimpse of her own life. She could see other people’s lives like movies in her mind, but not her own. Some kind of a cosmic safeguard. If she knew too much about her own future, then she’d spend too much time worrying about it rather than living her life for today. She’d had to learn that the hard way, through time and experience. She hadn’t seen her mother’s death coming until it was too late. If she had, she might have been able to stop it.

  “I wanted to see you today to get you to stop focusing on finding me and get back to the case. I’ll be there soon enough.”

  “When?”

  “When the time is right.”

  Jack felt for Sam. “Don’t even try to get her to tell you more. She’s stubborn.”

  “I’m not stubborn. I can’t jeopardize the vision I had. If we change the future, and I don’t have another vision to tell me where to go, then I might not stop what happens to your family member. No one wants that.”

  “Help me with the case. Give me something to work with, because right now we don’t have anything.”

  “You’re looking for a man with thinning light brown hair. He’s about five-foot-five, very thin, and deceptively strong. He works with his hands fixing some kind of machines. I think they’re copy and fax machines. That won’t help you though. He’s good with computers and uses them to connect with people because he’s not very good at talking to people one-on-one. He’s a loner. He lives in an apartment that’s cheap and shabby. The furnishings are old, but he likes them because they’re his. There’s something about that I’m missing. It’s like I should know something connected to his sense of being on his own and having his own things. He has a sense of being independent and not answering to anyone. He’s thirty-seven, so that doesn’t make a lot of sense at this time in his life.” She shrugged her shoulders. She could only explain what she knew.

  “He uses a double-edged butterfly knife. You know the kind that people in movies flip around with their wrist and the blade is revealed. He likes it because it makes him feel like he’s stronger and meaner looking than he is.”

  “Is there anything else, physically about him?”

  “He wears glasses with dark rims. Brown eyes, pale skin, like he spends his time indoors a lot. His face is ordinary. His appearance is ordinary. He’s the guy next door, who never got the girl, or played sports. He’s coasted through life under the radar because he doesn’t let anyone close, and he doesn’t put himself out there. He thinks others don’t understand him. Everyone else has what he wants. He feels like he’s been held back. I don’t know what it means, but when I see him, there’s a great weight on him. Something is over him and holding him down. I think the weight is his conscience. He either feels guilty for the murders, or something from his past.”

  “Anything else.”

  For the first time, she noticed he’d taken out a small notebook and scribbled notes of everything she said. She’d never talked to him about the other cases. She’d kept her distance from him and Tyler on purpose. She found it comforting to see Sam taking his notes, completely focused on her. He believed everything she said. He had no doubts, reassuring her he’d do his best to put her information to good use.

  “After he’s killed each of his victims, I see a phonebook open on a scarred and stained coffee table. He lines out the name or ad for the person he’s killed.”

  “You can see the name of the person he’s going to kill?”

  “No. I haven’t actually seen any of the murders. I’ve only seen the phonebook. I think he commits the crime and goes home and lines out the name.”

  “He’s not going in order. The victims aren’t in alphabetical order.” Sam took a moment to think about the store names. They weren’t in order either. “Do you know what makes him choose his victim? Is there a reason for the order?”

  She sat for a moment and settled her mind and opened herself to the question. Nothing came. This case had been the most difficult for her to get anything on because it was too close to her.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Anything else you can tell me?”

  “He won’t stop until all the names are marked off, or I get in his way.”

  “Will you get in his way?” Sam didn’t know if he wanted her to say yes or no. He didn’t want to risk her.

  “It’s inevitable.”

  He hated hearing that ominous prediction.

  “I’ll help you along the way. In the meantime, you have to do something. I don’t think he’ll stop, but it will make him pause and reassess what he’s doing. Then, he’ll make a choice.”

  “What choice?”

  “To keep killing or stop.”

  “You don’t think he’ll stop though?” Sam said, doubtful.

  “No, but it’ll make him stop for a little while and that will allow time for other things to happen.”

  Sam looked at Jack for support. Jack shrugged and swallowed another bite of his brownie.

  “She’s only going to tell you what you need to know, and not enough for you to change anything. Get used to it.”

  “It’s nice that you understand me, Jack,” Morgan said, grinning.

  “I’m trying.”

  “I’m trying, too. You aren’t what I expected,” Sam said with a sigh.

  “No? What did you expect?”

  “Someone weird. I’ve spent the last several weeks talking to a lot of psychics in San Francisco. They’re weird. They talk about what they do in all kinds of mystical and metaphysical terms. Energy, vibrations, chakras, and whatever else they come up with. It all sounded so excessive. Not a single one of them sounded credible. Between their bizarre outfits and their dramatics, I had a hard time taking any of them seriously.

  “You don’t need any of that,” Sam continued. “Either I believe you, or I don’t. What you see and know is what you see and know. I met a couple people who I think had some psychic ability. Nothing like you, though.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad I’m not weird and you like my clothes.”

  He laughed. “Come to San Francisco with me. Help me with this case.”

  “Not yet. First, you need to have a story printed in the paper stating the FBI has contacted me and I don’t know anything about the murders. I haven’t seen anything. And specifically, I can’t give you any information about the man. That part has to be stated as clearly as possible. This started with the press conference and the guy thinking I ca
n ID him. Let’s tell him I can’t.”

  “Do you have a story ready?”

  “No. I figured you’d take care of it.”

  “You could use the paper Jenna owns,” Jack said. “The one we had make up the fake newspaper about her ex-husband. I think she still owns it. That way you can control what gets printed. It’ll give the paper an exclusive, which will boost sales, and Jenna will love that.”

  “Good thinking. There’s no telling what another paper will print, even if I write the article. This way we can be sure.”

  “Is there anything else?” Sam asked Morgan.

  “No. That should do it for now. I’ll contact you if I have more.”

  “Please tell me you’re going to do something about Tyler and the woman he’s seeing. He shouldn’t be with her. You said it yourself.

  “He’s in love with you, you know. Hell, you probably don’t. He doesn’t even know it.”

  “Tyler’s going to do what Tyler’s going to do. He’s got his mind set. I don’t know if anything will change it.”

  He’d resisted his connection with her for so long, she had to accept that maybe he didn’t want anything do with her ever again.

  “Come to San Francisco. One look at you, and he’ll change his mind.”

  True or not, she appreciated the kind compliment. She’d had too many people ridicule her.

  “I’ll be in San Francisco soon. Not to stop Tyler from seeing the woman, but for something else. That’s all I can tell you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  * * *

  TYLER SAT AT his desk doing one of the things he hated most—never-ending paperwork. He’d gone to the autopsy yesterday and hated to admit Sam was right. He couldn’t look at the deceased and not think of Morgan. It could have been her. The killer had left him a message making it clear she was his ultimate target. It put a lead bowling ball in his gut that wouldn’t go away. The urgency to find her and make sure she was safe intensified.

  He’d spent hours going over the reports Sam had compiled on the case. Each murder another gruesome scene.

  Four murders. Four psychics. Four women. Any one of them could have been Morgan.

  It all started with the press conference. Before, actually. He’d set the ball in motion when he’d opened his mouth to Detective Stewart. It all started with him.

  The only consolation, every psychic in the city bombarded Detective Stewart with a description and a vision they needed to share with him. Not a single one of them gave a similar description or shared the same information twice. Ninety percent of them were way out there. The other ten percent were scared to death they’d be next. Most of them said they saw a vision of the man coming for them and they wanted police protection. The police had stepped up patrols in the areas where psychic shops were located and in the neighborhoods where known psychics lived.

  They were protecting people from a man they couldn’t identify and had absolutely no leads. They couldn’t even determine if they had his fingerprints. Every scene had multiple prints to sort and run through the system, hoping this guy was a repeat offender. He hadn’t left any DNA. No hair, or blood, except for the victim’s.

  The press was going nuts over the case. The Psychic Slayer, Tyler thought, disgusted. Every newspaper in the city carried a story about the murders and made assumptions that in some way they were tied to Morgan, the FBI’s secret weapon against criminals. Like she was some kind of superhero. She was just a woman. Okay, she was a special woman.

  Sam came by and dropped a newspaper on his desk. The headline threw him for a loop.

  FBI PSYCHIC BLIND TO PSYCHIC SLAYER

  “What’s this?”

  “A little something I had printed last night and put out to the public this morning.”

  “I thought you were in Colorado last night.”

  “I was. How’d the autopsy go? Any new information?”

  “Nothing. The coroner determined cause of death as strangulation, said the killer cut out her tongue postmortem and the glue used on her eyes was consistent with the other murder victims.”

  Tyler scanned the article. “Um, why did you have this story printed? It says Morgan has been in constant contact with the FBI, and she can’t give us any information about this case. It says she hasn’t had any visions about the murders, and she can’t use her abilities at will. ‘Inside sources at the FBI discredit her ability to provide accurate information on the cases that she contacts us about, despite claims by the San Francisco Police Department.’” He continued reading the article and the more he read the angrier he got. “This thing makes her sound like a complete joke, like we don’t take what she says seriously. It makes it sound like she sometimes gets lucky based on public information. They made her look like a hoax.”

  “You think so?”

  “Haven’t you read this?”

  “I wrote it,” Sam said, sorting through the messages on his desk.

  “Excuse me?” Tyler stood and faced Sam, angry Sam would do anything to hurt Morgan.

  “It’s exactly what she wanted it to say. It helped that Jenna owns the paper. A simple phone call, and I’m page one. Not bad, if I do say so myself.”

  “What exactly do you mean, it’s what she wanted it to say? Have you spoken to Morgan?”

  Sam wasn’t ready to spill the beans completely. Morgan hadn’t said anything about him keeping their meeting a secret. In fact, she knew Tyler would find out because of the article. Inevitable, some things couldn’t be avoided.

  “What’d you do last night?”

  With a heavy sigh, Tyler answered, “Maria came over. We had a late dinner and caught a movie on TV. Why?”

  “Did you tell her about your day yesterday? I imagine you were pretty upset after the autopsy and hearing those messages about Morgan. You must have liked going home to someone you could unload on. I know I took off on you yesterday, but you pissed me off, avoiding me for the better part of two weeks.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I just needed to step away for a while. Had I known this involved Morgan, I’d have called you back immediately.”

  “What does Maria think of all this mess?”

  “We didn’t talk about it. She prefers I leave my work at work.”

  He thought about that and last night. It was nice to have someone to share a meal with instead of eating alone. He couldn’t remember half of the movie they watched. His mind had been on work and Morgan. He kept going over all the information and each time Maria laughed at something in the movie, he’d had to pull himself back, so she wouldn’t catch him not paying attention.

  He took her to bed, hoping for sex and a nice distraction from the case, but Maria fell asleep on her side of the bed. Truth be told, he let her because what he’d really wanted was not to be alone. He’d spent most of the night staring at the ceiling frustrated about the case, his relationships with women, everything in his life, and Morgan’s continued absence.

  “It makes me feel better talking to Elizabeth after a bad day.”

  Tyler didn’t want to hear about Sam and Elizabeth and their great marriage. He and Maria had a good night together. He was satisfied with that. He’d only been up thinking about Morgan part of the time. His mind was on the case and she was part of it. Only natural he’d think about her.

  He’d known her for more than five years. Missing her was natural, too.

  “Tell me about the article. Why did you write and publish that Morgan can’t help us with the case?”

  “Because she asked me to.”

  “You talked to her. She called you.”

  “Yes. No.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, I talked to her, and no, she didn’t call me.”

  “Then, how did you talk to her?”

  “I went to see her. Let me tell you, man. If I weren’t married, I’d still be at her place right now begging her to keep me as her slave. That woman is gorgeous.”

  “You saw her. You spoke to her in person. Where? When?” Tyler
fell into his chair, reeling.

  “You’re stuttering, man. I saw her yesterday. It’s why I left. She wanted to see me in person. She had some things to tell me, and she wanted to do it face-to-face.”

  She didn’t call him. After five years, he’d let her down so badly she didn’t even want to see him. She’d rather see Sam.

  “I thought you were going to see Jack.”

  “I did. She contacted him and he called me and told me to come.”

  “So you met her at the ranch. She went there to find Jack?”

  “No. Jack and I are the only people who know where she lives. Actually, Jack’s known for quite some time.”

  “Why didn’t he tell us where she is?” The knot in his stomach drew tight. He fisted his hands, furious Jack would keep this from him.

  “Because she asked him not to. She lives alone. She has since she was about thirteen. She’s lived on the streets, in shelters, taken refuge in churches, libraries, anywhere she could find a safe place. She has a house now. She’s worked really hard to make a place for herself away from everyone. She’s alone, Tyler. Completely, one hundred percent alone. Jack is the only person she’s seen in years. I gave her a hug and she held on to me like I was the only person who was ever nice to her in her whole life.”

  Sam waited a beat and let that sink in with Tyler.

  “She has a sister, you know. She won’t even see Morgan, or speak to her. She thinks she has the family curse. She thinks Morgan’s insane—cuckoo,” Sam said, and circled his finger in the air by his temple. “She thinks Morgan hears voices, and they tell her what to do. Can you believe that?

  “She ran away after the trial. Her father wanted to have her committed, so he’d know where to find her when he got out, so he can kill her.”

  “Why are you telling me all of this?” Tyler asked, annoyed.

  “Why? Because that woman has only had you in her life for the last five years. You have been her sole connection to the world. Without you, no one would even know she exists. Well, no one who actually cared she existed. Her father wants her dead, her sister doesn’t want anything to do with her, and you used her. She’s reached out to you the only way she knew how after spending the majority of her life alone, and you turned your back on her.”