Isaac sat at his desk in the detectives pit staring at his notes on the firefighter case while his mind wandered back to the conversation he’d had with Sidney on the way home from family game night the previous evening.
She’d promised that there wouldn’t be anymore illegal activity involved in her work at Hope House, and he believed her. But he worried that this setback might put a big crimp in her ability to successfully help other women get away from their abusers.
That aching, empty, sour feeling curdled his stomach again.
Isaac sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and fingers.
“You all right, partner? You’ve been kind of preoccupied all week it seems.”
He glanced up to see Pete staring at him.
“Yeah. Just got a lot of personal stuff going on that’s all.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly. But thanks for asking.”
Pete nodded, and Isaac narrowed his eyes, studying his partner’s demeanor.
“What’s going on with you this morning?”
“What do you mean?”
Isaac shrugged. “You just seem like you’re about to burst or something.”
Pete grinned, and Isaac could tell it was the kind that started on the inside. His partner was extremely happy and trying to keep his joy contained.
“Jada and I just informed the boys this morning that we want to adopt them.”
“Adopt them?”
“Yeah. Well, I mean… I’ll adopt Charlie, and we’ll both adopt Mateo. We’ve already spoken with the family law attorney and gotten the wheels moving. She says things should be finalized within a month after the wedding.”
“Wow. That is truly great, Pete. I’m sincerely happy for all of you.”
“Thanks, man. We’re all excited.”
“Look at you, growing up and becoming a family man.”
Pete laughed out loud. “Who would’ve thought, huh?”
“Certainly not me,” Isaac joked. “So, what’s your sister have to say about you adopting her son? She okay with that?”
Pete shook his head. “Lawyer says it doesn’t matter if she’s not. She was stripped of her parental rights to Mateo when she was sentenced to fifteen to twenty years. He’ll be an adult by the time she’s even up for parole, so it’s a non-issue. Ms. Peña says that as his legal guardian, I’m well within my rights to begin adoption proceedings at any time.”
“That’s great news, Pete. How’d he take it?”
“He was way more emotional about it than I expected him to be. He always tries to act so tough, you know? That too-cool-for-everything act teenagers always do.”
“Yeah?”
“But when we told him, he couldn’t do anything but burst into tears. He cried like a baby. I tell ya… it didn’t take long before we were all crying.”
Isaac chuckled, and he could see the emotion on his partner’s face even now. “You’re going to make a great dad, Pete. You already are. Those boys are both lucky to have you.”
Pete smiled and looked away, and Isaac could tell that his words had hit someplace inside. “Thanks, man.” Pete stood abruptly and walked off toward the break room without another word.
Isaac grinned and turned back to his notes.
“Taylor! My office.”
Gavin Hayes’ baritone carried throughout the pit, and Isaac glanced that way with a frown. His boss was hanging out the open door of his office, waving him over.
Isaac stood and headed that way.
“What’s up, Lieu?” He stepped into the office as Gavin took a seat at his desk.
“I just got a phone call from Special Agent Emmett Fox requesting your assistance on a case where the FBI needs your special abilities.” Gavin sounded slightly annoyed.
Isaac’s stomach dropped like he was on a roller coaster.
“Those were his words. He wants to know if you have some time today to go to the FBI field office and meet with him.”
Isaac took a seat in front of Gavin’s desk. “And do I have time, sir?”
Gavin shrugged a shoulder. “You tell me. Where are we on the firefighter case?”
“Same place we were before. Nowhere.”
“We’ve still got nothing?”
Isaac shook his head.
“And the fiancée had nothing useful to say?”
“Oh no, she had some interesting things to say that went toward motive. Motive for Jim Lawson to try and kill Andrew Cooper. Not the other way around.”
“So now you don’t think Andrew Cooper is our guy?”
“The jury is still out on that, Lieu. The problem with this case is that the murder occurred in the middle of a five-alarm fire. Because of that, there simply isn’t an actual crime scene for us to examine. Not in the traditional sense. We can’t send CSU into what’s left of that canning plant to search for evidence. And I’m afraid that any tangible evidence that might’ve existed went up in flames along with the building.”
“And what about your special abilities? Any chance of using those here to get a lead we can use?”
The question took Isaac by surprise. It wasn’t even often that Gavin specifically requested that he use his psychic skills to get them ahead on a case.
“Well, there are a couple of things I could try. And I was actually planning on doing it today because we keep hitting a wall in our traditional methods. But now with this FBI thing…” He let that sentence dangle as he thought about it.
“Yes, the FBI.” Gavin steepled his fingers and Isaac could see his boss’ mind working. “Agent Fox sounded like this was important. Like the case was a big deal. Do you know anything about it?”
“I do not, sir. Only that it’s something Fox has been working on for several months and that they keep hitting a wall too. Just like us and this firefighter case.”
Gavin sighed and rocked back in his desk chair. “Okay. Go see what they need. If it sounds like it’s going to be more involved or that it may take valuable time, inform them that you have a full case load of your own, one that needs to take priority before it rips the city apart.”
They both knew he was referring to the growing unrest between the first responders in the city and the unfair media coverage of it.
“I’ll head over there now. And I’ll inform Pete so that he can be working on the firefighter case in my absence.”
“Good. Keep me informed.”
Isaac stood and left the office. At his desk, he informed Pete of the plan.
“I wonder what the FBI’s working on that they need a psychic for?”
“Only one way to find out.”
“And I’m kinda low key shocked that you’re so willing to go. I mean, knowing how you feel about being called the P word.”
“Yeah, well… Let’s just say I can hear my grandad’s voice in my head telling me that I come from a long line of proud and powerful freaks. I’m just trying to live up to his faith in me I suppose.”
Pete chuckled at that response, but Isaac knew it was true.
“If anything pops on the firefighter case, take it straight to Lt. Hayes and keep me in the loop.”
“Will do, partner. See you later. And good luck over there.”
“Thanks.”
Isaac left the pit and ventured down through the station and out to the back parking lot, where he got into his personal vehicle and headed to the FBI’s Cleveland Field Office.
He’d only been to this building once before, back when they were working on the Lullaby Case and he’d needed to recruit the FBI’s help in finding that serial killing son of a bitch. Emmett Fox had agreed to help, and that led — in a round about way — to him dating Isaac’s little sister, Emily, and practically becoming a part of the Taylor family.
Sort of.
Isaac pushed all of those thoughts away and entered the building. The sleek, white, marble floor and the long front desk were exactly what he would expect an FBI Field Office to look like, and Isaac was struck again by how impressive and intimidating it all seemed.
He stepped up to that front desk and presented the woman behind it with his badge and ID.
“Detective Sgt. Isaac Taylor to see Special Agent Emmett Fox.”
“Yes, Detective Sergeant.” The woman consulted a list in front of her. “I see that Agent Fox is expecting you. Do you know where you’re going, sir?”
“No. I’m afraid I’ve never been past the front desk.”
“All right.” The woman smiled at him and handed him a badge marked VISITOR. “You’ll have to surrender your sidearm at the metal detector. You will get it back once you pass through since the color of your visitor badge tells everyone you’re law enforcement.”
Isaac nodded and pinned the badge to his lapel, trying desperately to ignore the feeling of dread creeping in.
“Take the elevators up to the fifth floor. I’ll ring Agent Fox that you’re on your way up. He’ll meet you when you arrive.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome, Detective.”
Isaac stepped away from the desk and over toward the metal detectors to the left. He took in a deep breath and unclipped his holstered Sig Sauer and placed it in the bin along with his badge, his car keys, his wallet and his cellphone.
It wasn’t the metal detector itself that made him edgy. It was the thought of having to be patted down if the detector went off and the attendant decided not to use the wand instead.
He pushed that irrational thought from his mind and stepped through.
No sound.
The metal detector didn’t go off.
Isaac let out a silent sigh of relief and the armed attendant motioned for him to gather his things.
Once he’d returned his gun to his hip and clipped on his detective shield, he headed for the elevators. Three other people got on with him, and Isaac was careful to keep his arms locked to his sides so that he wouldn’t accidentally touch anyone.
When the doors opened on the fifth floor, Emmett grinned at him.
“Thanks for coming, Ike.”
“No problem. I feel I should warn you though. Lt. Hayes has only authorized me to come hear you out. If this is something that’s going to take time away from my already overloaded case load—”
“And it shouldn’t. We simply need verification of who we’re looking for.”
Isaac frowned. “That was a strange choice of words, Emmett.”
Emmett glanced down at the floor for a brief second, and Isaac suddenly wondered what his friend was getting him into. The trepidation crawled along his skin like a trail of ants.
Emmett motioned for him to follow and led him down the hall to the left.
“Well, as I mentioned the other night, the Special Agent in Charge is reluctant to bring in a psychic he’s not familiar with, so our first step is a meeting with him. He’ll ask you a few questions; he might ask for a demonstration of your skills. You okay with that?”
They stopped walking outside a closed door, and anxiety lit up Isaac’s insides like a flare gun. But he knew it was too late to turn back now.
“Does it matter if I’m not?”
“Look, Ike… I would never want to put you in a position where you’re not comfortable. We’re colleagues, but first and foremost you’re my girlfriend’s brother. I’d like to think we’ve become good friends after all this time.”
“We have, Emmett. I’m just not used to being asked to trot the monsters out for a private showing, like a circus act.”
“That’s not what’s happening here. You’re being asked to use your valuable skills to help a stalled investigation into the murder of five pre-teen boys. Boys that were preyed on and exploited for the sick pleasure of others.”
Isaac drew in a deep breath and nodded. “All right. I’ll do the audition meet-and-greet with your boss. But what happens if he’s not as impressed with me as you are?”
“Then I guess I’m just shit out of luck.”
Emmett’s tone was tired and Isaac felt for him. He’d been there on a tough case before. Every law enforcement officer had at one time or another. He nodded, and Emmett raised a fist and knocked on the closed door.
“Come in.”
They entered the office and Isaac noted that the decor up on the third floor was nothing like the cold white marble of the lobby. Up here, the carpet was dark navy blue, the walls were pale gray, with white and chrome accents everywhere.
“Special Agent in Charge Richard Forrester, this is Detective Sgt. Isaac Taylor of the Cleveland Police Department.”
A small frown marred the man’s face as he stood and came around his desk with the dreaded outstretched hand. Isaac clasped his own hands together in front of his torso. It was the first time he’d ever wished he had thought ahead and brought a cotton glove with him.
“It’s good to meet you, sir, but I prefer not to shake hands.”
Those words never seemed to get any easier to say. He swallowed down the hint of embarrassment and held eye contact.
“Isaac’s abilities are triggered through touch, sir,” Emmett pointed out.
“His abilities?” Forrester looked momentarily confused before understanding creeped in. “Oh, I see.”
He looked Isaac over from head to toe, and Isaac got the feeling the man was trying to sort something out in his mind.
“But you are a police detective?”
It was a strange question to start with.
“That’s right.” Isaac nodded and studied the man.
Richard Forrester was average height with blond hair that was graying at the temples. His eyes were curious and eager, studying Isaac just as hard.
“What division if I may ask?”
“Homicide.” Isaac responded wondering why it mattered.
“Isaac is being modest, Agent Forrester,” Emmett interjected. “He happens to hold the highest closed case record of any homicide detective in the entire city. Quiet as it’s kept, he’s becoming quite the legend. Not only at his own precinct, but throughout the whole Cleveland Police Department.”
Isaac shot Emmett a look.
Was that true?
If it was, Isaac hadn’t heard the hype himself. That was probably a good thing. One less thing for him to stress over.
“That’s very impressive, Detective.”
“Emmett exaggerates.”
Polite laughter came from both men and Isaac only grinned. But his joke had gone a long way toward easing the tension in the room.
“Please, let’s sit.” Forrester gestured to the navy blue leather couch and chairs on the other side of his office. Isaac and Emmett each took a chair. Forrester sat on the couch across from them, elbows on his knees as he leaned in.
“Tell me, Detective, is that high closed case record due to your abilities?”
Hands still clasped together in his lap, Isaac nodded. “Well, I’d like to think I’m just good at my job, but the correct answer is probably yes. At least in part.”
Forrester continued to watch Isaac like he was a medical oddity or something. A mythical creature that shouldn’t exist, but did.
Isaac refused to squirm in his seat though. He maintained eye contact with him.
“Isn’t it unusual for a psychic to go into police work?” Forrester asked.
Isaac shrugged a shoulder. “Well, I don’t know. I don’t believe any statistics have ever been run on the subject.”
Emmett chuckled and Forrester smiled at him.
“No, I don’t suppose they have. Fox here tells me that your abilities are both unique and powerful. We’ve worked with a few psychics in the past, but Fox says that he’s never seen anything like your abilities before.”
Something about those words made Isaac’s stomach churn. Like there was a pile of worms wriggling around in there. He always enjoyed hearing what a freak of nature he was.
“Well, I believe I did mention that Emmett exaggerates.” He felt the smile slip over his lips, but inside he was raw. Was he really about to put his monsters on display for a demonstration? The thought made his face hot.
Was he red? Shit.
“You realize, of course, that for me to authorize any work you may do for this office in a psychic capacity, I will need to see a convincing demonstration of your talents?” Forrester’s voice held a hint of apology. Like he understood that what he was asking was a sensitive, personal thing.
Isaac appreciated that.
“I do.”
They stared at one another for a long moment. Then Forrester cleared his throat. “Well. How does this work for you? Fox mentioned touch?”
Isaac stared at him a beat longer, wondering what he was about to open himself up to. Then without another word of explanation, he reached out and offered the man his hand, drawing on the advice his grandad had shared with him a few months ago about opening up his psychic eye.
Forrester glanced at Emmett, who nodded. Then he reached for Isaac’s hand.
The instant contact was made, Isaac’s free hand gripped the arm of his chair, bracing himself against the sledgehammer of pain assaulting his torso.
Shadows and light flickered behind his eyes.
Animal heads.
A father and young boy.
A rifle.
A fallen deer.
Tears.
Quantico.
Isaac jerked his hand away and sucked in big gulps of air as he tried to compose himself.
“Ar-are you all right?” Forrester sounded slightly panicked.
“He’s fine, sir. Just give him a minute.” Emmett held out a protective arm to keep Forrester from touching Isaac again.
Finally able to draw in a deep, restorative breath, Isaac composed himself and glanced around at them.
“Detective—” Forrester began, but Isaac interrupted him.
“Your father’s an avid hunter. Even big game, like bears and lions. When you were about twelve, he tried to turn you into his hunting buddy, but you cried for two days when you shot your first deer. You hate the idea of hunting down defenseless animals, especially when it’s done solely for sport. So you decided to hunt a different kind of prey. The much more dangerous kind. It’s why you joined the FBI.”
The room fell completely silent, and Isaac looked Forrester in the eyes.
“I’ve… I’ve never told anyone that story.” Forrester sounded astonished.
“I know. You’re embarrassed about it. About crying over the deer.” Isaac took another deep breath to center himself. “But you shouldn’t be. Compassion is a wonderful quality to have.”
Forrester looked at Emmett, clearly shook.
Emmett smiled. “I told you he was impressive, sir.”
“Yes, you did.” Forrester glanced back at Isaac for a second before dragging his gaze back to Emmett. “Permission to solicit Detective Taylor’s assistance as a psychic is granted. Make sure you have him sign all the pertinent forms so that he can be paid for his time.”
He turned back to Isaac. “You will be contracted as a consultant to the FBI, Detective Taylor. That comes with an hourly wage, so be sure to keep track of your time.”
“Well, that’s nice, but I just hope I’ll be able to help. I’m not exactly sure what you all need from me.”
“Special Agent Fox will give you all the details.” Forrester stood and smiled at him. “Welcome aboard.”
“Thank you, sir.” Isaac and Emmett answered in unison and got to their feet. Then Emmett motioned for Isaac to follow him.
They exited Forrester’s office and Emmett looked at him with a smile.
“That went well.”
“Did it?” Isaac couldn’t help the slight sarcasm.
“Well you heard the man. He said welcome aboard. Come on.” Emmett motioned with a jerk of his head and started down the hall. “I’ve got the HR and tax forms waiting in my office. And we can finally talk about the Landry case.”
Emmett’s office was at the end of the hall, and it was decorated much like Forrester's, only smaller. Once there, Emmett motioned him to take a seat.
Isaac did so, and watched Emmett gather a clipboard from his desk.
“These are the papers you need to sign. Let’s get this out of the way first.”
Isaac spent the next ten minutes filling out the requisite paperwork. When it was done, Emmett took the forms and handed him a case file in return.
“This is the Landry file.” Emmett’s tone was suddenly all business, and he took a seat in the chair next to Isaac.
Isaac opened it up, and glanced at the disturbing images. “These boys can’t be much older than what? Thirteen?”
“Between twelve and fourteen. Five boys in all so far.” Emmett’s tone seemed to grow more grave with each word.
Isaac closed the file to get away from the images and looked at Emmett. “Give me the cliff notes version.”
“It began about five months ago. A young boy went missing on his walk home from a friend’s house.”
Missing persons didn’t typically come across Isaac’s desk, but the news usually made him aware of them. This one didn’t sound familiar for the timeframe though.
“Here in Cleveland?”
Emmett shook his head. “Painesville.”
It was a city in neighboring Lake County. Part of the Greater Cleveland metropolitan area, but not part of the CPD’s policing territory.
“Local authorities kicked it over to us after the boy had been missing over twenty-four hours. It wasn’t long before video of the same boy sprung up on the Internet on a site called Young Love.”
“Let me guess. A porn site.” Isaac set the file on the edge of Emmett’s desk.
“Yes. Catering to all proclivities that involve sex with minors.”
“How did this video come to the FBI’s attention?”
“It’s standard for us to monitor the web whenever we get a missing minor. Unfortunately there’s a lot of trafficking of children going on out there. No clue if that’s what we’re dealing with here. But as if that wasn’t sick enough, the body of the same boy was found on the edge of Silver Falls Campground exactly one week after he went missing.”
Just the words alone made Isaac want to hurl.
“And on this video that surfaced, the kid is doing what? Being raped? Tortured?”
“The footage is as disgusting as it is disturbing,” Emmett confirmed. “Suffice it to say, we’ve been trying to get the site shut down. Each time we do, they spring back up with a slightly different name and URL. But the site really is the least of our worries right now. Because the bodies keep coming. There’s been one each month since the first boy was found. Always the same pattern. They go missing, the video appears, one week later the body is found.”
“Found in the same location?”
“No. A different spot each time. One was on the side of the road. Another on a hiking trail.”
“Are they all taken from Lake county?”
“Different spots around the Greater Cleveland area. The last was the first from Cuyahoga county.”
“And who is Landry?”
“During the course of our investigation into the website, the name Landry keeps popping up. It’s all we have. Can’t say if it’s a first name or a last. But we believe Landry is the person behind the site.”
“And therefore, ultimately the person behind the murders.”
“Exactly. This website is essentially posting videos of child molestation and rape, so whoever the sick son of a bitch is that’s running it needs to be caught. Now whether or not he’s also the person kidnapping and killing these boys remains to be determined. But either way, he has to be caught. Our cyber team is working on bringing down the website permanently, but like I said… that’s proven tricky so far.”
“And what is it, exactly, that you believe I can do to help?”
Emmett drew in a deep breath, and Isaac could tell by the look in his eyes that he was gathering up the courage to make his request. The fact that Emmett needed to muster up bravery made Isaac’s gut boil with slow-simmering trepidation.
He suddenly had a feeling he wasn’t going to like this.
“Something your sister told me a while back stuck with me. Something about your abilities that I didn’t know you could do.”
“And what exactly did Emily say?”
“She said she’d heard from Adam once that you had been touching the dead victims back during the Lullaby case. Touching them and seeing the moment of their deaths.”
Isaac turned away and shifted positions on the chair. That slow-simmering trepidation boiled over into full-blown dread.
“Emmett—”
“I know, Ike. Believe me, I know it’s a huge ask. But I honestly believe you could give us the lead we’ve been lacking in this case. Whatever you might see of the last few moments of this kid’s life could help us finally nail this fucker!”
Isaac sighed and looked down at the floor. He brought a hand up and rubbed the lower half of his face, feeling the stubble at his chin and thinking about all the implications of what Emmett was asking.
Touch a dead victim.
See their last moments before death.
And add to his growing catalogue of nightmares.
It wasn’t simply that he hated doing it, although he did. But this case involved children. Sick people committing unspeakable crimes against kids. And those were the ones that had a way of haunting him. Of visiting his nightmares like demons, leaving him to bolt awake in terrifying cold sweats.
“Ike, I have no idea what you go through when you do this. The things you must see. I’m sure it’s probably extremely traumatizing, and you…” Emmett hesitated for a beat before he met his gaze again. “You should probably develop a relationship with a good therapist. Just to protect your sanity.”
His voice was smaller at the end of that sentence, as though he’d lost steam and couldn’t muster any more. But it was sincere. Then he let out a heavy sigh and held out a hand to Ike in supplication.
“Ike, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t believe you could help.”
Isaac looked him in the eyes. “Stop begging, man. I’ll do it.”
“You will?”
Emmett sounded shocked. Pleasantly surprised, and Isaac nodded.
“I owe you.”
“Owe me? For what? The assist on the Lullaby case?” Emmett shook his head. “No… I was doing my job. You don’t owe me for that.”
“That’s not what I was referring to. If it hadn’t been for you taking me seriously when we first met, I never would’ve gotten to Sidney in time when she’d been kidnapped. I’ll always owe you for that.”
Emmett grinned at him. “As far as I’m concerned you owe me nothing.”
Isaac took a deep breath and resigned himself to his fate. “You said you want me to touch one kid. I assume the others have all been buried by now.”
“Yes. And we have articles of clothing from the other four. I don’t know if you’re able to glean information from clothing or not, but—”
“Sometimes, yes. I’m willing to try.”
Isaac remembered giving his grandad a hard time about letting Geneviève tutor him on using his natural psychometry with objects instead of people. Sterling had insisted that it was a skill Isaac needed to perfect because it might come in handy someday. Seemed Sterling was right about that, as usual.
“That’s great. Do you have time? Would you like to get started now?”
“Just let me check in with my lieutenant and see if he can spare me for a few more hours.”
He made a phone call to Lt. Hayes, who cleared him for the rest of the afternoon. Then Isaac placed himself at the FBI’s disposal.
“Since we’re here we should begin with the clothing from the previous four victims.”
Isaac followed Emmett through the corridors of the field office while boulders of imposter’s syndrome rumbled through his system like an avalanche. He bet his grandad and Geneviève would both get a hearty laugh out of his current predicament.
He’d always believed that it would be an honor to be asked to assist the FBI on a case. He simply never thought he’d be asked to do that in a psychic capacity. He knew it was foolish, but his detective skills were feeling slighted.
Emmett took him to a large locked evidence room in the bowels of the building. Once inside he led him over to a smaller room at the back where a few items in plastic evidence bags were already laid out on a metal table.
The bags were each labeled with the victim’s name, the date the item was procured, and the case number, just like evidence they collected at the PD. Isaac stared at them and took a few deep breaths.
“Do you need anything special for this process?” Emmett sounded weirdly more nervous than Isaac felt. “I’ve been authorized to unseal the evidence bags if you need direct contact with the item.”
“That shouldn’t be necessary.” Isaac’s memories flashed back to the Lullaby Case when he’d been granted access to the evidence found at the crime scenes. He’d been able to glean information from various items even though they were sealed in evidence bags. “I just need a little space and quiet to concentrate.”
“Right. Shutting up now. I’ll be over there by the door.” Emmett chucked a thumb over his shoulder and then followed his own direction.
Isaac waited several seconds until the room settled, giving himself some time to inhale inner peace and exhale calm.
They were Geneviève’s dopey instructions and he heard her voice in his head as he practiced the exercise. Then he consciously opened his psychic eye, like he and his grandad had talked about.
He reached for the first bag.
The item was folded. Red. The bulk of it suggested it was a sweatshirt or something similar, but he couldn’t be certain of that. He held his left hand palm up, flat, and centered the bag on top of it.
Then he closed his eyes.
Light and shadow played behind his eyelids.
When it cleared he saw a young boy wearing the red hoodie. Laughing, joking with his friend, practicing soccer moves.
That same boy walking alone, carrying a soccer ball.
White rusted van.
Soccer ball in the street.
GCF3621
Blackness.
Isaac dropped the evidence bag and gasped, sucking in big gulps of air. Confusion set in almost immediately.
“Ike? Are you all right? Can I do anything?”
Isaac shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“Did you get anything?” Emmett’s tone was cautious.
“I…” His voice trailed off and he turned to look at Emmett. “I’m actually not sure.”
Emmett stepped closer to the table. “What does that mean?”
Isaac had no clue how to respond to that. “I wish I knew.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not understanding here.”
“Neither am I, Emmett, and I’m the one who’s supposed to.”
“Well, what did you see? Did you see anything?”
“I did. But it wasn’t what I was expecting to see.”
“What were you expecting to see?”
Isaac took a moment to think about things before he answered. “Of course.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and nodded. “Of course. That makes sense.”
“You gotta let me in on what we’re talking about here, Ike. What makes sense?”
Emmett sounded frustrated and Isaac met his curious gaze.
“Sorry. I was expecting to see the last few moments of this kid’s life. Like I do when I touch a dead body.”
“Right?”
“Well, this isn’t a dead body. It’s an article of clothing.”
“And that makes a difference?”
“Of course, it does. A dead body still has residual psychic energy that not only shows me those precious last moments, it also gives me impressions of that person’s last thoughts and feelings. It’s extremely personal. Almost intimate in a way.” His voice was halting, explaining it more to himself than to Emmett.
“Okay.” Emmett sounded like he was trying hard to understand.
“Well the psychic energy left on an article of clothing shows me a vastly different set of images. Something significant that happened when that piece of clothing was being worn.”
“So, less intimate.”
“Much less intimate,” Isaac agreed. “But no less important.”
“So what did you see?”
“I saw your victim wearing this hoodie. He was at a friend’s house. They were practicing their soccer moves.”
“That’s right. The victim loved soccer. According to his parents, he and his friend were planning to try out for the middle school team in a few weeks.”
“I saw that same boy walking home with his soccer ball. And then I saw a white van.”
“A white van?”
“I saw it very clearly. Older model. It had patches of rust in places.”
“Like a white minivan?”
“No. More like an industrial van. Like something a business might use.”
“Okay. Anything else?”
“Yes. The soccer ball rolled into the street. And then I saw the letters GCF, and the numbers 3621. And then blackness.”
Emmett frowned at him. “GCF and 3621?”
Isaac nodded, but didn’t verbally respond.
“What do you think that means, Ike?”
Isaac only hesitated for a split second. “My first thought was a license plate. That, or maybe the letters GCF stand for something else. The name of a building? Or a street maybe, and 3621 is an address?”
“Maybe GCF stands for other numbers. Like on a cellphone keypad.” Emmett pulled his cellphone from his pocket. “Those letters correspond to the numbers 423. Maybe it’s a phone number?”
Isaac shrugged a shoulder. “I would suggest you jot down what I see so that you can compare my reactions to each of the items later. That way we might see a pattern emerge.”
“Good idea.”
Emmett scribbled down some notes and Isaac readied himself to touch item number two — a blue t-shirt.
He positioned the bag on his palm and closed his eyes. When the shadows cleared, he saw a young boy petting a dog on a leash.
The dog walked away with its owner.
A white rusty van.
A handstand. A tree. A skinned knee.
GCF3621
Blackness.
Isaac gasped for air and glanced around for Emmett.
“What’d you see?”
“A jumble of images just like the first time. But the same white rusty van. The same letters and numbers.”
“So the white rusty van is obviously important.”
“My money’s on GCF3621 being a license plate number for the van. Find it, and you’ll find the foothold you’ve been needing in this case.”
One hour and four articles of clothing later, Isaac followed Emmett to the morgue where Hiroshi had the body of the latest victim laid out waiting for them.
After the success with the clothing, Isaac had sort of been hoping touching this kid wouldn’t be necessary. But here they were.
“He was found—”
“Don’t give me any information please.” Isaac cut Emmett’s commentary off, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. He just wanted to glean whatever information he could on his own, without any preconceived ideas or opinions.
He glanced around and got a brief ripple of nerves in his belly. He was used to doing this in front of Hiroshi. But now the morgue had a few others bustling around another body on the other side of the room.
“Hey, can you guys give us the room for a few moments please.” Hiroshi motioned for his staff to step outside, and Isaac appreciated it.
“Thanks, man.”
“No problem. Take your time.”
Isaac took a deep breath and then placed two fingers on the kid’s cold, naked shoulder.
Ice picks stabbed at his insides.
Shadows and light.
A scary dark room.
Cold. Bugs.
A door is opened. Light streams in.
“No!”
A sinister face.
The boy struggles, fighting a foe much larger than he is.
A cord around his neck.
Blackness.
Isaac gasped and stumbled backward.
Emmett reached out a steadying hand.
Isaac jerked away.
“It’s all right! Not touching.” Emmett lifted both hands in the air.
“You okay, Ike?” Hiroshi sounded worried.
“I’m fine.” Isaac struggled to take a normal breath. “I’m good.”
“You sure about that?” Emmett asked, his gaze as concerned as his voice.
Isaac nodded and then turned to the ME. “Thanks, Hiroshi.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“What did you see, Ike?” Emmett asked.
“Not here. Let’s go so these guys can get back in.” Isaac motioned to Hiroshi’s staff that were still waiting in the other room.
Once they were out in the hallway Isaac turned to look at him.
“So, I know this isn’t going to make much sense to you, but… just uh… try to bear with me okay?”
Confusion settled into Emmett’s brow. “Okay, what are we talking about, Ike?”
“Usually when I do this,” Isaac gestured to the morgue, “there’s a second step involved.”
“A second step?”
“Yes.” Isaac shifted from one foot to the other and rubbed his clasped hands together. Embarrassment simmered in his gut, but he refused to give in to it. This is who he was, plain and simple.
This was his life.
These were his abilities.
This is how he used them to do good.
“There is a second step where I go someplace quiet and secluded and I… sort of… replay what I’ve just seen. It allows me to go deeper into the vision, so to speak. It usually brings me more information.”
“Okay.” Emmett nodded and stared at him. “You do whatever you normally do, Ike.”
To Emmett’s credit, he tried to act like all of this was perfectly normal. Isaac appreciated his effort.
“Well, I usually duck into a bathroom stall because there are no prying eyes there. It’s as good a place as any.”
Emmett grinned at him. “I’ll wait here. I don’t need to know how the magic happens.”
Isaac tried not to laugh and headed for the men’s room.
Inside his usual stall, Isaac sat down and took some deep breaths. He didn’t know how this would work on a case that he had no emotional investment in, but he was about to find out. He closed his eyes and brought the vision up in his mind.
He saw the cold dark room where bugs crawled along the floor and the walls.
The door opened and light streamed in behind an imposing figure standing in the doorway.
The figure moved fast.
The man grabbed the boy up from the floor, causing pain to shoot from his shoulder down his arm.
“No!”
The boy screamed.
He beat his fists against the man’s chest, but it was no use.
The man wrapped a cord around the boy’s neck.
Isaac yanked himself out of the violent vision, gasping. His hand flew to his neck and he sucked in deep gulps of air.
“Isaac? You all right?”
It was Emmett.
Isaac collected himself and exited the stall. Emmett was standing against the bathroom wall.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve stayed in the hall.”
“It’s fine.”
Isaac stepped over to the sink and washed his hands. Then he splashed a handful of cool water on his face. He grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and patted it against his face before he looked Emmett in the eyes.
“These kids are being kept in some cold, dark, scary, room with bugs crawling around.”
“Lovely.”
“Your victim was strangled from behind.”
“Yes.” Emmett nodded. “With a cord. That was Hiroshi’s findings.”
“His arm was pulled out of socket too.”
“How—” Emmett stopped short and changed directions. “Yes. He had a dislocated shoulder.”
A tired sigh escaped Isaac’s lungs. He was suddenly exhausted. “I’ve got no kind of ID to give you, but I did get a pretty good look at the killer’s face.”
“That could be huge. Can you describe him to a forensic artist?”
Isaac nodded. “I’ll give it my best shot.”