neither of them challenged Dani’s statement. Instead, the federal agent got them back on topic.
“Between the SCU, others in law enforcement, and Haven, our network of available psychics has grown even more quickly than we anticipated. Recently, we’ve been…experimenting somewhat.”
“By tracking killers?” Marc asked.
“More or less.”
“Successfully?”
“Results have been spotty,” she admitted readily. “Probably not surprising, given the varying strengths and abilities of our people.”
“But you feel confident that you know who butchered at least one young woman here in Venture sometime in the last twenty-four hours?”
“Who—yes. But not in the helpful sense of knowing his name or even what he looks like.”
“So what you
know
is that he’s a serial you’ve tracked from a prior hunting ground.” He didn’t make it a question, because he had no doubt that was the answer.
Miranda nodded. “Afraid so.”
“And you’re absolutely sure?”
“Marc, I’m not
absolutely
sure the sun will rise tomorrow. Pretty sure, mind you, but not absolutely sure.” She shrugged. “Could I testify under oath in a courtroom? Not with facts. But feelings? Psychic certainty? Am I sure in my own mind who this bastard is? Yes.”
“Because you had a vision?”
“No. Because another of our psychics got a hit. And she’s very accurate. It’s the same killer.”
“You haven’t even studied the scene,” Marc said, knowing the objection was purely a matter of form.
“Yes,” Miranda said. “I have. I just wasn’t there at the time.”
6
T HE FACT THAT JORDAN chose, in the end, to accompany Teresa and her team out to the Norvell home had less to do with any urge to learn how to collect forensic evidence and more to do with his feeling that while he might not be strong in science, he understood people. And he had learned early as a cop that there were few things more helpful in any investigation than gathering information from people rather than from paperwork.
But this was his first experience with a missing and probably dead victim—and a distraught husband.
A distraught husband he’d gone to school with.
“You’re
sure
there’s no word about Karen?” Bob Norvell waved the forensics team toward the bedrooms at the rear of the small, well-kept house but kept his gaze fixed on Jordan.
“We’re doing everything we can to find her, Bob, you know that.” Jordan was a lot more uncomfortable than he’d expected and had to concentrate to keep his expression professional—and impassive.
“She wouldn’t have left me, Jordan. You know that, right? That she wouldn’t have left me?”
“Yeah, Bob, I know that. Everybody says you guys were—are—happy together.”
If Norvell noticed the slip, he ignored it. “She wouldn’t have left me, and there was no reason anybody would want to hurt her. Not Karen. Karen’s a sweetheart, she really is. Everybody likes her.”
“Bob, why don’t we sit down? It may take a few minutes for the team to do its work, so…”
“Yeah, sure, I’m sorry.” Norvell led the way into the living room, adding, “Can I get you anything? Coffee or something?”
“No, thanks.” Jordan regretted that almost immediately, realizing that giving Norvell something to do probably would have been a good idea, at least to the extent of giving the deputy a break from that anxious gaze.
Coward! Do your job, for Christ’s sake!
As they sat down, Jordan made a determined effort to be professional. “I’ve read the report, of course, Bob, but I wanted to ask if there was anything else you could tell me, anything you might have thought of in the last few days.”
“Like what?”
“Before she disappeared, was Karen different in any way? Did she seem nervous or worried?”
Norvell shook his head. “No, she was just the same as always. I kissed her good-bye and went to work—she had a day off from the bank, but I didn’t—and when I got home she wasn’t
“Between the SCU, others in law enforcement, and Haven, our network of available psychics has grown even more quickly than we anticipated. Recently, we’ve been…experimenting somewhat.”
“By tracking killers?” Marc asked.
“More or less.”
“Successfully?”
“Results have been spotty,” she admitted readily. “Probably not surprising, given the varying strengths and abilities of our people.”
“But you feel confident that you know who butchered at least one young woman here in Venture sometime in the last twenty-four hours?”
“Who—yes. But not in the helpful sense of knowing his name or even what he looks like.”
“So what you
know
is that he’s a serial you’ve tracked from a prior hunting ground.” He didn’t make it a question, because he had no doubt that was the answer.
Miranda nodded. “Afraid so.”
“And you’re absolutely sure?”
“Marc, I’m not
absolutely
sure the sun will rise tomorrow. Pretty sure, mind you, but not absolutely sure.” She shrugged. “Could I testify under oath in a courtroom? Not with facts. But feelings? Psychic certainty? Am I sure in my own mind who this bastard is? Yes.”
“Because you had a vision?”
“No. Because another of our psychics got a hit. And she’s very accurate. It’s the same killer.”
“You haven’t even studied the scene,” Marc said, knowing the objection was purely a matter of form.
“Yes,” Miranda said. “I have. I just wasn’t there at the time.”
6
T HE FACT THAT JORDAN chose, in the end, to accompany Teresa and her team out to the Norvell home had less to do with any urge to learn how to collect forensic evidence and more to do with his feeling that while he might not be strong in science, he understood people. And he had learned early as a cop that there were few things more helpful in any investigation than gathering information from people rather than from paperwork.
But this was his first experience with a missing and probably dead victim—and a distraught husband.
A distraught husband he’d gone to school with.
“You’re
sure
there’s no word about Karen?” Bob Norvell waved the forensics team toward the bedrooms at the rear of the small, well-kept house but kept his gaze fixed on Jordan.
“We’re doing everything we can to find her, Bob, you know that.” Jordan was a lot more uncomfortable than he’d expected and had to concentrate to keep his expression professional—and impassive.
“She wouldn’t have left me, Jordan. You know that, right? That she wouldn’t have left me?”
“Yeah, Bob, I know that. Everybody says you guys were—are—happy together.”
If Norvell noticed the slip, he ignored it. “She wouldn’t have left me, and there was no reason anybody would want to hurt her. Not Karen. Karen’s a sweetheart, she really is. Everybody likes her.”
“Bob, why don’t we sit down? It may take a few minutes for the team to do its work, so…”
“Yeah, sure, I’m sorry.” Norvell led the way into the living room, adding, “Can I get you anything? Coffee or something?”
“No, thanks.” Jordan regretted that almost immediately, realizing that giving Norvell something to do probably would have been a good idea, at least to the extent of giving the deputy a break from that anxious gaze.
Coward! Do your job, for Christ’s sake!
As they sat down, Jordan made a determined effort to be professional. “I’ve read the report, of course, Bob, but I wanted to ask if there was anything else you could tell me, anything you might have thought of in the last few days.”
“Like what?”
“Before she disappeared, was Karen different in any way? Did she seem nervous or worried?”
Norvell shook his head. “No, she was just the same as always. I kissed her good-bye and went to work—she had a day off from the bank, but I didn’t—and when I got home she wasn’t
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