Sixth Sense (A Psychic Crystal Mystery) by Marilyn Baron Page A

been through a lot.”
    Katherine sat mutely on the chair, pressing a hand against her forehead.
    Jack wondered how he had suddenly transformed into Kate’s knight in shining armor.
    “We’re wasting time,” the commander railed, pacing around the room, flexing his right hand like he was ready to punch someone. “I’m going to get my sketch artist in here while everything is still fresh in her mind.”
    Jack stood solidly between Katherine and the commander. “Now you listen to me. This woman is my responsibility. And we’re going to do this my way or not at all.”
    Shrugging his shoulders, Commander Jones picked up the phone and barked out some orders. After he hung up the receiver, he led Jack and Katherine into a dimly lit reception area with an overstuffed green leather couch.
    “She can rest here until the sketch artist comes. My secretary will bring up some food and something to drink.”
    “Okay,” Jack said, flexing his shoulders. “Okay. How are you feeling, Kate?”
    “It was horrible.” Katherine turned her pale face up to his. “Jack, we need to catch that man and lock him away before he can hurt anybody else. He’s sadistic.”
    Jack rested a hand firmly on her shoulder. “We will. We will, don’t worry. I promise.” He knew his promise to her hadn’t been worth much in the past. This time it would be different.
    “I’m afraid it might be too late for Kylee,” she stated.
    Jack looked up when a young officer with a sketch pad followed the commander into the room.
    “Kate cannot start until she’s had something to eat,” Jack insisted angrily.
    Katherine placed her hand over Jack’s. “That can wait. This is too important.”
    Jack frowned. He didn’t like it one bit. The woman had been through a lot. She had been on the verge of hysteria and now she was calm. Too calm. Highs and lows. Her mood swings had him worried. She needed to eat something. But he’d go along with her, for now.
    The commander approached Katherine. “Miss Crystal, this is our sketch artist. He’ll work with you to help you flesh out any details you can remember about the man you saw.”
    Katherine stood up and shook hands with the artist. Then Jack put his hands on her shoulders and guided her back into her seat.
    She covered her eyes with her hands and began talking. She described in detail the exact shade of blond and the texture of the man’s hair, his magnetic blue eyes, his deceptively sweet dimples, his broad build, and his hands. His large, strong, bone-crushing hands.
    “Was his nose about like this?” the artist queried.
    Katherine opened her eyes and nodded.
    “What about the room where he kept her?” the commander prompted. Can you describe it?”
    After about half an hour, the sketch artist held out his sketch pad.
    “That’s him,” Katherine said, pointing to the drawing, agitated.
    Commander Jones walked around the table, took one look and exclaimed, “Miss Crystal, you’ve made a terrible mistake.”
    “That’s the man in my vision,” Katherine insisted.
    “I know that’s the man you think you saw, Miss Crystal, but Lucas Taylor is not the strangler.”
    “Who’s Lucas Taylor?” Katherine asked.
    “He’s the son of the Lord Mayor of the City of Sydney,” said the commander.
    “Kate seems certain,” said Jack. “How do you know it’s not Taylor?”
    “Because I know the Lord Mayor personally, and I know Lucas, and he’s not—”
    “Not what?” Jack demanded.
    “Not smart enough for one thing, sad to say. Handsome bloke, for sure, has a way with the ladies, but he’s not quite right in the head. Ever since his motorcycle crash. He was driving without a helmet. Well, he couldn’t pull it off. Wouldn’t.”
    “Are you saying he’s not capable of doing something like this?” Jack nearly shouted, his irritation evident. He’d been around all types of killers and he knew with certainty that anyone was capable of murder. “Do you really think that all serial killers