WHISPERS TO THE HEART Read online

  WHISPERS TO THE HEART

  By

  Kimberley Reeves

  Cover Art by EJ Kellan

  The right of Kimberley Reeves to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs, and Patents Act, 1998.

  This book is a work of fiction; the names, dates, characters, events, places, and incidents described within are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual events, actual persons, living or dead, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Neither this book, nor parts thereof, may be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author, assigns, or authorized representative.

  This novel is dedicated to the following people:

  To my Dad and Mom, Gene and Linda Rucker. All my love always.

  To Ryan, for your unconditional love, patience, and support.

  To my favorite fan, Rose; a beautiful young woman who never fails to brighten my day.

  To Bobby the bass player ~ My love and gratitude for being a constant inspiration.

  Chapter 1

  Rennie drummed her fingers on the desk, considering her options. There were none. She picked up the phone and held it in her hand for a few seconds before dropping it back on the cradle.

  “Coward.” She berated herself.

  Her reluctance was justified, Rennie reasoned; making the call would subject her to the usual ridicule, which inevitably led to the open hostility she had often experienced in the past. But that wasn’t the worst part. It was what happened afterwards when she met with the detective face to face that curdled her stomach. The indulgent smile came first, followed by a guarded look; the one that said they thought she was either a freak or mad as a hatter. Sometimes, she wondered if they were right.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she expelled it slowly, mentally preparing herself for the battle to come. It didn’t matter what they thought, because not making the call meant a young girl would die. Rennie didn’t know exactly when it would happen, but an overwhelming sense of urgency told her it would be soon, possibly even tonight. Normally, the impressions were too vague, too out of focus to even consider calling the police, but this one was different. This one shook her to the core.

  She’d started picking up on the girl’s fear early this morning and it had escalated throughout the day until it was impossible to ignore any longer. She had to do something. Even if they didn’t listen to her, at least she would know she tried. With a determined lift of her chin, she picked up the phone and dialed the police department.

  “I need to speak to someone in Homicide.”

  “Is this an emergency?”

  “Yes…no, I mean, it could be.”

  “Ma’am, are you reporting a homicide?”

  Rennie’s shoulders slumped. Here we go. “No, it hasn’t happened yet.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, did you say it hasn’t happened yet?”

  She wanted to scream at the woman and demand that she put a detective on the line, but past experience had taught Rennie she would get nowhere by losing her temper.

  “I have information on a murder that I believe is about to take place,” she said, careful to keep her voice even. “Please, I just need to speak to someone in Homicide.”

  An impatient sigh. “Is this an ongoing investigation?”

  Rennie’s jaws clenched. Of course not, you stupid woman. I just said it hadn’t happened yet! Out loud she said, “Yes, it is.”

  “I see. Which detective do you need to speak to?”

  “I…I don’t remember his name. Perhaps it will ring a bell if you tell me who is on duty right now.”

  Another impatient sigh. “Michael Arnold, Ryan Stone, Vince Tyler, Mac Logan. Shall I go on, ma’am?”

  “No, it’s…the last one.”

  “Mac Logan?”

  “Yes, that’s him.”

  “One minute, please, and I’ll connect you.”

  Rennie clutched the phone to her ear, praying Detective Logan had an open mind. The muscles in her stomach knotted and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead. She was glad she hadn’t gone to the police station in person. They probably would have carted her off and tested for drug use. As it was, she would be lucky if this detective Logan didn’t send some nice men in white coats to her house to escort her to the nearest mental institution.

  Her worrisome thoughts were interrupted by a man’s deep voice. “Mac Logan.”

  “Detective Logan, my name is…well, that’s not important. I’m calling because I want to report a homicide that is going to take place.”

  “Going to take place?”

  “Yes. A young girl has been kidnapped and…”

  “Has a ransom been demanded?”

  “No, I mean…I don't think so. Listen,” she said, attempting to steady her voice, “the man who took her is going to kill her and I think it’s going to happen tonight.”

  There was a short pause before he replied. “Maybe we should start at the beginning. Did you witness the kidnapping?”

  “No, but I know it happened and that he’s going to kill her. He’s just waiting for night to fall and…”

  Fear. My God, the gut wrenching fear that girl was going through.

  “Miss, are you still there?”

  “She’s scared,” Rennie said in a hoarse whisper. “You have to help her.”

  “Do you know where she’s being held?”

  “No, but I might be able to find her if…if I concentrate hard enough or have something that belongs to her.” She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the awkward conversation she knew was coming.

  “Let me get this straight. You didn’t see the kidnapping, but you know it took place, and you think you can locate her if you touch something of hers.”

  “Yes,” she replied feebly, “that about sums it up.”

  “I don’t suppose you know the girl’s name?”

  She could hear the doubt in his voice, but at least he was still listening. “Give me a minute.” Rennie opened her mind to allow the girl’s emotions in.

  Mac Logan sat at his desk wondering what the hell he’d done to deserve getting this nut case today. He was tired and hungry and mere minutes away from leaving for the day when he’d taken the call. Still, there was something in her voice that made him believe the woman was genuinely spooked, whether it was real or imaginary, and he felt compelled to listen to what she had to say. He waited for several minutes, his impatience with the woman mounting the longer she remained silent. Finally, she came back on the line.

  “I’m not sure…” Rennie started. “It doesn’t make sense. I keep seeing an angel and a star.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Mac’s reply was caustic. “Listen, miss, I’d love to sit here while you figure out what your visions mean, but I’ve had a very long day and would like to get home. Not to mention, if the murder hasn’t even taken place, it’s not my department.”

  Rennie’s chest tightened. She couldn’t understand why it wasn’t coming to her when she felt so connected to the girl emotionally. “I know you think I’m crazy, but I’m telling you a murder is going to take place and soon. Maybe it’s Angela. Sometimes I can only get the sound of it.”

  Angel. Angel. Angel.

  She tried to clear her mind, to siphon out the horrific sensation of impending death and grab onto the girl’s name but it remained elusive. She could see a star, as bright and shiny as if she was looking up at the night sky, while the word angel repeated itself over and over like a mantra. Then the detective spoke again, breaking her tenuous hold on the girl.
r />   “Why don’t you think on it for a while? If you come up with something, you can call back and talk to one of the other detectives on duty.”

  Frustrated and drained from the effort of trying to fix on the girl’s name, Rennie snapped. “Listen, detective, I don’t give a rat’s ass if you think I’m crazy or not! I’m telling you this girl has been kidnapped and she is not going to live through the night unless you do something about it. Just check on it. Take five minutes and see if anyone with a name similar to Angela has been reported missing, that’s all I’m asking.”

  “Fine,” Mac replied with a sigh. “I’ll check it out. Give me your name and number and I’ll call you back.”

  “I’d rather just hold.”

  “Suit yourself, lady.”

  Mac put the crazy woman on hold while he walked down the hall to Missing Persons.

  “Hey, Janice, have you received a missing persons report on a young woman named Angela within the past week or so?”

  “Angela? You have a last name?”

  “Sorry, that’s all I got.”

  Janice Yates, one of their best Missing Persons investigators, turned to her computer and scrolled through the list of names. “No Angela.”

  “Any names that sound like Angela?”

  She shook her head. “Alaina is the closest, but she’s sixty-two.”

  “Thanks,” Mac said, thoroughly irritated now that he knew there was nothing to the woman’s claim. He strode back to his office and snatched up the phone. “No one named Angela or anything sounding remotely like it. Are you satisfied now?”

  Tears welled up in Rennie’s eyes. She’d been so sure he would come back and confirm the girl had been reported missing. “Maybe no one knows she’s missing yet,” she suggested without much hope.

  Mac tried not to sound too brusque but his patience was wearing very thin at the moment. “If no one knows she’s missing then there’s not much I can do to find her, is there?”

  “No, I suppose not,” she said, unable to disguise the deep disappointment. “I’ll call back tomorrow. Maybe by then you’ll have heard something.”

  “You do that,” Mac told her, then promptly hung up.

  His irritation diminished minutely as he finished stuffing the active files in his briefcase and locked up his office. On his way out, Mac stopped by his partner’s office to let him know he was leaving and got caught up discussing a new case for another twenty minutes before telling Ryan about the woman who had called. Instead of laughing as Mac expected him to do, Ryan asked why he didn’t believe it was possible for a person to possess psychic abilities.

  “I think it’s more probable that some people have an aptitude for reading emotions and use that talent for their own gain by claiming to be psychic, but I don’t believe anyone can predict the future or see things that have happened in the past.”

  Ryan disagreed. “What do you call it when you have a hunch about something, a gut feeling that you can’t explain? Don’t you think that is psychic ability on some level?”

  “Hell, no,” Mac snorted, “it’s just plain intuition and years of experience on the job. Don’t tell me you believe this nut case might actually know something about a real abduction?”

  Ryan shrugged. “Let’s just say I wouldn’t rule it out.”

  “Well, I’m ruling it out and going home. See you tomorrow.”

  Leaving Ryan’s office, Mac quickly dismissed the idea there was anything to what the woman had told him. He was a realist and dealt with life that way, refusing to place faith in anything that couldn’t be proved. He was sure the woman believed in what she was telling him, it was evident by the passion with which she’d spoken, but that still didn’t make it a fact. Mac dismissed it from his mind and was just getting into the elevator when Janice called out for him to hold up.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” she said, handing him a piece of paper. “It came across the wire a few minutes ago.”

  Mac’s brows furrowed as he scanned the bulletin. A young college student had just been reported missing. According to her parents, she was last seen leaving the campus library around ten o’clock the previous evening.

  Her name was Angel Starr.

  ***

  Rennie wandered into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Not that she needed anything that would fuel a case of jittery nerves, but she was running on empty and didn’t want to fall asleep. Sleeping meant dreaming, and she had no intention of putting herself in a position where she couldn’t shut it off.

  As it was, she had already done her level best to remain detached from this girl and felt guilty for doing so. To atone for behaving so selfishly, Rennie firmly resolved to pull herself together and focus on the girl so she could provide something tangible the police could use to find her.

  Six o’clock, Rennie noted. There were still three hours until sunset. She carried her cup of coffee to the living room and settled comfortably on the sofa. Her thoughts strayed briefly to Detective Logan. Considering the bumbling way she’d presented what meager information she had, Rennie couldn’t blame him for thinking she was off her rocker.

  It was foolish to have called without trying to hone in on the girl’s location first, or at least come up with a name. What did a star and an angel have to do with it anyway? Heavenly bodies maybe? Was it possible she was wrong and what she’d seen was some kind of symbolism that the girl was already dead?

  Rennie shook her head. She couldn’t believe that, not when she was still sensing this overwhelming fear and despair. If the girl was dead, there would be nothing except the sad emptiness that always gripped her when she knew it was too late. Draining the last of her coffee, she set the cup on the table then leaned back and closed her eyes. Considering how persistent the images had been, it wasn’t surprising when she linked with the young woman immediately, but it did come as a shock that the connection was so powerful.

  Angel.

  It was dark and cold, enveloping Rennie in a shroud of despair. The rope binding her wrists was so tight it had rubbed her skin raw, bringing pain with every movement. It didn’t matter. He was coming back soon and this time he would do much worse than defile her body. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest; a frightened rabbit waiting for the big bad wolf to return and devour her.

  The anguish in her voice as the girl cried out for her daddy to find her sent a sliver of ice coursing through Rennie’s veins. She also sensed the self-condemnation for having ignored her father’s warning about walking on campus alone at night. But she’d trusted the man who now held her captive and never would have believed he could hurt her this way.

  “Talk to me,” Rennie whispered. “Tell me where you are, who you are. Give me something.”

  There was a sudden shift in emotions; fear that he had returned, followed by the certainty that it was a female voice she’d just heart. Had someone found her? Rennie prayed that it was so, but when the woman seemed to be responding to the questions Rennie had posed, it became evident that somehow the woman had actually heard her. Confusion and disappointment seeped into Rennie’s consciousness; the young woman didn’t know where he had taken her, although she had the impression that it wasn’t far from where they had first encountered one another.

  She was drowning in a fathomless sea of hopelessness; alone and helpless, desperate to escape, but she was too tired and weak to struggle any longer. Whatever fight still remained in the woman was slowly being crushed by the knowledge that one bad decision would ultimately cost her the life she’d only just begun to live. How many others had there been? Rennie’s thoughts echoed those of the woman. Had they gone with him willingly as she had done, only to find themselves bound and gagged in some cold, dark place, scared out of their minds?

  Rennie’s head snapped up at the loud, incessant rapping on her door. Linking with a victim always drained her both mentally and physically, so it came as no surprise that her movements were sluggish as she rose and made her way to the foyer to see who was k
nocking so impatiently. Leaning into the door, she peered through the peek hole for several seconds before fully comprehending just what it was that she was staring at. The broad chest of a man; a very tall man. Good Lord, he had to be at least six foot four if she couldn’t even see his face!

  This was a man who was used to being in charge and having his commands obeyed. It was why he didn’t bother using the doorbell; it didn’t demand entrance like pounding on the door did. It had the sound of authority, and as Rennie drew back the deadbolt and opened the door to greet her visitor, there was no doubt in her mind it was the detective she’d spoken to earlier.

  “Someone finally reported her missing?”

  Mac's eyes raked over her, pleasantly surprised by Rennie O'Neal's appearance. She was tall and slender with blue eyes and hair the color of corn silk. It was such a contrast to the gypsy-like image he'd conjured up, it took a moment to gather his thoughts and stop staring at her.

  "I think we need to talk," he finally said when she looked up at him expectantly.

  Rennie stepped back to let Detective Logan in. His voice matched his looks, she thought, because both were wholly male. He was a big man, as she’d known before she had opened the door, and he would have been quite an imposing figure if she hadn’t sensed the kindness that lay beneath the tough exterior.

  He had jet black hair and sea green eyes that reminded her of the jade statue on her bookshelf, and despite the austere expression he wore, Rennie thought he was the most devastatingly handsome man she had ever seen. Giving herself a mental shake for allowing him to effect her so strongly, she focused on his reason for being here and had to wonder why he’d come to question her about the girl when it was obvious he had serious misgivings about her. She closed the door and led him to the living room, waiting until they were seated on the sofa before speaking.

  “How can I help you, Detective?”

  “I believe you know something about the woman’s abduction and I understand why you’re scared, but if you saw who did this, Miss O'Neal, I need to have a name so I can find her before it’s too late.”