not work for you?”
“They did in the past. The glimpses I would get from crime scene photos weren’t as clear as actually being at the crime scene or touching something the perpetrator touched, but there was always something.”
“I see.” Perigo’s smug tone grated on Adrienne’s nerves. Obviously her lack of ability to perform here was just confirming what he had suspected all along—she was a fake.
Adrienne sat back in her chair and rubbed her eyes with both hands. On one hand she was happy her gifts weren’t working—it definitely saved her a literal headache—but on the other hand she desperately wanted to show Conner Perigo he was wrong.
Adrienne crossed her arms on the table and laid her forehead on her arms, taking a few deep breaths. She needed to center herself. She needed to block out all the buzzing around her and focus.
That’s when Adrienne realized there was no buzzing going on inside her head at all. It was completely silent.
Even if she wasn’t getting any reading from the pictures, she should still be hearing some sort of low murmur just by the very nature of being in a large building filled with people. Everyone gave off static. The more people around, the louder it was to her. That was why she chose to live in a relatively isolated area—so she wouldn’t have to put up with the white noise all the time.
As long as there was no one with malice in their thoughts, then everything stayed at a low static—annoying, but bearable. But sinister intent would instantly throw pictures into Adrienne’s mind. Along with searing pain. When she touched something that had been handled by someone malicious, she also could usually get some sort of picture of what had been going through the mind of that person.
She should have been able to do that with the crime scene photos, but she couldn’t. Right now not only was she not getting any pictures in her head, she wasn’t even getting any static. That had never happened before.
The silence was so unusual to her it was eerie. But not unwelcome.
She had no idea how long the silence would last. But the way the agents across the table were looking at her—especially Conner—they were not willing to wait long to see. Maybe she would get out of this after all. But then she thought of Vince back at the ranch. She wanted to get rid of whatever guillotine blade that the FBI had hanging over him.
If only for Vince’s sake, she wanted her gifts to work, just this one time. Although, if she were honest, Adrienne knew she also wanted to show Conner Perigo what she was capable of.
She watched Conner and Seth look at each other. Seth finally broke the awkward silence that had been building. “Look, it’s early. Maybe I can get you a cup of coffee or something and that will help.”
Adrienne nodded, grateful for the reprieve. “Yeah, coffee would be great. I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night. I’m not sure exactly what’s going on. Maybe I’ve just been out of the game for a little too long and need to ease my way back in.”
“No problem,” Seth said. “You stay here and look through the pictures a little more. Conner will stay, too. I’ll get coffee and be back soon. Anything in particular in it?”
“No, just black, thanks.”
Seth stood. “I’ll run down to the coffee shop in the lobby and get it. If you drink what’s in our office, you’re liable to have to be chained up in the next full moon.”
Conner looked over at Seth. “If you’re going down there, I’ll have the usual.”
Seth rolled his eyes and snickered, walking out the door without responding.
“What’s ‘the usual’?” Adrienne asked Conner, her curiosity piqued by Seth’s response. In the long silence that followed, Adrienne wasn’t sure he was going to tell her.
“Skinny vanilla chai tea latte with no foam and sugar-free vanilla,” Conner finally said. “I get ragged pretty hard from the guys.”
Adrienne couldn’t help it; she broke out into a smile. The thought of this big tough-looking agent whose shirt seemed to be perpetually slightly wrinkled and whose tie was probably one of a dozen stuffed in his glove compartment, using the words skinny and latte when referring to his coffee was downright hilarious.
Conner smiled back, looking sheepish. “I know. It doesn’t exactly fit the tough-guy image.”
The way he cocked his head to the side caused his black hair to fall onto his forehead. Before she could stop herself, Adrienne’s fingers reached up to tuck the hair into place. Halfway to his head she realized what she was about to do and immediately lowered her hand back to the table. She studied the photos again intently, hoping he hadn’t noticed her...
Her what? Desire to touch him? Inexplicable need to be closer to him? Complete lack of control of her own hands?
Adrienne stared down at the pictures for a long time without looking up, grateful for the distraction, although she still wasn’t getting any helpful info from them.
“Are you sure these are all the work of the same killer?” she finally asked.
“Yes.” There was no doubt in Conner’s voice. “He has a signature that makes it clear they are all the same killer.” He didn’t offer any information about what that signature was. Adrienne didn’t ask, knowing he wouldn’t tell her anyway.
Adrienne was tired of looking at these poor dead women. It was so frustrating to review them without any understanding as to what and how it had happened. She pushed the pictures back toward Conner’s side of the table.
“I need a break. I can’t look at them anymore right now.”
She gazed at Conner, expecting to find more of yesterday’s hostile and condescending tone from him. Instead, he looked attentive, even the slightest bit sympathetic.
“You know, it’s okay,” Conner said gently. “Whatever’s going on here, whatever reason you’re not able to help us, it really is okay.”
Adrienne couldn’t help but respond to his gentleness. “This has never happened to me. The...nothing. I’ve always been able to hear or see or feel something before.”
“It’s been a long time since you’ve done anything like this, right? Maybe you just need to ease yourself back into it, like you said.” The gentleness was still there but Adrienne could hear the disbelief that colored his tone.
“You don’t understand. I always hear something when I’m around people, no matter what. It’s like a buzz. But right now I don’t hear anything.”
“Maybe it’s the pressure of the situation. Or maybe the pictures are too old or something.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Look, Adrienne. I want to give you this chance, while we’re here alone, to tell me if there’s something you want to tell me. You know, about your abilities or about when you worked for the FBI before.”
“I don’t understand.” Adrienne was honestly puzzled.
“I mean, if you were in some way exaggerating what you could do—in terms of profiling and working for the FBI—either then or now. Or, hell, even if you had completely tricked the Bureau before, you can tell me, and I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”
“What?”
“I’m just telling you, I’ll protect you from any repercussions. We’ll come up with some reason why you can’t help us that everyone will buy. I’ll even make sure Rick Vincent is taken care of and won’t be arrested.”
He had the nerve to sit there with his gorgeous green eyes and say this to her.
Adrienne struggled to keep her temper from boiling over. “So let me make sure I understand this. You think I deceived the FBI ten years ago when I worked for them and that I’m back again, lying now. Wasting my time and yours.”