After the first doubtful looks when he tried to explain the issue, he clammed up. And endured. Better than ending up in a padded room. Eventually, he learned how to build mental walls to keep some of it out of his head. But the walls didn’t always work. The only true relief was isolation.
A whine from the bed on his left indicated where Spike lay. The dog took up over half the available space. He shoved his broad head beneath Zach’s hand.
Animals were different. Even when troubled, their brains didn’t scream. They soothed Zach’s nerves, calming his energy. At the moment, Spike projected only mild concern. After all, he’d lived with Zach long enough to know that nightmares were the norm.
Zach leaned over to grab the TV remote. He had no desire to relive the dream. Experience taught him that the best thing to do was to give up on sleep for the next hour or so. He flipped through the channels and came across a replay of the evening news. He usually avoided such broadcasts—hated hearing about things he could do nothing about—but an image flashed up on the screen.
It was an image of a young woman with startling gray eyes offset by olive skin. A mop of long curls framed her face. Dark curls, not red. It was a candid shot rather than a professional one. She wasn’t smiling, but her eyes danced as though she enjoyed a private joke. Even with the difference in hair color, she was distinctive.
Zach’s heart slammed to a halt. Jessie. Why was she on the news? He flailed for the volume button and turned it up.
“...last seen just after her Friday shift at St. Boniface Hospital. Police were notified when she did not show up for work on Saturday. Law enforcement has found no trace of either Jessica Balais or her vehicle.” The image changed to one of Jessie standing in front of a sleek, coppery car. “Miss Balais is the third woman to go missing in the last two weeks. On Wednesday, Laura Tibbolt disappeared after work. Miss Tibbolt is an assistant at a design firm.” Another picture of a young blonde woman. Then it changed to a third person, also young. “The previous week, Sarah Ivery disappeared too. Detectives have found no leads in any of these cases. Anyone with information can contact the Winnipeg Police Hotline.” The number scrolled across the screen.
The news moved on, but Zach’s thoughts were frozen on Jessie’s image. His heart thundered so loud it drowned out the TV. What had happened to her?
He’d seen her Friday morning. She’d disappeared at the end of that shift. Had someone taken her? Her and two others? Recent years had seen a rapid increase in drug use in Winnipeg. With it had come the violence. But three women missing? That was unusual.
He’d only just met Jessie, so he really didn’t know her. Maybe she was involved in something—something that had gotten her into big trouble. And she’d been gone almost twenty-four hours.
She might already be dead.
It was a police matter. It was their job to find her and the other two women.
Zach threw back the covers. He was twitchy. He wanted todosomething. Moments later, he still stared at the screen. But his mind wasn’t engaged in watching the television. It was frozen on an image of eyes the color of moonlight. That beautiful, confident woman was out there in the hands of some sick bastard.
Zach had two choices. To sit there and try to convince himself that there was nothing he could do. Or admit that his ability might be uniquely suited to finding three women in desperate trouble.
He reached for his jeans and put them on.
* * *
It would be considered a fool’s errand if it weren’t for Zach’s ability.
It was still a crazy idea, he conceded after hours of cruising the streets in his old pickup truck. He’d known her for twenty minutes, but the thought of that confident person reduced to fear, and maybe in pain, twisted him up inside.
Dropping his mental walls let the emotions of whoever was near blast through his brain. He was most accurate at reading emotions within a few feet, but if he dismantled the walls, he could read people much farther away. He hadn’t tried it over distance for a long time. Not since the early days, when he’d struggled to put the ability into some kind of context. He’d quickly discovered that building mental walls was a survival strategy. They kept him out of the psych ward.
After the first hour, his head ached and his fingers drummed a constant rhythm against the steering wheel.Anger. Hate. Love. Lust. Jealousy. Greed.He’d been put through the full gamut of human emotions multiple times. Along with them came brief flashes of the reasons—images interwoven with the emotion.
None led him to Jessie. And driving while he searched was dangerous as hell. He missed stop signs, drifted into oncoming traffic, and even drove through a couple of red lights. The defensive abilities of other Sunday drivers saved his skin, but it was only a matter of time until he got in an accident. So he parked and pushed his awareness to levels he’d never before achieved. He searched for the terror of someone he’d only known for twenty minutes, but with whom he’d managed, somehow, to connect.
Zach stayed at it until his head ached as if it was going to explode. It was late. He needed to get home to feed his horses, dog, and donkey.
By then, the emotions were coming to him in surges, impossible to decipher or separate. He gave up when he lost the ability to determine where they even originated.
As he turned the pickup for home, his heart hurt. Was he turning his back on Jessie? But despite long hours of searching, he’d found precisely nothing.
If she was out there, he couldn’t find her.
At least, not yet.
* * *
Jessie had always considered her life to be boring. Not a problem, really—she usually liked it that way.
Danny’s form of adding excitement to her day had not been entertaining. It had led to extensive reading of self-improvement books. Which, she must admit, started the promising transformation of appreciation.
But now... Now, she was a captive in a hellhole.
