Chapter 3 #2
The shadows where Devyn sought her answers didn’t easily offer up information. In some instances, more than will and determination were necessary. As if the darkness where the answers lurked wanted proof of Devyn’s commitment and intent.
On cue, her cell phone rang, and she used the hands-free toggle on the steering wheel to answer. “Hi, Marlene.”
“You’re relying on the ringtone,” Marlene accused, not unkindly. “What’s wrong?”
“I am,” Devyn admitted. She and Marlene were close, connected in ways that defied any science-backed explanations.
Their psychic gifts were different, but that only strengthened their bond.
Marlene had surely sensed the upheaval moments ago when the vision had swamped Devyn.
Even if she hadn’t, Devyn couldn’t effectively lie to her mentor.
“A little bit of everything is off the rails right now.”
“Do you need me to look?”
Marlene’s gifts ran closer to prophecy than Devyn’s. For a moment, she wanted the security that a glimpse into the future could offer. Then again, the future was always in flux. “No, thanks.”
“Meaning not yet.”
Marlene knew her too well. “Yes. That’s right,” Devyn confirmed.
If failure was the likely outcome, Devyn didn’t want to be discouraged.
Right this second, she didn’t have the extra energy to power through the clouding thoughts of a potential failure.
And Marlene couldn’t hide or soften the results of her searches with Devyn the way she often did with regular clients.
They were just too close.
“I’m on the way, Marlene. He didn’t take her far.”
The pause was telling. Marlene was doing an intuition check. “Your confidence is a good sign.”
That was the boost Devyn needed. “Thanks.” She drove on, focused on being patient and attentive to any clues. Despite years of control over her gifts, affirmations from Marlene were always welcome. Especially in stressful situations.
“Be wary of the water,” Marlene warned.
A shiver lifted the hair on Devyn’s arms. She was currently driving toward Lake Michigan, relying purely on her intuition. Nell was still alive but Devyn had to find her and put a stop to whatever her husband had in mind.
“Do me a favor?” Devyn asked.
“Anything, my dear.”
“Call Detective Laurier. Tell him the burglary was staged. Nell isn’t at a spa or away from her phone. Her husband kidnapped her.”
Early this morning, before anyone in the neighborhood had been awake to witness it. She was seeing those details more clearly. “He went back and tossed the place after.”
“After what?”
Devyn appreciated the prompt, but it didn’t spark any new revelations. “Not sure. I’m only sure she’s alive.”
Marlene hesitated. “All right. I’m tracking your phone.”
“Thanks.” Devyn appreciated her friend and mentor even more during times like this. “Love you.”
“Love you,” Marlene replied, then ended the call.
As the resulting silence washed over her, Devyn relaxed, staying open to any intuitive guidance. Better than any navigation app, she followed the nudges and wound up near the Lincoln Park Conservatory. Soft, insistent pressure along the back of her neck directed her to the parking area.
Finding a space, she pulled in and cut the engine. She closed her eyes, reaching for any sign of Nell. Fear coated her throat as the feelings assailed her: darkness, tight space, body cramps, headache from a foul, pungent smell clogging the air.
Fuel or oil?
The bastard must’ve stashed her in a trunk.
Angry all over again, Devyn searched the parking lot, calling for Nell, waiting on the helpful nudges, but none came.
She refused to accept defeat. Nell needed her. No one else was even close to unraveling the lies Daniel Pereda was spinning. For all she knew he’d keep the police twisting until it was too late for Nell.
Be wary of the water.
Devyn looked around. Other than Lake Michigan, she didn’t see a body of water in the immediate area.
Nothing close to the conservatory anyway.
Her gaze drifted to the lake. If Nell was out there, a rescue might be impossible.
What was she missing? Her gaze slid over the yacht club nearby. She’d been led to this point.
Why? Why?
The question burned in her throat. She wanted to scream and throw a fit until the answers came to her. Childish impatience had never been effective. More importantly, tantrums never provided anything accurate.
As a kid when this feeling came upon her, she’d just grab hold of whatever popped into her head, often spitting out the information to the embarrassment of her parents or the detriment of anyone nearby. When the abyss gave her something, she shared it, no filters.
Not knowing any better was hardly a helpful excuse. The behavior made her an outcast as a child and her lack of control alienated her parents as well.
Fortunately, Marlene had come into their lives and saved them all from labeling Devyn’s gifts as an uncontrollable curse. Devyn shivered, then immediately offered up gratitude for all she’d learned.
Phone in hand, she closed her eyes and trusted. Herself. Her skills. Her connection to her client. Opening her eyes, she turned and started walking through the parking lot, keeping her mind and heart open to the next breadcrumb, the next sign that would lead her to Nell.
Her gaze landed on a bright red sedan further down the aisle. Drawn to it, she followed the intuition.
“Nell? Nell!”
Devyn called out, pounded on the trunk, and peered into the windows.
Nothing seemed out of place, but she knew the car was important.
If a cop had been with her, they could’ve run the plates or done some other search.
All Devyn had was her gift. And that was more than enough.
She circled the car, pleading silently for a sign, for some indication that this was Nell’s vehicle. Or the husband’s.
No.
Mistress.
It was a whisper across her mind. Another vision blurred her view of the parking lot.
She stood slightly apart, watching Nell, her husband, and his mistress arguing at the house. A fight. Raised voices. Nell breaking free of her husband’s hard grip. Running. Only to be caught, trapped. Hauled away.
Devyn circled the car once more, and this time the stickers caught her eye.
Several decals marched along the bottom of the rear window for a variety of locations around the city.
Membership parking privileges here at the conservatory, as well as museums, the aquarium, even the yacht club that was practically next door.
There was no subtle nudge this time. As soon as she recognized the yacht club logo, she was nearly shoved in that direction.
Not unlike Nell, she realized as she broke into a run.
She didn’t concern herself with how she’d gain entrance.
Unlike the mistress, she wasn’t a member.
All she could do was trust her intuition to make a way.
She paused briefly to catch her breath as she approached the yacht club. Being late in the summer season, the club was doing brisk business, even on a weekday morning. Devyn followed along with a group of people heading into the club and out toward the docks.
She’d never been here before, had little more than zero knowledge of boating, but she moved with certainty.
The sounds of people, water, boats at rest, and others in motion, faded away.
As if she were standing next to Nell, she heard the woman weeping softly.
Not by choice. She tried to scream. Couldn’t.
Was exhausted from the effort. She fought her restraints to no avail.
She was confined, hidden, and growing desperate.
“I’m coming,” Devyn murmured under her breath.
She hurried, her steps as quick as she dared over the wet surface.
The breeze caught in her hair and the dock swayed a bit underfoot, but she was following a route as clear and bright as an airport runway on a dark night.
Closing in on the goal, the boat glowing as if it were in a spotlight, she grabbed the railing and scrambled board.
“Nell!”
The boat rocked and a faint thumping sounded under the deck. Devyn started forward, looking for the access and then forced herself to call 911 first.
Gripping the railing along the short stairwell, she was abruptly sucked into Daniel Pereda’s stinging temper. The scene played out as if she were a real-time witness.
He was furious with Nell for messing up a good thing.
Keeping his voice low, he made violent threats.
He shoved her down the stairs, not giving a damn about her safety, then flipped her over and shoved pills down her throat.
Satisfied she’d swallowed the drugs, he bound and gagged her and promised she didn’t have long to live.
His unspoken intent was clear: he’d come back later, take the boat out, and dump Nell’s body into the lake where she’d never be found.
“Not on my watch, you son of a bitch,” Devyn murmured. Gritting her teeth against the remnants of the vision, she completed the call and reported the situation to the emergency operator.
“Is the woman injured?” the operator asked. He had a warm voice, steady and calm. The image that popped into Devyn’s mind was of a man, mid-thirties, with dark skin and kind eyes. She’d never know for sure, but she appreciated the comforting image amid the stress of the crisis.
“I, um...” Devyn rushed down the steps and into the dimly lit cabin area. “I’m not sure yet.” She hit the speaker button and let the operator know. “You’re on speaker.”
Nell’s eyes, wild with fear, softened with relief when she recognized Devyn. “There’s a gag in her mouth,” she reported. “I don’t see any blood.” She eased the cloth from Nell’s mouth and helped her sit up a bit as she coughed.
“Are you hurt?”
Nell shook her head. “Not really.” She gulped in another breath. “Drugs.”
“The victim took drugs?” the 911 operator queried.