Taken (Second Sight) by Hazel Hunter Read Free Book Online

that.
    Mac put the photos back, turned off the light, and went to the small desk in the corner of the bedroom. In the middle drawer was a checkbook–utility bills, shoe repair, rent. He picked up a black month-at-a-glance calendar. There were only two appointments for the month, one of whom was “Olivos.” That had to be Anita, Ben’s wife, and the reason that Mac had met Isabelle. Her false admission on television had cost her. He leafed forward and found nothing, except, wait, in October, on the 23 rd , just the word “Dad.” In the photos, there’d been nothing recent of him. His death date.
    Mac flipped to the beginning of the year–more client last names, the dentist, but no first names, no friends. He set the calendar back in place.
    Isabelle is alone.
    He went through the other drawers and found stationary supplies and, in the bottom drawer, there was a large manila envelope. He opened it and pulled out a thick, ivory colored diploma.
    “Psychology,” Mac read aloud.  
    Was it the default degree to which unfocused students sometimes gravitated? Somehow Mac sensed that it wasn’t. He glanced back at the closet. Her psychic ability had come before college. A psychology degree might help her to work with clients. Or maybe it was part of understanding her own psyche.
    Mac had to smile a little.  
    Psychology is good. That could help.
    He replaced the diploma and closed the drawer. At her dresser, he reached into the back of her lingerie drawer but there was nothing. But as he opened the drawer of gloves, he paused. Though he’d realized she wore different ones, he hadn’t known there were so many. He picked up a soft grey pair that he recognized.
    Isabelle is a survivor. She doesn’t run from her gift. She runs from people.
    He skimmed the back of his fingers along the line of gloves, left to right. She had said that reading him would mean the end of their relationship. He recalled the look on her face when he told her to just do the reading–fear. Mac replaced the linen gloves in the line with the rest.  
    She was willing to use herself as bait to capture a serial killer who delighted in torture. Despite what she had seen at the crime scenes or read in the objects, Isabelle had been courageous enough to agree to Ben’s plan. And yet the thought of their relationship ending was unthinkable.
    She’s brave , Mac thought, as he closed the drawer. She’s smart . And she’s a survivor .
    He looked at his reflection in the mirror behind the dresser.
    And the Chameleon?
    He thinks he’s found someone like the others. But he hasn’t. Isabelle isn’t like them. She’ll fight to survive. He should have stuck to his pattern and picked a younger victim. He didn’t realize he’d left a fingerprint, been on security video at the hospital, and was very likely on video at the Federal Building. But one thing hadn’t changed: his need for notoriety.  
    Mac froze as a piece fell into place.
    Another thing had likely not changed as well. The killer was a Chameleon who used costumes to blend into his surroundings. In the Federal Building, that could only amount to a few possibilities. They had to canvas costume stores.
    Even though it was midnight, Mac took out his phone and dialed Dixon.
    “Hold on, Isabelle,” he muttered. “Hold on.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

    Isabelle had been awake for hours by the time the Chameleon had arrived. Though she’d slept in a few short segments, the pain of being shackled was something she couldn’t ignore. But being awake had helped her. She’d racked her brain to remember everything and anything Mac had ever said about the Chameleon.  
    But as he sauntered slowly down the corridor outside, his shoes clicking in a slow but steady rhythm, he whistled. And, to her shock, the sound completely unnerved her. Casual and light, it wasn’t a tune she recognized but she immediately broke out in a sweat. It was as though the coming pain were normal, expected, and utterly routine.  
    She