The Innocent: FBI Psychics, Book 2 by Shiloh Walker Read Free Book Online Page B

Emotions tied to very, very ugly memories.
    Then she looked at the source of those memories.
    One Lincoln Dawson.
    Father of a girl who had been missing.
    For two months.
    The exact time when he’d broken up with her.

Chapter Five
    Back at the station, Jay had turned her head and looked at him, just once. But it had been a soul-deep look that had made him feel like she could see clear through him, all the secrets, all the wounds. Everything he’d struggled to keep hidden for the past eight weeks.
    It was as though she’d seen clear down to his soul.
    He hated it and, because it was easier to focus on anything except the naked vulnerability that look teased to the surface, he decided to focus on other things.
    As they headed down the street, he jammed his hands in his pockets, aware of Morgan and the man with her, who had yet to speak. He had a good eight-mile walk ahead of him. He’d point that out eventually, but for now? If they wanted a view of his back, fine.
    “The FBI, Jay? I know a couple of people who do security consults, darlin’,” he said after about five minutes. “Can’t say any of them know any FBI agents who’d come running at the drop of a hat.”
    “I didn’t drop a hat.” She shrugged. In the piss-poor light, her skin still managed to gleam like ivory. “I made a phone call.”
    “For the record,” Morgan said from behind them. “I’m technically not an agent.”
    Linc stopped, closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sky. After about ten seconds, he turned and faced Morgan and the man who really, really didn’t like to talk. Bluntly, he asked, “Who the fuck are you?”
    That got him a faint smile. “Cullen Morgan. I’m just along for the ride. That phone call Miz Roberts made interrupted a weekend with my wife.”
    Morgan…Cullen … “You’re that writer.”
    The man inclined his head.
    Linc drilled the heel of his hand against his right eyeball, hoping it might ease the headache that had started to pulse there quite some time ago. It didn’t do much. He hadn’t expected it to. After a few more seconds, he gave up trying and looked at Taige. “So you have an ID that reads FBI ,” he said, pointedly staring at said badge for a second before shifting his attention back to her face, “but you’re not an agent.”
    She dropped one lid in a quick wink. “Sugar, plenty of people work for the Bureau who aren’t agents. I freelance. Don’t worry. I’ve got all the authority I need to say everything I said back there in Dipshit, U.S.A.”
    “Dipshit, U.S.A.” He looked around the night-dark town of Hell. “Dipshit doesn’t touch it. Hell suits this town. More than you can describe.”
    “I can believe that.” As he slid his eyes over to look at Jay, Taige crossed her arms over her chest. “Why don’t you tell me about your daughter, Linc?”
    He froze.
    DeeDee …
    Then he turned away, started to walk. He needed to get started on that eight miles so he could get home, get behind the solid wooden doors of his home and bury himself in a bottle of whiskey.
     
    Jay let him get thirty feet away before she looked back at Taige and Cullen. “Why don’t you all find a place to stay for the night, then I’ll call you?”
    Taige glanced at her husband, then nodded. “That works.” She pulled a card out of her wallet. “My number.”
    Jay accepted, glad she’d managed to get her gloves back. Tucking it into her pocket, she looked up at Linc’s broad back, rapidly disappearing into the night. “You all might sleep more soundly if you found a place out of town.”
    “Don’t I know it,” Taige said, her voice more than a little disgusted.
    As they headed back down the street toward the bright lights of the police station, Jay turned and headed into the darkness. The farther she got, the darker it became, but she had the disturbing sensation that the farther she got from town, the safer she was.
    There was some fucked-up shit going on here. The police weren’t the