Dreaming Death (Krewe of Hunters #32) - Heather Graham Page 0,6
stare at it, a frown furrowing his features.
Keenan understood that information gained via the Krewe of Hunters network was unusual; they had sources who had special insight. And while Keenan himself had the special talent—or bad luck, as he sometimes felt it was—to communicate with many a deceased soul, he’d yet to know a ghost who could use a phone to call in a tip.
“Jackson—”
“Trust me. She simply hasn’t been discovered. No, I don’t know who the killer is. I want you on this one. You know Fred, and you work especially well with him.” Jackson seemed to hesitate just a moment, then added, “You’ll also be working with a new partner.”
Keenan had worked with a number of other agents—top-notch all of them. This case was as high profile as they came: when prostitutes were being found dead and mutilated in the nation’s capital, it was bound to attract major attention.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“She’s new.”
“A rookie?”
“This will be her first Krewe case, yes. She’s just out of the academy.”
“Wait, wait. These are some of the most heinous murders imaginable, and you’re giving me a rookie—a new agent? One I don’t even know yet?”
“Special Agent Stacey Hanson. She’ll find you at the crime scene.”
The name was vaguely familiar to him.
“This is happening in our backyard,” Jackson continued. “You’ll have the full force of the Krewe behind you.”
Still. A rookie?
“Okay, wait,” Keenan said. “I want to make sure I understand the situation. There’s another victim—ostensibly murdered by the killer who struck in DC once and Virginia once already—but she hasn’t been discovered yet. And I shouldn’t get to Lafayette Square until six thirty. Fred Crandall will be our local contact...and I’m working with a partner I’ve never met, who has never worked a case before?”
“That’s it.”
“And this new agent will find me there?”
“Exactly.”
“Jackson, I know you’re right on top of everything, but I’m just saying. This is going to wind up being high profile, and I’m not sure a rookie—”
“The rookie is the reason we know a body will soon be discovered, Keenan. You’ll do fine. Work with her. Yes, it’s going to be high profile. And I know you know what you’re doing. Trust me on this, Keenan. You were a rookie once, and I trusted you.” He paused just briefly. “This new agent will be invaluable. Catch me up on everything you discover today as soon as you can.”
Keenan started to reply, but Jackson had already rung off.
Groaning, he dragged himself up and to the shower.
Trust me, Jackson had said.
He did trust Jackson Crow. There was no better man, personally or professionally.
He let the water run long and hot.
Work with the rookie. Well, he would try.
* * *
It had been coming. The dreams always started off with something innocuous and then led to the dangerous and deadly.
Life had taught Stacey that few people would ever believe her. It was more likely they would lock her away, since, by all appearances, her knowledge would mean she’d had something to do with the violence.
The dreams had been building for the past few weeks.
A walk, early morning, sun just rising, through Lafayette Square. And then the sight of feet sticking out from behind the base of a statue.
One foot with a shoe, one without.
Last night, she had seen the body.
Anyone with a television, a laptop, a phone, or even eyes had to know about the two recent murders that had been committed in DC and Alexandria. The gruesome details screamed from every media site and newspaper and magazine in the country.
So, Stacey had called in what she knew—straight to Jackson Crow.
Stacey had become an agent very recently and hadn’t expected to be put out in the field so quickly, and certainly not on such a case. She had wanted to give the Krewe a heads-up, grateful there were people out there who believed her. She’d only had a jump on the discovery of the body.
She couldn’t help but wonder just what good that was. She hadn’t prevented anything.
“I’ve got a seasoned agent heading to the scene you described,” Jackson Crow told her over the phone. “He’ll go in after the 9-1-1 call. We have to be cautious, or it won’t go over well with local law enforcement—because you understand explaining dreams to those who are unaccustomed to the unusual is not an effort that succeeds.”
“Of course, sir,” Stacey assured her direct superior. “Show up at the scene at approximately seven fifteen. Give Special Agent Keenan Wallace a bit of time to do