Page 4 of Preying Game

Chapter 3

Jonah? Jonah?

There was no answer.

As the sound in her head cut off, Alice held back a sob. Eyes closed, she balled her hands into fists, clenching them at her sides, struggling not to fall apart. For the first time in . . . months, she had felt hope. It had evaporated like drops of water falling on a hot griddle.

Tears gathered behind her eyes as she fought to bring her emotions under control. She’d been lying in this bed at night for an eternity, silently calling out for help. No one had ever responded until tonight. Then a man who said his name was Jonah Ranger had answered. That sounded like a real name. And it wasn’t a name she would have made up—was it? She didn’t know anyone named Jonah, or Ranger for that matter. But could she have read it in a book?

She squeezed her fists tighter, trying to work her way through what had happened. She’d called out to the universe, and one person had heard her. Unless she was imagining the whole thing because she wanted so desperately to grab onto hope.

She thought about the man at the other end of the connection. He’d said he was a detective, and he’d seemed like he wanted to help her. Then the contact had snapped. Could she find him again?

He’d said he was tall with dark hair and blue eyes. She liked that. And the picture made her feel closer to him.

He didn’t answer when she called out to him now. But she had to believe that for a few minutes they’d made a connection.

Was it only for that brief time? Could she reach him again? When she tried, it felt like she was crying into a great void.

The frustration was like a horrible weight pressing down on her chest. It kept her awake for a long time, and she knew she was going to have a bad day tomorrow.

oOo

Jonah had slept badly, but he was anxious to speak to Frank. Some days the boss didn’t come in, and Jonah was on edge until he saw the familiar gray Lexus pull into the parking area. Then he forced himself to wait in his own office for a few minutes before hurrying down the hall to the executive suite.

“Come in,” Frank called out in answer to the knock on the door.

The Decorah head had to be in his late fifties, but he gave the impression of being at least a decade younger. It was like he’d discovered a secret way to tap into the fountain of youth—and that connection was keeping him in top shape. Now his keen eyes gave Jonah a speculative look as he walked into the small but nicely furnished room.

“Sit down and tell me what’s bothering you,” Frank said, reaching for the golden eagle coin on his desk. He leaned back, using his thumb to flip it in his hand.

Jonah sat, gripping the wooden arms of the guest chair until he ordered himself to relax.

“A woman called out to me,” he said.

“You mean telepathically?”

Jonah nodded, thinking how casually Frank had asked the question. A couple of years ago Jonah couldn’t have imagined having this chat with anyone. Then Frank had started a conversation with him in the bar at a law enforcement conference. Frank asked if Jonah often used intuition to solve cases. And Jonah was sure the man already knew the answer. They’d talked for several hours, off and on. When the Decorah head offered him a job, he’d switched from the public to the private sector in a hot minute. And he hadn’t been disappointed. The other agents in the group had special talents that gave them an edge in investigative work. There were even a couple of other telepaths on the staff, Grant and Mack Bradley.

They and Frank had helped Jonah develop his skills. But he’d never had an experience like the one last night.

“Tell me what happened,” Frank said.

Jonah told him about Alice’s voice coming first over the radio, then directly into his mind. “The woman says she was kidnapped while working at a camp in Western Maryland. The man who took her made it look like she’s dead. But she’s really being held captive. She says she was taken in August.”

“Lucky she’s still alive.”

“Yeah.”

“And she doesn’t know where she is?”

“Right.”

“What’s her name?”

“Alice Davenport.”

“Maybe you should start with some conventional research. Is a woman named Alice Davenport missing? Is there a news story about her death?”

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