Dream Eyes (Page 50)

Dream Eyes (Dark Legacy #2)(50)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

Judson tightened his grip on the phone. “You could have mentioned that sooner.”

“I wanted to save the best for last.”

“Got a name for this online psychic counselor?” Judson asked.

Gwen’s eyes widened.

“The online psychic goes by the name of Sundew,” Nick said. “And before you ask, I looked it up. Sundews are carnivorous plants. Cute, huh? I’m thinking that it would be interesting to find out if any of the other lucky heirs contacted Sundew prior to the murders.”

“Yes,” Judson said. “It would be very interesting. How the hell did you come across the info on Sundew?”

“I spent a little time on the computers of the two heirs I just mentioned,” Nick said smoothly. “It’s amazing how many people leave their passwords lying around.”

“You know, it would be very inconvenient if you happened to get arrested in the course of this investigation,” Judson said.

“You don’t need to spell it out.” Nick’s tone went cold and flat again. “I’m aware that if I get picked up, I will discover that the Coppersmiths have never heard of me.”

“Much as we might like to pretend we’ve never heard of you, that’s not an option.”

“No?”

“No. For better or worse, you now fall into the friends-and-family category. Mom would brain me if you weren’t around to walk Abby down the aisle. If you run into trouble with the authorities, you keep your mouth shut and you call me.”

“What will you do?” Nick said, reluctantly curious.

“Coppersmith, Inc., has a herd of lawyers, very good lawyers. They will take care of the pesky details. You won’t sit in jail long.”

“Good to know.”

“But my life would be vastly simplified if you did not get picked up in the first place,” Judson warned.

“Relax, I’ve never been caught. I’m not about to spoil my perfect record of non-arrest now. Send me that list of people you want your mom and me to vet, and be sure you take good care of Gwen. Anything happens to her, you’ll answer to me.”

“Understood.”

Judson ended the call and looked at Gwen. “Evidently not all psychic counselors conduct themselves according to your own high ethical standards.”

“Damn,” Gwen said. “Nothing like a killer psychic counselor to give the profession a bad name.”

Thirty-one

Gwen watched Judson pick up the coffeepot and move through the bathroom doorway to fill the pot with water. Max followed him on the off chance that Judson might also refill the food dish.

“You think this Sundew is using the chat room to troll for business, is that it?” Gwen asked.

“That’s my best guess,” Judson said through the doorway. “Online rumors probably send prospects his way. He can check them out anonymously in the chat room, select those who look like serious prospects and contact them privately to offer his services.”

“We may have put a glitch in his business model here in Wilby, but if we don’t stop him, he will continue to kill, won’t he?”

“Sure.” Judson emerged from the bathroom and poured the water into the coffeemaker. He put the pot on the hot plate and dropped the pre-measured bag of coffee into the machine. “He’s addicted by now, probably has been for a long time.”

Gwen shuddered. “But you said he was a pro, that he does it for the money.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not addicted to his work, specifically the feeling of power that it gives him.”

Max abandoned hope of another meal and vaulted up onto the bed. He settled down and half closed his eyes.

Gwen tried to suppress the chill that iced her nerves. “If Sundew is addicted to murder, he’s simply another kind of serial killer, even if he does consider himself a pro.”

Judson flipped the switch on the coffeemaker. “Just another one of the monsters.”

“Okay, say he will need another crystal tuner,” Gwen said. “How would he go about replacing Louise? It’s not like you can look up crystal tuners online or find one in a phonebook. At least I don’t think you can.”

Judson watched the coffee drip into the pot as if the machine was a crystal ball that would reveal secrets. “If I were the killer, it might occur to me that the best source of leads would be Evelyn’s files.”

Gwen raised her brows. “It might occur to you?”

He winced. “Sorry about that. I’ve been thinking like the bad guys for a while now. Over time it becomes a habit.”

“No need to apologize,” she said briskly. “You aren’t really thinking like the bad guys when you try to get inside their heads.”

“No?” He sounded amused.

“No. You’re thinking like a good investigator. You’re doing what you were born to do—hunt bad guys.”

“Thanks. I’ll cling to that theory. How did Evelyn find her test subjects two years ago?”

“I see where you’re going here.” Gwen took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Evelyn had her own counseling records from the time she worked at the Summerlight Academy. They were stored on her computer. Her files would provide a nice, neatly categorized list of people with talents. It’s horrible to think that Sundew is going to stalk some poor innocent crystal tuner and force her to tune his weapon for him.”

“He’s not going to get the chance to do that because we’re going to stop him,” Judson said.

“Do you really think we can do that?”

“Yes,” he said. “I really think we can do it. And soon.”

The coffee finished brewing, and they drank it in silence for a time. After a while, Gwen lowered her cup.

“It wouldn’t be all that easy to find them, you know,” she said.

Judson looked at her. “You’re talking about the talents in the Summerlight files?”

“Yes. I told you that the one thing most of us learned was how to keep a low profile and pass for normal. The truly dangerous talents really excelled when it came to learning those lessons. But there were also the students who were overwhelmed by the onset of their abilities or too fragile psychologically to handle them. Some of them ended up in institutions. Some ended up on the streets. Some simply disappeared. This Sundew will have his work cut out for him trying to find a crystal tuner in those files.”

“You’re good at passing for normal,” Judson said. “Why didn’t you go into the mainstream professional world? With your talent you could have done brilliantly. I’ll bet you could easily be pulling in several hundred bucks an hour as a high-end shrink. No one would have to know that it was your psychic talent that made you so good at your work.”