The Writers' Circle

Rennie drummed her fingers on the desk, considering her options. There were none. She picked up the phone, held it in her hand for a few seconds then dropped it back on the cradle. "Coward," she berated herself. Making the call would undoubtedly subject her to the usual ridicule and jeering remarks, maybe even the open hostility she'd often experienced in the past. But that wasn't the worst of it. It was what happened afterwards when she had to meet with the detective face to face and the guarded look she was given, the one that said you're either a freak or you're mad as a hatter. Sometimes, she wondered herself if it wasn't true.
She drew in a deep breath then let it out slowly. It didn't matter what they thought, because not making the call meant a young girl would die. She didn't know exactly when it would happen, but there was a sense of urgency that told her it would be soon, possibly even tonight. Normally, the impressions were too vague, too out of focus for her to even consider calling the police, but this one was different. This one shook her to the core. She'd started picking up the girl's fear early this morning and it had escalated throughout the day until Rennie couldn't ignore it any longer. She had to do something. Even if they didn't listen to her, at least she'd know she tried.
Setting her chin determinedly, she picked up the phone and dialed the police department. "I need to speak to someone in Homicide." 
"Is this an emergency?"
"Yes.no, I mean, it could be."
"Ma'am, are you reporting a homicide?"
Rennie's shoulders slumped. Here we go, she thought. "No, it hasn't happened yet." 
"I'm sorry, Ma'am, did you say it hasn't happened yet?"
She wanted to scream at the woman to just let her talk to a homicide detective, but past experience had taught her that losing her temper would get her nowhere. "I believe I have information on a murder that's about to take place. Please, I just need to speak to someone in Homicide."
An impatient sigh. "Is this an ongoing investigation?"
Rennie gritted her teeth. Of course not, you stupid woman, I just said it hadn't happened yet. Out loud she said, "Yes, it is."
"I see, now it makes sense. Which detective did you need to speak to?"
"I.I don't remember his name. Perhaps if you told me who's on duty right now, it will ring a bell."
Another impatient sigh. "Michael Arnold, Ryan Stone, Vince Tyler, Mac Logan. Shall I go on Ma'am?"
"No, it's.the last one."
"Mac Logan?"
"Yes, that's him."
"Just one minute, Ma'am, and I'll connect you."
Rennie clutched the phone to her ear, praying Detective Logan had an open mind. Her stomach was in knots, she was shaking like a leaf, and a cold sweat had broken out on her forehead. If she'd gone in personally, he probably would have had her carted off and tested for drug use. As it was, she'd be lucky if he didn't send some nice men in white coats to her house to escort her to the nearest mental institution.
"Mac Logan," a man's deep voice sounded in her ear.
"Detective Logan, my name is.well, that's not important. I'm calling because I want to report a homicide that's going to take place."
"Going to take place?"
"Yes. A young girl has been kidnapped and."
"Has a ransom been demanded?"
"No," Rennie said hastily, "I mean, I don't think so. Listen," she tried to steady her voice. "The man who took her is going to kill her and I think it's going to happen tonight."
There was a short pause before he spoke again. "Maybe we should start at the beginning. Did you witness the kidnapping?"
"No, I just know it happened. He's going to kill her. He's just waiting for night to fall and." Fear. My God, the gut wrenching fear that girl was going through.
"Miss, are you still there?"
"She's scared," Rennie said in a hoarse whisper. "You have to help her."
"Do you know where she's being held?"
"No, but I might be able to find her if.if I concentrated hard enough or had something that belonged to her." She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the awkward conversation she knew was coming.
"Let me get this straight. You didn't see the kidnapping, but you know it took place, and you think you can locate her if you touched something of hers."
"Yes," she said feebly, "that about sums it up."
"I don't suppose you know the girl's name?"
She could hear the doubt in his voice but at least he was still listening. "Give me a minute." Rennie opened her mind, let the emotions of the girl in.
Mac Logan sat at his desk wondering what the hell he'd done to deserve getting this nut case today. He was tired and hungry and was only minutes away from leaving when he'd taken the call. Still, there was something in her voice that made him believe the woman was genuinely spooked about something whether it was real or imaginary and he felt compelled to at least listen to what she had to say. He waited for several minutes, his impatience with mounting the longer she remained silent. Finally she spoke again.
"I'm not sure." Rennie started. "It doesn't make sense. I keep seeing an angel and a star."
"I'm sure you do," Mac said caustically. "Listen, Miss, I'd love to sit here while you figure out what your visions mean but I've had a very long day and would like to get home. Not to mention, if the murder hasn't even taken place, it's not my department."
Rennie's chest tightened. She didn't understand why it wasn't coming to her when she felt so connected to the girl emotionally. "I know you think I'm crazy, but I'm telling you a murder is going to take place and soon. Maybe it's Angela. Sometimes I can only get the sound of it." Angel. She tried to clear her mind, to siphon out the horrific sensation of impending death and grab onto the girl's name, but it remained elusive.
"Why don't you think on it for awhile and if you come up with something, you can call back and talk to one of the other detectives."
Frustrated and drained from the effort to fix on the girl's name, Rennie snapped. "Listen, detective, I don't give a rat's ass if you think I'm crazy or not. I'm telling you this girl has been kidnapped and she's not going to live through the night unless you do something about it. Just check on it. Take five minutes and see if anyone with a name sounding like Angela has been reported missing, that's all I'm asking."
"Fine," Mac sighed. "I'll check it out. Give me your name and number and I'll call you back."
"I'd rather just hold."
"Suit yourself, lady."
Mac put the crazy woman on hold then got up and walked down the hall to Missing Persons. "Hey Janice, have you received a missing persons report on a young woman named Angela within the past week or so?"
"Angela? You have a last name?"
"Sorry, that's all I got."
Janice Yates, the lead Missing Persons investigator, turned to her computer and scrolled through the list of names. "No Angela."
"Any names that sound like Angela?"
She shook her head. "Alaina is the closest, but she's forty-two."
"Thanks," Mac said, irritated even more now that he knew there was nothing to the woman's claim. He strode back to his office and snatched up the phone. "No one named Angela or anything remotely sounding like it. Are you satisfied now?"
Tears welled up in Rennie's eyes. She'd been so sure he'd come back and confirm the girl had been reported missing. "Maybe no one knows she's missing yet," she suggested.
Mac tried not to sound too brusque but his patience was wearing very thin at the moment. "If no one knows she's missing then there's not much I can do to find her, is there?"
"No, I suppose not," she said, unable to disguise the deep disappointment. "I'll call back tomorrow. Maybe by then you'll have heard something."
"You do that," Mac told her then promptly hung up.
He finished stuffing the active files in his briefcase, locked up his office then headed out. He swung by his partner's office to let him know he was leaving and got caught up discussing one of the cases for another twenty minutes before he told Ryan about the woman who'd called. But Ryan hadn't laughed, as he'd expected him to. Instead he'd asked why Mac didn't believe it was possible some people were capable of psychic abilities.
"I think it's possible some people are very good at reading emotions and use that talent for their own gain by claiming to be psychic, but I don't believe anyone can predict the future or see things that have happened in the past."
"What do you call it when you have a hunch about something, a gut feeling that you can't explain? Don't you think that's psychic ability on some level?"
Mac snorted. "Hell no, it's just plain intuition and years of experience on the job. Don't tell me you believe this nut case might actually know something about a real abduction?"
Ryan shrugged. "Let's just say I wouldn't rule it out."
"Well, I'm ruling it out.  See you tomorrow."
Mac left Ryan's office, quickly dismissing the idea there was anything to what the woman had told him. He was a realist and dealt with life that way, refusing to believe in anything that couldn't be proved. He was sure the woman believed in what she was telling him. That was quite evident by the passion with which she'd spoken, but it still didn't make it a fact. He was just getting into the elevator when Janice called out for him to hold up. 
"You're not going to believe this," she said breathlessly. Janice held out the paper she had in her hand. "This just came in."
Mac took the paper and scanned it, his brows furrowing. A young college student had just been reported missing. Her parents stated they thought she'd disappeared sometime the night before because the last time anyone had seen her was around ten o'clock when she'd left the library. Her name was Angel Starr.

                       ***
Rennie got up to make a pot of coffee. Not that she needed anything that would add to her jittery nerves but she was wearing out and didn't want to fall asleep. If she slept, she might dream, and she had no intention of putting herself in a position where she couldn't shut it off. As it was, she'd already done her level best to remain detached from this girl and felt guilty for doing so. She'd have a cup of coffee, pull herself together, then try to focus on something more tangible the police could use to find her. 
Six o'clock, Rennie noted. There was still three hours until sunset. She took her cup of coffee and brought it back to the living room then settled herself on the sofa. She thought briefly about Detective Logan and couldn't really blame him for thinking she was off her rocker. It was foolish of her to have called without trying to hone in on the girl's location first or at least coming up with a name. What did a star and an angel have to do with it anyway? Heavenly bodies maybe. Was it possible she was wrong and what she'd seen was just some kind of symbolism that the girl was already dead?
Rennie shook her head. She couldn't believe that, not when she was still sensing this overwhelming fear and despair. If the girl was dead, there would be nothing but the sad emptiness that always followed when she knew it was too late. She drained the last of her coffee and set her cup on the table then leaned back and closed her eyes. Angel.
It was dark and cold. The rope was so tight on her wrists it had rubbed her skin raw and every movement brought pain. It didn't matter. He was coming back soon and this time he'd do much worse than just rape her. Her heart pounded in her chest. A frightened rabbit waiting for the big bad wolf to return and devour her. Daddy please, come find me. How many times had her father warned her about walking on campus alone at night? But she'd trusted him, this man who now held her captive, and never would have believed he could hurt her the way he had.
"Talk to me," Rennie whispered. "Tell me where you are, who you are. Give me something."
Oh God, he'd come back. No, no, not the man. Had someone found her? Her mind went blank for a moment. Where am I? I don't know, I don't know. Think. On the campus somewhere. It had to be, because he hadn't taken her far. One of the dorms? No, someone would have spotted him carrying her in. How many others had there been? Had they gone with him willingly as she'd done only to find themselves bound and gagged in some cold, dark place, scared out of their minds? God, she'd been so stupid to trust him but she'd been flattered by his obvious attraction to her, had even toyed with the idea of letting him seduce her into his bed. She'd been stupid, so stupid.
Renne's head snapped up at the loud, incessant rapping on her door. Her limbs felt heavy when she rose and she moved sluggishly to the foyer to see who was knocking so impatiently. She leaned into the door, peering out the peek hole. Good Lord, she thought, staring at the massive chest before her, the man had to be at least six foot four if she couldn't even see his face. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he rapped again, or rather pounded on the door. It came to her in a flash; it was the detective she'd spoken to earlier.
Rennie drew back the deadbolt then flipped the lock on the door handle and opened it to greet her visitor. "Someone finally reported her missing?"
Mac was pleasantly surprised by Rennie O'Neal's appearance. She was tall and slender with hair the color of corn silk, but it was such a contrast to the gypsy image he'd pictured, for a moment he just stared at her. "I think we need to talk," he finally said when she looked up at him expectantly.
Rennie stepped back to let Detective Logan in. His voice matched his looks, she thought, because both were wholly male. He was a big man, as she'd known before she'd even opened the door, and he would have been quite an imposing figure if she hadn't sensed the kindness that lay beneath the tough exterior. He had jet black hair and eyes that reminded her of the jade statue on her bookshelf and he would have been quite handsome if it wasn't for the austere expression he wore. She wondered why he'd come to question her about the girl when he obviously had serious misgivings about her. She closed the door then led him to the living room and waited until they were seated on the sofa to speak.
"How can I help you Lieutenant?"
"I believe you know something about the girl's abduction and I can understand why you're scared, but if you saw who did this, Miss O'Neal, I need to have a name so I can find her before it's too late."
"She doesn't know his name, but he's not a complete stranger. She thinks she's still somewhere on the campus but he blindfolded her so she's not sure. He's left her in the dark somewhere so she can't even look around and try to recognize where she's at but it's cold so it's probably a basement."
"In a basement near the campus," Mac repeated dryly. "That doesn't give me much to go on. You said she knows him."
"Yes, but not very well. She trusted him though, because she'd seen him around campus and was flattered by his attention." Rennie's eyes met his. There it was; that look of total disbelief in her psychic abilities accompanied by the idea she was somehow involved in the girl's abduction. "Look, Detective, I don't expect you to believe I can psychically pick up on this girl without even knowing her, but you must believe I might be able to help find her or you wouldn't be here."
"Angel Starr," he said.
"What?"
"Angel Starr, that's her name. You're right, I don't believe in this mystical power you claim to have, but the girl is missing and if you can help locate her then I don't care if you find the answer in the bottom of a tea cup."
Rennie couldn't help smiling. "I don't read tea leaves, Detective, but if you can get your hands on something that belongs to Angel, then I might be able to find her. It'll be dark soon so the faster we do this, the better chance we have of getting to her before he does something."
Mac wasn't sure what to make of Rennie O'Neal, but she certainly didn't seem to have any screws loose as he'd first believed. "I'll take you with me to talk to her parents and ask to see her bedroom. I can tell them you're working with me, although letting them know exactly in what capacity we're working together probably wouldn't be such a good idea."
She stood up. "You're wrong, Detective Logan. When a child is missing, a parent will grab at any chance to bring them home safely, no matter how remote or far-fetched." Parents, she'd discovered, were the only ones who didn't look at her like she was a freak.
                             *** 
Rennie waited until Detective Logan closed the bedroom door and they were alone to look around. Make-up scattered across a vanity, bed piled high with throw pillows, pictures of Angel and her girlfriends pasted to the vanity mirror. A dull ache settled in her heart at how happy and safe the girl always felt here. She moved her eyes around the room, shifting from object to object until she spotted an old stuffed teddy bear propped up on the window sill. Half its fur was missing and one button eye was dangerously close to falling off, but Angel had a soft spot for it and hadn't been able to part with it. 
She walked to the window and picked it up. "Her father gave this to her," she said quietly. "She's been crying for him, praying that he'll find her before the man comes back." She drew in a shuddering breath. "Angel knows he's going to kill her."
Mac watched her face, his own heart squeezing in his chest at the very real pain she was experiencing. That wasn't to say he believed in her psychic ability exactly, but he didn't think she was involved with Angel's disappearance. Rennie closed her eyes, hugging the bear to her chest. Her breathing became rough, erratic, and she started to tremble violently. Good God, what was going on inside that pretty head of hers? 
"He talked her into going for a walk with him," Rennie said. "She liked him and went willingly, but when they cut down a dark path he grabbed her and dragged her into the woods. She was so scared but she kept trying to convince herself that he'd only rape her then let her go." Tears slid down the sides of her cheeks. "Only rape her? My God," she choked, "she's so young, too young to have to endure something like that." She wiped away the tears and tried to steady herself. Crying wouldn't help.
"Miss O'Neal, where is she?"
His deep voice calmed her. Her fingers stroked the tattered bear. "He punched her in the jaw and thought she was unconscious but she was just kind of dazed by it. She.she dropped her books in the trees and he left them there but he took her purse with them. They walked downhill then veered off to the right but he stayed off the path and it was so dark she had trouble figuring out where they were." Rennie hugged the bear to her. "Angel tried to struggle, tried to get away, so he hit her again then tore off her shirt and wound it around her head. He tied her hands too, but she doesn't know what with."
Mac moved closer to her. "Miss O'Neal, where did he take her?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. I can't see it if she didn't see it. Maybe.maybe if we could locate where she dropped her books."
"Let's go," Mac said, suddenly feeling the urgency himself. If she was right, they had less than ninety minutes to find Angel.
Rennie set the bear back on the window sill. "I need something else of hers that I can take with me. If we take the bear." her voice trailed off but Mac nodded his understanding. If they took the bear, her parents would surely question it and they didn't have time to explain. She walked around the room, picking up random items before zeroing in on a gold cross. Angel wore it often and it was almost as precious to her as the bear was. She slipped it in her pocket and headed for the door, then stopped abruptly when a wave of nausea rolled through her.
He caught her just as her knees buckled. "You're white as a ghost," he said, keeping a firm grip around her waist. "Do you need to sit down for a few minutes?"
"No, he's back. She can hear him walking around above her. Just help me to the car, I'll be fine."
They left hurriedly, stopping just long enough to tell Angel's parents they'd call as soon as they knew anything. Mac helped her to the car then took the driver's seat and made the short drive to the college campus where Angel had last been seen. Even as his mind fought to make some logical sense of what was happening, he was beginning to believe Rennie really did possess some mystical power. More astonishing than that, he could almost feel the electrically charged air around her, as if she was surrounded by a soft, invisible current. She didn't speak on the way there and he didn't push her. The poor thing looked like she'd shatter into a million pieces if she had to expend even one more ounce of energy.
"There," Rennie suddenly perked up when they pulled onto the campus. 
She pointed towards the college library and barely waited long enough for him to come to a complete stop before scrambling out of the car. Clutching the cross in her hand, she stumbled across the parking lot, glancing up gratefully when Detective Logan again supported her by putting his arm around her waist. She stopped about fifty yards from the library doors then looked around for only a moment before taking a path that wound through a wooded area.
"Here," she said hoarsely, leading him off the path and into the woods. A sob escaped her lips when they spotted the scattered books not ten feet into the tree line.
"My God, you did it," he said with sincere admiration. He left her to inspect the area, being careful not to disturb anything. It was obvious there had been a scuffle here and one of the notebooks had Angel's name neatly printed on the cover. He returned to Rennie who was trembling even worse than she had back at Angel's house. "Miss O'Neal," he said gently, "which way did he take her?"
She nodded off to the right. Together, they made their way downhill through the woods and wound up in a small clearing. She led him to the right for several minutes then stopped. "This is where he tied her hands and covered her face," she said shakily. "I don't." Angel's cry echoed in her ears. Daddy, where are you? Rennie looked up at the detective helplessly. "We have to hurry; he's not going to wait until dark."