Kay Hooper - Chill of Fear

Books by Kay Hooper

The Bishop Trilogies

1 Stealing Shadows 08-2000

2 Hiding in the Shadows 10-03-2000

3 Out of the Shadows 10-31-2000

1 Touching Evil 08-2001

2 Whisper of Evil 06-2002

3 Sense of Evil 06-2003 (paperback)

1 Hunting Fear 08-2004

2 Chill of Fear 07-2005

3 ??

The Quinn Novels

1 Once a Thief 10-2002

2 Always a Thief 06-2003

3 Lady Thief 03-2005

Romantic Suspense

Amanda 08-1996

After Caroline 09-1997

Finding Laura 07-1998

Hunting Rachel 09-1999

Classic Fantasy and Romance

On Wings of Magic 12-1994

The Wizard of Seattle 05-1993

My Guardian Angel (anthology) 01-1997

Yours to Keep (anthology) 10-1999

CHILL OF FEAR

A Bantam Book / August 2005

Published by

Bantam Dell

A Division of Random House, Inc.

New York , New York

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

Copyright 2005 by Kay Hooper

Bantam Books is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Hooper, Kay

Chill of fear/Kay Hooper.

p. cm.

eISBN 0-553-90177-X

1. Government investigatorsFiction. 2. PsychicsFiction. 3. Tennessee Fiction. I. Title.

PS3558.O587 C48 2005b 2005045264

813/.54 22

www.bantamdell.com

v1.0

Leisure, Tennessee
Twenty-five years ago

The little girl huddled, shivering, in the back corner of the closet. She didnt like the darkness, and shut her eyes tightly so she wouldnt see it. She held her hands over her ears, pressing hard, to shut out the sound.

Thathum.

Thathum.

Thathum.

But she couldnt close it out, no matter how hard she tried, and had the frightened notion that it was inside herself. Sometimes, if she put her hand over her chest, she could feel her heart beating, and thought it would sound like that.

Thathum.

But this sound was in her head, thrumming, beating like tiny wings as though something tried desperately to escape.

Go away, she whispered.

Thathum.

Look.

Thathum.

Listen.

She couldnt read very well, it had always been difficult for her, but she could see these words as though they were etched in her mind in bright, flowing script. They were always like that, the weird, shiny letters spelling words she understood.

Hurry. Look.

She couldnt not look. Had never been able to ignore or withstand those commands.

Hands still covering her ears, she reluctantly opened her eyes. The closet was dark, as shed feared, but light seeped underneath the door. And even as she focused on that sliver of brightness, she felt the slow, heavy vibrations in the floor underneath her.

Hide.

I am, she whispered, trembling. Her gaze was fixed on that sliver of light, and the dread inside her was swelling, huge, filling her.

Its coming.

Her breath caught on a silent sob as a bit of darkness crossed the sliver of light, and the vibrations beneath her ceased.

Then the bit of darkness swallowed the light, and she heard the closet door rattle.

Thathum!

Thathum!

Thathum!

Oh. No.

Its here.

Five years ago

Youre a hard man to find.

Without taking his eyes from the papers spread out on the table before him, Quentin Hayes said, But not impossible, obviously. Who was looking for me?

Noah Bishop.

Quentin did look up then, his brows rising. Of the Spooky Crimes Unit?

Bishop smiled faintly. Ive heard the nickname.

Telepathically? That is supposed to be your psychic ability, right?

It is. But I didnt need telepathy to pick up on the ridicule. He shrugged. Well probably always hear variations of that. But respect will come with success. Eventually.

Quentin studied the other man, noting the curiously light gray eyes and scarred but striking face that spoke of strength and danger, and undoubtedly prevented all but the bravest souls from expressing open ridicule. That, plus his extraordinarily high success rate as a profiler, had earned Noah Bishop quite a lot of respect within the Bureau, even if this new unit of his was earning just as much mockery.

Still, Quentin had earned his own considerable reputation as a solid investigator who preferred to work alone, and wasnt at all eager to join a teamor go public with abilities he had been at some pains to conceal.

So whyre you telling me? he asked.

Thought you might be interested.

Oh, yeah? I cant imagine why.

Of course you can. Bishop came into the room and sat down on the other side of the table, still wearing that faint, amused smile. You saw me coming. Months ago? Years ago?

Refusing to reply to those dry questions, Quentin said, Im not on the clock, in case nobody told you that.

What I was told was that youve spent at least two previous vacations here in Tennessee. In this same small town. Probably sitting in this same seldom-used conference room of a police department that hasnt had to deal with much except traffic tickets, domestic disputes, and the odd bootlegger or meth lab in the last twenty years or so. Here you sit, going over the same old dusty files while the local cops shrug and keep the betting pool going.

I hear the odds are tipping in my favor, Quentin said.

They admire sheer persistence.

Most cops do.

Bishop nodded. And most cops dislike mysteries and unsolved cases. So, is that why youre here?

You mean you dont know?

The mockery didnt appear to disturb Bishop in the least. Matter-of-factly, he said, Im not clairvoyant. Not a seer, like you. And Im a touch-telepath, not an open one. Not that touching you would necessarily help me to read you; virtually every psychic Ive known has developed a shield to guard themselves.

Then you just assume Im psychic, is that it? Quentin had to ask, even though Bishops specific reference to seer meant he was doing more than assuming.

No. I know youre psychic. The same way you know I am, because we tend to recognize each other. Not always, but most of the time.

So when do we exchange the secret handshake?

That would be just before I give you your decoder ring.

It surprised a laugh out of Quentin; he hadnt marked Bishop as a man with a sense of humor. Sorry. But you have to admit, an FBI unit made up of psychics is pretty off the wall. Almost comic book.

It wont be one day.

You really do believe that, dont you?

Science is understanding more every day about the human brain. Sooner or later, psychic abilities will be correctly classified as just another set of senses, like sight or hearing, just as normal and just as human.

And you wont be head of the Spooky Crimes Unit anymore?

Lets just say that its only a matter of time before the doubts and disbelief are proven wrong. We only have to be successful.

Ah, gee, is that all? Quentin shook his head. The closed-case-to-open ratio in the FBI is runningwhat?about forty percent right now?

The SCU will do considerably better than that.