Firestorm. - Firestorm. Part 22
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Firestorm. Part 22

Jesus, it wasn't bad enough that she felt a sense of desolation when they separated mentally. Now she was feeling physically lost when he wasn't in the same room.

Get over it. It was all a part of this damn togetherness. Or if she couldn't get over it, just ride with it until she could bow out of his life.

Loneliness.

Pretend it was another wall to overcome. Chip away, and maybe she'd be better at pushing the loneliness away than she was at being on the attack.

But there was no way she was going to be able to sleep right now. She'd done too much, and too little. So much for winding down. She felt as tense and strung out as a dope addict trying to go cold turkey. Hell, perhaps that merging between them was addictive. She'd become aware that the time she spent with Silver by the lake was lazily seductive, almost sensual in its beauty.

Because he wanted it that way for her.

Stop thinking about him. He was already dominating too much of her life. Take a shower and relax.

She turned and headed for the bathroom. That was the right idea. A hot shower and she'd be fine. She'd be able to go to sleep and practice the control Silver had given her to push away all thought of him.

She was out of the shower and drying off when her phone rang. She froze. It was after four in the morning. Jason?

She hurriedly wrapped her towel around herself and ran out of the bathroom to pick up her cell phone on the night table.

"You sound very alert for this hour of the morning. Am I keeping you awake, Kerry?"

Not Jason. The man's voice wasn't familiar. It was deep, smooth, every syllable precisely enunciated. "Who is this?"

"I believe you can guess. No, that's a childish game, and we're not children. This is James Trask."

Shock ripped through her.

"You're not speaking," Trask said. "Don't you believe it's me?"

"Yes." She had to steady her voice. "What do you want, Trask?"

"I thought it was time we talked. I've been thinking about you a good deal lately."

"I can imagine. You're probably salivating over the idea of incinerating me like you did Joyce Fairchild."

"Oh, I'm way past that stage. I admit that was my first impulse. I was very annoyed that you managed to escape when I set Firestorm loose on you in Macon."

"My sister-in-law didn't escape. Her baby died."

"Do you expect me to regret that? They were in the way." He paused. "It's really your fault the baby died. You shouldn't have teamed up with Silver."

"And that's your excuse?"

"I don't make excuses. I'm just commenting."

His voice was casual, without expression, and she had to take a moment to smother the flare of anger. "Why did you call?"

"I wanted to hear your voice. I've been sitting here looking at your photograph and thinking how alike we are."

"Bullshit."

He chuckled. "You sound so indignant. But it's true, Kerry. Think about it."

"You're a murderer. I don't have to think about it."

"Is that supposed to make me angry? Murder is only a word. You could probably kill given the right circumstances. Can't you think of one?"

"No."

"What if you were able to kill me?"

She drew a deep breath. "I'm going to hang up."

"I don't think you will. You're too curious about me. Just as I'm curious about you."

"I'm only curious about how a bastard like you justifies murder."

"The trick is not to try to justify, just accept. And your curiosity extends beyond that question. Why else did you go to Marionville?"

She didn't answer. "Why did you follow me?"

"For the same reason that drove you. I'm beginning to believe we're kindred spirits."

"No way."

"Did you enjoy the Krazky house? I was particularly proud of my work there."

"Three children died in that fire."

"Tim Krazky was a bully. I don't like bullies."

"So you killed him and his family."

"Fire cleans and destroys all the ugliness. Tim Krazky was very ugly." He chuckled. "Though you'd think he was even uglier after the fire got through with him."

"My God, you're sick."

"I'd be insulted if I thought you really meant that. But I know it's just part of the battle you've been fighting all your life. You got off on the wrong path and you're blind to the truth, but that's okay. I'll teach it to you. Unless Firestorm has to kill you. I find I'm regretting that possibility. Isn't that strange?"

"The battle I've been fighting is against people like you."

"There is no one like me. Except perhaps you." He paused. "But you didn't answer me. If you had the opportunity to kill me, would you take it?"

"Yes."

"That was difficult, wasn't it? Most people find it hard to admit the capacity to kill. It's so much easier once you face your true self."

"Is this conversation going somewhere?"

"You're cutting to the chase." He chuckled. "I'd do the same. I knew we were alike the moment I watched you standing in those ruins at Marionville. I felt a closeness to you that I've never felt with anyone else before. We're two sides of the same coin."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know exactly what I'm talking about. We both love the child."

"Child? Fire. You're talking about fire?"

"Of course. You probably think you hate fire, but it's not true. It's dominated your life, and you can't help but be fascinated by it."

"You're crazy."

"No, you're just not seeing clearly. I believe it's my duty to open your eyes before the child takes you. My duty and my pleasure."

Smother the anger. "Then meet with me."

"You're not ready yet. You need to be seasoned. You need to feel the power of life and death and know that you're in control. There's nothing like that emotion on the face of the earth."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You will. How is your dog?"

The change of subject threw her off guard. "What?"

"I've decided to let your wonder dog get in a little practice. I'm having to run a few tests to correct some problems in one of my pieces of equipment. It didn't work properly on your brother's house in Macon. I think I've made the right adjustment, but I need a trial run."

She felt as if she'd been kicked in the stomach. "Trial run? One of the people on your hit list?"

"Oh, no. I have something else in mind. Something that will bring us together. I have a challenge for you. Do you know how many warehouses there are in the Washington area?"

"I've no idea."

"Then you'd better find out. Or let your dog sniff it out. Now, what's his name? Oh, yes-Sam."

"You're saying you're going to destroy a warehouse."

"Yes. But it wouldn't be a true test unless there was something besides real estate to burn." He paused. "I'm choosing very carefully. I want someone young, with her whole life before her. Maybe a teenage girl . . ."

"You bastard."

"Yes, I can almost visualize her. A little plump, with long dark hair. Lovely, silky olive skin. If she wasn't wearing those hideous torn jeans, she'd look like a young Mona Lisa. So much potential and so little judgment."

"Who is she?"

"Find the warehouse and maybe you'll find her."

"And expose myself so that you can kill me."

"There's always that possibility." He sounded amused. "But how exciting it will be for you to find out if you value your own skin more than that poor innocent teenager. It will be a journey of self-discovery."

"Why are you doing this?"

"It could be I'm bored and want to challenge myself and you. It could be that I want to draw you close to Firestorm and burn away all the lies you've been telling yourself." He was silent a moment. "Or it could be because I'm lonely. You're the first woman I've felt this close to since Helen. It doesn't really matter which is true."

"Helen?"

He ignored the question. "I'm hanging up now. I've enjoyed talking to-"

"Wait. When are you-how much time do I have?"

"Two days. Midnight. The infamous ticking clock. Isn't that exciting?" He hung up.

Christ.

She threw the phone down and ran toward the door. She had to get to Silver.

Two days . . .

For God's sake, stop shaking." Silver grabbed a blanket from his bed and wrapped it around her. "It's going to be okay."

"You didn't hear him." She clutched the blanket closer. Lord, she was cold. "He'll kill her."

"He may not even have a target in mind."

"He knows who she is. He's already decided who he's going to kill. I could feel it."

"A teenager. A warehouse." Silver's forehead creased. "A runaway using a warehouse as base?"

"It makes sense. Unless that's what he wants me to think." She lifted a shaking hand to her temple. "But I don't think he was lying. He was enjoying it too much. He wanted me to know how bold and clever he is. He practically drew me a picture of her."

"Then maybe we can find her," Silver said. "Or the warehouse."

"He asked me if I knew how many warehouses there were in this area. There could be hundreds, thousands."

Silver nodded. "But if this teenager is using the warehouse to live in, then she'd have to feel secure in the knowledge that she wouldn't be discovered. That means no security guards or people working in the place."

"Which doesn't narrow it down very much."

"We'll take what we can get." He reached for the telephone. "And we need some help with those statistics."

"Who are you calling?"

He was dialing quickly. "George."

He didn't give you any other hint, Kerry?" George asked. "It's not much info to go on."

"We've already established that fact," Kerry said. "And I've told you everything Trask said. Judge for yourself."

"We are a bit testy, aren't we?"