Chasing Morgan_ Book Four_ The Hunted Series - Jennifer Ryan
Chapter One
One year ago . . .
MORGAN’S FINGERS FLEW across the laptop keyboard propped on her knees. She took a deep breath, cleared her mind, and looked out past her pink-painted toes propped on the railing and across her yard to the densely wooded area at the edge of her property. Her mind’s eye found her guest winding his way through the trees. She still had time before Jack stepped out of the woods separating her land from his. She couldn’t wait to meet him.
Images, knowings, they just came to her. She’d accepted that part of herself a long time ago. As she got older, she’d learned to use her gift to seek out answers.
She finished her buy-and-sell orders and switched from her day-trading page to check her psychic website and read the questions submitted by customers. She answered several quickly, letting the others settle in her mind until the answers came to her.
One stood out. The innocuous question about getting a job held an eerie vibe.
The familiar, strange pulsation came over her. The world disappeared like a door slamming on reality. The images came to her like hammer blows, one right after the other, and she took the onslaught, knowing something important needed to be seen and understood.
An older woman lying in a bed, hooked up to a machine feeding her medication. Frail and ill, she had translucent skin and dark circles marring her pain-filled eyes. Her pain washed over Morgan like a tsunami.
The woman yelled at someone, her face contorted into something mean and hateful. An unhappy woman—one who’d spent her whole life blaming others and trying to make them as miserable as her.
A pristine white pillow floating down, inciting panic, amplified to terror when it covered the woman’s face, her frail body swallowed by the sheets.
Morgan had an overwhelming feeling of suffocating.
The woman tried desperately to suck in a breath, but couldn’t. Unable to move her lethargic limbs, she lay terrified and helpless under his unyielding hands. Lights flashed on her closed eyelids.
Death came calling.
A man stood next to the bed holding the pillow like a shield. His mouth opened on a contorted, evil, hysterical laugh that rang in her ears and made her skin crawl. She squeezed her eyes closed to blot out his malevolent image and thoughts.
Murderer!
The word rang in her head as the terrifying emotions overtook her.
Morgan threw up a wall in her mind, blocking the onslaught of disturbing pictures and feelings. She took several deep breaths and concentrated on the white roses growing in profusion just below the porch railing. Their sweet fragrance filled the air. With every breath, she centered herself and found her inner calm, pushing out the anger and rage left over from the vision. Her body felt like a lead weight, and lightened as her energy came back. The drowsiness faded with each new breath. She’d be fine in a few minutes.
The man on horseback emerged from the trees, coming toward her home. Her guest had arrived.
Focused on the computer screen, she slowly and meticulously typed her answer to the man who had asked about a job and inadvertently opened himself up to telling her who he really was at the core.
She replied simply:
You’ll get the job, but you can’t hide from what you did. You need help. Turn yourself in to the police.
None of her personal information appeared on the website, and she’d put a lot of time and effort into keeping her identity and location a secret for reasons of her own. He’d never find her.
A chill ran over her, despite the warm sun on her skin.
She put through the charge and tried to erase the vision from her mind. She’d told him to go to the police. Nothing more she could do. She didn’t have any proof a crime had been committed. You couldn’t make accusations against people based on a vision. Even if she went to the police with what she knew, they wouldn’t take her seriously. She’d learned that the hard way.
The help she provided Tyler and the FBI was different. Her unique link with Tyler allowed her to assist him with some of his cases. Tyler had nothing to do with this man. She could ask him to investigate, but why would he? He had a hard enough time believing what she told him about the cases he was working on. She didn’t want to have to convince him all over again that what she saw was real and true. It hurt to have to convince him every time, despite the ample proof she’d given him on multiple cases. After all this time, he should believe her—believe in her.
She didn’t want to think about Tyler right now. He’d be in Colorado today. Close. Their connection that much stronger, and the harder he’d ignore it and push her away. Maybe she should give in and go see him.
Why couldn’t he stay in San Francisco?