Sixth Sense (A Psychic Crystal Mystery) Read Free Page B

bristled.
    “They’ve seen her on TV and they feel she could help them break the case.”
    “They don’t need a pseudo-psychic who couldn’t see the future if she tripped over it. She doesn’t know the first thing about murder. I’m the legitimate law enforcement professional, the one familiar with the case.”
    “Sour grapes,” Kate mumbled.
    Sarge’s eyes narrowed and skewered Jack’s. “Your vast knowledge about the subject hasn’t done you much good in solving your case, has it? You will go with her and make sure she gets anything she needs to solve this case.”
    “You mean like her assistant?”
    “Whatever she needs.”
    Katherine smothered a smile. She was mocking him. In front of Sarge and all the guys standing around doing a lousy job of pretending they weren’t listening. He didn’t find it the least bit amusing, but apparently everyone else thought it was hilarious.
    “I’ll go home and pack, Sergeant,” Katherine said pleasantly.
    After she left the precinct, Jack gritted his teeth and faced the captain.
    “She sells art for a living,” Jack said. “The kind of art with lines and shapes and colors that don’t look like anything.”
    “I don’t care if she’s a dog walker. Her track record speaks for itself. Now you go to Sydney and keep close tabs on her. Don’t let her out of your sight. You got a problem with that, take it up with the lieutenant or the captain. The orders come from higher up. My hands are tied. But if anything happens to her, I’m holding you personally responsible. Make sure the department looks good. Don’t screw this up.”
    Jack stewed all the way home. He didn’t need this aggravation. He wasn’t going to be a cop the rest of his life. He was going to law school at night, and he was close to graduation. As soon as he got his degree and passed the bar, he was going to be a lawyer. Maybe it was time to quit. His father had loved being a cop. Jack didn’t. But he wanted to catch the serial killer who had terrorized Midtown. That was a matter of personal pride.
    He was sure the murderer in Sydney was not the same man, despite what Crystal Ball Kate had said. But what choice did he have? He could either go to Sydney with the wacko psychic or quit the force. It would be so easy to call in his resignation.
    Jack walked into his condo and looked around at the clutter. What kind of a mess had he gotten himself into? He wanted to give Crystal Ball Kate a piece of his mind.
    Frowning, he picked up the phone and started to dial.

Chapter Three
    En route to Sydney, Australia
    “Miss, are you all right?” The flight attendant spoke in hushed tones. Katherine felt Jack’s arms reach over and gently shake her shoulders.
    “It’s just another bad dream,” Jack assured her. “She’ll be okay.”
    “Take your hands off me,” Katherine said, jolting forward until the tug of her seatbelt yanked her back against the uncomfortably stiff seatback. Agitated, she gripped Jack’s wrists and hung on for dear life.
    “You were having that dream about the plane crash again. You’re scaring the other passengers. Go back to sleep,” he ordered.
    Easy for him to say. Within minutes, the man was snoring like he didn’t have a care in the world, although in sleep Jack fidgeted as much as when awake, adjusting his hulking frame to find a comfortable position. Katherine almost felt sorry for him. Almost . The seats were too cramped even for someone of her size, and he had almost a foot on her. Her thighs rested in an awkward position on the hard seat cushion. She looked over at Jack. They’d been sitting next to each other on this plane for almost twenty hours. And he’d been stuffing his face for most of that time.
    Whenever Jack stood, his head bumped into the overhead luggage compartment. He was probably a bed hog, too. As if she’d ever share a bed with a man with all that body hair. She didn’t care much for cavemen. He had probably been a linebacker in college. A