Chill of Fear by Hooper Kay

Author:Hooper, Kay [Hooper, Kay]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Detective and Mystery Stories, Government Investigators, Fiction, Romance, Romantic Suspense Fiction, Tennessee, Suspense, Noah (Fictitious Character), Psychics, Bishop
ISBN: 9780553585995
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 2006-06-27T07:00:00+00:00

Cullen Ruppe was a dark man in his fifties, powerfully built through the shoulders and arms, and with a longtime rider's slim hips and strong legs. He was also, Nate had informed Quentin under his breath, apt to view himself as a badass, possibly why he was apparently hell-bent on giving everybody a hard time.

Nobody was searching his tack room, not without permission from Management or, failing that, a warrant.

"I can't get a warrant," Nate told Quentin in a low voice as he joined the other man near the entrance end of the long barn, leaving Ruppe scowling just outside the tack room door. "Not on the word of a maybe-psychic who could have been walking in her sleep for all we know."

Quentin kept his voice low as well when he said, "I believe her, Nate. I believe we need to search that tack room."

"Yeah, I know you believe her. The question is, what do I tell Steph—Ms. Boyd—to convince her}"

"You said she was agreeable when you talked to her last night."

"Yeah, but she wasn't happy about the situation. Now I'm supposed to get her up at dawn to okay this? Look, what do you really expect to find in there?"

"I don't know. Something. Something to help us figure out who murdered Missy and Jeremy Grant—

and who knows how many of the others."

"You're expecting a lot of a lousy tack room, Quentin. People in and out all day, every day. What could be hidden in there?"

"I don't know," Quentin repeated. "But I think we need to find out."

Nate pursed his lips and blew out a slightly impatient breath. He looked tired, which wasn't surprising; he might have gotten five or six hours' sleep before Quentin's call pulled him out of his own bed, but it was more likely he'd been working in his office until well after midnight.

"You're asking me to go out on a pretty goddamned long limb here," he said finally. "We both know a thorough search of that room is going to mean checking under floorboards and behind walls. If we don't find anything after all that, the owners of this place are going to raise hell."

"I know. I wouldn't ask it, Nate, if I wasn't convinced we'll find something worthwhile in there."

The cop studied him for a long, silent moment, then sighed again. "Ah, shit. Okay, I'll go roust Ms.

Boyd, see if I can think of a reasonable explanation to give her. You got any suggestions?"

Quentin was more or less accustomed to coming up with reasonable explanations for psychic

"hunches" or leads, since the SCU members often found themselves in that position, but this time he was stumped. Absolutely nothing he knew of in the information he had on the missing and dead kids connected them in any unusual way with these stables. Nothing.

No connection, no warrant.

"I wish I did, but... sorry."

"And I don't suppose Ms. Brisco is ready to go public with this psychic stuff?"

"I doubt it. She's only beginning to believe it herself."

"She believes enough to insist there's something hidden in that tack room.

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