Ultraviolet ✔️

4.1

Chapter Four

My heart pounds, steadily thumping in my chest. For a second, my whole body tenses, and my eyes shut as I anticipate the vision to hit me like a freight train. But it doesn't happen. Nothing comes.

I hold on a little tighter, and bile sours my mouth. Even now, nothing.

It's not going to work. I don't know if I really thought it would, but somehow, I'm still disappointed.

I pull away, stepping back in slow motion, trying to will a vision to come to me.

It's the first time I've ever felt this way. The first time I have ever wanted to watch someone die. And it's not working. Then again, that level of unfairness shouldn't be a shock to me. Nothing about my situation has ever been fair.

"Any leads on the perpetrator?" I hear Stan ask.

"He was smart," the cop replies. "We've got almost nothing on him. Whoever he is has a clean record. God, even the scene is perfect. Not a thing out of place. Ain't ever seen anything like it. There's no indication there was any penetration. Any idea why the killer would make it look like a rape? "

As I listen to the cop describe a killer, my heart plummets. This guy was sadistic— a killer who planned everything out, making the murder perfect, clean, crisp and down to the detail.

I realize that they have nothing. No leads. No idea where to go. He covered his tracks and made it look like a sex crime when it wasn't. There's so much here that doesn't quite add up, making things even more muddled and confusing.

I feel like the only one who can bring her justice. A vision would give them something to go off of, some means to identify who did this, but the sad truth is, I have nothing.

My phone starts buzzing, and since it's Chief Conrad, I have to answer. "Hey."

"Carrigan," Chief says. "Any visions yet?"

"I didn't see anything," I mutter in frustration. "I couldn't get anything out of it."

The chief sighs on the other end of the phone, the receiver picking up on the noise of his cheek scratching against the microphone. "You did all you were expected to do. Just let Reed and Walsh handle the rest."

But I can't bring myself to walk away from the case. I can't just abandon the task at hand. It sounds strange, having this sort of devotion to a woman I've never met, but I feel loyal to her. I feel like I have to help her in whatever way I can.

"I don't want to let them handle the rest," I tell him. "Is there any way I can assist in the investigation?"

He pauses for a second. I imagine he's got that frown on his face like he's thinking it over. "You have no obligation to uphold here. You don't have to do anything."

"I want to help," I press. "Please let me help."

"Fine, Carrigan," he replies. "If you insist, fine. Just don't do anything reckless."

I wasn't sure he'd give in, but the fact he did makes me feel somewhat victorious. "Thanks, Chief."

"Don't mention it, kid."

With that, he hangs up. As I'm slipping my cell back into my pocket, Joel taps me on the shoulder.

I can tell whatever he's got for me isn't good.

"We've got nothing on Valerie," he says. It's like he's having trouble believing it himself. "I hate being stuck like this on a case. The last thing I want is to have to consult the FBI on this."