Free Fractured by Lisa Amowitz Page A

Remnants of past events whirled by like windblown petals, but my gaze focused in on that single long hair.
    It didn’t belong to Brittany. Her hair was short and black.
    The vision narrowed and crystalized.
    It belonged to a woman.
    The person who’d killed Brittany Byers was a woman.

22
    Jeremy
    Saturday: 11:08 PM
    â€œF uck,” Bobby Pendell muttered.
    â€œI’m coming for you, Bobby. Just hold on.” Gabe had already swung into action, readying herself to crawl under the low pews.
    â€œNo!” Bobby hissed. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
    First his feet emerged from under the pews, and a moment later, a dust-covered, flannel-shirted Bobby Pendell stood smiling, dangling an invisible object from his two fingers.
    From the corner of my eye, I saw Brittany’s ghost brighten from a shimmer to a smudge.
    â€œInteresting, Bobby,” I said, squinting and peering closer.
    â€œIt’s a hair, shithead,” he said. I smiled. The sound of his impatience signaled that Bobby Pendell was in control. And that maybe Agent Reston’s creepy claims were working—that the drug she’d injected him with had held him back from the brink without shutting down his freaky third eye.
    Marisa scrunched up her face. “That’s a pretty long hair. Like a girl hair. The victim?”
    Bobby turned to her, still dangling the long hair from his fingers. “No. Brittany had short black hair. This belongs to her attacker. A female with long hair stuck under the same kind of black knit cap and bandana as your attacker.”
    â€œWeird,” said Gabe. “Are you sure the hair isn’t from another victim?”
    Bobby smiled grimly and cut me a look that told me there was a lot more behind that statement. “Couldn’t be surer.”
    I supplied the plastic bag from my pocket and he dropped it in. I returned the bag to my coat pocket.
    â€œHow do you know, Bobby?” Gabe asked pensively. “Why are you suddenly able to control this when yesterday you were—you were falling apart?”
    Bobby put his arms around Gabe and drew her into a kiss. Marisa flashed me a questioning look, but I only shrugged.
    â€œBecause, baby,” he said, “practice makes perfect, right?”
    Marisa and I held hands, but did not follow suit with the face-sucking. Ever since I’d gotten here, there’d been very little spark between us and I couldn’t help but feel just a bit envious. Here was Bobby Pendell, not even eighteen, staring death in the eye and tonguing his girl right in the middle of a church. “Ah, youth,” I said.
    Gabe wrenched herself free, her expression far from lusting. In fact, she looked like she could spit flame with her next breath. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Bobby,” she said. “Do you think we just waltzed out the door and skipped to the orientation? Marisa called my phone and I left it under the couch on speaker. We heard everything. Every. Damn. Thing.”
    â€œFoiled again,” I said. Bobby cut me a malevolent look. I understood it now. I was the only person among us who did not terrify him.
    â€œApologize, Bobby,” she said fiercely. “You promised you’d never lie to me. I gave you the chance to fess up—but you didn’t.”
    â€œI, uh.” Bobby rubbed at his scalp with a palm.
    â€œHe only wanted to keep you from worrying, Gabe,” I said. “It may be boneheaded, but that’s the way he is.”
    Bobby glared at me like he was about to launch himself at me again. Gabe scowled at him and shook her head. “Okay. Short version, you need the help of the anti-psycho drug Agent Reston shot you up or the visions will eat your brain.”
    â€œThat’s, um, well…” Bobby looked at me for support. Clearly, he lacked the tools to keep from stuffing his other foot in his mouth. Since I only had one foot at my disposal, he figured I was his