Free My Heart Belongs To You: A Psycho Thriller by Michael A. Walton Page A

you on any chosen day when we’ve met , what I was wearing, what type of shoes, lipstick colour and how I had my hair , ’ Jane chuckled softly, ‘ f irst I knew about the biscuit thing though.’
    ‘ Okay, so she has an eye for fashion , ’ conceded Turner , ‘ b ut I reckon a lot of this hype about savants is just that, hype, something to sell newspapers or add the spooky factor to a documentary.’
    ‘Stephanie , would you help me for just a moment , ’ called Jane gently to the still pacing woman.
    ‘Ok ay Jane , ’ came the monotone answer.
    Jane guided her gently by the elbow to where the two men were standing ,   ‘Stephanie , would it be okay if I just ask you a couple of things?’
    John’s sister kept her head down , her eyes continuing a study of her feet , and simply nodded.
    Jane carried out a quick bit of finger work on one of the laptops and placed it on the refectory table facing Turner .  He slipped on a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles , hanging from a chord around his neck , and studied the screen.  It showed a calendar for the year 1854 and prompted a look of surprise.  Jane smiled and turned to Stephanie . ‘ Can you tell me what day it was on 4 February 1854 , Stephanie?’
    Stephanie spoke so close to the end of Jane’s question that it was like one continual sentence, ‘Saturday , Jane . It was a Saturday.’
    Jane enjoyed the stunned look on Turner ’s face.  ‘How about 22 November 1854 , Stephanie?’
    The speed was the same, the answer instantaneous, ‘Wednesday , Jane.’
    Jane grabbed the laptop and brought up her office diary . A few taps brought up September the previous year.  Jane scanned the days, ‘Stephanie , what was I wearing 12 September last year , when you came to the office?’
    ‘You had that cream blouse on , Jane , with jeans and those light blue trainers.  Have you replaced that button on your blouse yet , Jane?’
    Jane smiled, ‘No , I haven’t gotten round to it yet. I think I was wearing light pink lipstick that day Stephanie , wasn’t I?’
    Stephanie shook her head, ‘ You didn’t have any lipstick that day , Jane . You had a lip sore , remember?’
    Jane blushed, ‘ Of course, I remember now.’
    ‘Is this helping , John?’ questioned Stephanie , her expression one of innocence.
    ‘In a roundabout way , ’ assured Jane , stroking her arm, ‘ t hank you for answering my questions.’
    Stephanie gave Jane a fleeting upward glance and a smile that was pure contentment, contentment that she was helping her brother.  ‘Can I go now?’ she asked , her eyes returning to the floor.
    ‘Yes , of course . Thank you , Stephanie.’
    The three watched her move back to the whiteboard, continuing where she left off, shuffling along , flicking quick glances at the information that was spread across its surface like horrific graffiti.
    Turner shook his head in disbelief.  ‘ Okay , okay, I have to admit that was pretty impressive , but…’ he paused, ‘ h ow does that help us track down Cupid?’
    Jane shrugged, ‘I think what John is hoping is that, unlike a computer that needs a code or a piece of software to achieve a certain task, his sister’s gift will be able to filter through the bulk of data we have and come up with something that ties these victims together.  Some kind of thread, no matter how tenuous, that links these people. ’
    ‘You were right , Donald , ’ admitted Turner , his gaze drifting across to the whiteboard, ‘ s he truly is a remarkable woman.  I’ve heard of savants with so called incredible gifts , but…’
    ‘You thought it was hocus pocus.’
    Turner blushed, ‘ No , no , I just thought it… well , I don’t know what I thought , but seeing that up close was incredible.’
    The conversation went on as the three of them sipped coffee and dunked biscuits, each needing to take a few minutes away from the intensity of sifting through the available information that was providing nothing beyond what they