When the phone rang, Julian answered it, listening silently to Allison. After a moment, he covered the receiver and said, "Somebody wants to see you."
"Huh?" Mooney gave him a blank look.
"Our neighbor psychic is right outside, and he wants to talk to you."
"Yeah, right, Anders. You ain't dodging. Besides, if I were you, I'd listen to the guy. He's helped once or twice and been right."
"He hasn't helped me any." Sighing, he uncovered the receiver and said, "Send him back, Allison."
A moment later, the door opened and one of the officers held it for Richie. "Mr. England to see you, Detective."
Julian's features smoothed into an imperturbable mask as he nodded. "Come in, Mr. England, and take a seat."
Reaching for his coffee cup, Julian downed a healthy swallow as Mooney smirked at him. When Mooney turned to speak to the psychic, he asked, "What you got for us this time, England?"
"Stanton Park," Richie said as he sat down in the uncomfortable leather-covered chair in front of the desk. "That's where you'll find the next one, the next Vivisectionist victim. I've had visions all morning, since about four."
"Visions?" Julian wondered what this odd kid was doing in his office. He gauged him to be about his brother's age and most likely with similar interests. Especially since they seem to favor the same notion of dressing in unrelieved black, and not in a business suit.
"Anything else, England?" Mooney seemed to have no problem taking him seriously.
"Yes, visions," Richie shot back at him, rolling his eyes. "Good afternoon, Detective Mooney. As for when, the most I've been able to detect," he said, casting a sideways glare at Julian, "on a Friday, possibly this Friday. Dark."
A brow rose in amusement when Julian noticed Richie's bristling. Sudden pain jolted through Julian's leg as Mooney's foot connected with the front of his ankle. Julian didn't show by a wince that the hit had fucking hurt.
Mooney smiled back at Richie. "We'll see if we can round-up a bit of extra help. Anything in the visions to tell what area of the park? SP is a large park."
"I haven't been to Stanton since Samhain, but I think near the clump of trees behind the amphitheater. She'll be completely out in the open. It's always dark, maybe right before dawn if I'm judging right."
Turning in his seat, Julian moved his legs out of Mooney's range. His expression showed nothing but mild interest in what Richie had to say. "We appreciate the information, Mr. England."
Mooney busied himself hastily writing what Richie said in his notebook. "Yeah thanks, England. If you get any more just let us know."
"No problem." Richie stood and, just before walking out the door, turned to Julian. "That's a pretty nasty bruise on your right ankle, Detective Anders." Then he walked out, closing the door behind him.
Mooney looked startled before he turned back to Julian. Once the door was closed, he said, "So, let's see the leg."
With a roll of his eyes, Julian ignored the request. "It would be a very good assumption since you kicked me that I would probably have one." He gave Mooney an irritated look. "Do you think the captain is really going to pay overtime for anybody to hang around SP waiting for a body to show up? And on a lead from a psychic?"
"It's worth a shot. If the kid is right, we'd be able to catch the bastard."
"And if he's wrong, the captain would have our heads for being idiots. Psychic hunches are not adequate enough leads to cover that kind of overtime."
"I think you're wrong on this, Anders. I've worked with that kid before. You didn't see what I saw. And you know what else? I don't think he saw me kick you. From where he was sitting he couldn't have seen that close to the floor. Not unless he can see through wood."
"He's a psychic. I'm sure he can see through anything."
Mooney left the room, slamming the door behind him.
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