Seeing Darkness

by Heather Graham

  “I had a great night,” Kylie said, “and came out earlier to find coffee brewed and a breakfast bar. Talked to friends, showered forever. It was really good. You have an amazing water heater for being out here. And... I feel great.”

  “It’s a good feeling when a case comes to a close,” Devin agreed. “Well, part of this case came to a close. But you know you’ve done something that was important, that brings justice and might save other lives, and it feels as if something has been lifted. Anyway, we’re supposed to meet in town for lunch.”

  “I know...” Kylie patted her shoulder bag. “And I’m all set.”

  Devin reached for her own bag, and Poe let out a squawk of protest. “Oh, we’ll be back!” Devin told the bird. “Auntie Mina is here somewhere. You’ll be fine!”

  “Bye, Poe,” Kylie said, touching the bird’s cage. The raven did seem to be a great pet—truly quite a character. She followed Devin as she set the alarm and they headed out the door.

  “I hear you’ll be heading back to New York, starting a new job on Monday,” Devin said.

  “It’s a great job,” Kylie said. “I love New York City. Of course, I love this place, too, and Boston and all. But I’ve always loved what I do.” She hesitated. “Heading back into that job was the most important thing in the world to me until last Friday.”

  “You can’t give up what you love. That’s giving up yourself,” Devin told her.

  They slid into the car, and Kylie sighed. “I know.”

  “And I know Jon would never ask you to.”

  “I know that, too. And I would never ask him not to do what he does.”

  “Also, this case isn’t really over.”

  “Because Westerly isn’t the killer Jon came here to find,” Kylie said.

  Devin glanced at Kylie and smiled. “But I believe Jon plans on taking the weekend to go into New York with you. Rocky and I will stay here, Jackson will head back to headquarters for now, and...we’ll keep at it. This man—or woman—will kill again.”

  “I could call Dr. Sayers,” Kylie said.

  “Pardon?”

  “He’s got some kind of talent. I saw a murder occurring, and then Jackson saw the cemetery where I’d be attacked. He either saw it as a suggestion or...saw into the future? I don’t know how but—”

  “You don’t go anywhere alone.”

  “Oh, no, I wouldn’t think of it. I’ll bring Jon. He came with me when we went back to Dr. Sayers before.”

  “Good,” Devin said determinedly. She fell silent until they pulled into the municipal lot on Essex Street and parked. Then she looked at Kylie and said, “I know your job is important to you, but for the time being, well, don’t hang around alone at night. Be with people.”

  “My building has a doorman. You have to show ID to enter,” Kylie assured her. “And I will leave work with other employees, I promise. I won’t be alone.” She smiled. “It’s really not all that easy to be alone with millions of people.”

  Devin cast her head to the side doubtfully, arching a brow.

  “I guess we can be alone anywhere,” Kylie said. “But I promise you, I will be alert and aware and pay grave attention to everything around me.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s head to Jon’s office.”

  The streets were busy—tourists itching to get started on a long weekend had arrived. Some of the snatches of conversation Kylie and Devin heard had to do with how appalling it was that a man like Michael Westerly could have proven to be such a wretched monster.

  Nearby, a mother grabbed her child’s hand, begging her husband to head to the green so that he could just run for a bit.

  They were almost at the door of Jon’s office when Kylie’s phone rang. She stopped walking, and Devin looked back at her.

  “It’s Dr. Sayers,” Kylie said. “I’ll be right in. I’m going to try to set something up, and yes, I swear I’ll make Jon come, I’ll make you all come to his office with me.”

  Devin nodded and stepped into the office.

  “Dr. Sayers,” Kylie said. “It’s good to hear from you. I want to come in for another regression.”

  “That’s great. I’m surprised, though. I heard they arrested Michael Westerly yesterday, that he and his wife were killers. I was calling to say goodbye and to see if you planned on being at the Cauldron any time before you left,” he went on. “I was in late last night and Matt was telling me something about a letter and a grave he found that you might want to hear about. But if you want a regression, that’s great—absolutely great.”

  “I was wondering if I could set up a time with you. Possibly tomorrow morning?”

  “Oh, Kylie. You won’t be able to make that.”

  As he spoke, she felt the knife, pressing hard into her back, nearly enough to pierce her flesh. She heard his voice, over the phone and at her ear.

  At first, she was in disbelief.

  But of course. She’d been with him when Annie had been killed, and he had been the one to hypnotize Jackson as well. Jackson hadn’t given away a place, he had just said green and blue, but that didn’t matter because they’d been trapping Westerly...

  Not the serial killer.

  Dr. Sayers pressed the knife closer. One little move on his part...

  She was right in front of the office where Jon, Jackson, and Rocky were working; they’d be looking for her any second. “If you’re going to stab me, you should do it right here, in front of witnesses.”

  “That wouldn’t be right. You’re going to walk to the cemetery.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because you see that cute little kid there? He must be about four. I’ll slice his throat right in front of his parents. That child could die.”

  She saw the little boy the mom had wanted to take to run around Salem Common, a large grassy area nearby. They hadn’t left yet, and the mom was being hard-pressed to keep up with the boy.

  “It will be on you,” Dr. Sayers whispered.

  “No, it will be on you.”

  “But will you risk it?”

  Only idiots walked away with a killer. But he would kill her here—or worse, kill her and the boy.

  “Start walking, Kylie. It’s really so beautiful, so poetic, so historic,” Dr. Sayers said. “And think, it’s you. You could live a dozen lives, more beautiful lives... I could even speak with you again, from the other side, of course.”

  Such a little distance. A few blocks. The little boy would be far enough away, and there might be a way to get far enough from Dr. Sayers. He wasn’t wielding a gun; he had a knife.

  They started to walk.

  She swore inwardly. The kid and his parents were right beside them. It seemed they were heading to the wax museum. They’d be with them all the way past the cemetery.

  “I’m walking,” Kylie said, aware that Dr. Sayers laughed softly, watching the little boy. “And I’m so curious... I mean, you could get away with all this. Maybe they’ll find doubt about Michael Westerly. He was an amazing copycat.”

  “He has power. And his wife has a mouth.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I could always learn anything I wanted from her, just hanging out at the Cauldron. I made a point of us getting friendly and even inwardly laughed myself through a few therapy sessions with her. Socially, professionally, she talked only about her husband. She talked about her husband’s hard stance on crime and how he had access to many police reports. I have to say, though, you did absolutely astound me. I have never seen anyone like you. And that will make this extra special.”

  “Because I’m not an easy victim, like those other poor women?” Kylie asked.

  They passed the Peabody Essex Museum. They were so close to the cemetery.

  “You’re special. I may get some of that special from you!”

  “You’ll be caught. It’s a bus
y day. People will see you.”

  “Oh, I judge my moment and my place. I’ll just walk away, right down the street and around the corner to my office. Thank you for worrying about me, though.”

  They’d reached the cemetery. Others even came through the gate with them. People were milling about, but Sayers urged her toward the back of the cemetery while others were busy looking at the Mayflower grave or others of historic note.

  “You’re going to get caught,” Kylie told him again.

  “Like I told you, thank you for worrying. And you’re right, I might get caught. But then, Westerly won’t be able to steal the credit for what I did. This is all his fault, you know. He had the bloody nerve to kill here—in Salem! Oh, those foolish idiots. Sandra, so mean and jealous at heart. I saw enough of her, you know. She had a stone-cold heart. She couldn’t have cared less if he slept with any woman out there, she just couldn’t see her future ruined.

  “Anyway, I’m losing myself here. I’m sorry to make you pay, but you must. Everything turned upside down here because of you. You just had to see that murder as it was happening. I’m still amazed how that happened. That bloody copycat. How dare he? How dare he imitate me, and in my own town? Atrocious. I’d rid the world of him, if I had half a chance. Pity I can’t stab him to death! I would have done it if I got a chance—”

  They were moving farther and farther back through the graveyard. She could scream...get cut to ribbons, but possibly survive. The little boy was at long last gone.

  She jerked from Dr. Sayers, spinning to face him, just as they neared the far wall. Right where she had been with Matt, just days ago.

  She smelled the earth of the cemetery, saw the blue of the sky. Saw the man before her, lifting the knife, ready to slit her throat.

  And then, something like a sledgehammer slammed into him. He let out a shocked croak, and the knife went flying, its razor-honed edge glinting as it soared away. In that second, time seemed to stand still, and the world was in slow motion.

  Then she heard the thud near her; Dr. Sayers was on the ground.

  Jon was on top of him and Rocky and Jackson were rushing up, ready to grab the doctor. Then Jon got up quickly, reaching for Kylie and pulling her close.

  For a moment, he just held her. They were both aware of Dr. Sayers screaming they’d ruined history; how poetic and wonderfully brilliant it would have been for his last kill to have been in this cemetery. Kylie, the witness against one killer, bleeding into the grave of another.

  She didn’t know how long she and Jon stood there; she was trembling in his arms. It was a while.

  Then he lifted her chin.

  “I don’t think we should go back for that regression I heard you were suggesting,” he said.

  She smiled and shook her head. “No. No more regressions,” she agreed.

  Epilogue

  Corrine’s wedding reception was on a rooftop in midtown, and the weather had held perfectly for it. Kylie, Jenny, and Nancy made gorgeous bridesmaids.

  Jenny was the one to catch the bouquet, but Jon knew Kylie hadn’t really tried. It was rather funny, he thought, that neither of them had tried. Corrine’s new husband had managed to throw her garter over his head, where it landed directly on Jon.

  The wedding was a good occasion. At one point in the evening, he found himself alone at the table with Corrine, Nancy, and Jenny. They were staring at him, as if demanding his intentions. It felt like an interrogation.

  “Kylie told us she’s moving,” Corrine said.

  “To be with you,” Jenny added.

  “And you’re fine—a lovely man, truly,” Nancy added quickly. “But...”

  He leaned back, smiling. “Yes, we talked it through. Apparently, there was a young man who was neck and neck with Kylie for her job, and he still wanted it. All is copacetic there.”

  “But what will she do? Kylie’s not the type to just sit home and grow daisies,” Corrine said, a beautiful bride—a perfect mother hen.

  “Well, here’s the thing,” Jon began. “Our boss is an amazing human being. He’s already opened a historic theater. Now he’s doing a museum on the history of Washington and the United States. None of us even knew about it until a week or so ago, and he might have been waiting to find someone like Kylie. She will not be growing daisies or cleaning house—well, she will be cleaning house, but so will I, we’re both pretty good at it—but she’ll be doing what she loves. She’ll be very busy. She’s also decided she wants to take self-defense classes and I don’t even know what all else yet. I promise you, Kylie will remain her own woman.”

  Across the patio, he saw that Kylie had paused while chatting with Corrine’s father and was watching them. A bit worriedly, perhaps. She excused herself and walked back toward the table.

  “Well, all right, then,” Corrine said. “You have our blessing!”

  The girls rose as Kylie reached them.

  They nodded to her and walked right on by. Kylie arched her brows at her friends, then sat next to Jon, taking his hand. “And that was...?”

  He laughed. “A blessing!”

  She smiled and slipped into his arms. “I’ve made my decision, you know.”

  He nodded and absently fingered the white garter that lay on the table. “Think this means something?” he asked her.

  “If that’s a proposal, it’s lame.”

  “Oh, I thought this meant you had to ask me.”

  “Really?”

  “We could ask each other,” he suggested.

  She smiled, stroking his chin. “I’m not a diamond girl—I don’t like expensive gifts. I like little gestures. Or maybe an incredible antique book.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Did you ask?”

  “I did.”

  “Then we need to decide how and when, what kind of a wedding... Maybe just a charming little chapel somewhere. But until then...”

  Her voice trailed. He saw her eyes and the laughter in them. And the love and commitment.

  “Until then?” he prompted.

  “The reception is dying down. I think we should run away and enjoy our last days of living in wickedly wonderful sin.”

  “Are you asking me?”

  “I am.”

  He stood and drew her to her feet and into his arms. “Then we need to see just how quickly we can say our goodbyes.”

  It was amazing just how quickly they could.

  * * *

  Keep reading for an exclusive preview of the next thrilling story in the

  KREWE OF HUNTERS series,

  only from New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham.

  When Raina Hamish tries on a dress in a Miami boutique, she has a terrifyingly accurate premonition of a murdered corpse in the murky shadows of the Everglades. Her vision is the FBI’s best lead on a serial killer, and so she teams up with Special Agent Axel Tiger. Raina may be able to help save a life—but it puts her directly in the crosshairs of a killer who is closer than they would ever suspect.

  DEADLY TOUCH

  Available July 21, 2020, from MIRA Books.

  Deadly Touch

  by Heather Graham

  Prologue

  Thirteen years ago

  “Imagine, if you will! There are those who fear the creatures of our great Everglades—not a swamp—but a river of grass, one that houses alligators and in certain places crocodiles, as well. Though, frankly,” the storyteller said, pausing to smile, “the true plague we endure can most often be mammoth mosquitoes. Some think the skunk ape is real. But, my dear friends, I have a tale to tell you that will chill your blood, and that is of the cursed pirates who roam the Everglades. Watch for the sails of their lost ship upon this river of grass for they are doomed to sail it forever!”

  Raina found herself feeling as if her blood was somehow chilling even in the a
lmost-warmth of the night. In a few days it would be spring, but a late storm had settled over the north of the country, and here, in the very southern end of the mainland of South Florida, the temperature had dipped to a cool fifty degrees that night. Maybe that was causing the chills?

  But the storyteller was good. He was young—maybe eighteen or so. He was extremely good-looking with fantastic cheekbones common in both the Miccosukee and Seminole tribes of Florida, startling gold-green eyes far more common in someone of Northern European descent and a fine smile that wrapped it all up with a rugged charm. But then, she was just going on fourteen. She and her girlfriends were here on a field trip to camp out for a night in the Everglades and had whispered about him and giggled, thinking he was pretty hot. One of the older men—Jeremy Gray, a superfriendly and informative member of the Miccosukee tribe—had given a speech on the effects of people thinking they could “humanely” release pythons and boas in the Everglades and how those predators threatened the natural flow of life there. The danger being that many native species might soon be wiped out.

  Raina had been excited about their field trip from the beginning. Yes, she was afraid of killer creatures and not at all fond of mosquitoes, but she had always loved the region, so wild with beautiful birds and a haunting, nostalgic beauty when sunset came.

  She loved all of it.

  And especially this storyteller. His name was Axel Tiger—a mixture of ethnicity as intriguing as his appearance. She wasn’t sure if he was Miccosukee or Seminole, since both tribes were here to talk about the Everglades and their culture, history and future.

  Like the other girls, she just knew that he was hot.

  “The pirates were a bloodthirsty crew believed to have been trolling these waters in the late 1600s and into the early years of the 1700s. When a British merchantman came into their sights, they chased it down the coast and through the keys and close to the tip of the mainland where our great sea of grass meets with the bay. They gave no quarter. Hey, they were angry! They had to chase the ship for days! And to that end, they decided the entire crew—left alive after the fierce battle to take her—would walk the plank. The pirate captain especially hated the merchantman captain. The young captain’s wife was aboard, and as he forced her to watch her husband walk the plank—chained at his wrists lest he somehow swim to shore—she looked up to the heavens and cried out, ‘Curse these bloody pirates! Dear Lord above, curse these brutal creatures until the end of time!’”