Night Vision

by Maggie Shayne

  “I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you get yourself hurt or killed trying to break some fictional curse, much less save my life. I’m a cop, Megan.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t be.”

  He met her eyes, shook his head firmly. “Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t ruin this by making it about my job. It’s not what I do. It’s who I am.”

  She nodded gently. Getting him to give up his career was not the right approach, she decided. Especially not if it broke the spell between them. “I won’t suggest it again,” she promised.

  “Good.” He smiled, letting it go, set her on her feet, and reached past her to turn on the shower.

  By midmorning, Megan was in Sam’s car again, munching on a cheese Danish and sipping coffee from a Styrofoam cup, actively resisting the urge to talk more about what was going on between them, and where it could be going. She knew he didn’t want to. She knew that her uncertainty about their future together, or lack thereof, was nothing compared to his uncertainty about his own future. He wasn’t even sure he would be around next week, much less whether he would still want her by then. Besides, she wasn’t naive enough to think that one night with her would alter his One-Night Sam persona. Though she liked to think it had. He’d silenced her with a kiss when she had brought it up before, and while she loved his methods, she wondered about his motives.

  He stopped at a traffic light and looked at her. “What are you thinking about?”

  “About Linda Keller,” she lied. “I’m not sure what to say to someone who’s been through what she has. Why, what were you thinking about?”

  “I was thinking about whether you were going to come home with me again tonight.”

  She smiled at him, just a little. “Would that make me your first two-night stand?”

  He looked at her steadily for a long moment, as if considering his reply. Finally, he said, “You’re more than that to me, Megan. Whatever happens, I want to make sure you know that.”

  His words set her heart racing, both in delight that he seemed to be telling her she meant something to him, and in fear that he was expecting the worst. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, Sam.”

  A horn blew. The light had turned green. He didn’t reply, just put the car back into motion.

  When they arrived at the hospital, Megan’s earlier lie became true. She honestly didn’t know what to say to the young woman. But as it turned out, she didn’t have to know.

  When Megan walked into the hospital room, she was stunned by the bruises on Linda’s pretty face. They hadn’t been so colorful last night. Now they were vivid, deep purple, dark blue, nearly black in places. Her shock quickly turned to relief, though, when Linda smiled at her. She was sitting up, the bed in an upright position, one eye still swollen shut, but the other clear and brighter than before. She held out a hand to Megan.

  “I’m so glad you came,” she said.

  Megan’s tension faded instantly, and she went to Linda, took her hand, felt only genuine warmth. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “I’m going to be fine.” She looked down at her hands. “I’ve only just begun to realize how lucky I am. If this is the same man who killed all those others–” Then she shook herself and snapped her head up again. “But what about you? Are you all right?”

  “Of course I am. I’m not the one who was attacked.” Megan sat down in the chair beside the bed.

  “No. But... something happened to you out there. When I took your hand, I felt it. Like a jolt zapping from my hand to yours. I know you felt it, too. It knocked you flat on your back.”

  Megan glanced at Sam, who stood near the door. He gave her a nod, silently encouraging her to go on, to tell the girl the truth if she felt she wanted to. She took strength from his presence, and the look in his eyes, a look that could almost have been described as loving, though she told herself to stop thinking things like that. Then she told herself it was too late.

  Megan said, “Linda, sometimes I get...visions.”

  “You’re psychic?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  “So...when I took your hand in the park, you had a vision?” Meg nodded, and Linda went on. “Wow. That’s what knocked you flat? What did you see?”

  “I saw what happened to you. Felt it, all of it, as if it was happening to me. Even down to you worrying about your cat.”

  The girl frowned at her, studying her seriously.

  “The vision was so fast and so unexpected...I didn’t see anything that could help us identify the man.”

  “If you were only seeing what I saw, then that makes sense,” Linda said. “I didn’t either.”

  “But it was the same for you, sudden, unexpected. And you were terrified.”

  Linda nodded, averting her face, failing to suppress a shiver. “We don’t have to talk about this now if you don’t want to,” Megan said.

  The girl lifted her eyes again. “It sounds as if you think there’s something more you can do.”

  “There might be. I was thinking if I could hold your hand, and you could try to remember what happened, this time seeing it from a safe place, where you know he can’t touch you, between the two of us, maybe there's something we can learn. Something that can help the police catch him.”

  “Before he does this to someone else. Someone who might not be lucky enough to have you two close by to save her.”

  Megan nodded. “Yes. Yes, exactly that. I know it won’t be easy, and that you’d probably rather not think about it at all, but–”

  “I can’t stop thinking about it. At least this way I can put those thoughts to good use, huh?”

  “Maybe.”

  She nodded again. “What do I have to do?”

  Megan got up onto the edge of the girl’s bed, clasped both her hands between both of hers. “We need to go back there, together. In your mind. You talk me through it, everything that happened, and remember it as you do. I’ll do the rest.”

  The younger woman closed her eyes as if searching inwardly for strength. “All right. All right.” She took a breath and began, her voice shaky, but determined. “I was running....”

  And then Megan was there. Side by side, she and Linda Keller were running along one of the winding paths through the town park. Megan felt the night breeze on her face, the cool air in her lungs, the heat of her body, her own steady footfalls and the other girl’s hand in hers.

  “Remember, we’re safe. This is over, in the past. Nothing can happen to us.”

  “I know. It’s still so scary.” The girl’s steps slowed, and she came to a stop. “It’s up there, right around that bend. He must be hiding behind that tree, there.”

  Megan strained her eyes, but couldn’t see any sign of anyone. The girl squeezed her hand. “Okay, here we go.” And she began running again. They approached the bend, and her grip grew tighter. They started around it, and then Megan felt the powerful arm snap around her neck, jerk her backward to the ground.

  “It’s not real,” she said, though her voice was strained. She was on her back now, and the man was straddling her. His weight on her made it almost impossible to breathe. Beyond the hulking form she saw Linda standing there, a petrified onlooker, still clutching Megan’s hand. When the rain of blows fell, Megan’s head snapped with every one and pain shot through her, and she heard the girl begin to cry.

  “Megan, stop, it’s enough!”

  That was Sam’s voice, and it was rough with emotion.

  “It’s all right. It’s okay,” she managed. “Slow it down, Linda. Remember it as if in slow motion.”

  “I’ll try.”

  And the scene playing out slowed. Megan was able to look up at the dark shape that loomed over her. To see every blow coming at her before feeling its impact. He was bigger than Sam, heavier. She couldn’t see his face, only the black ski cap that covered it. The blows came slowly, but she still felt the pain of them. She fought to stay as calm and as cold as ice, even when she felt his hands tearing at her
clothes.

  She was seeing through only one eye now, as he jammed a hand down her pants, and she gripped his wrist with one hand, just as Linda had, to stop him, touching not the glove he wore, but the skin above it.

  Then Sam was there, shouting, and the man tore himself off her and ran.

  Sam was on the floor beside Megan, and so was Linda Keller. They’d started out on the bed. Linda had been describing everything that had happened, while holding Meg’s hand, but Megan seemed to be the one living it. When Linda got to the point where the man grabbed her from behind, Meg had come off the bed as if jerked from behind herself, hitting the floor back-first. Linda came off the bed with her, grappling to grab hold of her hand again, and Sam rushed to Meg’s side, terrified of what he was seeing. Meg jerked her arms up over her face as if warding off blows, and then one hand shot down to clutch at something–at nothing. Just air.

  “Megan, honey, come on, it’s enough. You’re killing yourself with this.” He gripped her shoulders, shook them gently. “Meg, I mean it. It’s enough, come back!”

  Her eyes opened slowly. Sam was shocked to see a trickle of blood coming from her nostril. “What the hell?”

  She touched the blood, looked at it on her fingertips. “Your body believes what your mind tells it,” she whispered. She took a few breaths, seemed to try to shake off the vision. “Mine thinks it just took a beating. This is a little more realism than I expected, but...” He helped her sit up, realized he was shaking as bad as she was. It was as if he’d just witnessed an assault on her by some invisible force. And he realized she was hurting as if that was exactly what had happened. She held a hand to her jaw as he lifted her to her feet, then helped her to the chair. She sank into it.

  Linda handed him a box of tissues, then got back up onto her bed. “Megan, did it work? Did you see him?”

  Megan lifted her head, clutching a tissue to her nose, while Sam leaned over her, stroking her hair and back and shoulders. It tore him apart to see her going through all of this. He hated it.

  “No,” Megan said. “But I felt him. You touched him, grabbed his wrist to stop him from groping you. And I did, too. And I felt him.”

  Linda frowned, looking at Sam. “I don’t understand.”

  “Neither do I,” Sam said. “There was no skin under her nails, Meg.” He looked at Meg, but she said nothing. “I’m sorry we put you through all that, Linda,” he said, without taking his eyes from Megan. “I really think I should get her home.”

  “Me, too,” Linda said.

  “Will you be okay?” Sam asked, forcing himself to look at Linda.

  She nodded. “They’re letting me go home today.”

  Meg came out of her thoughts and smiled a little. “Roderick will be so glad to see you.”

  “I know. I miss him.” Linda shifted her eyes to Sam’s again. “Will I be safe there?”

  He nodded. “We’ll have a car watching the place, and we'll set you up with a panic button. You hit it, and officers will be there within seconds.”

  She nodded. “Thank you again.” Then she looked at Meg. “I can’t believe you put yourself through that once, much less twice. Will she be okay, Detective Sheridan?”

  “I’ll make sure of it.” Sam bent to help Megan up, but she shook her head. “I can walk. You'll make them want to check me in.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded, so he held her close, supporting her without being too obvious about it as they walked slowly out of the room. And then Meg said, “She called you Detective Sheridan. I thought it was ‘Officer.’”

  He closed his eyes. “It’s Detective.”

  “I didn’t think detectives routinely worked traffic,” she said.

  “They don’t.” He sighed, wishing this had come at a better time. “Meg, I’m not going to lie to you. The speed trap was a setup. No one believed you knew the things you knew about that last victim through ESP. I was assigned to get to know you, try to find out what was really going on.”

  She looked as hurt by that revelation as she had been by the attack she’d just experienced. God, she was barely holding her own weight. He felt like the meanest bastard in the world as she stared up at him.

  “That’s what you were keeping from me.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I believe you now. I do.”

  “Do you? Or is that just another part of your cover story?” She sighed, her eyes flooding. “And last night? Was that part of your investigation, too?”

  “Meg–”

  “Oh, God,” she whispered, backing away from him. “I thought it was real.”

  “Sam, I need a word.” Chief Skinner was in the hospital corridor, waiting for Sam when they came out of Linda Keller’s hospital room, demanding his attention.

  Sam gave Megan’s hand a squeeze. It was real, he thought, and he hoped to God she could see his message in his eyes, even though he couldn’t say it out loud, not with the chief standing right at his shoulder. He willed her to see the truth in his eyes. But she only kept backing away, shaking her head from side to side. And then she turned and walked briskly to the elevators.

  Chapter 10

  Sam was surprised she made it to the elevator without collapsing, and only the chief’s firm grip on his shoulder kept him from going after her.

  “Hell,” the chief said. “What happened to her?”

  Not sure how to answer without losing credibility with the man whose respect he valued above all others, he said, “She took a little fall, that’s all. I need to go after her, Chief.”

  The chief nodded. “Yeah, I know you do. Thirty seconds, okay?” Sam sent a worried look toward the now closed elevator doors. “So, are you getting anything out of her?”

  “No.” He took a step toward the elevator.

  The chief put himself right in Sam’s path, blocking it. “Then she hasn’t come up with anything on the killer?”

  “No, nothing yet.” It was all he could do not to shove the man aside.

  “We didn’t find any prints at her house,” Ed Skinner said, shaking his head with regret. “Are you sure he was even there, Sam? She’s the only one who saw him. For all we know she could have smashed that window in herself, just as an excuse to make you come running.”

  Sam frowned deeply, finally focusing on the chief. “She’s not the kind of woman who’d do something like that. You don’t know her, Chief.”

  “You don’t know her either, Sam. You only met her a few days ago. She probably doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who’d hang around with a serial killer either. But she must be, or she wouldn’t know what she knows.”

  “Chief–Ed, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but what if she really does have some kind of... ability? What if she’s telling the truth about how she knew where that last body was found?”

  “I don’t buy it,” he said.

  “Apparently, the killer does. I think that’s who was at her house last night. I really do.”

  “What makes you think so?”

  Sam shook his head. “Instinct. And I know she hasn’t come up with anything solid yet. Chief, but I think she’s close. I think she might just come up with what we need to break this case.”

  “How? She know what the guy looks like?”

  “No. She said she knows what he feels like, though.”

  “Feels like? I don’t get it.”

  Just then, the elevator doors opened, and Megan came through them and walked up to stand beside Sam. “I was going to wait in the car, but I forgot the keys,” she said.

  She didn’t look good, worse than she had a moment ago, if that was possible. She was pale and trembling. He reached into his pocket for the keys even as it occurred to him that wasn’t why she’d come back. She’d come back because she was hurting bad, and because she needed him.

  “Hell, Meg, come here.” Sam slid his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. “I gotta get her out of here, Chief.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, you go on,” he said. He patted her should
er in a fatherly way. “You feel better, Ms. Rose.”

  She lifted her head slowly, her eyes finding the chief’s, just before Sam helped her back into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, she slumped in Sam’s arms and passed out cold.

  He scooped her up, swearing, thought he ought to take her right back in and hand her over to the nearest nurse. But she wasn’t suffering from anything physical, he knew that. Not really. She wanted to get out of there, and he was compelled to give her what she wanted. He knew she would be all right in a few minutes. So he ignored his practical mind and heeded his instincts, carrying her out of the elevator when it stopped on the ground level, and then out to his car. He lowered her onto the passenger seat, then knelt in the open doorway, pressing his hands to her face.

  “Megan? Come on, are you okay?”

  She blinked her eyes slowly at him. “No. Far from it.” She suddenly looked back toward the hospital, as if frightened, and he followed her gaze, only to see his boss, the chief, leaving through the same doors they’d just exited, heading for his car in some other part of the lot.

  “Get me out of here, Sam,” she whispered.

  “Okay. All right.” God, they had to talk. He had to explain himself to her, but he’d like her at least coherent when he did. And he wasn’t even entirely sure just what it was he was going to say. “Do you want to go back to my place or to yours?”

  She stared into his eyes. “I need to see your grandmother.”

  Sam was tempted to check her for a fever, or ask how many fingers as he held a couple up in front of her. “I’m not following.”

  “Neither am I.”

  “You know something. Or you think you do. What is it, Megan?”

  She swallowed hard, nodded slowly. “Chief Skinner,” she began. And as if saying his name invoked him somehow, the chief’s car passed by on its way out of the parking lot, and Sam saw him staring at the two of them.

  “What about him?” Sam asked as he waved at his trusted friend.