BURNING INTUITION (Intuition Series Book 2)

by Makenzi Fisk

  She’d ended up leaving a message for Zimmerman’s Winnipeg contact but she didn’t have high hopes. There was nothing to go on. The complainant had fled. Lily had probably removed the evidence. What was left? A hysterical phone call from a crazy woman.

  Why was this kid always out of reach? Erin tossed the phone on the sofa. What could she do now? She went to the shed to retrieve the toolkit and the puppy padded along behind her. There was always something around here that needed fixing.

  It was mid-afternoon by the time Allie emerged from her office. She carried the plate from the sandwich Erin had made her for lunch and plunked it onto the kitchen counter. “It turned out to be a good day,” she sighed. “Thanks for lunch. I was so busy that I would have forgotten to eat.”

  Erin picked up the puppy and cradled him in her arms. She led Allie to the sofa and they sat side-by-side. “Will you try something with me?”

  The corners of Allie’s eyes puckered. “Is this like the time you said we should jump into the river holding hands? It’s warm, you said.”

  “Nothing like that.” Erin gripped her hand and held tight.

  Allie’s head snapped back. Her pupils dilated.

  * * *

  The panther paces behind a wall of flames. Head low, ears back, the beast glares through green eyes. Oily black smoke rises.

  Claws tear at my throat.

  Behind the panther, a girl. Skin like alabaster, hair like fire, and eyes like the beast. No, not the same.

  The panther watches a man play with a small girl. His heart is black. The girl is innocent. He laughs only with his mouth.

  Pressure squeezes my chest.

  The beast prowls. Dirty money. Flashing lights. A man in uniform falls like tumbleweed. Oil and gasoline. The blade of a knife. Blood red anger. So much hate.

  I cannot breathe.

  The panther stalks a woman. Dirty buildings all in a row. A flowered basket on a pink bicycle.

  Stop! No!

  * * *

  Allie’s pupils reduced to pinpricks. She ripped her hand from Erin’s and held it to her throat.

  “Did I hurt you?” Erin’s voice caught. What had she done?

  Allie took a deep breath. “I’m okay.”

  The dog stood at attention on Erin’s lap, his tail straight up like a flag on a rural mailbox. He slowly lowered one hind paw until he was on all fours.

  “The dog is acting strange. Is something wrong with him?” Allie asked.

  Erin put the pup on the floor. “As far as I can tell, Clyde’s in good company.” She offered her lopsided grin in apology.

  The dog plunked his rear end directly in front of Allie and whipped his tail back and forth. His brown eyes shone. She inched away.

  “I haven’t seen him act like that before.” Erin drew him onto her lap and petted his ears. “His body went rigid, and he stuck his leg straight out behind him as soon as I held your hand. He looked like a hunting dog indicating prey, only in reverse. You connected with him, didn’t you?”

  Allie breathed out her nostrils. “Yes. It’s hard to describe. It was like driving very fast on a motorcycle with no helmet.”

  “I sure hope you haven’t actually done that.” Erin kicked herself. This was no time for a traffic enforcement lecture. “I wanted to try acting as a buffer between you two.” According to Allie, massive amounts of energy had flowed through them but Erin hadn’t felt a thing. “What did you see?”

  Allie gulped and rubbed her throat. “A black panther. Lily. A girl with red hair and green eyes. A man who wants to hurt a little girl. Money. A policeman falling. The images were mixed up. The panther stalking a woman. A pink bike. Ciara!”

  CHAPTER 23

  I turn over on the park bench and straighten my spine. The hide-a-bed in the motel would have been so much more comfy but I’m locked out. I couldn’t see anything of mine through the window and it wasn’t worth my time to jimmy the lock for an empty room.

  I bet Albert has finally taken off with Barb, poor lovesick old bastard. He’ll be stuck with her for the rest of his life and here I am. Abandoned again. This is the story of my life. Nobody sticks around for me. My mom left. My grandfather left. My father left. Now them.

  Fuck ’em all. I have Nina.

  My knuckles are scraped bloody. When did that happen? Was it when I tried to roll the truck off the bridge? I never figured the wheels would straighten out like that. I barely had time to jump out before it went clean across and smashed into a light post. It’s not what I planned but it was still funny. Almost as funny as watching the cop fall off the side and crash into the ditch. The memory makes me smile.

  When I push my hoodie back from my face, the late afternoon sun burns my eyes like a vampire’s. But I’m not a vampire. I’ve been here since dawn. Where did the day go? The panther in my stomach growls and it foams the back of my throat. I feel bruised from the inside out. My head feels like a friggin’ watermelon. Where the fuck is Nina?

  My stomach turns over again. I need milk. I could drink a gallon of it right now without stopping. I roll off the bench and my legs wobble beneath me. Don’t mistake that for weakness. I’ll cut your eye out if you piss me off. At least that’s what I told the guys who tried to mess with me an hour ago. They took one look at my blade and ran like pussies.

  I stare down the road to Nina’s house. She knows I’m here but she won’t come out. Irritation fizzes in my mouth and it tastes like puke. I need milk now.

  A lady with a baby in a stroller hurries past without looking at me. She knows better. I smooth my hair behind my ears. I can’t do a damn thing about the bloody scrapes right now but there’s one thing I know about this neighborhood. Everyone will pretend not to notice.

  With my back stiff as a soldier, I walk to the QuikStop and right back to the cooler. I take a quart, yes a goddamn quart, of milk from the shelf and crack open the top to take a long swallow. Ooh, there’s chocolate milk. My stomach flops over. I put the first carton back, tear open the chocolate milk and down half of it in a few gulps. It gushes over my chin and down my shirt.

  “You gonna pay for all that?” The lady at the counter doesn’t look much older than me. She won’t even come out from behind the counter to challenge me. I pick a bag of chips off a display, take my milk and give her a zombie stink eye. She takes in my bloody face and knuckles, and her mouth drops open. I walk right out the door when she reaches for the phone.

  My stomach settles by the time I return to the bench. I dump the rest of the chocolate milk and dig into the chips. I’m satisfied and not so pissed with Nina any more. She’s been holed up in her house since I dropped her off but maybe it’s not her fault. What if she can’t get out? It’s time I go see what’s up. I rock to my feet and stumble forward.

  “Bloody hell!” A lady on a bike scrapes her boot on the ground to steer around me. “Mind the road!”

  With my hood up and head down, I didn’t even see her until she almost flattened me. Pedaling like a maniac, she looks like a punk Barbie doll. Tattoo Barbie on a pink hipster bike with a woven basket on the front. When she passes I get a flash of fuzzy memories.

  I’m in the mall parking lot. I jack the Mustang. It’s black as a panther. I smile at the thought, and then frown. The seat’s too far back and I can’t reach the pedals. I’m adjusting it and when I look up, I see the cop’s surprised face. She’s on that same stupid pink bike and she hits the pavement before I hit her. When she goes down there’s a dog in her backpack. That part can’t be real.

  I scratch the scab on my face. Nina thinks I had a concussion. Could any of it be true? The screaming at the back of my brain tells me it was real.

  Fuckin’ Officer Ericsson is in Winnipeg. She was riding that goddamn bike. That flower basket clinches it. There can’t be another one like it in this whole city. Was she following me? The anger in my gut says she was. I need to follow Punk Barbie. I have to find that cop before she finds me.

  Punk Barbie is headed down a route I know and I dog t
rot behind her. There is a shortcut that catches me up when I fall behind. I had a rough night and it’s not long before my ass is wiped.

  There’s my solution. Someone left a BMX bike by a fence and I grab it at a run. I swing one leg over and that’s when I realize that the seat is as low as it can go on the frame. If I sit, my knees would be higher than my chin so I stand to ride. It sucks but it’s better than running. Someone yells in the distance. I pedal fast until I’m out of range.

  I crunch down the gravel alley, searching for Punk Barbie between the houses. After a mile she stops at a restaurant with a neon sign in the window that says VEGAN. That’s nasty. I tried something vegan once and it tasted like grass. Besides, everyone who goes in is a loser. I’m not a loser.

  Punk Barbie doesn’t lock her bike. She rolls it into a rack that looks like rainbow hula-hoops and goes in. I’m tempted to take it just to see the look on her face. Nah, I wouldn’t be caught dead riding that piece of shit. I lean against a brick planter and wait.

  My head is clear like it hasn’t been in days. I’m close. I feel it. Barb’s gone, but now I can find the cop.

  Twenty minutes later she comes out with a cardboard box and tilts it into her stupid basket. Her skirt flutters up when she hops back on and we’re off. A half block behind, I tail her across the bridge and down by the river. She coasts into the driveway of an old house with a busted front step.

  With my hood low, I watch from the other side of the road. Punk Barbie steers around a truck and I’ll be jiggered if it isn’t that bitch cop’s Toyota. I’ve seen her in it a million times back in Morley Falls and the Minnesota license plate is like a friggin’ flag.

  I should run up and stick my knife right between Punk Barbie’s shoulder blades. I drop the BMX and duck across the road behind the truck. What will the cop do when she finds her friend’s corpse?

  The blinds flicker open and I melt into the tire well. Is someone watching? No, it’s only a cat. Like a spider, I inch around and crouch by the bumper. I’m behind her when Punk Barbie steps off her bike and leans it against a garden shed. She slides the box from the basket and takes a step toward the house.

  Now. I can do it now.

  My growl scrapes metal shavings into my belly and my blade flashes open in my hand. My knife and me, we think the same. In my mind, the blade sinks into her neck. I tear it out, and the serrated spine separates flesh from bone. Like in the movies, blood spurts everywhere. The world turns red.

  My hand shakes with excitement. I always wanted to know what that felt like. I tense my muscles and transfer my weight to pounce.

  CHAPTER 24

  Allie’s throat was raw, her skin bruised. She pointed to the window, lifted her dry tongue and choked out one word. “Ciara!” It stuck to the roof of her mouth. Sweat dripped from her brow and burned her eyes.

  Without hesitation, Erin leapt onto the back of the sofa and wrenched open the blinds. Settled on the windowsill, Wrong-Way Rachel squawked in protest. “I don’t see Ciara.”

  On the floor, the puppy nosed Allie’s pant leg. He stood and, like a compass, rotated to face the front of the house. One leg extended awkwardly behind him, and his energy sparkled like sunlight.

  Erin tilted her head and followed his sight line. “It’s just a kid on a bike.” Her eyebrows formed a wavy line and she shrugged.

  Allie shifted away from the dog. Perfectly upright, his tail quivered and he twitched his nose as if scenting the air. The intense pictures she’d been bombarded with had faded when she had dropped Erin’s hand but they increased when he was near. She bent forward and held her knees. Dark after-images swirled.

  Stomach acid rose, burning its way up until she tasted it. She hurried to the washroom and closed the door. Bent over the toilet, she retched but her throat remained dry. She sank to her knees, her cheek against the cool porcelain bowl. She could hug Erin for doing such a good job of cleaning it.

  “Baby! Are you okay?” Erin’s warm energy radiated through the door.

  “Okay,” she croaked. “I’m okay.”

  Erin pushed the door open and knelt beside her, holding her hair back. She touched Allie’s cheek with the back of her hand. “You’re sweating. You’re hot.”

  Images spun in Allie’s mind. Red. Blood. Sharp teeth sink into her friend’s neck.

  “Ciara. Go help Ciara.”

  Erin jumped up and ran.

  * * *

  The back door springs open and I freeze, halfway to my feet. It’s her. The bitch.

  I flatten myself behind the truck. I am invisible. Even the best soldier knows when it’s time to retreat. I shove my blade into the tire’s sidewall, slow and easy so the air leaks quietly. It’s my calling card.

  Like a phantom, I sneak back to the path and reclaim the bike. I spit a stream of saliva across the road when I ride away.

  I found you first, bitch. You are going down.

  * * *

  “Ciara!” Erin tore the door open and faced the yard, the handle from the mop like a sword in her hands.

  Ciara startled backward and the pizza crashed to the ground. “What’s going on?” She picked the box up and eased open the lid. “You broke my pizza.”

  “Who is out here?” Erin circled the truck, mop handle raised to attack.

  Ciara’s grin wilted. She stared at Erin, mouth open. “Is everything all right?”

  “You’re in danger. Did you see anyone?”

  “The only danger I see is a superhero in my driveway.”

  Erin wrenched open the shed to check hiding spots. She vaulted the fence and checked along the property line. There was not a single place of concealment she didn’t search.

  Back in the driveway, she swiveled to focus on the path across the road. When she’d looked out the blinds, there’d been someone on a bike. A kid. She’d assumed it was a boy. Could it have been Lily? A prickle traveled the base of her skull. Did Lily follow Ciara? Was it possible?

  “Is this still about the cat stealing your fish?” Ciara joined Erin at the end of the drive. “Are you pissing about?”

  “This is no joke.” Erin kept her eyes on the shrubs that bordered the path. Was Lily watching?

  “You’re officially freaking me out.”

  “Allie said you were in danger.” Erin backed down the driveway to her truck and stopped. One tire was flat. She slid her fingers over the slit in the sidewall and the hair on the back of her arms prickled. A two-inch blade. Just like when her tires had been slashed in the police parking lot back in Morley Falls.

  She turned and considered Ciara’s pink bicycle. Had Lily noticed the bike when she’d spotted Erin? With its homemade basket, it was unique.

  “See? I’m fine. I don’t wear a helmet, but I don’t know what—”

  “Where were you today?” Erin noticed Ciara’s eyes on the mop handle. She set it against the step. “Please.”

  Ciara counted rings on her fingers. “I was at the university. I worked on my paper in the library. I went to the phone booth and made some calls. After that, I met Mr. Vargas, Raphael, for lunch.” She held a finger to her lips “Don’t tell Allie I’m dating her client, but he’s really hot.” She counted the last ring. “Then I picked up pizza on the way home.”

  “Did you go anywhere else?” There must be something. Erin didn’t believe in mere coincidence.

  “Lunch went a bit longer than I planned. I didn’t get back to the library.” She pursed her lips to suppress a sly grin. “I rode my bike the long way home afterward.”

  “Why did you go the long way?” Erin’s interest piqued.

  “To help you out.”

  “To help me?”

  “You wanted to know where Beverly Hills was. I rode by to get you the address.” Ciara rifled through the contents of her bag and produced a shred of paper. “It’s actually called Northview Estates, and it looks worse than the last time I was out there.”

  That was it! Erin took the paper from her fingers. Lily had been there. She’d spotted the
bike and put two and two together.

  “You were followed home.”

  Ciara’s eyebrows shot up. “Who? Why?”

  Erin sighed. She might as well tell her why she had come to Winnipeg with Allie. This was no laid-back vacation. “There’s a criminal from Morley Falls who moved here.”

  “A criminal!” Ciara scooped up her pizza box and headed into the house.

  Erin followed her. “I came to stop her. You’re involved now, so you need to know.”

  “Her? She? A woman criminal?”

  “A girl.”

  “A child? You’re talking about a child?” One of Ciara’s eyebrows slanted outward.

  “She’s no average child. She’s killed. And she’ll kill again.”

  “A murderess!” Ciara frowned. “There was a boy on a bike. At least I thought it was a boy. He was by the park… and the bridge. Maybe…”

  “She’s sneaky. And dangerous. She’s older than she looks.” Erin remembered the kid across the road. Hunched over, the kid had looked smaller. If he had stood up straight. If there was no hood. Erin closed her eyes with the realization. Lily’s stalking experience was evident.

  “When you met me in the driveway, I thought you were wound a bit too tightly, sweetie.” Ciara put her pizza on the table and eyed Erin. “But if Allie was worried, I’m worried. Allie knows things. I trust her.” She looked around. “Where is she? Does she have a headache?”

  Erin nodded. Ciara certainly knew her well enough. She turned to check on Allie but Ciara shouldered through the door first. They found her on the sofa, arms wrapped around the cat. Rachel’s yellow eyes gloated at Erin from the safety of Allie’s shirtsleeves.

  “I see that you’re fine.” Ciara picked up the dog from his spot by Allie’s feet. Even in Ciara’s arms, the dog watched Allie.

  “I’m glad that you’re okay too.” Allie scooted the cat from her lap and Rachel resumed her vigil at the window. “I sent Erin to help you.”