Together in Darkness

by Sloan McBride

  Nick filled her cup with more water. “All I know is that when I got here a couple of days ago, he was sitting beside your bed, looking real distraught. He came in yesterday giving me this story that he went to Salem to find a psychic and she told him about this vampiric aura stuff."

  Allison closed her eyes. What did this mean? Did he believe her now? Was he going to let her be involved in the investigation again? She hoped so because nothing much had changed. There were still other victims out there who would die if the killer wasn't stopped soon.

  "Nick, how's Lucy?” she whispered.

  "Fine. She's staying with some friends in Lowell. She had some kind of tournament or something."

  "I don't suppose she asked after me."

  "No, but she listened when I told her about what you were doing."

  "Hmmph."

  He chuckled. “She makes that same face while she's listening. I wish you two would get past this. It's been long enough."

  "Too long."

  "Maybe when this is over we can all have dinner."

  "Yeah, when this is done.” What shape would she be in, though?

  Nick went to stretch his legs and get something to eat.

  There were too many variables. The doctor was right, she needed to get her strength back. “I need to get out of here."

  "You need to prepare."

  There near the window stood Yanni. “You need to be stronger and more aware. This should not have happened. Even I could not reach you."

  Allison drank some more water.

  "He is strong and his anger gives him more power. You have been trying to reason with him. You are not fighting."

  "Fighting what? An unknown, unseen enemy."

  "Fighting evil.” Yanni moved closer. “Do not be deceived by his soft tones and sweet poetry. He is evil and must be destroyed."

  "Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

  "It is what must be done."

  Nick walked back into her room. “Who were you talking to?"

  Allison's head thumped back to the pillow, she winced. “Yanni, but she poofed away again."

  * * * *

  "Hey, Bill,” Jake said as he threw the plastic bag containing the necklace at him. “Have this run for prints."

  The other man caught the bag. “What is it?"

  "Allison's locket."

  "A locket? Why am I fingerprinting it?"

  "I found it in Allison's hospital room, in the wall."

  Now a crowd gathered. “Explain.” Carmichael said.

  Jake sighed. “I obtained some information that the UNSUB could use an object to inflict this comatose state, so I went to the hospital and started searching Ms. Brody's room. After a diligent search, and using my handy dandy pocket knife, I found the baggie behind the plastic panel in the wall where they had some of the machines plugged in."

  "Good job, Jake. Do you think we'll find the UNSUB's prints?"

  Jake glanced in Lancaster's direction. “No."

  A collective sigh rang through the room. “Well, you might as well go ahead and run the necklace and baggie for prints Detective,” Peter Carmichael said.

  Everyone went back to reworking all the information they had collected so far. “Margo, I'd like you to go back to the first victim and start sifting through all the information you can find. I feel our best chance of catching this guy lies somewhere in that first crime."

  The story had been run through the ringer with the various news media. Amazingly, the Chief had put a good slant on the rumors and massive panic had been averted. It gave them a small reprieve before the shit hit the fan. And it would.

  Jake had skipped lunch and declined dinner. He decided that he needed a shower. For no reason in particular other than to release some of the tension that seized his muscles, so he headed to The Stern Trawler and his room. He'd walked only a short way when a tingle ran up his spine. He turned to see the UNSUB in a small alleyway. Jake took off like a shot, running full throttle. He leaped over a small white picket fence and without breaking speed, bounced off a wall and tore down the alley through yards, yelling when a door flew open and almost whacked him in the face.

  He'd lost sight of his prey after a couple of miles and stopped, bending his knees and bowing his head to catch his breath. He sat down on the road without care of traffic and panted until his heart rate slowed. “Damn."

  After several minutes Jake stood, pulled his pants leg down, and brushed off his clothes. “Shit,” he said when his hand came into contact with a gash on his leg that must have happened when he hit the trash can in his mad dash through the alley. He let out a string of curses not only because his leg hurt like hell, but because he hadn't caught the bastard.

  His cell rang. “Austin."

  "Where are you, Jake?"

  "Hi, Bill. I'm taking a nice evening stroll, why?"

  "I just got a phone call from Nick Brody."

  Jake looked up at the clear night sky. “What did he want?"

  "He wanted me to tell you that Allison is awake."

  Jake closed his eyes and bowed his head, his right hand balling into a fist. “I'm on my way."

  When they arrived at the hospital, Allison was sitting up in her bed and laughing at something her brother had said. Kat Rubin held Allison's hand. Things got quiet when Bill Lancaster and Jake walked into the room.

  "Hello, Detective. Jake. Come in. I've been expecting you."

  "You got your color back,” Lancaster said. “How do you feel?"

  "I want to go home, but other than that, I feel pretty good considering."

  Jake didn't know what to say. The last time he'd seen Allison, harsh words had been spoken. Nick kissed his sister's head and said, “Detective, why don't we step outside and I'll fill you in on what the doctor told us."

  "Sure."

  "Kat.” Nick motioned her to follow and she went without comment.

  Jake stood by the window and stared out at the night. He stuffed his hands in his pocket and jiggled the change.

  "Are you going to talk to me?"

  "I don't know what to say,” he responded without turning around.

  "How about you look better today, Allison, or, glad to have you back with the living?"

  He spun around at the last remark. “That's not a joking matter. He could have killed you."

  "He could have tried.” She twisted the bed sheet in her left hand. “He won't get the chance again. I was careless and unprepared, but that will change."

  "No.” He rushed to her bedside. “I want you out of this. You are to stay away from this manhunt. I can take you back to my house."

  "What good will that do, Jake? He's proven he can get to me no matter where I go."

  "We don't know that for sure. He might have been closer than we had suspected."

  "It's irrelevant now. I'm not going to hide from him. This is my destiny. I must face him."

  "You will not!"

  Allison cocked her left brow. “Orders? You're giving me orders?"

  "Damn straight. And you'll obey or I'll have you arrested."

  He'd used this threat before. “Well I hope that works better than the kidnapping thing, but I doubt it."

  "Allison, listen to me. This is not your fight. It's unfortunate that he happened to stop in your town and somehow you hooked up, but that's the extent of your involvement. I can't be worrying about you and catch him."

  "Believe it or not, I understand now. All this was set in motion a long time ago."

  "How do you mean?"

  "It's complicated.” She put her hand over her eyes. The light seemed to be growing brighter and her head was splitting.

  Jake brushed his hand through her hair and his lips across hers. “Let it go for now. You need to rest and I have some work to do. We'll talk in the morning."

  Allison looked hard into his tired eyes and ran her hand along his jaw line. “When did you sleep last?"

  He clenched his jaw. “Actually, I slept real well last night."


  "Really?” Disbelief laced her question.

  "With the help of a friend.” He toyed with the buzzer. “I better go."

  Allison grabbed his hand. “Jake. Nick told me what you did. It must have been hard for you. You were out of your element."

  "Not really. I did some investigative work and came up with a possible solution to a problem.” He smiled. “Piece of cake."

  "I don't believe that for a second, but okay.” Allison adjusted herself in the bed.

  "Goodnight, Allison.” Jake quietly closed the door. Officer Logan was standing in the hall.

  "Logan, no male personnel get in this room except Dr. Markovich or Nick Brody."

  "I'm on it,” Logan said.

  "How is she?” Lancaster asked when he met him near the nurse's station.

  "She seems well enough. What did Dr. Markovich have to say?"

  "I'll fill you in on the way.” Bill Lancaster shook Nick Brody's hand. “It's been a pleasure talking to you. I'm sure I'll see you again."

  "Thanks, Detective. I appreciate it.” He looked at Jake. “Did you get what you needed?"

  "Not exactly. She's a difficult woman.” Jake rubbed his eyes as he spoke. They felt gritty and dry.

  "Yes,” Nick said. “She's been that way all her life."

  The two shared a conscious moment of agreement before Jake and Lancaster left.

  "Uh, Jake."

  "Hmmm?"

  "I haven't brought it up until now, but do you think while we're here at the hospital, you might want to go have your leg looked at? You might need stitches."

  Jake pulled on his pants leg and cursed under his breath. The blood had dried and the material had stuck to his wound. He'd forgotten all about the injury, but Lancaster was correct. It most likely needed attention. “Okay, let's stop off at the emergency room."

  "Are you going to tell me what happened?” Lancaster pressed the elevator button.

  They stepped in and Jake said, “Evening strolls aren't what they used to be."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  Two hours after leaving the hospital with a freshly cleaned and bandaged leg, Jake walked into his room, slammed the door and threw the bottle of antibiotics on the dresser. He maneuvered his arm around in circles, up and over behind his head, trying to work out the soreness. “Damn Tetanus shot."

  He plopped down on the bed after removing his jeans, not bothering to remove his socks or shirt. His leg throbbed, his arm throbbed, his head ached, and his mood was foul. What more could happen?

  His phone rang. “Austin."

  "Victory is mine sayeth...."

  "What do you want? I'm in no mood for your bullshit tonight."

  "My, my. Aren't we testy?"

  Jake laid down, throwing his arm over his head. “It's late. Is there a point to this call?"

  "I just wanted to say congratulations, Jake. You out maneuvered me this time. Smart thinking, finding the locket. However did you manage to figure it out?"

  "Connections,” Jake replied dryly.

  "She's beautiful, our Allison, and very special. She will get my full attention. Her body is exquisite, her round, firm breasts just enough. I love her voice when it comes in breathless whispers."

  Exasperated and bone-weary, Jake said, “Yeah, her eyes are the color of rich coffee and her hair as soft as silk, yada yada. What the hell do you want?"

  "Don't pretend you don't care about her, Jake. We both know that's a lie. What do you want?"

  "I want you to give yourself up and end this."

  The killer laughed.

  Jake threw his phone across the room where it bounced off the wall and landed on the cushion of a small wooden chair in the corner. “Bastard."

  Jake fell asleep shortly after that.

  * * * *

  Nick tiptoed into the room, but Allison knew he was there. “I'm not asleep."

  Nick pulled a chair to the bed. “So how'd it go?"

  "What?"

  "Your time with Austin."

  "Fine.” She adjusted her covers, freeing her I.V. line which had somehow gotten caught underneath.

  "Just fine, huh?"

  "What are you getting at, Nick?"

  "While I don't have psychic abilities, I have eyes. The man is smitten.” He grinned wide.

  "Don't be ridiculous.” She wouldn't look at him or he would see the fact that she was smitten, too.

  "He's wearing that aggravated, frustrated, I want to kill her look."

  Allison glanced his way, eyes narrowed.

  "It's common in the men who spend enough time around you."

  Allison crossed her arms over her chest, careful not to hit the I.V. “You're pushing it."

  Nick put his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “Hey, it doesn't happen often."

  "Certainly not,” Allison said.

  "But then, you don't let people around, especially men."

  She opened her mouth to throw back a stinging retort, but Nick spoke first. “I did learn that they are planning some type of sting op, though. Some way to bring this guy out so they can catch him. I couldn't get any more than that. Detective Lancaster told me to make me feel better about your safety."

  A pain started behind her eyes. “Look, Nick. Why don't you go home, rest, and get cleaned up. Come back tomorrow."

  "I'd feel better if I stayed."

  "Nick, please. I'll just be worried about you if you stay and then I won't get any sleep."

  He sighed, grabbed his keys from the table and slid his arms into his jacket. “All right, but I'll be back first thing in the morning."

  Nick kissed her forehead. “Sleep well."

  Allison smiled at him even though she knew she would get very little sleep.

  * * * *

  Wrapped in darkness, he moved swiftly. A stopwatch in one hand, he jumped over a row of shrubs and stopped behind a tree, close enough to the house that he could see inside.

  Allison breathed hard as if she'd been running. In her dreaming state, she had connected with him again. He was planning his next move and she didn't like it. Another innocent woman would be butchered.

  He strolled back to where he'd left his car, a black luxury car with tinted windows. He toyed with something in his hand, but she couldn't see it. A quick click snapped the tool into place. In the glare from the streetlight, Allison saw the straight razor, sharp and deadly.

  She screamed and woke instantly.

  Officer Logan stuck his head in the room with his hand on the gun butt. “Ms. Brody, are you all right?"

  "Not really, Logan."

  He came inside the room and closed the door behind him. “Can I get you anything?"

  "You're very kind, but I don't think anything will make him go away."

  "You mean the killer?"

  "Yes. He's going to kill again ... soon."

  "You had another vision?"

  His worried frown comforted her. “Yes. He uses a straight razor to cut them.” She swiped at the tear running down her cheek.

  "I'll call Detective Lancaster and Agent Austin."

  "Thanks."

  He's going to kill again. She couldn't bear the thought of it.

  * * * *

  In unbuttoned jeans and bare feet, Jake sat staring out the small window toward the ocean. Something had flashed in his mind, which woke him, but already things were fading. Mostly nightmares of all the women who had already died, begging him for salvation so they could move on. He would gladly give it to them if he knew how.

  The sun rose over the horizon as dawn broke. A beautiful sight he supposed, but it just meant another day had come and gone, and still he had failed.

  He stepped into the shower, letting the spray wash away the dirt and grime from the previous day's jaunt and his playtime with the garbage cans. That noticeable hospital smell clung to him, as well. He used a washrag and soap to scrub his skin. Harder and harder he went over his arms, chest, and stomach until his skin burned. Unfortunately,
his guilt couldn't be washed down the drain so easily.

  Freshly clothed in a dark, blue suit which he'd finally had dry cleaned, Jake walked down toward the police station. He hadn't jogged in several days and his muscles were screaming for exercise.

  Not quite six thirty a.m., Jake buzzed into the lobby and back to the room where pieces to this puzzle were strewn across tables and the floor. Surprisingly, he was the first to arrive. Dejected and with frustration, the team had probably decided to sleep in.

  Margo came in the room juggling her purse, a cup of coffee and two boxes of pastries. “Good morning.” Her cheery smile seemed to brighten the room.

  Jake walked over and took the boxes from her. “Morning."

  She dropped her purse on the floor, set her cup down, and pushed the button which started her computer humming. “Got some new information late last night."

  "Oh?” His interest piqued.

  "Got hits from the second interviews with a couple of people from previous scenes. It seems on two occasions a man with a camera was noticed."

  "Really?” He wondered at the carelessness of the killer, certainly not like him.

  "Could be a coincidence. Both men had different color hair and one witness claims the man was six feet two and the other says five foot ten.” She shrugged as she sat down in front of the computer. “We have people following up."

  "Good.” He didn't think anymore would come of it, but he had to act interested. “I'm going to get some coffee."

  "Okay."

  The rest of the group wandered in at different intervals. Jake waited until they were all there and settled down with caffeine and sugar.

  Finally, without preamble, he said, “He knows Allison is awake."

  The rustling paper and quiet murmurs stopped. “What?” Peter Carmichael said.

  "He knows she's awake."

  "How do you know?” Tobias asked.

  "He called me late last night to compliment me on out maneuvering him."

  "Shit.” That from Dr. Quincy as he rubbed his eyes. “What do you think he'll do now?"

  "Move on, I hope,” Bill Lancaster offered.

  Jake chuckled. “Not likely with Allison still here."

  Lancaster's jaw ticked. “He has to know she's going to be well-guarded."

  "I'm sure."