Night Kill (Private Investigator Andrew Knight Mystery Series)

by RL Edinger

  Her silence befuddled him. He wasn’t really sure why, or how come. Why would, how she looked or the apparent misery she felt, concern him? He tried to go back to reading, but couldn’t. Something unsettling about her was calling him ask her why. Where did this querying feeling come from?

  He slid the magazine back on the table, rose and walked over by her. He asked if he could sit down. No reply. He asked again. She gave a slow nod. He presumed that meant it was okay and immediately sat beside her. For the first few minutes they gazed out the large window at the soundless sights in streets below. Pretty soon his thoughts began to drift back to why she could be so miserable. What happened to her? Was it some incurable illness the doctor told she had? Did it have to do with family? What was it? There were so many questions twirling around in his mind; each jockeying for position. Finally, he just sort of blurted out, “My name is, um, um, its.” He hastily stopped. Damn it, he swore in his head. All he had to do was just say the damn name, but he couldn’t. For some reason it didn’t seem to fit. How weird was that he thought. Is it your name that defines who you are, or is it your actions, thoughts, and feelings? You can write your name down on paper, wear it on a name badge, or have some one call it out in the middle of the night. That’s what bothered him the most; your name does define who you are to others. Without it you’re just a vessel with emotions, witnessed by those around you, but no identity to go with it. So what is in a name; everything! He tried again, “My name is Andrew,” he benignly said. “Andrew Knight.”

  “Storm,” her voice finally came out of the shadows. “My name is Storm Higgins.”

  “I like your name,” He said, observing her closely. It felt weird. Why would he do something like that? Why would he even care? And yet it seemed as if from his observation he could tell a lot about her. For example, when she talked, he noticed her teeth were well cared for, so it meant that her parents had good insurance. Yet her eye teeth were longer; looking more like fangs. Why would she do that? He quickly shook off the feeling and recovered, and smiled. “How did your parents come up with it?”

  “My mom…” Storm sniffed back her tears. Her shoulders sunk and she became withdrawn, not so much as before. “My mom gave birth to me during a really bad snow storm. They couldn’t get to the hospital, so I was born at home.”

  He saw that talking about her mom was very upsetting. Something terrible must have happened recently. What could it be? Was her mom in the hospital or something worse?

  “Are you okay?” He picked up on Storm’s reluctance when she talked about her mom. He pressed further, “Did something happen to your mom. I mean, well, you can tell me only if you want to.”

  “My parents,” Storm paused and exhaled deeply. “My parents and brother were killed recently. I was the only one to live.”

  “Was it a car accident?”

  “No, they were murdered.” Storm bust out in tears. She covered her face with her hands. He didn’t know what to do. Should he comfort her? Call a nurse?

  “Dear Lord,” was all he could say. He simply sat there listening to her cry. He closed his eyes, and a single tear streamed down his cheek. For some weird reason, her pain had now become his pain. Who would murder a mother, father and brother? What kind of person could do that? Was it for money, or revenge, or something else? Why were all of these damn questions flooding his mind? His eyes flashed open; the room seemed to be getting smaller. He couldn’t breathe; it was like there was no air in the room. He suddenly felt very ill and had to get away.

  He bolted from the sofa and ran out of the room. He had to find a way to shut up the deafening, swirling noise in his head. But where could he go? That’s when he saw the door marked ‘Roof Observation Room’. He gave the door a shove to open and bolted up the stairs. Once he reached the top of the stairwell, he saw a glass enclosed observation room. It was empty. He closed the door. He grabbed a hold of his head with both hands and roared at the top of his lungs. His screaming ricocheted off the glass and engulfed him like waves crashing on the beach. “Make the questions stop!” He fell to his knees. “Make them stop! What is happening to me?” Images of people he did not know, places he couldn’t recognize and feelings that couldn’t be explained, joined in the menagerie leading to a torturous crescendo. The battle inside of him was too much to bear; it felt like the thunder of a thousand cannons. All of the suppressed memories and feelings that his mind had built up walls to hold back came flooding out. His head was spinning. He felt sick to his stomach. He tried to get up on his feet, but he couldn’t move. He tried to resist with his entire mind and might but he no longer could prevent it. He grabbed a trash can and vomited until his body finally succumbed and he just lay down. The battle was over, but who was the victor?

  Only an hour had passed by; just a small click to the hands of the clock in his life. He opened his eyes. The world was different now. Where was he? He glanced around the glass room. Where was he, oh that’s right, the observation room on the roof. He rose to his feet a bit unsteady yet. He walked over to one of the windows. He moved close enough to see his face reflected in the glass. He moved his head from side to side, each time gazing out of the corner of his eye. He was in need of a shave. He bent even closer to the glass. His eyes were still green, although they looked a bit tired. He made his face contort into an overdone grin. He laughed and his face relaxed again. Staring at the face in the glass, he asked, “Who are you?” With his eyes, he met the eyes of the person reflected in the glass. There was no hesitation. No longer did the specter of doubt rear its ugly head. Unlike the dream he had had a night ago, his face was not blank. His lips parted with a slight grin. “I am Andrew Knight.”

  Storm was still sitting on the sofa. She saw the man suddenly get up and rush out of the room. She didn’t know why.

  Storm was about to get up and go back to her room, when the man reappeared. He seemed different to her. Unlike before, he was smiling. He briskly walked toward her.

  Andrew walked back into the sunroom, fortunately Storm was still there. He smiled at her. Andrew walked toward her.

  Storm smiled slightly as he stopped in front of her. He sat down again.

  “Tell me about your parents,” Andrew started off.

  “What do you want to know?” Storm asked. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Listen Storm,” Andrew paused and quickly checked to make sure they were alone. “I’m a private investigator and have been hired by Wyatt’s mom to prove he didn’t murder your family.”

  “Wyatt would never do that,” Storm blasted back. She quickly calmed down, “Yeah he was excommunicated from the coven, but he wouldn’t. I mean my father didn’t like Wyatt’s lust for blood or the fact that he didn’t respect the laws by the coven.” Storm’s bottom lip began to tremble and she looked away, “But he would never hurt us or me.”

  “Did you see the person who attacked your family?” Andrew asked. He grabbed a tissue from the end table and handed it to Storm. She thanked him. Storm dried her eyes. She turned back towards him.

  “No, I was shot in the back.” Storm said. “Want to see the scar?” She started to lift her pajama top.”

  “No that’s okay,” Andrew motioned for her to stop.

  “When I finally woke,” Storm said. “I dragged myself down stairs. That’s when I saw my family…my family was…” Storm broke down. Andrew gingerly put his arms around her, offering comfort. He held onto her for quite some time and could feel her pain with each sob. He was even more determined to find the person who did this.

  “Listen Storm,” Andrew said softly. “Just tell me where I can find Wyatt. I know he didn’t attack your family.” Andrew paused for a second. “Wyatt is the key. He is the link to this Night Blade, whom I suspect murdered your family.” Storm thanked Andrew again, and she sat up.

  “Wyatt hangs out at a lot at JFK Prep,” Storm informed him.

  “Thanks, Storm,” Andrew smiled. She smiled back. Their respective nurses returned and took them back to their r
ooms. Life had given him his memory back and in the process, he got one up on Sheriff Delsmann. Today was a great day!

  The sounds of gentle, rolling waves and ocean breezes enveloped the room. Soft light from candles and their aromatic scents of lavender wafted about in a relaxing splendor. Megan lay in the soothing water with her eyes closed. She loving caressed her growing tummy; reassuring her unborn child that everything was alright. The hospital, more specifically Doctor Straussman, called to inform her that Andrew was being released this afternoon. So she decided to take a relaxing bath and then get dressed. Megan sat up and pulled the drain plug. She stood and reached for a towel. Megan wrapped it around her and she stepped out of the tub.

  Megan walked into the bedroom and sat down at the table and mirror. She put on her makeup, touched up her eyelashes with mascara and her lips with dark blood red lipstick. Megan walked over to the bed and let the towel gently drop to the floor. She checked herself in the full length floor mirror. Megan turned around slowly admiring her nude form. She ran her hand up ever so delicately caressing her body along the way. Megan stopped and cupped her breast. Megan closed her eyes. She imagined it was Andrew touching her as she moaned deeply. Megan opened her eyes and grabbed a pair of black lace maternity panties. She bent down and put them on. Next Megan slipped on a seductive black maternity skirt and spaghetti strap camisole top. It accentuated her curvaceous bosom. One way or another Megan was determined to get her husband back. She took a pair of lace strap black shoes from the closet and slipped them on. Yeah, Megan knew she was way over dressed, but the situation called for drastic measures. She was determined to jolt back Andrew’s memory, and the little black outfit she wore should do the trick.

  Megan grabbed the matching purse and her keys. She left the house.

  Andrew was really happy to actually put on some normal clothes. He was glad to finally be going home. He had just finished putting on his shoes, when there was a knock at the door.

  “Hello Doctor Straussman,” Andrew greeted her cheerfully.

  “I still don’t feel it’s a good idea for you to go home so soon,” she protested.

  “And I feel that being there might jog my memory,” Andrew shot back.

  “Fine,” Doctor Straussman flopped down in a chair. She looked up at him, “You do have my number, right?”

  “Yes.” Andrew patted his pants pocket.

  “Are you ready?” Veronica entered.

  “Do I really need that?” Andrew rolled his eyes when he saw the wheelchair.

  “It’s policy,” Veronica insisted.

  “Fine,” Andrew took his place in the chair. Veronica wheeled him out of the room. As they moved down the hallway towards the elevator, Andrew would peek into the room with open doors. Some of the beds were empty, others with the sick or dying. He had to go home; he would be forever stuck in this place. The only problem was that he had to keep up the charade in public. It was the only way to keep Sheriff Delsmann off his back. Plus it was the only advantage Andrew had in order to carry out his investigation. If Andrew could convince Sheriff Delsmann he still suffered from memory loss, she would leave him alone. Of course, eventually he would have to regain his memory at some point, Andrew knew that. When the elevator doors opened, Veronica wheeled him inside. As soon as they were set, she pushed the button for the main floor.

  Sheriff Delsmann waited in the main lobby of the hospital. In one hand she had a bouquet of balloons, and in the other a box of candy. People passing by smiled at her. Talia smiled back. They probably thought the gifts were for a loved one. In fact they were for Andrew. It wasn’t that Talia cared about him or anything like that. The real reason she was here was to see if Andrew Knight had managed to regain his memory. Talia wanted to observe the reunion with his wife. She was hoping to catch some glimmer of recognition in Andrew’s eyes when he saw his wife. That’s all Talia would need. She couldn’t wait to put Andrew Knight in the place he should be; not at home, but in jail! Talia straightened her taupe pant suit and brushed aside some loose strands of hair. Talia was almost giddy at the prospect of exacting her revenge on Andrew.

  Megan parked the red AC Cobra and immediately got out. She walked somewhat briskly to the main entrance of Bayport Memorial Hospital. As soon as Megan entered the main lobby she saw Sheriff Delsmann standing there with balloons and chocolate. Megan was not happy to see her and the displeasure was quite evident on her face.

  “Hello,” Megan’s voice oozed with displeasure.

  “Hello Missus Knight,” Talia replied in opposite.

  “Why are you here?” Megan asked.

  “I just wanted to express my happiness that Mister Knight is finally going home,” Talia answered smiling. “I also wanted to apologize for my behavior.”

  “I see,” Megan answered coldly.

  When the elevator doors finally opened to the lobby, what Andrew saw caught him completely off guard. There was Sheriff Delsmann holding a bouquet of balloons in one hand and box of chocolates in the other. Presumably, there were for him, but why and what was she up to? The other was Megan. She was dressed to the nines in a black skirt and camisole. She had smoky eyes and blood red lips. Holy crap, Andrew lamented. How was he going to convince both of them that his memory still hadn’t returned? Andrew closed his eyes and drew a deep breath to regain his composure. Veronica moved him forward as they headed towards the two women.

  Megan and Talia turned at the same time and saw Andrew being escorted by a nurse pushing him in a wheel chair. Megan was jumping up and down inside, but on the outside she was very composed. Talia was the opposite, very bubbly and excited.

  “Hello,” Andrew greeted them.

  Megan thought his eyes had an expressionless look to them. He still didn’t recognize her. So dressing the way she did had no effect on him. Megan felt embarrassed.

  Talia was also frustrated. When Andrew saw his wife there was no expression of recognition on his face at all.

  Andrew was using every once of both his mental and physical abilities to convince both of them his memory hadn’t returned. When Sheriff Delsmann looked away for a minute, Andrew stole a longing glance at Megan. She was beautiful. His arms were aching to hold her; to kiss her full, red lips. He just wanted to end the charade right now and tenderly caress and kiss her growing tummy. Andrew knew he couldn’t and it was killing him on the inside.

  When Sheriff Delsmann turned back, Andrew had already composed himself again and sat emotionless. Talia handed Andrew the balloons and box of chocolates.

  “This is a peace offering,” Talia smiled widely.

  “Thank you,” Andrew said. He put the box of chocolates on his lap and held onto the balloons. “I don’t know what you’re apologizing for, but hey the chocolates sound really good about now because I’m starving.”

  “Well, you’re welcome,” Talia laughed.

  “We better get going,” Megan insisted.

  Talia stepped aside as Megan and Veronica escorted Andrew outside. She watched Megan go and get the car. Talia quickly left and went to her own car.

  It was a quiet drive home. Megan glanced at Andrew from time to time as he slept. Soon they were home. Andrew woke and stared at the Victorian-style house. Megan got out of the car and walked around to his door. She opened it and Andrew emerged. She grabbed the candy and bouquet of balloons.

  As Andrew opened the front door and walked inside the foyer, he gazed at everything around him. Megan thought it seemed like it was the first time he was ever there.

  “Let’s go into the family room,” Megan suggested.

  “Okay,” Andrew answered.

  Megan led him to the family room. She set the gifts from Talia on the coffee table. Andrew wondered around the room taking it all in before sitting down on the sofa. Megan sat in one of the chairs across from him. It seemed like a very long time until Megan broke the silence.

  “So is any of this familiar?” Megan asked hopeful.

  “Ta beauté fait mon coeur se remplir de l’amour.�
�� “What are you saying?” Megan uttered.

  “J’ai manqué la chaleur de tes lèvres, le confort de ton étreinte et l’amour dans ton coeur.”

  “Why are you speaking French?” Megan angrily asked. She thought Andrew had finally snapped. Megan stood and was about to walk out of the room.

  “Ne t’en va pas, plait,” Andrew pleaded with her not to go. He got up and went after her.

  Megan was standing there crying. Andrew walked over to her.

  “Tu parlez-vous francais?” He asked if she spoke French.

  “Oui,” Megan answered yes. She wiped her eyes. “Tu m’as enseign” She was annoyed and him that he had taught her. She asked if he lost his mind, “Avezvous perdu votre esprit?”

  “T’es amusant,” Andrew teased that she was being hilarious.

  “Tu paries francais? Pourquoi?” Megan demanded why Andrew was speaking in French.

  “II y a un dispositif d’écoute sur les ballons,” Andrew told her there was an bug the balloons.

  “Qui l’a fait?"Megan demanded who did it.

  “A qui penses-tu?” Andrew asked who she thought.

  “Évidemment, Shérif Delsmann,” Megan replied. Suddenly she realized something else. “Ta mémoire est retournée!” Megan exclaimed estatically that Andrew had his memory back. The embrace they both were longing for finally happened! When they parted, Andrew led Megan into the kitchen. They slipped into the breakfast nook and sat down. Andrew told her it was safe to finally not speak in French any more.

  “When did you get your memory back?” Megan asked, caressing his hand.

  “Just yesterday at the hospital,” Andrew answered.

  “Today was just an act,” Megan said. “For Sheriff Delsmann…”

  “And for you,” Andrew finished.

  “Why is she so determined?” Megan asked.

  “I don’t know, but as long as she believes I still have amnesia, it will be fine.” Andrew kissed her hands.

  “There’s something else,” Megan turned more serious now. “Chloe and Roxanne are missing. Chloe took over the case for you and she asked for Roxanne to help her locate the missing teenagers. When the authorities arrived at JFK Prep, the only traces they found were Chloe’s gun and nothing else.”