Games of Zeus 02- Silent Echoes

by Aimee Laine

  Emma appeared with a white, plastic cup in hand. “She wants to go home. I think you ought to go in there and tell her she’s not going anywhere until her ass is signed off by those people with the big M.D. after their name.”

  Tripp rose, his feet squeaking on the tile as he did. “Stay close to her, Ian.”

  “It’s what I do best.”

  Emma leaned back in the chair Tripp had vacated. “What’s going on? Where’s Taylor?”

  Ian went through the story yet again.

  “Wow. Well … she is an emotional wreck. But, I can’t see her trying to kill herself. Find out, Ian.” She patted his arm. “It’s what you do best, you know. Figure it out.”

  It’s what I normally do best. The doubts crept in—with his failure to find details on key elements of his own physique.

  A crackle overhead took some of Ian’s attention. “Ian Sands, please report to Emergency. Ian Sands, please report to Emergency.”

  He bolted down the hall.

  For the second time, Ian managed to cross throughout the entire hospital without paying attention to the building or its contents. He entered the Emergency department through its double doors and headed straight for the desk.

  “I’m Ian Sands.” The stairs and race through the hallways had taken his breath from him—that and the immediate stress of being called upon for who knew what reason.

  The nurses nodded toward the far door. Ian spun. Riley sauntered toward him.

  “What’s going on?”

  “My superiors are calling me back to the office.”

  “Go,” Ian said.

  Riley nodded. “Don’t leave her alone again.”

  Ian sucked in air, placing his hands on his hips. “I won’t.”

  “Scouts honor?”

  “Dude, do I look like a boy scout?” At Riley’s smirk, Ian said, “I won’t.”

  With a nod, Riley disappeared into the night, and Ian took his place back in a waiting room chair.

  12

  Taylor’s body trembled as she forced her eyes open, and put effort into the action when they tried to droop down upon her again. A blurry Ian stood in front of her with some woman she didn’t recognize in a white lab coat.

  “Need—” A dry throat cracked her words. “—a drink.” Running water sprayed to the right within a second of her request.

  Ian held out a paper cup. “Here.”

  Taylor shifted to sit more upright. “Thank … you.” Taylor sipped at it, letting it coat the lining of her throat. “What’s … what’s wrong? Why am I … here?” Each drink gave new life to her voice.

  Ian’s grip on the rail lightened his knuckles.

  “Perhaps we should have this conversation in private?” the doctor asked.

  “No.” Taylor met Ian’s gaze and returned to the doctor.

  She held up a pad, pen poised between her fingers. “What do you remember?”

  A shiver tore through Taylor. Being held under water. Being drowned by a face I’ve seen before. They’ll think I’m crazy if I say that. “I remember going to take a bath. To relax. And then … waking up.”

  “You were found unconscious in the bath,” the doc said. “We found nothing in your tox screen. Did you eat a food you’re allergic to?”

  Did I? Cheese and crackers. That had been a staple in her house as a kid. “No. I don’t think so. Nothing unusual. Is something wrong with me? What time is it?”

  “Almost eleven,” Ian said.

  The doc’s lips pursed.

  “I want to go home.” Taylor reached for the IV in her arm.

  The doctor put a hand on her wrist. “I can’t let you go just yet.”

  “Why?”

  The doc gazed up at Ian.

  “You … drowned, Taylor,” he said.

  “I’m fine.” She shivered. “I’ll go A.M.A. if I have to.”

  The doc stopped her again. “Ms. Marsh, we’d like to run more tests, to—”

  “No.” As her energy returned, so, too, did the memory, the scene, the sensation of being held under water. “I just—I just want to leave.” Hospital. Jail. Either or. They both had the same effect.

  “Come, on Taylor,” Ian started, “I’ll call Riley back and he—”

  “Riley knows about this?” Anger mixed with embarrassment, heating her cheeks. That Ian still stood in the room only made it worse. “I need to go.”

  “Ms. Marsh,” the doc said.

  Ian held up a hand. “Can you give us a second?”

  On a low sigh, the doctor nodded and walked out.

  “You almost died, Taylor.” His comment came out serious and without a hint of humor.

  “I know.”

  “What do you mean, you know?”

  Taylor cringed. How do I tell you that I remember every detail, and I know it wasn’t a dream? “I almost drowned once. Before.” No time like the present.

  He popped back up. “What?”

  She wrung her hands. “When I was a kid. I hate most bodies of water—pools, lakes, oceans—because of what almost happened. We were playing Marco Polo—you know, the kids game—when it happened. It was me, Riley, a few friends of his, and a couple kids from school who’d come to join. I don’t even remember all the people there. But I can tell you the smell of chlorine is etched into my mind. I can see the surface of the water over my head and the bubbles as they sucked away my air.” She heaved a breath as if it would be her last.

  “You don’t have to tell me this.”

  “I was hiding under water, coming up for air just long enough to get away. The crystal clear blue kept me from whoever was ‘it’. I don’t even remember that part anymore. Just the darkness that came over me. I thought it was an air mattress, so I tried to get out from under it.” She closed her eyes at the memory. “But then, the whole pool went dark. I couldn’t see anyone. I couldn’t hear. My head started spinning. I couldn’t find the surface. All I could see … oh, God, this is going to sound crazy.” She heaved a breath. “I saw a face. And … I saw it again. This time. I remember what happened, Ian. Between getting in the tub and waking up. I didn’t want to say anything and make the doc think I’d gone nuts, but … I have to tell you this.” She wrung her hands in front of her. “I—I know the face who watched me as a kid, and the one that held me under in the tub.”

  Ian’s gaze stayed on her. After a deep breath, he asked, “Who was it?”

  “It was you, Ian. You.”

  • • •

  Taylor kept her back to the door as she redressed. The docs had given her discharge papers, but they kept coming back into the room with information and advice, thoughts and ideas as well as what she should look out for in the future. Added to that, they told her, in no uncertain terms, to take at least a week off work due to the fractured ribs from Ian’s CPR efforts.

  She and Ian hadn’t talked any more about her revelation, and Taylor figured that meant either he didn’t believe her, thought she’d gone crazy, or he needed to process it. Maybe he just didn’t care. She knew it hadn’t really happened, just somehow his face had been superimposed in the water, but it had been his face. How he’d been there when she’d been a child, she’d never know, but figured faces blurred by the ripples of water could have been anyone.

  The swish of the door accompanied a rap and a “knock-knock” in Ian’s voice. With Riley back on not-friend-cop-only duty, Ian had offered to be her transportation.

  “Come in.” She turned as he filled the doorway. “They aren’t going to give me any grief, right?” A yawn opened her mouth wide.

  “Tired?”

  “Yeah. Sore, too.” She placed a hand on her rib. “Ian, look—”

  He touched a finger to her lips. “It wasn’t real. I know what you’re going to say, and it wasn’t.”

  “I know, but it felt real. And I remember it. Like, every detail. And while I think it was your face, I know it wasn’t.”

  “See? You’ve already gone from think to know.”

  “You don�
�t even seem freaked by this.”

  “I’m processing.”

  Taylor couldn’t help the smile. “Processing? Is that your word for freaked but not showing it?”

  Ian chuckled. “Sure. We’ll go with that.”

  She rolled her shoulders, pulling at the muscles in her chest wall and cringing at the stab of pain on her left side.

  Ian waggled a finger in her direction. “I’d suggest a nice, relaxing bath to ease the soreness, but that didn’t go so well last time.” His grin brought out her own. At least he hadn’t lost his sense of humor.

  “What time is it again?” she asked.

  Ian turned his watch face around. “Ah … almost two.”

  “Still plenty of time to tuck in for a good night’s sleep.”

  “Is that what they say down here?”

  Taylor’s laugh snuck up on her. “You really are New York, aren’t you?”

  “Born and bred.” He held out a hand. “And two in the morning is prime partying time.”

  She grabbed her papers. The little touch to his fingers sent heat through her body. “Hey, Ian?” He stopped and turned toward her. “Would you mind driving by my house?”

  His gaze stayed on her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  She cocked her head and jutted out a hip. “Would you stay away if it was your place?”

  • • •

  The only description that could fit Taylor’s lawn would have been ‘war zone’. A single light burned under the pitch black night sky.

  “I’m pretty sure they’re done gathering, and now it’s just a matter of verifying there isn’t anything else.” Ian cut the engine to the Jag.

  Taylor pushed out through the door.

  “Hey!” Ian’s voice didn’t stop her. “You said drive by!”

  She traipsed the rest of the way up the drive and marched toward her home.

  Tire marks ran along the grass, up to and through her yard. Yellow caution tape, visible under the moonlit sky, caused her heart to flip-flop.

  Her rose bushes fell to both sides as if a pole had fallen right through the middle. A foreboding emptiness claimed the entire space.

  At the touch of her arm, she whirled. Her hand whipped up. Ian caught it as if she’d simply lobbed a softball and he’d seen it coming.

  “Let go of me.” The steel tone along with the near punch should have given him a clue as to the seriousness of her request.

  “No.”

  “Dammit, Ian.” She jerked, but couldn’t free herself. The weakness in her limbs didn’t help.

  “Why are you here, Taylor?”

  “Because I need to take care of my house. I needed to see what was going on. This is mine, Ian. Mine. Nobody has a right—you think they can come in here and destroy—”

  He shook his head. “But, right now isn’t the time for that.” His hold relaxed.

  She yanked free and trudged off toward the caution tape corral. The pile that had once been her shed laid out in pieces like a puzzle ready to be put together. The area where she’d found the bones held nothing but dirt and a large hole.

  Even with the footsteps behind her, she stared ahead, wishing she could see beyond what the moon illuminated for her. “This is my land, Ian. My home. And under the misguided belief that I killed someone, they jumped to conclusions. Dammit! Everyone around me jumps to conclusions. Here. In Alabama.” She stood with hands on her hips. “Why do people do this to me? What is it about me that people want to mess with? What did I do?” Her breath caught, but she refused to let tears form, to succumb to her own plight.

  Ian stepped closer, his scent filling her with comfort. “Bad timing, maybe?”

  “Well, then. That answers that.” Her hands flew into the air and dropped against her thighs.

  A hoot called through the silent air. Across the road, lights blinked off, signaling the end of her neighbor’s day. Around them both, the earth moved into the night’s sleep.

  Taylor knelt in the dirt. “I had peace, Ian.” She cupped the clay mixture and let it slip through her fingers. “It’s mine. It’s supposed to be mine.”

  The hold on both her upper arms caused her body to freeze.

  “Please let go.” A torturous battle of wills began—her body’s versus that of her mind. “I’m sorry. Can you take me back to Tripp and Lexi’s?”

  “Sure, but are you okay—I mean physically? Do we need to go to the ER again? You tensed under that touch. I felt it in my entire hand.”

  Taylor tilted her head low. “I have an issue with my arms being brought behind my back or having anything hold me that way.”

  “But I didn’t—”

  “I know.” Nerves that had momentarily frozen tickled and teased back into existence. “It’s just a thing. I have … a few quirks.”

  “We all have those.”

  “So, you see my face trying to drown you, too?” She dropped her head into her hands. “I’m sorry. That was wrong.”

  Ian stood in front of her and took her cheeks between his palms. “Do you, for a minute, believe I had anything to do with that?”

  On a low whisper, she said, “No. I never did. It was just … so real.”

  A scream froze them for a moment. They spun and separated.

  “What the hell was that?” Ian turned toward Taylor and she to him.

  The cry came again—a blood curdling sound muffled as if by a pillow.

  She ran toward the empty hole but twisted back toward him before he could take a step. “You heard that, didn’t you?”

  13

  For a moment, Ian didn’t answer. “I heard something, but by the way you trembled, I’m not sure we heard the same thing.” Given the night’s events, the fact she’d drowned, come back to life and checked herself out of the hospital, Ian wouldn’t discount any rational or irrational explanation. For anything.

  Taylor stopped. Each tiny shift toward him came with a low growl. “Why do men do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Just answer the damn question when I ask.”

  “I did.”

  “Okay then, what … exactly … did you hear?” Irritation coated her tone.

  He rubbed at the side of his ear. “Uh … like on the order of a howl? Could it have been a coyote?”

  “No. This was …” She ran a hand into her hair and tightened her fists around the tendrils. “It was a scream. A woman’s scream. I heard it. Clear as a bell.”

  “Probably just animals.” No way could he say the sound he’d heard had been anything but wildlife given he and Taylor stood alone on her property. Ian opened his eyes wide, searching beyond the edge of her land, to her house, to the only other barn on the property, hoping he would find the animal in question.

  He found nothing.

  Taylor stood at the yellow tape. “Here.”

  “Here what? You mean the sound? No, not there. Out there.” Ian pointed toward the line of trees.

  A bend and duck put Taylor on the other side of the barrier.

  “Wait!” The thought of her imprint on the earth—the scene of the crime—made him cringe. Tripp would roast his balls over coal for letting her touch it. Her shape flitted to the outer edge, and a cold chill caused goosebumps to pop up on Ian’s arms. “What’re you doing?” His voice carried off with the wind as the only light from above disappeared.

  “Looking.”

  Air swirled around him as darkness took a deeper hold. “For?”

  “Her.”

  “Her who, Taylor? There’s no one here.” Except animals. Ones that bite. And hurt.

  “The voice.”

  Ian itched to jump the yellow line and grab Taylor. “That was a coyote.” Right?

  “Maybe to your ears, but not to mine. It was a woman.”

  “Please, come back.” The hair raised higher on Ian’s arms. “To me. To this side of the yellow line. Out of the dirt. Even I’m not stupid enough to put my footprint on it.”

  “I won’t mess this up.”

/>   “Dammit, woman, you’re standing in the middle of it!” Ian’s voice pitched deep and serious. “Come back here.” He stepped toward the barrier, but before his foot hit the dirt, he stopped. I am not putting myself on the line for her. No, don’t do it. Not for a crazy woman who thinks I somehow drowned her. Twice.

  “Ian?” Her voice trembled like a bass violin.

  His body tensed, feet failing to take him any closer, his gut saying he should remain as far away as possible.

  “Ian!” A hitch took her breath.

  Another cry echoed through the dark. Taylor still stood in the middle of the spot, her body upright but unmoving.

  “Come here already.” His own voice shook as the thought of being mauled by wild animals failed to appeal to him. Ian and camping would never cross paths.

  “I—I—can’t.”

  Dammit. What is wrong with her?

  “Help me, Ian.”

  “Oh, for the love of all that’s human.” Ian chucked off his shoes, flung them to the side. He rolled up his pant legs and ducked under the yellow tape.

  Three steps took him to the center. A thunderclap shook the earth, and the sky broke. One grab pulled her from her frozen spot and into his arms as he trudged back across the line and into the wet grass.

  “Shh.” Ian soothed when she didn’t let go and trembled against him. “We need to go back to the car.” Her head shake and the jerk of her chest against his warred with his desire to get out of the rain. “We’re getting soaked,” he said.

  She stayed quiet, her cheek nestled against him.

  Water poured from their heads, drenching them both. Droplets bounced from the dirt up onto his legs. The rush of falling water continued, drowning out anything else.

  Ian tipped Taylor’s chin up. She blinked as rain soaked her face, dripping down her chin. With a tentative movement, he touched his lips to hers.

  Each pulled back but not out of the embrace.

  Taylor returned her lips to his, an intoxicating mix of lust, desire and the sweetness of honey. His hands moved upward to take her face between his palms. Their tongues danced against each other. The softness bore down on his heart and caught in his throat.

  He’d never hurt her. Ever. Not on purpose.