Lost Reaper

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Lost Reaper Page 15

by Shelley Russell Nolan


  I walked a slow circle, stifling a wince as the cold bit into my feet. I could see nothing save for trees, spindly bushes and an endless expanse of snow. With no chance of finding shelter, warmth, my body heat would rapidly be used up, the silken dress hugging my body providing no protection. Nothing lived here, not even the trees. Their spark had been extinguished by a cold so intense it sapped the air from my lungs with each breath.

  Grimm appeared in front of me and I made myself smile, scared at the effort it took to make stiffening facial muscles obey. I had to get out of here, fast.

  ‘I thought hell was supposed to be all fire and brimstone. What a letdown,’ I said.

  ‘Hell has many faces.’

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ I waved a hand at the backdrop to his nightmare. ‘Why torture me with impossible landscapes?’

  ‘Taking a person out of their comfort zone can be very revealing. I make it my business to know as much as I can about those who will be spending the rest of eternity at my side. You and I are going to be very close.’

  I turned away and stared at the snow covered expanse surrounding us. He sounded lustful, a lust for power, of ownership, control. When I was confident my voice wouldn’t break, I faced him.

  ‘You and I will never be close.’ I lifted my chin and met him glare for glare. ‘What is it you want?’

  ‘Find Ash by midnight Thursday or close won’t even begin to describe our relationship.’ He licked razor thin lips. ‘Unless you want to belong to me, body and soul, for all of eternity, do not disappoint me.’

  He clicked skeletal fingers and I screamed, throwing myself backwards as his bony hands reached for me. Everything went black. I hit a soft surface. My mind registered it as a bed and I flung myself sideways, eyes scanning the shadows for Grimm. My screams petered off to whimpers. I was in my bedroom, alone.

  ‘Tyler, are you okay? I thought I heard a scream.’

  I spun around and stared at Sarah, who stood in the doorway. She reached over and flicked on the bedroom light.

  ‘Did you have a nightmare?’ She stepped into the room and frowned. ‘Why are you wearing that?’

  I cast an eye around the room. My pyjamas had vanished, like the clothes I’d been wearing when I’d been murdered. I moved over to my wardrobe and pulled out a nightshirt. With my back to Sarah, I stripped off the dress and then put the nightshirt on.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said, tossing the dress onto the end of my bed. ‘I promise it won’t happen again.’

  Sarah’s frown deepened as she took the dress and folded it over her arm. ‘It must have been horrible, seeing that dead girl. Do you want to talk about it?’

  I shook my head, the bitter sting of tears making me blink. ‘I’ll be okay. I need to get some sleep. Thanks though.’ She nodded and then closed the door behind her.

  The clock read two am, plenty of time for me to get some sleep before my alarm went, but I didn’t turn off the light. I did not want to lie in the dark, wondering if Grimm was about to pull me into another nightmare. So I piled up the pillows against the bed head and used them as a backrest as I sat there, the covers pulled up to my chin, waiting for morning to arrive.

  At seven am I was already dressed for work. I stood in the bathroom and hunted in my makeup bag for something to disguise my lack of sleep. Eye drops helped soothe some of the grittiness and makeup gave me some colour back.

  I emerged from the bathroom and nearly banged into Sarah, who scratched her head as she stumbled down the hallway. ‘Coffee,’ she mumbled. ‘Need coffee.’

  ‘Yours is on the table.’ I stepped around her and grabbed my own mug from the kitchen bench and downed the last of my second coffee.

  ‘Have long have you been up?’ Sarah cradled her mug between her hands.

  ‘Thought I’d head into work early to make up for skipping out on Friday,’ I said with a shrug.

  Sarah took a sip of her coffee and gave a sigh of pleasure. Then she cleared her throat. ‘Listen, about the dress. I didn’t realise you had two of them.’ She gave me a sheepish grin. ‘Thought I was going crazy when I opened my wardrobe and saw mine hanging right in front of me. I put yours in the laundry basket.’

  I gave a nod as I rinsed my mug and placed it in the draining rack. If Grimm kept dragging me off to the Underworld I’d end up with nothing to wear but white dresses.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me you had two dresses the same?’

  ‘Tired, I guess. It didn’t seem like the time.’

  Her eyes went wide and she clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Oh my god. One of them was for me, wasn’t it? Like last Halloween, when we went out as witches.’

  I shrugged and looked down at my hands, unable to think of any explanation half as good as the one she’d come up with. I slung my bag over my shoulder, wondering how much guilt one person could carry before they cracked. ‘I’ve got to go if I want to get back on Anne’s good side.’

  Sarah let me leave without further comment but the hard knot in my stomach didn’t start to unravel until I pulled in to the Chronicle’s staff car park. I went straight to the staff room and gave a smile when I saw the coffee pot bubbling away.

  ‘Looks like I’m not the only early riser,’ said James, one of the journalists, as he walked in behind me and took down a coffee mug. ‘What’s got you so keen?’

  ‘I went home sick on Friday,’ I said as I grabbed my mug and waited for him to fill his with coffee. ‘You?’

  ‘It was a busy night for Easton. Another girl was murdered. I’d say we’ve got a serial killer on our hands.’

  The hard knot returned and I filled my mug without saying a word. Beside me, James stirred three spoons of sugar into his coffee and poured in a splash of milk. Then he took a sip. ‘Ah, just what the body needed.’ He turned to leave the room, but stopped short and looked back at me, a serious expression on his face. ‘You and Sarah need to be careful. Whoever this guy is, he likes young brunettes. I’d hate to be writing an article with your names in it.’

  My mouth quivered as I attempted a smile. ‘You don’t have to worry about us. We’ll be careful.’

  ‘The only time I want to see your name in the paper is as a by-line. Got it?’

  ‘Got it,’ I said as I sat at the table. If I had a choice, I’d rather be killed by some anonymous murderer and rob the Grim Reaper of the satisfaction of doing the deed himself. Talk about a death wish.

  ‘Tyler, nice to see you here so early,’ said Anne as she clomped into the room. I’d been so sunk in my gloom I hadn’t heard her coming down the hall even though her heels usually announced her arrival long before anyone caught sight of her.

  ‘Figured I had some catching up to do,’ I said as I stood, coffee mug held in front of me like a barrier.

  ‘Good. Make sure there are no more sick days. I’d hate for a promising career to pass you by all because you neglected your health.’

  I bit off the retort wanting to burst out of my mouth and settled for a tight smile. Then I brushed by her and headed for my work station, determined to immerse myself in the classifieds and stop my brain from thinking about anything else.

  I gave Sarah a smile of welcome when she arrived an hour later but didn’t let the distraction break my concentration. For the next four hours I worked through my task list, took phone calls and served at the front counter as required. The bell on the front counter sounded just before lunch and I got up to serve the latest customer.

  Sam’s arms were crossed in front of him and no smile lit his hazel eyes.

  My pace slowed, delaying the moment when he would start questioning me about my involvement in Monique’s death, in no rush to hear how badly I had screwed up.

  Chapter 24

  ‘We need to talk,’ said Sam.

  After a deep breath, I nodded. ‘It’s almost time for my lunch break. I’ll meet you outside in fifteen minutes.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  I watched as Sam turned around and walked out the front door, then jumped w
hen Sarah tapped me on the arm.

  ‘Is the cop here because of Monique?’

  I nodded. ‘I guess so. I said I’d meet him in fifteen minutes.’

  ‘I’m lunching alone again, huh?’

  I headed back to my workstation, Sarah following behind. ‘I’d rather answer his questions now, on my break, than have to go down to the police station. Anne would kill me if I had to take any more time off.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Sarah. ‘Go have lunch with the detective.’ She gave me a sly smile. ‘If I had the chance to spend some time with a cop who looks like him, I’d ditch you too.’

  My smile was more of a grimace and I twisted a section of my hair as she continued to talk. ‘He’s hot, all serious and brooding one minute, and then he smiles and, wham, it’s like the whole world lights up.’

  From the enthusiastic expression on her face I could tell she was going to go on and on about Sam and I bit my lip to stop myself from telling her to shut up. Luckily the phone on her desk rang and when she moved to answer it Anne walked in and wanted to know where we were up to. I filled her in and the fifteen minutes until my break went quickly. After saying goodbye to Sarah, who headed off for the staffroom, I grabbed my bag, took out my sunglasses and popped them on.

  Across the road, Sam stood with his back to me, looking out over the river running through the middle of Easton, a white paper bag in one hand. He turned to face me as I crossed the road, and I was grateful for the sunglasses cloaking my eyes when I reached his side and he smiled.

  As uncomfortable as Sarah’s admiration of Sam had made me, she was right. The warmth of his hazel eyes, flecked with green and gold and framed by long lashes, brought a flush to my cheeks and I dipped my head to gain time to regain my composure. After the awkwardness of our last meeting, and his grim demeanour fifteen minutes ago, I’d thought I’d never be the recipient of one of those smiles again.

  He handed me the white bag. ‘I hope you like chicken and salad sandwiches.’

  ‘You didn’t need to buy me lunch.’

  He shrugged. ‘Figured it was the least I could do for monopolising your time.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I slipped the sandwich inside my handbag.

  ‘Shall we take a walk?’ Sam waved a hand towards the boardwalk snaking alongside the river. I gave a nod and we set off, side by side, the silence oddly comfortable considering the conversation we were about to have.

  But Sam didn’t broach the reason for his visit until we reached one of the pergolas sitting out over the water. He led the way to the bench at the back, sat down and indicated for me to join him. With the river to one side of us, and a slow stream of pedestrians walking by on the boardwalk, he faced me with no trace of a smile.

  ‘You lied to me last night. You said you didn’t know who the girl was. But you were seen talking to her and your brother at The Wine House an hour earlier.’

  ‘I didn’t know her.’ I held my handbag on my lap and kneaded the leather with both hands. ‘I’d only met her that night, for a minute, less even, and it wasn’t like we were even talking to each other. She was at the bar with Connor, and she left straight after I walked in. Later, when I saw her lying there, I didn’t realise who she was.’

  ‘But you figured it out.’

  ‘Connor was at the flat when I got home and as soon as I saw him I knew.’ Sam’s gaze didn’t waver and I had to force myself not to break eye contact. ‘I’m sorry, Sam. If I’d known who she was I’d have told you.’

  He nodded. ‘Fair enough, I guess.’

  I took a deep breath. ‘You think Connor did it, don’t you?’

  He glanced away. ‘At the moment, he’s the only suspect we have and a witness saw the victim walk off with a guy with blonde hair shortly after she left the bar.’

  ‘It wasn’t Connor. I’m sure of it. You didn’t see him when he found out. He was crushed.’ My voice broke, remembering the way Connor’s face had fallen when I’d told him what had happened.

  ‘I’d have thought, if you hadn’t been able to recognise her at the time, you might have waited for confirmation of her identity before telling your brother his girlfriend was dead.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mess up your investigation. I blurted it out the second I saw him, when it clicked in my head.’

  For a long moment, Sam didn’t say anything. He gazed out over the river and after a while he started talking again. ‘That’s not the only ongoing investigation I need to speak to you about.’

  The knot in my stomach tightened. I gripped my bag tighter, bracing myself for whatever came next.

  ‘You heard about the car accident yesterday? Little girl and her mother were hit by a car.’

  The sound of my pulse loud in my ears, I swallowed and managed a slight nod. ‘The paper said the driver was speeding and probably drunk.’

  Sam gave a sigh. ‘It’s what we suspect, yes. But no one saw the accident and we don’t know who was driving. A patrol car picked up four young men two blocks down the road. They had all been drinking, deny being the one behind the wheel at the time of the accident, and are claiming not to remember who drove.’

  ‘Can they get away with that?’

  ‘Depends on the evidence, but if we can’t find anything to prove who was driving the perpetrator could go unpunished.’

  My stomach sank. I knew who the driver was, but how could I get the information to Sam without revealing my own involvement? I doubted a statement from an astral projection would stand up in court.

  Sam faced me. ‘The little girl said an angel with long dark hair came to visit her while she was trapped underneath the car. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?’

  I jumped, heart racing. ‘I don’t understand,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t there when the accident happened. I was at …’

  ‘Bradbury’s,’ said Sam with a grimace, and then his expression turned pensive. ‘You said you had a nightmare, about a car and a little girl. An amazing coincidence, wouldn’t you say?’

  I shook my head and gave a small laugh. ‘My nightmare had nothing to do with your accident. I’m not psychic and I’m certainly not an angel.’ My voice broke as I remembered my aborted attempt to save Monique’s life.

  ‘So you say, but I’m thinking the little girl would say differently if she got to meet you face to face. After she described her angel to me, I showed her your picture and she’s one hundred percent certain that it was you.’

  Tears sprang to my eyes and I took my sunglasses off so I could wipe them away, exposing myself to his intense scrutiny. ‘She must have been terrified. I’m glad she found a way to turn a horrible memory into something beautiful and honoured she would pick me to be her angel, but it’s not true. I wasn’t there, but I wish I could have helped her. I wish I could identify the driver for you so he can pay for what he did to her and her mother.’

  Sam wiped away the tears tricking down my face. I stopped breathing as his fingers caressed my cheek. He dipped his head towards me and I tilted mine back. Our lips met and I instantly lost myself in the taste of his mouth as he deepened the kiss.

  Sam’s arms went around me, pulling me against him. My arms wound around his neck. The world, my worries, everything vanished. Nothing mattered except for Sam and the heat building inside my body.

  ‘I doubt the police interrogation manual states you have to kiss the suspect to make them talk.’

  I pulled away from Sam, guilt souring the pureness of the pleasure I’d found in his arms, and hesitantly met Chris’s hard blue eyes.

  ‘Chris …’

  ‘Bradbury, what do you want?’ If Sam was disappointed by the interruption his demeanour didn’t show it as he stood and confronted Chris.

  ‘My business is with Tyler, not you.’ Chris turned away from Sam and faced me. ‘I’ll wait for you in your office.’

  I nodded, my heart thumping as he turned away and crossed the street. I watched as he disappeared inside the Chronicle building and then reluctantly
turned to face Sam.

  ‘Sam …’

  He waved my words away. ‘I’ll let you get back to work,’ he said, voice gruff and hazel eyes shuttered. ‘But you need to be careful around him, and your brother.’

  ‘Neither of them are the killer.’

  ‘Maybe, maybe not. I guess you know them best, but I want you to be wary around them anyway. Three women are dead. Connor and Bradbury both had contact with at least two of them and while they might have alibis, they’re not exactly watertight. Bradbury’s got enough money to purchase a year’s worth of alibis if need be. As for your brother, I wouldn’t rate your ex-boyfriend as a reliable source. Watch your back.’

  Sam left and I headed back to work.

  Chris wasn’t in the foyer or the office I shared with Sarah. The door to Anne’s office was open and I could see her talking on her phone, no one else in the room with her. I heard Sarah laughing in the staffroom and set off down the corridor. Maybe she could help me find Chris.

  I slipped my sunglasses into my bag and pulled out the sandwich Sam had bought me, planning on putting it in the staffroom fridge before I continued searching for Chris. Sarah laughed again and she sounded so happy and carefree I couldn’t help myself from smiling as I stepped inside the staffroom.

  The smile cracked.

  Sarah sat at the table, back to the door. Chris sat next to her, leaning in close as he pointed to an article in the newspaper spread out in front of Sarah, murmuring something in her ear and making her laugh again.

  I dropped the bag containing the sandwich and both of them turned at the noise.

  ‘Hey, Tyler, you’re back early. I thought you and the sexy detective would be taking a long lunch, if you know what I mean.’ Sarah winked at me and heat swamped my face.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I said as I bent over and scooped up the squashed sandwich, conscious of Chris and the enigmatic smile on his face.

 

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