Take Back the Night

by Annie Harland Creek

  A hand reached down and passed her the box. She glanced up at the owner of the hand. A nice-looking man with milk chocolate-colored skin and dark eyes. She accepted the tissues, passed them to the woman, and quickly returned to her seat, diverting her eyes to the opposite side of the room. Big mistake. The man facing her wore a blank, almost maniacal expression on his pale face. He seemed to be staring right through her, as though he couldn’t even see her. Another shiver shook her, drawing the attention of the doctor.

  “Are you all right, Susie?”

  Susie nodded as she chewed on the skin of her fingertips, the nails too short now to bite.

  “Would you like to share your story with the class?” Dr. Dubois asked, directing her question to Susie, who shook her head vehemently. “Perhaps next time?”

  The doctor sighed, writing something in her notebook before asking another patient. “Allan. We haven’t heard from you for a while. How have you been?”

  The strange man with the dead, focused eyes remained eerily silent as he continued to stare into space. A few of the other attendees whispered among themselves until the doctor shushed them. “Does anyone have anything to share? Anyone at all?”

  “I’m ready to share my story with the group,” the dark-eyed man announced. His deep, honey-toned voice sounded smooth and confident. Odd for a situation like this. A room full of broken, hopeless people. A stillness came over the group, as if the richness of his speech commanded their full attention. Even odd Allan turned his head to listen.

  “My name is Beau and my story begins many years ago. A man came to my small village. I recognized the danger, immediately. He’d come with the intention to stir up trouble and that, he did. He convinced my woman that I was no good for her and eventually turned the whole village against me. His actions drove me bankrupt. I lost everything. My woman, my friends and family, my home and my business. Forced to leave my home, I’ve attempted to make a new life here. At first, I felt overwhelmed, afraid. But now … now I see the beauty of your small town.”

  His piercing dark eyes bore through her as he emphasized the word beauty, and she felt a rush of blood to her cheeks before she looked away.

  “I’m ready to begin a new life, here in Azure Waters. The man who ruined my life remains in my thoughts, but I know my future looks brighter. I will prevail.” He flashed a toothy grin. “With the help of you wonderful people, of course.”

  The class applauded his courage and even Susie returned his beaming smile despite the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. His confident speech and determination almost sounded convincing. Almost. There was something in his words that didn’t ring true. Perhaps he tried too hard to convince the doctor? Maybe, like her, his real story would sound too far-fetched to be believed? Whatever the case, she found it difficult to trust him. Another handsome man with a hidden agenda. What are you hiding, Beau?

  ****

  Tempting as it was to wait outside the room for another opportunity to speak to Susie, Terry hurried back to the elevator the moment the session finished. What a bust. Allan barely opened his mouth, let alone divulged any useful information to help the case. If he hadn’t turned his head to watch the big black guy speak, he would have appeared, for all intents and purposes, dead. His expressionless face didn’t change for the entire hour that Terry had spent leaning against the wall, listening to stories of shattered dreams and tales of woe. Some cried, others shook their heads in sympathy. Allan Whittaker stared into space. He didn’t even respond to the doctor when she asked if he had anything he wanted to share. Susie, he noticed, almost had a meltdown when the doctor asked her the same question. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead and even from where he stood, he could see her hands shaking in her lap as she shook her head vehemently. Poor kid.

  From his car, he watched a procession of people exit the red brick building and head off in different directions. All except the big dude who waited by the door. Gut instinct told him that the guy was waiting for someone. A knot in his stomach told who. Susie. When she stepped out, the man spoke to her, catching her off-guard. She jumped back, her hand automatically covering her throat. It took every ounce of Terry’s willpower to keep his butt planted on the driver’s seat. No real danger, he reminded himself. He’s just a man attracted to a beautiful woman. Fuck! He smacked the inside of the car door with the back of his hand. He should have waited for her outside the room. Now another guy had beaten him to the punch. A big, handsome, smooth-talking guy. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  ****

  “I’m sorry to have startled you,” the man apologized. “I noticed you in the session and just wanted to introduce myself. My name is Beau.”

  Susie ignored the extended hand, keeping her eyes trained on her shoes as a rush of heat warmed her cheeks.

  “Susie,” she told him, hoping he would go away now he had her name.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Susie.” He held his hand out a few seconds longer before giving up and slipping it into his pocket. “What was your first impression of our group?”

  Susie raised her chin and faced him as she pondered his statement. “How did you—”

  “I would have remembered you if you’d been in the session before. I never forget a beautiful face.”

  Susie held tight to the strap of her handbag, fighting the temptation to draw her fingers to her mouth. To chew her bitten-down nails. As handsome as he was, this man’s attention sent a shiver down her spine, and not in a good way. Tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled and stood at attention. His smooth words might melt the hearts of other women, but they drove an ice stake into hers. She’d met his kind before. Gotta get out of here.

  As if on cue, a black limousine pulled up to the curb and the female driver jumped from the car to open the passenger door. “Are you ready to leave, Miss Lister?”

  With a half-smile and a brief nod in Beau’s direction, she hurried to the car, anxious to return to the mansion and avoid further eye contact with the smooth-talking stranger. Even with her back to him, she could sense him watching her as she scooted into her seat.

  “I’ll see you next week, Susie Lister,” he called to her before the driver closed her door.

  No, you won’t, she decided as the car pulled away.

  Chapter Five

  Despite the knowledge that her friends slept upstairs, only a scream away, Susie feared the solitude as she waited for the sun to set. She shook her head and laughed at the irony of the situation. The darkness terrified her, but not as much as the fear of being alone, helpless. Until she’d accepted Anna’s invitation to move into the mansion, sleep had eluded her. Even now, nightmares still woke her, but Anna and Derrick’s home offered some protection from the things that went bump in the night. That was the promise, anyway.

  At last, the final rays of sunlight began to disappear behind pink clouds. She followed her daily routine, closing all the block-out curtains in the kitchen, dining and living rooms. She switched on a few table lamps before the darkness crept over the room as she waited for her hosts to rise from their beds.

  ****

  “But you were making progress,” Anna protested after listening to Susie’s decision. “You can’t give up just because some guy hit on you.”

  Susie sat beside Anna on the couch, curling her feet under her bottom as she chewed on the smidgen of nail left on her right index finger. “I’ve been playing it over and over in my head while I waited to talk to you. There is something … wrong with that man.”

  Anna playfully slapped Susie’s hand from her mouth. “Why? Because he told you that you’re beautiful? I hate to tell you this, Susie, but you are beautiful”—she motioned to Susie’s attire—“even in your cartoon pajamas and bed socks. He isn’t the first to notice and he won’t be the last.”

  Shaking her head, Susie argued, “No. It’s more than that. He sends shivers down my spine.”

  Anna frowned. “Isn’t that usually a good thing?”

  “Isn’t what usually a good thing?�
�

  Susie turned toward Derrick, who’d entered from the kitchen. Between his fingers, he balanced three goblets by their stems in one hand and a bottle of Cabernet in the other. As he placed them all on the glass coffee table, she rose from her seat.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to bed.”

  Derrick’s mouth tightened into a grimace as his eyebrows knit. “Aren’t you going to stay and share a glass of wine with us?”

  She shook her head but refused to look in his direction as she made her apology. “Sorry, I’m not feeling so great.” As she rushed from the room, she called over her shoulder, “Have a good night.”

  When she reached her room at the front of the mansion, she stopped cold. Someone, or something, sat on her bed. She took a step back and prepared to scream when the familiar voice informed her, “It’s me, Susie. It’s only me.”

  “How did you…?” Susie turned her head right to left, then back to the bed. “Oh, geez, Anna. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

  Anna patted the bed. “Come and tell me what’s really bothering you.”

  Before closing the door, Susie motioned to the overhead light and flipped the switch. “If you don’t mind, some of us don’t have night vision.” She trudged over to the bed and plonked down beside her friend, as close as she could emotionally manage.

  “Derrick still terrifies you, doesn’t he?” Anna guessed.

  “It’s not him.” Susie held her hands over her face and shook her head. “I know he’s a good man, it’s just—”

  “He’s a vampire?”

  Removing her hands from her face, Susie stared into Anna’s eyes and confessed, “The vampire thing is a big part of it, but it’s more than that.” Her voice trailed off as she wondered how to explain without offending her best friend. “Look. I know deep down that Derrick wouldn’t hurt me the same as I know that about David and Meaghan and—”

  “And me?”

  She nodded and averted her eyes.

  “But you still fear us?”

  “I fear everything!” she cried out, unable to prevent the words from escaping. Unable to close the flood gates on her despair. “I fear the dark. I can’t stand to be in a room with a male. Every sound makes my heart beat like a war drum. Every shadow steals away the oxygen from my lungs. I’m frightened living here but terrified of moving out. I miss work but I couldn’t deal with male clients while I feel this way. I hate imposing on you, eating your food, accepting your hospitality while contributing nothing. I…” The sob escaped, followed closely by a torrent of tears. She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. Anna reached out to hug her but she withdrew, reluctant to be touched.

  “It’s okay, sweetie. Let it out.”

  “I’m tired of being afraid. I want to be happy again, Anna. Will that ever happen?”

  “I can help you, if you’ll let me.”

  Susie gasped, shaking her head vehemently. “I can’t. I just can’t do that.”

  “It would only be a small exchange of blood. You wouldn’t even feel it. Then, I’ll always be able to connect with you. Find you. Ease your mind.”

  “No!” She jumped from the bed, then turned her back to her friend, unable to face her. “I’m sorry, Anna. I know you’re only trying to help me, but … I can still feel their mouths on my skin.” She rubbed at the back of her neck as a wave of nausea rose in her stomach. “Their hands on my body. I can smell the blood on their breath. My blood. I just can’t do it.”

  “It’s okay. No one is going to force you to do anything. I promise.”

  Susie kept her back turned to her friend, partly wanting the protection of a blood link. The other part, the fragile part, suspected she would never again experience the warmth of someone’s touch, human or otherwise.

  “I’m really tired. If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to go to sleep.”

  Anna rose from the bed. She raised her hand and reached out to touch Susie’s shoulder, but when Susie flinched, she dropped it down by her side.

  “Sweet dreams,” she said as she opened the bedroom door. “If you get worried, we’ll be right outside.”

  As Anna closed the door behind her, Susie leaned her forehead on the paneled wood and whispered, “That’s part of the reason why I’m worried.”

  ****

  This must be the most boring man on the face of the earth.

  Allan Whittaker had left the meeting, stopped in at the hardware store, and returned home without incident. He spoke to no one, even his wife who met him at the front door with a hug. While she hugged, he stood motionless. Expressionless. A cold fish. No. A fish at least put some energy into swimming around. This guy made a sloth look lively. As the front door closed behind the oddly matched couple, Terry decided to call it a day. He stretched his arms out behind his head and yawned. Besides, he hadn’t slept at all the night before and the funky smell under his armpit reminded him that he hadn’t changed his clothes since the stakeout. A shower sounded pretty good about now. He pushed the ignition button and headed home.

  ****

  Singing at the top of his voice in the shower, Terry paused. Was that the phone? He listened intently. There it is again. The familiar ring tone of his mobile. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he jumped from the recess and ran into the bedroom, shaking the water from his hair as he dug into his jeans pocket, locating the phone just as the caller hung up. Fuck! Just when the day started off so great too. After eight hours of uninterrupted sleep and a steaming hot shower, his thoughts had been focused on a big café breakfast, not receiving a six AM call. He checked the caller ID and scratched his damp head. Why would the station be calling me? With a shrug, he pushed the “call back” button as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “Azure Waters’ police department. Officer Stone speaking.”

  “Adam. It’s Terry.”

  “Hey boss. I just tried calling you.”

  “I’m not your boss anymore, so Terry will do. What’s up?”

  “We had a murder last night. A woman was stabbed to death in her home. Thank God her kids were playing at a friend’s house, but they made the grisly discovery when they came home for dinner. The father is missing but his prints are all over the murder weapons.”

  “Weapons?”

  “Yeah”—Adam cleared his throat—“weapons as in plural. He used a machete and a knife. His bloody footprints are everywhere, Terry. I’m not exaggerating. Everywhere. I’ve never seen so much blood.”

  Terry steadied himself as the realization hit him. Still, he had to ask. Had to hope he was wrong. “What does this murder have to do with me?”

  “The kids found what’s left of their mother in her walk-in closet. She had a phone in one hand and a business card in the other. We think she was trying to call you. Possibly for help. The woman’s name was Janice Whittaker. Did you know her personally?”

  The droplets of water froze on his skin. “She is … was, a client.”

  Despite years of hardening his heart against the horrific crime scenes of his previous occupation, Terry felt sick to his stomach. I should have been there. I should have protected her.

  “Where is she, Adam?” he asked, grimacing at the tremble in his voice.

  “She’s in the morgue. We’re waiting for interstate family members to identify the body.”

  “The kids?”

  “Staying with children’s services until the relatives arrive. I think they’ll be in therapy for a while. A long, long while. How could someone do that to their own wife, knowing that the kids would discover the body?”

  A man who’s discovered that his wife is having him followed, that’s who. “Any leads on the suspect?”

  “None. It’s like he disappeared off the face of the earth.”

  Terry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know, Adam. I’ll head down to the morgue and identify the body. No point in putting the relatives through that too. I’ll call into the station on the way back. I kno
w you guys will have questions for me.”

  He hung up the phone without waiting for an answer. Whittaker must have spotted me. He closed his eyes and threaded his fingers through his still damp hair, digging the tips into his scalp before tugging at the roots. I’m so sorry I let you down, Janice. So sorry.

  ****

  “Detective Palmer? What are you doing here? I mean … were you expected?”

  “Damn.” Terry palmed his forehead as he realized his mistake. “I’m sorry, Susie. I totally forgot that they wouldn’t be about at this time of the day.”

  “Would you like me to give them a message?” the trembling woman asked between the crack in the chained door.

  He suspected that she thought the chain would protect her from intruders, but he knew better. A solid kick would break it with ease. Not that he was about to inform her of that. She already looked as though she might faint.

  “Nah.” He waved his hand in the negative. “I’m having a bad morning is all and just wanted to talk to someone. Meaghan is usually my ‘go to girl’ for a sympathetic ear. I guess that’s over now.” With a shrug of his shoulders, he turned to leave.

  “Wait!” the timid voice called to him. “I’m usually a good listener … that’s if you want to talk about it with me?”

  Terry paused. Meaghan had told him that Susie rarely spoke to anyone. It must have taken a great deal of courage to make that offer. How could he refuse?

  “That would be great … as long as you’re not busy.”

  She closed the door and unfastened the chain before opening it wide, although she cowered behind it. “Please, come in. I’ll put the coffee on.”

  As he made his way toward the kitchen, he glanced sideways at her oversized t-shirt and baggy tracksuit pants. They reminded him of the pajamas she’d worn the last time he had been to the mansion. A pale-blue scrunchie held her hair in a loose bun, drawing attention to her fresh, makeup-free complexion. Her bare feet pattered on the Italian tiles as she led him through the house. An untrained eye might assume she preferred this comfortable attire, but he’d seen this behavior before. Like the many female victims of abuse he’d interviewed over the years, she hid her curves beneath the loose-fitting clothes, hoping to lessen her appeal. As if that is possible. She would still look stunning, even if she wore a hessian potato sack. He wished he could tell her that without scaring her away.