“Are you okay?” Steele asked, concern filling his features. She was too worn out to work out what he was really feeling after witnessing her reading. She wiped a hand over her wet face.
“Can you please grab me a cupcake from the dish on the counter?” Paige pointed vaguely towards the kitchen area. “Take one yourself, if you like.”
Steele rose to his feet and crossed the room. “Do you want a plate?”
“In the cupboard to the left of the cooker.” Paige dropped her head into her shaking hands. She should have thought to have something sweet on standby. She’d forgotten what this kind of work did to her body.
Steele returned and placed the cupcake in front of her. Paige pulled off some of the sweet, vanilla sponge complete with frosting, and stuffed it into her mouth. She ate half of it before the shaking started to calm down.
“I had no idea it affected you this way.” Steele almost sounded apologetic, but Paige was sure he still wasn’t convinced that she wasn’t faking an elaborate performance.
She drew in a deep breath. “That was awful!” she choked out.
“Murder is, Miss Saunders.” Steele cleared his throat and leaned forward. “What did you see?”
Paige shuddered. “It’s not just what I see. It’s what I feel.” She clutched a hand to her heart. “I felt her fear, her pain. It was so hard to get past.” Her words caught on a sob.
“Details, Miss Saunders. Give me proper details.” His voice was hard and unyielding.
Paige sucked in a breath and wiped at her runny nose with the sleeve of her jumper. Slowly she detailed the horror of what she’d witnessed, between choking gasps and sobs. She stared into space, seeing it all again as she relayed piece by piece the horror of the young woman’s death.
Once she’d finished, she glanced at Steele. He stared at her in stunned silence. “Is that enough detail for you, Detective?” she bit out.
“Let’s say you definitely have my attention, Miss Saunders.” Steele ran a shaking hand through his hair. He blew out a breath, his face registering his shock. Finally, he drew himself together and said, “Did you get anything else? Anything that could give us clues to the killer’s identity?”
She almost laughed at the change in his attitude. It was always the same. Scepticism gave way to tentative, shocked belief. She hated always having to prove herself. This time was even worse. She hadn’t wanted to be involved, hadn’t wanted to have to prove herself to anyone ever again.
She sighed. “It was hard, but I managed to hold on to the images. I somehow caught a thread of the killer. Once I had, I was able to pick up some facts about him.”
“Go on.” Steele drew out his notebook and pen once more. He flipped to a clean page, his pen trembling slightly in his hand.
“It is definitely a man, but it’s strange. He hasn’t sexually assaulted these women and he has no desire to.” She stared at Steele, the horror of what she’d witnessed still dancing through her mind. “He is full of rage. So much anger. When he sees these women, he is beyond jealous.”
Steele frowned. “What do you mean?”
Paige shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “He has this uncontrollable urge to consume them.” She shuddered. “That’s why he does what he does. He drinks in their life and their essence. It gives him something beyond sex. It’s a total consuming of their whole being in his mind.”
Chapter Nine
“Are you sure?” Steele ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in several directions. It should have made him appear comical, but somehow on him it simply gave him that just out of bed sexy look. Her stomach fluttered in reaction. He was one extremely handsome man.
The observation annoyed Paige intensely. She squished the butterflies. She shouldn’t be noticing such things, especially with a man like Steele. She had no interest in romance, now or ever. Relationships just weren’t on the cards for her. No guy she’d ever met could live with her gift. She should know better by now.
She swallowed some coffee, shuddering at the almost completely cold liquid as it ran down her throat. Stay focused on the case. That was the smart thing to do. “Yes, I’m sure. He selects women with blonde hair, a good figure, and very feminine. It’s like when he sees them, it triggers this rage and jealousy. I’m not sure why. It could be they represent someone to him. Someone he couldn’t have and desperately wants.”
Steele blew out a breath. “Well, it explains the state of the bodies when we found them. But it isn’t giving me anything to go on to find this madman.”
Paige shook her head. “I know. Honestly, my gut still says the key is with Jean. She knew him. He was someone in her life.”
Steele tapped his pen against the notepad. “Would holding something that belonged to her give you anything? I could obtain something from her house.”
Paige bit her lip and set aside her cold coffee. “Not necessarily. Jean was very private. I could sense something was bothering her. That she was afraid and worried, but she kept the reason buried really deep inside.” She wrinkled her brow as she thought the problem through. “I think our best course of action is to question the people she knew. She said something about her family. Maybe her brother will bring something else to light.”
Steele rose to his feet. “I guess the best thing is for me to contact you when we are ready to question the brother.”
Paige sighed and climbed to her feet. “I don’t really have any choice, do I?”
“Not if we want to catch this killer.” Steele gathered his things together.
“So…………you believe I can help?” Paige lifted a brow in question.
Steele paused in his task. “Let’s just say you’ve convinced me enough to give this a really good shot.”
The sound of the front door banging closed echoed through the house. “Paige?” Jeremy’s voice almost shook the rafters. “What’s this I hear about Jean? Why the hell didn’t you call me? I had to hear the news from a customer!”
Steele raised a brow. Paige winced. “My housemate. He’s a good friend too.” She wasn’t sure why she was telling the detective that. It’s not like the man would really care and she refused to harbour any stupid romantic notions about him. Lifting her voice, she called out, “I’m in the kitchen.”
Jeremy strode into the room and came to a dead stop as his gaze fell on Detective Steele. “What’s going on?” he frowned.
“This is Detective Steele.” Paige held her hand out in a rather useless gesture. “He came to ask me some questions.”
Jeremy frowned as he shrugged out of his coat. “Questions? About Jean?” His gaze ran suspiciously over Steele. “Aren’t you supposed to be investigating the Hindleford Killer? You are the guy from TV, right?”
Steele glanced at Paige, a brow lifted in question. She wished she’d told him she liked to keep her gift a secret. What if he spilled the beans? Paige shifted uncomfortably on her feet. “He is investigating the Hindleford Killer.”
“Then why is he here?” Jeremy stalked over and threw his coat over the back of a chair. He stabbed a finger at Steele. “You need to be out there stopping this nut. Not here,” he waved a hand around, “doing I don’t know what.” His brow creased. “What are you doing here?”
Steele paused a moment, his gaze lingering on Paige. She could read in his face that he’d realised Jeremy knew nothing of Paige’s skills. He cleared his throat. “It would seem, according to a source of unexpected information, that Jean Holdbrook’s death and the Hindleford Killer are linked. I’m hoping this is the break I need to bring this animal to justice.”
Jeremy’s mouth dropped open. “What? How on Earth did you find that out?”
“I am not at liberty to say and I would appreciate it if you kept this information to yourself. The less the press know, the better.” Steele slipped his notebook and pen into the inside pocket of his jacket and picked up the folder he’d brought with him. He fixed a steely gaze on Jeremy. “I can count on your discretion?”
; Jeremy drew himself up to his full height and levelled an equally serious stare back at Steele. “Of course.”
Steele nodded his head. “Good.” He turned to Paige. “I’ll be in touch.”
Paige gave him a grateful smile. She was truly surprised he hadn’t blown her secret. “Shall I see you out?”
Steele shook his head. “I can find the front door. Thank you for your time.”
She watched as his broad back disappeared out of the kitchen. Jeremy’s head swivelled between her and the retreating Steele. “Why do I feel as though I’ve missed something?”
Paige shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”
She turned and picked up the mugs and her empty plate that still sat on the table. Carrying them to the sink, her mind rattled indecisively. Should she tell Jeremy the truth? Would he understand? Was she willing to risk the rejection? She just didn’t know for certain and until she did, she would have to remain quiet. This was not a decision she could leap into lightly.
“Wow, was that Detective Steele from the TV I just passed outside?” Beth’s voice carried from the hallway. Paige hadn’t even heard her arrive. “What the hell was he doing here?”
“That’s what I’ve been asking,” Jeremy’s gaze stayed firmly on Paige. His eyes were like two branding irons. “Apparently, Jean Holdbrook’s murder has something to do with the Hindleford Killer. It’s all very strange and mysterious.”
A shocked gasp reached their ears. “Jean’s dead? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“You are supposed to keep the information you heard here quiet!” Paige hissed.
“Beth isn’t press. She’s family,” Jeremy hissed back.
His statement gave Paige pause. “Family?” Her heart did a little flutter. “I didn’t know you felt that way about us.”
Jeremy shrugged. He opened his mouth to answer, but his jaw simply hung suspended in the air as he clapped sight of Beth as she entered the room. Gone was her lovely blonde locks. Instead, her head sported bright red tendrils that curled around her face, making her skin appear almost luminescent. She tugged at the strands, pulling a face.
“What do you think?” She wrinkled her nose. “Too bright?”
Jeremey sucked in a breath. “Put it this way, your head wouldn’t look out of place amongst a plate full of Chinese chicken wings.”
Paige poked him in the ribs, then turned her attention to Beth. “Wouldn’t a darker shade, say auburn, have been better?”
“I was stupid enough to allow a trainee to do my hair for me. I should have known better.” She gazed at them both. “I guess it’s not really all that important. It’s only hair. When all this is over, I can change it back. What’s this about Jean? Please tell me you weren’t serious.”
Paige sighed and filled her friends in on the details, leaving out her phone call to the police and Detective Hammond’s involvement. She wasn’t ready to divulge everything to them yet. Even if Jeremy considered her family, most of her own family hadn’t been able to accept her gift. She didn’t want to lose her friends. Not when she needed a stable environment around her if she was going to survive this case.
Beth shook her head, burying her hands in her bright hair. “This is awful. A nightmare. How could this happen in our own quiet little town? And they think the Hindleford Killer was responsible? But Jean wasn’t blonde. Were they wrong about that? Did I change my hair for nothing?”
Paige sighed. How could she explain in any way that would sound plausible? She turned back to the sink and rinsed out the dirty mugs. “All I know is that the police think Jean was killed by the murderer because he knew her.” She turned back around and picked up a tea towel.
Jeremy folded his arms across his chest and pinned Paige down with a deadly stare. “What I want to know is how they came to that conclusion. And why a detective came here to question you? You might employ the woman, but that’s all.”
Paige shrugged. “He thought she may have said something that could help him. You know, during the course of work people chat.”
“Did she?” Beth asked, her eyes wide.
Paige swallowed hard and stared down at her hands as she meticulously dried them. “She did, but I can’t tell you what. I’ve probably said more than I should. This is an ongoing investigation. Can we please drop the subject now? I’ve had the worst day ever.”
Jeremy immediately looked contrite. “I’m sorry.” He marched over and hugged her tight. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. You looked as white as a sheet when I came home. The atmosphere in here was strange and things seemed odd between you and that detective. I thought something else might be going on.”
Beth came over and joined the hug. “Just remember we’re a team, guys. Who else will support us if we don’t support each other?”
Paige hugged them back fiercely, the tea towel gripped in one hand. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes, but she blinked them away. A sigh escaped her lips. “Thank you both. Everything is okay, or as much as it can be under the circumstances.”
Paige pulled back and moved to dry up the mugs and put them away. “What are you going to do about the café?” Beth asked softly. “Jean was full time wasn’t she? That’s a lot of hours to cover. Do you have anyone to help you tomorrow? Are you even going to open tomorrow?”
Paige ran a hand through her hair. “I’m not sure. Is it insensitive to stay open? I don’t know what the right thing is in this situation.”
“You can’t afford to stay closed,” Jeremy observed.
“Why not open and make it a place people can gather to pay their respects,” Beth suggested. “You could put a book out for people to put messages in or something. Everyone needs a place to go to express their shock and to be together.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” Paige mused.
“But what about staff?” Jeremy asked. “Not to be insensitive, but as Beth pointed out earlier, Jean was your only full timer. Can anyone cover her?”
“Actually, I may have someone.” Paige reached into her pocket and drew out Louisa’s number. “I’ll give her a call and see if she can start tomorrow.”
Chapter Ten
The café was ridiculously busy the next couple of days after Jean’s death. It seemed as if everyone in town had taken root in the building during opening hours. Paige was sure it was because they all assumed if any gossip was to be heard, it would be here.
Paige glanced at the book she’d set up in a corner, as she cleaned the coffee machine at the end of another busy day. It had filled with messages for Jean in a very short space of time. She had no idea who the book would go to. Jean’s brother, perhaps? She didn’t really know, but it seemed the book was helping the community to come to terms with the tragedy and that was what really mattered.
Louisa bustled around the tables, clearing them quickly and efficiently. Mandy swept circles around her with the broom, the two giggling together like old friends. Louisa was already settling in nicely. She and Mandy seemed to get along really well. Mandy was starting to come out of her shell and it turned out she was much better at her job than Jean had credited her. Paige suspected the older woman had intimidated the young girl rather a lot.
Paige’s heart squeezed as guilt flooded over her. Jean wasn’t even gone a week. She felt bad, but the truth was the working atmosphere had improved enormously with the change in staff. Jean had never been the easiest person to like, but Paige still felt she ought to be missed. It didn’t seem right otherwise.
“Are you okay, Miss Saunders?” Louisa’s soft voice reached her and she glanced up to see the girl staring at her with concern. Something in her expression must have shown her thoughts.
“I’m fine.” Paige attempted a smile, but wasn’t sure she was successful judging by the expression on Louisa’s face. “It’s just still so……….hard.”
The girl bobbed her head, running a cloth over the table. “I understand.” She bit her lip, her brow creasing. “You know, I think we could all do with something to
look forward to. Something to plan or put our minds on. It might help with the upset over recent events.”
Paige flushed the nozzles as she contemplated Louisa’s words. “I take it you have something in mind?” She smiled. “It doesn’t sound like an idea that just popped into your head.”
Louisa gave a wry laugh. “You’ve got me there. It’s just………I had an idea. I wasn’t sure it was right to share it right now, what with everything going on, but seeing as you’re still so sad and everyone is so down, I thought maybe I should.”
Paige paused in her cleaning. “Oh? What kind of idea?”
Louisa brought the dirty dishes to the counter. “I was thinking how great your cakes are. You are a true master baker, but you could do more with your skills. You know, have some fun.”
“Well, thank you for the compliment, but I’m not sure what you mean.” Paige cocked an eyebrow, confused.
“We could experiment with some smaller, fancier cakes and put on an afternoon tea every now and then as a special event.” Louisa clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling.
Mandy squealed from behind her. She bounced to the counter, her broom still clutched in her hands. “Oh, what a great idea!” she said enthusiastically, swiping at a stray strand of her blonde hair that tickled the side of her face. “We could advertise it. Maybe now you would allow me to create a website for you. I could do a fab page on the afternoon tea event!”
Mandy was taking a course on web design and computer graphics. She hoped to one day enter into advertising and had been pestering Paige about letting her create a website for the café for the past few months. Paige hadn’t seen the need for one, but maybe it could be good for business.
Louisa bobbed her head up and down in agreement. “That would be marvellous. I think it would go down a storm if we advertise it well in advance. We could make pretty posters and leaflets too. Do you think you could design those?”
The Hindleford Killer (The Psychic Eye Mysteries Book 1) Page 6