The Collector (Emergence Book 1)

by Kelly Lynn Colby

  “You were coming to these meetings with him, and your husband thought there was something more going on?” Maybe I was wrong, but infidelity was a pretty good motive for killing someone. No wonder he looked so suspicious.

  “My demeanor definitely changed when Albert was around, and my husband, without any gifts of his own, sensed it. After how badly the first time went, I wasn’t eager to tell him the truth. I just kept denying. Until…”

  Belinda slid down the wall beside the window. The African woman joined her on the floor and offered the distraught Belinda a bottle of water.

  “You bought one of his pieces from the art show. I was there when your husband tried to return it.”

  “Thank you, Ademi.” Debra nodded, though her gaze stayed on Belinda. “You mean you were there the day my idiot husband lost his temper and then was arrested? He didn’t kill Albert. He can’t even discipline the dog when it has an accident on the floor. There’s no way he did… well, what was done to the Collector.”

  “Albert’s pieces? Can any of you sense the memories impressed upon them?” No one had mentioned that power.

  A curly haired woman who looked to be in her thirties with the roundness that comes with age raised her hand. “I’m Margaret Truman. I found a piece in an art gallery in Katy. It led me to his condo.”

  Debra tilted her head at Rodney, who still had his arms crossed. “Didn’t you find us through a piece?”

  He nodded. “A buddy of mine, with more money than sense, brought home a god-awful frame made of all kinds of garbage. I couldn’t walk into his house, because the damn thing screamed with memories.” His hands dropped to his lap. “But it led me to this group.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Flores leaned against a set of cabinets on the opposite wall where he could see into all of the partitioned spaces. Time to connect the dots. “Was George Martinez a member of this group?”

  “He was new,” Enrique answered. “I saw him perform a show and knew he was one of us. I gave him a post-it with the time and place. He’d only attended a couple meetings.”

  I didn’t need empathic abilities to see the angry tension in his muscles. “What about Amethyst Redmayne, the palm reader?”

  Belinda kicked her feet on the ground.

  Adam answered for her. “Amethyst wasn’t actually an empath. Belinda tried to tell the Collector, but he didn’t want to turn anyone away. Whether she had powers or not, Amethyst believed she did and obviously needed our group.”

  I couldn’t share everything. If I started, it would all come tumbling out and I’m not sure I could stand up again after being drained like that. “I have to warn you. I think someone is targeting you, I mean, us.” Okay, that was weird.

  Debra pushed her bangs out of her eyes in a casual move she probably did a hundred times a day. “That was our topic of discussion tonight. It’s too much to believe that all of this death is a mere coincidence.”

  Too much to believe? This entire scenario was too much to believe. “We’d noticed the connection too.” I motioned toward Flores, who stared at the HOA meeting on the other side of the barrier. “He’s a detective with HPD. He knows what I can do, and he believes me. Would you be willing to talk to him?”

  Belinda hid her head behind her knees.

  With a glance around at the lost souls the Collector had weaved together, I couldn’t let this monster tear them apart for his perverse pleasure. “We need to share all we know so we can catch this man before he targets another one of us.”

  Taking a deep breath to make sure I could stand without shaking, I gained my feet and motioned Flores into the room. His immediate reaction told me he’d been paying attention to me the entire time, even if his eyes had been focused on the other group. I wondered how much he’d overheard.

  Debra stood up and shook hands with the detective. “Detective Flores, it’s good to see you again, though not under these circumstances.”

  I marveled again over her ability to touch him without gloves and not be swept away out of control into someone else’s state of mind. Whatever method she used to keep herself centered was significantly stronger than the hymn I repeated. Maybe she could teach me.

  He tilted his head after taking out his phone for notes. “Why didn’t you tell me about this group, Debra? I could have protected you.”

  “Why would I think you’d believe me? Plus, at that time, it was only the Collector who was the victim, and as big of a loss as his death is to all of us, one death does not a pattern make.”

  “Fair point.” Flores acquiesced. “Have you seen anything suspicious: someone following you, odd friend requests, someone trying to get an invite to this meeting, anything at all out of the ordinary?”

  As Flores asked his questions, I backed up to where he’d been observing us. My tongue stuck to the top of my mouth. I remembered there was a water fountain near the entrance. As I walked past the HOA meeting, a guy in a red sports hat bumped into me. Fear poured from him in waves, tensing the muscles in my arms.

  “Excuse me,” I said, even though he ran into me.

  When he looked up, a flash of blue froze my muscles. I relaxed as I realized the blue was the rim of his glasses. His eyes were a nondescript hazel. But there was something familiar about him. “Do I know you?” My voice shook from the shock of the stranger’s touch and strong emotion.

  Flores must have had half an eye on me, because he was by my side before I could form another thought. “Can I help you, sir?”

  With a hand on the brim of his hat, the man shook his head as he dashed for the door, mumbling under his breath.

  Flores raised an eyebrow at me.

  My arms crossed my chest as I tried to discern where I’d seen the hat guy before. “It’s not the killer, but I’m sure I’ve seen him before. Recently.”

  Flores nodded at me and took after the man.

  I spared a glance at the group, the people who were like me. “Watch out for each other. We’ll get the guy. I promise.”

  Before I changed my mind and sat back down with the empaths, I jogged after Flores. At least I knew where I’d be every Friday from now on.

  I really wasn’t alone.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The door hadn’t closed all the way as I pushed through behind Flores. Around a large, brick wall bordering an outdoor patio, the streetlamps lit the full parking lot with an orange glow. Red Hat wove around a large vehicle and bumped right into Collins’s impressive bulk.

  Not expecting Flores to slow, I ran into his back. He caught me as I stumbled forward. I got a wisp of eagerness and determination. After he was sure I was stable, he removed his hands immediately. The absence of his touch left me feeling empty when he removed it. I didn’t even know I could have that kind of reaction. I’d probably been giving my friends the cold shoulder for too long. I don’t know why they put up with me at all.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, as we continued toward the red hat man who was bouncing on his toes looking at Collins then us.

  Collins had his jacket pulled up, exposing his holstered weapon on his belt. “This guy ran into me at a full clip. That’s assaulting an officer. Shall I handcuff him?”

  Red Hat’s eyes were as large as a bunny’s being hunted by a fox. He didn’t say a word.

  Flores moved behind him, in between a mini-van and a dark blue BMW. Red Hat would have to go over the hood of the smaller car to get away from them, and I doubted he’d have the agility before Collins snagged him.

  Flores’s quieter voice sounded much more reasonable than the gruff Collins. “I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm. If he can answer a few questions, we can clear this all up.”

  In my head, I could imagine the two of them playing good cop-bad cop, though I wasn’t sure it was an act at all.

  “I have nothing to say.” Red Hat’s voice surprised me with how high-pitched it was. Under the orange glow of the nighttime parking lot, I marveled at how young he looked. I bet he got carded whenever he went out for
a drink. His clothes looked like something Gina’s nephew would wear, athletic shorts and a loose T-shirt with trendy sneakers and ankle socks. Yet, I knew from our brush that he was no kid.

  “Do I know you?” I had to ask. The familiarity without context was driving me crazy. I really hoped he wasn’t some athlete I saw on TV or something, and my overworked brain placed him as someone I should know. Of course, at this point, I’d run into so many familiar people that I couldn’t place, I might have to call it my new curse. Apparently, I needed to pay more attention to the people I encounter.

  Red Hat shook his head, but didn’t quite look me in the eye. “I’m just going to go now. I haven’t done anything wrong, and you can’t hold me.”

  Collins and Flores exchanged a look I would have missed if I wasn’t so tuned in to every little action.

  Collins grabbed Red Hat by the elbow. “Not so fast, man. You assaulted an officer, and I’m going to have to take you in for questioning. You can’t just go around willy-nilly hitting cops.”

  “I didn’t hit you.” Red Hat’s cheeks brightened to the color of his cap.

  “Well, Flores here saw you. As did our civilian witness, right?”

  I crossed my arms and raised my chin in what I hoped was an accusing glare. Collins hadn’t always rubbed me the right way, but I was starting to see how his rough tactics could prove useful in a murder investigation.

  Red Hat sputtered but came up with no further objections. Collins cuffed him and stuck him in his back seat on the other side of the minivan.

  Flores took out his phone and pulled up the note taking app I’d grown accustomed to seeing reflected on his face. “I’ll question the HOA and see if they recognized him.”

  Collins opened his car door. “I’ll get his ID and search the records while I wait for a squad car to bring him in. Meet you at the station.”

  At the precinct, I observed the suspect from the same two-way mirror I’d watched the coach confess. I strained to place him. He wasn’t the guy with the stolen computer. What other young-looking guys had I come across lately?

  I poured some water and tried to distract myself as Collins and Flores questioned him.

  Collins put the man’s driver’s license flat on the table. “Gregory Willis, 415 Harrison Street, Tomball. Is this address still correct?”

  Even the name didn’t jog anything.

  Gregory nodded while his nose twitched. I couldn’t sense any emotions from this distance, but I could tell he was hiding something. What was I missing?

  Flores leaned against the table casually, like he was sharing a beer with the guy. “So, what were you doing at an HOA meeting for a neighborhood that’s not yours?”

  Gregory Willis wiped his hand across his nose. “My mom lives in that neighborhood. I was looking out for her interests.”

  “Really?” Collins imitated Gregory’s casual confidence by leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “You’re such a good son. I bet you frequently visit the neighborhood, don’t you? And help out the older group with errands and lawn maintenance.”

  Gregory loosened up and pushed his hat a little higher on his forehead. “As much as I can with work and family and such.”

  Flores looked at the mirror as he said, “Then how come none of those residents had ever seen you before?”

  “I don’t know. They’re old. How good is their eyesight?” Gregory leaned forward with a smile across his face as if he’d just gained the upper hand.

  I didn’t notice anything shift, but the detectives must have because they both stood up.

  “Let’s call my mom. She’ll verify.” He pulled his hat off with a twist of his left wrist and tossed it on the metal table. With his right hand, he combed through his bangs, spiking them up from their flattened position.

  My stomach lurched. I recognized that exact move—from an impression. Gregory had been younger, and he didn’t have the blue glasses. That’s why I couldn’t identify him right away. I banged on the glass. Flores looked through the mirror, then grabbed his door handle at the same time as I did mine.

  As I met Flores in the hallway, I had trouble catching my breath as the full extent of the scumbag they held in the interrogation room filled my emotions. “Do you have items from the Collector’s house?”

  “If you mean the stuff you tossed around his condo, yes. We brought them all into evidence when you found that ledger.” Flores stepped back as Collins opened the door to the interrogation room with a notebook in his hand. “We connected the numbers that were tagged on some of the items to multiple entries in the ledger, but we don’t know what it means.”

  “I need to see them. Your suspect is connected to one. That’s where I saw him before.”

  Flores’s gaze fell to my hands, but he addressed his partner. “Collins, Fauna and I are going to follow a hunch. Can you keep him occupied for a bit?”

  Collins waved the notebook. “I’ve got an old lady to call. I’m sure it could take much longer than expected.”

  Flores took off at a steady clip to a hallway that lead to a set of stairs. My thighs burned as we hit the last step of three flights. I wasn’t as fit as I thought I was. Maybe it was time to hit those machines included in my association fees.

  In an attempt to slow Flores down so I could catch my breath, I leaned on my knees, and asked, “What? No elevator?”

  Flores held a glass door open for me. “This way is quicker.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  My head felt so light, I almost forgot why we were here. Flores showed his badge and signed a sheet. The civilian behind the window buzzed a door into a back room. Flores waved me in before I had any time to think about where we were heading. The shelves and cardboard boxes looked straight out of Law and Order. It had to be the evidence room.

  Which meant, pieces of crimes—many of them violent and emotionally charged—sat in boxes on every shelf.

  “I don’t know if I should be in here.”

  “It’s okay. I vouched for you.”

  My steps became small, and my arms plastered against my chest. I didn’t want to accidentally touch anything and get overwhelmed by someone else’s trauma.

  When he saw my face, Flores stopped mid-step. “Are you okay?”

  Over the threshold, I glanced up at a cage separating us from the boxes of evidence. I could feel the hum I associated with Walter at this point, but it was subtle, like a buzzing fan. “If I can stay on this side of that cage, I’ll be fine.”

  “No problem. We’re not going in there at all.” Flores guided me to a table in one corner where uniformed officers were already laying out boxes and removing lids.

  My muscles relaxed as I realized I wouldn’t be within touching distance of every crime from the city of Houston.

  “Where do you want to start?” His complete openness at my ability filled me with confidence.

  Leaning over the first open box, I quickly dismissed those items. I didn’t remember touching any of them. By the third box, I started to doubt my own memory. “I was stupid drunk when I did this the first time.” I rubbed my forehead with my gloved hands. “I might have to touch everything again.”

  Flores accepted the ledger from one of the officers. “Before you go that far, can you remember anything from any of these items? We matched all the ones from the apartment with entries in the ledger, but we’re not sure what the letters stand for in these two columns or what the rest of these numbers are in these three columns.”

  With my eyes closed, I tried to see through the drunken anger of that evening. “They were all horrible memories. Pain and abuse and deceit and…”

  One of the boxes had the fountain pen I remembered holding. “Like this one, it was used to sign a will against the dying person’s wishes.”

  Flores pulled out the pen, saving me the action. He matched the number in the ledger. “I’ve got it here. There are multiple entries for the same item.” He flipped through a couple pages. “The dates look like it’s a onc
e a year entry.”

  “Payments?”

  Slowly, Flores cocked his head and looked at me. “You think the Collector was blackmailing these people?”

  “Why else would he keep these horrendous memories and a secret ledger?” I shifted to search the next box. “Not that any court of law is going to believe how he knew about the criminal’s misdeeds.”

  Flores leaned over the ledger. “People have been murdered for far less.”

  Sticking out of the final box were two rounded, fluffy ears. Without touching it, the memory of a terrified little girl clutching the teddy bear flooded my senses. That was it. That was how I knew him. The hat flip and the bangs straightening all matched. Gregory Willis had molested a little girl, and Albert had made him pay.

  Hesitant to touch it again, I pointed instead. “That’s it. That teddy bear. He’s on it, but it’s not his memory. He did unspeakable things to a little girl. Based on his comfort level in the remnant, it wasn’t a one-time thing.”

  As Flores pulled the teddy bear from the evidence box, his hand trembled as if he could feel the pain woven into the fabric like I could.

  I brushed a tear from my cheek. “My vision doesn’t offer much evidence.”

  He closed the ledger and tucked it under his arm. “It’s enough to get a confession.” His emotionally heavy voice gave me hope in a happy ending.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  From the dark side of the two-way mirror, my attention remained transfixed on Flores as he stormed into the interrogation room. Without asking a single question, Flores set down a cardboard box, just like the evidence boxes. He pulled out the heavy ledger and dropped it on the table. Gregory jumped in his seat as if every tightly strung muscle sprung at the same time. Flores opened the book to a bright pink arrow Post-It, then he flipped the page to another, then another.

  So far, Flores hadn’t said a word.