The Forgotten

by Linda S. Prather

  “If it were me, I’d wait,” Jake said. “She’s dealing with enough already.”

  Loki shut down the email. “I booked us on a five o’clock return flight, so we should be back by eight tomorrow night unless we find a reason to stay.”

  Loki stood up and motioned for Karen to join her. “Jake can watch the baby. We’ll do the sketch in my bedroom. It’s quieter there.” She led the way down the hall and flipped on the light before closing the door behind them. “I guess I should have asked what you needed. Maybe the table in the kitchen would be better.”

  “This is fine.” Karen placed her bag on the bed and unpacked paper, pens, chalk, and a huge drawing tablet.

  Loki took the opportunity to study her. Karen resembled Teresa Nikolic enough that the two of them might be related, and they both had a British accent. “I thought you’d be using a computer.”

  “Sometimes it’s easier to draw what people have seen. Especially when they’re nervous.” She smiled at Loki. “And yes, Teresa and I are related, and we’re both British. We’re first cousins.”

  “Are you reading my mind?” Loki clasped her hands together. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that. You said you weren’t part of Wilkes’s team.”

  Karen picked up a pencil and the pad. “I’m not part of his team, at least not yet. I don’t exactly read minds, but part of profiling is the ability to sense what someone is feeling and sometimes what they’re thinking. It helps with the drawings too. Do you want to sit, or stand?”

  Loki sat on the edge of the bed a few feet from Karen. “So how do you know Jake?”

  “We worked a case together a few years ago. Cara and I hit it off, and the three of us stayed friends until I joined the FBI. After that our schedules were so different we sort of lost touch.” She dated the sheet of paper. “I need you to relax and close your eyes and then describe this guy, starting with the chin.”

  Loki’s stomach muscles clutched, and for a moment, she thought she was going to vomit. Describing him with her eyes open would have been bad enough, but with her eyes closed, his image would be more real, and more terrifying. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”

  “Most of the time it is,” Karen said, her voice gentle and encouraging. “Forget about the chin and tell me what you remember most. What feature struck you as the most expressive, or stuck in your mind.”

  “His eyes.” Loki shivered. “They were black, like the ones you see on TV when someone is possessed by a demon.” She heard the pencil moving across the paper as she continued. “If you could get past the creepiness, he was quite handsome, his face not round but not squared like a rugged guy.”

  “Eyebrows? Bushy or thin?”

  “Not bushy, but not thin. Black, like his hair. He looked professional. His hair wasn’t too short, but it wasn’t long, either.”

  “You’re doing great. How about the lips?”

  “Full, with even, white teeth. His skin was dark, as if he’d just tanned.”

  “And his hairline?”

  “He had on a cap. I’m not sure.”

  “Anything else strike you as odd?”

  Loki shivered. “His aura was black, and it pulsated around him like it had a life of its own. Evil is the only word I can think of to describe it. Pure evil.”

  “You did great, Loki. Care to take a look?”

  Loki opened her eyes and stared at the drawing, the shiver she’d felt earlier deepening as her eyes met his. “Damn, you’re good.”

  Karen packed up her supplies. “We’ll show this to Wilkes and the rest and see what they want to do with it.”

  “Aren’t we going to broadcast it?” Loki asked. “Surely the more people we have looking for him, the better chance we have of finding him.”

  Karen smiled sadly. “Unfortunately that isn’t always the case. If we had a better profile of him, more knowledge of his assets and ability to disappear, it would be simpler. Grace said he had several houses.” She shrugged. “We broadcast it and he has the means to go underground, we’ll never find him unless we get lucky and another girl somehow escapes his clutches.”

  “So why even do the sketch?”

  “Because now we know what he looks like. I’ll scan it in and email a copy to all of us on our cell phones. We can show it to the parents, the police who investigated, or anyone else we run into who might have had contact with this guy. Maybe one of them will remember something.”

  Loki twirled a lock of hair around her finger, contemplating Karen’s answer. She was right, of course, but Loki wished there were a quicker way. “This team of Wilkes’s, are they good? Does having a psychic work? Could she maybe help us?”

  Karen closed her case and set it on the floor next to her feet. “Most people are confused about what a psychic does. It’s not like they see the killer, know exactly where he is and what he’s going to do next. It’s more like jigsaw puzzles where the pieces are sort of images or feelings that have to be sorted into patterns and placed into slots until the puzzle is complete. At the moment, Catherine is pregnant and on leave. I’ve heard her psychic abilities are down, or perhaps gone.”

  “So everyone on his team has some type of psychic ability?”

  “It’s Wilkes’s theory everyone has some sort of psychic ability. In most cases it’s called instinct.”

  “So what about Wilkes? What’s his ability?”

  “He draws, much like I do, only in his case, he draws possible future events.”

  “So, how does he know when it’s real and when it isn’t?”

  “Some aspects of it are always real, but there are times when the outcome can be changed.” Karen suddenly found the bedspread extremely interesting as she ran her hand over the flowered pattern. “Or at least that’s what Wilkes says.”

  “And Teresa, what’s her part in all this?”

  “She’s more of a bodyguard on this mission.”

  “Why does he need a bodyguard?”

  Karen picked up her case and sketch pad, a light flush starting at the base of her neck. “I can’t tell you more, Loki. I’ve already said too much. I would like to know about your powers, if you don’t mind sharing them with me.”

  Loki was surprised but not shocked Wilkes had checked her out. “I’ve never thought about it as power. Like my ancestors, I sometimes have visions of things that have happened.” Loki shrugged. “There’s not a lot of power in seeing something that’s already transpired.”

  “The rumor was you communed with spirits. You could talk to them, see them, and hear them.”

  Loki studied Karen’s face, searching for some hidden agenda behind the comment, but the bluish-gray eyes were clear of deceit. “I’ve never seen them, I sense their presence, and sometimes I can hear them.”

  “Have you thought about trying here? Maybe the spirits could tell us something about this man that would help.”

  “I wouldn’t know where to start.” Loki stood. They weren’t aware of Grace’s ability to see and talk to the spirits, and she would have to be careful to make sure they didn’t find out.

  Karen rose. “There were three bodies buried on that creek bank. If it were me, I’d start there.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Loki cleaned the kitchen and listened to Jake pacing in the living room. Dadron and Jules had called it an early night, and Grace had gone to bed as soon as Wilkes and his team left. Something was bugging Jake big-time. If I wasn’t such a chicken, I’d go in there and ask him. She sighed and rubbed at a spot on the counter. Working with the FBI had probably reignited his desire to go back to law enforcement. It wasn’t that she minded so much, but when he’d mentioned staying here and farming, taking a few cases now and then, she’d been happy beyond belief. She would have had the best of both worlds. But then he said coming here was a mistake. How am I supposed to know what he wants if he won’t tell me?

  The pacing stopped, and she turned to find him staring at her from the kitchen door
way. “Worried you’re going to miss Bruiser?”

  “No, but I’ll feel better in the morning when they go back to the cabin. The killer may not know about it, but he knows about this place. They should be safer there.” He sat down at the table. “I need to talk to you about something.”

  Loki dried her hands on a towel and pasted a smile on her face. She’d known the talk would come eventually, but she’d hoped for a little more time to get used to the idea of living without him. “Okay.”

  “Wilkes showed me something I haven’t told you about, and I don’t want to start down that road.” Jake passed a pencil drawing across the table.

  Loki studied the picture depicting a woman who resembled her on the ground, with a man straddling her body and shoving a knife into her heart. She recognized the background rubble as the cabin on the creek. “When did he give you this?”

  “This morning, when we were outside.”

  Her hand shook as a chill washed over her and icy fingers closed over hers. It was real, and unless something changed, it was her future. She passed it to Jake and chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re starting to believe in stuff like this.”

  “Don’t play with me, Loki. I gave it to you because I know you do believe in stuff like this, and I also know you know when it’s real and when it isn’t. Let’s not start hiding things from each other. Tell me the truth. Is this real?”

  Loki loved Jake, and because she loved him, she wanted to protect him, but if she lied to him he would know it, and right now trust was the only thing they truly had between them. “Yes, it’s real.”

  Jake swallowed hard. “Wilkes says it’s possible to change it if we find him and take him out of the equation. I don’t think he’s in New York. Why don’t you go there and take Karen with you? I’ll stay behind in case he comes back.”

  “Because we’re a team, and I like Karen, but I don’t know her. I’m sure she’s good at her job, but I know I’m safe when you’ve got my back.” She held up the drawing. “Besides, if this is real, he isn’t going to do it here or in New York. It will be somewhere along the creek. I’ll stay away from the creek.”

  “I’m going to go for a quick walk around and make sure everything is quiet.”

  Loki continued to study the drawing after Jake left. Something bothered her about it. Something was missing. She felt the hand on her shoulder, smiled, and whispered, “It’s okay. I’ll never let him get this close to me.”

  “Who are you talking to?”

  Loki jerked around, startled to find Jake watching her. She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t even heard the door open and close. “How long have you been there?”

  “Long enough. Who were you talking to?”

  Loki hesitated, searched his face, which wasn’t cold and hard as she’d expected, and his eyes held no accusation, just curiosity. She folded the drawing and placed it in the center of the table. If they stayed here, she would have to tell him eventually. “My grandfather. He’s still here.”

  Jake crossed to the refrigerator. “I need a beer. You want one?”

  Loki shook her head.

  “When were you going to tell me?”

  She chuckled. “Never.”

  “So how does it work? I know about the vision thing, but I’m not sure about this ghost thing.”

  “Spirits, Jake, not ghosts.”

  He twisted off the top of the beer and took a long swig. “What’s the difference?”

  “We don’t have to do this. I know how you feel about my people’s beliefs.”

  “It’s not that, Loki.” He gazed out at the darkness of the forest, just beyond the kitchen window. “I should have told you this a long time ago.” He took another swig from the bottle. “It was my first year on the force, and a child was missing in freezing weather. The parents insisted on calling in their psychic and insisted we follow up on every screwed-up scenario she gave them. We wasted a lot of time looking in old warehouses miles from their home, and when we finally found him, he’d frozen to death in a shed less than a hundred feet from their back door. I decided right then and there I’d never listen to a psychic again.”

  “It’s not always real, Jake. And not everyone who claims to be psychic knows how to use it. I’m sorry you went through that, but thank you for sharing it with me. At least now I know it’s not me.” She swiped at a tear. “I can’t help who I am, and truthfully, I wouldn’t change even if I could. Not even for you.”

  “I don’t want you to change. We’re partners. If we’re going to work together, I need to know what you know. I may not be sensitive to it, and to be honest with you”—he laughed softly—“I have no desire to see ghosts or connect with spirits or have visions, but if they can help us, I’m all for it.”

  “A ghost is a memory. An impression left behind by years of energy in one place. A spirit is the inner shell of the body, or what we call the soul. Some for whatever reason decide to stay close to a loved one or a place they loved. In this case, Grandpa wants to be close to the house and his family, so he’s still here. Eventually he’ll join his spirit family.”

  Jake took another swig of beer and sat at the table. “I don’t think I can sleep. Tell me about your grandfather.”

  “Are you interested, or is this your way of saying you’re sorry for being an ass yesterday?”

  Jake grinned. “Consider it a little of both. You know pretty much everything about me, but I don’t know anything about your family except for Harry and what he’s shared.”

  “Grandpa was a storyteller. He would keep Dadron, Jules, and me sitting around a campfire for hours while he told the most amazing stories.”

  “What was your favorite?”

  Loki felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “His tales of his love for my grandmother. He was only eighteen the first time he saw her in town. She was fourteen. For him it was love at first sight, and he didn’t care what anyone thought about it. He courted her for four years while he worked, saved his money, and finally came up with a dowry my great-grandfather agreed to accept. Against the wishes of his family and my grandmother’s family, they married. Grandpa eventually bought this place, and he and Grandma lived here until she died when my mother was fifteen. Grandma taught Grandpa all the Choctaw ways, and he taught her to read and write. He never said it, but I know my mother broke his heart when she married my father and moved to the reservation.”

  “But he got you, Jules, and Dadron out of the deal.”

  Loki brushed away another tear. “Not until after my parents were killed. I was twelve, and Dadron and Jules were six. My father’s mother refused to allow us to see him. He went to court, spending a small fortune on lawyers to get the right to have us with him in the summer and a few weekends during the year. Those summers were some of my best memories. He taught me to use a knife, shoot a bow and arrow, which plants to use for healing, and all the things Grandma had taught him.”

  “So why didn’t you come here when you left the reservation?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I was afraid that being this close, my father’s family would never let me live my life the way I wanted to. Grandpa would have, but they wouldn’t. Maybe I was too young to realize what those years would mean to me now that he’s gone.”

  Jake tossed the empty bottle in the trash and retrieved another one from the refrigerator. “What do you think he’d want you to do with the farm?”

  “He’s happy I’m here. I think he wants me to stay.”

  “You should.”

  Damn him, he’s the only man I know who can become a total blank when he’s feeling something he doesn’t want to share.

  Jake chuckled. “You must be rubbing off on me.”

  Loki studied the tabletop, noting the small indentations from spoon fights between Dadron and Jules. “What do you mean?”

  He tipped the beer to his lips, took a long swig, and rubbed his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. “I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong.”

  “That’
s the beer talking. You don’t have a clue what I’m thinking.”

  “You think working with Wilkes will make me want to go back into law enforcement. I want to finish this case, protect Grace and Hope, and find this son of a bitch, but that’s it. The perfect future to me would be taking long walks in the forest with Bruiser. We’ll keep the private investigation office open, take the cases we want to take, and let Dadron and Jules handle the rest.” His gaze strayed around the room. “There’s some work here that needs to be done. That’s what I want to do, Loki.”

  Loki fought the urge to rush across the kitchen and throw herself into his arms. He wasn’t ready, but for the first time, she had hope that someday he would be. “We should get some rest. We’ll need to be up early in the morning.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Loki shifted in the seat, trying to relieve the pressure on her hips as the cab parked in front of the Grendale Police Department. I hope I can walk. My legs feel numb. The plane ride had been quiet, and for once she didn’t mind. Her talk with Karen had confirmed some of her suspicions about Wilkes. He wasn’t here just to find the killer. He was also checking her out as a possible member of his team. Karen hadn’t said that, but the implication was there behind her eyes. Even more disturbing were the times she’d caught Teresa staring at her, an odd expression on her face and sadness in her eyes. As if there was something she wanted to ask her but was afraid to. I hope she doesn’t think I do séances and can talk to her dead relatives. Once the spirits crossed over, the connection with this world was broken. At least for Loki it was broken, and she’d yet to find a so-called medium that was real. There might be some out there, but she hadn’t found them. Some chose not to cross, like her grandfather, but Loki knew that in time, he would go. She’d miss him, but she’d also be happy knowing he was finally reunited with her grandmother.

  Jake opened her door, interrupting her thoughts, and helped her out. “How do you want to handle this?”

  Loki stretched. “You’re the former police officer. They’re going to be more comfortable talking to you than me.”