by Dale Mayer
Then again he’s going to kill you anyway and this is my chance to clear the air, her mother said in such a matter of fact tone Tavika was shocked.
“Did you ever care about me? Even now this isn’t about saving me as much as it’s about clearing the guilt off your shoulders.”
I have nothing to feel guilty about, her mother cried. He’s twisted. There’s something wrong inside of him.
“Maybe so but he’s killed over fifty people! People that had as much right to live a normal life as any of us.”
Well I couldn’t have a normal life anymore, so why should I care?
Dumbfounded, Tavika stared at her mother’s ghost. And she realized another truth. Her mother was nothing but an insecure woman who’d used her abilities and the fame that came with it to stroke her ego so she could gain some sense of self-worth.
She was a sad, empty person who’d failed in every aspect of life. She was to be pitied. “Poor Bellamy and Travis,” Tavika said quietly. “They didn’t have to die. That’s the really sad part in all of this.”
I tried to save them. I tried to get him to kill you instead.
She said it in such a matter of fact voice it took Tavika a moment to digest it. Then it was like a physical jolt to the heart. Her stomach twisted as her mother continued her tirade.
But he wouldn’t listen. Said you were the only one worth saving. But even then he tortured you so he must have hated you too. Her mother shrugged. I should’ve listened to my gut in the first place.
The blows just kept coming. What was she to do with that statement?
Accept it and let it wash through you. Jericho’s warm voice caressed inside her heart chakra. She’s a lonely, misguided ghost. Let her be. Don’t listen to anything she has to say. You might want to consider that she’s as twisted as Barton is. That she manifested that in a completely different direction than he did. Maybe that’s where he got it from.
Certainly nothing she’d said here and now was stable. Tavika walked over to the window. Reaching up, she pulled down the plywood letting light in. The window was broken. It was easy enough to get out. Why would he make it that easy?
I don’t think it was something he planned. I think he was so focused on doing what he needed to he couldn’t think of all the details like you escaping. Think of everything we know him to have done. It’s all very simple. No elaborate plans. He leaves the bodies if they are home or he takes them back home where they belong. Why? Jericho asked.
Maybe because he didn’t have one. I’m going to find out. She ran her fingers through her hair. I’m going upstairs.
No. Wait.
Ignoring his protest she walked to the basement door and popped it open. The lock was old and broken. She studied the rest of the downstairs for a moment and realized there was a tape recorder on the table. She popped the tape and read the label. It was dated the day her family was taken hostage. Those screams she’d heard were real.
He’d taped his handiwork.
Dear God. Shoving all thoughts to the back of her head, she pocketed the tape and with her weapon ready, slipped up the stairs to the main floor – and the argument raging in the living room.
*
Jericho slammed into his body and raced to the back kitchen door. Damn Tavika. Was she ever going to learn?
I’m going to learn exactly what I need to finish this. Forever.
He crept through the kitchen to the living room. He could probably have screamed and shouted and no one would have cared.
“Barton, you said you’d never do this again?” Charles said in a horrified voice.
Barton sneered. “Sorry, Dad. You’ve always only listened to what you wanted to hear.”
“But Jesus, Barton, the FBI said they have connected you to something horrible, like fifty cases,” Henry cried, wringing his hands in distress.
Jericho studied Tavika’s half-brother. Barton appeared to have no weapon on him. Was that possible? Both Henry and Charles were quite likely to be carrying. Tavika definitely was. And he could see her at the edge of the hallway.
Damn, she looked good.
She stepped into the room, her weapon trained on Barton.
“Put your hands up,” she ordered.
Barton turned on her and in an instant his smirk turned to fury. “How did you get out of the ropes?” he cried out like a child upset she hadn’t played the game fairly.
“It wasn’t hard,” she said calmly, her gaze never leaving him. “Charles and Henry, move to his side.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Henry said. “We didn’t know.”
“You might not have known about the bulk of those fifty cases, but you sure as hell knew he slaughtered my family.”
Charles, his voice tremulous, said pleadingly, “But he had a psychotic episode. He’s not responsible for that. He just snapped. Your mother…” and he stopped.
“I know exactly who and what my mother was. I also now know exactly what my half-brother is. A murderer. He might have snapped that one day in my house, but killing someone in a fit of rage is not the same thing as keeping them captive for days to torture them at will.”
She glanced at Henry. “Were you the one trying to use my computer?
“No, that was me.” Barton laughed. “I used Henry’s login to access the cases early on then switched to using yours.”
A sick look washed over Henry’s face.
Jericho stepped into the room, several cops behind him now. They quickly surrounded the group in the living room.
“And I know you were both here that day. That’s why you rescued me, isn’t it, Henry? You knew I was there because you and Charles had arrived at the scene first. Why was that?”
“He called us. Told us he’d made your mother pay.” Charles was sobbing now as he held his hands out in front of him. “We didn’t know until we got here what he’d done.”
Jericho didn’t trust any of them.
“I had to help him,” Charles cried out. “He is my son. My only child.”
“And Travis? Did he not have a right to live? What about Bellamy?”
Barton laughed. “They were spawns of the devil,” he said. “They had to die. It’s only because you were normal that I let you live. The rest of those people – nasty.”
“And all the other people you killed?” Jericho asked. “Were they nasty too?”
“Some were. By then I had a taste for killing.” A crooked smile appeared on his face. “I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to. Then I was given the gift of love and an opportunity at a new life. A new beginning and I was going to have to stop killing. But the thing is, I was okay with that. Love does that to you.”
“You’re in love?” Tavika asked, her voice detached, calm.
Too calm, Jericho thought.
Barton beamed and his whole face transformed. “I am. He’s married but he’s leaving her for me. And we’ll be a family. He has twin daughters that will be mine. We’ll have a home of our own. And I’ll have a place to belong. Finally.”
Charles started to cry, Henry wrapped an arm around him.
A place to belong. Home. There it was. Everyone had one, and in his mind that was where everyone needed to be – in their own homes.
Jericho was stunned. Tavika was right – in such a horribly wrong way.
Charles stared at Barton in horror. “Does he know?”
“He?” Jericho asked. “Who is he?”
“Peters,” Tavika said in a broken voice. “One of the detectives on my team and a friend.”
Barton beamed. “Isn’t he lovely?”
There was an odd sound behind him. Jericho turned to see a man holding a weapon in front of him. It was aimed at the three men in the center of the room, but it was the stunned look on his face that gave a clue as to his identity.
“Peters?” Jericho said hazarding a guess.
And the gun fired.
Silence.
Slowly Barton dropped to the ground, the bullet hole a macabre addition to his
still smiling face.
Chapter 38
It was the wee hours of the morning before Tavika, Jericho on her heels, arrived back at her apartment.
They were exhausted.
Jericho opened his mouth to speak. She gently placed her finger across his lips and shook her head.
“Tomorrow,” she whispered. “Come to bed.”
She dropped her jacket, unhooked her holster and weapon and placed them carefully on top. She stared at the weapon for a long moment then turned her back on it. It took her less than a minute to shuck her clothes. He turned back the bedding and watched her collapse.
Solomon jumped up onto her back, his paws kneading her. And she didn’t care.
“Let’s cover her up first, big guy,” Jericho said. Tavika smiled as Solomon was lifted, blankets were thrown across her exhausted body, and then the cat gently replaced.
Solomon didn’t give a damn, he lay down on her back and never moved.
Hell, neither did she.
Not until a good six hours later.
When she woke up she was still tired and worn out, with sadness in her soul, yet peace in her heart.
And a nudge of her consciousness.
That little girl’s blue energy she’d thought was new at the house. That her mother had told her to forget about as she’d been there forever.
She should have listened to her mother. She’d been right all along.
And Tavika was stunned to realize how.
That energy was a young girl.
But it wasn’t a full spirit. It was bright because of the energy feeding it. It was, however, a partial spirit. From someone who’d been disconnected from her childhood.
Now she understood why she’d fought to not open that time of her life. Why she didn’t have access to it. She’d disconnected from it.
That little girl was her.
And I’ll love her as much as I love you. We just have to help you reconnect, Jericho murmured.
Tavika shuddered as the incredible concept fluttered through her. How was such a thing possible?
Just like Anna, you went away. But when you came back you could only handle part of your experience and in a desperate move you left part of it – you – behind.
She closed her eyes, tears burning at the corner. She couldn’t even begin to contemplate how cold and alone that part of her felt all these years.
Yet you can welcome her back to the fold, and you’ll never feel separated from life again.
And she realized it really was that simple. She’d been actually separated. Disconnected at the most elemental levels possible.
Unbelievable.
And yet fixable.
It was so damn terrible and such a waste of what could have been glorious lives. All for what? A sense of revenge? She didn’t even know what set him off originally – except her mother’s wicked tongue.
And that had been bad enough.
As for Charles and Henry…it wasn’t going to be good. They’d known what Barton had done and covered it up, enabled him to avoid paying for his crimes. They’d had him put on medication, even hospitalizing him at one point. They’d constantly monitored the case, probably having a heart attack this last week as things blew up.
But the bottom line was they’d harbored a criminal, obstructed a case, and who knew what else they’d be charged with. And through it all Barton had kept killing.
And Peters? That was tough yet again.
There was no way to hide what he’d done. He’d shot Barton in cold blood. Unarmed and standing as part of a group – shocked by what he’d heard, Peters had put Barton down in a fit of his own rage.
That was not going to end well either.
As for her, well, she’d laid her ghosts to rest. She hoped to have Stefan’s help to get her mother and sister to cross over. She had mixed feelings about the woman who gave birth to her, but the fact remained she was stuck on this side and she shouldn’t be.
Then there was Travis…
He hadn’t called. She didn’t know if he was still here or not. She’d be happy for his sake if he could finally move on, but she’d miss him.
Jericho’s arm tightened around her belly, his fingers sliding up to cup her breast. She smiled and covered his hand with her own.
“You should be sleeping, not worrying about these heavy thoughts,” he murmured.
“Lots to think about.” She snuggled closer to him. She had no idea what brought Jericho into her life, but she was damn grateful. She’d do anything to stop him from disappearing as suddenly as he’d appeared in her life.
I’m not planning on going anywhere, he whispered in her mind. Although we really could use a bigger apartment. Unless you didn’t hear me earlier.
She gasped, remembering what he’d said a few moments ago. Did you mean it?
Unless you don’t want me to.
She could hear the note of vulnerability in his voice. A matching note she held in her heart. I want you to love me. As I am falling in love with you, she admitted. I just didn’t recognize the emotion for what it was.
We’re a hell of a pair, aren’t we?
You just want me to help you get through doors, she said with a smirk.
Actually I’d like you to teach me how to do that. And if possible I’d love to take a trip into the abyss.
Oh, she said in surprise. I might be able to do that. And in exchange you can teach me how to cook, she said wistfully. I’ve been in that kitchen many times and never did it offer me anything as good tasting as you did.
He froze, then he chuckled. He brushed the back of her neck with his lips. Done. Does that mean we’re going to live together?
I wasn’t planning on changing the living arrangements right now. Were you? She asked cautiously.
Nope. I’m right where I want to be.
She rolled over onto her back so she could see the truth in his eyes. And she smiled. Me too.
Heat flared into life in the back of his eyes. So maybe we should seal that deal with a kiss?
And he lowered his head.
Just as his lips touched hers, she whispered, I can get behind that.
He laughed and kissed her.
There was no need for words. Not at this point. With their minds already in sync, their hearts open to possibilities neither had ever thought to have, they let their bodies do the talking.
After all, they did it so well…
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading Into the Abyss! If you enjoyed my book, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave a review here.
Dear reader,
I love to hear from readers, and you can contact me at my website: www.dalemayer.com or at my Facebook author page. To be informed of new releases and special offers, sign up for my newsletter. And if you are interested in joining Dale Mayer’s Fan Club, here is the Facebook sign up page.
Cheers,
Dale Mayer
Thank you for reading Into the Abyss. The series continues with Seeds of Malice.
Seeds of Malice
Book 11 of Psychic Visions Series
Buy this book at Amazon.
Charged with murder. Betrayed by her lover. Shunned by her friends.
After being acquitted of the murder, botanist Fern Geller runs from her past to learn everything she can about poisonous plants. She ends up doing a six month contract at the Garden of Death before finding the answer she’s seeking…
When she returns to the same conservatory where she’d worked before, the new boss is missing and several other men are dead. Once again, all eyes turn her way.
FBI agent, London Behring hadn’t expected Fern to look like she does now. Ethereal. Gorgeous. Gentle. Why and how had she been a murder suspect? Even more intriguing, how had she been acquitted of all charges? And more mysteriously, she’d come back to the scene of the crime… at the perfect time to fall under suspicion – again.
What magic did she possess to walk away from such crimes? And how can he stay free of her
charms… a lure he’s finding impossible to resist.
Seeds of Malice
Book 11 of the Psychic Visions Series
Botanist Fern Geller pushed open the door to the conservatory and took a deep breath of fresh humid air.
She preferred to work outside when given a chance, but if that wasn’t an option she loved working here. She used to come on a regular basis, but that was before…
Outside there was a slight nip to the spring air. In contrast, this place was the moist tropics. She loved them both, but going from one to the other was a little rough. She stood in place and took several deep breaths, letting her lungs adjust to the shift in oxygen levels.
Loosening the top two buttons of her jacket, she strode through the main pathway toward the tour group ahead of her. The last thing she wanted to do was get embroiled in a multitude of questions that would come if she met the wrong people here, but she needed to know where the head of the department had hidden himself. It was a bit of a joke, but Reginald Drover preferred to hide away where no one could find him. A fascinating man to talk to, incredibly intelligent and extremely knowledgeable about his specialties, but the dispensing of that knowledge or offering of assistance was just not his forte.
How he managed to maintain his position was a mystery.
At least everyone else in the place was personable.
The tour stopped to look at the orchids, and she caught sight of the tour guide.
Brittany. Good. If she could catch Brittany’s eye she’d be able to help her. She stood in the back of the group and waited until Brittany’s glance landed on her. She smiled as Brittany’s face lit up. She was a good kid. She was in her second-year at the University, working on her own botany degree while helping out at the conservatory on a part-time basis. Excusing herself from the group for a moment, Brittany walked toward her.
“Hey, I didn’t realize you were back in town again.” Brittany opened her arms and hugged her. Stepping back she studied Fern’s face. “You don’t look too bad for someone who’s been working in the Garden of Death.”