by Wood, Lorena
He heard her scream “No!” and then a loud thud. He took the steps two and three at a time. “Shit! I was supposed to be taking care of her.” She was lying on the floor next to the couch. Was he supposed to leave her there? Did she say not to touch her? He bent over as low as possible to listen for her breathing. Good, she was breathing. That must mean her heart was still beating. Now what? He sat watching her for two full minutes and decided he had to call Hollerman. What kind of operation did they run? He didn’t know how to take care of her. If she was so talented, they should be guarding her with an army. Just as he was opening his phone he heard her moan. He bent down and listened.
“Are you all right?” he whispered? “Can I help you up?”
“Umnnn. Ohhh.” He could see tears rolling down her face. He tentatively placed his hand on her arm and she didn’t acknowledge him. He slowly lifted her onto the couch and smoothed the hair back from her face. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment and then closed.
“Sleep,” she whispered. “Just let me sleep.”
Nick left her and moved to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and downed four ibuprofen in one gulp. There, now his headache would get some relief. If only he had something for his nerves. He patted his pocket for the cigarettes. He never smoked in the house. He hated that stale smoke smell you could never get out of the rooms. He peeked in on Whitney and, when he was sure she was still breathing, he quietly slipped out the kitchen door. He stood on the back steps so he could see her on the couch. She looked so peaceful now. He wondered if she could hear his thoughts even as she slept. Probably not. How could she ever get rest if that could happen?
He took a long drag and sat down on the steps. It was only two in the afternoon and he wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a week. The steps were so hot from the afternoon sun that his legs were burning. He stood up and field stripped the cigarette. He tossed the butt into the bushes. It still tasted nasty and made his head spin. If he kept this up he was going to have to dig out some of his ashtrays that were hidden away. He stepped back in the kitchen and decided to make some sandwiches. She would probably be hungry again when she woke. Maybe a full stomach would help his nerves.
* * * *
Whitney opened her eyes only to shut them quickly again. The sun was glaring through the window over her head. She sat up and took a cleansing breath. She did tend to shut down after the first impact of a crime scene, but not when she reviewed it. This case was going to test her limits. She stretched and lifted herself off the couch. Her head hurt but the smell of coffee in the kitchen kept her moving forward. She was hungry again. She wondered what kind of food a single guy had in his kitchen. He was in there worrying about her. She could feel it. No wonder she never had any lasting relationships. Who would want that kind of stress all the time? Thank goodness he was at least over his mood from this morning.
“I smell coffee.”
“Hey, you’re up. I made some sandwiches. Wow, looks like you hit your head a good one. Does it hurt?” His hand reached up to touch it before he could think. Whitney jumped back.
“Sorry. Should I be careful not to touch you right now?”
“No”, she laughed. “It just hurts. I’m actually not used to anyone fussing over me.”
“Can I touch it? Touch you?”
“Sure. I do have to tell you that touch does make it easier for me to…hear your thoughts.”
“I already guessed that. I could see you keeping yourself at a distance from everyone. Does it bother you if I happen to touch you?”
“No. Not really. As long as you don’t mind the intrusion into your privacy.”
“Okay then, tell me when it hurts.” He reached up and felt around the area that was starting to swell. When he finally touched right on the bump she took in a sharp breath.
“Do you feel dizzy or nauseous?”
She shook her head no.
“Should we take you to get an x-ray and make sure you don’t have a concussion?”
“No, I’m fine. I’m just hungry. What’s for lunch?”
He turned and brought the tray around from the counter. “BLT’s and chips.”
“And coffee. Perfect. Thanks so much.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and added lots of cream and sugar. Nick enjoyed watching her savor the sandwich.
“Do you always enjoy eating this much? You don’t look like you could eat like this all the time. I saw how much sugar you put in that coffee.”
“Are you saying I eat too much?”
“No.”
“I have a very fast metabolism, especially when I’m absorbing so much energy from other people. I suppose if I stayed secluded in my house for a long time I’d probably get fat. I don’t think I’d lose my appetite for food though. It’s one of my favorite hobbies.” She laughed and popped the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth.
He watched her lick her fingers fascinated with her ability to make eating such an event. When he realized he was staring at her, he jumped up and started clearing the table. Whitney could see his discomfort. She knew what he was thinking and decided to push a little further. She enjoyed seeing the macho detective squirm when he thought about her. It kept her mind off the terrible images that threatened to take her sanity.
“Are you saying I am skinny?” She sucked in her stomach and ran her hands down it.
“No. No. I’m not saying that.” He turned to rinse the dishes. “You are …”
“Yes?”
“You are not skinny, not fat. You are…” He turned to look at her and realized she was teasing him. His shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “You’re just perfect. Now stop teasing me unless you are as good at taking it as you are at giving it.”
“I can’t really stop. Then I would have to think about the other things in my life. I like to distract myself sometimes with a little humor. You know what my friends call me?”
“What?”
“Whit.”
When he looked at her like it was totally obvious she laughed. “It’s the way they say it. Yes, it’s short for Whitney, but they say it like an insult at times referring to my sarcastic wit. Sometimes I can really get on their nerves. My Dad was really sarcastic and I guess I got it from him.”
“Cool. Know what my friends call me?”
“What?”
“I’m not gonna tell ya.”
“Too late. You thought it.”
“Geesh. This is going to take get used to,” he said turning back to the sink.
“Nicky Nail-her? You must have some reputation with the girls. I’d better watch myself.” She walked away laughing at the blush creeping up his face. She could tell he hated the name, but his buddies loved to watch him react so they used it quite often.
Whitney walked back out to the porch and couldn’t help hearing him stressing about his reputation. He was thinking that it didn’t really fit. He wasn’t really a ladies’ man. He couldn’t seem to do the casual dating thing, but he had never been successful in long term relationships either. It just seemed easier to avoid women. His friends thought it was funny because he always had someone chasing him. They wanted to see him take on some of the ladies that flirted with him, so they kept encouraging him to ‘Nail-her’. He really hated it when they would ask, “When you gonna Nail-her, Naylor?”
She was glad that he wasn’t involved with anyone right now. Since they would be working closely, she would have been exposed to all the sordid details on his mind. “Thank goodness he’s a loner like me. Now if we can just keep our minds on the job, and off of each other.”
Chapter 3
Whitney saw Nick stiffen and heard a car pulling into the gravel driveway. His reaction made her on edge until she realized he was hoping it was Hollerman. He was still nervous being responsible for her safety. The cop could face down a crazed gunman, but taking care of a psychic lady whose heart tended to stop scared the crap out of him.
“Stay here. I’ll go see who it is,” Nick said glancing out the window. Two minutes lat
er Teddy walked into the room, a big smile on his face and a bag of donuts in his hand.
“Is everyone doing alright here?” He looked back and forth between Whitney and Nick. “Whitney, you’re looking much better than last time I saw you. Well, except for the bump on the head. Nick been a little too rough?”
“Very funny,” Nick said glaring.
Nick didn’t like seeing him so comfortable with Whitney. Why wasn’t he nervous about the mind reading thing? Maybe because he wasn’t thinking of getting her clothes off? Nick realized that thought made him feel better. Where had that come from? He had no right to feel so possessive of her. He tried to convince himself it was because her safety was his new assignment.
Shaking it off he gave a fake laugh. “I’m just an innocent bystander.” Nick headed back to the kitchen and they both followed.
“So good to see you again Teddy,” Whitney said, meaning it. She liked his energy. “I guess I fainted and fell on my head. Did I mention that I am accident prone?”
Teddy grinned at her as he grabbed a cup of coffee. “Just let me know what I can do to help. Wouldn’t want that pretty little head to suffer any more damage.”
Teddy and Whitney both eagerly searched through the donuts for their favorites.
“So tell me what’s been happening at the station. Any news?” Nick leaned on the counter and watched them find their choice of donut.
“Well, I stopped back there after court and the place was like an oven. The AC was finally fixed, but everyone was jammed around the air vents waiting for some relief. Agent Hollerman has most of his men out digging up all they can on each of the boys. They have a command center setup and computer geek working on compiling all the data. Oh, by the way Nick, the perp from the ASU rape confessed. He’s claiming temporary insanity based on an overdose of Ecstasy.”
“At least the Carter girl won’t have to take the stand and face it all again in a courtroom. Did he admit he was dealing with Bobby?”
Whitney could see that they had other business to discuss, so she walked back to the other room. She sat down and started entering her notes into the laptop. About thirty minutes later Nick and Teddy came in to see how she was doing. She could see that Nick had relaxed now that life seemed a little normal again.
“Hey guys, did they recover the boys shoes from the cave?”
Nick and Teddy looked at each other and shrugged. “Not sure,” said Teddy.
“Well, he was abducted near his home playing outside, and when he was killed he only had his socks on. I was just wondering what condition his shoes were in. I didn’t see anything in the files about it. Did the other boys have all their clothing on?”
“Let me call Hollerman and have someone check on it”. Nick punched in the number and started talking in low tones. Whitney noticed his expression change. He was on the phone for a while, and came back with a perplexed look on his face.
“Well, they have come up with some weird stuff. Whitney, you were right. All the boys were recovered with everything except their shoes. They had all been wearing some kind of athletic shoe, and it never turned up. They think that our unsub is keeping them to remember each victim. That’s a common thing with serial killers. He probably has them stashed away somewhere, and he checks on them from time to time.”
“But listen to this. They all played on teams associated with the SVWC. That’s the Sun Valley Winners Circle. It’s a valley wide group that started about twelve years ago. A group of parents that sent their kids to the Boys and Girls clubs decided they wanted to encourage excellence in sports to give the kids a chance to build self-esteem. It started with the lower income kids, but then the other parents started to see the great results and everyone wanted to join. They groom the kids toward professional sports from a young age, like you’d train an Olympic champion.”
Nick was reading from his notebook as he paced the room. “Some of the ones that started as teenagers have actually made it to professional teams. The starting age is six, and once you’re in college or out of school you’re no longer eligible. They play games all over the valley and they have scouts visiting all the time. There’s a game here in Gilbert tonight. It’s T-ball with the little guys. They’re having a party later to celebrate the latest success. A young man just made it onto the Diamondbacks here in Arizona. Many of the founding parents will be there. We’re supposed to cover that event since we are in the area.”
“Let’s go,” said Teddy. “Whitney, you coming?”
“Is that okay?” she asked looking at Nick. “I’ll sit in the car if I get too tired. I don’t always do well in big groups like that.”
Nick’s brows furrowed in worry. “If you aren’t up to it, you can stay here. One of us can stay with you and the other one can go check it out.” His hand came up to touch her shoulder.
She shied away from the touch. “I know you’ll have more success with extra eyes checking the crowd. I’d like to give it a try. Really, I can just stay in the car if I don’t feel good.”
On the drive there Nick couldn’t stop wondering. Finally he spoke up. “I have a question.”
“I know.”
“Very funny.”
“Well, I do. You want to know if I can identify the killer by hearing his thoughts in the crowd.”
“See, you know what I’m thinking. Won’t you be able to catch the guy if you get close?”
“Well, there are so many factors. There is a chance that could happen, but not a great chance. First, I would have to get close enough, and there will be so many people and vibrations around I won’t know where it’s coming from. Next, the person can’t be able to block me. I forgot to mention earlier that some kinds of mental illness are very hard to read. I am guessing that could be the case with this guy. Third, he would have to be there tonight, at this specific game.”
“So you could do it!” Nick said punching his fist into the air.
Whitney paused, and then laughed. She liked his humor. It fit in perfectly with her own crazy view of the world. He was smiling at the moment, but she could feel his tension, hear his worries. He was worrying about her, the case, the kids, and in the back of it all was his pain. He had failed before; he didn’t want to fail again. It was like he was shouting it out at her.
“I have to keep her safe. Gotta find this guy fast. What if I can’t? How many more will die? What’s motivating this guy? I’m dog-tired. Don’t let yourself care so much Naylor. It could happen again. You won’t be ready and someone else will die.”
Whitney could sense that he carried around a lot of pain from the past. He blamed himself for something. He was a cop. Cops are faced with situations all the time, and cops can make mistakes. Mistakes could be hard to live with, she knew that. She had tried and failed in the past, and the faces of the victims still haunted her.
They pulled into a dusty parking lot next to a school. She couldn’t believe so many people would weather this heat to watch a game of T-ball. This was one dedicated group. It was the end of the school year in Arizona so this was probably an important game.
She could feel the tension in the air as they walked to the sidelines. People were sitting on chairs and blankets holding snacks and water bottles. Little children were running around laughing and the teams were getting ready to get on the field. They even had uniforms. They looked to be six or seven years old. Two boys were throwing the ball back and forth near where they sat.
“See if you can catch this after a bounce Todd!” The older boy threw it down hard and to the right. The little one ran and got behind it like he knew exactly what to do.
“Good job Todd! Now wait while I move back a little and see if you can get it to me.”
The boy had an amazing arm. She could feel the pride of the parents around her, and their desire to see their kids excel in this game. There were important people here today. The donations from these individuals kept the SVWC going. She allowed herself to be open to all the energy around her. It was hard to feel all the emotions,
thoughts, regrets and hidden secrets that people carry around. Normally, she kept up a shield in a situation like this, or avoided it. With all the activity, she didn’t detect anything out of the ordinary.
Nick and Teddy continually scanned the crowd for any sign of trouble. These parents didn’t realize yet that the murders were connected to their special group. It would come out eventually, but for today they were unaware. There was a booth setup at the edge of the parking lot with flyers and information about the SVWC. Many adults were talking and shaking hands. It looked like they were also accepting donations in one corner. Nick grabbed Whitney’s elbow and headed her that way.
“Let’s go see what that’s all about.”
Whitney smiled as a woman held out a flyer and welcomed her. “Do you two have a child interested in joining today?”
Whitney glanced at Nick and laughed nervously. “No, we just heard such great things about your organization that we had to come see for ourselves. I can’t believe that such small children can be so talented already. I don’t even think I can throw as far as some of them can.”
“We start when they are very young,” the woman said flashing the smile of a proud parent. “It’s important to expose the children to as many sports as possible to see what gifts they have. By the time they actually join us, they probably know if they love baseball, basketball, or every sport there is.” She laughed. “Some kids just excel at everything they try. My son Dillon is nine now, and he is so tall you would think he would be a basketball fanatic, but he just loves football so much. My name’s Sarah Parker. My husband’s one of the coaches. Well, enjoy the day. We have refreshments on the table, and we’re accepting donations in any size to help us keep going. The box is over by Ann Marie.”
She pointed to a tall, blonde woman in the corner. She was in the middle of a group that was laughing and looking like they all knew each other. Nick led them in that direction.