Beyond the Shadows

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Beyond the Shadows Page 5

by LaVerne Clark


  Pulling at the tie holding her hair, she allowed it to spill over her shoulders. She massaged at her scalp in an effort to stop the stress headache she felt building. The tight band of pressure gradually relaxed and she sighed. Loathe to tie her hair back so tight again, she settled for piling it up in a loose knot on the top of her head. Once her hands had stopped shaking she started to unpack.

  After she’d found homes for the few possessions she’d brought, she eyed the doorway and took a deep breath. She couldn’t procrastinate any longer. Her appetite had fled in the charged exchange with Nate, but he needed the fuel to heal his body, and it would be good to have something to occupy her. Faking confidence, she walked swiftly towards the hub of the home and found Nate already in the kitchen perusing the fridge.

  “What are you doing? That’s my job. You’re supposed to be resting,” she scolded lightly.

  He straightened and peered over his shoulder at her, then shut the door. “Sorry.” He sent her a sheepish smile. “Force of habit. I am a bit weary, but I’m up to making a coffee if you’d like one.”

  “As long as it’s better than the hospital’s, I’d love one.”

  He grinned, wandered over to the pantry, and pulled out the coffee beans and grinder. “I’m a bit of a coffee snob, so I think you can safely say it won’t be any worse.”

  “Thank God,” she responded vehemently. “I’m still trying to get that crap out of my system.”

  He chuckled as he turned to grind the beans and Kelly’s stomach flipped as the low, male sound reverberated through her. She cursed inwardly at her reaction. Seeing his other side would only increase the attraction she held for him. Already, she feared it bordered on the emotion she knew he was incapable of returning.

  She pushed the uncomfortable thought to the back of her mind and pulled open the fridge. Blindly, she stood for a few seconds just enjoying the cool on her heated cheeks then she made an inventory and smiled wryly. Typical bachelor. Beer crowded the space, jostling a wedge of cheese and a few eggs for room. The vegetable crisper contained a few sad ingredients and a paper bag. Carefully unfolding the crumpled top, she held her breath and peered inside, nostrils pinched against any disgusting smell. When none rose up to greet her, she investigated further, pleased to see all it housed were a few mushrooms.

  “Do you have any potatoes and garlic?” she asked over her shoulder.

  Nate leaned his back against the counter and crossed his arms in a casual pose. His biceps flexed with the movement and her mouth went dry. Although she’d spent the last few days gazing at him in his hospital bed half-naked, his vitality added power to the play of muscles, making her yearn to touch, to learn the difference.

  “In the pantry,” he indicated beside her with a nod.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled, hoping he hadn’t noticed her gaze roaming over him in appreciation, but the twinkle in his eye and the lift of a dark eyebrow told her otherwise. He was a trained cop, used to picking up on body language. She needed to be more aware of what hers said around him.

  She chose a few potatoes and selected a bulb of garlic then turned to the counter, her back to the unnerving man. The heat of his gaze burned a hole through her shoulder blades.

  “What are you making?”

  “Frittata.”

  “That sounds exotic.”

  Kelly snorted and paused in the removal of skin from a couple of cloves to spare him a glance. “Hope you’re not too disappointed when I give it to you then. It’s basically a bulked-up omelet with a posh name.”

  The smell of coffee filled the room and the welcome sound of liquid being poured filled her with anticipation. Nate placed her cup beside her. His hand trembled slightly and she frowned.

  “Why don’t you go and sit down? Catch up on what’s been happening in the world while you’ve been in hospital,” she suggested lightly. His skin had taken on a gray hue under the natural tan, another sign he’d been overdoing it. She could do without him collapsing and having to drag him back to hospital.

  “Sounds like a good idea,” he agreed, his easy acceptance telling, and shuffled off into the next room leaving her to prepare their meal.

  Now that he’d gone, the air suddenly seemed lighter, the room bigger. Perhaps I’ll get through this week unscathed after all. The sound of leather creaking and a groan of pleasure sent shivers along her nerves making her skin prickle. Then again, perhaps not. With her mouth set in a grim line, Kelly took out her frustrations on the garlic and pounded it into paste.

  ****

  Nate dropped into his favorite armchair with a groan and flicked on the television to a news channel. Maybe, if he viewed enough images of all the awful things happening in the world, it could banish the one he held in his head of Kelly in that dress. That bloody infuriating dress.

  The whole car ride home, he’d been in hell. Every shift in gear twitched the material higher up her thighs, teasing him with glimpses of delectable flesh until he’d broken out into a sweat. He’d known the serviceable pants of her uniform hid a knockout pair, but the reality of seeing those slender, golden legs in all their glory blew his imagination out of the water.

  Within minutes, his eyelids grew heavy and he could no longer make sense of the flickering images on the screen. Switching off the television, he placed his coffee on the table in front of him and settled into the chair. The worn leather welcomed him into its embrace like an old friend. The sounds of industry in the kitchen faded as he gave himself over to oblivion.

  A strange sense of awareness slowly funneled through his tired brain and he groaned in exasperation. “Just let me sleep,” he mumbled, his cheek burrowing further into the leather.

  Why should you sleep when I can’t? You promised me justice.

  In the odd way dreams allow, Nate turned his head, not questioning why one of Scott Williams’ victims stood before him—exactly as she’d been when he’d viewed her at the murder scene. She’d been beautiful once, as all Williams’ victims had been. He didn’t need her presence to remind him of what had been done to her. Her broken appearance was seared into his brain for all eternity.

  Viewing Sarah’s body at the scene had lit a fire in Nate’s gut. Her resemblance to his sister, Thea was uncanny, from the clear pale skin to the tight red curls of her hair. The pain and helplessness rushed back to him in a flash. It had become personal.

  That day, Nate stared down into Sarah’s lidless blank gaze and promised her he’d do everything in his power to find her murderer. And he had.

  “Sarah,” he sighed. “I got the bastard. And he’s dead. You can be at peace now.”

  No! Her voice echoed through his skull, loud and adamant. He was not my killer, just some weirdo. He tried telling you, but your arrogance blinded you to the truth. Open your eyes, Constable O’Leary. Her ruined face hovered inches before his. There are more like me to find and more will join me unless you find the man responsible and stop him.

  Nate shook his head in denial.

  Yes, she continued relentlessly, her voice taking on a cruel edge. You’re responsible for the case being closed. It’s your fault girls are still being murdered. Deep down you know it. We won’t rest until you find him.

  “No,” he groaned, as her glowering face faded before him. He reached out to snag her arm to keep her in place, but his fingers closed on nothing. “No! It’s not true.”

  His head thrashed from side to side as his mind replayed the case in fast forward like a recurring nightmare. The case was routine. The photos they received anonymously confirmed that. Not only was there a photo of Scott Williams actively spying on the victim while she undressed, but another clearly showed his face. The coroner confirmed the victim had been killed that same night around the time the photos were taken.

  There couldn’t be a mistake.

  When they’d investigated further and confiscated William’s computer, the bizarre photos he’d taken of corpses in his care only confirmed what they all believed—he was the killer.

&nb
sp; After that, hard evidence proved elusive.

  They couldn’t have been handed a more perfect suspect. So when Nate didn’t look any further, it was because he’d been so sure they had the right man.

  The fact that William’s had been sloppy was his own downfall—nothing else. Maybe Nate jumped on what evidence they had, focusing solely on Williams, but no way in hell was he going to let another killer walk, or watch another family destroy itself with anger and grief.

  Helplessness, stunned disbelief, and all-consuming rage gripped him for years after his sister’s death and the subsequent joke of a court hearing. Long story short, Thea’s killer walked, resulting in his mother going to an early grave and his father into psychiatric care. Was it any wonder he’d become a hard-ass on the perpetrators of such crimes?

  He wanted to explain all that to Sarah, to understand why she would say such things.

  “Don’t go. Speak to me.” This time, his fingers found and tightened around warm flesh, surprising him. The dead were meant to be cold and insubstantial.

  “Nate.”

  The voice came from outside of himself this time. A voice no less urgent, but holding more warmth than the previous one in his head.

  “Nate! Wake up!”

  It was Kelly. Her voice cut through the fog of the dream and he followed it, surfacing like a man near drowned. Forcing his lids open, he blinked rapidly and gazed around at the familiar surroundings of his lounge for reassurance. Slowly, his breathing evened out and the deep, panicked draughts he’d been taking eased back into its normal rhythm. He focused on Kelly’s worried face and swallowed the last of the panic away. Thank God. It had just been a dream, no matter how real it seemed at the time.

  “Are you okay?

  She bent towards him, her blue eyes clouded with concern and his breathing hitched again. Belatedly, he realized he held her forearm in a death grip. He released her immediately and noted with horror the red finger marks he’d left on her skin.

  “I’m fine,” he replied gruffly. “Just a bad dream. Sorry about grabbing you like that.”

  She shrugged off his apology. “The Doc warned me you might have nightmares. You’ve been through a lot.” She paused and studied him, her eyes shrewd. He doubted her keen gaze had failed to note the fine sheen of sweat coating him like a second skin. “Dinner will be in ten minutes if you want to go and clean up first.”

  He ran a hand over his jaw and grimaced, wincing at the rasp of overgrown beard. “Good idea.” He pushed himself out of the chair and uttered an involuntary hiss of pain. Immediately, Kelly came to his side, her hand under his arm to steady him. He’d spent so long trying to forget how appealing he found her he forgot just how strong she was. The equal to most men, she was an Amazon of a woman.

  Once he stood upright, she held his gaze. “Don’t be too proud to ask for help, Nate. I’m here for whatever you need.”

  With her last words, the blood went straight to his groin, and his mind cluttered with dirty thoughts. Before the crude remark escaped from the tip of his tongue, she whirled and marched back to the kitchen as if she could read his mind, her rear setting the loose material of the dress to sway enticingly. His eyes narrowed. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear she’d done that on purpose.

  Sweat bloomed fresh on his forehead, and with a groan, he spun and stalked in the opposite direction towards the bathroom.

  Nate plugged the basin and filled it with warm water. Pulling out the razor and shaving cream from underneath the sink, he lathered up. His hand stilled upon sight of the image in the mirror. The stranger who stared back at him was unrecognizable.

  A thick beard covered a face made more angular with weight loss, the cheekbones more prominent. His mouth looked the same, set in its usual grim line, but his eyes had changed. He leaned closer, peering intently into the green orbs to work out exactly why. The shape hadn’t altered, and they were still fringed by the long, dark lashes he’d hated so much as a boy. They’d caused him a fight or two during his early teens until his ferocity and downright dirtiness earned him grudging respect from his peers. But the girls were a different story. His mouth tugged up at the memory of their reaction to him during those same years. They thought him soulful and mysterious. He’d seen no reason to disillusion them, especially once he realized one look could charm the pants off any girl that took his fancy.

  Older and wiser now, he’d reformed from his bachelor years and immersed himself in police-work. Seeing the worst humanity had to offer, day to day, had a way of hardening soft edges. The murder of his sister obliterated the stubborn ones completely, leaving him an empty, jagged shell. The frown between his brows had become permanent. Tragedy had shaped him into a man most people instinctively kept at a distance, a man formed of hard edges, a man even he didn’t like.

  And then he realized what had changed. A hint of warmth reflected in his gaze, a spark of life, where before there had been only the, don’t screw with me, cold-eyed stare. Not wanting to dwell on the cause, he turned his attention back to ridding his face of bristles.

  Swishing the blade through the water, Nate stretched his chin and bit by bit, revealed the man beneath the mask. A new man emerged and he smiled at the imagery, wondering if he could live up to it. A cool breeze touched his newly naked cheek with a feathery touch, and he turned his head.

  “Jesus Christ!” The hand holding the blade on the edge of his jaw jerked sharply. The nick stung, but not nearly as much as the shock at seeing what stood beside him.

  Not Jesus. Just me.

  His sister, Thea, stood beside him, the crooked grin he’d missed like hell on her translucent lips. Tears blinded him as he gazed at her, afraid to blink in case she disappeared as abruptly as she’d appeared. Blood from the cut trickled down his neck but he ignored it, his attention fully focused on the impossible.

  “Thea,” he finally whispered and reached for her. Sorrow flitted over her features as his hand passed through her. His fingers curled into his palms. “God, I’ve missed you. You have no idea.”

  The sadness intensified. Oh, but I do, Nate. I’ve been watching you systematically destroy your life, pushing people away for far too long. She smiled gently, and a subtle feeling of warmth flooded his body from the center out. You weren’t to blame for my death. Nor are you responsible for Wade getting off. True justice caught up to him here on this plane anyway. It was more terrifying than you can imagine.

  Nate’s eyes widened as a mental image flashed into his brain, but before he grasped it completely, it was gone. He was left with the feeling he’d glimpsed something no mortal should ever lay eyes on, leaving him shaken to the core, nausea swirling in his stomach.

  Why haven’t you found him, yet? Thea interrupted his thoughts. You have to keep looking. You were wrong. It’s time to acknowledge that or risk losing another you care about.

  He shook his head, his gaze never straying from the illusion. “Who? The people I cared about were taken from me. There’s no one left.” Kelly’s image flooded his brain, and he shook his head to clear it. At the knowing smirk on his sister’s lips, he scowled. “Get out of my head. And what am I doing talking to a ghost?” He straightened and raised his voice. “You’re dead and I’m crazy.”

  “O’Leary?”

  Startled, his gaze shot to the closed door.

  “You okay? I thought I heard you call out.”

  He turned back, but Thea had disappeared as if she had never been. A quick visual search of the room amounted to nothing. He stared into the mirror, looking for signs of madness. Finding none, he looked down at his shaving hand and willed it to stop shaking. “I’m fine. Be out in a couple of minutes.” At the sound of her retreating footsteps, he hurriedly resumed his shave without meeting his own eyes and tried not to think about the fact madness wasn’t always on the surface for everyone to see.

  Chapter Five

  “Mmm. That smells great.”

  Kelly paused, a knife in her hand. The smile she gave him squeeze
d his lungs. “Well, anything will be good after a week of food through a tube I imagine.”

  He admired the grace of her long fingers as they aligned the utensil beside the placemat. How had he never noticed how elegant they were? He glanced at his own as they wrapped around the back of her chair to pull it out. Square tipped and large, they suited his chosen profession. He would never have made a doctor and he supposed it was lucky he didn’t have an artistic bone in his body. He looked up to find her staring at him.

  “What?”

  “Why’d you do that?”

  Nate frowned. “Do what?” He followed her gaze to his hand resting on the back of her chair and shrugged. “You’re a lady aren’t you?”

  “First time you’ve noticed that,” she mumbled sarcastically and sat down, dragging her chair closer to the table.

  He leaned close, his fingertips barely grazing her shoulders. Goosebumps rose in their wake, and he allowed his breath to stir the hair around her ear. “Oh, I’ve noticed all right.” He grinned at her quickly indrawn breath and the accompanying shiver and breathed deeply of the delicate scent her flushed skin released. His head lowered before he caught himself. Clamping his jaw shut, he pulled away to prevent taking her earlobe between his teeth. Her perfume followed his retreat, teasing his nostrils the long walk to his own chair.

  God, yes he’d noticed, and that’s precisely why he tried so hard to treat her as one of the boys. But with her here in his home, suddenly, the boundaries he’d set between them no longer existed. At this moment, he had a hard time working out why he’d erected them in the first place.

  He sat down and picked up his utensils, keeping his gaze firmly on the plate in front of him, and concentrating on every mouthful. Perhaps if he kept his mind busy isolating and identifying each individual ingredient by taste alone, the overpowering urge to learn hers would leave him be.

 

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