by V. K. Powell
Synopsis
Possibility, love, vigilance, even fear can be captured in a whisper. But what if it’s the only clue to solve a crime? Detective Rae Butler inherits a series of assaults that seem to have no connection beyond the suspect. But when she encounters Audrey Everhart and her unexplainable insights, Rae is torn between what she knows and how she feels.
Mayoral publicist Audrey Everhart is haunted by nightmares and by the cop determined to invade her privacy for answers.
Is Audrey’s nightmarish vision the answer to Rae’s prayer?
Haunting Whispers
Brought to you by
eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.
Haunting Whispers
© 2012 By VK Powell. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-629-8
This Electronic Book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, New York 12185
First Edition: February 2012
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Shelley Thrasher
Production Design: Susan Ramundo
Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])
By the Author
Haunting Whispers
Justifiable Risk
Fever
Suspect Passions
To Protect and Serve
Acknowledgments
To Len Barot, publisher extraordinaire, and all the wonderful folks at Bold Strokes Books—thank you for making this process so amazingly enjoyable and painless every time.
Brenda Allen—thank you for the expert advice and insight on issues beyond my mortal understanding.
My deepest gratitude to Dr. Shelley Thrasher for your guidance, suggestions, and kindness. You help me view my work through fresh eyes. Working with you is a learning experience and a pleasure.
For Sandy—thank you for your time and priceless feedback. This book is better for your efforts.
To all the readers who support and encourage my writing, thank you for buying my work, visiting my website (www.powellvk.com), sending e-mails, and showing up for signings. You make my “job” so much fun!
Dedication
TLP, for your assistance and support on this project,
thank you!
Prologue
The militia group moved in just before dusk and blocked Arya’s path to the extraction point. In less than an hour the team would leave without him, assuming he’d been captured or killed. They wouldn’t look for him, couldn’t even acknowledge he existed. Their orders had been clear, standard for clandestine ops in the shadow war against Iran: covert insertion, target elimination or recovery, and covert extraction. Anything else was unacceptable and created major repercussions for the US government. For the first time in his life, he had failed a mission—to move the wife of a high-ranking Iraqi official to safety—risk his life and his fellow operatives for a woman. He wouldn’t make it out this time.
His body burned from the sand he’d burrowed under to conceal his location. The miniscule particles permeated his clothing like water and gnawed at already raw flesh. His lips ached and bled from three days’ slow travel on foot through extreme temperatures. The little water that remained in his CamelBak was hot and couldn’t quench his thirst. He sipped from the tube and let the liquid rest in his mouth, savoring the wetness and wishing it was ice cold and abundant. He’d need to ration what was left to fight off heat complications—in case he escaped. With the insurgents settling in around him, that seemed unlikely.
Some of the rebels prepared a campfire while others fanned out to plant mines and IEDs on the perimeter of their location. Arya held his breath as the men dug and carefully sowed their deadly seeds in the sand surrounding him. Then he waited for his partner, darkness, to arrive. The campsite eventually quieted, the fire died, and the night provided his only opportunity.
He’d tried to memorize the number of footsteps between explosive devices as the men prepared their traps, but without visual confirmation his estimates were merely guesses. Slowly he snaked his left hand through the sand and slid it easily until he met resistance. The metal had assumed the ambient temperature of the ground, but the consistency was unmistakable. He inched right and down before encountering another. His body was drenched with sweat, and the intensity of the process drained his energy. Hours passed before he located all the units in his immediate area. He was boxed into a six-foot space with barely enough room to maneuver.
Darkness had turned to the dull gray of morning before he’d inched far enough away from the devices to crawl on all fours. Arya rolled over the top of a dune and glanced back toward the camp. Dawn was breaking in their direction so he still had the advantage of darkness as he headed farther west toward the border. The pickup time had passed. His only chance was to make it across the Iraqi border and locate some friendlies.
He stretched his legs to relieve the cramps from hours of restricted movement and rose to a crouch. With one last look toward the militia camp, he ran. Perhaps panic finally registered or maybe he simply wanted relief from the sand, heat, and dehydration. He was trained to survive anything with practically nothing, but the days of exposure had wilted his resources and played games with his mind.
As the sky brightened with morning light, Arya pictured himself training with the other recruits. He was the gold standard against which everyone else was measured. His chest puffed with pride and discomfort as he pulled for breath in the dry desert air. How long had he been here? He’d stopped counting. And now he might die because of a woman.
He kept putting one foot in front of the other. Then a tremendous pain riddled his body, and he was flying through the air. He had no sensation below the waist other than the certainty that he was still running.
Arya jerked awake, the memories and pain from two years ago returning as violently as the explosion itself. His heart and lungs raced to see which would collapse first. As he stroked the injured and missing parts of his body, his rage returned anew. His original plan had been altered, but his determination to see it through never wavered. He’d waited so long to find his beloved, even following her to this dry-gulch town in the middle of nowhere North Carolina. The past would not deter him from having her once and for all.
Chapter One
“This might not have been the brightest idea I’ve ever had.” Audrey Everhart mumbled under her breath as she circled the cinder-block Grantham Homes Community Center. The apartment buildings with boarded windows and graffiti-marred sides looked like one-eyed, tattooed pirates. Young men gathered on the street corners, making quick exchanges with passers-by while children played in close proximity. Clothes drying on an outside line flapped in the fall breeze like a warning.
She questioned her decision as disheveled men drinking from a bagged bottle gestured in her direction. Their unfocused stares followed her as she scouted the location for the mayor’s press conference. Mayor Downing probably wouldn’t approve of her coming here alone since the feds had endorsed his grant based on the amount of crime in this development. But Audrey didn’t wait for others to take care of things. Her independence and resourcefulness had served her well so far. Besides, it was afternoon and she’d
felt reasonably safe, until now.
A feeling of uneasiness settled like the gray clouds overhead, and she listened for anything odd or disturbing—white noise. She heard only the hollow echo of her own breathing, almost as if she was deaf to anything except the sounds of her body. Blood rushed through her arteries and veins, muscles contracted and extended as she walked, and her heart pounded more quickly as she understood the reason.
Danger. She’d felt this particular sensation only one other time in her life. In a matter of seconds her senses would shift into full alert and the stimuli of the outside world would rush in. Was it already too late? Hurried footsteps sounded behind her. Men, several of them, were coming for her. Why hadn’t she noticed sooner? The white noise grew louder.
She ran from behind the back of the community center and headed toward the front parking lot. A few steps later she heard a crackling sound and a sharp pain shot up her back. The ground appeared solid, but the soft grass under her feet gave way. Her muscles twitched and convulsed. She had no control. The crackling noise again, more pain, and another surge pierced her body like lightning. She tried to catch herself as she fell, but her arms wouldn’t cooperate.
*
Audrey’s skull still throbbed and the loud echoing voices nearby, one male and one female, weren’t helping. She felt disoriented and unsafe. Her body ached, and she had no idea where she was, though the smell indicated a hospital. Why was she here? She recalled leaving the pavilion—no, an apartment complex. She kept her eyes closed, trying to block the voices and remember what happened.
“You know who this is, don’t you?” The man’s voice.
“Yeah, Audrey Everhart, the mayor’s publicist. Though I have no idea why a town this size needs one. Why the hell was she at Grantham alone? I can’t wait to get to the bottom of this one.” The woman’s voice, strong and professional, full of determination.
Only a cop would have such an immediate need for answers and justice. But cops also dug into people’s lives, welcome or not, until they satisfied their curiosity. She had no interest in being a specimen for their dissection. Gathering a breath from deep in her aching chest, Audrey hissed through dry lips, “Shush.”
The same female voice, too close and way too loud, responded, “Hey, can you hear me? Ms. Everhart?”
“Shush, don’t yell.”
“I’m whispering,” the woman said. “You’re at Kramer Hospital. Can you open your eyes?”
Audrey lifted her eyelids a fraction and pain streaked through her head like a sharp odor. She squeezed her eyes closed. “The light.”
“Kill the overhead, Trevor. Try again when you’re ready, ma’am. Don’t rush.”
The woman’s concerned whisper made Audrey want to please her. She inched her lids open and stared into eyes as green as Irish shamrocks. Wavy auburn hair framed the woman’s oval face and feathered toward full red lips. “You’ve got pretty eyes.” She suddenly remembered those eyes and the woman behind them—Detective Rae Butler, Kramer Police Department.
“Must be the drugs,” the man said.
Detective Butler squared her shoulders and stepped back from the bed. “I’m Rae Butler.” She motioned to the short man with stark-white hair standing behind her. “And this is CSI Trevor Collins.” The crime-scene investigator nosed the air in greeting. “Are you up for a few questions? I’ve just come from the scene.”
The scene? That implied something bad had happened to her. Audrey blinked repeatedly to orient herself. She hated feeling confused and helpless. The sensation registered like a weighted block settling on an unstable foundation. “Where did you say I was again?”
“Kramer Hospital. You were brought in a couple of hours ago. Do you remember what happened?” Butler’s comments shifted seamlessly from introduction to interview.
“My head feels fuzzy. I think I was in the Grantham Homes development. Then I woke up here with you staring down at me with those—” She stopped, certain that disorientation had hijacked her restraint.
Audrey had heard rumors about Rae Butler in her year with the mayor’s office. It seemed odd that she could recall gossip more readily than the last few hours of her own life. Many of the Kramer cops aspired to emulate Rae as a detective or hook up with her romantically or both. Everybody seemed to like her. She was a good officer, friend to all, loyal to a fault—blah, blah, blah. Sometimes all the hype intimidated Audrey. It didn’t help to be dazed in her presence.
They’d met when Audrey was going through rookie school, a requirement for non-sworn personnel in the police department and other key city employees. Rae had been an instructor in the training course and proved patient and knowledgeable. However, not only Rae Butler’s professional skills had impressed Audrey. She was drawn to Rae as a person—as a woman—and that hadn’t happened in years.
Rae’s ability to discern the real from the bullshit had been so disturbingly accurate that Audrey avoided her whenever their paths crossed again. She couldn’t afford the intimacy that friendships required or allow anyone to distract her from her goal. She needed access, and her position in the mayor’s office provided it. She returned her attention to the attractive detective, determined to dispatch her as soon as possible.
When Audrey tried to sit up, Rae moved immediately to her side. She grabbed a pillow and started to position it behind her back. The gesture seemed like second nature, gallant and thoughtful in a way Audrey found endearing but a bit too presumptuous.
“No.” Audrey shifted sideways and took the pillow. “I can manage, thank you.” She couldn’t let Rae Butler touch her. She needed physical distance, especially right now. She fought to control her senses at the best of times, but under duress she often failed.
Rae stood beside her bed, confusion clouding her eyes. How odd she must find Audrey—an injured woman frightened of the smallest kindness, the most benign touch. She continued as if Audrey’s blatant refusal of her assistance occurred every day. Audrey thought that sad. “What were you doing in Grantham Homes?”
“Looking for a location to hold a press conference. Mayor Downing secured federal funding to revitalize the area and wanted to make the announcement on site.”
“You went alone?”
“I didn’t see the harm in the middle of the day.” Trevor Collins pinned her with a look that shouted “idiot.” She sensed his disbelief like a solid wall. Rae’s expression remained neutral.
“Can you remember what happened?”
“Detective, my head aches. I hurt all over, and it’s hard to focus.” She ran her hand over her head and flinched as she struck tender spots on her scalp and matted knots of hair. “Jeez, I must look like death riding a crippled spider.”
Rae flashed a grin that dimpled her cheeks, but quickly returned to business. “Anything at all about the assault would help.”
Audrey’s head pulsed as Butler’s words registered. “I was assaulted?” She remembered walking around the community build-ing, nothing more.
Trevor Collins grunted from behind Rae. “How else would you have gotten those bruises?” Collins either had little empathy or was socially challenged. She wanted him to leave but was afraid the request might sound like she had something to hide—which, of course, she did. No need to call attention to the fact so blatantly.
She looked at the purple splotches forming on her arms then back at Rae. The muscles in her abdomen contracted with the feeling that always accompanied her knowing. Inhaling deeply, she calmed the urge to throw up. She recalled pain and an eerie feeling of déjà vu. It’s only a few bruises, she told herself. Why did it feel like more?
Rae glared at Collins and inclined her head toward the door. She either didn’t like her sidekick’s offhanded comments or she’d sensed Audrey’s discomfort with his presence.
Audrey waited until he left. “I’m confused.”
“Are you saying you didn’t see who assaulted you?”
Rae Butler’s tone indicated she found the possibility un-acceptable. Most people
who had never been victimized found it difficult to imagine the event itself or the ensuing aftermath. For some reason she thought cops would be different, or should be different. She wasn’t about to test the theory.
“I didn’t see anyone.” That much was true. “I was walking around the Grantham Homes Community Center and then—nothing. For all I know, aliens could’ve abducted me. I’m not trying to be difficult. Really.” How could she not know who assaulted her? She knew more than she wanted about most things, so how was it possible to be so clueless?
Detective Butler’s brow furrowed as she regarded Audrey with suspicion. She clearly thought Audrey was being less than forthcoming. Audrey couldn’t admit, wouldn’t admit she’d been assaulted. Perhaps this once her feeling was wrong. Besides, the specifics of what happened were still blurred. The sparkle in Rae’s eyes dimmed as she gathered her belongings and headed for the door. “Maybe you’ll remember more when you’ve had time to recover. I’ll be in touch.”
Audrey wanted to cooperate to keep Rae Butler here a bit longer. While her questions were probing and uncomfortable, her presence soothed Audrey’s unsafe feeling. Something more foreboding had or was about to happen. “I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful.”
“We’ll get to the bottom of this. Rest now.”
When she was alone, Audrey tuned the wall-mounted television to a music station and increased the volume as much as she could stand to block the noise inside her head. She focused on Rae Butler, regal in stature with a handsomely sculpted body, her movements fluid and efficient. She got what she wanted and didn’t accept “no” easily. When Audrey failed to answer her questions, Butler was obviously disappointed, outwardly suspicious, and no amount of smiling could conceal her reaction. Upsetting Rae bothered Audrey more than it should.