True Seeing

by Leigh Wyndfield

  “I'm afraid I was in my own world. I,” Susan swallowed and looked nervous, “have a lot of things on my mind right now. I only noticed him when I stepped on his arm.” She shivered.

  “Did you see anyone else around?"

  “Only Mr. Parker."

  “Older gentleman who lives on the first floor?” Gordon asked.

  Susan nodded, looking like she had the beginnings of shock. “He cornered me when I got out of Jake's car. He said that he thought Jake was Prissy's new boyfriend but then realized he had brown hair instead of black."

  “Who's Prissy?” Gordon looked up from his notebook long enough to exchange a loaded look with Jake.

  “His girlfriend. His ex-girlfriend, I guess I should say.” Susan rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “He was acting very strangely."

  “Do you recognize the man that was killed?"

  “I, I think so. I can't tell for sure, because he's face down, but I think it's Robb Connors."

  There went one of their suspects, Jake thought. They would have to talk to Parker again but if it wasn't him, they really didn't have anywhere else to go. Jake's spine tingled as he thought about the implications of that. They were missing someone else. Someone they should know about. Jake's intuition screamed at him. He needed to go spend some time rereading the entire file.

  “We're talking about the guy who lives here on the second floor?” Gordon was flipping through his notebook to a page Jake would bet was titled ‘Robb Connors.’

  “The apartment all the way at the end of the building.” Susan held her hand up and pointed to it. “Apartment twenty-one.” Susan looked at Jake. “Jake asked me about him the other night and, actually, we were talking about him earlier.” Jake was glad he had caught Gordon up on the first conversation they'd had. “He said he thought Robb was a repressed homosexual."

  Gordon looked at Jake as if he'd lost his marbles and detoured the conversation in another direction. “Do you know why he might go down this set of steps and not the set nearest his own apartment?"

  Susan nodded. “It's kind of a joke here in this apartment building. The assigned parking spaces are backwards."

  “Backwards?"

  “The management put his parking space all the way to the right, even though his apartment is all the way to the left. We're all like that. It's annoying when you're carrying up groceries so most of us switched with our corresponding neighbor."

  “But Mr. Connors didn't switch for some reason?"

  “He didn't get along with the women in the building very well and the corresponding person for him wouldn't switch."

  “Elaborate for me on how he didn't get along.” Gordon's mild tone never gave away anything.

  Susan sighed. “I told Jake—he flirted with all of us. Ellie said that she would rather walk to Mars and back than switch parking spaces with him."

  “Ellie lives next door to you in twenty-six?” Jake knew Gordon's technique when questioning someone was to take nothing for granted. He also liked to mirror back what someone said when he pumped them for more information.

  Susan nodded, looking around the parking lot with a dazed expression.

  “What about you? Did you have trouble with him?"

  “No more than any of us did. Georgia said she set you guys on his trail for the first murder."

  Gordon and Jake exchanged a look, which had Jake shrugging at him. He hadn't had time to tell Gordon about this one. “Explain, please."

  Susan hummed for a second, clearly debating what to tell him. “I don't think she meant anything by it, but Robb was a big jerk to her last Sunday and so when the police asked her about the murder, she told them she thought Robb had done it. She said her brother was really upset by him."

  “Brother.” Gordon flipped through his book some more. “I don't have a brother in the list the apartment manager gave me."

  “He's only staying with her for six weeks or so. He's mentally handicapped so he's going back into a home of some sort. He's in adult daycare."

  Gordon signaled to Jake that he was ready to leave.

  Jake pushed Susan back into his car. “Stay here until we clear the body.” He paused and then said, “I can have someone run you over to my place if you'd rather stay there."

  “No,” she said, “I'm fine.” She didn't look fine to Jake but he'd left her there for now, leaning into the car to give her a fierce, protective kiss on the lips before going back up to the landing. He'd come back in thirty minutes to check on her.

  * * * *

  It wasn't until nine o'clock that night that Gordon pulled Jake into an interrogation room at the station to have a quick talk.

  Jake leaned up against the wall to let Gordon open the conversation. He thought he knew what was coming.

  “Three bodies, Jake, and no leads."

  “Two bodies. I still don't buy the one in-between."

  “Okay, so let's say two bodies, and leave out the woman. What makes those two the same, except for the fact that they both were in Building Six?"

  Jake thought for a second. “Hair coloring. Both have short black hair. Both are around six feet tall. Both are male. I'm not sure what else. Maybe they knew each other, but right now nothing is pointing to that."

  “So you think it might be someone killing because of location?"

  Jake was certain Gordon had something in mind, but he played along. “Someone's killing black-haired, six-foot tall males who wander into Building Six?” It sounded farfetched but he had been around long enough to know anything was possible. He watched Gordon carefully, impressed that his partner never gave anything away.

  “And you are convinced the same person killed both men, but not the woman?"

  “The medical examiner can confirm it, but both had their necks cut and both were stabbed multiple times. The woman's killer didn't have any fury behind what he was doing. The men's killer was an angry, angry fellow."

  “The stab wounds were excessive,” Gordon agreed.

  “The first one was up over forty. This one should be close to that."

  “So it's the same killer for the two men at least?"

  “At first glance? Yes."

  “And we agree that it's a possibility that the woman's death could be the same guy?"

  Jake sighed. “Maybe. Yes. A possibility. I still don't like it, it doesn't feel right."

  “But it could be the same guy. It seems like a coincidence that the first two victims were from Woodbridge Apartments. You know how I feel about coincidences."

  “It could be a copy cat."

  Gordon nodded, holding Jake's gaze with his own. “It could be."

  “We won't have the DNA results from the hair for another few weeks. Maybe CSU found something we can use from this scene."

  Gordon kept Jake's gaze for another thirty seconds, which seemed much longer, before he nodded. “To be honest, I'm inclined to agree with you that the second killing doesn't feel like the first, even if you go with the thought that the perp was interrupted mid-way through."

  Jake nodded. “We need to take another run at Parker again tomorrow, this time here at the station. If he did it, he would have been covered in blood. That means he had to shower and change clothes before he spoke with Susan. I think we should get a warrant and search his place."

  “Agreed. Talk to Judge Nelson.” Gordon looked at him, his gaze sharp again. “Another coincidence I don't like is that the same person found both bodies."

  “She didn't find the first one. Ellie did. It was bad luck she stumbled on both scenes, Gordon.” Jake tried to keep the warning out of his voice. Gordon was doing his job.

  “You don't believe in luck, Jake."

  “I do in this situation."

  Gordon grunted as if he didn't buy it but changed the subject. “What do we know about the killer, Jake?"

  Jake sighed. Here it comes, he thought. “Jack shit, Gordon. We don't know Jack."

  “That's right, Jake, we don't. So you know what I think you should be d
oing right now, Jake?"

  “Talking to Susan to see if she has anything we can use from the first murder?"

  Gordon patted Jake on the shoulder. “You got it. Do you want me along?"

  “No, I'll page you if I need you."

  “Good. Now get the hell out of here."

  Jake grinned at his partner. “I believe that's the first time I've ever heard you cuss, Gordon. How shocking!"

  “Get going,” Gordon said, opening the door. “And bring back something we can use."

  Jake saluted saucily but his eyes were hard and his shoulders set as he walked out of the station. He was not looking forward to putting the screws on Susan but he would do it. He had to. They needed to find the killer before another man lost his life.

  Chapter Ten

  Susan sat in her apartment, oblivious to the fact that it was too dark, the only light coming from the kitchen doorway. She had been sitting on her sofa since Jake had walked her up two hours ago. She was fighting an internal battle, mentally arguing with herself about telling Jake what she Saw. This person had killed two, possibly three people and she had information that might help the police capture him. It all seemed to circle back to the fact that the police—and Jake—weren't going to believe her when she told them about her True Seeing. But in this last vision, she had seen his face, the face of the man in the yellow raincoat.

  Susan closed her eyes and pictured him again. The raincoat was the same one her stuffed Paddington Bear had worn when she was a child, only man-sized. It even had the same wooden buttons, the ones that buttoned up with great big loops. Shiny yellow, very shiny and stiff, as if the raincoat could stand on its own when it wasn't worn. She had been so caught up in the raincoat that she hadn't seen what type of pants he was wearing. Something dark.

  There had only been a flash of his face. Blue eyes dominated to the point that she really couldn't remember anything else. Clear blue, like a mountain stream. The rest of his face was forgettable. She struggled to recall it, but even now, only hours after the vision, it was fading from her mind. What remained were crystal blue eyes staring out from Paddington's coat. She shivered. What a mess.

  The pounding on her door scared her so badly that she screamed. It was one of those female yips she absolutely hated. She strode to the door and opened it, the disgust she felt for herself written on her face.

  “What in the hell are you doing opening the door without knowing who's there?” Jake pushed past her, irritation flowing from him in waves. “Jesus, woman! I'm starting to get on my own nerves with the number of times I've told you about this."

  “I'm not in the mood for a speech right now, Jake. Please turn right around and leave. I've got some things on my mind and I don't want company."

  Jake looked around him at the dark apartment. “Saving money on your electricity bill?” He clicked on the two side lamps that flanked the sofa. “What were you doing sitting here in the dark?"

  Susan still held the open door. “Go away."

  Jake walked to her, took the door and gently closed it. “If you're trying to save money on electricity, Susan, then you shouldn't let out all the heat.” The lock made a loud click as the bolt slid home. Jake took Susan's hand and brought her to the sofa. After she sat, he took what was becoming his assigned seat on the coffee table.

  Susan felt a half-hearted flair of temper. God the man was exasperating. “Jake, don't sit on my coffee table. It's a nice piece of furniture.” It came out like a childish whine. Susan dropped her head into her hands and ground her fingers into her temples to try to relieve some of the tension.

  Jake took her hands and pulled them down to see her face. “Susan, I want you tell me what you left out of your first statement."

  Susan looked at Jake for a long time. She'd said over and over that she wanted to put distance between them. Telling him about the visions would put distance between them all right. As in Game Over. It's what she told herself she wanted. So why was she so reluctant to tell him? Why not tell him, help his case if she could? That's if he believed her. Which he wouldn't. He'd think she was nuts. Even worse would be if he believed her and hated her for it. Even her own mother had rejected her.

  “I don't know what's got you so scared you feel like you can't tell me, but I'll protect you. I promise, Susan.” Jake's body language showed his sincerity. He really thought he could protect her.

  Susan started laughing. It wasn't a nice laugh, but she couldn't help herself. Jake looked as if she'd slapped him. Susan climbed over the back of the sofa to get some space between them before he could recover. “Protect me,” she spat. “You could no sooner protect me than the man in the moon could.” She paced back and forth behind the couch in the area that served as her foyer. “You don't understand, Jake. You don't want to know what my secret is.” She looked at him, noting that his face had settled into its cop mask.

  “Tell me anyway."

  Susan blew out her breath. “Fine. But you'll either think I'm crazy or you'll hate me for it.” Susan tried to think where to start, still hoping in some small part of her that Jake would prove her wrong and like her in spite of her True Seeing. “When I was little, I found out I had a hereditary condition, which had jumped generations from my Aunt Ida down to me.” Susan looked around her apartment but she didn't see anything in the room. “My great-great grandmother also had this condition, according to my grandmother. Gran called it a gift, but if it's a gift, then the joke's on me, because I have spent my entire life trying to hide from it."

  Jake moved restlessly but didn't speak. Susan got the hint. “I know I'm rambling but it's hard to talk about. I haven't told anyone for fifteen years, so you'll have to be patient with me.” Susan paced to the heavy oil painting of a white horse head. She'd found it at a flea market and bought it, liking the simplicity, even though she wasn't exactly a heavy oils kind of gal. She traced the horse with her fingers while she spoke. “This so-called gift is essentially the ability to steal people's memories."

  She turned to look at Jake, still sitting on her coffee table. “I usually only see the visions when I touch someone but more rarely it can happen when I'm standing in the room with someone and the emotional energy's very high. It can be dangerously misleading at times, since I only get a flash of a scene, just a snippet of feelings and thirty seconds or so of picture."

  Susan stared at Jake, trying to gage his reaction but it was impossible. His face was a mask. She couldn't tell what he was thinking so she plunged ahead. “So that night, when I found Ellie staring at the guy in the laundry room, I came in and without even touching the man who was killed, I began to See."

  “What did you see in the vision?” His voice sounded reluctant, as if he was afraid of her answer. Well, he should be.

  “A man in a yellow raincoat.” Susan backed to the wall and slid down it. From this position, she didn't have to stare at his face. Jake got up and walked to her, squatting down. She stopped looking at him and looked inside instead. “I can't See him,” her voice dropped to a whisper. “It's such a strange raincoat. He comes into the laundry room and says, ‘Hello piggy,’ to Jim Daugherty, who's standing in the corner putting in his laundry. The hood to the yellow raincoat is up, shading his face.” Susan shivered.

  “You couldn't see his face, Susan?” Jake's voice sounded very, very careful to her. Susan wondered how hard he had to fight his disbelief. She couldn't tell anything from his voice or his face and body.

  Jake put his hands on her upper arms to get her attention and said again, “You couldn't see his face?"

  “No, not that time."

  “That time?” He paused and then said, “You had another vision when you found the second body?” Jake's voice was strained. Susan thought he was controlling himself from calling her a liar.

  “Yes. I know you don't believe me."

  Jake shook his head but didn't deny it. “Just tell me about the second vision."

  Susan looked up at the wood beams that ran through the apartment ceilin
g. She had always liked them, she thought, trying to distract herself from her current conversation. “He's still wearing the yellow raincoat. He's hiding in the stairwell, waiting for the man in the green shirt. He has the hood up. I can't see very much of his face, except his eyes. Blue, blue eyes in the darkness of the hood. He cuts the other man's neck. It looks like a second mouth."

  “Did you see anything else but his eyes?"

  “All that laughing,” Susan went on, as if Jake hadn't spoken. “And the sound.” She started rocking back and forth with the surge of the extra energy pouring through her.

  “What sound?” Jake didn't touch her; there was no comfort in his words.

  “Pig sounds. Someone's laughing and saying oink over and over again."

  They were both silent for a second. Then the cop kneeling before her asked, “What makes you call the raincoat strange?"

  Susan shook her head to clear the memories she had been reliving for hours now. “Do you know who Paddington Bear is?"

  “What?"

  “He's this bear that goes on all sorts of adventures in children's books.” Susan waved her hand to silence him before he could comment on the state of her mental health. “Anyway, he wears this raincoat, I think it's blue in the books but someone gave me a stuffed Paddington when I was little with a yellow raincoat on and the one he was wearing looked just like it."

  “Describe.” Susan got the impression that he had an easier time believing her about the True Seeing than the raincoat. Then again, he hadn't said anything yet to indicate he believed her, only that he was hearing her out.

  “The coat had oblong wooden buttons,” she held up her hand, “about as big as my pinkie. It buttoned up with great big loops and was shiny and stiff, like it was brand new. He must have cleaned it off since last weekend, because it didn't have any blood on it the second time.” She paused. “I mean, it didn't have any blood on it the second time until he slashed Robb's throat.” She looked down at her hands, wondering again how she'd gotten blood on them. She'd washed them off but she still felt dirty. “Then it had a lot of blood on it."