Garden of Sorrow (Book 4 of Psychic Visions, a paranormal romantic suspense)

by Mayer, Dale

  That did it.

  "But I'm not most women. This…" She wafted her own arm sarcastically around. "This doesn't impress me. I wouldn't spend an afternoon with you ever. If you don't move out of my way, I'm liable to puke all over you. You. Make. Me. Sick!"

  She shoved past him. Arrogant asshole. Who the hell did he think he was?

  She quickly returned to the back garden. With her head down and her thoughts still in a fury, she didn't see who was waiting for her at the end of the path.

  Kevin stood, holding two coffees, a whole gambit of emotions running across his face. He'd obviously heard her. Alexis watched him quickly mask his gleeful amusement. He held out her cup of coffee. "Shall we?"

  Silently, she accepted the cup and strode forward, happy to have him beside her and even happier to put more distance between her and the degenerate she'd left behind.

  As they walked closer to the house, sounds of yelling and shouting rushed toward them.

  Kevin sped up, almost running by the time they'd reached the house. Alexis could hear him mutter, "Damn it; now what?"

  A sentiment she echoed.

  He entered the house, but she waited outside the glass porch doors. From her position, she saw several men crowd around Kevin, all talking over each other in an effort to be heard. Scott seemed to be in the middle of them. Thankfully, the glass kept the words out of her hearing. She really didn't want to know what was going on.

  "Yes, you do."

  Alexis pivoted to find Stefan standing slightly behind her. She hadn't heard him approach. "How do you do that?" she asked irritably. "You're almost a phantom."

  A ghostly smile appeared, exasperating her even more. Sudden thuds, and even louder yelling, turned her attention back toward the house. It sounded like the argument had jumped to a whole new level.

  "Why do I want to know what this is all about?" She nodded at the chaos going on inside. It looked like Kevin was actually holding an irate Scott, keeping him separate and apart while several other men held two other men away from him. Of course, a fight was an open invitation to an Irishman.

  And Kevin seemed to think he had Scott under control. What a joke. Scott must be calmed down or Kevin would be flying through the air, detective or not.

  Alexis grinned at the image in her mind. "They almost look like they're having a good time in there."

  "Not all of them." Stefan joined her at the glass doors.

  "So what's going on that I need to know about?"

  "Threats and blackmail, suspicions and fears." He continued to stare into the room. His voice thinned and lengthened in a weird parody of a tape suddenly being reduced to half speed.

  It sounded beyond weird. Alexis looked at him curiously, recognizing the change in energy patterns around him. He was lost in a vision of his own.

  He'd told her that sometimes he seemed to have no control over them. The realization had startled her. Knowing it was the same for her made her protective of Stefan in this defenseless state. Alexis shifted closer. Dropping her voice, she asked, "What do you see?"

  "Pain, betrayal, loss, grief … murder." His voice trailed off, leaving the last word as an eerie hook.

  "Murder?" she demanded. "Who? When? Talk to me."

  And just like that, Stefan was back to normal. "I would if I could, but I have no idea what that was all about."

  Alexis studied him, checking deep in his eyes to see if he really was back. The lopsided grin he gave her as he recognized what she was doing convinced her to believe him, as nothing else could have.

  "Alex!" came the yell from the other side of the glass.

  The two looked, to find Kevin motioning both of them inside.

  "These two need to go to the hospital to get checked over." Kevin pointed out two middle-aged men, both sporting bloody noses. Kevin's voice was clipped and irritated. "And Scott needs to get his head checked out."

  "Achh, there's nutin' wrong with me head." Being upset, Scott had slipped back into a heavy burr.

  "No, just with what's in it," Alexis snapped, eyeing the blood drying on his temple.

  "I'd call this in, but they don't want the police involved. What a surprise," Kevin added dryly, giving the two older men the once over. She sensed that Kevin didn't know either of them well. Both of them had the grace to blush in embarrassment. When Kevin pinned Scott in place, now that had been comical. Scott actually shuffled his feet like a shamefaced child.

  As if just noticing the crowd still hanging around, Kevin called out over their heads, "Show's over, folks. Go back to what you were doing and forget about it. They were just fighting over their golf scores."

  That elicited a wave of laughter. In a town like this, golfing tournaments were a way of life. If there was one fight the populace would believe in, that was it.

  Alexis watched, wondering what his announcement had to do with her.

  "I'm going to take them to the emergency room. I won't be back." He pulled Alexis off to one side. "Why don't you come along?"

  "To the hospital?" At his nod, she pulled away. "I don't think so. I don't like those places."

  "I didn't mean for it to be for fun. I meant to help me with these two, and Scott. He might be more manageable with you along. He's still pretty riled."

  "Not bloody likely," she retorted, amazed at his assumption. Scott, in fighting mode, was a scary sight indeed.

  Still, a few minutes later, she somehow found herself in the middle of the back seat of Kevin's car between the two older men. Scott sat in the front seat, half turned to face her.

  "If he hadn'a 'cused me, then I wouldn'a thrown the punch." Scott's accent had thickened again, making him next to impossible to understand. "But I didna do it."

  "Do what?" Alexis looked to the two men beside her for an explanation. With none forthcoming, she pinned Scott again. "Scott?"

  "He 'cused me of writing a word on the mum's writing board."

  "A word?" she asked cautiously. All of this over a word. She caught Kevin looking at her in amusement through the rearview mirror. She rolled her eyes in disgust.

  "What kind of word?"

  The kindly gentleman on her right, sporting a bleeding cut to his nose and what would eventually become a beauty of a black eye, answered, "We saw him by the board, and mistakenly thought he'd been the one to write 'confess' on it."

  "Confess?" Bewildered, she could only look around the vehicle full of men. Who'd fight over that?

  "There have been some weird notes left for the mayor. The main message in all of them has been for John to confess something. When we saw Scott here at the board we thought we'd found the bastard who'd been sending all these notes.

  "I told you, I didn'a see the word. I dunno who wrote it, ye daft mon."

  "And I accept your word now." One of the older men gingerly reached up a hand and explored the mess of his face.

  Alexis couldn't believe it. "What? He pounds your face into the ground, so now you'll listen to him?"

  They all looked at her in surprise. "Of course," was their collective answer.

  They were all nuts.

  The emergency room was quiet for once. A welcomed relief, as that meant there'd be no wait. The two older gentlemen were examined first. Both had minor injuries and after being cleaned up a bit, were released.

  Alexis sat beside Scott in the waiting room, thinking on the strange afternoon. So much for practice sessions at the party. With the fight, that had brought everything to a halt before she'd even had a chance to ask Stefan about his plans. She certainly hadn't picked up anything odd. Other than the arrogant SOB birthday boy.

  A tall, uniformed woman approached. She stood in front of Scott with her hands on her hips, as if she were about to deliver a lecture.

  "Well?" she demanded.

  Alexis was surprised at her attitude. Not the usual bedside manner of nurses. The attractive woman openly studied Scott. It was obvious he recognized her. His face changed from a man to that of a boy in the midst of a scolding. Amused at the r
evelation, Alexis kept watching.

  Now Scott was actually blushing – even mumbling incoherently.

  It took her a minute to catch on, but when she did, Alexis couldn't stop giggling. Scott sent her a disgusted look, silently telling her to be done with it.

  "I'm sorry for laughing. I'm Alexis." She hopped off her waiting room chair and held out her hand to the nurse.

  The nurse smiled a classy, enduring smile. Alexis was impressed. Scott had found himself a lady this time.

  "I'm Moira," she said with a lilting Celtic accent.

  Ahh. That explained it. She was from his home country.

  Moira turned to the grumbling Irishman with a heavy sigh. "Let's go, ya big lug. We needs ta take a look at your head."

  "Now, Moira. There isn't anytin' wrong with me head. I just took a wee blow and look…" He tilted his head to show her. "There's almost no blood."

  Moira wasn't having any of that. She ignored his pleas and steadfastly tugged him into a small cubicle.

  Alexis, watching the two of them wrangle and spar as they moved off, was surprised and overjoyed for her friend. If anybody deserved a good woman, it was Scott. For the last couple of years he'd been stalwart in his role as her friend, protector, and if need be, ass kicker. He'd been heartbroken over the news of Lissa's disease, visiting often during her illness, bringing laughter and light to a family that had too little at the time.

  At the funeral, he'd cried – because Alexis couldn't.

  Now it looked like he'd found the mate to his heart.

  Anticipating their happiness made her feel alone in a way she hadn't felt for a long time. Stupid, really. Scott was a friend, not her own life partner. By rights, she could gain another good friend in Moira. But this development was another change in her life, and she had enough of that to deal with already.

  Funny how she'd used the term 'life partner.' That had been Lissa's phrase. 'One day, you'll find your life partner and realize that you will never be alone again.'

  Did she believe it? Patiently, Alexis sat in the long hallway where sounds of the hospital moved quietly around her. Yes, she did believe it. She wanted someone to share her thoughts, to hold her at night, to wake up to in the morning…maybe even, down the road, to have children with.

  What would Lissa have thought of Kevin?

  ***

  That night Alexis prepared for bed as usual. Although more moody than normal, she dropped off easily.

  Her dreams started out cheerfully enough, then without warning, his voice drove through her happy thoughts, bringing with it darkness and a smothering sensation. She twisted on her bed, agonizing in her struggle for breath. The smell of death, rotten with desolation and fear, permeated her mind. Her fight continued, as if she fought for her very life.

  Somewhere in the middle of the fog and horror, words mixed and interspersed with her pain and fear. A child's disembodied wail followed her journey through the black of night. He's hunting again.

  As Alexis raced back to the safety of her room, his cold, hollow voice drove through her senses, and left her soul quaking with his words. It's not your turn yet… But soon, oh, very soon.

  CHAPTER 12

  Stefan sat in his solarium enjoying a few minutes of peace. A necessary interlude after all he'd been through. He picked up his cup of chai tea from the small Japanese table.

  Boo!

  "Jesus!" he roared as hot tea streamed over his leg. He sprang to his feet, dancing and shaking his legs free of the hot liquid. Glaring at Lissa, he said, "Did you have to do that?"

  She grinned. Yes.

  "I thought you weren't into haunting people," he muttered in disgust as he pulled the still-warm cloth away from his skin. "This definitely falls into that category." He settled back down and wished, not for the first time, that he wasn't an open communication system for those on the other side.

  She's having nightmares every night.

  "Many people have nightmares. Alexis will need to deal with this as she has to all the other issues." He glared at her, wishing for a return to the peace and quiet he'd enjoyed a few moments ago.

  It's not going to happen.

  Stefan knew better, but he didn't need to boot this spirit out of his space. She was hurting. The same as Alexis was hurting. And he couldn't seem to help himself from helping.

  It's him.

  "Until he does something more than torment her, our options are limited." He sighed heavily, running his long fingers through his blond hair. "In the meantime, she's getting stronger everyday, and that makes each additional day a gift." His words hung there before slowly fading on the summer evening air.

  Her voice dropped to just above a whisper. I know. I just wish there was another way.

  In a gentle voice, he said quietly, "So do I. So do I."

  ***

  It had been days since Stefan had told them he was certain that this asshole was earthbound, yet since then, they'd learned nothing new. Alexis had searched the ethereal plane, with what little skill she had, and had left the detective work to Kevin. They still hadn't identified the skeleton she'd found.

  But she was hoping to change that. She wanted to check schools, birth and medical records, whatever it took, to see how many children who'd resided in the community of Bradford over the last thirty years, or in Portland for that matter, had the name of Daisy. It was such an unusual name, she couldn't see there being many, if any at all.

  At the end of the day, Alexis headed to the public library. She'd gone in early to work in the gardens, given the high temperature forecast for the day. She also appreciated the early end to the day's work. It was barely 1:00 pm. She thought the peaceful atmosphere of the library would be a good place for her to do her research. At least, that was her hope.

  Instead, she kept looking behind her as she roamed the stacks, searching for information. She had the horrible sensation that something was stirring on another plane – in the world that both fascinated and terrified her. It was bad enough she always had to worry about two-legged predators but now there were ones that could walk around outside their bodies. And if that thought didn't get her nominated for the freak award, nothing would.

  That she'd been able to communicate with her sister on any level was a joy and…unnerving. She loved the closeness, that whole reconnection – particularly when it was something she'd believed could never be.

  But the rest of what she'd learned was pretty horrific.

  And it was happening now, again. Shudders and cold sweat trickled down over her chest. Tension built, giving her palm sweats. She turned to search behind her. Something was getting ready to blow, only she didn't know what.

  Or when.

  But it was going to be nasty.

  Like someone was going to die.

  Die?

  Since when had the vague impression crystallized into a single word? This bastard continued to torment her, stalk her even…as if he were ready to pounce. The anticipation created a sick kind of darkness that had taken over her days. She couldn't explain it very well. But it was as if he were taunting her, telling her he could do what he wanted and she'd be helpless to stop him.

  It was hard to concentrate. To think. This energy, this person had taken over her life.

  She sat forward. What if that had been his plan from the beginning? Making it impossible for her to think this through. Could he be doing something to her? Like putting blocks in her mind to stop her from going down a certain pathway? And how terrifying would that be? And why would he? To keep her from discovering something? From seeing something? From understanding something?

  And again, she looped back. What could it be that he didn't want her to discover?

  What could this person really want? A rich businessman always went after more money. A real estate mogul always went after more properties. A serial killer always went after more victims…

  And the cry the other night had said the person was hunting.

  Hunting what? The obvious answer was 'more
victims.'

  Was that what this was all about. While she was distracted, he was choosing his next target. So that she couldn't see the victim? Communicate with his victim? She didn't know how or why she knew that, but suddenly she did. And she couldn't get that thought out of her mind.

  The same vague uneasiness filtered through her again. Somehow, she was inviting trouble if she didn't back off. Again, nothing specific, just gray impressions of dire consequences. His haunting words, 'your turn will come,' still tormented her sleep.

  Several hours later, in the public archive section of the library, she slammed her pen down on the notepad, letting her head drop to her forearms in defeat. She was getting nowhere. She closed her tired eyes for just a minute.

  Evil swept past her.

  Fear slid up her spine, rooting her in place. Oh, Dear God! He is here.

  With heart pounding, Alexis sprang to her feet, attracting curious looks from several other people. She gave them only a cursory look, enough to know they weren't who she searched for. At least she didn't think so.

  Instinctively, leaving her computer and books in place, she circled the main floor of the large library, searching to find the energy she hoped she'd recognize. It was the busiest time of day. With nothing more than intuition and a driving urgency, she moved from right to left, feeling the evil ahead of her, rapidly moving further away.

  She headed down the hallway toward the washrooms, and a series of other doors. Alexis stood indecisively in front of the multiple choices. Just then, the door to the men's room opened and two men, deep in conversation, exited. Her breath exhaled in a gush. She sucked in another one. Deeper, harsher, louder. She cast a quick look around. She was alone.

  Flushing sounds echoed deep within the same room, indicating more occupants. As she stood there uncertainly, she sensed lightness, a lessening of the heavy energy. The energy was dissipating. He'd gone. She rubbed the goose bumps on her arms. How could he just disappear like that? A choked laugh escaped. Who knew what this asshole could do.

  Quickly, she retraced her steps, trying to understand. Had he felt her following him? Did he know who she was?

  Or was his presence here a coincidence?