by Linda Mooney
“That’s not what I mean, and you damn well know it.” Her head swiveled in Sam’s direction. “You, Detective, I have no problem with. But you.” She turned back to Kiel. “There’s something about you that’s throwing all my beliefs into a meat grinder and grinding them to bits. You have the aura, but I can touch you. What’s going on, Detective? You frighten me, and I don’t like this feeling. Not one bit. If I’m going to help you solve this case, we need to be upfront with each other, and now. Or else I’m going to have to call your captain back and tell him to send me two other men, or I’m bowing out.” She paused, and Kiel could hear her racing heart. He could also see her visibly attempting to slow down her breathing.
“I-I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. You know you’re different from your partner there. What did you say your name was?”
“Stark. Kiel Stark.”
“And you?” she asked Sam.
“Sam Reese.”
Again she turned her head from one to the other, her eyes stable and unmoving, yet still mesmerizing. “You’re related.”
“Yeah,” Kiel admitted. “We’re half-brothers.”
A tiny ghost of a smile touched those full lips. “Different last names. You must share a mother.”
“How would you know we’re related?” Sam asked. They were nearing the feeder road which would take them straight to the main highway.
“You both have the same shape aura, but they’re different. If you were full brothers, your auras would be almost identical, except for their color.”
“What color is mine?” Kiel smiled.
She must have heard the amusement in his tone. “I don’t know how to explain color to you, Detective Stark, because I’ve been blind since birth. So the way I define color is nothing like your definition.” Once more the frown darkened her face, and her tone suddenly became harder. “But something isn’t right here, and I don’t like it. Detective Stark, is there a reason why your aura is full of light?”
He shrugged, then realized she couldn’t see it. “I thought auras were made of light anyway. Besides, how would you know about light if you’re blind?”
“Because my grandmama explained to me about light. It’s like the sun. Or the heat from a lamp, or a candle flame. I’ve felt all manner of heat, and that’s the kind that surrounds you. Lots of light and heat, bright and glowing. It’s not the same kind of aura normal people have, Detective.”
“Not like mine?” Sam piped up, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.
“No.” She shook her head slightly. “Normal people’s auras have their own color. Their own personal brightness, until they die. And then their auras make this unexplained flash of light, like a big burst of energy, before the aura fades and disappears.” Her sightless eyes seemed to reach into Kiel for the truth. “You’re not alive, but you’re not dead. You’re stuck somewhere in the middle, in the midst of that gigantic flash. You’re burning so brightly, you’re like this enormous beacon. But…but I touched you. I felt your hand.” Her voice grew softer. “Are you dead, Detective? Or do you have some sort of fatal disease which has you teetering on the edge of that abyss?”
“If you’re wanting to know if I’m dangerous, the answer is no,” Kiel began to explain slowly, when Sam broke in.
“This’ll have to wait, everyone. We’re here.”
Kiel opened the car door for her, stopping himself just short of reaching out to take her arm. It was a gesture he normally would have thought nothing about a month ago. Fortunately Sam came around the back of the car and offered his arm to help guide her into the condemned apartment building. Still, he couldn’t help the little shiver that ran through him when J turned around to give him a sad look. If he didn’t know better, he would swear she had wanted to touch him again.
They broke the police barrier tape on the door and entered the building. The scene of the crime was on the third floor. Silently they took the stairs since power had been shut off to the building some time ago.
Keeping behind her, Kiel watched the way the woman’s backside swayed when she walked. It would have been nicer if there had been a bit more definition to that bottom, but her choice of attire did a better than average job of keeping her concealed. That dress shielded her femininity like a damn burqa.
“Anything yet?”
He saw her smile. “I’m soaking it all up like a sponge, Detective. Give me a bit longer to sort out the details.”
Kiel glanced up at Sam, who shot him back one of those be careful looks he saw too frequently these days.
They continued climbing until they reached the third landing. Kiel followed along behind them instead of going on ahead as he normally would. Whenever he and Sam were on a case, just the two of them, he could be a bit freer with his newfound abilities. This having to play it totally on the level was leaving an irksome taste in his mouth that he was surprised to discover he didn’t like. The woman was blind, for goodness sake!
Yeah, but she was also as sharp as a finely honed blade. Blindness, in this case, wasn’t her weakness. If he tried any one of his stunts, as Sam sometimes called them, Kiel knew the woman would call him out on them.
Pausing outside of apartment number 316, Sam gave him a nod to go ahead. Sounding a quick sigh, Kiel tore off the tape barring them from entering and gave the handle a little jiggle to make it sound like he was using a key to open the door. Then he quickly went through the steel partition, into the apartment, and unlocked the door from the other side. J wore a little smile but said nothing, and for a second he wondered if the woman was aware of the little trick he’d pulled. Mentally shrugging, Kiel decided not to say anything unless she brought it up first. They were here to investigate a triple homicide, not discuss the attributes of a man who had died over a month ago.
Sam clicked on his flashlight and quickly scanned the empty room. Both men watched as the woman stepped over the threshold, then paused. She dropped her hand from Sam’s arm to wrap both of her arms about her chest. Kiel realized the woman was cold, or at least shivering from something like cold. The impulse to put his own arms around her to stave off the chill was like an ache he couldn’t ignore, but he could fight it. Maybe because of her disability, J Laurent exuded defenselessness. But she also possessed a sense of calm strength he found intriguing.
Silently the detectives watched and waited for the seer to make a statement, allowing her to either prove or disprove their half-formed opinions about her. J took two steps into the room and stopped. She turned in a full circle as she continued to rub her arms against the chill, even though the temperature outside had to be hovering in the seventies.
“Three people died here,” she informed them.
Sam snorted. Kiel knew why. The news of the murders had been splashed all over the papers and television for the past week.
“They died the same way two others died.” She lifted her face in their direction. “You have two more bodies at the morgue who fit the same MO.”
Now that bit of information was something that hadn’t been released to the press. Nor was it common knowledge among the rest of the other investigators. Kiel felt a grin come over him as Sam’s eyebrows lifted a good half-inch.
J took another four steps into the room until she was facing the back wall of the living area. Turning slightly to her left, she indicated the back rooms with a lift of her chin. “Are the bedrooms there? I’m feeling something from that direction.”
“Damn,” Sam muttered under his breath.
Kiel concurred. The bodies had been found in the very last bedroom. Again, undisclosed information.
Normally he wouldn’t have given much credence to her findings. Nearly two-thirds of all homicides took place in the victim’s bedroom. Beds made a perfect stage for such horrors. But in this case all three victims had been slaughtered—and slaughtered was the only word Kiel could find to describe what he’d seen. All three had been found together in the back bedroom at around eight p.m. The coroner had
put their deaths at approximately one in the afternoon. Which begged the question: What would three grown men be doing in a back bedroom at one o’clock in the middle of a weekday?
“Detective Stark, would you show me the way, please?”
He started. She seemed to feel his reluctance, and held out a hand that trembled slightly.
“Please?” she reiterated, waiting.
He gave his brother a little nod, and Sam tried to slip in.
J immediately lifted her hand. A scowl crossed her features. “Don’t ever try to do that again,” she admonished Sam darkly. “The difference I see between you and your brother is as obvious as dark and light to me.” She looked straight at Kiel. “I have my reasons for wanting you to guide me back there.”
Giving himself a moment to collect himself, Kiel walked over and held out an arm.
He thought he had prepared himself for her contact. He thought he could handle her touch this second time. How wrong he was.
He saw her hand descend upon the sleeve of his jacket. Saw it. Felt it. And his whole body seemed to melt from the warm summer breeze blowing over him. Through him. Smelling sweetly scented like flowers in a meadow.
Closing his eyes, he could remember days from his childhood when he would climb the huge cottonwood in his backyard and sit up there for hours reading a book. Reading, napping, and letting the sun and wind flow over him. It was his most favorite childhood memory.
It all came back to him now. The memory. The feel. The smell. And, most of all, the sense of utter peacefulness it had given him.
And then it was gone. J’s fingers tightened slightly over his arm. Without thinking, Kiel placed his other hand over hers to help steady her nerves. It was like holding a warm rose.
Slowly they walked down the narrow hallway, passing the second bedroom and bath, until they reached the back bedroom. It was pitch black, but Kiel could see his way as clearly as if it was daylight. J, of course, wouldn’t know any difference. They paused in the doorway as if he instinctively knew she would hesitate there.
He kept his eyes on her face, on the expressions he saw flit across her skin and the surface of her eyes. She flinched twice, and her smooth skin appeared to grow paler.
Suddenly she took a step back, and her fear was a taste of acid that jolted him. “Kiel. It’s still here,” she whispered hoarsely.
“What’s still here?”
“That thing.”
“What thing?”
She turned, pulling and tugging on him. “Get me out of here,” she begged. “Get me out of this place! We gotta go!”
He ventured a quick look back at the now sterilized bedroom before taking her back into the living room, but it wasn’t enough. J had to be removed to the hallway before she stopped shivering. This time he didn’t think twice before putting an arm around her shoulder.
Warm summer days. The hint of jasmine in the air. Bright blue skies and clouds shaped like animal crackers.
Kiel had never wanted to bury his face against a woman as badly as he wanted to at that moment. Bury himself along her soft skin and hold her. Protect her.
Lifting her face, J sniffed loudly and pulled out a tissue from her pocket to blow her nose. “I’m sorry,” she apologized in a low voice. “It got to me back there.”
“What got to you?” Sam asked on the other side. They were leaning against the hallway wall, just outside the apartment.
“The way those people died.” She looked over at Sam. “The room may have been cleaned and disinfected, but you’ll never be able to remove the taint that will haunt that place forever.”
Giving her shoulder a little squeeze, Kiel gently asked, “How did they die, Miss Laurent?”
Her face went even paler. “They were stabbed to death. No. More like punctured to death. Afterwards, their bodies were shredded. That one man, the one you found inside the closet, he didn’t die until he was torn apart.”
Both men felt shock go through their systems. Kiel believed he was long past feeling anything, but her words, and the feel of her shudder beneath his hand, gave him an overpowering sense of revulsion.
“The weapon, Miss Laurent. Can you give us a clue as to what was used as the weapon?”
Good old Sam. He looked ready to spew, but he was determined to find out the specifics.
“A-a piece of, umm, a piece of metal. About this long.” She held out her hands approximately eighteen inches apart. “Round, like a pipe, but without the hole inside. It was solid, like a gigantic piece of spaghetti. Oh, and it had curves on it. Grooves. If I felt one, I would recognize it.”
Kiel wracked his brain for a weapon fitting her description. Of course, it was highly possible the killer had used an unorthodox weapon. Something other than a knife or tool.
“Can you tell us anything about the killer?”
“Yeah. You’re not going to like my answer, either.” Taking a deep, ragged breath, J told them, “The man you’re looking for is dead, just like you, Detective Stark.”
God, she felt dirty. Filthy, slimy dirty, right through to the marrow of her bones. At any moment she felt as if she was going to heave, and it was by sheer force of will that she kept her lips pressed tightly together and prayed she didn’t. Otherwise it would make her appear weak in front of these detectives. It would make him think the worst of her. Like maybe she wasn’t cut out to do this kind of work. That she was no better than those other weak-willed women he had dated in the past.
He squeezed her shoulder again, and all the blood rushed to her feet. Terror like a huge, velvet hammer came out of nowhere and began pounding at her skull. She tried to call out but her body had stopped functioning.
Dimly she was aware of him picking her up, and a heartbeat later she was outside where she could breathe again. Breathe in and out the clean air as he held her hand and called her name.
This is insane! The man is dead, which is impossible. Dead people don’t walk around in the real world, functioning like normal living people. Dead people don’t wear suits and resume their lives the way they had been before they’d passed on.
Also, dead people couldn’t touch you like this, much less give you an overwhelming feeling of security like this man did. Then again, she had never met a person with the kind of aura Kiel Stark bore. It wasn’t just his life force emanating from him. It was more than that. It was filled with strength, conviction, and a passion for life that had no bounds. And it held belief. Belief in himself and what he could or couldn’t do. Belief that somewhere there was a reason for why he was, and what he was.
“J? Miss Laurent. Are you going to be okay?”
There were steps coming to join them. They belonged to the other detective who was running to catch up.
“Jesus, Kiel! Don’t go pulling that ghost shit on me! You scared the crap out of me, disappearing like that!”
“I had to get her out of there, Sam. That place has a negative energy that was just sucking the life out of both of us.”
“Yeah, well, next time, take the stairs like I had to. How’s she doing?”
“I think she’ll be all right.”
“Think we need to take her to the hospital?”
“No. Give her a chance to come to. Like I said, that apartment is full of some kind of blackness. It’s horrible. I can’t describe it any better than to say it’s an evil blackness, so thick you could almost open your mouth and feel it reach down your throat so it can tear out your lungs.”
“Dear God. Think she felt it, too?”
“Oh, yeah. She had to.”
Her hand was squeezed, making her head reel again. This wasn’t possible, to feel his skin all dry and warm, and slightly calloused. When he had put his arm around her shoulders, she would swear she’d felt his heat. Heard the steady thud of his heart. Smelled his sweat and soap, and aftershave. Which was totally impossible.
J breathed in deeply, and the detective squeezed her hand again.
“Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah. Tha
nks for getting me out of there. It was…that thing.” Taking a deep breath, she struggled to sit up. Kiel helped her, propping her against the low brick wall that bordered the complex. Sam walked over to the car, popped the trunk, and extracted a bottle of water from the cooler they kept in the back, and brought it over to her.
“Thanks.” She felt its smooth coolness when he placed it in her hand. The water refreshed her parched throat. It also gave her the chance to get her head straight. First thing she wanted to do when she got back home was take a hot shower. Try to wash away some of those foul memories.
“You feel like going down to the station and making a statement?” Sam asked.
“Yeah.” She nodded. “Yeah. As long as it’s away from this place.” Get her away from here. Enough was enough. If she got through the night without having any nightmares, it would be a miracle.
“You know we might have to come back here,” Kiel warned her.
J shook her head. “I won’t need to. I found out all I needed.” Turning her face in his direction, she added, “But I will need to see the corpses. And where those other two were killed.”
“Let’s get back to the station first.”
Kiel got to his feet and helped her up. It no longer bothered her to touch him. In fact, she was dreading having to let him go.
She raised a hand to her head. This whole thing was beginning to give her a headache. It was too surreal. She needed time to think, and space. Suddenly J wanted to go back to her quiet home and the safety of those old walls.
With Kiel.
The thought came to her unbidden, and she groaned softly.
“Are you sure we don’t need to take you to the hospital first and get you checked out?”
It was Kiel, sitting in the backseat with her. His arm was lying on top of the seat, behind her. When she leaned her head back she could feel it like a length of steel at her neck. It felt good.
“No. I’ll be okay. It sometimes takes me a while to shake it off.” She tried an apologetic smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice her nervousness. “I’m not the seasoned veteran like you are, Detective.”