He had his gun slung over his shoulder as he approached, sunglasses shielding his eyes.
“Howdy, stranger,” he said with a smile.
“Wow, I haven’t seen you here in ages!” I leaned in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Arthur nodded at the firing line. “You want to go a round with me?”
I laughed, nodded and we headed to shoot. The companionship made me happy. Couldn’t wipe the damn smile off my face.
If I was being totally honest with myself, I’d say I missed Arthur’s friendship. He’d been my mentor, my therapist, but he was also a friend and I’d neglected him for too long. I knew I was a selfish person. I’d made peace with being horribly self-centred a long time ago but that didn’t mean I couldn’t reflect in the moment and adjust things.
“I’m a little rusty.” Arthur patted my back as we walked into the range’s clubhouse. “Your skill has improved also.”
We’d shot three rounds and I was sore but happy. “I kick ass, old man, just admit it.” I grinned as I motioned to the coffee machine. “You want some disgusting house brew?”
He chuckled. “As long as it comes with conversation with a beautiful woman.”
I pretended to look around in search of another female. He laughed again and nudged me away.
“Go get the coffee, smartass.”
We settled onto the ratty old couches in the corner, alone but for a few older men playing cards on the other side of the room.
“How are you doing, Jade?” Arthur grimaced as he sipped his coffee and I couldn’t blame him—the stuff tasted like shit.
I sucked in a deep breath. “You think I should be talking to someone.”
“To me, you should be talking to me.” Arthur leaned forward and patted my knee. “Not only do I miss our chats but I think I understand you better than anyone else.”
It was true. He did. I nodded. “I’m coping. I’m finding a way.”
He cocked an eyebrow.
I shrugged. “I’m a survivor. You know that.”
“You’re destructive when you cope.”
I shifted my gaze away, memories flashing. The darkness inside. It creeped in sometimes. When toxic things triggered them. After I’d caught Steve cheating, I’d gone after my friend. The one he’d slept with. I’d harassed her, first verbally, then on the Internet. I’d bullied her. I’d made her life hell. She’d dropped out of school. Left campus to return home across the country. I’d reduced her self-esteem to nothing.
Revenge. I was good at it.
Arthur knew about that incident. I’d told him after the fact so he wouldn’t stop me. Even after that success, obliterating her from my sight, I hadn’t been satisfied. I’d kept harassing her. Would have continued until she did something drastic. I’d wanted her to die. Was so blinded by the darkness that I couldn’t see anything wrong with my actions.
Arthur knew that I had the tendency to fix things in a way that damaged me more—through vengeance rather than forgiveness. This wasn’t a conversation I was going to have with him. He was getting too close to my current method of coping and just like before, if he found out, he’d put a stop to it. He’d figure out a way to bring me back. And I wasn’t ready for that. There was just too much pain to deal with still.
The silence stretched out with me staring at the trap range and Arthur probably debating how much to push.
He cleared his throat. “Truce, Jade.” He touched my knee, the gesture forcing me to look at him. “And financially? How are things there?” He leaned back and speared me with a steady gaze.
I shrugged, took a sip of my coffee. “I’m okay.” For now. I’d had some savings and had gotten a bit of money on disability after my attack but those cheques were gone and my time spent away from work was beginning to show some strain on my bank account.
“I’m looking for an assistant.”
I frowned. “You’re lying.”
Arthur chuckled. “Okay, it just came to me. Steve gets rather sulky when I make him do assistant type stuff. I know it’s not up to the calibre of what you should be doing but maybe it’ll be a good way to transition back into the field.”
Clever man. “I’ll think about it.” And I would, maybe, for a few minutes.
“You’ll discard it, you mean.” He sighed. “Jade, I’m worried about you. Your penchant for revenge…” He trailed but I knew where he was headed. Not fair, he’d offered a truce.
I cocked my head. “I’m not seeking revenge.”
“Are you sure about that? I’m not some stranger. I know how you feel about righting wrongs. I remember one time you spoke about being Karma herself.”
“That was just fantasy, you know that.” I put my half-empty cup on the table to my side. “Besides, I told you that in a session. You can’t apply things out of context.” I’d told him that when I was purging, confessing all the strategies I’d used to crush Steve’s lover. Dumping the truth that what I’d really wanted was for that girl to kill herself. Looking back on that time, I did feel regret. Steve was a toxic influence on me and I’d grown so possessive that it clouded my judgement. I wasn’t making excuses for my behaviour. What I had done to that girl was awful and unjustifiable. I couldn’t change it and I couldn’t fix what I’d broken in her, but I did feel bad that I’d targeted someone so vulnerable.
“I don’t believe it is out of context.”
“Have you been talking to Steve?”
Arthur shook his head. “Not about you, no. But I don’t need to talk to anyone to see what’s going on in your head. You’re angry. You’re hurt. The coping mechanisms you’re utilizing will only work for so long. You can’t repress this forever, Jade, you know that and when the time comes for release, I’m afraid you’ll put yourself in harm’s way to get satisfaction.”
I shivered, a full body tremble. Arthur noticed. I didn’t like this conversation.
“All I’m saying is I’d like to have you around more. Keep you safe.”
“I’m fine, Arthur, and I can take care of myself.”
He patted my leg again and stood. “Just think about it, okay? Indulge me. I’d like to help you through this. I’m sure Steve would love it if you came back as well. The man is deeply in love with you.”
I snorted. Fucking psychologists thought they knew everything. “Steve is deeply in love with himself.” I stood and hugged Arthur, embracing him hard, putting all that I felt into that hug before letting him go. “I know you’re worried about me and I miss you too, but I don’t—”
“Just think about it, sweetie, okay?” He kissed my cheek then picked up his gun. “I’ll be in touch.” He walked out leaving me staring after him, my gut twisting.
I felt like he knew something. The man had always been very intuitive, an uncanny ability to predict my actions before I could. Was he that good at reading me or did he know more than he should? It was unlikely Steve had blabbed. As much as I wanted to think ill of him when it came to my secret, he wouldn’t betray my trust that way. Especially not if he believed I was out of the Karma business for good. No, if Arthur suspected anything it was only because of his innate ability to detect bullshit. He knew me well, I’d give him that, but there was no way I’d confide my recent activity to him.
The agitation I felt was enough to drive me out on a hunt, but I had plans with Kassey, and for once I accepted that that would be the better option. Kassey would calm me down, give me some perspective no doubt and unknowingly stop me from racing out to make another mistake where hunting was concerned.
No more impulse behaviour. The next hunt I went on was going to be calculated. Me in control and a rapist on the ground whimpering.
But not tonight.
15
“Where do you want to go?” I poked my head into Kassey’s room to find her seated at her vanity brushing her hair.
People said we looked like sisters. Same blond waves, natural highlights that seemed to take on a tint of red in the summer. Same creamy complexion. My eyes were blue
and hers brown. We had the same general height and body type, so yeah, sisters wouldn’t be an unfair guess. It was something we’d always kind of enjoyed. We were as close as sisters; she was my only family anyway. I’d always taken some pride in having a doppelgänger. I always considered Kassey to be one of the most beautiful people I knew. Which I think had a lot to do with her heart and her infectious smile more than her looks.
“What about that pub you like? The one close to campus.”
“The Hog and Mead?” I nodded. “Sure, I could go for something greasy.”
“And then maybe a walk after?”
A walk on campus. “Okay, if you’re not too tired though.”
She rolled her eyes and waved me away. “Stop being such a mother hen. I took a nap today. And I’m tired of being cooped up. That’s why I broke out, remember?” Then she added, almost under her breath, “You probably wouldn’t understand.”
I frowned. I hadn’t heard that right. Right? I gulped down a lump in my throat, shoved the comment aside. “Yeah. I know.” I tapped the doorframe. “You okay? I mean, really okay?”
She snapped her eyes from the mirror to me again. “Fine. Why?” Her tone was light, the usual easy smile there.
Okay, definitely imagined it. “Be ready in five. My stomach is grumbly.”
“You got it, sistah.” She flashed me a bigger smile then turned back to the mirror to dab some make up on her scar.
That was a marked difference now. The scar that ran from her temple to her chin. A deep gouge that the doctors had promised would heal up to nothing with time. What a load of bullshit. Kassey had refused further treatment on it. No to plastic surgery. “It’s not that bad,” she’d said.
But it was that bad. It was a reminder. For the first time looking at Kassey, I was repulsed by what I saw. Not because of the scar. Not because of the way her body bent with fatigue and her cane leaned against the wall. But because it should have been me sitting there putting makeup on my scars. Things would never go back to the way they were. And the guilt I felt weighed me down into the darkest part of what was left of my soul.
I turned away and walked into the kitchen, the familiar rage bubbling up. Kassey was my bright light but looking at her now made me want to reach for the dangerous impulse that drove me to do reckless things. I knew what I needed. But it would have to wait. Tonight was about Kassey.
“I missed this.” Kassey’s cane was on my arm and she was using me for support. I’d driven us to the pub, but being a Friday, it was super busy. Twenty minutes for a table and Kassey wanted to go for a walk. She took in a deep breath then let it out. “It smells the same.”
“What, like mouldy buildings and dog shit?” I snorted. “You’ve been cooped up in that hospital for too long, my friend.”
“No, it smells like home.” She nudged me. “Don’t you smell it?”
I will admit, I’d had the same reaction when I’d come with Eddie to interview Arthur. It did have a distinct smell and I had missed it too.
“Arthur offered me a job today.” I led us toward the theatre, intent on taking a look at what was playing. Kassey had always bugged me to go with her to a play—maybe now was the time.
“What kind of job?”
“Research assistant, lackey, Girl Friday…I don’t know.”
“He wants you close.” Kassey always got to the heart of every issue with dead accuracy. “His way of getting you back in his chair.”
I gulped, nodded, then preoccupied myself with looking at the posters advertising the latest plays.
She squeezed my arm. “I think you should do it.”
“He thinks that I will go back to my practice, my research.” I looked over at her and shook my head. “I won’t. Can’t.”
She gave a single nod. Not prodding.
“I’m not ready to talk to him.”
She’d been through therapy, of course. It was part of the rehab program and all round good practice for any therapist. Kassey knew the power of conversation. She wasn’t like me, avoiding the pain. Deflecting. Coping in dangerous ways.
“How’s the bank account?”
Ahh, yes, well there was that. “Not great.”
“And a job with Arthur would help pay the bills, right?”
I knew what she was doing. “What about Macbeth?” I pointed to the poster in front of us. “You like that play, don’t you?”
She chuckled softly. “One of the best.”
“I’ll get us some tickets.”
“You? See a play? You definitely need a therapist.” She giggled and then squeezed my arm again.
I was smiling as I turned toward the walkway. “Better get back before I eat your hand. I’m starving.” Another poster caught my eye though and I glanced back. This one was for Oedipus Rex. The poster was of the same vein as Macbeth—dark, depressing, featuring a sole male actor holding a broken crown in one hand and tears of blood streaming down his cheeks. I recognized that face. Frowning, I moved a bit closer, dragging Kassey along for my inspection.
“Don’t tell me you want to see that one too.”
“No, it’s the actor, he looks familiar.”
Kassey leaned in too, both of us studying his face. And then it came to me. Kiefer Jones, the boyfriend of the murdered girl. He was an actor. When Eddie had said Fine Arts student, I’ll admit acting wasn’t my first thought. It was a small side arm of the department, one that got much less attention than the acclaimed painting and drawing wings. Even so, Kassey had always raved about how undervalued the talented actors at the school were.
“Do you know him?”
“Kinda.” I studied the picture a moment longer. If Kiefer was an actor then maybe the big show he put on about Candace’s death, the one that had struck Eddie as overly distraught, was more to do with his educational focus than actual feeling. It was worth looking into. “Let’s go eat and I’ll fill you in.”
The great thing about Kassey was she liked to share. And despite the fact that her appetite wasn’t what it used to be, we ordered a crapload of garbage and picked off each other’s plates. The waitress had raised a brow when I’d selected everything we’d agreed on but whatever; anything left over would come home for a midnight snack.
“So you’re telling me that you are working with this detective, Eddie Bronson, to try to track down a murderer? And he thinks that the murderer is someone on campus?”
“Not someone on campus—he thinks it’s Arthur.” I snorted as I popped another fry in my mouth.
“Okay.” She looked bewildered. “But his theory has no traction and the case has gone cold so you’re going to help him out? Why exactly?”
I leaned back and shrugged, my fingers playing on the cool glass of my rye and ginger. “It’s a distraction.”
She cocked a knowing eyebrow.
“It’s just that…” I huffed out a breath. “The girls who were killed, they were young. Trusting. Unsuspecting that the person they were with was someone who would harm them. I mean, there’s no evidence to suggest a relationship but it seems that way. Like these girls knew their murderer. And the way they died. Violent.” I gulped, purposely keeping my eyes from straying to her scar. “The person doing this is meticulous with details. Not a trace of evidence. And the way he left Candace, on display like that, well, it just seems like a taunt.”
Kassey was listening intently, her eyes dancing in a way that let me know her mind was firing hot. “You think it’s a serial killer?”
“I’m no cop.” I shrugged. “But Eddie thinks it is and I gotta say, the idea of it happening to another girl, especially someone from here? Yeah, it makes me want to take action.”
She raised her fingers to her lips and tapped a few times. Telltale sign that she was processing. “I spoke to the Dean today.”
I frowned, the sudden change in direction confusing. “Okay.”
“He said I can’t come back to work until HR gives the stamp of approval.”
“And?”
“And th
ey won’t do that right away because they’re waiting on my doctor to get the appropriate documentation in to them. Which is a little problematic since he’s not totally thrilled I left rehab.”
“But he wanted you to go back to work, I thought.”
“He wanted me to visit. To ease myself in.”
“And you want to jump straight to the deep end.” True to character.
“I’m bored, Jade. I need a distraction.” Her tone had an edge. “Too much time to think.”
She let those words sink in, her eyes staring intently. I knew what kind of thoughts she was having. I opened my mouth. Closed it. What could I possibly offer her?
She leaned toward me, hand outstretched on the table. “I want to help on the case too.”
I shook my head, recoiling at the idea. “No way, Kassey. You need to work on getting well so you can go back to your job and make a difference for the students.”
“I am working on it.” She frowned, flipping her hand to smack the table, palm down. “But I can’t sleep all day either. Everyone wants me to take it slow but I’m damn sick of slow. Let me see the case file.”
“It’s gruesome.” And I hadn’t told her that the girls had been raped.
“Are you seriously trying to censor me?” She screwed up her face, contorting it to let me know what an ass she thought I was. “I’m not some wilted flower, Jade. For fuck’s sake, I’m the one who forced you to keep your eyes open when we used to watch slasher movies, remember?”
When we were eleven and alone at our foster home, yeah, I remembered. Kassey was a tough girl, always the bravest of any pack. Nothing scared her. I’d forgotten that I guess. “I just think you need to—”
She pointed her finger at me, jabbing the air fiercely. “If you’re going to fucking say a word about taking it slow or pacing myself I’m going to punch you in the face.” And for a second, I believed her.
I let out a laugh and then another and before we knew it, we were both wheezing from giggling so hard.
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