by L. T. Ryan
“Please,” she said. “Go, or I’ll lose it.”
Mitch turned away and walked out the kitchen door. Pennington looked back, his face tight, and nodded as he let the screen door fall shut.
The room went silent for a moment. Then the hushed tones returned. The voice wasn’t clear, but she presumed it to be singular. If there were multiple spirits, it would be difficult to understand any single one of them, but not due to lack of volume. When there were two or more, it could sound like Sunday dinner at grandma’s house, with everyone trying to yell over each other, vying for attention while they recounted their stories from the past week.
Cassie tread carefully down the hall, avoiding the crimson stains on the floor when possible. A dried river of blood streaked the wall, about waist-high. Tributaries stretched to the floor.
The voice grew louder, but no more discernible. She likened it to playing an album in reverse. A patch of light washed over the floor and faded a second later. She stopped at the first darkened doorway and peeked into the room. A burst of white light exploded from somewhere within, blinding her. Though the room was vacant, she saw the woman who had occupied it the night of the storm. Her naked body lay half on the bed. Her left fingertips grazed the floor. Her blonde hair was colored red.
“Is that you?” Cassie asked.
“NO!”
The force of the voice drove Cassie backward. Her head slammed into the door trim. She winced as pain radiated across her skull. But she didn’t scream out. Doing so might drive the spirit away.
Weaving her fingers through her hair to rub away the dull ache, Cassie staggered back through the opening and swept the room with her gaze. The unmade bed told the story of the woman’s last moments. But the vision was gone.
“Here,” the voice said.
Cassie backed out of the room and walked to the end of the narrow corridor. The light from the main room of the house barely illuminated the space where she stood, glinting off the door handles. There were three more bedrooms remaining, one to the front of her, and one on either side.
“Right,” the voice said.
Cassie reached out. The skin on her arm prickled as she wrapped her hand around the ice-cold knob.
“Open,” the voice said.
She turned the handle, taking a deep breath to steady herself for whatever sight lingered on the other side of the door. The stench hit first. It had been present throughout the house, but not as intense as the putrid smell of death in this room. As far as she could tell, the others didn’t notice it.
The woman was on the bed, holding her hands over her face. The blue of her eyes stood out from behind spread fingers. “Why did he do this to me?” Her voice was clear now, thick with a southern Georgia drawl. “Why did he try to shred me into pieces?” Blood seeped from behind the woman’s hands and ran down her arms. It dripped off and disappeared into the void.
“Who did this?” Cassie asked. “Can you show me?”
“It was so dark.” Her voice waned.
“Stay with me. Please. I need you to stay with me. Try to remember.”
“Alice,” she said. “Alice made it out alive. But only ‘cause he took her.”
“Do you know where?”
The woman reached out with her left arm, revealing a gaping hole in her face. A chunk of her cheek hung on by a thread of skin. She aimed her finger across the hall.
Cassie turned and stared at the opposite door.
“Alice,” the woman said.
Cassie spun back around, but the woman had vanished.
“Hello?” she said.
No response.
“Are you still here?”
No response.
Cassie leaned forward and placed her hand over a splotch of dried blood on the bedsheets. She heard a whisper, but nothing else. The young woman had slipped into the same void as her blood and tears.
Cassie left the room, pulling the door shut behind her. It stuck against the warped frame and then clicked closed when she pulled harder. She reached out to the right, dragging her fingertips across rough paint, then brought her hand forward and grabbed the knob to what she presumed was Alice’s room. Another flash of light overtook her vision. Soon it was replaced with the image of a man in his early twenties, dark hair and eyes, and a perpetual growth of scarce stubble on his chin and cheeks.
A whisper blew past like a soft breeze on a spring day. It sounded like it said, “Seth.”
The vision faded. The darkened door took its place. Cassie turned the handle and pushed the door open. There were clothes on the floor. A dresser overturned. The bed was stripped. The sheets were not in sight. They had been taken by forensics for further processing. Whatever had happened in the room, the investigators believed it would help identify the man that had murdered the women and taken Alice in the midst of the storm.
“Alice,” Cassie said. “If you can hear me, it means one of two things: Either you’re dead, or something in this room still holds enough energy that your spirit is attached. If the latter’s the case, and you can point me to the object, it’ll help us as we search for you. There’s a lot of us working on getting you back, girl. You’ve even got a cop from Philadelphia here to help. He’s a good one, too. So come on, show me, Alice. Show me.”
The soft rumble of a distant truck passed. The room fell silent. The entire house was like a corpse. No fan pulling in and pushing air through. No electricity to keep the pulse going.
Cassie closed her eyes, stepped forward, turned in a circle. She stood still for thirty silent seconds. She opened her eyes and scanned the room. A picture on the floor stood out to her. Cassie scooped it up and saw a photo of four women. It looked recent, but the edges had already started curling. She recognized one of the women as the spirit who had opened up to her. She was also able to spot the blonde from the other room.
And there was Alice.
“This is it,” Cassie said. “I’m taking this with me, Alice. Stay calm. Stay strong. We’ll be there soon.”
Chapter Sixteen
I leaned against the siding a couple feet from the back door. The calendar said October, but no one told Savannah. It had to be close to ninety degrees and at least that in humidity. The sun blared down. Clouds gathered in the western corner of the sky threatening an afternoon shower. Nearby, someone had started their grill or smoker. The charred remains of their last meal filled the air.
Pennington and Cervantes stood at the other end of the shallow yard. They spoke in hushed tones meant only for their ears. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t pick up what they were saying. Guess they wanted it that way. They took turns glancing in my direction. Was it me, or were they as apprehensive for Cassie to emerge from the house as I was?
A half-minute passed. Pennington crossed the grass. The odor of his partner’s cigarette clung to him.
“What do you make of this, Tanner?”
“The crime? Hell, you didn’t give me much chance to look around.”
“We value your input, but there has to be a line.” He looked back at his coughing partner.
“That’s only gonna get worse the longer he smokes.”
“Don’t think he cares.” Pennington’s smile faded as he turned his head toward me. “Anyway, I meant Cassie.”
“What about her?”
“What do you think of her gift?”
I took a deep breath before answering. This was one of those questions that he’d use to segregate me into one of two types of people. “You worked with her much?”
He nodded. “Since it happened.”
“And by ‘it,’ you mean….”
“Yes.”
I’d long since been familiar with how Cassie came into her gift. “So, then, you’ve seen some shit you just can’t explain when it comes to her, right?”
“You could say that.” He stuffed his fidgety hands inside his pants pockets. “You, too?”
“Look, all I know is that I’ve been at a dead end more than once, and something
Cassie has said put me back on the right track. Now, I’m not saying she had the exact answer to the question. She hasn’t always said the gardener did it with his spade and would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn’t for the meddling psychic. Follow me?”
“Yeah, of course,” Pennington said. “She has a way of dropping a clue sometimes that I never would have spotted.”
“Right.”
He sucked in a long breath of air and shook his head. “Still, though, I can’t help but believe it’s all bullshit.”
For a moment there I thought that Pennington and I could have been great partners. “I feel like an ass anytime I ask her questions about how she does what she does, what she sees....”
He smiled. “Glad I’m not the only one.”
I followed his gaze to the back door. Maybe Cassie would finish sooner with both of us staring at it. “What about your partner over there?”
“Oh, yeah, for sure. He eats it up, man. It’s part of his culture. Ingrained, right? He grew up with village witches, that kind of shit.”
“Where’s he from?”
Pennington started to answer, but both of us lost focus as Cassie pulled the door open. She stepped into the sunlight, pale, a sheen of light sweat across her forehead.
“Well?” Pennington moved to within a foot of her.
“Alice?”
He waved with two fingers to his partner. “What about her, Cassie?”
“She’s alive.” She bit her lip, then added, “Well, she was after that night.”
“Anyone else?” he asked.
“One of the girls was butchered pretty badly. Stabbed repeatedly. Her face was carved up.”
Cervantes moved forward and swatted Pennington’s arm. Pennington backed him up a couple of feet.
“Give her some space,” he said.
“Thank you,” Cassie said.
“Did you see who did it?” Cervantes asked.
“I did see a male, but it was when I touched a doorknob. I didn’t, you know, actually see him killing anyone.”
Pennington said, “Do you remember his face?”
She nodded, releasing strands of hair which she quickly tucked behind her ears.
They went silent. The two men stared at Cassie. She glanced at the grass in an effort to avoid their stares, or maybe to pick up on something else. I breathed in the hot air and waited to hear their next move.
“Let’s go back to the precinct,” Pennington said. “Got some pictures you can look through. If none of those work, we’ll get a sketch artist to meet you at your place.”
“Sounds good.” She looked up at me. “You coming along?”
“I—”
“He’s not invited to the desk,” Cervantes said.
“That’s what you call it?” I said. “The desk? That’s cute.”
“You want cute?” He pushed past Pennington and grabbed my shirt. The son of a bitch was fast.
I wrapped my left arm around his right, then jerked it up and back. He grunted and let go of my shirt. I took a few steps back, fists up, ready to go. Pennington wedged himself into the middle and shoved both of us further apart.
“Go on,” he shouted. “Go back to the car, Cerv. We can’t accomplish anything with that schoolyard shit.”
Cervantes threw up his hands in disgust. He hopped the fence and disappeared around the side of the house. Their sedan’s V-8 roared to life. The car door slammed shut.
“Maybe we should pick this up at my house,” Cassie said. “Prevent whatever turf war he’s perceived is going with Mitch.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” Pennington said. “And, Tanner, I’m sorry about my partner. I’ll have a talk with him. We’re all in this together, right?”
“Be sure to tell him he puts his hands on me again, I’ll break his arm in three places.”
“Mitch,” Cassie said.
“No, Cassie,” Pennington said. “It’s okay. I’d feel the same way if I was in Philly and someone treated me like this.”
After a few long breaths my pulse and breathing steadied. Wasn’t quite at normal levels, but the tense shakes exited through my fingertips.
“Let’s say two hours. Should be enough time for Cerv to cool off.” Pennington cut through the house to lock up.
Cassie wanted to remain outside. Perhaps she’d seen enough in there. We found the gate and made our way to the front yard. The rental car stood alone now. The detectives were gone and I finally had calmed all the way down.
I turned to crack a joke about Cervantes, but stopped mid-word at the sight of Cassie lying on the ground.
Chapter Seventeen
I rushed over to Cassie and knelt at her side. She was staring up at me, but it was as though she looked right through me.
“Cassie?”
She didn’t respond. Her eyes were unblinking.
“Is she okay?”
I looked back and saw a woman in her seventies wearing a green track suit standing on the sidewalk. Her Shih Tzu had its head cocked to the side.
“Should I call the ambulance?” the woman asked.
I waved her off and redirected my attention to Cassie. I put my hand on her cheek and turned her face toward me. “Can you hear me?”
She slammed her eyelids shut, shook her head, and mumbled something. Her body went rigid. She shook violently for about ten seconds. And then it was over. She sunk into the grass like she’d fallen asleep.
“Cassie? Come on, what’s going on?”
The old woman said, “I’m calling the ambulance now.”
“Just let her be,” I said. “I’m a cop. I got this.”
The old woman cursed at me and dragged her barking dog away. It stood with its legs locked. I turned to yell at it but noticed it wasn’t looking at me or Cassie. It was focused on something else. What did it see that I couldn’t?
“Mitch?” Cassie placed her frigid hand on mine. Her flushed cheeks stood out on her pasty face. The color spread in the next few seconds. “What happened?”
“You tell me. One minute we’re walking and the next you’re flat on your back staring up at the sky.” I pulled her up to a sitting position. “Did you see something?”
Her eyes misted over as she shook her head. “I don’t know. Don’t remember a thing. I blacked out.”
This wasn’t the place to press her for answers. A few neighbors had gathered across the street. The woman and her dog joined them. The beast had stopped its racket. Whatever haunted Cassie had fled.
“All right, well, let’s get you home.” I pulled Cassie to her feet and helped her to the car. We drove straight to her house. Both our cell phones rang several times along the way. Neither of us answered or bothered to check who had called.
I half-expected to see Pennington and Cervantes waiting for us at her house to make another attempt at dragging her down to the station. The street in front was deserted. No one waited on the porch. I canvased the area, sweeping my gaze across the windows of the surrounding houses. No one lingered in the shadows. Business as usual, it seemed.
We headed inside. Cassie retreated to her room, saying she’d be good to go after an hour or so of rest. Fine by me. I headed into the kitchen, poured out the stale coffee, and started a fresh pot. Over the next ninety minutes I drank three cups and caught up on all the latest football news. It was a good week to be away since my Eagles were on a bye. All I needed was for the Cowboys to lose and at least I’d be somewhat happy.
It had been Sam who had called while Cassie and I were driving back to her house. He hadn’t left a message, and wasn’t picking up now. Did he have something new regarding my suspension? It would be like Huff to have Sam relay it to me.
I was on the phone with Momma checking up on Ella Kate when Cassie entered the kitchen. She’d changed into a pair of pink gym shorts and a white tank top. In the years I’d known her, I couldn’t recall ever seeing her bare arms or legs. The scars from her attack were visible, peeking out from the fabric clinging to her breas
ts. I must’ve let my eyes linger a second too long, because she folded her arms across her chest to cover up. I glanced up. Her cheeks were red, but she forced a smile.
“Sorry, I forgot you were here. I should’ve covered up better.”
“Hey, it’s your house. Do what you want. I’m not really complaining.”
“Mitch….” She looked flustered for a second. “I should change anyway. Those two will be here soon. Cervantes always ogles me, and I don’t want to give him any more imagery than I have to.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want that guy walking around thinking about me.”
“He already is, except in your case, he’s thinking of ways he can get rid of you.” A smile played at the corner of her lips. “Or pound your face into the concrete.”
“Spirits tell you that?”
She smiled and shrugged and then left the room. I leaned over to watch her walk down the hall. A few minutes later she returned wearing dark jeans and a black sweater.
“It’s still almost ninety degrees out, you know,” I said.
“I’m comfortable.”
“You must’ve been freezing before. Every time you’ve touched me, it felt like ice formed on my skin.”
She rolled her eyes as she grabbed my empty mug off the table. I caught a hint of Moroccan oil as her hair spilled over her shoulder. “The coffee’s fresh?”
“Made it while you were napping.”
She grabbed a second mug, filled both, and returned to the table. The next fifteen minutes were spent in an oddly comfortable silence. I checked my phone a couple times, finding nothing new, while Cassie flipped through the pages of a local Savannah Living magazine. Live oaks dripping with Spanish moss adorned the cover.
The knock at the door we’d been waiting on finally arrived. I waited in the kitchen while she attended to the guests. She returned with Pennington close behind. He nodded as he shrugged off his sport coat. It caught on his pistol’s handle. After he freed it, he draped the coat over a chair and sat down.
“Where’s the brooder?” I asked.
Pennington flashed a grin. Looked like he bleached his teeth. They were the brightest thing in the room. “Sent him home for the afternoon. His kids got a Fall Ball baseball tournament. Cerv was pretty broken up that he couldn’t coach the team. It’s pretty much his only way of connecting with his boys. But our case load is too damn heavy what with the budget cuts that’ve stripped our department bare. I’m sure you can relate.”
