But not today, I thought resentfully. He’s here. I can smell him on me. The realisation made me gag. I ripped off my clothes and shoved them as deep in the waste bin as I could.
Turning around in circles, I had a moment of uncertainty. What do I do? What do I do? I wailed again, a mix of anger and despair, as a new wave of tears flooded from my eyes. Stamping my foot, I aggressively wiped the wetness from my cheeks. “No! I won’t be a victim. I won’t.”
Determined, I gritted my teeth and faced my broken reflection in the mirror. “Nothing happened. That tosser didn’t get what he wanted.” I raised my chin higher. “Wash him away and find the strength to help the ones he’s really hurt.”
Stepping into the shower, I scrubbed every inch of my body. It was cathartic to be cleansed of the taint and filth the killer imposed on me. I let the feeling of contamination fall away with the water and flow down the drain into the sewer where it belonged.
Feeling better, although drained of energy, I stepped into the lounge. My phone rang, causing me to start. Grabbing it, I sat on the couch to enjoy the sunlight that played through the window before it disappeared behind the horizon. “Hello?”
“Hey, Cassie,” Seb greeted me back. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay. Thanks for asking. I’ve showered… I’m relaxing on the sofa, taking it easy now, but I’m considering a cup of tea.”
“Good, glad to hear it.” Seb cleared his throat. “I thought you might want to know that David Plinth has been formally charged.”
“Is that… him?” I wondered. “The killer from the health?”
“Yes,” Seb confirmed.
Inhaling deeply, I tried to calm the sound of my voice. “Besides kidnapping me and attempted…” I swallowed hard. “…rape, what’s he being charged with?”
“Carrying a knife illegally, using it to commit a crime, causing injury with it, and resisting arrest.”
“And what about Mandy Smith?” I asked.
“Unfortunately, we still don’t have enough for CPS to connect him to that crime.”
I knew the Criminal Prosecution Service would require more than just my word to charge him. They needed hard evidence. “I’m sorry I mucked this up for you, Seb.”
“Not at all,” my brother reassured me. “He’ll go to court for what he did to you, and then, we’ll start working to get the bastard to admit his involvement with Mandy Smith.”
I went silent for a moment. All this is because of me. I’m glad they got him, but I never intended to put myself at risk, nor anyone else. Shaking off my dark feelings, I said, “thank you for showing up.” Then, feeling snarky, I added, “and you’re welcome… you know, for catching your guy – Plinth, is it?”
Seb snorted. “Yeah, and you’re welcome. You know, for saving your damn life. Just, do me a favour, don’t ever put yourself at risk like that again.”
“You know I can’t promise that. After all, I’m about to make tea, which puts me near an open flame,” I teased.
Seb chortled. “Oh, Lord, let me alert the fire department. Hopefully, they can contain your damage before the city’s lost.”
And like that, the tension between us was lost amongst laughter. Of course, things never stayed bad between us. Despite our ups and downs, my brother and I were as close as siblings could. There was a deep love and respect between us, and not just because we were the last of our remaining family. No, we were truly friends.
After speaking for half an hour, we said our goodnights. Then, I got up and went to my kitchenette, situated along the back wall of the lounge. Grabbing the kettle from the stove, I jiggled it. When it made a sloshing sound, I emptied it before adding fresh water and setting it to boil.
Reaching into the cupboards above, I grabbed my favourite bedtime brew – a blend of lavender, chamomile, and rosemary. Opening the small container, I inhaled deeply. Even the aroma of the anxiety-reducing concoction soothed me.
I dropped a tea bag into my mug, then returned the package to its proper location. I didn’t have to wait long for the kettle before pouring its contents over the herbs to steep. As they did, I picked up my phone from where I had dropped it. I then dunked the tea bag a couple of time before dropping it into the bin. I walked through the lounge towards my bedroom and placed my cup on the bedside cabinet.
Having fluffed my pillows, I slipped between the cool sheets. An involuntary shudder rocked my body, though I wasn’t certain if it was from the cold or the echoes of my horrible day. At any rate, I gratefully reached for and sipped the hot beverage, enjoying the heat as it passed down my throat.
I knew things needed to be packed away – glimpses from the killer’s mind and my own horrific experiences. That took mindfulness and a lot of calming tea for me to be able to do. I closed my eyes, concentrating on my breathing for a moment as a soft breeze fluttered through the large picture window and ruffled the curtains. The way it gently kissed the mature red maple, which offered privacy from the street below, was like white noise for an infant.
Opening my eyes and looking around, I felt thankful for being home. I hated causing such a fuss, I thought as I sipped my tea. I didn’t want to go to the hospital, but the truth is, I was lucky it was there instead of the morgue.
I remembered how caring my brother had been, even though he was angry and disappointed. Despite the momentary discord between us, we knew our relationship always mended quickly. This allowed us to carry on without having to worry or rebuild bridges the way some families did. Somehow, we always seemed to understand one another.
Our mother had been a single parent. When she died of cancer, Seb and I continued to live in our childhood home together until he joined the police force, nine years ago. That was when he moved into training accommodations, and I was left alone in the large house.
I hated having so many rooms to myself. I was constantly checking the windows and doors, ensuring they were shut and locked. I never felt secure, so my brother sold our familial home. He used the profits to help me find and acquire my flat. Then, once Seb qualified, he bought a place outside the city for himself.
My brother’s house is a second home to me, though I spend most of my time in town. The High Street was an ideal place because I wanted to be amongst people. With our modest inheritance to subsidise my meagre income, I was able to completely refurbish and decorate my modest abode. Appreciating my good fortune, I try to keep it in good repair and freshen it up according to the seasons.
The current tones reflect rebirth with yellow, green, and blue – perfect after the long winter months. It’s late April, and Easter is just around the corner. It’s my favourite time of year because I love the warmth, blossoms, and, of course, the abundance of chocolate. I love chocolate!
I placed my now empty cup down and snuggled into bed. Peacefulness washed over me as the muted sounds from outside continued without stirring my senses. I could almost smell the freshness of Spring coming in through the open window.
With my anxiety reduced and the dark shadows tucked safely away, I finally dozed off, defeated by my exhaustion.
Sometime later, I was awoken by my phone ringing. As I groggily rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I presumed it was Seb again. Instead, it was a voice I didn’t immediately recognise.
“Cassie?” asked a rich baritone.
“Yes?” Butterflies fluttered in my tummy as I came instantly awake. It’s him! “Hello, Pedro?”
“Yes, hi,” he replied softly. “Is this a good time?”
“Yes, it’s fine.” It felt late, but glancing at the clock on the wall, I saw it was only eight o’clock. “I was just um… resting my eyes.”
“Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb your sleep,” he apologised. “Shall I call back?”
“No, no. I’m glad you rang.”
“Well, you gave me your card, so… I meant to phone sooner, but um, I didn’t have a chance until now. How are you – okay?”
“Yes, I’m good; thanks. You?”
“I�
�m well. I’m just, ah, not so great at small talk,” he admitted.
“Honesty. How refreshing,” I teased. The corners of my mouth pulled upward with amusement.
“Well,” he quipped, “there’s no sense trying to hide from an empath, is there?”
My head bobbed in affirmation though I knew he couldn’t see me. “I suppose not.” I giggled. “I’m glad you came to my session the other night.”
“Yeah, me, too. It was really interesting,” Pedro replied, sounding sincere. “My mother suggested I attend, and although we didn’t have a chance to chat in detail, it was good to see how it worked. It wasn’t quite what I envisioned.”
I curled the end of my red hair around my finger. “Don’t tell me – you expected someone older, maybe more gypsy-like, with a crystal ball?”
He laughed. It was an agreeable sound. “Something like that.” Pedro grew quiet for a moment before tentatively asking, “Perhaps we could… go for a drink, sometime?” When I didn’t respond immediately, he nervously added, “We don’t have to talk about Chantelle. We can talk about me if you want.”
“Chantelle?” I sat up straight.
“My sister. She’s been missing too long, which is why we are so worried. It’s why I came to you, fearing she might be... might be…”
The butterflies turned to starlings and surged round my tummy, making me feel queasy. “Chantelle,” I repeated. That’s why Pedro kept coming to mind while I spoke to the killer. It all made sense now.
“Yes, you’ve probably seen her on the news. We still have press hanging around and my poor mother is finding it hard to cope.”
“I’ve heard. I’m sorry, Pedro.”
There was a massive search in progress. It involved multiple agencies, including the police, search and rescue, and members of the public. Still, nothing was found yet.
“Thank you,” Pedro said, “it’s been tough all around. The police are doing all they can, but we just hoped you could help in some way. That, maybe, thinking outside the box would help get a break in the case.”
I paused. I wasn’t sure this was a good idea. It’d be like mixing business and pleasure, which always led to complications.
“Look,” he said, clearly sensing my hesitation, “I’m not going to hold you to anything. Let’s just go for coffee. I like a nice cappuccino, don’t you?”
“Yeah, okay,” I acquiesced, unable to resist the lure of his voice.
Despite my reservations, I arranged to meet Pedro at The Dandelion Café the next day. I knew it was a conflict of interest, but I couldn’t help feeling a sliver of excitement. I’d just have to be careful not to discuss the investigation with him. Besides, it wasn’t like we were getting married. It was just drinks.
Chapter 5
The Dandelion Café was a pretty place. With gingham blue and white curtains that only went halfway up the window, you could see outside, yet still have privacy while you ate. The staff was always friendly, especially the head waitress and manager, Sue.
Whenever business was quiet, Sue came over to sit and chat with me. Being a regular, we became friends quickly. She has no children and lives locally with her husband, who I’ve met on more than one occasion. He’s a nice man, but I’d expect nothing else considering the people in our neighbourhood, not to mention Sue herself.
Sue is one of the kindest people I know, and luckily, she doesn’t mind if I meet my clients at the café. She says I’m as much of a fixture there as she is, and that I bring in paying customers, so it’s of mutual benefit. I think it’s nice and hospitable, even though she says it’s just good business sense.
When I arrived five minutes before my scheduled date with Pedro, Sue nodded at me, signalling she’d be right over. I gestured for her to take her time since I was waiting for someone to join me, though my body protested. My stomach rumbled as the aroma of cooked food reached my nostrils. It tempted me to order immediately, but it would be rude if my date arrived, and I was already eating.
I fiddled with the satin scarf I wore to hide the newly acquired cut on my neck as I played over the recent events involving the killer from the heath. I’d have thought Seb would’ve been more pleased than he was to have this Plinth fellow in custody. If it wasn’t for me going after him, I doubt they would’ve caught him this quickly. Might he really be the man who took Chantelle?
I didn’t want to lie to Pedro about what I knew. Although the truth was, I didn’t really know anything. I just hated feeling like I was keeping secrets. Secrets… the wheels of my mind began to churn.
What if Plinth has Chantelle? I wondered. What does his capture mean for her wellbeing?
“Hi, Cassie,” Pedro’s baritone greeted me warmly.
Being so lost in thought, I hadn’t seen him arrive until a shadow fell over me. Jumping to my feet, I exclaimed, “Pedro, hello!”
His irresistible laughter filled the room with cheer. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s fine. I was just thinking about something to eat. Do sit down.” I gestured across the table from me before returning to my seat.
Pulling out the chair opposite, he sat. His short, dark hair caught the light as it swept trendily back in a textured crop. His swarthy complexation was flawless and looked as though he’d been sun-kissed. And his cocoa-coloured eyes held a depth any woman would happily drown in.
Any discomfort I was feeling about the killer was instantly dissolved. All repellent thoughts or emotions were replaced by appreciation and temptation for this man alone. Pedro filled my senses.
“I hope you don’t think I’m being too pushy by asking you out,” he stated.
“Not at all. It’s nice to see you again.” I licked my lips. Very nice.
“And it’s a pleasure to see you, too, Cassie.”
I loved the way he said my name. It brought a smile to my face. Before I could say anything more, Sue arrived with her pen poised over her pad, ready to take our order.
“I’ll have a cappuccino, please,” said Pedro.
She jotted it down and looked askance at me.
“Yes, I’ll have the same, thank you.” I regarded my date. My date. I tried not to giggle aloud. After all, it was hardly a date yet. “Do you mind if I grab a sandwich? I’m starving.”
“Not at all,” he replied.
“Would you like to add something to your order, as well?” Sue asked him.
“No, thank you. I’m fine,” Pedro answered.
Sue returned her attention to me. “What kind do you want, Cassie? We’ve got beef and tomato, cheese and onion, egg mayonnaise—”
“Beef and tomato’s fine,” I answered with a smile, wanting Sue to hurry so I could talk with Mr. Beautiful Eyes.
“Horseradish sauce?”
“Yes, please,” I said, glancing at her before turning back to my handsome companion.
“Sounds good.” She wrote it down and returned to the counter.
Once Sue had gone, I resumed my conversation with Pedro. “I’m glad you’re not expecting to talk about your sister because I’m not sure how much I can tell you about her.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He beamed at me. “I’m just glad to have your undivided attention.”
He’s certainly got that, I thought. I knew my cheeks glowed crimson from the heat radiating off them. I lowered my eyes.
The brown Callister cardigan Pedro was wearing matched his beautiful eyes perfectly. His Latino features were just the visual feast to brighten my day. I gazed up at him through my lashes with what I hoped was an alluring smile.
Despite what he’d said, Pedro launched straight in about his sister. “It’s so unlike Chantelle to go missing. Mama and I are really worried. The police haven’t found her, and with this other girl taken from the heath found dead…” He threw his hands up in surrender. “Well, you can understand why we are concerned.” He took a breath.
Though he paused, I didn’t interrupt. I simply let Pedro talk. I figured the best thing to do was to just let
him get it out while I sat there, quietly listening.
“Being a twin makes us connected,” he continued. “So, I feel like I would know if something happened to her, but I feel nothing. I don’t know what to think now. Is she dead or alive?” He shrugged, and sadness emanated from him, despite the brave face he attempted to portray.
“We were always so close, Cassie. That’s why I don’t understand. I mean, if she isn’t dead, why hasn’t she come back? Chantelle wouldn’t leave like this, but I don’t feel like...” He paused again and shook his head. “I thought maybe you could confirm one way or another. At least, then, we’d have closure.”
I briefly shut my eyes. “Pedro, it doesn’t always work like that.”
Sometimes, the dead stood over the shoulder of the living, but there was no one behind Pedro. Like everyone else in the investigation, I lacked leads.
“The images get confusing,” I tried to explain. “There are so many voices that it's hard to hear or understand them all, sometimes. So, it’d be too difficult for me to look for her amongst them when she may not even be dead.”
Sue returned with our coffee and my sandwich, nicely cut in two and served on a plate with a little salad and a portion of crisps.
“Thanks,” I said before taking a healthy bite. After swallowing it down, I picked up my cup and blew on the top, causing a bubble of froth to leap out onto the middle of the table. “Oh, sorry,” I apologised, wiping it with my finger and making a dirty streak across the top. “Oops. I’m such a klutz.”
Pedro reached over to the empty table beside us, snatched an unused napkin, and then wiped up my mess. It wasn’t the first time someone had cleaned up after me – not even the first time that week.
I don’t know why messes follow me around. The random thought made me wonder if the voices from the dead could shame Plinth into giving up. I took a swig of coffee, enjoying the hot liquid in my throat. If only it were that easy.
The Killer on the Heath (The Cassidy Newbold, Clairvoyant Collection Book 1) Page 3
