by Diane Hester
‘That’s it? A moment of weakness—that’s what we’re calling it?’
‘Look, if you want to blame someone, blame yourself. You shouldn’t have been so damn sympathetic.’
‘You find it easier when I’m a bastard, is that it?’
For an instant a smile lit her eyes. ‘Pretty much, yeah.’
‘Right. I’ll file that away for future reference.’
The smile vanished. She stood. ‘Don’t bother. There won’t be a next time.’
His hand shot out before his mind had processed the urge. Holding her wrist, he rose beside her. For some reason he couldn’t let this go. ‘So why was there a first?’
She looked away.
‘I deserve more than “a moment of weakness”.’ His grip on her wrist became a caress.
She tipped up her chin and slid her hand free. ‘Maybe I’m fed up with being intimidated by cops. Maybe I wanted to be in control of the situation for once.’
Her words were a splash of cold water in his face. ‘I intimidate you?’
‘Maybe I’m just sick of being good all the time. Nothing but study, day after day. The perfect student.’ She took a step back. ‘And maybe it was just what you said—in the state I was in I was reaching out, looking for comfort.’
‘You could’ve got that from any bloke on campus. Why me?’
She drew herself up before turning away. ‘Because I had nothing to lose with you. You already know what I am.’
Chapter 27
Lindsay hurried along the footpath, oblivious to the students around her. Her appointment with Ikeman wasn’t till noon but he’d told her she could come see him any time she felt the need. She felt it now. And she didn’t think he’d mind if she showed up a half-hour early.
Ever since seeing Bethany’s body in the park a strange feeling had been building inside her. She felt it like a wave beneath her, gathering force, lifting her forward at an ever-increasing speed towards …
Towards what? Disaster? Insanity? Something catastrophic to be sure. Yet maddeningly cloaked from awareness.
Whatever was coming, she knew the brief respite she’d had from her visions was simply the lull before the storm. Oh, she’d tried Dr Ikeman’s … Ron’s suggestion, but knew it hadn’t made the difference. In the three days since she’d seen him last she’d practiced the technique he’d showed her every chance she’d got. Yet she could no more tell the Theta wave mind state from any of the others he’d described.
Reluctantly she had to accept that the fact she’d not had a spell in six days was due to no action or effort on her part. She’d stopped having visions simply because there’d been nothing to see. The killer hadn’t chosen his next victim yet.
She slowed to a stop. That was it. The source of her tension. At some deeper level she must’ve known and managed to block it. A reality so awful anyone would try to suppress it—she was feeling what he was feeling.
With the thought fully formed, a shudder coursed through her. She staggered from the footpath onto the grass and bent double as a cramp hit her stomach.
Beneath the skeleton of a plane tree she stood gasping as though she’d been running. His need was growing. Yes, she could feel it. A hunger so virulent and beyond comprehension she could barely force herself to acknowledge it. And somehow, through her psychic gift, he was dragging her along for the ride.
She slapped her hand over her mouth. Please, dear god, don’t show me his thoughts. Don’t make me go there. I don’t want to see inside his mind!
Lindsay held on, using Ikeman’s meditation technique to control her panic. Slowly her breathing returned to normal. The tension, along with the knowledge of what had caused it, receded to manageable levels once more. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes.
Across the footpath, sheltered by shrubs that flanked the refectory, two figures stood in close communion. Closer than one would have liked, Lindsay thought, noting the young woman shrinking back against the building. The other, a man of middle years, had assumed a domineering stance before her.
Lindsay grimaced. Professor Collier. In all his puffed-up, limp-handed splendour. What was he haranguing this poor student about? She shook her head. Whatever it was, it was none of her affair.
Two steps further on, she stopped again. Something in the way the girl was standing, head bowed, clutching her notebook to her chest … Clearly she was feeling deeply intimidated. What’s more, Lindsay realised she knew her, if only by name. Merrita Hobson, a first-year student. It seemed Collier, like all predators, had a knack for spotting the weakest prey.
‘This is the second assignment you’ve missed this term. I’m afraid I can make no further allowances.’
Lindsay blinked. She’d heard Collier’s words as clearly as if she’d been standing beside him yet a good twenty metres separated them. The wind must be blowing in her direction.
The young woman mumbled something in response. An excuse of some kind, judging from her teacher’s reaction. ‘I don’t care if Bethany was your friend. If you can’t deal with what happened to her, apply to the chancellor for a leave of absence.’
This drew an impassioned plea from Merrita, evidenced only by her shaking head and desperate expression. Lindsay’s frown deepened. Why was it only Collier’s words she could hear?
‘In that case you might consider an alternative,’ he said to the girl.
Lindsay froze. She gave up wondering how it was possible and fixed on the tone and meaning of his next words, suggestions she had heard herself.
She waited tautly for Merrita’s reaction then slumped when she heard it. Whether because she was an underclassman, naturally timid or in a fragile state, the girl was obviously not up to facing such a threat.
Lindsay fought the urge to rush to her aid. It was none of her business what went on between Collier and other students. She had her own problems to deal with—episodes and dreams, fear and fatigue, slipping grades, nightmares, feelings of dread and helplessness …
It happened suddenly. One minute she was standing resolute, the next she was striding across to the pair. All at once she had had enough. Enough of battling things she couldn’t see, against which there could be no effective defence. Collier was at least an enemy she could confront.
Halfway there she broke into a jog, just another student late for class. As she neared her target she picked up speed. Her approach concealed by the massive shrub, she charged around it. Straight into Collier.
The man was all but knocked off his feet. He stumbled sideways, dropping the stack of papers he’d been holding.
‘Oh, Professor!’ Lindsay cried. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.’
He righted himself and glared at her. ‘You idiot! Of all the stupid, irresponsible—’ He looked about him in dawning horror. ‘My papers!’
Collier leapt forward, snatching and clawing but catching little more than air. Most of the papers settled in puddles along the bitumen but a few went pinwheeling across the grass. As he ran off in pursuit, Lindsay turned to the girl who stood watching.
‘Forget what he said to you. You’ve got a legitimate excuse so there’s no way he can fail you. Just get your assignment in when you can. The chancellor will back you.’
Merrita stared at her in confusion. ‘How did you—’
‘It doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that he’s not going to give you any more trouble. I promise you.’
Merrita blinked at her another moment then turned to look out over the grass. The sight of Collier chasing his papers brought the ghost of a smile to her lips. She looked back at Lindsay, nodded her thanks then hurried away.
Lindsay bent and picked up the papers around her feet. She held them out as Collier came towards her, red-faced and panting.
‘You have got to be the most thoughtless, clumsiest—’
He broke off abruptly to stare at his hand. Lindsay had held on tightly to the papers, refusing to release them till she had his attention. ‘I overheard the conversation
you were having.’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘Eavesdropping now? What were you doing, hiding in the bushes?’
‘I’ve explained to Merrita that you’re not going to pressure her anymore, either for her assignment or anything else. I hope I make my meaning clear.’
His jaw clamped tighter. ‘I find it hard to believe you’d jeopardise your chances of graduating, Cavenaugh.’
‘Believe it. And while you’re at it, believe something else. If Merrita doesn’t pass your course this term, both she and I will be paying the chancellor a visit about what happened here today. In fact I’m sure if I ask around, I’ll find a few other girls with similar stories they’d be willing to share.’
A fury she’d never seen before flashed in his eyes. All at once it wasn’t a pathetic innocuous creep standing before her but something a thousand times more dangerous.
Collier snatched the papers from her hand and stormed away, leaving her to wonder if she hadn’t made a serious mistake.
***
Ikeman took the last electrode from Lindsay’s temple and scanned the data his printer fed out. ‘You’ve accomplished a lot in three days. According to these readouts you’re reaching a fairly deep level of relaxation.’
Still coming out of her meditation, Lindsay lay comfortably gazing up at him. ‘So what happens now?’
‘Well, that depends on whether you feel this approach is working for you. How have you been feeling overall?’
‘Up and down.’ For a moment she was tempted to talk about Macklyn and reveal that part of the ‘down’ side of things was her growing confusion about her feelings for the man. Unlike every other shrink she had known, Ikeman made her feel she could talk about anything. But she wasn’t really here for that.
‘What about at night?’ he said. ‘How have you been sleeping, any more nightmares?’
‘No. Not since the last one I told you about.’
‘Are you finding it easier to concentrate on your studies?’
‘A little bit, yes, but …’
He arched his brows.
‘I don’t really feel it has anything to do with the meditation.’
‘So you think it’s only coincidence then.’ Ikeman sighed, clearly disappointed his idea hadn’t helped her. ‘What about waking episodes? Any more visions about the killer or his victims?’
She pushed herself to a sitting position, swinging her legs over the side of the couch. At the mention of the killer all remnants of her peaceful mood disappeared. ‘No, no spells.’
‘Well, that’s good news. It’s what we were after, at any rate. And you can’t rule out that the meditation didn’t have at least something to do with it.’
‘No, of course not.’ She didn’t want to tell him she was certain it hadn’t; he seemed to be trying so hard to help her.
As he took up the print-out to study it again, her attention drifted to the painting on the wall, the one she’d been staring at since she’d settled on the couch. ‘That doesn’t look like a print to me.’
Ikeman followed her gaze and smiled. ‘No, it’s an original. Linus Gimbell, a budding South Australian painter.’
‘It’s beautiful.’
He swivelled in his chair to give the piece his full attention. ‘I have a few more of his at home but that’s my favourite. I fancy myself somewhat of a collector you see.’
‘I’d like to study art one day. If I ever get through my current degree. I often wander around the art gallery. Somehow it gets me fired up to play piano.’
Ikeman nodded. ‘I can’t remember who said it, but I once heard the quote, “In the presence of great art the spiritual person grows reflective, while the creative one becomes inspired.”’
‘I guess it makes sense when you think of it that way.’
He studied her a moment, smiling faintly. ‘You artists are a lucky bunch. You have such elegant means for showing the world what’s inside you. We scientists have to muddle along trying to express ourselves in words. And often they fail us when we need them most.’
His gaze held hers a moment longer, then he straightened in his chair. ‘Well, we’d better get on with these tests.’
Chapter 28
The door opened before he knocked on it.
‘Why Mr Macklyn, how lovely to see you again.’ Ellen Cavenaugh leaned to one side, straining to view the steps behind him. ‘Isn’t Lindsay with you?’
‘Not today. I was hoping I could have a word with you and your husband alone.’
The woman grew concerned. ‘She’s all right, isn’t she? Nothing’s happened to her.’
‘No, nothing’s happened.’ Apart from fainting spells and unexplained marks appearing on her body. ‘She’s as well as when you saw her the other day. Could we please go inside?’
‘Yes, of course.’
She turned and led him into the lounge room. ‘Warrick, Mr Macklyn is here to see us.’
Her husband rose from reading the paper and put out his hand. ‘Mr Macklyn, how good of you to pay us another visit.’
Mac took his hand. ‘Actually it’s Detective Macklyn.’
They stared at him blankly.
‘Police homicide. I’m investigating the murders at Lindsay’s campus.’
Ellen paled. ‘Oh god, something has happened?’
‘I assure you Lindsay’s unhurt.’
‘Then it must be the other thing—that girl in the park, Lindsay showing police where she was. How upsetting all that must have been for her.’
It was Mac’s turn to stare. ‘You know about that?’
‘We saw the article in the paper,’ Warrick said.
‘It was purely by chance; I don’t normally buy the Bulletin,’ Ellen said. ‘But I was at the market, going past the newsstand and … Well, suddenly there was my daughter’s face staring back at me. It was such a shock.’
Warrick put an arm around his wife’s shoulders.
Mac frowned. ‘But the other day, when Lindsay and I were here for lunch, you never said—’
‘She obviously didn’t want us to know what was happening so we didn’t bring it up.’ Warrick settled Ellen onto the couch. ‘Please, detective, have a seat.’
Mac took the chair across from them. ‘Why would Lindsay not want you to know she was having spells, as she calls them?’
‘That’s a rather complicated question,’ Warrick hedged. ‘In our family there’s a lot of history relating to Lindsay’s condition. Much of it unpleasant, I’m afraid.’
‘Lindsay’s had spells since she was a child.’ Ellen clung to her husband’s hand. ‘We never really understood what they were or how to handle them. No-one’s ever been able to explain it to us.’
‘The only thing we’re reasonable certain of is that the cause isn’t physical. Which leaves, I suppose, emotional problems or … some sort of extrasensory ability.’ Warrick looked down. ‘If you believe in that sort of thing.’
Mac shifted and scrubbed at his neck. Talking to these people was part of his job. Why did he feel like the world’s biggest louse just being here? As though he’d gone behind Lindsay’s back.
‘When her spells first started our greatest fear was that she was hallucinating.’ Ellen’s voice was tight with the strain. ‘If she’d been a teenager we might’ve worried it was drugs, but at five years old you don’t consider that that could be the problem. We did …’ She swallowed and drew herself up. ‘We did what we thought we had to at the time. Took her to specialists, tried various treatments. Nothing made a difference. Then, one day, her episodes simply stopped on their own.’
‘Just like that.’ Mac sat forward. ‘What age was she then?’
‘About fifteen.’
‘You have any idea why they stopped? Did Lindsay have any kind of explanation?’
‘None that she told us.’
‘We shifted house around that time,’ Warrick recalled. ‘It was a fairly big move. I always felt that had something to do with it.’
Mac took a breath. The moment ha
d come; he had to ask. But rather than be drawn on details, he’d get off the subject as quickly as possible. ‘In all the years she was having these episodes, did Lindsay ever suffer or display any physical after-effects from a spell?’
The couple frowned at him.
‘I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking,’ Warrick said finally.
‘Did she ever exhibit any unexplainable marks or bruises on her body?’
Ellen gasped. ‘Good heavens, no. Why would you even—’
‘So after you moved, her spells simply stopped and she didn’t have any more until recently.’
‘She had none till the time she graduated high school.’ Warrick look pained. ‘After that we can’t really say. We haven’t had much contact with Lindsay in the four years since she entered uni.’
In his mind’s eye Mac could see this man as he’d greeted his daughter two days earlier, clutching her to him as though he hoped to never let go. ‘Yes, she mentioned she hadn’t seen you in a while. She never said why.’
Ellen’s gaze held the slightest smile. ‘Is that relevant to your investigation, detective? Or are you asking for a different reason?’
Mac swore inwardly. Too right, the question was irrelevant. Time to get his head on straight and do the bloody job. ‘I understand this isn’t the first time Lindsay’s helped police with a case.’
The woman was briefly taken aback. ‘No, it isn’t. When she was fourteen there was a similar incident. A girl from her school went missing and was later found drowned in a dam.’
‘Found because Lindsay told police where her body was.’
‘That’s right.’
‘How did she know?’
‘She said she saw it in a dream.’
‘A dream meaning one of her visions.’
Something flickered behind the woman’s eyes. Suspicion or something more? ‘Exactly why are you here, detective?’
‘At this point there is still some question as to how Lindsay obtained certain information. From the start of our investigation of the killings she appeared to be in possession of knowledge that …’ Mac sighed inwardly. From here on there would be no turning back. ‘That only someone involved could have known.’
