Hide'n Go Seek (Book 2 of Psychic Visions, a paranormal romance)

by Dale Mayer

  Grant held the door open for them. "I'll need about ten minutes to finish up here."

  Rain drizzled from the gray clouds overhead, forcing Brenda and Kali to make a dash for the vehicle. Shiloh beat them to the car. Kali fired up the engine and drove in the direction Brenda's home.

  As soon as she pulled onto the main road, Brenda bubbled over like a water pipe that had popped a cap. "Now that we're alone, what's with you and Grant? He couldn't take his eyes off you. How come you didn't tell me you had a dish on the side?"

  Kali shot her a disbelieving look and changed lanes.

  "Typical. You didn't even notice," Brenda said wryly.

  Really? Another quick look at her friend confirmed it. "Seriously?"

  "Yeah, girlfriend."

  "Oh." Warmth bloomed in her chest. Maybe there was something solid there. Good. She could work with that.

  Brenda giggled.

  She pulled up outside Brenda's house. "Home. Thanks for helping this afternoon."

  Collecting her purse from the floor, Brenda commented, "You never did explain what's going on. I got that it's all hush-hush. Grant did give that whole thank you for coming your cooperation is appreciated line. But still...a little more, please. You know my curiosity - it's going to kill me!"

  "Several people have been kidnapped and two, possibly three have been murdered. This guy could be a suspect." Kali stared out the front windshield. "Don't go out with anyone you don't know really well."

  "Good enough." Brenda shuddered as she opened the door. "The same warning applies to you. Thanks for a unique afternoon."

  "Stay safe." The door slammed shut and Kali repeated the words to the empty interior as her friend disappeared into the house. Checking her mirrors, Kali reversed her car, and drove toward the center. She'd forgotten to call Stan. The traffic thickened but hadn't reached the critical point of no forward movement. The picture she'd drawn dominated her thoughts. She should know him. She did know him. She just didn't recognize him. How sad was that. She'd spent so much time hidden away from the public, she couldn’t even place a new look on an old face.

  Driving with deft skill, she maneuvered the Jeep forward, taking the next left and then the long stretch leading to the center. She hoped the news of Brad's demise hadn't made it here yet. It shouldn't have, but bad news always travelled. The mores secretive the better. She didn't think she could deal with that right now. Tomorrow would be soon enough. Several vehicles pulled out as she pulled in. A class must be finishing.

  Kali waited for a car to pull out before she took its spot close to the front. She checked out the lot but didn't spot Grant's car anywhere. She strode through the front doors, propped wide open as always.

  Once again the center was a mad selection of dogs and people. It seemed like Stan's plans to bring in more business were doing well. Laughter and conversation filled the air punctuated by barks and woofs from the many different dogs. Everything was so normal looking. How could the rest of the world carry on oblivious to the danger that stalked them?

  Needing a touch of normalcy herself, Shiloh enjoyed making the rounds, catching hugs and scratches from friends old and new. Kali waved at a couple people she knew on the way to the coffee pot. Empty as usual. So what else was new? Stan could probably use a cup. She took a minute to make a fresh pot.

  "You're gonna share, that aren't you?"

  "Jarl." Kali gave him a big hug. Stepping away, she peered into his tired face. "Wow, where were you? You look like hell."

  His weary face creased into a grin. "That feels about right. Been doing graveyard work. Hell's been a prime topic lately."

  She laughed. "You realize the workers are supposed to do the digging."

  Jarl tugged on his scraggly beard. "But I like playing in the dirt."

  She shook her head at him. "What type of project this time?"

  "Moving an old graveyard." His face scrunched at the memory. "When the land was resurveyed, the old one was outside of the church's property lines."

  He took a sip of hot coffee, watching as Kali filled two mugs.

  Nodding toward the cups, he asked, "Thirsty?"

  "One's for Stan."

  "I didn't know he was here," Jarl checked the field outside the window where a class had started. "I searched earlier but didn't find him."

  Kali smiled at the familiar line of dogs and owners. The owners tried to get the dogs to pay attention and the dogs tried to get the owners to let them do their own thing. "He's probably in his office. I'm trying to bribe my way in." Kali held up the two cups. She needed to make an announcement to let everyone know about Brad, but first she should see if Stan had mentioned it to anyone and what they needed to do for a memorial. Brad had been well-loved here. Everyone would be needed. Everyone would want to say good-bye.

  "There's a mess of things to catch you up on. First though, I have a few of the details to sort out with Stan."

  "Perfect. I'll talk to you later." Jarl joined the long table of people on the veranda. A hue and cry rose at the sight of the fresh coffee and a stampede headed her way. Kali escaped.

  Kali set the coffee cup on the large bookcase in the hallway beside Stan's door and knocked twice.

  No answer. "Stan? It's me, Kali. Can I come in?"

  Silence. Kali tried to the knob. The damn thing was locked. Shit. Kali pounded on the door. No answer. Something was definitely wrong. Checking her pockets, she realized she only had her car keys on her. She didn't carry the spares for Second Chance if she didn't need to.

  Could he have gone home? Pulling out her cell phone, she speed-dialed Stan's number. His voice mail played immediately. Shit.

  Kali jumped back where the strip of light showed under the door. Shiloh barked sensing Kali's distress.

  "Kali?" Grant walked toward her. "What's wrong?"

  "Thank God, you're here." She motioned toward the door. "Stan's door is locked and he's not answering his cell phone. Something's wrong. I need to get in." She jiggled the doorknob again, despite her shaking fingers. The sense of urgency slammed through the roof.

  "Step aside." Grant reached into his rear pants pocket, opened his wallet, and slid out a thin metallic tool. Kali watched as he fiddled with the lock, then turned the knob. It opened under his hand. Kali pushed the door open and rushed inside.

  The office light shone on the old scarred desk piled high with tumbling stacks of paperwork. There was no sign of Stan. Perplexed, Kali strode to the other side of the desk and gasped.

  He lay in a crumpled heap on the floor.

  "Oh my God, Grant, he's hurt."

  Kali fell beside the older man, but Grant beat her to him. "Thank God, he's alive." She reached for the phone and called 911. With so many SAR members at the center, she couldn't think if she'd seen anyone on her way through. They all had medical training of various levels as she did. Some of her panic eased with Grant crouched at Stan's side. His movements swift and sure, he opened Stan's shirt and ran his hands over the prone body, searching for injuries. When he withdrew his hand from beneath Stan's head, it was covered in blood.

  "Oh, no!"

  Grant gave her a sidelong glance but said nothing.

  Stan's desk drawer sat open a couple of inches and his computer hummed. Odd, his monitor was off. She frowned. Using a pen, Kali clicked it on. The desktop appeared right away but showed no open documents.

  Puzzled, she asked, "Grant, there are no open files on his computer, so why would the monitor be switched off?"

  Pulling his attention away from Stan, he sent a fleeting glance toward the screen. "Don't touch anything."

  "Do you...suppose someone attacked him?"

  Grant countered. "Can you find anything he might have hit his head on?"

  Kali walked around the office. The wall behind the office chair held a large map taped to its smooth surface. The corners of the desk showed no blood stains and the filing cabinets were on the other side of the room.

  "Not that I can see."

  "Thanks. Can you
direct the paramedics here, please? Don't discuss details with anyone and no one leaves. My team's on the way. They'll want to question everyone."

  Kali raced out.

  ***

  Julie pressed her face against the rough edge of the pipe, sucking in the fresh air. Hot tears seeped down her cheeks. She didn't know where she was or what she was trapped in. It felt like paper under her fingertips but had to be something stronger. She'd tried kicking her way through, but the cord keeping her ankles together hadn't given her much freedom for kicking. Not only had she not made a dent in what trapped her, but with her knees snuggled up to her waist, she could hardly move.

  Asshole.

  Her mouth was so dry she had trouble swallowing. She badly wanted a drink of water. And a blanket.

  The experts said time passed quickly when you floated in and out of consciousness. That a person wouldn't be aware of his surroundings. That he'd have no understanding of what was happening.

  The experts were wrong.

  Julie did drift in and out of conscious. She did float on a timeless vision of the reality she found herself in. But she fully understood what had happened. Somewhere in the mist, the fog wadded around her, holding the understanding close to her, just not sharp and in focus.

  The pain did that.

  Julie moaned again.

  "Awake again? Lovely."

  Julie opened her eyes, blinked against the falling dirt, before focusing on the small circle of light above her head. The pipe she'd found last time she'd awakened had become her symbol of hope. Anyone could find it anytime, accidentally or by design. Find it and her.

  Julie struggled to remind herself that she'd survived once. She'd do it again. Then she'd show this asshole the reality of being buried alive. Julie closed her eyes, tears streaking her muddy cheeks. God, she wanted to go home. Home. Where Kali had looked for her, searched for her, had an officer waiting for her. And what had she done? Gotten mad. She’d worked herself into a full blown hissy fit and hadn’t done what she’d been told to do. She’d been pissed at them all. What a hell of a time to come to her senses. When it was too fucking late.

  Through dry lips, she whispered, "Bastard."

  Laughter floated through the pipe.

  A small surge of anger whipped through her. Where the fuck was Kali?

  ***

  Kali burst through the front door, sirens audible on the main road. People ran behind her.

  "Kali, what's wrong?"

  "Hey, what's going on?"

  Kali shot them a frantic glance as the ambulance pulled into the lot. "Stan's collapsed."

  "Oh, no!"

  More people joined in the commotion. As soon as the EMTs emerged, Kali led the way to Stan's office. There she blocked the stream of curious onlookers. The arrival of Grant's men shifted the crowd back.

  Several moments later, Grant strode toward her. "They're stabilizing him now for the trip to the hospital. Do you want to drive or will I?"

  She closed her eyes briefly. "You drive."

  The paramedics were fast. Stan was wheeled to and loaded into the ambulance within minutes. Kali grabbed her keys and purse, locked up Stan's office and raced to the parking lot. Shiloh ran at her side.

  Grant drove from the lot amid the cries and good wishes to Stan. Kali waved to them through her tears. Stan was deservedly proud of what he'd built over the last decade. If anything happened to him, he'd be sorely missed. Kali immediately castigated herself for the negative thinking. Stan had hit his head, not collapsed due to a heart attack. His injury could be minor. It had to be.

  It wasn't.

  After almost an hour in the waiting room, Kali learned Stan suffered from a skull fracture complicated by intracranial bleeding. The doctors were monitoring his condition. Grant had explained the procedure the doctors planned to do if the bleeding and swelling didn't stop. Kali refused to contemplate anyone drilling a hole into Stan's skull. The idea of him with his lifeblood dripping away made her cringe.

  Stay positive.

  Kali rotated her neck to ease the ribbons of tension knotting her shoulders. She knew she should leave, but still hoped to see Stan, if only for a minute. Sitting there didn't help her mind-set. It gave her too much time to think. So much heartache. So many losses. David. Melanie. Brad. Julie. No damn it, not Julie. Kali jutted out her chin. Enough was enough.

  Her shoulders sagged. But what could she do? Grant and his team were questioning everyone at the center right now, according to what he'd said when she'd updated him on Stan's condition. The team had run the list of names she'd given them. The police report had arrived on the Bralorne murder. The profilers were expecting to have something soon. And then there was the sketch. According to Grant, the FBI was working on it.

  Kali felt distanced from it all. Her life had shifted, narrowing to a single focus - Stan. To lose him...well, she hadn't even dealt with the other recent losses yet. Emotion flooded her heart as tears welled. The losses had come so fast, there'd been no time to grieve. Time, a luxury she hadn't been afforded. When this hell finished, when there was time came to honor her friends the way she should, then she'd say good-bye.

  If she was lucky, she'd have sorted through her bewilderment and sense of betrayal, whether right or wrong, about Brad by then. How dare he have those feelings for her and not let her know? If he'd mentioned it, hinted at it just once, she'd have explained her position. Let him down gently. Hiccups happened in friendships. They'd loved each other - just differently. God, she missed him. Tears ran down her cheeks. Kali sniffled, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

  As she sat that, her tears shifted to frustration, then finally to anger. Something good needed to happen soon. She'd about had it with this bad news bullshit. Had the FBI found anything on Stan's computer? Or in his office? Attacking Stan was a dumb move and she had no doubt that's what had happened. If the killer had been there, someone saw him. And if the killer had made one mistake, maybe he'd made another.

  "Miss Jordan?"

  Kali stood up at the arrival of the older man in scrubs standing, worry immediately rising to the forefront. "Yes, I'm Kali Jordan." She wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

  The man held out his hand. "I'm Dr. Poole. Stan is doing slightly better. The bleeding in his brain has slowed." The doctor offered her a gentle smile. "We're monitoring the swelling. If he continues to improve through the night, we'll be able to upgrade his condition by morning."

  "Thank God for that." Kali beamed as the good news set in. "Is he awake?"

  "No, and he won't be soon. We're keeping him in a drug-induced coma."

  Kali's heart sank. She shoved her hands in her pockets, to stop from wringing them together. A coma didn't sound good. "Can I see him, please?"

  He motioned down the hallway. "I'll let you in for just a moment. Come with me."

  "Thank you," Kali grabbed her purse and coat then followed him. "I appreciate this."

  "Hospital policy states only relatives are allowed in, but the FBI tells me that you occupy a similar position in this gentleman's life."

  Sad but true. Kali knew of no relatives, close or otherwise, in Stan's life. His wife had died years ago.

  The doctor led her into the intensive care room where Stan lay covered in blankets, tubes running in all directions.

  "Oh, Stan," she whispered. The injury had aged him. His heavy wrinkles should be smooth in sleep, but thin and flat, they'd piled up on top of each other.

  "The swelling has distorted his facial features. But that's a temporary situation."

  Seeing him lying like this hurt. He had so much vitality, so much to give in him. His skin was now the color of plaster, lifeless. "At least that's something." Kali walked over to Stan's bedside. She placed her hand over Stan's cool still one. Beside him machines hummed with smooth efficiency.

  "Yes, but head injuries are tricky." The doctor returned the clipboard to the bed. "He's not out of the woods yet." He met her gaze straight on, a small smile in place. "Not to worry. We're doin
g everything in our power to make sure he pulls through."

  She hoped it would be enough. Stan looked so ill. "I know you will, but that won't stop me from worrying."

  "Caring does that to a person. Everyone deserves to be loved."

  True. Kali's heart ached. After she lost her dad, Stan had stepped in as a replacement. He'd become that father figure to talk to, to visit with, and to offer well-meaning advice regardless of how wrong it was.

  "Can I sit here for a few moments? I promise I won't disturb anything."