Tapestry of the Past

by Alvania Scarborough

  Damn. She’d wanted him to forget it. So why was she getting so upset?

  Good lord, had a part of her actually hoped he would insist on discussing last night’s fiasco? Hoped that he’d declare it—she—meant more to him than a fleeting moment of passion?

  If so, those hopes had taken a direct hit with his easy acceptance.

  Oh no. She so refused to explore that path. With the strength of will that had allowed her to recover after the disaster three years ago, she turned her attention to his statement that he wanted to go through her files. “Look, I’ve got to tell you. I am very uncomfortable letting you see my clients’ files. I have an obligation to keep their information confidential. They trust me.”

  Gabriel stopped chewing. “That’s the real problem, isn’t it? You don’t trust me.”

  Appalled that he’d misunderstood her, she protested, “That’s not it! It’s not a matter of not trusting you. Exactly,” she tacked on as it dawned on her that, in a way, he was right. She kept watch over her clients’ files the way a broody hen watched her nest.

  “Yes, it is,” he said. “It is exactly a matter of trust.”

  The intensity in his eyes refused to allow her to prevaricate. Kalesia knew what she said next was very important. And not just in the obvious way. “I don’t know you. How can I trust you with my files?”

  “You’re trusting me with your life.”

  “That’s different,” she defended, then shut her mouth with an inaudible groan. Really, could she sound any more stupid? “Major Harley said you could help.”

  Well, hell. Obviously, she could.

  To her chagrin, he didn’t say anything, just looked at her.

  “Well, he’s a sheriff’s officer! He wouldn’t have sent me here if he had doubts about your ability.” Let’s just see how deep we can dig the hole, Brannigan. If the man didn’t think you crazy before, he would now.

  He lifted a brow.

  It was time to call it quits. She was being ridiculous and they both knew it. Besides, she did trust him. Had from the moment she’d met his haunted gaze. It was just that when it came to her files she was like an overprotective mother. It was hard to give them into someone else’s keeping. Even temporarily. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust you in some way,” she muttered. The narrowing of his eyes said he was aware that she was hedging. It wasn’t rational and she couldn’t explain it but Kalesia couldn’t ignore the tiny whisper that warned against admitting out loud the depths of her trust. A therapist would have a field day with her. “You can see them but I want to be there when you do.”

  He pushed his plate away and pulled a yellow legal pad closer. “You said the vision of your death is your first precognitive one?”

  Appetite abruptly gone, Kalesia dropped a half-eaten biscuit and shoved her plate to the side. “Yes.”

  Gabriel made a note on his pad. “Is this the first vision you’ve had that pertains to you?”

  She nodded. “I don’t get visions about winning the lottery, about how to avoid an accident. I get visions about murder after the fact. Death. Violence. Believe me. I wish it was different.”

  “Any idea why it was this time?”

  Kalesia lifted both shoulders in a helpless shrug, at a total loss to explain. Always she got a vision of murder after the fact. Those visions were disturbing enough but if her ability was growing, was beginning to latch onto the violence before the event occurred, Kalesia truly thought she might go insane.

  “None. I can’t even begin to explain why I have visions.”

  “According to what you told me last night, there have been nine men, six women and two children. We’ll start with the children. Tell me about those visions.”

  Kalesia winced. After the visions of the children’s violent deaths, she’d been physically ill for several days. The unfairness of their deaths, the fact that a child’s life could be quenched without a second thought, hit her like the pain of a broken bone. Only this pain refused to heal and go away.

  She rubbed sweaty palms on the thighs of her jeans, wishing she could rub the guilt away as easily. Although she knew the children were already beyond help by the time she saw their broken little bodies, she couldn’t rid herself of the notion she had not done enough. She began.

  By the time lunch had come and gone, a vicious pain throbbed behind her right eye. Each memory Gabriel pulled from her, some she’d thought impossible to remember after so many years, became a shard of glass in her skull. By the time late afternoon was throwing long shadows on the immaculate lawn, Kalesia was certain she was going to throw up. Bile burned the back of her throat.

  Gabriel Steele had to be the most insensitive, unfeeling man she’d ever had the misfortune to meet. Like his name, the man had a heart of steel. He didn’t seem to care that these were real people, dead, their murders all but forgotten. He prodded, he poked, his tone so damned dispassionate.

  “Did you keep track of the outcome of the murders?”

  A serrated edge of anguish knifed through her. “Yes, I did.” She hugged her stomach. “All but four were solved.”

  Gabriel sat forward, suddenly alert. “Which four?”

  Something in his voice made her sit up straighter on the sofa. “The little boy, the woman I saw in a limestone quarry, the man found three years ago and the one a year later. Why? Do you really think one of them might have a bearing on the vision of my death?” Sweet mercy, she hoped so. Horrible as it was, she preferred it to random chance.

  Gabriel hesitated before nodding. “It’s a possibility. At this stage of the game anything is possible. There is a very real chance it will turn out to be a blind alley,” he warned. “I’ll give Tom a call and see what he can find out about your unsolved visions. I need to call anyway, to see if he found out anything about the break-in.”

  “When did you call Major Harley?” Kalesia asked, surprised.

  “Last night, while you were settling in. I didn’t see much point in him getting an officer over there. I doubt the intruder was sloppy enough to leave prints. Besides, there was very little evidence to point to unlawful entry.” He shrugged.

  Kalesia had no trouble getting his meaning. “You mean you doubt the cops would believe anything had occurred.”

  “As I said, the perp left very little evidence. Don’t take it so personally.”

  “Don’t take it personally? It’s not your life being threatened!”

  “Neither is yours. Yet.” He stood, stretched, then walked toward the doorway.

  “Gee, thanks for the words of encouragement, Mr. Steele. I feel much better,” she said tartly. Oddly enough, the headache was gone.

  Gabriel grinned over his shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

  Struck by the sight of his smile, Kalesia forgot to follow right away.

  * * * * *

  “I have another favor to ask.” Gabriel took a sip of coffee that nearly scalded his mouth. He set the mug down on the kitchen counter. He really needed to cut back on the stuff.

  “Before this is through, you’re gonna owe me big-time, Gabe. I don’t usually go around making inquiries for a crime that hasn’t even been officially reported.”

  “Quit complaining. It’s your own damn fault.” Gabriel felt a flash of amusement as the other man’s sigh came through loud and clear on the phone.

  “Yeah, so you’ve already told me. Sending her your way seemed like such a good idea at the time. But you’re the one who needs a little chaos in your life, not me.”

  “Tough.” Gabriel had no sympathy. “Turn up anything on the break-in?”

  Harley became all business. “Not even her next door neighbor, Mrs. Carstairs, saw anything. And I can guarantee that old lady doesn’t miss the smallest detail. Sharp. Are you sure it happened? That Ms. Brannigan didn’t imagine it?”

  “She says it happened and I believe her.” Damned if he knew why but he did. “That’s why I brought her back with me. Even if her vision was nothing more than a dream, she’s safer here tha
n at her house. At least until I can discover what the guy was after.”

  “So what’s the favor?”

  “I need you to see what you can dig up on four homicides.” There was a long silence at the other end of the phone.

  “More visions?” Harley sounded resigned.

  “More visions.” Gabriel tried another sip of coffee. “I doubt they’re connected to Kalesia’s vision of her death but I don’t want to take any chances.” Gabriel rattled off all the details he had, which, when you came down to it, didn’t amount to much.

  “That all you got?”

  Gabriel heard the swinging door to the kitchen open. Kalesia came to a stop beside him and tapped him on the shoulder. “That’s it. I’ll let you know if I find out more.” She hit him again, harder this time. Gabriel turned his head and glared.

  “Tell him they should have reports on the murders,” she hissed.

  He ignored her. “Okay, I appreciate it, Tom.” Gabriel hung up.

  “Well? What did he have to say? And why didn’t you tell him that an officer took a report each time?”

  He shrugged. “Tom said he’ll look into the matter. And he heard you.”

  “He had to say more than that.”

  “He said no one went near your house last night or today,” he told her, knowing his short answers were frustrating her.

  “And?” Kalesia planted her fists on her hips. Gabriel hid a smile. Here, in the stark white of his kitchen, dressed in a bright yellow shirt and matching jeans, she looked like an infuriated butterfly. Gabriel discovered an unsuspected partiality toward butterflies. She began tapping her toe on the white tile of the floor.

  “He said he’d get back to me when he had something.”

  “Listen here, Gabriel Steele, I have a right to…” She trailed off as a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

  “Who would have thought you had a sense of humor,” she grumbled.

  Certainly not him, Gabriel thought as he felt a small shaft of sunlight enter his soul. He bathed in the sensation as he stared down into her eyes. The woman who had entered his life against his will was a kaleidoscope—vivid, ever-changing, vibrant with passion and life.

  His humor stilled. He wanted to kiss her. So bad his teeth ached. And that wasn’t the only thing aching. His erection pushed against his jeans. Son of a bitch. Hadn’t last night taught him anything? Survival instincts fought masculine instincts and lost. Gabriel lowered his head.

  The small, inarticulate sound she made went right to his groin.

  Gabriel traced the outline of her lips, just barely touching them with the tip of his tongue. She rose on tiptoe, her arms going around his neck, pulling his head down. Her mouth opened beneath his, a silent command to deepen the light caress.

  Even as he called himself every name in the book, he obeyed. Her low, incoherent murmur when he slid inside to taste her was as intoxicating as any drug. A groan slipped out.

  The woman was dangerous. The more he had, the more he craved. Gabriel prided himself on his control but, kiss by kiss, it started to erode. Gabriel didn’t care. That knowledge should scare him. The fact that it didn’t should scare him even more, he realized vaguely.

  Pulse thundering, lungs laboring, Gabriel finally gave in to the need for oxygen. He pulled back and surveyed Kalesia with satisfaction. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and languid, her lips rosy and damp.

  She ruffled the hair at the nape of his neck. “If that’s an apology for teasing me, I accept.”

  Gabriel nudged her head to one side, dropping a tiny kiss under her jaw. “I never apologize,” he stated against the warm silk of her skin. Her hair was wound in a thick braid. The style exposed the delicate line of her neck. Unable to resist, Gabriel traced an intricate pattern behind her ear, smiling when she shivered.

  “So,” she murmured, leaning her head back, her green eyes deep and mysterious, “you never apologize, do you?” She slid her fingers through his hair. The small, surprisingly sensual gesture sent a chill chasing across his skin.

  “Never.” Gabriel was aware of her gentle amusement but found he didn’t mind her laughing at him. The experience was unique and somehow intimate.

  “So arrogant,” she breathed, brushing her lips across his.

  “We’re going to have to talk about your clients.”

  She stiffened.

  Son of a bitch. No one could ever accuse him of great timing. He let her go with reluctance when she shifted out of his arms.

  “I’ll get the files.” Kalesia hurried from the kitchen and up the stairs.

  Gabriel watched her go, wishing he knew what she was thinking. He rubbed his chest, hoping to soothe the odd ache there.

  Kalesia shoved open the kitchen door, an irrational mixture of hurt and anger keeping her temper on edge. “Here.” She dropped the large box onto the white wooden table. She sat and stared at her laced fingers.

  “Kalesia, I know how hard it was…”

  She held up a hand before he could finish. “Don’t. You haven’t the faintest clue what those files represent to me.” She twisted her lips. “I understand why you feel you must go through them and appreciate your efforts. Really, I do. But I still resent the necessity.” She made a slashing motion with her hand. “Just leave it alone. You’d never understand. I’m not even sure I do.”

  “Your clients rely on you. When you say you’ll deliver, they don’t doubt it for a minute. They trust your word whereas no one else ever has.”

  Shock jolted Kalesia at the quiet observation. For a moment, she couldn’t form a cohesive thought.

  “I’m not insisting on looking at the files because I don’t trust your word that your clients are not involved but as a matter of being thorough. Of checking all the angles.”

  When Gabriel held out his hand, Kalesia passed him the first folder, dazed. Even her parents didn’t understand her insistence on being taken on her word alone.

  But Gabriel did.

  A man with shadows and ghosts haunting his eyes, he understood what she had never quite been able to put into words.

  Chapter Five

  Images, like a pack of predators, slipped eagerly through the night, seeking a victim to wrap in the echoes of a sanity trapped in life and death combat. Wild, chaotic and totally lacking in substance, like ghosts they teased and tormented with half-formed touches and whispers of pain, betrayal and rage.

  And, above it all, hovered an insidious, malignant enjoyment feeding and growing on the swirl of emotions.

  Pain.

  Screams.

  Excitement.

  Blood dripped onto the floor from the table, rippling the surface of the dark, ever-spreading pool.

  Light glittered and flashed on the thin blade as it was slowly lowered.

  Pain. Sudden, shocking, consuming.

  * * * * *

  Kalesia moaned and stirred in her sleep.

  * * * * *

  Nylon circled his wrists, laced up his forearms, pulled his arms tightly behind his back.

  Excruciating pain lanced his chest at the intolerable tension on his shoulders. Wave after wave washed over him.

  He screamed.

  Over and over, his ragged voice bounced amongst the trees, startling a Florida panther, causing a mule deer to twitch its ears in fright before bounding deeper into the forest.

  He was on his knees.

  Moonlight filtered down through the pine. The clean, crisp resin fragrance hung heavy in the moist, night air. Inhaling deeply, his starved lungs flooded with the dark peaty scent of a bog.

  An ant crawled up his thigh. Sweat trickled down his breastbone.

  Hot.

  Humid.

  Fear.

  It permeated the night, hung motionlessly on the still air, soaked him as he squinted up at his captor.

  Dirt filled his mouth as he was forced, face down, in the loose soil.

  Beneath his cheek, he felt the tiny tickle of another ant, then a sudden sharp sting.

 
; Shrouded by shadows, the second man knelt and slowly slid his forefinger over the bound man’s cheek. First the left, then the right.

  The small caliber bullet exploded in his brain.

  The second man smiled and picked up a shovel.

  * * * * *

  Kalesia gasped for air, unable to breathe for the dirt filling her mouth. Scrambling to her knees, arms wrapped tightly around her midriff, she forced herself to take slow, controlled breaths. Her heart was pounding so hard, it was making her sick to her stomach. She reached up and touched her temple, her hand shaking. The phantom pain nearly blinded her.

  Sweet mercy, not another one.

  The dark closed in on her. The smell of terror and fear permeated the room. Bile burned her throat. Out. She had to get out. Out of bed. Out of the room.

  Almost leaping from the bed, pausing just long enough to grab her robe from the foot of the bed, she yanked the door open. Once in the hallway, some of her panic faded, allowing her to think. She really didn’t want to be alone. Damn, she wished Gabriel hadn’t insisted the cats sleep in the laundry room. Times like this, she missed their warmth, their weight, curled next to her. She eyed the closed door next to her room, shifting from one foot to the other as she weighed her options.

  She chewed on her bottom lip. After that kiss this afternoon, maybe it would be better if she just went downstairs and fixed herself something hot to drink.

  Safer, in any case.

  Anyway, she doubted Gabriel would believe her. He’d made his reservations obvious, despite his willingness to help. Could she bear it if she saw that look of disbelief in his eyes tonight?

  She pulled on the robe, tightening it. No. Not tonight. Not with Gabriel. Once before a man had nearly destroyed her with his disbelief. Instinct warned her it would be infinitely worse if Gabriel were to deny her ability again.