by J. E. Taylor
“The painting’s for you.”
He met her gaze. “Why? A consolation prize for after you bail on me?” He looked away. “A constant reminder of what I had? No thanks. I’d much rather have the real thing next to me in bed every night.”
“And I want to be next to you every night.”
The softness of her voice brought his gaze back to hers and when she reached out, her palm touching his cheek, he let it remain there, warm and steady against his five o’clock shadow. He raised his hand, covering hers and sighed, pulling her hand away and clasping his fingers in hers.
“Nothing’s going to happen to me.”
Randy laughed throwing himself back on the bed and staring at the ceiling before lowering his gaze to hers. “You don’t know that.”
“I’ve got a guardian angel now.” She stretched next to him, propping herself up on her elbow. “So you don’t have to worry anymore.”
Her hand ran up his chest reaching the top button of his shirt and unlatching it. He watched as she repeated the quick flip of thumb and forefinger until all the buttons on his fine silk dress shirt were unlatched, then he grabbed her wrist and glared at her. “I’m not playing games, Carolyn.” He sat up, peeling his shirt off and walking to the window in the tank undershirt.
Her breath hitched and Randy glanced over his shoulder at her. A chill settled over his soul like someone just walked on his grave. Carolyn’s eyes were almost lavender and glazed and her cheeks carried the pale pallor of death. “Holy Jesus!” He ran to her side. “Carolyn?”
She wasn’t breathing either, not that he could tell, but her heart raced, throbbing against the hand he placed on her chest. “Carolyn!”
Chapter 37
I cornered her in the alley. Her wide blue eyes carrying the fear I’d seen so many times before, like she knew what was coming. For a moment I saw that arrogance, the mocking laugh under the terror, like she knew come sunrise, she’d be whole again.
Not this time. This time I’m going to cut her to pieces.
I swung the axe like I was Paul Bunyan. The razor came down in a graceful arc, whistling, cutting through air then flesh with as much ease as a knife through butter left out in the hot August sun.
The blade tore her chest open from shoulder to waist, neatly slicing her in half. I struck again and again and again until everything around me was crimson and all that was left was a mangled mess.
“Now let’s see you piece yourself together.” I growled in a tone even I didn’t recognize as human.
With a blink, the scene changed to a breathtaking view of the harbor and a voice yelling “Carolyn!”
A moment later the blood soaked street returned.
Chapter 38
Carolyn inhaled, shooting to a sitting position and knocking her forehead on Randy’s hard enough for her to see stars. Her chest, constricted by the vision, began to loosen and allow large pulls of air in. Her hand covered the knot on her forehead and she stared back at Randy, who knelt by the bed, holding the same spot on his forehead.
“Carolyn?” he asked, his voice shaking like he’d seen a ghost or two in the fraction of a second she’d been out.
“He heard you yell my name,” she whispered and the world slowly collapsed into a tiny pinpoint of light and then total blackness engulfed her. Cold settled on half her face and her eyes snapped open. She struggled to sit up but a hand on her shoulder kept her prone on the bed.
“Stay still for a minute,” Randy said.
She lifted her hand to the cold compress on her head. “What’s this?”
“It’s a bag of frozen peas. Now lay still for a couple of minutes. You’ve got quite a knot on your forehead.”
“I need to make a phone call,” she said, pushing her way into a sitting position. A storm of dizziness hit and she slumped back, blinking at the spinning ceiling. What did he say to do? Carolyn closed her eyes and concentrated, focusing the energy in the center of her mind and then she shot the thought out like a rocket launcher. A single name, just like he instructed.
Steve.
The effort drained her and she blinked her heavy eyelids open at the clearing of a throat. She turned to the bedroom doorway to see Special Agent Steve Williams in jeans and a t-shirt, a far cry from the crisp tailored suit he wore earlier.
“You called?”
Randy shot up from the bed, his expression scrunched in shock. “How the hell did you get in here?”
Steve met Carolyn’s stare and shrugged. “She called,” he said pointing toward Carolyn.
Carolyn struggled to sit up. “Randy, I told you he was special.”
“That still doesn’t explain how he got into the apartment,” Randy said.
Steve crossed his arms glancing between Carolyn and Randy. “There isn’t a reasonable explanation, Mr. Kincaid. I’m here because your girlfriend called me with her mind.” He turned his gaze to her, meeting her stare. “Are you going to tell me what this is about or what?”
“I had another vision,” she said and swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood on wobbly legs. Randy stepped to her side, steadying her with an arm around her waist. She looked up at him. “I know you’re having a tough time understanding right now, but I need to talk to Agent Williams and I’ll try to explain all this after, okay?”
Randy nodded and helped her into the living room, where she settled into the couch opposite Steve.
“Tell me about the vision,” he said.
“He killed again.” Her eyes filled up with tears. “But this time, he didn’t stop slashing. He chopped her into pieces.” Her hand flew to her mouth and she jumped from the couch, running to the bathroom before the vomit shot out from behind her fingers.
After she rinsed her mouth and splashed some cold water on her face, she returned to the living room. “I’m sorry.”
“With what you saw, it’s understandable,” Steve said.
“He heard Randy call my name.”
Steve’s eyebrows lowered into a thoughtful pose and he studied his hands but she couldn’t read his thoughts.
“What does that mean?” Randy asked when both Carolyn and Steve remained quiet.
“It means he may now be aware of the psychic connection; add the brutality of this murder, which is different from the past killings and I am concerned. Something happened to trigger this and I’m wondering if it had to do with yesterday.”
Randy shot his gaze to Carolyn. “What happened yesterday?”
“He was somewhere outside city hall and saw me.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
“Because I saw through his eyes.” Carolyn studied her hands. “It’s happened a few times. Remember when I dropped my pocketbook on the steps?” She waited until he nodded. “I saw out of his eyes then, too.”
Randy sat back in the seat, pressing farther into the plush pillows behind him. Repulsed by the thought the killer was anywhere near Carolyn. He shot his gaze to Steve. “What are you doing to protect her?”
“Everything possible,” Steve said and exchanged a glance with Carolyn. “Including calling me if she’s in trouble.”
“What about hiring a body guard?” Randy asked.
“I’m not sure a body guard is necessary. I’m a whole lot deadlier than any body guard the FBI has, whether I’m physically standing beside her or not.”
Randy’s jaw tightened and Carolyn heard his mental argument before the words slipped out of his mouth.
“You don’t even carry a gun.” Venom and sarcasm intertwined in his statement. He leaned forward in a silent challenge. “What good are you without a gun?”
The sharp inhale that followed alarmed Carolyn. Randy’s hands flew to his throat and his face transitioned from a light rose blush of frustration to a burgundy red. His eyes bulged and he scratched at the skin of his throat, leaving red welts in the skin.
“Stop!” Carolyn yelled and Steve turned his gaze to her.
“He asked,” he said.
“But
you don’t have to choke him.”
Steve shrugged while Randy gasped for breath next to her, leaning over with his elbows on his knees.
“What the fuck are you?” Randy asked when he got his voice back.
“A criminal’s worst fucking nightmare.” A smile played on his lips and he turned toward Carolyn. “I’ll check to see if there have been any reports and I’ll give you a call.” He sent a nod in her direction and disappeared.
Randy stared at the place Steve had occupied and then turned his gaze to Carolyn. His jaw hung slack and his eyes saucers of disbelief. Blotchy red spots on his cheeks gave as much away as his broken thoughts.
“You’re freaked out.”
Randy closed his mouth and nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I have no idea what to say to you right now.” He waved at the empty seat. “That trumps all the freakish things you can do and it’s the stuff nightmares are made of.” Running his hand through his hair, he continued. “I can’t begin to digest what happened here so…” he trailed off and glanced toward the sliders and the deck beyond. “I need some fresh air and a little perspective.” He stood abruptly, grabbing a jacket from the closet. “Are you coming?”
Carolyn thought for a moment too long.
“Fine, I’ll be back in a little while.” And with that, the door slammed behind him.
Chapter 39
Carolyn sat at the kitchen table with a hot cup of tea, trying not to think about where Randy had gone. He didn’t answer his cell and the absence of contact had her on edge. Steve hadn’t called with news either. It was like they both dropped off the face of the earth.
Her head ached. A dull throb centered in the knot on her forehead and she grazed her fingertips over the lump and winced. This wasn’t going to go over well with Damon tomorrow and she closed her eyes, sighing. She picked up her phone and dialed Randy again. After three rings it dumped her into his voicemail again. “Randy, where are you?”
She flipped the phone closed and glanced at the clock. Two hours. He’s been gone over two hours. What the hell is he doing?
Her cell buzzed and she flipped it open. “Ms. Hastings?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Steve and we found the victim, but it looks like a fresh kill, which means there was a lag between your vision and the murder.”
“But he heard Randy calling my name…”
Silence pervaded the connection and then a sigh. “I don’t have an answer for you on that, but I do know the time of death was about an hour ago.”
“Where?”
“An alley off of Gold Street in the lower east side.”
Carolyn turned toward the balcony. Gold Street wasn’t that far from where they were. A chill bit her skin, forming bumps and raising the hairs on her arms and neck. “That’s…”
“Too close for comfort,” he said, finishing her sentence.
“Is Randy there with you?”
“No, he isn’t,” she said.
More silence. “When did he leave?” Steve asked, his voice carrying a hint of suspicion.
“A little after you did.”
* * * *
Steve turned, surveying the carnage, reading the doubts deep in Carolyn’s mind. “Do you think your boyfriend might have a dual personality?”
He could tell from the stuttering response she hadn’t considered it at all and at the mere mention her brain created a flurry of memories, some consistent, some not so much and then she found her voice. “Randy couldn’t do this, Steve. He’s a good man.”
“Are you positive of that?”
“Yes.”
No doubts followed the answer and Steve turned away from the forensic team and walked into the open street with the phone to his ear. He could feel the tendrils from her mind trying to unlock the wall securing his thoughts. “Stop trying to read my mind.”
“Then tell me why you think Randy could be the killer.”
Steve sighed and took a seat on an empty bus bench. “He has holes in his alibis and the blood on his shoes was a mixture of cattle blood and human blood. It didn’t match to any of the victims, but there still is something he’s hiding—besides just being insecure.”
“There is something he confided in me, something he did recently that put him at odds with his family and wasn’t exactly ethical.”
“You mean the issue of coercing his family into selling the business?”
Silence filtered through the phone line. “You know about that?”
“I’m not an idiot, Carolyn. I followed up on his alibis. I spoke with his family and got their side of the story. The good thing is it jived with what he told you, but there are still some unanswered questions and with the killer hearing him…” He stopped talking and glanced back at the chaos in the alley.
“He’s on the top of your list?”
“Yes. He’s my top suspect at the moment.”
“I’m telling you, it isn’t Randy,” Carolyn said. “What about Jim Britt?”
“The district attorney?”
“Yes, he turned on me like that.”
He heard the snap of her fingers in the background.
“I’m still looking at your case history and everyone you’ve had contact with in the last month, but for the moment Randy Kincaid is my top suspect.”
“What’s his motive?”
“I think jealousy may trigger it.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“I’m trying to keep an open mind here. I’ve been burned by not looking at everyone around me and I don’t want you to get burned because you’re blinded by your feelings. Just watch your back and call if he gets rough with you.”
“He won’t. Stop wasting your time with Randy and find the real killer.” Steve ended the call and hailed a cab.
When he settled into the cab, he pressed the speed dial on his phone and waited for an answer.
“You better have some news for me,” Assistant Director Cleary said.
“I got a bunch of nothing.”
“Do you need Sarah down there with you?”
Steve considered his spirited partner and shook his head, “No. Jenny’s going to need someone with her.”
“And you think Sarah’s the right person?”
“She’s better at this than I am Ron. Granted she’s not necessarily the most ideal support system we’ve got in place, but it’s better than Jenny going through her testimony alone.”
“Okay, but if you don’t have anything by the end of the week, I’m sending her down to give you a fresh pair of eyes.”
“Thanks. By the way, do you know of any skeletons in the D.A.’s closet?”
“Jim Britt? No, but his wife has been in and out of institutions for years.”
“For what?”
“From what I understand, she’s got a drinking problem among other things.”
“What other things?”
“Why?”
“Because, I’m not ruling anyone out.”
“You are not going after the district attorney of New York or his wife.”
“Okay…” Steve muttered and his intuition prickled. I need more information.
“I’m serious, leave the man alone.”
“He’s on my radar, Ron. I’m not dismissing anything. We did that in Georgia and look what happened.”
Cleary huffed on the line, silently conceding Steve’s point. “Fine, but tread lightly and try not to burn too many bridges this time.”
“Don’t worry—I won’t,” he answered and rolled his eyes.
* * * *
Carolyn paced across the apartment, her gaze snapped to the clock again while she gnawed on a hangnail. He still wasn’t home and worry ate at her stomach, creating a sour taste in her mouth.
She reached for her phone again and the jangle of keys caught her attention. She froze on the spot and stared at the turning lock. When the door opened, the sweet scent of Chinese takeout preceded Randy. Her emotions ran the same
gambit as his had earlier in the day—relief followed by aggravation. It took a minute, but what he was wearing registered. Sweats and no coat. He had left in jeans and leather bomber jacket, not sweats. Doubt as thick as a jar of honey coated her throat and she cocked her head. “Where have you been?”
“I went to the gym and while I was working out, my clothes were stolen,” he said, walking past her with the food. “It’s a damn good thing I always bring my wallet and keys with me otherwise I would have frozen my ass off in my shorts and t-shirt on the walk back.” He glanced at her as he took a couple of plates from the cabinet.
“The vision I saw took place while you were gone.”
Randy paused with his back to her and the muscles in his shoulders stiffened. He lowered the plates to the counter and pushed them aside before turning in her direction. “And?” he asked through clenched teeth. His glare was enough to make her step back.
“And nothing,” she said and all the saliva in her mouth dried.
“You think I…”
She couldn’t answer him, the anger in his features silenced her as effectively as a gag would.
He turned, sweeping the plates and the takeout bag off the counter with a guttural roar and when he turned on her, she stumbled backwards with the raw tinny taste of fear lining her mouth.
He pointed toward the door. “Get out.”
“I’ll go pack.” She turned and bolted toward the bedroom, closing the door behind her and grabbing her suitcase. Steve crossed her mind. Should I? but before she could formulate the thought, Randy slammed the bedroom door open.
“Do you honestly think I could hack a woman to pieces, Carolyn?”
She stopped throwing clothing into the suitcase and stared at him.
He crossed, towering over her, crowding her with his intense gaze, creating a whirlwind of fear inside her. “Do you?”
“Back off, Romeo,” the voice came from behind Randy and when he turned, she got a glimpse of Steve Williams.
“Well, there’s my fucking answer.” He stepped away from her lifting his hands in the air. “I give up,” he said and stormed past Steve.
