by J. E. Taylor
“Can you blame them?” Steve met her sincere eyes.
He hadn’t been prepared to raise a stranger’s children, never mind two teenage boys with baggage that rivaled disaster victims, but after what had happened in Georgia, Steve couldn’t just leave the children in the care of their aging grandparents. They weren’t equipped to deal with the after effects of Georgia any more than Steve and Jennifer were, and they certainly weren’t prepared for the responsibility of CJ Ryan; the prodigal son, the offspring of Ty and Jessica, and the only human being capable of destroying the earth on a whim.
“No, but it still feels like I’m failing miserably at being a parent,” he said and sat next to her. “They’re constantly in trouble. Shoplifting, underage drinking, DUIs, and now this. Where the hell did we go wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Uncle Steve. We screwed up.” CJ stepped into view on the stairs.
Steve met CJ’s gaze. “I can’t keep bailing you out.”
CJ nodded acknowledgement. “I know and I’m sorry.” He disappeared from view.
Steve glanced at the script on Jen’s lap. Another B rated horror flick. “Is that any good?”
Jen shook her head. “My character get’s killed off pretty quick.”
“I don’t know why you don’t just go back to the theater or that soap that keeps calling.”
Jen pressed her lips together and looked at the ceiling. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I think they need me around.” She slid her gaze back to Steve. “Especially Tom. He gets angrier and angrier as each year passes.”
A hand banged on the railing and they both jumped. Tom glared at them and then signed a frantic comeback. I don’t need you here, I don’t need anybody.
Steve heard the words even before his hands finished signing.
“Tom.” Jen stood and he put his hand out like he was stopping traffic.
Don’t! Don’t look at me like I’m some freak. I don’t need your pity. I just need to be left the hell alone. So go to New York, or wherever your jobs call you and stay the hell out of my life.
CJ appeared on the stairs. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
Tom turned, glaring at him. He raised his middle finger and turned hopping to the landing and stalking toward the front door. CJ reached him before Steve could intervene and the minute CJ’s hand landed on Tom’s shoulder, Tom spun, sweeping CJ’s feet from under him. CJ reacted just as quickly, yanking Tom with him as he fell, and sending Tom crashing on the floor. Both boys held black belts in various martial arts disciplines and were equals in height, weight and talent, so when they fought, things tended to break. But this time when they got to their feet, CJ tilted his head and Tom crashed into the wall, held in place by an invisible hand.
Let me go! Tom’s thought barreled with a strength that had grown over the years, and CJ winced but shook his head.
“No.” His chest heaved. “You can’t leave.”
Tom’s laugh filled the room.
“CJ, put him down.” Steve crossed the distance, righting the table they knocked over. “He isn’t going anywhere.” He turned to Tom. “Isn’t that right?”
Tom glared at both of them and kept quiet, neither nodding nor shaking his head and protecting his thoughts from both of them. When his eyes landed on Steve, his teeth snapped together and his eyes narrowed.
Steve caught the tail end of Tom’s thought process, something akin to wanting to kick his ass. “CJ, I want you and Jen to go upstairs right now.” Steve pointed to the stairs, without breaking eye contact with Tom. “Now!” the command filled the room, shocking both CJ and Jen into motion. They scurried up the stairs and Steve waited and listened. No wings fluttered and he sent a silent warning to his ever-present ghost to stay put before returning his full focus on Tom. The fury in the kid’s eyes worried him enough to take drastic action.
“We’re going for a ride.” He grabbed Tom’s arm and hauled him to the car, shoving him in the passenger seat. He flew out of the gate and navigated the roads like an Indy 500 driver, slamming on the brakes in front of the deserted beach.
“Out!” He yanked Tom out of the car and practically dragged him onto the wet sand. “You want to kick my ass?” He stretched his arms out. “Here’s your chance, boy.”
Tom didn’t hesitate; he threw a punch that Steve parried, sidestepping away.
Steve felt the emotions swamping Tom, saturating his mind and movements. Anger prevailed, but there was something underneath, something darker, something that if he followed, it would lead him down a path to despair. He let him swing, and kick and go through the motions of forms, knocking each and every tag out of range until Tom sat on the sand and put his face in his hands, sobbing in frustration.
Taking a seat next to him, Steve threw his arm around his shoulder, offering him support without words. He stared at the ocean and sighed.
“O u me.” He shook Steve’s arm from his shoulder.
Steve put his arm back despite Tom’s plea not to touch him. “What happened? What’s going on?”
“O-ee.” Tom knocked Steve’s arm away again.
“Bullshit. This isn’t normal behavior for you and we both know that.”
Tom turned his head, his blue eyes shimmering with tears. “e oke u wi me.”
He sighed and threw his arm around his shoulder again. “It happens.”
You don’t understand. She broke up with me because I couldn’t kiss her like the other guys.
Bitterness accompanied the thought and Steve didn’t know what to say.
I just want to be normal. I want to be able to talk, to…to kiss.
Steve pressed his lips together and looked out at the ocean. “I did what I could, Tom. Things just don’t grow back.”
Your eye did.
Steve shook his head. “My eye was never removed. Deflated, yeah, gross as hell, but I didn’t want it taken out.” He turned to Tom. “So it was there when you’re mother did her magic. But the things he took from you…”
They’re gone.
Steve nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Tom rested his head on his folded arms.
Steve closed his eyes and gently rubbed Tom’s back, letting the kid wallow for a few minutes. Up until today, Tom seemed to have adjusted just fine to his handicap. His grades were top notch, he was a star running back on the high school football team and he had his share of girls lining up to talk to him on facebook every night. Sure, every now and then he’d get frustrated, but not like this, not this complete anguish.
Tanya, his latest girlfriend, was a beauty, a cheerleader with the body of a goddess and the face of an angel.
“You really liked this one.”
He nodded without raising his head.
“I swear someday you’ll find the right girl and your issues won’t matter at all.”
Tom tilted his head, raising his eyebrows. Issues? I’m a f-ing freak!
“No you’re not. You’re a good kid who was dealt a raw hand. As I understand it, you’re a lot like your biological father. Your dad had a very high opinion of him, you know.” He saw the slight nod.
Tom knew. His folks made sure he knew what his father sacrificed for them.
“You’ve got a good heart and that’s a rare thing these days. So what if you’ve got this handicap, screw ’em if they can’t accept you for who you are.”
That’s easy for you to say…
“Yes it is, but here’s the thing. You bring a lot to the table and if Tanya can’t see that, she’s blind. So what if you can’t stick your tongue down her throat.”
He laughed, shaking his head. Just shut up now. You don’t know what it’s like to be me. You don’t know what it’s like not to be able to do those things. Yeah, I can drive her crazy with my hands, I can even screw the daylights out of her but she wants more and I can’t give her what she wants.
Steve raised his eyebrows. “You’re sleeping with her?”
Tom’s eyes widened and he looked away, his
cheeks turning a rosy pink from more than the cool air. He turned back. Don’t give me that shocked look. I am almost eighteen. How old were you?
Steve cleared his throat and looked out at the water, stumped. He was seventeen when he lost his virginity, so he understood more about teenage hormones than he wanted to give away. “We’re not talking about me. Tell me you’re at least being smart about it?” He returned his gaze to Tom.
He rolled his eyes and nodded. Yeah, I am. It was his turn to look out at the water. I want to bring her to Paradise Cove.
Steve stiffened. “Why?”
So she can hear my voice and I can kiss her the way she wants me to.
“And introduce her to your father?”
Tom raised his eyebrows and shook his head. No way. I’d ask him to be scarce.
“Did you ever think it might be his presence that gives you the ability to speak?”
Tom’s face went ashen and he shook his head.
“And I think he’d have an issue with you sucking face with a girl in front of him.”
Tom snorted. I thought he liked to watch?
Steve couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing. “That’s sick, Tom.”
A grin surfaced and some of the good humor he possessed made its way into his eyes.
Yeah, well, ok, maybe you’re right.
“Oh, you know I’m right.” He glanced at Tom and slapped him on the back. “Let’s get home before Jen has the local police scouring the town for us.” He stood and started brushing the sand off his backside.
Uncle Steve?
“Yeah?”
Thanks.
“Anytime.”
Chapter 4
Jen shot up in bed, her hand over her mouth, stifling the scream. She reached out knocking the lamp, but it never hit the ground. Stopping mid-fall, it teetered and righted itself on the nightstand, its light encompassing the room and Jen turned to Steve.
His sleep-encrusted eyes met hers. “Another nightmare?”
She nodded and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her next to him on the plush bed. “Another murder,” she said, her voice scratchy with exhaustion and fear.
His eyes closed and a long exhale cut through the darkness. “Shit.” He squeezed her tighter and kissed the back of her head, taking a moment to extract the memory. Another gift from the Ryan’s—reaching into another’s mind and extracting information, like he was the one who had the nightmare, the thought, the secret.
The details were as vivid as if the memory was on screen in front of him, and it spared her from having to relive the vision, to describe the crime scene in her dream. Extracting memories was as handy as mind reading, along with the power to control matter and, on a limited basis, control those around him, but was also just as disturbing and unnatural.
She shivered in his grasp. “I hate it when you do that,” she whispered.
“I know, but it’s easier than drilling you for details.”
“Yeah. Ok. If you say so.”
He chuckled at her lack of enthusiasm and then turned his focus on her nightmare. Again, she took the perspective of the killer, a viewpoint she hated with a passion. Being in their heads, their twisted minds disturbed her more than the actual killings she witnessed and this one, this one made him release her and jump to his feet, his eyes traveling to the door and he bolted down the hall without a word, swinging Tom’s door open to make sure.
The room was empty.
“Shit,” Steve cursed under his breath as both anger and worry built in his stomach, leaving it a molten rock of acid. He turned and crossed the hall opening the door to CJ’s room.
CJ snored in response and he closed the door returning to his bedroom. He stared at Jen. “When?”
“I don’t know. You saw it, you tell me?”
He shook his head, glancing at the clock and grabbing his jeans. Four in the morning. No one runs this early, but in her dream it was dark enough for the victim to need a light. “I gotta try to stop this one.”
“Why?”
He focused on her instead of the buttons on his shirt. “Tanya. Tanya’s the girl in your vision.”
Jennifer’s eyes widened and he could tell she hadn’t made the connection.
“And Tom’s not home. Damn it.” He stood and walked back to CJ’s room, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “CJ, wake up.” He shook him.
CJ’s eyes fluttered open. “What?”
“When was the last time you saw Tanya?”
A shadow passed over his face and he blinked, cocking his head to the side. “What?” The skin between his eyebrows creased.
“Tanya, when was the last time you saw her?”
“Tom took her home after practice.”
“Is that when he told you they broke up?”
CJ nodded.
Steve wiped his face, the unease ratcheting up a notch, squeezing his abdomen like a belt pulled too tight. “Damn it,” he whispered under his breath. He stood and took a step away. CJ’s grip on his wrist stopped him and he looked back.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing you need to worry about right now,” Steve said. “Go back to sleep.”
Chapter 5
Steve’s earlier race to the beach was like a Sunday drive in comparison to his supersonic jump to Tanya’s house and the car screeched to a stop in the driveway. It was now almost five and he pounded on the front door, waking the poor folks inside the house.
Carl Angelo opened the door wearing a ratty bathrobe and a rumpled expression. “Agent Williams, is everything all right?”
“I’m sorry to wake you, but I was hoping to speak with Tanya,” he said, knowing just how strange the request sounded, but with every passing second, the sky lightened and his heart pumped out a warning to hurry before it was too late.
“Can I ask why?”
Steve knew the truth wouldn’t settle well so he threw up a smokescreen. “Tom didn’t come home last night and I’m a little worried,” he said.
Carl’s face smoothed over and he nodded, waving Steve inside before he disappeared upstairs. A few minutes later, he descended to the ground floor. “She already left for her morning run but I’m sure she’ll be back in a little while. I can make a pot of coffee if you’d like.”
Steve glanced at his watch and the fading darkness. “Does she jog over on the river path?”
“Yes, why?”
“I think I’ll try to catch her at the park entrance,” he said and smiled, heading for the door. “If she comes back before I talk to her, have her give the house a call.”
“Will do. I’m sure Tom is just fine,” Carl said and Steve gave him a wave and jogged to the car.
Dread filled every pore as the horizon lightened in the distance. Shit, I’m running out of time.
He pushed a button on his car phone and the ringing filled the car followed by a sleepy baritone. “Detective O’Keefe.”
“I need some manpower,” Steve said.
After a beat of silence, “Agent Williams?”
“Yes. River Trail. He’s going to hit again on the River Trail.”
Another beat. “You got it.”
“Let them know I’ll be out there too,” Steve said and hung up. Where the hell was Tom? He didn’t have time to worry about Tom and shook the thought out of his head. He pushed harder on the gas pedal, spinning to a stop in the first of many parking lots lining the jogging trail. Tanya’s car sat in the parking spot closest to the path and he parked next to it, closing his eyes and scanning the area for tendrils of thought.
Nothing.
Empty.
Silent…and his heart plummeted. He swallowed the acid lining his throat and stepped out of his car.
Maybe she was out of range; he pulled his gun out, checking the clip before snapping it back in and flipping the safety off, he crossed to the path, following the footpath to the cover of the trees where the ground only appeared briefly here and there through the thick coating of leaves lining the path. Jen�
��s dream came back and he took a deep breath scanning the trees, looking for the spot. With each step, dread crept further and further under his skin.
His gaze swept from side to side, no sound, no thoughts and his heart pounded in his chest, throbbing in his temples. The sky was too light, and a sense of futility took control.
A half-mile down the path a voice yelled from around the bend, “Freeze!”
Steve moved swiftly, flipping the safety on his gun before holstering it. He slowed feeling hostility and satisfaction radiating from the spot just out of view and he swung around the foliage toward the voice. He froze staring at the scene in front of him.
Tom knelt with his hands in the air and Tanya’s dead body draped across his lap, half in and half out of an inlet stream, his clothing wet and blood soaked and his horrified gaze locked on the scalped body on the ground.
Swallowing the bile lining his throat, Steve pulled out his badge and held it out for the officers on the scene. “FBI,” he announced, calling their attention, along with their gun barrels, away from Tom for a moment.
“Special Agent Williams?” the closest officer asked.
Steve nodded and scanned the muddy area where the jogging path traversed the stream, trying to reconcile Tom with the morbid scene.
“Looks like we finally caught up to you,” Officer Callaway said from behind Tom and clasped a handcuff on Tom’s wrist, twisting his arm behind his back and securing the other wrist.
“I ia o i,” Tom said, his cheeks lined with a steady stream of tears. I didn’t do this Uncle Steve.
“You’ve got the wrong man, that’s my son,” Steve said scanning the ground for evidence that would exonerate Tom on the spot, but the stream kept the exit path of the killer a secret, like most of the prior murders.
“We found him covered in her blood,” the officer replied not moving to un-cuff Tom.
“Did you find the murder weapon and the scalp?” Steve asked, raising his eyebrow in a silent question.
“No, sir. But he could have ditched it before we got here,” Callaway said.
