“You okay?” he asked her.
“What was that?” Kyle asked instead.
“That would be the welcoming committee, better known as Bentley, the over-fed Labrador.”
“That’s your welcoming committee? What’s your guard dog look like?”
Cameron smiled and shrugged. “He’s just excited to see you. Don’t get new company around here much.”
***
It was a beautiful New Mexico evening. Jasmine decorated the air with its fragrant aroma while scrub oak branches twisted in the background, creating sounds not unlike waves of rushing water. They decided to take advantage of the ambiance by having dinner on the front porch.
Cameron dragged a wrought-iron garden table with Bentley following closely behind. Upon reaching the top step, the chunky brown dog scanned the yard once, let out a big yawn, then dropped to the floor, falling asleep almost the instant his chin hit the deck.
Once again, Kyle felt Cameron’s energy begin to stir as he leaned over to lay down paper plates, not nearly as powerful as before, yet much more specific: A loss. Something treasured. Something dear.
Kyle wondered what that was, but before she could grab hold of the thought, it escaped, almost as if being swept into the wind that blew past them.
“You okay?” Cameron asked, noticing Kyle’s sudden change of expression.
“Sure … fine,” Kyle replied, knowing she’d lied, and sensing that something vague had just slipped through her fingers. She did her best to act as if it hadn’t mattered.
The breeze shifted and the scent of Kyle’s hair suddenly caught Cameron’s attention: mint, or lavender, or maybe both; he wasn’t sure. Memories swirled through his mind. Memories of Sarah. He tried to ignore them.
But not before becoming entangled in Kyle’s intuitive grasp.
She’s not coming back, Kyle thought, then wondered who it was and why.
An awkward silence fell between them, neither knowing what to say, but for different reasons.
Chapter Seventy-Two
6623 Hunter’s Run
Faith, New Mexico
Kyle and Cameron sat on the porch swing.
Somewhere, mixed within the silent, emotional exchange of information, Kyle felt an attraction to Cameron. She knew it was neither appropriate nor timely.
Cameron, on the other hand, not only felt the connection, he wanted to act on it. But before he could, Kyle broke the mood.
She stirred. “There’s something you need to know.”
Cameron turned his head toward her. “Something wrong?”
Kyle smiled and closed her eyes. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“What, then?”
“I need to tell you why I’m here.” She took a deep breath. “You know, before last night, I never even knew Faith existed.”
“So how’d you find us?”
She looked at him for a few seconds, studying his face. “Actually, Faith found me.”
“Not sure I follow,” Cameron said.
Kyle smiled, trying to find the right words. “Have you ever heard the term retro-cognition?”
“No,” he admitted.
“Post-cognition?”
He shook his head.
Kyle gazed up, trying to think. White, shimmering stars no larger than pinholes glistened against a sable sky. “Let me see if I can explain this: it’s when people can see events from the past without ever being there.”
“See them how?” Cameron asked.
“The images can come in dreams or appear almost like hallucinations—very vivid.” She hesitated. “People experience an event as if they’re actually there, right in the middle of it all. They can see and hear—sometimes even smell—everything. In essence, they become transported back in time, back to the event.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know if I can—”
“I know what’s causing all the horrible things that have been happening here.”
He shook his head, his face a mask of confusion. “Are you saying that you’ve been seeing everything that’s been going on here?”
“No.” She looked down, fumbling with her fingers, then back up and into his eyes. “What I’m saying, is that I’ve been seeing the cause.”
“The cause,” he repeated, even more baffled.
“Yeah, I’ve been getting inundated with images, but I’m having a difficult time figuring out the connection,” she said. “It’s not making much sense, but I know it’s all coming from right here, from this town.”
Cameron shook his head back and forth quickly. “Look, I don’t mean any disrespect, but I work in law enforcement. We operate on tangible, physical evidence, not psychic phenomenon. I need facts—facts that can hold up in a court of law.”
“Of course you do. It’s unconventional—I know that—but this is real.” She stopped and smiled. “I’m a doctor. I draw my conclusions from the same well that you do. I use solid, empirical evidence to make decisions, too. I don’t diagnose my patients based on strange vibrations that come to me.” She hesitated. “But I don’t ignore them, either. If I get a feeling about something, I may pursue it, but I never just accept it as fact without being able to prove it. That would be crazy—it would go against everything I learned in medical school.”
“So what are you saying?”
“What I’m saying is that the world isn’t one-dimensional. There’s room for both the tangible and the ethereal.”
Cameron considered her words. “Look, I’m not saying I don’t believe you, or even that it doesn’t exist. I’m just having a hard time seeing how I’d be able to use it to solve what’s been happening here.”
Kyle shrugged. “Law enforcement agencies have been using psychics to solve their most difficult cold cases for years. It’s not something that’s publicized, or even accepted among peers, but it is happening, and no matter how strange it may seem to some, it’s hard to refute the results. Cases are being solved.”
She was right. Cameron had heard of psychics helping to solve murders and missing-person cases, but he’d never considered whether it was a valid crime-fighting tool—not until now. “I’ve heard of it before, but I’m still having a tough time getting my mind around it.”
Kyle had been watching his face, watching his reaction. She could tell he was struggling with the concept. “Are you aware both the U.S. and British governments have conducted experiments using psychics? And I’m not talking centuries ago—I’m talking about as recently as the past five years. They were trying to see if they could use the psychics’ remote-viewing abilities to spy on enemies.”
Cameron raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Look, I know this is a lot to accept, and I would be just as doubtful as you are right now if I were you. It’s why I don’t share this with people unless I see a need for it. I think what’s been happening here qualifies.”
“It may qualify, but—”
“Let me put it to you this way: I run a successful private medical practice. I graduated at the top of my class at the Columbia School of Medicine. I’m board-certified three times over in three different specialties. In addition, I’m on faculty at the University of New Mexico School of Medicine. Do you get where I’m going with this?”
“I think so.”
“The point I’m making here is that I’m not just some crackpot who’s had a break with reality. And I didn’t just drive to a strange town I’ve never heard of with some half-baked theory I cooked up along the way. The fact is, I didn’t even know what was going on here—all I knew was that lives were at stake and, for some reason, the answers why were coming to me.” She paused and smiled. “I’m trying to help you.”
Cameron had already decided the situation in Faith was far from normal and that the solution would be the same as well. He just hadn’t realized he would have to go this far to find it. He took a deep breath.
Kyle watched him continue wrestling with his thoughts. “Look. I’m not trying to convince you of my abilities. You don’t eve
n have to believe I have them. All I’m asking is that you investigate the information I’ll give you. If it materializes into something, then great; if not, no worries—it’s just another lead that didn’t pan out, no different from your everyday telephone tip. It doesn’t matter how you find the missing pieces, as long as you find them, right?”
She was right. He’d always considered tips from the public, no matter how bizarre they sounded at times, and from people who had far less sense than Kyle seemed to have. She wasn’t crazy—of that, he was sure. This was different. She was different.
“So what do you say?” she asked.
Cameron looked at her, appeared to be weighing all the information. “You plead your case well. It’s something I would never normally even begin to consider. You’re pretty persuasive.”
Kyle looked away, smiled. “I’ve been told.”
Cameron sat silently for a moment. She was so beautiful, so intelligent, not like anyone he’d ever met. How could he not believe her? “Okay, I’ll go along, but there are some rules we need to follow. It’s crucial.”
“Name them.”
“One, this stays between us. Not a word to anyone. If my boss gets even a whiff of what’s happening here, he’ll not only have my job, he’ll have me committed.”
This was beginning to sound familiar. It was her and Josh all over again. “Understood. What else?”
“Second, you work with me and only me. Nobody else. You don’t discuss the case with anybody.”
She smiled. “I think I can live with that.”
He took a very deep breath. “Now let’s go see if you can help me take back this town.”
Kyle raised an eyebrow. “The way I see it, you just did.”
Chapter Seventy-Three
6623 Hunter’s Run
Faith, New Mexico
The moon was bright, the night clear. They’d decided to take a walk.
Kyle and Cameron began putting their plan in order. She would tell people that she was in town looking to buy property, that she was interested in relocating to Faith and wanted to spend some time getting to know the area. It seemed logical.
Kyle told Cameron what she’d been experiencing before coming to Faith, about the images in her mind, and the strange dreams. She explained it all, every detail. Cameron agreed that none of it seemed to fit in with what was happening there.
“World War Two’s so far away from what’s going on right now,” Cameron said.
“I know. That’s been the problem all along—trying to make sense of it all.” Kyle shook her head, eyes focused straight ahead. “It just doesn’t seem to fit.”
Cameron knew what she meant. He’d been experiencing the same thing on his end, just in different ways. “There’s only one hospital in this town, always has been: Faith Community. Before that, there was nothing here.”
“Even back as far as World War Two?”
“I’m pretty sure, but I can ask some of the old-timers. Lane Smith is as close to being the town historian as we’ll ever get. He’s a barber, but he’s been here longer than anyone else. At least among the living.”
Kyle hesitated for a moment. “I’ve told you what I know. What I haven’t explained, is how I know it.”
“You said the information came by way of dreams and images.”
“And that’s true. What I haven’t explained is the mode of delivery.”
“Mode of delivery?”
“Yeah.” She laughed. “These things don’t just drop into my head all by themselves. There’s usually a medium … a messenger.”
“So who’s the mess—”
“It’s Bethany Foley.”
Cameron stopped and stared straight ahead. “You get messages from dead people.”
“Yeah, that’s generally how it works.”
“Look, we’re getting into some dangerous territory here.”
“I know it sounds creepy, but it’s been happening all my life.”
Cameron’s voice began to falter. “No, you don’t understand. I lost my—”
She interrupted him, intent on her own thoughts. “Listen, I never even knew who Bethany Foley was until last night. For weeks, I saw her face but had no idea why. It wasn’t until I saw a news report about the Faith murders on TV that I made the connection. She’s been trying to tell me something, trying to get me to come here. I don’t know for sure, but I have a strong suspicion she knows what’s going on, and why.”
“I knew her brother Ben very well.”
“Any idea why he did it?”
“If we knew that, we’d be able solve this whole mess.” His tone came out sharper than he’d meant for it to.
Kyle looked injured by his reply. She walked a few steps ahead of him, wrapped her arms around herself, and did not turn back. “Look … I’m not here to cause problems, Cameron. I’m here to help you solve them.”
He sighed with regret. “I realize that.”
She turned back around and faced him. “You seem to forget. This isn’t a vacation for me. I’ve turned my entire life upside down: I’ve left everything I have back at home, my practice, my family … my life.”
She’d never said anything about having a husband or any children. “Your family?”
Her eyes showed a hint of tears. “Well, the only family I have left. My brother. We’re very close. Both our parents are gone.”
He felt worse now. “I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is hurt your feelings. You have to know that.”
She remained silent.
“Look. I’m trying to process all this, but it’s not easy, not for someone like me.”
“Someone like you?”
Cameron had almost told her about Dylan. Now the atmosphere was far too unsettled. He decided to be vague, instead. “Yeah. I’ve never had to rely on information like this to solve a case. It’s unusual.”
She stepped toward him. “I know it is, and I’m trying my best to be sensitive to that. It’s why I waited to tell you about Bethany, but I couldn’t keep it from you. It’s information you’re going to need.”
“I realize that. I just need you to be patient. I’m moving as fast as I—.”
“I am being patient, and I do understand. Believe me; I’ve faced this kind of resistance my whole life. I never chose to have these abilities. They sort of just chose me. But I need you to know that I take them very seriously.”
Cameron nodded, avoiding eye contact with Kyle, as if doing so might prevent her from seeing into his past.
Little did he know, she already had.
Chapter Seventy-Four
Desert Spring Motel
Faith, New Mexico
Cameron had offered to let Kyle stay at his place, but she declined. While the invitation was appealing—the idea of another night at a motel didn’t thrill her—she fought the urge, telling him she thought it would be best if she didn’t. Kyle wanted to keep a clear head. Sleeping under the same roof would only serve as a distraction.
Standing in the vanity area near the bathroom, Kyle switched on the light and glanced in the mirror. She grimaced. Her face awash in a greenish-yellow glow, she wondered why the lighting in motel rooms was always so unflattering. Pulling the clip from her hair, she placed it in her mouth and gathered the strands into a fresh ponytail.
Suddenly, she noticed someone standing directly behind her, staring at her through the reflection in the mirror.
The clip fell from her mouth, dropping into the sink, and making a sharp, tinny noise as it bounced against the porcelain. Kyle spun around.
No one was there.
She looked at the door; it was wide open.
Kyle ran to it, checked outside. A vehicle peeled out of the parking lot, then sped away.
Her heart was pounding against her ribs, and her stomach muscles felt tight, restricting her breathing. She shut the door, locked the deadbolt, and leaned against it, eyes closed.
Somebody had been inside her room. Waiting for her. Watching her. This was no vi
sion: this was real flesh and blood.
The notion sent an icy sensation throughout her entire body. She could handle the images in her mind; she was used to those. But an intruder in her real world—that was something she hadn’t expected. The idea of someone singling her out made her feel frightened, vulnerable. Kyle moved to the window and peered out through the drapes, scanning the immediate area.
Everything was still and silent.
She reached for the phone, punched in Cameron’s number. As he began to answer, she interrupted him. “Can you come and get me?”
“What’s going on?”
“I’ll explain when you get here.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Hurry,” she said and hung up the phone.
* * *
Ten minutes later Cameron was knocking on her door. Kyle peered through the peephole, relieved to see his face on the other side. She pulled the door open, and their eyes met. The fear on Kyle’s face said everything. He gazed into the room, then back at her. “Let’s get out of here.”
She said nothing, nodding as she walked past him and out the door.
When he turned back around, Kyle was already leaning against the hood of his car, arms wrapped around herself, and staring off at nothing.
* * *
Kyle sat at Cameron’s kitchen table. He handed her a cup of hot green tea, which she took eagerly, wrapping her fingers around it, staring at the contents.
“Any idea who’d want to follow you?” he asked, taking a seat across from her.
“I was going to ask you the same question.” She finally took a sip, looked inside her cup again, and swirled the liquid.
“Can’t imagine. Nobody here even knows you.”
“All the more reason,” she said. “Maybe they don’t want me here. Maybe they don’t like strangers.”
“This town may take notice of strangers, but we don’t chase them away.”
While the Savage Sleeps Page 23
