The girl closed her eyes as if searching inwardly for strength. “All right. All right.” She took a breath and began, her voice shaky, but determined. “I was running. . . .”
And then Megan was there. Side by side, she and Linda Keller were running along one of the winding paths through the town park. Megan felt the night breeze on her face, the cool air in her lungs, the heat of her body, her own steady footfalls and the other girl’s hand in her own.
“Remember, we’re safe. This is over, in the past. Nothing can happen to us.”
“I know. It’s still so scary.” The girl’s steps slowed, and she came to a stop. “It’s up there, right around that bend. He must be hiding behind that tree, there.”
Megan strained her eyes, but couldn’t see any sign of anyone.
The girl squeezed her hand. “Okay, here we go.” And she began running again. They approached the bend, and her grip grew tighter. They started around it, and then Megan felt the powerful arm snap around her neck, jerk her backward to the ground.
“It’s not real,” she said, though her voice was strained. She was on her back now, and the man was straddling her. His weight on her made it almost impossible to breathe. Beyond the hulking form she saw Linda standing there, a petrified onlooker, still clutching Megan’s hand. When the rain of blows fell, Megan’s head snapped with every one and pain shot through her, and she heard the girl begin to cry.
“Megan, stop, it’s enough!”
That was Sam’s voice, and it was rough with emotion.
“It’s all right. It’s okay,” she managed. “Slow it down, Linda. Remember it as if in slow motion.”
“I’ll try.”
And the scene playing out slowed. Megan was able to look up at the dark shape that loomed over her. To see every blow coming at her before feeling its impact. He was bigger than Sam, heavier. She couldn’t see his face, only the black ski cap that covered it. The blows came slowly, but she still felt the pain of them. She fought to stay as calm and as cold as ice, even when she felt his hands tearing at her clothes.
She was seeing through only one eye now, as he jammed a hand down her pants, and she gripped his wrist with one hand, just as Linda had, to stop him, touching not the glove he wore, but the skin above it.
Then Sam was there, shouting, and the man tore himself off her and ran.
SAM was on the floor beside Megan, and so was Linda Keller. They’d started out on the bed. Linda had been describing everything that had happened, while holding Meg’s hand, but Megan seemed to be the one living it. When Linda got to the point where the man grabbed her from behind, Meg had come off the bed as if jerked from behind herself, hitting the floor back-first. Linda came off the bed with her, grappling to grab hold of her hand again, and Sam rushed to Meg’s side, terrified of what he was seeing, Meg jerked her arms up over her face as if warding off blows, and then one hand shot down to clutch at something—at nothing. Just air.
“Megan, honey, come on, it’s enough. You’re killing yourself with this.” He gripped her shoulders, shook them gently. “Meg, I mean it. It’s enough, come back!”
Her eyes opened slowly. Sam was shocked to see a trickle of blood coming from her nostril. “Jesus, what the hell?”
She touched the blood, looked at it on her fingertips. “Your body believes what your mind tells it,” she whispered. She took a few breaths, seemed to try to shake off the vision. “Mine thinks it just took a beating. This is a little more realism than I expected, but . . .”
He helped her sit up, realized he was shaking as badly as she was. It was as if he’d just witnessed an assault on her by some invisible force. And he realized she was hurting as if that were exactly what had happened. She held a hand to her jaw as he lifted her to her feet, then helped her to the chair. She sank into it.
The girl handed him a box of tissues, then got back up onto her bed. “Megan, did it work? Did you see him?”
Megan lifted her head, clutching a tissue to her nose, while Sam leaned over her, stroking her hair and back and shoulders. It tore him apart to see her going through all of this. He hated it.
“No,” Megan said. “But I felt him. You touched him, grabbed his wrist to stop him from groping you. And so I did too. And I felt him.”
Linda frowned, looking at Sam. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” Sam said. “There was no skin under her nails, Meg.” He looked at Meg, but she said nothing. “I’m sorry we put you through all that, Linda,” he said, without taking his eyes from Megan. “I really think I should get her home.”
“Me too,” Linda said.
“Will you be okay?” Sam asked, forcing himself to look at the girl.
She nodded. “They’re letting me go home today.”
Meg came out of her thoughts, and smiled a little. “Roderick will be so glad to see you.”
“I know. I miss him.” Linda shifted her eyes to Sam’s again. “Will I be safe there?”
He nodded. “We’ll have a car watching the place, and set you up with a panic button. You hit it, and officers will be there within seconds.”
She nodded. “Thank you again.” Then she looked at Meg. “I can’t believe you put yourself through that once, much less twice. Will she be okay, Detective Sheridan?”
“I’ll make sure of it.” Sam bent to scoop Megan up, but she shook her head. “I can walk. You go carrying me, they’re going to want to check me in.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded, so he held her close, supporting her as they walked slowly out of the room. And then Meg said, “She called you Detective Sheridan. I thought it was ‘Officer.’ ”
He closed his eyes. “It’s Detective.”
“I didn’t think detectives routinely worked traffic,” she said.
“They don’t.” He sighed, wishing this had come at a better time. “Meg, I’m not going to lie to you. The speed trap was a setup. No one believed you knew the things you knew about that last victim through ESP. I was assigned to get to know you, try to find out what was really going on.”
She looked as hurt by that revelation as she had been by the attack she’d just experienced. God, she was barely holding her own weight. He felt like the meanest bastard in the world as she stared up at him, her eyes as betrayed as if she were a puppy who’d just been drop-kicked by her beloved master.
“That’s what you were keeping from me.”
“It doesn’t matter, Meg. I believe you now. I do.”
“Do you? Or is that just another part of your cover story?” She sighed, her eyes flooding. “And last night? Was that part of your investigation, too?”
“Meg—”
“Oh, God,” she whispered, backing away from him as her tears spilled over. “I thought it was real.”
“Sam, I need a word.” Chief Skinner was in the hospital corridor, waiting for Sam when they came out of Linda Keller’s hospital room, demanding his attention.
Sam gave Megan’s hand a squeeze. It was real, he thought, and he hoped to God she could see his message in his eyes, even though he couldn’t say it out loud, not with the chief standing right at his shoulder now. He willed her to see the truth in his eyes. But she only kept backing away, shaking her head from side to side. And then she turned and ran for the elevators.
Chapter Ten
HE was surprised she made it to the elevator without col lapsing, and only the chief’s firm grip on his shoulder kept him from racing after her.
“Jesus,” the chief muttered. “What happened to her?”
Not sure how to answer without losing credibility with the man whose respect he valued above all others, he said, “She took a little fall, that’s all. I need to go after her, Chief.”
The chief nodded. “Yeah, I know you do. Thirty seconds, okay?”
Sam sent a worried look toward the now closed elevator doors.
“So, are you getting anything out of her?”
“No.” He took a step toward the elevator.
<
br /> The chief put himself right in Sam’s path, blocking it. “Then she hasn’t come up with anything on the killer?”
“No, nothing yet.” It was all he could do not to shove the man aside.
“We didn’t find any prints at her house,” Ed Skinner said, shaking his head with regret. “Are you sure he was even there, Sam? Hell, she’s the only one who saw him. For all we know she could have smashed that window in herself, just as an excuse to make you come running.”
Sam frowned deeply, finally focusing on the chief. “She’s not the kind of woman who’d do something like that. You don’t know her, Chief.”
“You don’t know her either, Sam. You only met her a few days ago. She probably doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who’d hang around with a serial killer either. But she must be, or she wouldn’t know what she knows.”
Sam licked his lips. “Chief—Ed, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but what if she really does have some kind of . . . ability? What if she’s telling the truth about how she knew where that last body was found?”
“I don’t buy it,” he said.
“Apparently, the killer does. I think that’s who was at her house last night. I really do.”
“What makes you think so?”
Sam shook his head. “Instinct. And I know she hasn’t come up with anything solid yet, Chief, but I think she’s close. I think she might just come up with what we need to break this case.”
“How? She know what the guy looks like?”
“No. She said she knows what he feels like, though.”
“Feels like? I don’t get it.”
Just then, the elevator doors opened, and Megan came through them and walked up to stand beside Sam. “I was going to wait in the car, but . . . I forgot the keys,” she said.
She didn’t look good, worse than she had a moment ago, if that were possible. She was pale, and trembling. He reached into his pocket for the keys even as it occurred to him that wasn’t why she’d come back. She’d come back because she was hurting bad, and because she needed him. She sagged a little, and reached out a hand to steady herself on the chief’s shoulder.
“Hell, Meg, come here.” Sam slid his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. “I gotta get her out of here, Chief.”
“Yeah. Yeah, you go on,” he said. “Feel better, Ms. Rose.”
She lifted her head slowly, her eyes finding the chief’s, just before Sam helped her back into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, she slumped in Sam’s arms and passed out cold.
He scooped her up, swearing, thought he ought to take her right back in and hand her over to the nearest nurse. But she wasn’t suffering from anything physical, he knew that. Not really. She wanted to get out of here, and he was compelled to give her what she wanted. He knew she would be all right in a few minutes. So he ignored his practical mind and heeded his instincts, carrying her out of the elevator when it stopped on the ground level, and then out to his car. He lowered her onto the passenger seat, then knelt in the open doorway, pressing his hands to her face.
“Megan? Honey, come on, are you okay?”
She blinked her eyes slowly at him. “No. Far from it.” She looked back toward the hospital suddenly, as if frightened, and he followed her gaze, only to see his boss, the chief, leaving through the same doors they’d just exited, heading for his car in some other part of the lot.
“Get me out of here, Sam,” she whispered.
“Okay. All right.” God, they had to talk. He had to explain himself to her, but he’d like her at least coherent when he did. And he wasn’t even entirely sure just what it was he was going to say. “Do you want to go back to my place, or to yours?”
She stared into his eyes. “I need to see your grandmother.”
Sam was tempted to check her for a fever, or ask how many fingers as he held a couple up in front of her. “I’m not following.”
“Neither am I.”
“You know something. Or you think you do. What is it, Megan?”
She swallowed hard, nodded slowly. “Chief Skinner—” she began. And as if saying his name invoked him somehow, the chief’s car passed by on its way out of the parking lot, and Sam saw him staring at the two of them.
“What about him?” Sam asked as he waved at his trusted friend.
“He’s the rapist. He’s the killer.”
Sam’s hand froze in midair. He felt his face change with the shock of her words, and quickly shot her a look of sheer disbelief. “Don’t be ridiculous—hell, Megan, did you hit your head or something back there?”
“It’s him. I touched him, and I saw it, felt it. It’s him, Sam.”
He swung his head toward the chief’s car as the man drove away, and caught him looking back, his face troubled.
“No. No way, you’re wrong. You’re dead wrong about this, Meg.”
“I know I’m right. And there’s more, but I . . . I have to see Lily before I can be sure.”
He shook his head. “He’s been my mother’s best friend since my father . . . I’m sorry, Meg, but I can’t let you go making all kinds of crazy accusations to my family. He’s practically a part of my family, for God’s sake.” Then he looked at her again. “It’s Lily who put this crazy notion into your head, isn’t it? She’s never liked him. And now you want to go making some wild accusations that will convince her she’s been right all along.”
“Maybe Lily never liked him because she’s slightly psychic herself. She calls it intuition. Whatever it is, somehow she knows he’s rotten inside. Evil.” She pressed a hand to Sam’s face when he looked away from her. “Sam, look at me. You know I wouldn’t repeat any of this to your family. And no, it isn’t coming from Lily and I’m not going to make any accusations to her or to anyone else. Only you, Sam. I can’t not tell you this. Not this. Because . . . because all of a sudden, I understand what it means.”
“You’re three steps ahead of me, then. What does it mean?”
She held his face between her palms. “There’s no curse. There never was.”
He was having trouble trying to follow her as her train of thought seemed to jump the tracks. And focusing on her words was damn near impossible when she was touching him, when her mouth was so close to his and her eyes were sparkling the way they were. “No curse?”
She smiled softly. “No curse.” Then her smile died as she looked past him, and her eyes widened. “He’s coming back.”
Sam turned to see the chief’s car rolling back into the parking lot.
“Sam, we have to get out of here!”
She was terrified, clearly, of his boss and mentor and friend. And it made no sense at all, but something wouldn’t let him brush it off. He didn’t believe any of it, but for Megan, he would give her the benefit of the doubt. Act as if there were some remote chance she could be right. Because he believed in her. “We’re going,” he promised. “Buckle up, Meg.”
He closed her door, went around to his side, got in, and got going.
On their way out they passed the chief in his car. He watched them closely, didn’t return Sam’s friendly wave or his forced smile. Something was off, something was wrong.
“Sam, we have to keep him away from Linda Keller.”
“He already knows Linda didn’t see anything. Even if he was our boy—and I gotta tell you, Meg, there’s no way in hell he is—but even if he was, Linda would pose no threat to him.” He glanced back to watch the chief’s car, in spite of himself. “And even if she did, he wouldn’t do anything at the hospital. Not when she lives alone, and is being released today.”
And yet he watched. The chief’s car only circled the lot and left it again. “Look, he’s not even stopping.”
Megan was watching too. “He only came back to see what we were doing. He’s checking up on us, Sam. He may realize we’re on to him.”
“We’re not on to him.”
“You’re not. I am. And I think your father was, too.”
“My . . .” He couldn’t
talk for a second. It was as if her words stole his breath. He managed to catch it and tried again. “You think my father believed this? Jesus, Megan, he was a cop. If he thought his own partner was a violent criminal he’d have turned him in, no matter how close they were.”
“Yeah. Exactly. So Skinner would have made sure he never got the chance.”
“No. No, no way was Ed involved in my father’s death. They were like brothers, Megan.”
“Lily said your father had been acting oddly for a week prior to his death. Don’t you want to know why?”
He stared at her, and something icy cold seemed to solidify over his chest as he finally considered how easy it would have been. His father and Ed Skinner had been the only two cops on the scene of that liquor store robbery. And Ed Skinner had been the only survivor left to tell the story.
He tried to shake off the chilling feeling. “There could have been a hundred reasons for him to have been acting offkilter that week.”
“You’re right. There could have been.” She covered his hand with hers. “Lily told me your mother hasn’t changed a thing in your father’s den since he died. That it’s like a shrine to him in there.”
Sam nodded as he drove. “It was always off-limits to the rest of the family, that den. Mom still doesn’t let anyone in there. Guards it like a lioness. She’s the only one who can go inside. Says she feels closer to Dad when she spends time in the den.”
“Has she ever let Skinner inside?”
He shook his head. “Never.”
“Has he ever asked?”
Sam blinked, recalling how determined Ed had been to get into his father’s private den right around the time of the funeral. Hell, it had been a source of added worry to his mother, and had infuriated Lily. He slanted a look at Megan. “Actually, he did. Right after Dad’s death. Something about some missing files that pertained to a case they’d been working on.”
“And did your mother let him go in?”
“No. As I remember it, she told him she had gone through the room from top to bottom and had boxed up everything that had to do with work. She gave that box of files to Ed.” He tried to swallow but the memories seemed to be drying out his throat. “It was odd, he asked her if she’d read through them. He seemed almost—scared. When she said she had been a policeman’s wife long enough to know better than to snoop through private files, he seemed satisfied, took the box, and as far as I know, he never asked again.”
Man of My Dreams Page 14
