Eyes to the Soul (34 page)

*

Brandt pinched the
bridge of his nose. Sam had been devastated by this last vision. Not by the woman’s death, but by the loneliness she’d felt in the old woman’s energy. As if she’d been alone for a long time. There was so little Brandt could do to help her. And almost nothing to help the old woman. In true form Sam hadn’t been able to get any identifying marks to help pinpoint a location so that he could even begin to find the body. Until she was found he had only Sam’s word. He knew she’d be right but he might never see the result, depending on where the old woman lived. Sam’s abilities were getting stronger, and her reach farther. That made his job all that much harder.

He glanced up at the huge chart he’d started earlier. It was a vast amount of information, but again no pattern. At least not one he’d managed to determine. He stood up and added Female C – he already had Female A and B. Then entered the little bit of information he had available. The woman’s legs burning was new. He double-checked and realized in no other case had Sam picked up damage to the legs. Interesting. A picture was starting to form in his head. He gave himself a headshake.

There was no way.

But when all else is wrong, what remains has to be the truth.

He stared at the answer in shock.

Someone was picking on each victim through a different body part. These victims were being chosen by the areas where Sam was feeling the burning pain.

And if that was true, how did the killer know these people had this area for him to attack? Did it need to be a weaker area? Was that what made them vulnerable to his particular form of violence?

His mind balked at the idea of a big muscular male being linked to this old woman that Sam had just connected with.

And how – if at all – did this connect to Celina? He reached for the phone. “Stefan, I think I’ve got something.”

Assured he had Stefan’s attention, he quickly explained the pattern – the fact that there was no repetition of body parts – then tossed in his hypothesis. He finished by asking if any of that fit Celina’s case.

“It might. I’ll call you later.”

And he hung up the phone. Brandt stared in shock at the phone in his hand. He couldn’t remember any time when Stefan had hung up on him.

I haven’t now, but Celina was listening in. That I can’t have. She’s sitting on the deck now waiting for dinner. Give me that information again,
Stefan said again.

Brandt quietly repeated his words to the empty room knowing Stefan could hear him. He stood in front of the chart and went over a couple of the cases out loud.

Celina’s weakness is her eyes, so it makes sense that’s where we’d see the energy blockage. And it’s definitely connected to the asshole that is haunting her, but there’s no way to know if it’s the same man who’s doing all the other killings.

“It’s an avenue we have to consider.” Brandt added, “The real question is if it is the same man who killed all of these others, then why hasn’t he killed Celina? Or is she next?”

*

Eric shifted in
his bed. He could hear the other kids in the big room all laughing and playing. Across from him was another little boy who had just come out of surgery. He didn’t look very good. His face was puffy, splotchy. His eyes closed, his breathing raspy. Eric didn’t know what was wrong, but he didn’t think he was going to make it. There was so much darkness around him. And that darkness would keep Eric away. He wished the other little boy had a defender. Maybe then that blackness wouldn’t come closer to Eric. He hated the color black. At least now.

He glanced back at the window, happy that he no longer thought flying out that window would be a good idea. Stefan had said lots of the thoughts in his head could be the drugs or the monsters and if the thoughts weren’t good ones, he was to throw them into the washing machine he’d left in the corner of Eric’s mind and then they’d come out clean again. He laughed at the idea, but if Stefan said it worked, then it worked. And that made him feel great. He eyed the blackness around the boy. Was it drifting his way?

It wasn’t the same as the evil man.

It was like the blackness of some of the other sick boys.

But how could he know for sure that they didn’t hear the same black man inside of them?

Eric snuck lower down under the sheets, but couldn’t tear his gaze away from the cloud of evil.

C
elina put her
fork down and reached for her glass of wine. She pushed her chair back slightly and sighed happily. “That was delicious. Gorgeous, capable, and a wonderful cook. Why hasn’t someone snapped you up, Stefan?”

His laughter rolled out across the meadows. “Maybe I’ve been waiting for you all my life,” he said, a warm caress in his voice.

She smiled. “No dodging the question. I almost got married and you’re another what – three, four years older than me? So it’s not like there would have been a lack of opportunity.”

“Maybe not. But I do come with certain abilities that make some people uncomfortable.”

“Oh?” She took another sip and considered. “I suppose the energy work would be as equally scary to some people as it is attractive to others.”

“My art is the same. I’ve developed quite a name, but there is nothing nice or easy about my paintings. They are the outpourings of the worst in my soul, and that makes them difficult to gaze upon.” He laughed again but it was devoid of humor. “I’ve seen and have been involved with a lot of seriously deranged killers and victims. It leaves a mark on your soul.”

She thought about all he’d said and what he hadn’t. “I’m sorry. I think you must hurt with each of the victims. It’s your way.” She heard the distance in the silence then felt his hand cover hers.

“Thank you for seeing that.” He squeezed her hand once, then released it.

His chair pushed back and he said, “I’ll clear off the table and return with the rest of the wine.”

“Can I help?” She half-rose.

He pressed her back into her chair. “Relax. I have dessert to come as well.”

She must have made a hum of pleasure because he laughed, dropped a kiss on her head and left, dishes clanging in his hands.

She relaxed back and thought about the man who lived and worked on ugly cases. Who slept with nightmares of the victims and still got up the next day and did it all over again. She was no longer interested in seeing his paintings as she imagined them to be torturous for him to produce, but she was happy to know he had that outlet. Like her music, they were necessary vents for the thing they called life.

Stefan returned in minutes, placing several items on the table.

“Dessert is double mocha cheesecake and I’m going to top up your wine.”

She listened to the liquid splashing in the glass, and wondered at how much being here with him made her smile. Her mouth almost hurt because of it. She hadn’t laughed this much in years. She said as much to him.

“What was your relationship like with your fiancé?” he asked, curiosity in his voice.

“Passionate, possessive on both sides. There was just the two of us. No family for either of us, so we were completely wrapped up in each other. It never occurred to me until months just before his death that we were too close. Too dependent on each other.”

She took another sip, her mind retracing the years. “We met, and that was it for both of us. After he died I believed there’d never be anyone else for me.”

“And now?” Stefan asked, his voice as smooth as the chocolate cheesecake sliding down her throat.

“And now? I wonder if I knew what love was at all.” She couldn’t help the sad sigh. At the warm silence from him, she asked, “What are you thinking about so heavily? Weighing options?”

Still silence. She tried again. “Stefan, I can hear you thinking. What’s going on?”

“That phone call earlier was from Detective Sutherland, who is looking into a series of killings that might be related.”

“I’m sorry,” she said in gentle voice. “That must be difficult.” Then she got it. Her tone changed as she leaned forward and pushed her chair back to stand up. “Do you need to go to work? I know I’ve taken a lot of your time today.”

“No. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”

At the blank look on her face he said, “I think these cases are related to the predator you are dealing with.”

She sat back down with a heavy thud. “Sorry,” she said faintly. “You think this guy might be killing people? As in other people?”

“Yes, and I’m afraid he might try to kill you.”

*

Stefan almost winced
at the shock, horror, and instant denial that raced across her face.

“There’s no reason for him to. He wants to see something, but that’s all. If he was capable, he could have killed me a long time ago if that had been his plan. It’s not like I have any defenses against him.”

“That’s not true. We don’t know how he’s killing these people, or why, or even how he’s picking his victims. Maybe you could tell me more about your accident, the surgery you had afterwards, and anything else that happened around the same time.”

She threw up her hands. “What’s to say? I was in a vehicle that was hit by a drunk driver. I don’t remember any of the details, having thankfully blocked that out. I woke up in the hospital blind and was told that I was going in for more surgery.” She shrugged. “I woke up a long time later with my eyes having been operated on, and this is what you see as the result. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Any other injuries?” Stefan probed gently, “Any broken bones? Deaths of other people in the vehicle? Did the drunk driver survive?”

“Ha, don’t they always? He lived and was barely injured, but then he was driving some monster truck.” She sighed, turning her head into the light breeze drifting across her face. “I don’t have many details, mostly because I don’t want many details. I talk to Gordon all the time, he used to manage the auditorium where we played, and he’s never mentioned requiring any kind of continuing rehab or anything.”

She winced. “Honestly, I never asked. As for my girlfriend Jillian, well, she doesn’t talk much at the best of times. Then Susan moved away after the accident. I lost touch.” She snorted with painful honesty. “That’s not true. I was so angry. So mad that they’d walked away with no injuries that I shut them all out of my life.” She lifted a trembling hand. “I’m not a nice person.”