Haunting Whispers (10 page)

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Authors: V. K. Powell

BOOK: Haunting Whispers
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“If that’s what you want.” Once again her careless words had wounded Rae. Audrey felt the underlying turmoil as Rae seemed to struggle before she spoke. “There’s a good chance I’m wrong about this, Audrey. Maybe you’ve already told me everything that happened at the community center and I’m way off base. My instincts haven’t been great lately.” She coughed, a throat-clearing noise almost stifled by emotion. “I
really
need to know…if I’m wrong again.”

Rae’s confidence clearly had evaporated and doubt seeped in like water through a sieve. Audrey’s heart ached for her, so raw and exposed. What had happened in the past to make her question something so basic? She’d revealed a vulnerability that obviously caused her pain. Rae Butler didn’t trust easily. If Audrey diminished the significance of this moment, she might never experience it again.

As she stared at Rae her anger disappeared, replaced by compassion. No one had ever spoken to her that honestly about her insecurity. Rae touched her deeply even as Audrey tried to be her most resistant. “We might as well talk. You won’t rest until you have all the answers.”

She motioned for Rae to join her on the sofa and waited for the barrage of questions that she dreaded. Rae’s green eyes had turned springtime again, warm and open. Audrey wanted to surrender, to fall into that openness and let someone else help. Could she?

“If you knew your attacker used a stun gun, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Maybe she could tell Rae the truth, to a point. “I wanted to take care of it myself. You have no idea how demeaning and disempowering it is for people to consider you a
victim
. They look at you differently, like you’re at fault, like you asked for it.”

Rae didn’t speak for several minutes and her gaze scanned the room before settling on Audrey again. “I actually do know what that’s like. I was assaulted off duty once. And trust me, it’s worse when fellow cops look at you like you deserved it because you couldn’t protect yourself. I want to help every victim reclaim what was taken from them in some way.”

It wasn’t the callous response she’d expected from a cop or the meaningless platitudes of the near-strangers in her life. She relaxed, pleased and surprised that someone understood—that Rae understood. Maybe she’d misjudged her and maybe other people would be supportive as well. She hadn’t allowed herself to even consider the possibility, much less try to find out.

“Would you mind going through what happened step by step, please?” Rae asked.

Audrey recounted the assault, remembering everything and seeing nothing. The energy around her had shifted and become very dark during the incident. She’d tried to focus on her assailant’s feelings but had seemingly stepped into a storm cloud of static cacophony. It was frustrating. She’d agonized for days, warring with herself about telling Rae, and now that she remembered, her recollection wasn’t helpful.

“Do you know anyone who would want to harm you?”

“No.” She answered too quickly, without conviction. Calm down, Audrey told herself. Rae is only trying to help. She doesn’t know anything that can hurt you and won’t find out unless you tell her.

“Are you sure, Audrey? Think carefully. There has to be something.”

“I moved to Kramer a year ago for my job, and the people at work are the only ones I know. I’ve barely had time to get acclimated, much less make enemies.” Exactly what Audrey had wanted to avoid—Rae or anyone else delving into her past. Audrey read the apology on Rae’s face. She looked like she’d unintentionally wronged a friend and didn’t know how to fix it. At least she had the decency to realize she was being intrusive.

Rae reached for Audrey’s hands but stopped. It felt like the right thing to do, to comfort and reassure her for prying into her life. Audrey hadn’t been receptive to her touch before, and Trevor’s misplaced contact earlier had seemed to genuinely disturb her. How could she reassure Audrey and encourage her to cooperate? Rae sensed Audrey wasn’t telling her everything—maybe not about her assault, but about something.

The stun-gun marks provided the first real clue that someone had actually assaulted Audrey, aside from a shoe print of questionable value and a few nondescript bruises. Why the reluctance? Suddenly another possibility occurred to her. What if Audrey knew her attacker and was protecting him or her?

It made sense. Maybe the entire I-can’t-remember thing had been a ruse to give Audrey more time to fabricate a plausible cover story. She wouldn’t be the first person to risk her integrity for someone she cared about. However, this seemed a bit out of character for her. Audrey could’ve been seriously injured and didn’t seem like the kind of person to accept abuse and cover it up.

The look in Audrey’s eyes was not that of a lying woman afraid to be found out. It was the frightened stare of a cornered woman unsure where to turn. Rae breathed a little easier. She didn’t want to believe Audrey was capable of lying, but reminded herself that anyone was capable of deceit when it served their purpose.

She doodled in her notebook as a list of possible suspects spun through her mind: an angry ex-lover, a jealous current one, disgruntled coworker, someone with a grudge against the mayor or city government in general. Maybe someone from her past. “So what about where you lived before? Surely you had time to make a few acquaintances, maybe even a few enemies.”

“There’s no one.”

“Are you sure? Nobody lives their life without pissing off someone unless they live in a bubble or don’t stay put for long.”

Audrey rubbed her temples and repeated, “No one.”

“Why don’t you give me your last address anyway and I’ll snoop around a little. If it’s somebody from your past, I’ll find him.” Crime victims often needed additional assurance that they’d be protected during the process. Maybe Audrey’s reluctance was about personal safety.

“What part of
there is no one
don’t you understand, Detective?”

Rae looked up from her pad. “But—”

“But what? You can’t resist the opportunity to nose around in my life? Isn’t it enough that this investigation can blow apart my present without dredging up history? Trust me, the mayor won’t be happy to have one of his staff involved in this unseemly business.”

Dumbfounded, Rae had no idea where Audrey’s anger or defensiveness came from, only that it was aimed at her. “Audrey, believe me, I don’t enjoy poking around in people’s private lives. Sometimes it’s the only way to get answers. If you’re hiding something, you could have been assaulted because of it.”

Audrey vigorously massaged her temples as the blood drained from her face. “I need for you to leave now. I’m not feeling well.”

“I’m sorry. What can I do?”

“You can go—and you can stay out of my past. It has nothing to do with this.”

Rae stared into eyes so vividly blue and full of emotion that they seemed to churn like ocean swells in a storm. She didn’t respond to the statement. She’d heard it too many times in other cases and it was often proven wrong.

She couldn’t bear the anguish on Audrey’s face or her resulting Pavlovian response to come to her rescue. Audrey looked like a child who’d come home and found her family moved without her. Rae felt capable only of doing her job, but that wouldn’t address the other desires that Audrey Everhart conjured up in her.

Rae felt the attraction between them, the edge of interest every time they were near. But the look in Audrey’s eyes each time she avoided Rae’s touch had been one of shock and maybe a bit of fear. Still, the current that sparked between them was real, desire so thick it was almost edible. If Rae couldn’t maintain a professional distance, perhaps she was as inadequate a cop as she was a partner.

Audrey Everhart sparked suspicion in her like a match in dry timber. Audrey’s soft voice made Rae irrationally want to believe anything she said. But Rae’s twelve-year career had taught her that people
always
had a motive for their behavior.

As Rae approached the door to leave, she remembered her reason for the visit. She’d forgotten all about Jeremy Sutton and hated to bring him up now. She couldn’t return to Sergeant Sharp without answers.

“Audrey, I’m sorry. I have to ask about Jeremy Sutton. Did you go to his place?”

The pained expression returned to Audrey’s face. Her shoulders slumped and she appeared exhausted. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“I told you, I wanted to handle it myself. I thought he might be connected to my assault. Obviously I was mistaken. We chatted a few minutes and I left. Why?”

“He was murdered yesterday.” Rae had delivered death notices many times and could read the range of emotions from barely fazed to totally debilitated. Audrey Everhart seemed completely shocked. She paled and grabbed the door for support. She clearly had no idea and absolutely nothing to do with Sutton’s death.

“How…what…why?”

“His throat was slashed. No idea why. The homicide squad is investigating. Someone will come by to question you later, I’m sure. They found your prints at the scene.”

“Was this my fault? Because I went to his house?”

What a strange question. Why would Audrey’s visit endanger Jeremy Sutton? Did she also know more about his death than she was saying? An uncomfortable gnawing sensation settled in Rae’s gut again. She expected suspicion when dealing with suspects, but not with victims. It always surprised her when it happened.

 

*

 

Arya hadn’t planned to kill anyone. He was supposed to watch over her, protect her, and eventually claim her. He followed her to a stranger’s house and stared in disbelief as she went inside. She didn’t know this man. During his weeks of surveillance, she had never visited the location before. Why did she constantly place herself in danger, first at the community center and now this? She needed him more than he’d realized. When she walked into the house, Arya resisted the temptation to break down the door and rescue her. Instead he’d crept to a side window and watched their interaction, ready at any moment to defend her.

They talked about
him
. She was trying to find
him
but didn’t know it. He smiled, happy that she sought him even without knowing who he was. She sensed him, just as he’d imagined the first time they’d met. Their lives were intertwined, of that he was certain. Soon she would understand why they had to wait, why he couldn’t go to her as they both wanted. In the meantime, he kept constant vigil, keeping her safe and unspoiled.

Then it happened. As she walked out the door, the man stopped her. He captured her small, delicate hand and clung like a predator. The familiarity of the image seared into Arya’s brain like a brand. His blood pounded fast and hot. No one could touch her except him. This man dared to violate the sanctity of his agreement with her. He would be held accountable.

Arya escorted her home and made sure she was safely inside before returning to the man’s house. When darkness came, he knocked on the door. As it opened, Arya struck, one quick slash across the throat at the precise spot. He spun sideways, avoiding the scarlet spray, and watched as his prey staggered backward and slumped to the floor.

“You should
not
have grabbed her. She is
mine
.” Arya whispered loud enough for him to hear. The dying man’s eyes grew wide, lost their shimmer, then clouded over. He debated severing the man’s hands for touching her, but the longer he stayed the greater the chance of being seen or leaving evidence. Arya waited until death was his only companion in the room then slipped out.

Chapter Six
 

The next morning Rae sat in the university coffee shop, Ken Whitt’s choice, not hers, waiting for him to arrive. People darted through the small café securing their early fixes of caffeine, sugar, and news before heading to work or school. Faculty members stuck out from students, each in their personalized version of the academic uniform, each making her uncomfortable in a different way.

She’d spent her youth working instead of getting an education. Her decision often made her feel out of step with her more educated peers. The professors evoked deeper, more personal responses—inadequacy and failure. Janet had left their relationship for one of her own kind. Rae evaluated each person and imagined what he or she possessed that she didn’t, besides a degree.

Such thinking only confused her and kept her rooted in the past. She sipped her bitter, almost-cold espresso and read the class notes her advisor, Mrs. Cowan, had forwarded. Her professors had agreed to let her take finals if she made up the work she’d missed. Exams began in a few days, and she was nowhere near ready.

“Heard you missed a few classes. Is everything okay?”

This is why she hadn’t wanted to meet Ken Whitt here. She’d reasoned that it was Janet’s day off so the likelihood of running into her was minute. So much for reason. Janet’s voice contained a hint of concern, which elicited conflicting emotions. Rae took a few seconds, calmed her breathing, and finally looked up.

Janet looked as beautiful as ever. Her tailored business suit clung to her curves, and an open-necked blouse flashed a tasteful exposure of flesh. Her jet-black hair was closely trimmed and accented high cheekbones. The brown of her eyes shimmered with flecks of gold that Rae associated with excitement. In spite of her mental protests, Rae’s body responded as it usually did to Janet, with arousal. And, damn, Janet knew it.

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