Hidden Mortality (12 page)

One of the things that stood out at this moment was the picture of Shona and herself when they went to Spain. They had been nineteen and having fun. Way too much fun involving young men, midnight strolls on beaches and booze.

They both looked so happy. How did she move on from this? Cara peered at her bedside clock. It was three in the afternoon. What would she tell Daniel and Jeff? This morning they hadn’t pushed her. They just knew Shona had been killed.

Detective Seps now knew Cara had seen the marks before. Once on a picture a reporter carried, and then on the front page of the paper. There would be no point in telling him about the dreams. He’d decide she was ready for a one-way ticket to the loony bin.

She started to shake. She pulled her legs up and hugged them to stop the tremors. Was this what it was like to go insane? Had she truly killed that other woman and Shona? If that was the case, why couldn’t she remember doing it?

The bedroom door opened a crack. Daniel poked his head inside. “You’re awake. I’ll put on the kettle.”

Her bladder needed emptying. Staying in bed forever wasn’t an option anyway. Daniel was there with a cup of tea when she came out of the bathroom. An aroma of food cooking filled her flat. Daniel went back into the kitchen and stirred something on the stove.

“I’ve made some soup. It’s almost ready and the bread will be done soon. I don’t know about you, but I need comfort food at a time like this.” He tried to smile, but it quickly faded. “Well, that and a large amount of alcohol.”

His laptop was open on the coffee table. A glance showed a list of their upcoming bookings. It was crazy. She didn’t think she would ever be able to leave this flat again, yet alone make meals. Daniel sat down beside her.

“We’ve nothing on till the weekend and I can manage with Matcher’s help. If we get stuck, I’ll arrange for a waiter from the agency.”

“No, Daniel. I want to keep working, though at this moment I’m not sure how.” Her hands shook as she held her mug of tea.

“Are you sure you don’t want to call Jessica? You’ve been through so much, and now this.”

“I don’t want to talk to her right now, maybe later.” Merlin came and sat on her lap, digging in his claws. Cara scratched his neck. Shona had always loved him. When she had slept over, he would always end up sleeping on her. She would be sneezing by morning because of her allergy.

“Did the police say if they would want to talk to you again?”

“No.”

Daniel looked dissatisfied with the answer, but it was all she could give right now.

“We received another booking today for next month. The Crescent in Bath, no less. He’s in advertising or something and a friend gave him our card. Runs a magazine called
Art UK
.”

Daniel was rambling on about what meal they would do. She let him keep talking, discussing menus and staff. The dinner was for ten. Jeff returned. From the look on his face as he frowned, Cara was sure she must look like crap. She certainly felt like it.

Daniel dished up the soup in the kitchen and whispered something to Jeff. She couldn’t eat the food. It was wonderful, almost as good as hers, but her stomach rebelled.

“I’d like a drink, Jeff.” Cara said, disrupting their conversation.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea with the sedatives you took earlier?”

“It might not be a good idea. If I have to tell you about last night, it’s what I’ll need.”

“Fair enough.” Jeff went to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of red.

Cara sniffed the rich aroma.

“Shona would have approved of this one.”

By the time they opened the second bottle, she had told them of the wounds on Shona’s body. Daniel’s fists clenched. Tears fell down his face. The phone rang and they all jumped. Then, they sat staring at it. They watched it ring on the kitchen wall. Cara was sure it was the police again. She had nothing left to tell them that they would believe.

In the end, Jeff got up. He answered the phone. He talked quietly for a while and then put the receiver down. “It was Matcher. He’s on his way over. I hope you didn’t mind me saying that was okay?”

“No, of course not,” Cara told him. “Matcher can stay here and you two can go home. Tomorrow’s another day, as Shona said when Nanna died. You have to celebrate them if you’re alive.”

Cara heard the words spouted by her own mouth, but at this moment didn’t believe them. Her life was officially shit.

If there had ever been a time Matcher had not wanted this gift, it was when he had turned up at Cara’s flat. She was being so strong. All he wanted to do was wallow in the loss of losing his own Mum and then part of his body. His life was crazy with all these frigging people around him who were glowing like light bulbs with a happiness he didn’t understand. Or had colors swirling with misery rotating at various areas of their bodies.

He loved the new people who had come into his life, but were they enough to keep him from going under? Mum said he couldn’t die yet. Until he got another message, he would stay and see what life would bring. Cara looked a mess. Her aura was strange to start with. Now, the dark swirls started taking over. Her head had been surrounded by a dark cloud. He had to change it. The others had gone so it was up to him. She was at rock bottom so he couldn’t do much harm.

“Listen Cara, I know this sounds stupid, but when Mum was dying we used to play a game.” From the look of shock on her face Matcher realized he had not told her about his mother.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it was a long time ago. We talked about silly things. When I was four, I decided the lounge room carpet was boring, so I got her fabric paints and redesigned it. Mum took all my Ninja Turtle toys and locked them in her wardrobe for a month. I thought my world had come to an end. Fuck, I hated her so much then. I remember telling her she was the worse Mum in the world, but I still wanted her to read to me at bedtime.” Matcher wondered what his aura was like as he spoke.

Cara smiled for the first time since he had walked in and started to talk. “I remember when Shona and I went to Spain and we both had a crush on the waiter at the hotel. He went for Shona, but said he would bring his friend along for a double date. His friend was so hot and really good in the sack. God, we laughed about that so much.”

Matcher observed the change in her aura as they spoke. He would veer the conversation in whatever direction gave the best outcome. It was the first time since he got this crazy gift that he realized he could actually do some good.

“Mum said I use to be so funny when I was in the bath as a toddler. I loved to splash and water would go everywhere. Dad would get in the bath as well sometimes. I used to have these egg shaped strainers that I would drip water through. Dad had to start placing one over his privates as I whacked them on more than one occasion. Hey I suppose that’s the bright side to my cancer. I’ve only got one ball that can be walloped if I ever have kids.”

Cara laughed and her aura brightened except for that gray area closest to her body.

“Shona once managed to get us back stage at a concert when we were eighteen. I can’t even remember the band now. It was at the Colston Hall. They asked if we wanted to go back to their hotel where they were having a pool party. I’d never driven in a stretch limo before. We played table tennis with a beach ball and I managed to whack the lead singer in the balls. That’s what your story reminded me of. There was so much booze and pot there. You know I never smoked. I didn’t try it. Shona disappeared with the lead singer. She swore to me she hadn’t slept with him.” Cara shook her head and sighed. “Now, I hope she did.”

They drank and talked on for hours about everything and nothing. Cara eventually grew tired and wanted sleep. He walked her to her room and then went back to pull out the bed settee. It didn’t change things, he couldn’t bring Shona back, but he did feel as he had helped.

Chapter 12

Sleep had come easily with the amount of wine she had consumed. Now, she lay awake in the darkness crying. It wasn’t the hacking sobs of earlier, but a continual outpouring of tears. They flowed silently until the pillow was damp. Eventually, exhaustion took over and sleep returned. With the sleep came a dream.

She was on a bridge gazing down at a river. The people around her were speaking French and she could understand it.

“More bodies pulled from the Seine.”

Cara looked at the person beside her who had spoken. They were dressed in costume as though they were from an old movie in the 1800’s. Turning back to the riverbank, she watched the gendarmes drag the bodies from the water. They were dumped unceremoniously onto the walkway.

Someone nearby vomited into the river. The stench of regurgitated alcohol attacked her nostrils. Cara peered down at the river to see a reflection that was not her own. It was Seth Scanlon’s face, but not the one she knew. This was the man from the past, the one with long hair. She felt her hand or rather Seth’s go into the pocket of his coat. Hers, no Seth’s fingers gripped the hilt of a knife. From the feel, it was the one from her dreams and his workshop. Was this her imagination or had those people really died in the past? Had Seth known them or possibly even killed them?

It was morning. Another day but nothing was the same. Another loved one was gone from her life. She was too tired to even think what the dream might mean. It was probably too much booze and too many sedatives.

Matcher had the coffee machine going when she left her room. The aroma was comforting and normal. He wore black and white stripped pajamas, in complete contrast to her pink pajamas with yellow teddy bears. She smiled, despite herself.

“You look like crap,” he offered.

She sipped on her super strong, super sweet coffee. “I know. I presume you mean my aura as well. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know right now.”

“You probably don’t need this right now. Last night when I took Merlin down to do his thing, I think someone was watching. Did the police put someone to keep an eye on your flat?”

Cara looked around. She couldn’t see Merlin anywhere in the kitchen. “If they did, they never told me.”

“I probably just imagined it. I’m hungry. Do you want some toast?”

The toast tasted like cardboard. She swallowed it down. “Did you ever see anything strange in Shona’s aura when you met her?”

“Not really. She was like most people. I saw colors in layers with a few dull patches. The patches were brown as if she was dealing with an old pain.” Matcher shook his head. “Shit, this is such a stupid gift. What’s the point if I can’t stop crap like this from happening?”

“I have crazy dreams. You see people differently. I don’t know what any of it means, except I feel so terribly sad right now.” The tears were coming back. She choked. Her body ached.

Matcher moved across the couch and hugged her.

The rest of the day passed in a blur due to the sedatives Daniel had insisted she take before he left again. He was worried. Letting others take control was what she needed right now.

Daniel came back later that day. He talked, Jeff comforted and even her mother turned up to offer what she believed was support. The problem was Cara kept seeing Shona’s body in her mind again and again.

They all needed to go. First her mother and then everyone else. Cara knew it wasn’t a good idea right now, but she desperately needed to be alone. Her mother was dealing with the relatives and making the arrangements for the funeral. They had not been told when the police would let the body go yet though. When they were all gone she took Merlin out for his evening constitutional.

A black and white fluff-ball ran past her and to the entrance door of the apartment block. He sat there meowing to be let inside.

“Don’t you start whining at me. If you would use a kitty litter tray you wouldn’t have to come out in the cold.” Turning to go back inside, she stopped and glanced back into the darkness. Had she had heard something or someone? There it was again. This time she heard it loud and clear. Her stomach churned. A stranger’s voice called out her name.

“Cara.”

Running back inside, she slammed the front door to her flat. Grabbing the phone she called the number Inspector Seps had given her. He promised he would send a patrol car around. If it happened again, she should let him know.

She ought to phone the others and get them to come back. There wasn’t anything they could do. She wanted Seth here. She didn’t know him, but he would be comforting if only because of his size.

A month had gone by since Shona’s death. It seemed wrong that time could pass without her here. The police were nowhere nearer to finding the killer. Cara still shivered when she thought about the voice outside her flat. It hadn’t happened again, and it was most likely just her over-active imagination. Considering what had happened in her life that was understandable.

The first couple of weeks had been the worst. The funeral had helped which had surprised her. So many people came and shared their love and stories of Shona that it had been beautiful. Mum had done a brilliant job since Aunty Jose couldn’t cope. Dad had been aloof as always.

When the phone rang some days, Cara would think it was Shona. Then, the realization would come like a kick in the guts. Shona was gone. She’d never call or come by again. Jessica had phoned twice. Cara didn’t want to talk about Shona’s death with anyone, especially not someone who knew so much about her dreams.

The night they had done the meal for Peter Connor from
The Evening Post
had been the worst so far. He knew she had been Shona’s cousin. He spent all evening, trying to get information about the murder.

Matcher and Daniel had ended up forming a barrier every time Peter walked into the kitchen. There would be no more jobs from him for now. At least, it got them another article in the paper. Daniel was right. They were getting more bookings. The work kept her busy so the thoughts of what had happened didn’t totally overwhelm her.

Tonight’s booking was in Bath, at The Crescent. She had never been one to stand and admire architecture. It didn’t matter as the semi-circle of beautiful Georgian houses would take anyone’s breath away.

The apartment was beautiful. It looked like it came straight out of an interior design magazine. The kitchen had all new appliances. Daniel drooled with envy. The walls were painted cream, but the curtains were rich burgundies and navy that complimented the beautiful oak furniture.

The huge walnut table in the formal dining room was resplendent with a beautiful floral arrangement. The crisp white tablecloth could hardly be seen beneath the silver cutlery, bone china and crystal. Normally they provided the crockery and cutlery since most people’s cupboards were filled with a hotchpotch of items, but not here.

The flowers were striking in their simplicity. Cara loved the way Blooms and Shoots came up with such personal concepts. She’d informed them tonight’s booking was from an art editor. His magazine was planning on an article on swords and daggers. The centerpiece was made of red flowers in the shape of two hearts pierced with arrows. The client loved it. So had his new partner who was at least twenty years younger.

Matcher came back in the kitchen and kept pacing. He was all twitchy for some reason. She’d thought she would be the one struggling tonight. The main course was served, so they could have a breather. It had been a new dish for her. She needed to challenge herself at the moment and it took her mind off of Shona’s death.

The starter of seared scallops and Irish bacon served on a bed of fresh mint and baby spinach looked perfect with its blend of colors. The main of venison marinated in mead and served with creamy mashed potatoes and vegetable stacks had been equally as popular.

Dessert was in the fridge and was her Dingle Delight. It would take only minutes to finish. Daniel was in control anyway as always.

“Okay, what’s bugging you?” Cara asked Matcher. “Since the guests arrived, you’ve been uptight about something?”

“He’s here,” Matcher mumbled.

“Who is here?”

“Think huge man. Shaved head. Get who I mean?”

She recognized Seth from the description. So, he was one of the guests.

“It’s okay. I met him. Honestly, he looks scarier than he is. It’s funny the last time I saw him was not long before…”

It was the week before Shona died. How long would this pain continue? Conversations kept bringing back memories, ones she couldn’t face. Matcher folded his arms and looked at the floor. It wasn’t that she doubted him. It was just so much had happened. Having to cope with anything else was too much right now. She just wanted everyone to be able to sort out their own stuff. Then, she could deal with hers in private.

“That’s fine. You believe what you want. I’ll believe what I see.” Matcher turned and headed back out of the kitchen and down the hall.

Cara hoped if he was angry he wouldn’t take it out on the crystal, the bone china, or the six-foot muscle-bound smithy.

The dessert was a success and now they could serve up the coffee and liquors. Daniel walked back into the kitchen beaming from ear to ear.

“They loved it. Four of them asked for our cards and sample menus. It’s good, Cara. This is where we make our name. These are the sort of people who have contacts. This is the beginning of things going well for us.” Daniel hugged her. “They want to meet you as well. You are the other half of the dynamic duo.”

Her stomach turned at the thought of polite conversation. “I look a mess. I’m not sure tonight is the right time.”

Daniel wasn’t going to give in. “I hear excuses. I loved her too, Cara. You need to face people or you’ll hide back here forever.”

Cara stared at her reflection in the stainless steel fridge door. It was blurry but she could tell her hair was messed up and she looked red from cooking. Why did everyone think all cooks wanted to be chatty like Jamie Oliver? She didn’t have a cute lisp to make her more endearing. Entering the room, she went cold. All the blood drained from her face, when she heard what they were discussing.

“I find it amazing no one has a clue about who did it. If the person kills so horrendously, how can it be no one has ever seen bloodstained clothes at least?” The comment came from a man dressed casually in a blue polo shirt.

“I can assure you once you’re dealing with a killer of this nature, a quick slash and cut is not what it’s about. They’re meticulous in their planning. It’s like an art form to them, perfect in every way. The disposal of necessary items will have been planned in advance.”

Cara knew the speaker this time. It was Curtis Spencer, the solicitor who had hired them. His wife spoke next. She was perfect with manicured nails, glamorous hair and designer clothes.

“I used to feel safe in Bath. I’m not so sure I do anymore. I mean sometimes you think people have made bad choices. They might be walking down dark alleys or letting strangers into their home. From what I’ve heard she was last seen walking to her car with lots of people around. We frequently finish late. If Curtis wants to work on, I make my own way home. I really don’t want to have to change my life because of what happened.”

Curtis reached across and squeezed his wife’s hand and then glanced towards Seth.

Cara wanted to talk to Seth. Somehow, she knew he would understand what she was going through. She paused when she saw Curtis approach Seth. Goosebumps broke out on her skin as she listened.

“You make blades. Does it ever cross your mind they might be used for something unlawful?”

Seth’s jaw tightened as he pursed his lips. His stare became even more intense, if that was possible.

“I’ve made many blades. More than you can imagine. I cannot control what’s done with the knife or dagger once it leaves my possession.” Seth sipped his wine.

“I understand that it’s not the weapon. It’s the person using it that makes it evil. However, you can’t deny the weapons you create, although beautiful are created for killing or fencing. That’s the sport of playing at killing.” Curtis Spencer smiled, knowing he had everyone’s attention.

“A long time ago one of the blades I had worked on was used to kill someone close to me. Unless you have experienced the grief of losing someone like that, you shouldn’t ask the question.” Seth drained his glass. Then, he stared at everyone around the table as if daring them to make another comment.

Silence. Grabbing the bottle of Glayva from the buffet, Cara went up to Curtis. She coughed quietly at his shoulder and asked if he would like a refill.

“That would be lovely. I believe you are the mysterious Cara who’s been hiding from us all evening.” He picked up the glass she had just filled and took a large gulp.

“I thought it would be interesting for you to know the combination of herbs and whiskey in this drink.” Cara amazed herself as she spouted off. It wasn’t that she knew these things about the herbs, the whiskey and her culture.

It was more the fact she could discuss the ingredients after the guests had talked about Shona so dispassionately. She behaved like a robot. Only once did she catch Seth’s gaze. He smiled. It was the first time she had ever seen him smile. It gave her the courage to continue.

Looking at Daniel, his wink told her it was all right to leave. The clients were most likely relieved as well. She kept up the façade until she reached the kitchen, but she couldn’t stay inside anymore. It felt as if the walls were closing in on her.

She needed some air. No matter how deeply she tried to breathe, her chest fought against her. “I’m going out the back balcony to get some air.”