Eyes to the Soul (40 page)

She gave him a tremulous smile. “One day, he came to me in ghost form. He was the first ghost I knowingly recognized. I was delirious with joy and yet horrified for him. For me. I wanted him back in my life, but never as a ghost. I couldn’t send him to the light for the longest time, then finally I realized he was stuck here on Earth because of me. And I couldn’t have that. I loved him so much I had to let him go. So I sent him away. It wasn’t my finest hour, as he didn’t take it very well, but I finally had to tell him to never come back.”

Even the memory hurt. She bowed her head and sniffled back the tears. “God, I regretted that the minute he was gone, but I couldn’t call him back. It was for his own good.”

“I wonder about all the ills in the world committed because it was for someone else’s own good,” Stefan said, his voice pensive, deep.

She barely heard him. Then he said, “And your parents?”

“They were travelling in Mexico and were involved in a horrific vehicle accident. It was bad. There were no bodies to bring home. It made it easier and so much more difficult.” She sighed. “My aunt went down to deal with the official stuff. I couldn’t. There was no way I wanted anything to do with that country. I can’t ever see wanting to go there.”

“Interesting.”

“What, my reaction? Their death, or that there were no bodies to recover?”

“All of it.” His voice was so noncommittal she was immediately suspicious. “And your fiancé? What happened there?”

“He died from an aneurysm in his brain. I lost him so fast.” She tilted her face, wishing the sun was still out. But along with the conversation the weather had chilled. “There was no preparation. He was here one day and then gone.”

She swallowed the tears back and said, “Anything else you need to know?”

“How was your relationship with him up to the end?”

“Outside of the fight that night, mostly wonderful. We both fell so hard that we were locked up in our own world. Probably too much, as I said before.” She winced. “Looking back, it was definitely too much. He was possessive. Then again, so was Caslo. I’d promised Caslo that I’d always be there for him before he left, but obviously that was a lie,” she said bitterly. “And I promised Peter I’d never leave him. He’d said the same – many times. He was really big on promises.” She closed her eyes in pain at the broken memories. “If you made a promise, then it was forever, he said.” She turned slightly to face him. “Another promise I couldn’t keep.”

“He died,” Stefan said quietly. “That’s not your fault.”

She shrugged. “It felt like it was. God, you should have seen us. We did everything together, even dressed the same half the time. It was really stupid.”

“How is that stupid? You loved him.”

She winced. “And I guess that’s where I slid. I wondered if I did love him. I wondered if I gave all my love to Caslo and then had nothing left for anyone else.”

He stroked her back. “Love doesn’t work that way.”

“No. By the time Peter came into my life I was desperate to not be alone anymore. I wanted someone in my life who cared. I was just as possessive as he was because I
needed
someone to love me. I was so tired of being alone. And so afraid of being alone forever. He felt like my only choice, my last chance to have someone love me.” Her voice broke, and damn if those tears didn’t start to fall again.

She wiped them away, furious at herself for letting all that out. “God, I’m pathetic.”

“No.” He tugged her into his arms. “You aren’t. I understand loneliness. Most of us do.”

“Then why do I feel so guilty? I did everything I could afterwards to lock myself in and away. People like Jacob wouldn’t let me stay locked away. But I was always afraid he’d die too, just like everyone else that got close to me. And look what happened to him!” Her voice rose and broke at the end.

“Shh,” he said against her hair. “He’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“No,” she whispered. “It’s never going to be okay again.”

*

Stefan struggled with
the information he was getting and the information he was intuiting. He didn’t know how much to ask her because he didn’t know how much she could handle. There were several major truths ahead of her. All at once was too much. So which were the easiest or most important right now?

Taking a deep breath, he asked the one question that had to be asked. “What happened to your fiancé’s remains?”

She stiffened. Then stepped back. Her voice cold she said, “I was the one in charge of that. As he was brain dead at the hospital I donated his body. Once the decision was made and I knew that’s what he’d wanted, I signed the forms for the doctors to recover what they could.”

Her eyes were glassy but defiant.

“What kinds of body parts were donated?” He deliberately kept his voice mild, curious. She didn’t have to know everything all at once. “Do you know?”

She waved her hands around. “Some. I was thrilled to know they could use as much as they did. Heart, kidneys, lungs, veins, even skin.” She beamed. “It helped a lot to know that even in death Peter had gone on to give so much to other people.”

Stefan nodded, then remembering she couldn’t see he said, “Good. I’ve heard that from other donor families, that it brought them much satisfaction in helping others in need.” He turned her to the kitchen. “Now, how about some lunch?”

He mentally contacted both Brandt and Dr. Maddy at the same time and passed on the information.
We need to see if any or all of these victims received donor organs and if they came from Peter, her fiancé.

The dual shocked responses were immediate.

Dr. Maddy said,
That would make a horrific sense.

Brandt said,
I’m on it. I’d just gone down that road myself. It might not have been her fiancé though
 –
it’s quite likely that all the organs came from the same body. God, it really makes you rethink that whole process.

Stefan sat Celina down on the island stool. “How about a big salad?”

As if the conversation had been processing through her mind and she had an inkling of what was to come she said, “Anything that’s not from a dead animal.”

*

Brandt moved to
the computer and started clicking the keys, bringing up the information, or as much of it as he could get a hold of. He hadn’t printed off a file for himself as he had for Stefan, preferring to work electronically. But right now he wished he had. He shifted closer to his chart and slowly pulled the bits and pieces from the files. When he came to the trucker who’d had the heart attack while driving the fuel truck, Brandt noted he’d had bypass surgery many months before his final action.

That could be one. The old woman with the burning legs could have had veins donated to repair hers. But he was guessing. Getting ahead of himself.

He checked the girl and her burning back, already knowing she’d had skin grafts, but when was that and was there a way to track from whom? Not in this file. Not deterred, he carried on until one by one he’d found what he needed. Two of the cases he had little to no information on their physical health and more digging would be required. For most, they’d been through a traumatic injury or health crisis and had indeed received donor organs. At least the big organs. He had no ideas how many body parts could be used to help others. Like the skin stuff. He had a lot to learn. He picked up the phone and called the local hospital to see how the process worked.

That led him to the donor center. And more questions and more phone calls and more questions.

He sat after the last call and wondered. Could it be?

Really?

Stefan mentally answered.
I’m very much afraid it is
.

Holy shit.

*

He shuddered. Nothing
felt right. Or good. Something was wrong. He didn’t know how to fix it. His energy was failing rapidly. The time to do something was now. In fact, the time was past. He had to make a decision. Doing this took too much energy. He needed a big surge to center in just one place. But he had to make sure he ended up at the right place. That was the trick. He had to cut off everything but the one he wanted. And he had to do it fast.

An idea formed in the back of his mind. Was there a way to take that huge mess of little parts and pieces and finish them for good? Most were collected at one place – at least from what he could sense.

Focusing was getting harder. He was so out of time. If only he could find the answer for one last push.

Had someone interfered in his process? He wasn’t sure what else it could be. He wasn’t doing a great job lately – he’d thought the last one should have been a shoo-in, but there appeared to be a tiny little bit of him left there. As if the job had only been partially completed.

That shouldn’t have been possible. The aftermath should have finished the rest.

And somehow it hadn’t.

That couldn’t be allowed, but someone had stopped the burn. He could sense that bit of himself still there but it was fading quickly. Something had happened. Some
one
had happened.

He needed to cut out one of the biggest drains now. He’d held off, thinking the kid might be an alternate landing spot. But it wasn’t to be.

And now he needed to fix that one and fast.

He had to have all the power he could find for that final blow.

*

Eric sat up
in bed and waited for the lady to put his food in front of him. He sniffed the air experimentally and brightened. Burgers? He was starving. There was something that looked like a pudding. His stomach settled lower and some of his appetite waned.

His mother stood up from where she’d been sitting at his side. In an overly bright voice, she said, “Lunchtime. Open it, it smells great.”

“It smells terrible,” he muttered. He took the lid off and a half grin popped back up again. It was a burger. Just a little dull, flat, burger – but it was a burger. And fries. Now he smiled. Lifting one, he happily bit off the other end. “Hey, it’s pretty good.”

“Great. So maybe you’ll eat today?” she asked hopefully.