Haunting Whispers (8 page)

“Do you love her?” Yasi asked.

“Oh, yes.” She hugged Yasi and pulled her back onto the sofa. “Thank you so much. I needed something to love.” The statement was telling, but Yasi would’ve gotten it out of her eventually anyway.

“What’s going on?”

Before she could censor herself, Audrey blurted out the entire story of her assault. She’d held it in for days and it felt good to finally tell somebody the truth. “I haven’t told the police about the stun gun. I want to find the guy myself. What if it’s all somehow connected to—you know, that summer.”

Yasi’s face turned ashen. “This is all too déjà vu. That’s why you left without an explanation. When you finally contacted me again, I couldn’t believe it. Everybody thought you were busy with the new job. I was sure it was all connected. You hadn’t ever disappeared so completely, not even while you were away at school.”

Audrey’s college experience had been like four years of high school on steroids. Cliques and game playing trumped real friendship, and she couldn’t master either. The daily teasing aggravated like a persistent outbreak of zits. She was the mark of rich and poor, bright and dim-witted, freshman and seniors—an equal-opportunity target. The constant judgment and rejection contrasted starkly to the love and inclusiveness of her childhood and formative years. How could two segments of the same society be so diametrically opposed? After a while she retreated, coming out of her room only for meals and classes. She led a solitary existence—punishment for her unwillingness to face the truth?

“Sweetie, have you remembered anything else about last summer?” Yasi’s soft voice was tentative. She knew how much it hurt Audrey to talk or even think about that time.

Audrey shook her head. This was the part that made her seem loopy. She was chasing ghosts without knowing the dearly departed—no idea where to start or what to look for.

“You have to let it go, Aud. You’re not equipped to deal with things like this. Let the police handle it.”

“The police? Really? I can’t believe you’re giving me
that
advice. What would I tell them? I either don’t remember or I’m blocking everything.
I
have to do this. It’s changed my entire life. Besides, I can’t tell them what I am.”

“Don’t you mean
who
you are?” Yasi pulled her close and slid a hand up and down her arm in a soothing motion. Yasi knew Audrey’s fears, even when she denied them. “Did it ever occur to you that your gift might actually help this one time?”

Audrey pulled away from Yasi, annoyed with the topic and at how quickly it made her defensive. “My
gift?
You mean this unholy
curse
I’ve been saddled with all my life? This
thing
that possesses and drives me like a mind-altering disease? If there was any good in it, why didn’t I sense the attack? How could I miss
that
?”

“Oh, sweetie, don’t be so hard on yourself. Give it a chance.”

“I can’t, Yas. I’ve left all that behind. It’s not part of my life anymore. It can’t be.”

“Aud, I know it’s—”

“I love you, Yasi, but you
don’t
know. You have no idea what it’s like. The logical, thinking part of me questions everything while the intuitive part of me trusts only what I feel. And when I need it most, the damn thing misfires. It’s like being schizophrenic, but fully aware that you are. How can I possibly share that with someone, with
anyone
? It was bearable when I was young, with all of you. Not now. Most people can’t understand and wouldn’t accept it. Trust me, I have to do this by the rules of the real world—not woo-woo psychic universal law.”

Her pride wasn’t at stake as much as her decisions, her loyalty, and her past. She’d left everyone she loved a year ago because of a stranger and regretted it ever since. Initially fear kept her away. As time passed it became easier to stay away, more difficult to admit her mistake, and impossible to face failure. Her new path wouldn’t mesh easily with the one she’d left behind. Now she was afraid some diabolical force was drawing the two together.

Audrey rested her head on Yasi’s shoulder. “I’m so tired of running, Yas. So tired of fighting this battle alone. I know I chose it but I can’t seem to stop.”

“You were always so damn independent. We can’t do everything ourselves. At some point we all need help. Don’t you know anyone you can trust?”

After everything else she’d shared with Yasi, what was one more revelation? “There is one possibility. A detective named Rae Butler. She already thinks I’m withholding information. Perhaps I should trust her. She’s very…” How could she describe Rae and the feelings she tried to ignore?

“Wait a minute. Wasn’t she that instructor during your class—the one you liked but wouldn’t admit it?”

“Yes.” God, she hadn’t meant for that to come out. Audrey had forgotten she’d told Yasi about meeting Rae. Then it had been general conversation about someone she’d probably never have contact with again. “I mean, what the hell. Yes, and I still like her. She’s competent, reliable, trustworthy, and—”

“Sounds like you’re vetting her for a job. You’re attracted to her, aren’t you?” Leave it to Yasi to nail the situation with the fewest words. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Neither did she. And simply telling herself
not
to feel anything for Rae was like waving the proverbial red flag in front of an angry bull. Rae remained in her mind, consuming more space as they spent more time together. The feelings came whether she wanted them to or not.

Every time she encountered Rae it was more difficult to misdirect or to simply withhold, harder to keep the distance her life demanded. She
wanted
to tell Rae the truth, to enlist her professional assistance. What if she was like other cops Audrey had come across—intolerant, heartless, and callous? The picture didn’t fit Rae Butler.

Yasi went into the kitchen and put on a kettle for tea, leaving Audrey alone with her thoughts. She always knew exactly the right thing to do for her. It was like being of one mind with someone who truly knew you and loved you in spite of your faults. Would she ever experience that with a lover? A seductive picture of Rae sweaty and flushed, brushing unruly curls from her forehead, flashed through her mind. The image ignited a shiver of arousal.

“Here.” Yasi handed her a cup of chamomile tea. “Drink, then we’ll sleep and talk again in the morning. You look exhausted.”

“You mean you’re spending the night?”

“Try to get rid of me. I’ll need a T-shirt to sleep in.”

“Got you covered.”

Yasi laughed but Audrey was too distracted to get the joke. She was just glad to have the subject of Rae Butler at least temporarily tabled. As they drank their tea and prepared for bed, Yasi made small talk about their friends and work. They moved to the only bed in the apartment with no questions or awkwardness. She and Yasi had slept together many times without discomfort, and tonight would be no different.

She shivered as cold wind brushed across her face. Just a temperature response, but she looked around anyway—nothing except her excitement.

Turning toward the bar, she thought how strange that the sky had suddenly gone dark. Remnants of a shattered streetlight littered the path. That sweet smell. A stabbing pain pierced her. Liquid fire oozed down her spinal column and branched out into her body. Her muscles seized and she dropped to the ground like a stone.

“No more,” she begged. “No more.”

Rae woke at dawn and shuffled into her dart room/office by way of the coffee pot. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep and her marathon Whisperer case review. She examined the timeline and victim photos thumbtacked to the massive display board again as she twirled one of her favorite darts between her fingers.

She’d taken up the sport as a teenager to avoid her family’s constant nagging about her first girlfriend. Janet hated darts so Rae kept the set packed away to avoid an argument. She enjoyed having some personal space back, though she was occasionally lonely. As she perused the crime board, the sleek, perfectly balanced dart teetered on the tip of her finger, reminding her of the precariousness of life.

Four attractive women assaulted in similar fashion. She absently rolled the streamlined Viper dart shaft and sipped her coffee. Her extensive background checks indicated the four women had nothing in common. Though they were striking in appearance, she couldn’t find enough similarities between them to establish a victim type for the offender.

What was she missing? Rae positioned her right foot and angled about seventy-five degrees to the dartboard. She visually lined up the target, stroked the dart flight between her fingers for luck, and accelerated through the throw in one fluid motion. Only her arm moved, shoulder and body still and grounded for the perfect shot. The follow-through ended with her hand aiming at the center of the target.

The dart spiraled beautifully toward the bristle board, struck a spider that separated the segments, and bounced to the floor. She often bargained with herself before release that if she made the shot she’d uncover one clue in her current case. Her delivery proved much more reliable than the crime-solving gods. Frustrated with her game and the lack of significant leads, Rae headed for the shower.

She was dressed and on her way out the door when her cell phone rang. “Butler.”

“How soon can you get here?”

“Sarge?”

“Of course it’s me. I need to see you ASAP. And yes, I know it’s Sunday.”

As Rae drove to the station, she wondered what kettle of fish had boiled over and ruined Sergeant Sharp’s suit. Not So didn’t ruffle unless he sensed danger to his perfectly coiffed career. A few minutes later she found out the reason.

Sharp paced behind his desk in a pair of khaki slacks and golf shirt. Was his sour expression because his game had been interrupted or because of the news he was about to deliver? Either way she wouldn’t be a winner. “It’s that Everhart woman.”

“Excuse me? You took me off that case two days ago.”

Not So waved a computer printout in the air then shoved it toward her on the desk. “See that?” He pointed to the pages, crumpled around the edges from his vigorous fanning. The data was the same information Audrey had gotten from crime analysis, with one entry circled.

She waited for the point. It wasn’t her case any more and the sergeant seemed more agitated than a simple assault would warrant. “Am I missing something?”

“The suspect in this case,” he stabbed the paper with his index finger, “Jeremy Sutton, was murdered yesterday. Homicide is on it. And guess who paid the guy a visit?”

“Aud—Ms. Everhart?” Not So nodded. “How do we know she went to see him?”

“Homicide dicks scanned the computer database for the last person who ran a check on this guy—Loretta Granger in records. She flipped like a cheap whore and gave up your girl. You’re wasting time, Butler.”

“Just because she ran a check on him doesn’t mean she went to his house or killed him.”

Sharp looked at her like she was as thick as a layer of bricks. “What do you want, an engraved confession? They found her fingerprints on a bottle of Pellegrino—get a move on. We’re not here to try the case.”

“And I get this honor because—”

“You already have
rapport
with her.” Sharp emphasized the word as though it held some unpleasant meaning, not like a concept he utilized every day in his ladder-climbing career.

Rae laughed. If what she and Audrey Everhart had was rapport this would be a very unproductive trip. “Any idea of the connection between the two of them?” Rae had a feeling she already knew, but wondered how much Sharp had pieced together.

“That’s what I want you to find out before the homicide boys rain a shit storm down on her. Mayor Downing called me personally and asked that I intercede.”

Did Not So seriously think they could “intercede” in a murder investigation? If Audrey had visited this suspect alone, she was more independent than Rae thought…and more unpredictable. Was there a connection between Sutton and her attack?
Audrey, what are you hiding and why won’t you let me help?
Rae could only pray this was a huge misunderstanding.

“Talk to the woman, find out her side of the story, and get back to me ASAP. The mayor wants to be ahead of the game if there’s bad publicity.”

That made sense. The mayor certainly looked out for his political ass. If Audrey was implicated in a homicide investigation, he could fire her for some flimsy reason and ask questions later. Political fallout was like a foul odor, permeating and contaminating everything it touched. She didn’t want to see Audrey dragged to the cleaners…if she wasn’t involved.

“Right, I’m on it.” On the way out of the building, she tried to call Audrey but got no answer on her cell. She played out the worst-case scenario and tried to imagine Audrey killing someone. The picture wouldn’t materialize. Violence didn’t fit her image of Audrey.

Rae pulled into the parking lot and approached the apartment. She’d straighten this out quickly and get back to her active case. As she listened at the door, she was pleased to have a legitimate reason to see Audrey Everhart again. She stepped to the side and knocked.

After several attempts, Audrey answered. “What are you doing here? It’s Sunday.” Her blond hair stood out from her head in wispy sprigs and the lids over her cerulean eyes were at half-mast. She looked like a sleepy kid on the first morning of school. “Don’t you believe in calling?”