Atlantic Bridge/Liquid Silver Books www.liquidsilverbooks.com Copyright ©2003 Leigh Wyndfield First Published by Liquid Silver Books, July, 2003 NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment. Published by Liquid Silver Books, Imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 6280 Crittenden Ave, Indianapolis, Indiana. Copyright 2003, Leigh Wyndfield. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the authors. This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental. Chapter One
October, Richmond, VA Susan Rivers sat outside Jake Matherly's apartment with a three-pack of condoms trying to catch her breath and steel her nerves. She couldn't believe she'd turned her car around at a stop light and come to Jake's, stopping on the way to purchase protection. She must be losing her mind. Just get out of the car and go. Now. This is the 21st century and women do things like this all the time. The clock showed that her personal pep talk had now lasted five minutes. This is ridiculous—either do it or go home. Susan jammed the condoms in her jacket pocket, opened the car door and hurried up the walk, knocking before she could chicken out. Jake opened his door and stared down at her without speaking. Long enough for her to have a flash of worry that maybe he wasn't alone. Susan groaned silently. She hadn't even considered that he might have company. She closed her eyes and mentally built her shields, which were slipping under the stress, back up. They would need to be strong to survive the hailstorm of sensation she would put them through in the next hours. Of course, she would only need the reinforcement if she were lucky enough to get his enthusiastic participation. That suddenly didn't look like a given. After a few seconds passed, he said, “Susan,” and leaned against the doorframe, his big body humming with energy even though the pose was relaxed. He was speaking, at least, but he hadn't invited her in. Good sign? Bad sign? Damn, this isn't one of my better ideas. Of course, most of her spontaneous moments hadn't turned out to be good ideas in the end, which was why she tended to go the safe and conservative route whenever possible. But it was too late to turn back now.
“May I come in?” she asked formally. Her brain scrambled for an alternative reason for her presence. She wasn't sure the ‘Can I borrow a cup of sugar?’ excuse would work with him. He looked at her for another heartbeat, his brown eyes amber in the direct light of the setting sun, then stepped back, moving his arm in an overstated welcoming gesture. Susan moved past him, walking down the hall into his kitchen on rubber legs. “You're amazing,” she heard herself babble. “This is as clean as it was the last time I was here.” She looked at the bowl and spoon on the draining board and knew he had washed up after breakfast. I bet he makes his bed every morning, too. “Glad to know it hasn't changed in the last eleven months since you graced me with your presence,” he said, with a slight sneer that had her turning towards him. Was he angry with her? Susan's desire to walk right back out the door became unbearable, but she beat it back. She was here. Almost a year of desire had built up to the breaking point and she had had enough. Now was the time for action. “Was it eleven months ago? It feels like it was longer.” She wandered over to lean against the cabinets behind the center island, putting herself away from the door, away from the easy way out. “What do you want, Susan?” His tone was mild for the harshness of the words, his body relaxed against the wall beside the kitchen doorway. Her mind locked in on the way he held himself, the flow of the muscles in his arms, the broadness of his chest that turned into the flatness of his stomach under his T-shirt. She wanted to run her tongue along it all. Susan blinked and forced herself to concentrate. She stood there debating her next move, ignoring the urge to look him over again. No time to come up with a plan now. She should have done that in the car before she came in. She hadn't realized turning him down for a date would irritate him this much. To be fair, she had turned him down three times. But the last time was his fault—scaring her into a near heart attack in the produce isle of the grocery store was not a way to get a date. At this point, direct was her only option. She fortified herself with the thought that he was too nice a guy to tell anyone if he rejected her. At least she hoped he was. And he was doing quite a bit of lounging right now. Too much for the snippy tone of voice he was using with her. Which made her think his relaxed pose was just that—a pose. She walked around the island and stopped in front of him. “I thought I would come here to see if I could do something about this,” she said, lifting her hands to touch his bare arms below his T-shirt. As it had all three times they had touched before, electricity arced between them, making him jump. Susan stayed still, having anticipated it, lightly running her hands down to circle his wrists. “Damn,” he breathed, the word wrenched from his throat. He swallowed, staring down at her. She was glad he didn't deny the physical reaction they had to one another. Then again, it would have been impossible to deny it. His lips descended onto hers, his kiss demanding, his arms hanging by his sides with her hands still around his wrists. Her stomach somersaulted when his tongue touched hers. Heat shot through her body, pooling low. Leaning back, she broke the kiss, and released her hands. She took a giant step back. “Why are you so angry?"
“What in hell are you up to, Susan?” His voice conveyed both his desire and his suspicion. He stepped forward aggressively to fill the space she had vacated, forcing her to step back again. They repeated the sequence until her back touched the island. The feel of the counter snapped her out of her daze and a flash of anger went through her, echoing his. Jamming a finger in his chest, she gritted out, “I'm here to get you into bed, Jake Matherly. It's a straight forward proposition." He looked at her, incredulous, ignoring the finger poking at him. “Just like that. Out of the blue, you want to sleep with me? After eleven months, you magically show up at my apartment on a Sunday, without even a phone call first, after turning me down for multiple dates? You expect me to believe you want sex?” His chest rubbed against her now-flattened hand in a small caress, his body showing her it didn't care about his mind's questions. “It takes me awhile to make up my mind." He barked out what she thought was a laugh. Her annoyance level increased with each of his questions and with his attitude in general. He was a guy, damn it. Why was he still talking? He should be happy to have her here propositioning him. She knew he had wanted her since they met in this kitchen eleven months ago at his party, when his arm had brushed hers at the sink, the electricity nearly dropping them both to their knees. Desire like that didn't go away. “At first I thought you were turning me down because of John,” he said, bringing her back to the moment, “but you haven't been with him for six months. Your thought process must run slow if you take half a year to come to a decision." His sarcasm ate at her. The fact that he had a point was something she chose to ignore. “I don't go on dates when I'm with someone else and I tend to think long and hard before I get into a relationship with anyone at all.” Susan kept reminding herself that if she irritated him too much, she wouldn't get what they both wanted. Keep calm and stay focused on the goal. “Oh ... like you were really dating John anyway." Susan's mind went on red alert. “And what is that supposed to mean?" “Come on, you didn't even sleep with him. And now you expect me to buy that you want to sleep with me?" “How do you know I never slept with John?” Susan put her hands on her hips in frustration. “My God, you men are worse than gossiping old women!" Jake shrugged, not giving her an inch. “I overheard him at a bar one night telling a table full of guys. He said it was the reason he broke things off with you." Susan was too angry to notice his interest in her answer. “How dare he! That ... that weasel!" Jake grabbed her arm as she started to storm by. He gave it a small shake, causing her attention to snap back to him. “Why? Why me and not him?" She was so distracted by the slimy, gossiping antics of the male species that she answered him more truthfully than she would have otherwise. “I went out with John because he didn't interest me.” She
waved her free hand in dismissal. “You what? You dated him because he didn't interest you? Are you saying I don't interest you, Susan?” He was shaking his head in astonishment, obviously not following her logic but the anger seemed to be gone. That was a step in the right direction. Right? “Actually, you do. Interest me, I mean. Which means no relationship for us, I'm afraid. This is just a...” She circled her hand while she thought, “...thing.” She forced herself to make eye contact with him, to make sure he understood the rules up front. Jake looked angry again, one of his hands skimming through his hair, while the other tightened its hold on her arm. Damn, one step forward, two steps back. “So you only want my body? Is that it?” He loomed above her. “Am I supposed to be flattered?" She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes, you should be. I thought this was every guy's dream.” She overrode him when he started to speak. “Jake, I don't want a serious relationship with anyone. I can't have one. I won't. Oh hell, forget it.” She brought her arm down in a twisting motion that her self-defense classes guaranteed would break his hold. Her hand came free, but more because he let her go than because of her action. Susan had tried to convince him, but she wasn't going to explain herself any more than she already had. She might want him more than she had ever wanted any other man in her lifetime, but she wasn't telling him secrets she'd kept for 15 years to get him. She made it two steps toward the door before his hand grabbed her arm again, swinging her back against the island. “Every bone in my body says I'm making a huge mistake here, but I'm not letting you walk out after coming this close to having you." For a heartbeat, she wondered why he had changed his mind, but then his lips were on hers and the thought was forgotten. When he came up for air, he lowered his head to slide his mouth along her neck. Touching his lips to her ear, Jake whispered, “We'll talk about the rest later." She whispered back, “No, we won't,” and put her lips to his to ensure she got the last word. Her mind went blank, her every thought focused on what her body felt. His mouth slanted across hers, his hands participating for the first time, peeling her jacket back from her shoulders. She caught it before it slid free, breaking away from his mouth to rescue the box of condoms from the pocket. “Serious about this, aren't you?” he asked, his brown eyes glazed with passion. There was something about his voice, a combination of amusement and something else she didn't recognize. Possibly possessiveness, but she could have misinterpreted it. “Yes,” she said, setting the box on the countertop before unbuttoning the top of her blouse. “I have thought about this for months, Jake. I am very serious.” She opened the edges of her shirt, emboldened by the look on his face, the desire that welled up like a cloud around him. “I have thought about touching you until I couldn't drive by your apartment complex without turning around. Until I had to knock on your door and take a chance." She stepped away from him slightly to drop her shirt to the ground. Jake backed up to the island, his sweatpants not hiding his erection from her. God, even in sweatpants and a T-shirt, he looks so damn
good. “I want you,” she said, letting her bra follow to the floor. She lifted his T-shirt and he finished the motion, shrugging it off with a play of tightened muscles. Susan splayed her hands across his flat stomach and then leaned her chest to his, feeling the electricity jump between them with a punch. They both stopped, held still by so much naked flesh making contact, the feeling exponentially more intense than when just their hands touched. She breathed in his scent. Something like vanilla and spice and pure male filled her nostrils. God, he even smelled amazing. She wasn't surprised about the intensity. She had thought about this every day, dreamed about this every night, since she saw him two weeks ago in the grocery store. Since he had walked up behind her and hugged her, burning them both through their clothes. She had been angry at the time. How dare he touch her when he knew how hard she was fighting this attraction between them? But she realized he hadn't known how hard she was fighting it and if he had, he probably wouldn't understand. Normal people acted on these kinds of feelings. Their lips met again, her breasts gliding against his muscled chest, his hair teasing her nipples into tight peaks. “It's too much, too much,” he murmured to her, letting her know he felt it, too. His hands went to her jeans, unbuttoning them. Hers slipped into the top of his sweatpants, stroking his buttocks, making him suck in a quick breath of air. She experienced a small warning from the voice of responsible behavior in her head. It said doing this was a large mistake—that she might be in over her head. But the warning was swept away with her jeans as he pulled them down to the floor, his body going into a crouch. He pressed a kiss onto her hipbone and then bit her lightly, scraping teeth in a slow motion that made her gasp. She balanced by holding onto his shoulders as he took off her shoes, then her pants and underwear. She looked down at his broad back that tapered into gray sweatpants. Muscles rippled in his arms as he pulled off her clothing. Her stomach trembled with need. Overwhelmed with the desire to run her hands along his body, she ground her teeth to keep herself still. Jake stood up, moving against her. She caught his sweatpants and pulled them down. He balanced with one hand on the counter as socks and sweatpants were dispatched. When he was free, he crushed her into the island, kissing her face, neck, collarbone before capturing one nipple in his mouth. They were going quickly now, her hands making circles on his back and buttocks, sliding around to touch his erection. He bit lightly on her nipple in retaliation and she caressed the length of his shaft with her fingertips. Her mind registered the fact that he was so hard, that he was so much bigger than either of the men she had slept with before. She felt a flood of wetness in response—wetness that increased as his fingers caressed the mound between her legs. “Jesus, you're ready,” he whispered into her mouth, turning her to face the island. She caught up the box of condoms, ripping the package frantically. His hand reached over to take the condom she held and then he was touching her in long sweeping motions, pressing his hard shaft against her back, biting her shoulder. He bent her over the island, widening her legs with his own. Both hands held her hips as he tipped her to meet him, and in one long, slow movement, he entered her. She gasped when his head hit the top of her sheath. Jake stayed still, and she instinctively knew he was battling the urge to come. He placed his hand over
her mound and slipped a finger inside to rest on her pleasure spot, keeping pressure there. She moved against his finger, moaning. He joined her, rocking, trying to find a pace for them. Susan felt the tension in her body build to a pleasure height she never knew was possible, then she came, milking the length of him, taking him with her over the edge. His body dropped onto hers, trembling with his own release, folding them both forward onto the island. Susan would have fallen if he hadn't trapped her against the counter. Her brain came back from wherever it had gone. Holy smokes! She had thought sex would be good with Jake, but not this mind-blowing. Jake moved behind her, grabbing one of the two remaining condoms. He slid out and she heard him changing into the next one. “Jake?” Her voice quivered. Surely he wasn't planning to go again? Didn't guys require a 30-minute recoup time? But he obviously didn't, because he entered her, as hard as if he hadn't come minutes before. Susan felt desire sweep through her, returning a heartbeat away from climax. Jake's legs were still between hers, holding her still as he bent her body off the countertop. “Rest your head against my shoulder,” he growled at her, his voice low and needy. Susan dropped her head back, bowing her body into a nearly painful curve. Jake brought her arms up to hold onto his neck. “Stay absolutely still. I'll take care of your pleasure,” he whispered. He slid his fingers down her body, parting her, then his fingertips pinched her clitoris rhythmically. Susan moaned. He moved inside her, a couple of inches out then a couple of inches in. The small movements were torture. “Jake, please. More. Please." “Almost there, Susan, we're almost there.” He held her body while it shook in fine tremors. “Keep holding onto me.” As he said the last word, she reached her climax, screaming his name. He tumbled after her, bending over her body to rest again on the island in front of them. “Oh my God, Jake, oh my God.” Susan tried to breathe normally but couldn't seem to draw enough air into her lungs. Jake turned her around and lifted her to the countertop, putting his body between her legs and holding her close in an embrace she found both protective and sweet after the hot, hard sex they had shared. They stayed still for five minutes before he leaned back. His brown-eyed gaze, turned golden from pleasure, held hers for the space of several heartbeats then he kissed her softly. Her body shivered as his hands touched her sensitive breasts, still swollen with desire, while his mouth captured hers. The kisses were long and slow and beautiful, heating them both up to another boiling point. She felt him grow hard again against her leg. “How do you feel?” he murmured into her nipple, making it pucker as his breath tickled across. His tongue reached out to rasp across it, causing her to gasp. She knew he was asking if she could go another round and wondered vaguely if she had been misinformed about men's sexual limits. “I'm better than fine,” she whispered to him, excitement building inside her. He reached for the last condom in the box without lifting his head from her breast. He handed it to her and she ripped the package open, flailing a bit, her hands not working quite right. She stared at it, wondering which was the right side, long enough for Jake to raise his head to look at her. “I think there's a trick to this,” she told him conspiratorially. He let loose a small laugh and took it from her with a grin. Showing her the right side, he deftly unrolled it down the length of his shaft as she looked on in fascination. “I'll be damned,” she mused, “that didn't look too hard.” She touched the length of him, then reached below to run her hands over his testicles with a
light touch. Jake moaned, dropping his head to her shoulder. “Your hands have electricity in them. You're driving me insane.” He pulled her to the edge of the countertop and dropped on one knee to taste her. She leaned back on her elbows, her head lowering to hang off the other side of the island. His tongue caressed her clitoris, slowly moving back and forth as if he could lick her all day long. A finger played at the opening of her passage before slipping inside. When she was balanced on the edge of another climax, he stood up and pushed inside her, wrenching a moan from deep within her body. Susan sat up to grab his shoulders, clinging to him as they found a rhythm together. Her tongue licked his chest and she couldn't seem to stop herself from biting him hard enough to leave marks. Her gaze met Jake's and held it for a long moment. This time around, things had changed. It didn't feel like sex but more like lovemaking. She pushed the thought away and concentrated on the feel of his body. They were doing a set of slow, graceful movements, and she felt her climax build, until finally she went over the peak, her body shivering with her release. He followed seconds later, just as the last of her own tremors subsided. Suddenly, his legs seemed to give out and Jake held on to her for balance. Susan didn't realize what was happening, and they both hit the floor, with Jake's shoulder and her hip taking the brunt of the fall. She started laughing at the same time tears came to her eyes. The fall had hurt, but the whole scene was so ridiculous, she was overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. “Are you okay?” His concern obvious, his face serious. “Yes ... no ... my body is numb anyway.” She sobered and was surprised when he reached his free hand to wipe tears away from her cheeks. He kissed the end of her nose and snuggled her close, easing most of her body onto his and off the cold tile floor. With such a complete feeling of contentment and joy washing over her, Susan didn't even feel her shields drop. She had no warning at all that she was about to See, the vision washing over her without any notice. And then she was trapped, watching a piece of Jake's life unfold before her. The woman stood over the man on the floor, her body jerking convulsively. At first the boy thought that the man had fallen down, that everything was fine. Just an accident. But then the woman turned toward him, and he saw all the blood splattered across her face and he had to hold back a scream. Her face was so contorted with rage, he almost didn't recognize her. “Mother?” he said, reaching out a hand. "Get out of here Jake,” she screamed. “Get out of this room!” She moved to block his father's body, her housedress covered in blood and bits of something else, something thick and gray, the gun still in her right hand. “I told you to get the hell out of here!” Her voice wasn't even the same as his mother's. Who was this person? What was happening? The boy stood there, his whole world tumbling down around him. “Susan?” Jake's concerned voice brought her back to the present. Susan looked at him, blinking to change her focus, her body rigid. She knew the vision had only taken seconds. She tried to get herself back together, but still ended up whispering, “My God, how could you have survived it?” The comment slipped out before she could control herself. Damn it all to hell. She knew she shouldn't have slept with him. He was too amazing for her not to want
to drop her shields and feel him completely. Living behind shields made everyone she came in contact with seem less than they were because of the barrier she put between them. The desire to drop her shields from the first moment she'd met him was why she had stayed away from him for so long. Susan twisted out of the warmth of his arms, trying to find her clothes on the floor. When she couldn't locate her underwear, she dragged on her jeans. Make an excuse, any excuse and get out of here. “I've got to go. I need to get my laundry done tonight and it's already late.” She had to get out, now, before she had another vision. Having one often led to a whole string of others. “What's wrong?” He sounded concerned, but she didn't stop gathering her clothes. He pushed himself to his feet, his expression one of disbelief. She didn't make eye contact, throwing on her bra, clipping it between her breasts even though she could feel the straps all twisted in the back. She grabbed her blouse and shrugged into it. He reached for her and she sprang back into the island, “Don't touch me, Jake. Please.” She heard the desperation in her voice. She reached down and caught up her shoes. Not bothering to stop and put them on, she was out the door within seconds, slamming it behind her, not seeing the naked man slide down the cabinets to sit in a confused heap on the floor. Chapter Two
Susan called herself every kind of fool on the way home. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Had she done it on purpose? Is that why she had shown up at his doorstep on an impulse? So she could have him without thinking of the consequences? But now she had stolen a memory from him. One in which his mother had killed his father. “Things you See aren't always what they appear to be. Your brain makes assumptions to fill in the blanks,” she muttered. She heard her mother's voice in her head as clearly as if she were sitting beside her in the car right now. “You stole my secrets. Took them like the little thief you are. Don't ever touch me again! Never. Again.” This had happened after her mother found out she had talked to her grandmother about what she Saw. She had told Gran her mother's secrets not once, but twice. That had turned out to be one time too many. Her mother had been true to her word. Susan hadn't felt her mother's touch for 15 years. When they were together, her mother kept a careful length of space between them, constantly rearranging herself to be out of Susan's reach. Her mother knew touching was the catalyst. Without touching, a True Seeing was rare. Susan never told her mother she still had visions without physical contact. God, her mother would have dropped her off at an orphanage had she known. She pulled into her parking place at her apartment building and remembered she had left her underwear. “Oh no!” She banged her head on the steering wheel. “I left my panties!” She tried to remember which ones she had been wearing. “You practically force him to have sex, then you steal a memory, then you run out without an explanation and leave your underwear. You may have just won the Idiot of the Month Award.” She slipped on her shoes and got out of the car, slamming her door extra hard as an exclamation point to her mood. Susan walked up to her building, feeling the lack of panties with every step. Groaning, she climbed the stairs to the second floor, thinking about kicking her own ass. At the top of the stairs, a man appeared, jumping out at her, causing her to scream for a good five
seconds before she figured out who it was and got herself back together. “Suzy-baby,” Robb Connors said with feigned concern, lust dripping from every syllable. He didn't seem surprised she was there, which meant he had been waiting for her again. “I've been looking all my life for a woman like you." For a complete jerk, he was surprisingly good-looking. Susan's eyes swept over the casual, but expensive clothes and the stylish black hair crunched up in the front with just the right amount of gel. He looked great, but his personality spoiled his looks. “Hello, Robb.” Susan put down her head and marched past Robb—with two B's baby—to her apartment door. She was not dealing with him without wearing underwear. Period. She walked into her apartment and turned around to face him, bracing her foot against the bottom of the door as a precaution. He'd once managed to get in and she'd had a hard time getting him back out. Since that incident, she had been careful not to let him past her doormat. “Suzy-baby, I've got tickets to see the Dave Matthews Band next week and I've been saving them so I can take you.” Robb reached out to touch her cheek and Susan drew back sharply, half shielding her face behind her door. How much worse could this night get? “Goodbye, Robb,” she said, shutting the door in his face, sending the bolt on her lock home with a feeling of satisfaction. Southern upbringing be damned—she was done being nice to him. “Suzy-baby, I'll call you later to tell you what time I'll pick you up!” he shouted. It still amazed Susan that he could take what amounted to more than a hundred no's from her and continue asking her out. He couldn't comprehend that she had no interest in him. Or else he thought he'd wear her down eventually. What a complete bummer he lived four apartments over. That meant he would probably ask her out another hundred times. Lately he'd gotten more aggressive, popping out as he had tonight and he had added the touching bit to his bag of tricks. The last thing she wanted was an accidental memory transfer from Robb. Casual touching in any form was out of the question for her as a general rule. She didn't want to think about what terrible things had happened to form Robb's personality. Turning the lights on in her apartment, Susan shook off all thoughts of Robb Connors with the ease of long practice. She walked to her bedroom, changing into a sweat suit and running shoes. She ran a brush through her tasseled strawberry blond hair, glad that short hair didn't look as bad as long after a man ran his fingers through it. Susan leaned against her dresser for a few moments. She couldn't believe she'd gone to Jake's tonight. It seemed like some strange fantasy she'd daydreamed. She forced herself to straighten and walked to her closet to grab her laundry. Don't think about any of it. Especially not the fact you left your underwear. Ignore it. It never happened. You did not leave your underwear at Jake Matherly's apartment. Oh God, what if he shows them to his friends, like that guy did in “Sixteen Candles"? Susan felt nauseous at the thought of the whole police station paying a dollar a peek. He won't do that, Susan. If you think he won't tell anyone about sleeping with you, why do you think he'd let his friends see your underwear? You're not using your head here. “If he does, I'll sue
him!” She spent the next couple of seconds trying to think about any case law that would apply. She wasn't familiar with any offhand, but she would find it in the library at her law office if she had to. The thought comforted her. Picking up the laundry basket, she locked her door and prepared to go down to the spooky dungeon of a basement where the washers and dryers resided. She deserved to be doing laundry at ... she checked her watch, nine o'clock Sunday night. It was her penance for everything she'd done from the time she rang Jake Matherly's doorbell. She walked down the stairs to the ground level, then to the basement. Pausing on the top steps, she had a moment of triumph. “The yellow pair!” She hopped down the rest of the steps in jubilation. “Not a bad pair to leave, if I had to leave them in the first place!" She was so happy, so completely focused on the fact that she was saved from utter humiliation, so caught up in a review of all the worse pairs she could have left, that she didn't feel anything out of place when she entered the laundry room. “Ellie,” she said, seeing her next-door neighbor standing just inside the door. It took her a second to comprehend that her neighbor's laundry lay spilled on the floor. “Ellie?” Susan reached to touch her, but stopped before making contact. Her neighbor was acting weird. She waved her hand in front of her face instead. Ellie gasped for breath, looking at something on the other side of the folding table. “What is it?” Susan asked. “Susan ... oh my God, Susan,” Ellie panted and pointed to something Susan couldn't see. Moving forward into the room, Susan saw a man lying in a pool of blood. The vision swamped her. He finished loading the washer in the corner of the room. He was thinking that doing laundry was so boring—maybe he should go ahead and pay for a new washer so he could watch TV between loads. He turned to see another man come in, a man who was wearing a yellow raincoat with great big buttons. “Hello piggy,” the man in the raincoat said in a happy voice. Something about this person put the man doing his laundry on guard. He started to say something or maybe put the folding table in between them, but the guy in the raincoat moved so quickly there was no chance to do anything, and the knife sliced in a slow arc, cutting deep into his throat. The last thing he saw was blood soaking into the load of whites in the open washer. Susan felt herself surface and stood there in shock for a second, listening to Ellie whimper. She knew the first vision she'd had at Jake's apartment made this one all but unavoidable. There was no way she could have a vision as strong as that one, then walk through a charged energy field like this twenty minutes later without True Seeing. Instinct took over and she balanced her laundry basket on her hip, catching Ellie's arm with her other hand. She ran for the stairs, not even noticing the laundry jiggling out of her basket as she hauled her neighbor to the second floor. She let go of her only to juggle her keys. Turning her lock, she said to Ellie, “Call the police. We need to call the police.” Her neighbor looked back at her with glazed eyes. Grabbing the still non-functioning girl and towing her into the apartment, Susan flung her basket to the side and picked up the phone. “Don't panic, Ellie. We're calling the police,” she said. Susan knew she was reassuring herself more than her neighbor because Ellie hadn't spoken a word since they'd left the basement. As the phone rang, Susan had a moment to think about the irony of handling the discovery of a dead
body better than she handled leaving her underwear at Jake's apartment. A voice said, “Nine-one-one. What's your emergency?" This had been one hell of a Sunday. She was naïve enough to think it couldn't get any worse. Chapter Three
Jake leaned against the counter in his kitchen and wondered what had just happened. One minute, he was opening his mouth to invite Susan to dinner, having had the best sex of his life. The next, she was running out of his apartment like she was a football player on the way to the end zone. Women were strange creatures, but he had already figured out that this one was particularly tricky. For eleven months he had been pursuing her as casually as he could, when every bone in his body screamed at him to have her NOW. He'd been playing it cool, asking her out every so often after her relationship ended with that moron John Walters, only to be turned down each time. Then she shows up on my doorstep like the Avon Lady, propositioning me. He'd thought his heart was going to stop when he opened the door to find her standing there, looking sexy as hell in a simple green shirt and jeans. It had been all he could do to keep his expression blank. Jake usually dated women with a different body structure, but something about the way her short, slim body, green eyes, and pixie face combined made him change his mind about his ideal woman. He'd wanted her from the first and now he'd had her, but it wasn't enough. She was better than she had been in his fantasy the night before, or any of the fantasies he'd had about her in the last two weeks. She might not know what it meant when a guy was able to come three times in under an hour, but he did. It meant he would make damn sure he had her again. It meant he had put his brand on her. Spying a bit of yellow silk under his shirt on the floor, he reached over to grasp a pair of panties with his fingertips, still too lazy to move from the floor. He held them up, spread between his two hands and imagined her in them. He hadn't even stopped to look at her as he took off her clothes earlier. Maybe that's what caused her to run. He'd been too fast. Maybe he'd hurt her? He didn't think so. He'd bet his left nut she'd climaxed each time, all three times, and that she'd enjoyed it as much as he had. So why did she leave? He fought the impulse for a second and then gave in, leaning to bury his face in her underwear. Breathing in the scent of laundry detergent and a musky woman smell that was all Susan, he felt himself get hard again. He pulled back as if he'd been burned. Trouble with a capital T, that's what she was and had been since the beginning. But come hell or high water, he would have an explanation for what had gotten into her tonight. He had long ago promised himself he would have her, and he was talking about more than a roll in the hay. Or maybe I should say a roll in the kitchen. His lips tipped up into half a smile. He was determined and focused and patient. Exactly what made him so good at his job. There was no way she would hold out for long, not with that amount of desire coursing through her—hell, through both of them. Playing it cool hadn't gotten him anywhere and she had made the first move this time. She had given him an opening he didn't mind exploiting.
His pager went off somewhere on the floor. Jake hooked his toe around his sweatpants and dragged them closer. He unclipped the pager and looked at the text message. What he read caused him to leap up and run to his bedroom to put on some work clothes. He stopped, spun around, and retraced his steps into the kitchen. His hands reverently laid her yellow panties neatly on the island, his lips creasing into a crooked grin. Bet you're regretting leaving them now that you're home, Susan love. Maybe you'll trade something to get them back. As soon as he had a free moment from whatever work had paged him with, he would be paying a certain attorney a visit, yellow panties in hand. Maybe even tonight, if he was lucky enough that this turned out to be an open and shut call, something that could be put to bed in a snap. With that happy thought, Jake turned around to jog into his bedroom, humming the theme song from “Jaws." **** Dressed now in a suit, with his short brown hair in some semblance of order—it had been sticking up all over the place from someone running her electric fingers through it—Jake strode to Building 6 of Malvern Manner apartments, still feeling the afterglow inside his body. The trendy 1940s brick apartments weren't the usual place for a homicide, but Jake knew that Cary Street's rougher sections were close enough that violence sometimes spilled over. Or maybe this was a garden-variety domestic killing—an instance where the wife gets fed up and kills hubby or vice versa. Whatever the reason he had been called here, with a murder rate that always ended up on the top ten list, Richmond was a great place to be a homicide detective. A crowd of uniforms surrounded the left stairwell and Jake saw his partner, Miles Gordon, walking towards him. Gordon always beat him to every murder scene he'd ever been to. Damned if he could figure out how. The guy hadn't driven above the speed limit in his life and he never seemed to hurry, doing everything with his ever-present efficiency. It was a running joke between them that Jake would never be to a scene first. Jake took in his surroundings with a practiced eye, noting the other stairwell only a short way down to the right, already curious about why no one was around that set of steps. The apartments were the usual rectangle format, two stories, with six apartments per floor. Gordon turned when he got to Jake and retraced his steps without a word, letting Jake get a sense of the scene without comment or distraction. They walked under the police line that had already been erected and went down into the basement, stepping around what looked like a shirt and a lone sock on the stairs. Jake led the way down a dank hallway lit with one light and stopped when he stepped into the laundry room. Four washers lined the wall opposite the entry door. One dryer sat on the next wall of the rectangle and then three more dryers backed against the same wall that had the entry door on it. A long, rectangular folding table went down the center. A basket of dirty clothes lay spilled next to the closest washer, a couple bras visible in the tangle of shirts and jeans. As they stood there, a washer near the body buzzed to signal that the wash cycle had ended. Gordon wrote down the exact time and which washer it had been on his notepad. Jake took his own pad out of his coat pocket and did a quick sketch of the room. “Is this the only door in here?” he asked, still sketching. Gordon nodded, not looking up from his notebook. “So you can't get to the basement using the other stairwell?" “That one only goes up to the second floor—it doesn't go down."
“This is a dead end?" “Yep. Other room off the hallway contains the heating and air conditioning units. We've got people canvassing the neighbors to see if anyone saw a person leave here." “I take it the perp wasn't kind enough to hang around waiting for us?" “I'm afraid he chose to leave the scene of the crime." “How inconvenient." “Umm,” Gordon agreed. Jake looked around the well-lit room. Blood had splattered on the folding table and the walls, but hadn't been apparent at first because both were painted the dull brown mud color many institutions used to cover the grime. But on the white washers and the dryer that stood alone on the wall at the other end of the room, the blood stood out dramatically. The washer nearest to the body remained open, the white clothes sticking partially out of the top, as if the victim had been interrupted before he'd had a chance to push them down completely into the machine. The clothes showed the blood splatter like red wine spilled on a wedding cake. The Crime Scene Unit finished up with their routine and allowed the medical examiner to turn over the body. The victim's hands had been covered in paper bags so there was a chance he had something under his fingernails from fighting his attacker off. They would find out for sure after the body was examined at the lab. Jake didn't think he'd fought, though. The folding table was light enough that a hard shove would have moved it. Two people fighting in the small space would have had a large chance of hitting the table. CSU went through the motions of getting prints from around the room, but if the murderer lived in the building, proving they had been in the basement would mean nothing. Still, they could get lucky and identify someone with a record who wandered in off the street to kill this guy. Yeah right. Christ, there must be 15 people jammed in here. The paramedics were leaving when he arrived. Someone must have been blind to think there was a chance this guy was alive. One glance had told him this body wasn't walking ever again. In general, paramedics tended to rearrange evidence, although today they hadn't turned over the body, which was a lucky break. Body placement could be a clue. Or not. At this point, everything and anything could be important. He wrote down some notes, trying to ignore the jam of people. He stood still, fixing it all in his mind, mentally cataloging the room. All of the people here were leaving a little piece of themselves behind to contaminate the crime scene and mislead the detectives assigned to this case. It was one of his pet peeves about his job. Gordon had told him a hundred times he needed to accept it as a rule and not get all riled up. But that advice had only encouraged Jake to keep his thoughts to himself—it didn't stop him from thinking them. He wanted to tell everyone to haul ass out of here, but he turned his concentration to the man lying on the floor instead. Jake and Gordon moved to stand at the end of the folding table. The victim's throat had been cut in the telltale line that meant a straight-edged weapon, usually a knife. He had numerous stab wounds visible in the bloody mass that had been his chest. Blood covered the man's shirt, pants and face. He had bled out extensively, red liquid pooling below him on the concrete floor. It was possible the cause of death was loss of blood, but he could have died from the neck wound alone. Hard to breathe when the air doesn't make it from mouth to lungs.
Jake noted the basics on the victim. Black hair, about six feet tall, maybe one-ninety. In shape but not a weight lifter. Nice clothes. Dockers and a buttoned down shirt. Forty-dollar shoes. That could mean just about anything. Jake wore the same clothes when his aunt made him come over for Sunday dinner once a month—although he spent more on his shoes than this guy had. Gordon spoke. “A couple neighbors coming down to do their laundry found him. We should go talk to them." Gordon didn't waste words if he could help it. Jake had known him since he was a rookie; had liked and respected on sight the sharply-dressed, no-nonsense detective. Miles Gordon was a prim, trim, black man, who was smarter than half the force, rarely wrong, and bald as a Ping-Pong ball. He was one of the few people Jake never called by his first name. It didn't seem respectful to call him Miles and he sure as hell wasn't calling him Mr. Gordon, since he was only five years his senior. So Gordon it was. Jake nodded and followed him up the two flights of stairs into apartment twenty-five. Pausing at the open door, he noted the basket of laundry spilled to the right-hand side of the entrance. His gaze swung up to see Susan leaning against the back of her couch, her body language telling him she was badly shaken. Jake realized he'd never known where she lived. He'd always seen her at parties and around town. She looked up, straight at him, as if she'd felt him come in. He recovered his surprise before she could hers and he found himself fighting a grin. He'd wanted to see her tonight and now he would. Of course, he didn't like the circumstances, but he couldn't help the wash of pleasure he felt in her presence. Her eyes flared wide then narrowed at him from across the room. Jake coughed to hide a chuckle. Gordon shot him a look that made him sober up, while Susan dropped her head into her hands. “Ms. Rivers,” Gordon said, causing her to raise her head. “I'm Detective Miles Gordon; this is my partner Detective Matherly. May we ask you a few questions?" Susan managed to look composed again. Avoiding Jake's eyes, she said, “I'll help you however I can, Detective Gordon." Gordon flipped out his notebook and began to fire off questions. “Were you here all night?" “No, I came home about nine o'clock." “Where were you before that?" Susan flicked Jake a small look that he was certain his partner caught. “A friend's house." Jake opened his mouth to say it was his place, but Gordon saw him and cut him off with a small motion of his hand. “Describe how you found the body, please." Susan seemed to compose herself by taking a deep breath. “I didn't see him at first. When I came in the laundry room, I saw Ellie standing there frozen." “Where is Ellie now?" “She's next door, in apartment twenty-six. The other officer told us to wait in our apartments."
“Take me through everything that happened tonight.” Gordon stood in a relaxed stance. Jake knew this was the I'm-putting-the-witness-at-ease pose. But Gordon was still so intense that, under normal circumstances, Jake would have jumped in to take over questioning the witness because they both agreed he tended to get more information out of people. He was less intimidating. The fact he didn't take over now would cause Gordon to assume he knew Susan in some way. That he was possibly involved with her. And he was. Just not as involved as he'd like to be. “I went down to do laundry right after I got home. It was so late that I was rushing." “Do you usually do your laundry at nine o'clock on a Sunday?" Susan's gaze darted to Jake and back to Gordon. The woman had to have the worst poker face he'd ever seen. He had no idea how she could be an attorney when everything she felt was right there on her face. The blush rising up her throat to her cheeks screamed out that they had had sex. He felt a curious melting sensation, even as he wondered why he was being such a sap. Everything inside him screamed for him to walk over and put his arms around her, to offer her some comfort. Most civilians went through their whole lives without seeing a murder victim. But then he gave himself a mental shake—he was a cop interviewing a witness. Get it together, Matherly. “No, I don't usually do my laundry at this time. I was running late. Tonight was a fluke." Jake knew she shot the last bit at him, although her gaze was on Gordon. Fluke, meaning it wouldn't happen again. He wanted to say something like ‘that's what you think, Susan love,’ but controlled himself with effort. “Continue,” Gordon said, writing it all down in his notebook. Jake liked that Gordon took most of the notes. He had developed a complex shorthand that made him three times faster than Jake. Jake watched people's faces while Gordon took the notes. It was one of a hundred things that made them an excellent team. Gordon's tone kept Susan flustered. Her hands twisted on the sofa back, while her gaze darted to Jake. He winked at her. Her eyes grew large and her mouth dropped open. She stood straighter, her anger at his outrageous behavior taking her attention from Gordon's bedside manner as Jake had hoped. Susan looked back at Gordon. “I walked into the room, thinking about other things, so I didn't notice the body right away. I only saw Ellie at first. It was like she had gone into a coma or something. She just stood there. And when she didn't answer me, I saw the man on the floor. And all the blood. At first, I couldn't figure out what I was looking at then it clicked. All I could think was that I had to get out of the basement, so I grabbed Ellie's arm and ran up to my apartment to call the police." “Do you know who the victim is?" “No.” Susan paused for a second, acting as if she thought about what she saw. “No, I'm sure I've never seen him before." Jake felt a flutter in his gut and tried to figure out what bothered him about her last answer. The guy was
face down—how could she be sure she didn't know him? He pushed back the feeling, rationalizing that Susan's action-packed evening had made her say things in a way that had his alarm bells ringing. “Where was your laundry during all this?" “My laundry?” She looked at the basket beside the door for a second as if she was trying to remember. “With me. It was with me." “Why didn't you drop it in the basement?" “I don't know. It's like I forgot it was there and it just went with me when I left." “How did you carry it?" Jake had been curious about this, too. It was a cop thing. Weird, small details sometimes held you up. He had to put a crime together in his mind so all the pieces fit. When the pieces didn't fit, he jiggled them around until they fell in place or turned into a clue. “Against my hip.” Susan held her arm out from her body, demonstrating. “I held it with my left hand and pulled Ellie by my right. It's not heavy. Most of my clothes go to the dry cleaners. I only wash my workout clothes and my underwear." Gordon still looked down at his notebook. Susan's gaze flicked over to Jake and the red rose across her face again. There was no doubt what she was thinking about. He grinned at her, and had to control a hoot of laughter that welled up when he saw her right hand uncurl from her crossed arms to flip him the bird. She might be embarrassed, but she still held her own. “What else can you tell me? What else did you see?” Gordon's face snapped up from his notebook and his voice became the you-will-tell-me-everything interrogation voice. Jake had always been surprised at how often this tactic worked on the bad guys. “What else did I See?” Susan was back to her earlier nervousness and Jake's gut went back on alert. “What do you mean?" Gordon's eyes narrowed. “Any other details you can remember?" “No. Nothing. That's all I can tell you." Jake's gut twisted again. Something was wrong here. Like most cops, he had a good sense of when people were lying and that sense told him something wasn't exactly right about the last set of answers she had given. Why was she so nervous all of a sudden? Why did he feel like she was lying? He caught her gaze but only held it for a second before she looked away. “Do you have an emergency number for the manager?” Gordon asked. He hadn't caught that something was off or he would have circled back. Susan nodded and went into the kitchen. She came back and handed him a card. He thanked her, shaking her hand in a business-like manner, giving her his card in return, and walked out the door. Jake shook her hand in the same manner and jerked her forward to whisper in her ear, “We'll be chatting again very soon so I suggest you rethink some of your answers. I know something's off here, Susan.” He left her open-mouthed, leaning against the back of her couch as he shut her door.
Gordon went with Jake to talk to the neighbor, although he stayed quiet for most of the interview, letting Jake take the lead. Ellie didn't really know anything except how to hold Kleenex tissues to her face. Her inability to function caused him to think about how well Susan was holding up in the situation. Sure, she was shaken, but she wasn't a weeping mess like this woman. The upshot of Ellie's statement was she came in right before Susan and found the body of someone she didn't think she'd ever seen before. It was her laundry that had spilled across the floor. She hadn't seen anyone around before she went down to the basement, but her downstairs neighbor Mr. Parker. She didn't have much else to add, even after Jake had gotten her a glass of water to help her calm down. Gordon left her with his card and Jake made a mental note to come back and talk to her when she'd had a chance to get herself together. They left her apartment and walked to the railing on the landing, looking out at the grassy yard and the parking lot. “I think we should hit Mr. Parker tonight." “Agreed.” Intensity rolled off Gordon in waves. Jake usually tried to lighten him up a bit. It couldn't be healthy to be that focused all the time. “No time like the present,” he said, his mind wandering off to dwell on Susan again. “Why put off until tomorrow what you can do today?” Gordon asked back. Jake shook off his thoughts as they set off down the stairwell together. “You know what they say, Gordon. An ounce of prevention beats a pound of something or other.” Jake knocked on Apartment 16. He put his cop mask on as he faced the door. He knew the look he wore gave absolutely nothing away. The door opened to show a fifty-year-old man with what Jake called The Swoop. He had tried to hide his pattern baldness by growing one side of his remaining hair longer and swooping it over his bald spot. He wore a silk robe that in earlier times would have been called a smoking jacket. His feet were in matching silk slippers. Even through the robe, Jake could see Mr. Parker was trying hard to fight the softness that comes with age. “Mr. Parker?” At the man's nod, Jake said, “I'm Detective Matherly and this is Detective Gordon.” He showed his badge. “May we come in?" Parker seemed to think about this for a second, then gave a car salesman smile and said, “I don't see why not,” in a too-jovial tone. Jake knew with only those five words, he didn't like him. “May we have your full name please?" “Paul Ryan Parker. What's this about officers?" “Where were you tonight, Paul?” By calling him by his first name, Jake put him in an inferior position, the way an adult would treat a child. He didn't often use this method during interviews, preferring the I-am-your-friend technique, but he didn't like Paul Ryan Parker. “Here. In my apartment." “The whole night?"
“Well, I got home around eight-thirty, I guess." “Home from where?” Jake didn't feel like giving him any slack. Gordon took notes while he watched Parker squirm. The guy was hiding something or maybe he was naturally slimy. He couldn't tell which. “From dancing class.” Parker tried to get chummy. “Ballroom dancing. All those lonely single women looking for a romantic guy who is willing to wine and dance them through an evening. You should try it. I've gotten three dates out of it in the last month." “Did you see anyone when you got home?" “Well, I saw the little girl who lives upstairs. I think her name is Ellie. I'm not sure where you are going with all this.” Paul Parker switched tactics from chummy, just-one-of-the-guys to innocent what's-going-on. Jake didn't react to the change. “Did you see anyone else?" “No I didn't. What's this about?" Jake watched him carefully. “Someone was murdered in the laundry room of this building.” Why the act, Parker? There's no way you didn't hear the commotion outside. Parker blanched. “I can't believe it. Malvern Manor is such a nice community." That sounds rehearsed. We need to circle back to this guy. Why had he changed into a robe? Were his clothes bloodstained? Or was he one of those guys who walked around wearing a housecoat? Jake had never worn a robe and wondered why any man would. “Where are you taking dance lessons?" “At Studio Twenty-One. Ask Reba, my dance instructor. She'll tell you I was there!” A note of panic crept in at the end of his answer. “Did you hear anything out of the usual?” Jake interspersed accusations with friendly inquiries. “No, nothing at all. But I've been watching a movie since I got home.” Parker's hands fluttered with nerves. Jake noticed the cover for Girl's Gone Wild Spring Break sitting on the coffee table. He'd always wondered who ordered those videos and now he knew. Jake took one look around Parker's living room. High-end furniture predominantly done in leather was surrounded by what looked like real artwork. Parker had some bucks considering he lived in an apartment. Jake wondered why he wasn't in a house. Gordon spoke for the first time as he handed Parker his card. “Give us a call if you can remember anything else, Mr. Parker. We appreciate your cooperation." They left without shaking his hand. “What do you think?” Jake asked. “Don't know. He seemed nervous. Let's check the alibi." “I can't figure out if my gut's saying anything about this guy, or if it's that he's so slimy I want to accuse him of something just to get him off the streets to save the lonely women of the world."
“He's quite a ladies’ man,” Gordon said dryly. “Yeah, bet he's got them panting after him.” As he walked back down to the basement, he thought again that something was off in Susan's statement as well. It could be the stress of finding a body. Or the stress of what happened between them. Or a combination of both. But something told him it wasn't any of these things. She wasn't saying everything she knew. And he would be back to find out what it was as soon as he had the chance. **** Later, as they walked to their cars, he stopped Gordon in the parking lot and said quietly, “Susan was at my place tonight." Gordon nodded. “Figured that out. Think she has anything to do with this?" “No way. Besides being physically unable to cut someone with that kind of force, she wouldn't have had the time to kill him and then come back down with her laundry. She left my place close to nine." “She your new squeeze?" Gordon wasn't one to pry so the question caught Jake a little off guard even as it amused him. Gordon talked about dating like someone raised in the 50's. “She's warming up to it. She's having a little commitment issue, but we're working on that.” Jake grinned at Gordon's surprised look. For some reason, his partner seemed to think he was a big ladies’ man. Up until tonight, he had been living like a monk for the last eleven months. Jake almost mentioned his suspicions about Susan's statement, but decided to keep it to himself. Technically, he should have brought up any concerns he had during the interview, but he hadn't because the circumstances were unusual, to say the least. This woman had left him an hour earlier naked on his kitchen floor. He couldn't trust himself to be one hundred percent objective right now and Gordon hadn't seen anything off. Maybe he was wrong. He decided not to bring it up unless something panned out during his next conversation with her. Why was he acting so protective? Jake forced himself to be honest as he got into his car. Eleven months of obsessing about her, coupled with what had happened between them tonight, made objectivity difficult. It was as obvious as the leaves dropping from the trees in the crisp October air. Susan Rivers had gotten under his skin. Chapter Four
Susan wasn't surprised when she opened her door to find Jake on her doorstep. In fact, she was surprised he had waited a whole day to track her down. Work had been hell and she really wasn't in the mood to deal with him, but she stood back and made the mocking ‘enter’ gesture he had given her twenty-four hours before. She saw from his grin that her replay wasn't lost on him. Jake walked in, seeming without a care and began a complete inspection of her living room. Susan held off her temper for about sixty seconds. “What do you want, Jake?” she asked, using his words from the night before in another attempt to vent her frustration. Jake stopped his examination of the impressionist print over the mantel to give her his full attention.
“Missing anything?" Susan had known it was coming, but still had to fight down the urge to act as if she didn't know what he was talking about. “You know I am." “Serves you right for leaving my apartment in such a huff,” he said. “We might be able to work a trade if you want them back." She could tell he teased her—his tone was light—but she wasn't in the mood for his games. He walked closer, his face turning serious, his hands reaching to tip her head so he could look fully into her face. “You're looking rather pale, Susan love.” His touch was light but firm. “What's wrong?" She had spent her day in the middle of a contract negotiation with two parties that wouldn't give an inch, making a mockery of the term “negotiate.” This, added to last night's two visions, one on top of the other, mind-blowing sex, and a dead body had done their damage. She had half-expected him to show up at work, which kept her stomach in knots all day. Susan felt like sleeping for a month. Instead, she pulled out of his hands and said, “Oh, I don't know, Detective Matherly. Everything's going so smoothly lately that I really don't have a care in the world." “Tsk, Tsk, Susan. Sarcasm is the weapon of the weak." Anger filled her and drained out of her body in a loop that left her exhausted. He had always been like this. Unflappable, stalking, irritating. Desirable. “What do you want, Jake?” She sighed and walked to her glass of wine on the table, taking a steadying sip. “I'm beat.” She sat down on her overstuffed chair. He crossed the room and sat on the coffee table in front of her. Susan couldn't control her flash of irritation over his abuse of her table and was rewarded with an amused twist of his lips and the glint in his brown eyes. He moved forward so that their knees touched. “You tell me what you didn't tell Gordon last night and I'll get out of your hair." Susan felt her body go rigid in reaction to his question and knew he felt it, too. She forced herself to relax. He didn't know anything. He was fishing. They were connected—had been for a long time now through the electric attraction they generated, and he could catch feelings from her others couldn't. She had to fend him off with plausible explanations. “I don't understand what you're asking me,” she said as calmly as she could. “Are you saying I had something to do with this?" “Did you?" “No!” She knew he didn't really think she was involved with what had happened. He was purposely putting her on edge. She couldn't control her anger and fought to calm herself again. Her body no longer felt exhausted, but filled with energy. Her emotions were all over the map. Susan looked, really looked, at the man sitting rudely on her coffee table, his knees still touching hers. He was dressed in a charcoal gray suit, which complemented his short brown hair. It didn't hide his broad, muscled chest, but accented it. The white shirt tapered over his flat stomach in such a way that she wanted to touch him. His tie, on close inspection, had little stickmen on it, in different poses, their eyes x's to indicate they were dead. Cop humor? It hung between his legs as he leaned over into her space. His strong face still had a bit of tan on it from the hot, dry fall they'd had, complementing the brown eyes that were narrowed in concentration at her, intelligence and determination radiating from them.
“Of course you didn't have anything to do with this murder,” Jake said, his words snapping her back to the conversation. “But you know something you aren't telling, Susan. I can feel it." She wondered what to tell him. “Why are you saying that? I answered all Detective Gordon's questions as truthfully as I could." “Did you?" “Yes." “Do you know Robb Connors?" Susan blinked at the change of subject. Where had this come from? “The guy in apartment twenty-one?" “Yes." Susan looked for help around her empty living room in confusion. Finding no one there, she looked back at him and said, “I know Robb." “What is your relationship with him?” His voice was all cop, cold and detached. “My relationship? I don't have a relationship with him!” Jake had a right to question her about leaving something out, since she did. But she was not going to allow him imply she was dating a total scab like Robb Connors. “How do you feel about him?" “Robb? Ugh!” Susan looked at her wine glass, wishing the Good Fairy would come refill it for her. Jake grinned, relaxing the cop face for a second. “Come on, I know you wouldn't date him. He's not your type. Just tell me the scoop on him." Susan drew herself up. “How do you know what my type is?" “Because, Susan love, I'm your type.” At her look, he pushed his palms toward her and said, “Come on now, you walked into that one.” Then he turned up his palms and made a give-it-up motion, wiggling his fingers at her. She sighed in exasperation. “If you're talking about Robb as a person, he's a little heavy with the flirting. He asks out every woman he sees and won't take no for an answer. My neighbors and I think he has a rotation that goes by apartment. Ellie, then me, then Georgia. The other two apartments have couples living in them, so I think those women are safe. I'm not sure if he hits on the first floor tenants, since I don't know them as well. It's a running joke with the three of us." “Ellie's the one who found the body?” Jake's face was back to the cop mask he had worn earlier. “Yes. Georgia's apartment is next door,” she said, pointing to the left. “But she might be out of the rotation now that her brother has moved in. I'm not sure. We haven't run into each other to catch up for the last few weeks." “From the description one of the canvassing officers gave of him, it sounds like Robb looks like the
victim. That's a strange coincidence, don't you think?" Susan thought back to her vision, when she could see the dead man while he was still standing up. “I guess he did—the same hair color and height. Are you saying that's relevant?" “I don't know what's relevant and what's not at this point. His description matched almost word for word with the one I wrote down for the victim and it caused a red flag for me.” Jake shifted on the coffee table as if it was uncomfortable. Susan hoped it was. “Old Robb sounds like a piece of work. Did you see him Sunday night?" She was perplexed at his line of questioning. “Why? Do you think he killed that man?" “Do you?" “I would think he'd kill a woman before he'd kill a man, the way he chases anything that wears pantyhose." “The first rule in police work is anything is possible. The second is coincidences stink. Who knows, maybe he's repressing his homosexuality and was secretly in love with the victim." It was such a weird thought that Susan couldn't help but laugh. “Maybe. He certainly gets repressed by a lot by women." “Is he giving you a hard time?” From the sound of Jake's voice, he wasn't asking this question as a policeman. The thought both pleased and worried her. She looked at him for a second. “Somewhat.” She was reluctant to get into this with him for some reason. He was acting Medieval and she didn't need him getting involved in something she could handle by herself. “Somewhat how?" She sighed. She might as well tell him. He'd pester her until she did. “A week or two ago, he pushed his way into my apartment and I had to threaten him with the police to get him out." Jake stared at her for a full minute before she hurried to say, “He's harmless. Just a pest." Jake was silent as he seemed to digest that. “So?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at her. “So what?" “Did you see him Sunday night?" “Actually I did." Jake looked irritated. “Why didn't you say something before?" “Because, Jake, neither you nor your partner asked and I didn't think it was important." “All right,” he looked really annoyed now. “Let's take it from the point where you left me naked on my floor and move forward again."
“We've never talked this through from that point, Detective.” Susan could feel her own irritation increasing. They locked gazes for what felt like a minute, but then she gave in. “I drove straight from your place to here. Got out of my car. Walked up the stairs. When I got to the top of the stairs, I screamed at Robb." “You did what?" “I screamed at him. He popped up all of a sudden and startled me. He's been doing that lately.” She made a slashing gesture at Jake to stop him from interrupting her again. “Then I walked into my apartment and shut the door in his face. I changed clothes and grabbed my laundry and went down to the basement." Jake made a T with his hands. “Okay, back up. Weren't you concerned he'd be waiting for you when you left to do your laundry?" “I figured he'd be off asking someone else out. I don't think of him as a threat. In the past, when I've said no, he usually goes off and asks Ellie or Georgia out." “What do you mean when you say he's been popping out at you lately?" “He's been waiting for me outside my door. It's his new method of asking me out, ever since I got caller ID and stopped answering his phone calls. This is the second time he's done it in the dark, but this time I was so wound up, that when he jumped out at me, I screamed. It was stupid." “Did you speak to him?" “Yes. I said, ‘Hello, Robb’ and ‘Goodbye, Robb.’ I don't think I said anything else." Jake shut his eyes and looked like he was asking for patience. “What did he say to you?" “He asked me out on a date." “Did you say yes or no?" “Not that it is any of your business, Detective, but I didn't say either. I told him last month I would no longer repeat myself and that if he asked me out again, he should assume my answer is no." “Has he asked you out that many times?" Susan nodded. “He's a pain in the rear, but I don't think he killed that guy in the basement. He wasn't acting in any way out of the ordinary." “Except for the fact he wouldn't leave your apartment when you asked him to and he's purposely scaring you. It sounds like he's escalating, becoming more aggressive." Susan looked at her hands resting in her lap. She could handle Robb. The man she couldn't handle was sitting on her coffee table. “Why did you say to Gordon, ‘that's all I can tell you'?” Jake leaned in to her, switching back to his original line of questioning. “The only people who say stuff like that are being threatened by others, like a
prostitute with her pimp. Since you aren't in that situation, I want to know what you couldn't tell Gordon." Susan's mind raced, trying to keep up with his subject change. “I don't know why I used that wording, Jake.” She wanted to get up and pace, but he was blocking her in. “I don't know why I did. I was flustered, that's all.” She made herself make and maintain eye contact with him. He had to believe her and stop fishing because she wasn't going to tell him about her visions. “Can't you understand that?" He searched her face for a moment, and nodded. “That could be it.” At her relieved look, he added, “Could be but I don't think so. What aren't you telling me? You were calm as can be before Gordon asked what else you had seen. You jumped at that last word.” Jake stressed the word seen as Gordon had. Susan tried not to move in surprise—he had said Seen like she thought of it when she was speaking about True Seeing, with a capital S—but in trying to stay still, she gave herself away. She could tell by the flash of something that moved through his eyes. “Jake, what else could I be holding back from you? I walked down to the basement, saw Ellie, saw the body and called the police from my apartment. I don't know what you think I could be able to hide in that scenario. Ask me anything you want. I'll give you the answers to your questions.” She pushed his shoulders to lean him back from her so she could get some space between them. “But I don't know what you want me to tell you." “That's the puzzler. I know you're holding something back, but I don't know what.” He stood up, looking cagey. He stalked in a tight circle beside the coffee table. Susan started to stand too, but Jake was back again in a heartbeat, forcing her into her seat. He leaned over and grabbed her chin. “I'll be back when I have the right question, Susan.” He planted a rough kiss on her lips that set her on fire. “Until then, you know where I live if you want to come tell me what the right answer is.” He started to stand, then sat on the coffee table to grab her head and bring her forward for another kiss. His lips slanted across hers, then his tongue dipped into her mouth. Susan felt all the energy in her body pool between her legs. Jake broke the kiss and for a moment, they both sat there in a daze, panting for breath. Acting as if it was the greatest effort of his life, Jake stood and walked to the door. He turned with his hand resting on the knob. “I was serious about working out a trade if you want your underwear back,” he said, his voice lower than usual, coming out in a growl. Susan felt worn out after all his questioning and confused by her overwhelming desire to ask him to stay the night. She wasn't sure if she cared at this point. “Keep them as a souvenir, Jake. I'm not giving you anything else." “You're wrong, Susan.” He made it sound like a promise. And then he went out the door, tossing a, “Make sure you lock up behind me,” over his shoulder. She got up, locked the door, and rested her head against it. She had to sleep with a cop, didn't she? Her number one priority would now be to avoid him at all costs. He threatened everything she had spent her life protecting. And, most dangerous of all, he knew she had a secret. Cops hated secrets. Even as she thought this, she forced herself to turn away from the door instead of calling him back to jump his body. ****
Jake walked away from Susan's, watching his feet on the concrete, shaking off the desire that raged through his body with difficulty. He needed to talk to this Robb character before he left the apartment complex. He didn't like the sound of Robb's behavior when he was around Susan. And he needed to get a feel for him to see if he would be added to their pitifully short list of suspect hopefuls for last night's murder. He didn't like that his feelings were shading his perspective on this case. It wasn't a good sign. He sighed and tried to put his concerns about Robb hitting on his woman aside. “My woman? Jesus, Matherly,” he groaned out loud. One day since he'd slept with her and he had already escalated his feelings to ownership. Stopping outside of Apartment 21, he gave himself a mental shake before he knocked on the door. An in-shape, thirty-something year old with black hair and even, handsome features appeared. Jake didn't know what he expected, but he was surprised by how good-looking Robb Connors appeared. He realized he'd assumed Robb must be ugly to act so desperate with the ladies. If he had been that good-looking as a woman, Jake didn't think Robb would be begging for dates. Maybe this proved men really were focused on one thing. Or maybe Robb had some unappealing qualities that canceled out his handsome face. “Robb Connors?” he asked, opening his jacket to show the badge he'd clipped onto his belt. “I'm Detective Matherly. I'm working on the murder investigation of the man killed here in the laundry room. May I come in?" “Sorry, Detective Matherly,” Robb said, not sounding very sorry as far as Jake could tell. “I'd rather you didn't. My place is a mess.” Robb shrugged at him and kept the door pressed against his side as if he was afraid Jake might try to look past him. Jake flipped open his notebook and wrote weird behavior under the heading Robb Connors interview that he'd written earlier. “I need to ask you some questions." “I already answered some cop's questions last night. Is there some reason you're interviewing me again?" Jake met Robb's gaze with a blank one of his own. “I'm just following up on some loose ends. Where were you last night between seven and nine-thirty?" “Here. In my apartment. The other cop already asked me that question." Jake ignored his comment. “For the whole time?" “For most of it. I went out and spoke with a neighbor for a few minutes." “Which neighbor?" “Susan Rivers. I went to see if she wanted to go to a concert with me.” Robb looked irritated. “She said she couldn't go. She had other plans so I left and came back here and watched the Dating Game on Lifetime. It's on between eight and nine." “So you watched the Dating Game after you spoke with Miss Rivers?” Jake asked, writing spoke with
Susan during the time she was at my apartment. He didn't bother to look up at Robb while he wrote in his notebook. He didn't have to see his face to know he was lying. “I also had a long conversation some time last night with another woman I'm seeing. We spoke on the phone for maybe an hour." As if you're seeing Susan, Jake thought, stamping down his irritation. He was a professional and would act like it. He would not give in to his burning need to give Robb a warning about his behavior with women. What was up with all the men at this apartment complex? He wrote check to see when Dating Game comes on Lifetime. Jake hadn't heard of a man watching anything on Lifetime before. Wasn't that a women's only channel? “Does this woman have a name?" “Margaret Westbrook. You can call her if you want. Maybe I confused the two conversations. Maybe I spoke with Susan after my show went off?” His voice became defensive. “Look, what's with all these questions? Am I a suspect or something?" “It's just standard procedure, Robb,” Jake said, his voice sounding like he believed it himself. “So you spoke with Susan after your TV show went off?" “Right about then, I guess. Maybe a little before nine." “You missed the exciting conclusion to your show?” Jake kept his face bland and the sarcasm out of his voice. “I noticed during the commercial break that she was walking up the stairs and thought I'd catch her as she was coming in." “Why the rush?" “The concert is coming up and I need someone to go with me. I've already paid for the tickets." “While you were out of your apartment, did you see anyone else around?" “No. Only Susan." Lucky Susan, Jake thought. “Did you know Jim Daugherty?" “No, who's that?" “He was the victim, Robb. Did you see anything at all yesterday that looked suspicious? Anyone hanging around who shouldn't be here?" “No, look, I already told you. I spent most of the afternoon in my apartment. Before that, I was at my mother's house. We went to church together." Jake thought the church part was a nice touch, because everyone knew people who went to church didn't commit murder. Riiiggghhht. He wrote can't be a murderer, goes to church in his notebook.
“If you think of anything, give me a call,” Jake said, handing him his card. Robb nodded and closed the door in his face without saying goodbye. He'd lied about Susan's reaction to his date, but that might be so he wouldn't look stupid in front of another guy. But he'd been tap dancing around his movements for the evening. Jake knew where Susan had been from eight to nine and it wasn't with Robb. Jake would give Margaret Westbrook a call when he got back to the station and see where she fitted in the timeline. Susan has some really weird neighbors, he thought, walking to his car. It was hard to tell if they were murdering weirdoes or your regular, everyday kind of weirdoes. He would have to ask Gordon his opinion. Chapter Five
Susan felt the hush fall over the smoky bar when she and her two best friends walked into the room. Courtney had been right; Buddy's was packed on Tuesday nights, if tonight was any indication of the norm. Packed with men, all watching a football game on the many TVs around the room. A bar full of men was something she didn't need. Based on her choice of company, she should have known she would end up in a place like this. Both Courtney and Briles were notorious boy-hounds. But she couldn't say no when they gave her the pitch of why she needed to come out with them. And they were right, staying at home was asking for another restless night. She hadn't slept well the last forty-eight hours. Thoughts of dead people interspersed with thoughts of Jake had made her toss and turn. Her mood never failed to pick up when she went out with her friends, especially in situations like this that had a high probability of turning out to be amusing. Both of them were beautiful women in their own way and Susan knew she was a perfect companion to them, since she wasn't interested in relationships in general, and one-night stands were a definite no-no for her. Jake was her one failing—a no-no that had turned into a yes-yes. That meant they only had to compete between themselves for whatever men were in play. And usually enough men came their way that they didn't need to fight at all. Perhaps that was the wrong word for it, since neither of them respected men enough to end up fighting for them except when it amused them. Briles was in the lead tonight. Her long blond hair was pulled back into a clip with just a couple pieces of bangs hanging down, highlighting her gorgeous face. Dark blue eyes and a full mouth were her best features and the ice-blue tube-top she wore left her perfect shoulders bare. All three women wore simple black pants, but only Briles’ hung on her hips to reveal a slash of her flat stomach. If Briles was a song, Susan thought, she might be a sexy, hip-hop dance tune, with a pumping bass that every man in the bar could hear. Courtney was on Susan's right, dressed in black. The tallest, she was almost six feet in her high-heeled boots. Courtney's was a different tune every time Susan saw her. Although tonight she seemed mellow enough, her friend's moods could change in a heartbeat. Susan had been frightened a couple of times by Courtney's mood swings. But 99% of the time, she was pure fun. Black short hair was slicked back from her face to show off her exotic features. Taking a quick survey of the room, Susan felt Courtney had about an even amount of admirers as Briles did. The reaction was so typical, Susan felt sorry for all the chumps, ah, men in the bar. Her gaze swept the room again in amusement, but then stopped on a face she had missed before. It was one of the few faces in the crowd that wasn't looking at either of her friends. Jake Matherly stared directly at her and he didn't look very happy. She put her back to him as she sat down at the high table, her legs feeling a bit wobbly. But she felt him now, the hair on the back of her neck rising in anticipation
as she sensed him coming closer. She jumped when his hands closed over her shoulders, even though she had known he stood behind her. There was nothing she could do. She was trapped. **** The man on Jake's right let out a whistle, “Six o'clock gentlemen. Look what's coming in the door." Jake shook himself out of his partial stupor. He had been turning over in his mind what Susan could be hiding for the better part of an hour and his companions had long ago given up on including him in the conversation. They all knew he was a dog with a bone when it came work, so they left him to his own company. When he first looked up, he'd only seen the long-haired blond in the lead and the tall, dark-haired woman behind her but as they moved, the dark-haired woman fell back a step to reveal the shorter woman beside her. Strawberry blond hair, amused green eyes, and that full, sensuous, laughing mouth added up to one person. His attention snapped onto the object of his recent musings and everything else in the bar faded into a peripheral haze. What was she doing out at Buddy's after seeing a dead body two days ago? Through narrowed eyes, he watched the three beautiful women flow across the floor to a table. He didn't miss the fact that every other male was watching them, too. He almost didn't identify the jealousy as it welled up inside him. His first thought was that he was angry with her for being here. His second was she had been playing with him when he was at her apartment. The woman yesterday had looked beaten. This woman didn't look beaten; she looked gorgeous. Then he noticed the dark smudges beneath her eyes and the slight droop to her shoulders. He knew he would have sensed it if she had been acting last night. So why was she here? Her head turned as she looked around the room, a slightly amused tilt to her mouth. On the second pass, her gaze met his and she hastily looked away and took a seat at her table. Jake didn't know why she was here, but he knew she wouldn't be staying. If she wanted some guy to look at her, he would stare at her all night long. At home. He felt himself stand as if yanked by invisible strings. “Going somewhere, Matherly?” Someone at the table asked the question, but Jake didn't stop to figure out who it was. Because suddenly, as he looked at her, he knew the question he had to ask, as if a light switch had gone on in his mind. What thing would most people not want to tell a police officer? Could it be that simple? “I have a question I need an answer to,” Jake muttered. He walked towards her, unaware the anger in his stride had most of the people in the bar tracking him. Jake felt her jump when his hands came down on her shoulders. He leaned over and breathed into her ear, “I've got the question. Let's get out of here so I can ask it.” He straightened, pulling her off the high barstool in the same motion. He made it exactly one step away from the table, when the tall, dark-haired woman jumped in front of him. “Where do you think you're going with my friend?” Her voice carried around the room, causing the conversation around them to fade. “Courtney,” Susan said in a tone a little above a whisper, all calm in the storm. “This is one of the detectives from the murder at my apartment complex. He's got some questions to ask me."
Jake could tell Susan was worried about her friend's reaction and he cursed himself seven ways to Sunday for strong-arming her. What in the hell did he think he was going to do, drag her out of the bar? Jesus, where did his head go when he got around her? Courtney stood as if deciding. “Are you sure you want to go with him? As your attorney, I highly advise you not to speak to him without me present." “Attorney?” Jake asked. Did she get a lawyer? Susan ignored him. “Courtney, what are you talking about? You're a contract attorney." Courtney laughed delightedly, her mood changing lightning fast. “I've always wanted to say that!" Susan pulled on Jake's arm to bring him a step closer to the table. “Detective Matherly, these are my friends from work, Courtney and Briles.” Jake didn't care which one was which. They had too much makeup on and were wearing too little clothing. Compared to Susan, he thought they weren't anywhere close to her in the looks department, even though a year ago he might have thought otherwise. He'd thought he liked his women like Susan's friends. He'd found out at his party eleven months ago he was wrong. Briles’ smoky voice purred her appreciation, as she gave Jake a quick once-over. “Come on now, Detective, we're trying to cheer her up. Don't pull her out of here quite yet." Well, that explained why she was out tonight. Jake looked at her two friends and tightened his grip on Susan's arm. They were piranhas, he could tell. The blonde one looked like she was going to lean over any second to lick him and the tall one was giving a probing look at the top of his jeans. Jake didn't even realize he had stepped slightly behind Susan until she looked up at him with amusement dancing in her eyes. Answering his silent plea, she spoke up, “Detective Matherly has another round of questions for me so I'll see you guys tomorrow at work. I was too tired for this anyway. We'll go out this weekend." Jake could tell Susan was stepping in out of pity but any help was welcome. “Good hunting,” Susan called back over her shoulder to her friends as he propelled her out of the bar. Chapter Six
“I feel like I need a shower after the looks those two gave me. God, Susan, who in the hell were those women? Beautiful but deadly, taken to a new extreme." “Scared you, did they?” Susan couldn't stop the laughter that escaped. She thought it was kind of cute that a man who risked getting shot every day of his life at his job would be scared of her two friends. “I work with them. Briles is a paralegal and Courtney's another attorney at the firm. They're also my best friends." “Just promise me you won't leave me alone with them.” At her peals of laughter, he added, “The tall one was checking out my package."
Susan laughed until she was wiping tears away. “Now you know how women feel. All men should get that treatment at least once in their lives. It would make the world a better place." “Did you drive?” he asked her. “No." He grabbed her hand and pulled her to his car, stuffing her into the front seat as if she might make a run for it. He drove the few blocks to her apartment without speaking. Susan wondered where his mind had wandered. Mentally, she tried to gear up for the upcoming confrontation. Jake pulled into her apartment parking lot. They both got out at the same time, but he met her as she came around the car. “Follow me up the stairs,” he said, looking around with an alertness that put her on guard. They walked up the stairs with Susan feeling like she was playing follow-the-leader. At the top, Jake took her keys and opened her door. “You're spooking me, Jake. You seem like you are on full alert. Should I be this worried living here?" Susan stood in her living room as Jake did a quick sweep. It was a small apartment—one bedroom, one bath, a kitchen and a large living room that all formed a square. While the layout was unimaginative, Susan thought her decorations weren't. She liked the bold splashes of colors against the off-white couch and the beautiful, but simple dark coffee table. And she enjoyed the added touch of the exposed beams across the ceiling. When he came back into the room, she repeated, “Should I be this worried, Jake?" He looked at her, his face serious. “I'll be honest. I don't know. This case is a bit of a puzzle.” He prowled restlessly across the deep blue oriental carpet covering the hardwoods. “Who was he? The man in the laundry room?” she asked. “Jim Daugherty. He lives over in the Woodbridge Apartments." “Woodbridge? Aren't they a few miles away? What was he doing in our laundry room?" “Doing his laundry.” The simplicity of his statement seemed to amuse him and Jake grinned at her. “It's fifty cents cheaper per load here." “What? He came here to save money? To save fifty cents?" “Turns out he always does his wash over here in different buildings. His girlfriend said he was such a penny pincher that they didn't eat out anywhere they didn't have a coupon for." “Why Jake? Why was he killed? Surely not because he was sneaking in to do his laundry?" She watched him as he moved to a display of little boxes on the mantel and began systematically lifting the lid of each of them as he spoke. “Daugherty was a nobody. Besides being the cheapest guy I've ever heard of, he was harmless. No gambling, steady girlfriend with an alibi, no debt, no real money to speak of, family living across the country, no enemies, church volunteer, works at a bank as a teller. The guy didn't even drink, believe it or not. A regular Ward Cleaver."
Jake lifted the lid of the last box. “From the angle of the knife, the person who did this was his height, about six feet or so. And it takes some serious strength to do this kind of knife work so we're fairly sure the perp was a man. No evidence of the person's identity, no obvious motive. Only a single strand of hair that wasn't the victim's and we have no way of knowing if it was a stray hair picked up from the floor of the laundry room when he fell. It will take five weeks for us to get the results of the DNA test back." Susan drifted closer to hear him, because his voice had gotten softer as he spoke. “No one saw the guy who did it. Not a soul.” Jake's gaze met hers and Susan felt her stomach clinch in anticipation of what was coming. She felt as if he was about to pounce. “Did they Susan?” He moved closer to her, closing the gap between them. “Or did someone see him?" She moved away instinctively, trying to come up with an acceptable answer. “I ... I don't know what you're talking about." Jake closed the distance again, his voice a whisper. “I think you do, Susan. I think you do know what I'm talking about. I think you saw him." Susan shook her head slowly and whispered, “No, Jake." He pressed his advantage. “Yes. That's what you're withholding from me, isn't it Susan? That's what I think you're hiding. Because you know something, I can feel it." “No, nothing.” Get him out of here, Susan. Now. She stopped backing up, dredging up anger to give her some defense. “Out. Out of my apartment now, Jake. Right now." He held out his hands as if he would surrender. “Come on Susan, don't make me leave. You said you would answer any questions I asked you." “And I have. Now you can leave.” She pointed to the door. “Or I'm calling the cops.” She stumbled a bit on that one and saw him start to smile. “The other ones. Get out.” She marched to the door and held it open. “What is going on here? What are you hiding? Because I know it's something, Susan. I know it's something and I want you to tell me what it is.” Jake ran his fingers through his hair, not moving towards the door. “I've answered your questions, Jake. If you have any others, please ask them to me. Otherwise, you need to leave. I'm starting to get insulted by your line of questioning.” Susan felt a twist of guilt run through her. She didn't want to lie to him but she couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth. “You'll answer any of my questions? How about this one?” Now he moved, but not out the door as she hoped. He walked to her, took the door out of her hands, and closed it instead. “Did you lie in bed last night, tossing and turning, your whole body aching for me, Susan love?” He framed her head in his hands and tipped her face up so she had to meet his gaze. “Because I did. I lay there in my bed, with an erection so hard you could have hung clothes on it. Aching for you.” He feathered a kiss across her lips. “So did you?" “Yes,” she whispered, feeling all her anger and guilt wash away with the touch of his lips. Suddenly, they weren't cop and witness. They were man and woman. Attraction swirled between them, igniting them both into a higher flame.
“I laid in bed without you last night and it was all I could do not to get in my car and drive over here.” His hands lightened their grip and he massaged her shoulders and neck. He leaned down for another kiss, his lips still gentle. Susan heard herself moan, her whole body flooding with excitement and anticipation. “I don't think we should do this,” she said. It sounded weak to her but she at least had the presence of mind to say it. “Really,” he said, running his lips across her cheek to her ear. Licking slowly up the outer ridge, he whispered, “Liar." “Jake.” Susan shivered as his tongue captured her earlobe and pulled it into her mouth. He released her, letting his teeth scrape across her sensitive skin. “Say you want me, Susan. I won't have you lie about not wanting this when morning comes." “I do want this Jake. I want you.” She tried to focus as his mouth suckled at her throat. “I've always wanted you. It's dangerous." “Oh yes, it's dangerous all right. But it doesn't make it any less real.” He drew back from her and tipped her head back up. She opened her eyes to his brown ones. “Say yes." Susan took a deep breath and said, “Yes,” on the exhale. His mouth crashed down on hers and they kissed deeply. His tongue stroked along hers, his hands at the buttons of her blouse. His fingers fumbled but he stuck with it until he finally pushed the fabric free of her shoulders. He stepped back, capturing her hand to pull her towards the couch. Sitting on the arm, he looked at her standing there in her simple white bra. “I rushed last time. I want to look at you.” Susan tried to shake off the feeling of embarrassment that came over her as she stood there before him. The look on his face told her he liked what he saw. Her nipples tightened into strong peaks in response. He grabbed her other hand and pulled her closer. Bending down, he ran his tongue along her right nipple, wetting the cotton cloth, the friction different from anything else she'd ever felt. He suckled her, bringing in as much of her breast as he could. Susan cried out at the sharp sensation. When his mouth moved away to the other side, she saw that the wet mark on her bra highlighted her dusk colored nipple through the cloth. “God you have beautiful nipples,” he whispered, his breath blowing across the wet material to make her shiver. He stroked across her one more time before pulling up to kiss her lips. Jake's hands went to the top of her pants and she realized that she would be naked before he even had his shirt off if she didn't take the initiative. Her hands pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders and he shrugged to let it fall to the floor. His fingers returned to the top of her pants, unzipping them as she pulled at the knot on his tie. Her hands struggled to cooperate. She was trying to kiss him, feel his hands on her waist, and take off his tie at the same time. She was on overload. “Wait!” she said, pulling back from his mouth and batting at his hands. “I get to get your tie and shirt off before you can take off my pants."
“Oh sorry, I didn't know that rule.” He grinned at her, then slid his belt free and shrugged out of his shoulder holster, letting it drop onto the floor. “I'll provide you with a copy of the manual tomorrow.” His tie loosened and she tossed it over the sofa. Then she undid the buttons on his shirt, one after the other, her hands working as fast as they could. “Umm,” she hummed in appreciation as she opened his shirt. He had the best chest on any man she'd ever seen. When his chest was bare, she leaned down to run her cheek across him. Turning her head, she took one of his nipples into her mouth, sucking lightly. He moaned. For a moment, as she swished her tongue across the tightened tip, she thought about how she was getting to know what he liked in bed. She wanted to please him, wanted him to be in her power, wanted him to please her. It was a strange feeling. Jake unbuttoned the cuffs and let his shirt fall back onto the sofa. “My turn,” he said, reaching for the top of her pants. He only had to pull them off her hips and down to the floor. Susan stepped out of her heels and pulled off her trouser socks as she discarded her pants. “Stop. I want to see you this time.” His gaze raked her body. “I went too fast before and didn't get to see you in those yellow panties of mine." “Of yours?" “You gave them to me,” he said, raising his head to grin up at her. “I know you didn't mean it but a card laid is a card played. I'm not giving them back." “Jake,” she said, trying to make her tone a warning. “Susan,” he said back, running his hands down her body and then back up to slide across the outside of her underwear. “What on earth are you going to do with a pair of women's panties?" “Frame them and put them on my bedroom wall." “No! You wouldn't!" “Of course I wouldn't.” He grinned at her. “But you'd better come over to my place regularly to check, just to make sure." She narrowed her eyes at him. “That's blackmail." “Isn't it though?” Jake reached up and undid the clasp between her breasts with a flick of his wrist. “Oh yeah,” he whispered as he leaned down to kiss her breasts again. “Pants,” she said. “I get to take off your pants now.” At his groan, she added, “Fair's fair.” Jake stood so she could undo the zipper and slide them off his hips. He reached back to catch a condom out of his pocket as they fell. “You're sure of yourself." “Just hopeful.” He lightly flicked her nipple with the foil packet, making her gasp. She pulled down his boxers and slid off her underwear. Then he grabbed her close and fell backwards over the sofa arm onto his back. Susan landed sprawled across his chest, letting out a surprised gasp.
He ripped open the foil packet and rolled on the condom. His fingers found her clitoris and then slid into her body, making her groan. He pulled her into a sitting position. “Ride me. I want to watch you come.” Susan adjusted herself on the sofa and then took his shaft into her hands. Rising up on her knees, she slid his head back and forth across her opening, picking up the wetness, before she worked him inside her. She only took in his head then leaned forward to rest her forehead on his chest. He tried to push up, but she raised herself away from him. “Susan,” he groaned. She raised her head and captured his lips with hers, leaving herself at the top of his erection. “Feels good, doesn't it?" “Yes,” he ground out, pushing up again. She moved away. She squeezed her internal muscles on his large head and he cried out. Careful not to take any more of him inside her, she leaned back to roll his testicles in her hands. She lightly closed them in her hand, tugging them, as she lowered herself a little more onto him. “Susan." She leaned down to hear him better. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, his hands moving to her hips, “but I'm not in the mood to play.” He pulled down hard as his cock rammed up, bringing him home, making them both cry out. For a second, they both stayed still, then Susan moved, using her leg muscles to rise up and down his shaft. Every time she came down, she ground her clitoris into his body and felt herself edge closer to release. She had to find release. It built inside of her—up, up, up—until she couldn't stand it any more. God she needed it so badly. Jake's hands grabbed her hips and helped them keep in time with one another. They were both close—she could feel it. Then he thrust up into her as she came down. That was all she needed. “Jake,” she cried, as an orgasm raced through her body. Another climax hit her as she felt him start to come. She cried out again. Then she crumpled forward to rest on his chest, feeling tremors shake through her body with little aftershocks of pleasure. Finally, Jake pulled out of her body and rolled to his side, tucking her against him. “God, Susan, you're amazing,” he said, kissing her hair and holding her tight. **** Jake left with obvious reluctance. She had convinced him he needed to leave, mainly so she could think things through. “All right Susan, I'm going but I can tell you right now that I'll be back. Lock the door behind me. And keep your eyes open.” Pausing at the door, he planted a kiss on her lips. Susan felt the electricity arc between them like a slap. She wondered if that would ever change or if it would always be like that between them. He raised his head and gazed down at her for a second before saying, “You may not have known him, but Jim Daugherty is dead. Don't let his killer go free if you know something that might help us. Nothing's worth that." “Nice guilt trip, Matherly. Now get out of my apartment.” She closed the door after him before she
changed her mind and did something even more stupid than she just had—like beg him to stay. His guilt trip over what she had Seen in the basement was working, for all her bravado. Susan went back to the mantel over the non-working fireplace and touched her box collection, lifting the lids as Jake had. She loved this box collection. There were thirty boxes total, one for every year of her life. Each one different and most of them had things inside them that went along with the theme of the box. Her grandmother had started it, but after she had died, Susan had continued to buy the little boxes each year as a Christmas present for herself. She had put them on the Christmas list she gave her mother year after year, but had finally stopped when she realized her mother wasn't going to buy them for her. Susan wasn't the only person her mother had been angry with about the True Seeing. Gran had caught the brunt of her mother's anger as well. As far as her mother was concerned, Gran's genetics had caused this abomination. All of a sudden, she missed her grandmother. She wished Gran was still alive so she could ask her advice. Her grandmother had been the only person to believe her about the Seeing and still love her despite it. She remembered the first conversation they had about it, when she was thirteen or fourteen, in her grandmother's kitchen. **** "Gran,” Susan said, “I have something I want to talk to you about, but Mother says I shouldn't tell anyone.” Susan had thought long and hard for the whole week she had been visiting her grandmother about whether or not to talk to her about it. Since she was leaving tomorrow, the opportunity to share her concerns with Gran would be lost. "Oh?” Gran said, rolling dough out on the floured countertop. “You know you can always talk to me about anything, Susan. You can tell me anything and it will be kept only between us." "Mother says I'm making it up but I'm not, Gran." "Making what up, dear?” Gran got out a drinking glass and used it to cut circles of dough to make biscuits for dinner. "Well, sometimes I See things, Gran. Things that have happened to people.” Susan picked up the two flamingos that were Gran's salt and pepper shakers. “Like a movie, in my head." "Hmmm,” Gran said, looking up from the dough, her always-busy hands stopped in mid-motion. “So. You have the gift of True Seeing, do you?” At Susan's look of surprise, Gran had laughed. “You didn't think you were the only one? No, no. My sister and your great-great grandmother both had that gift.” Gran's face turned grave. “And it's a scary gift to have, Susan." "It is Gran,” Susan voice was serious despite her young age. She had known from the first time it had happened that it was a big responsibility. She felt a myriad of emotions flow through her. Relief that she wasn't the only one with this gift was foremost in her mind. But even if she wasn't the only one, that didn't help her with her current problem. She lifted her worried face to her grandmother's. “I See things that no one wants me to. Like the fact that mother had sex with Mr. Johnson in the choir room at school.” She steeled herself for her grandmother's disbelief. Susan's mother wasn't the type to do that kind of thing. Susan's dad had left two years earlier because her mother had been ‘cold.’ Because, Susan reasoned, she wasn't the type of woman to have sex in the choir room.
"Who is Mr. Johnson?” Gran asked, her voice holding no judgment for her daughter's actions. Gran didn't judge anyone. Susan was relieved that she had been believed so easily. "My choir teacher. I told Mother I Saw it, but she said I was lying, Gran.” Susan felt tears welling up. “I told her I See all kinds of things, like when Billy Henson told the whole class he fell out of the tree and broke his leg but his father really pushed him down the stairs. But when I told Mother, she slapped my face and told me I was lying.” Susan raised her face to look at her grandmother, her lips trembling. “I'm not lying, Gran." Gran came over and leaned against the countertop where she was sitting on a stool. “Susan dear, I know you aren't. But you have a terrible gift. No one wants their memories stolen, which is basically what you are doing. That is what scares your mother and will scare anyone you tell about this. Your mother knows she shouldn't have slept with Mr. Johnson and you knowing about it makes her defensive and angry." "But what should I do, Gran? I can't stop the visions, I've tried." "You don't have to stop them Susan.” Her grandmother's face was kind and understanding. “You're probably right that you can't stop them. But what you can stop is talking about them. People have a right to their secrets, Susan. You should never tell people what you See." "But,” Susan felt tears slide down her cheeks, “Gran, sometimes I See terrible things." Gran hugged her tight, rubbing her back with her hands. “I know you do, Susan. And it's a terrible burden for you to carry.” Her grandmother pulled back to tuck a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “But no one will ever thank you for repeating their secrets." **** Gran hadn't known very much about True Seeing and hadn't been able to help her with understanding her gift. So she had stumbled along on her own, only going to her Gran when she didn't know what else to do or had Seen something particularly disturbing. Susan knew that Jake wouldn't thank her if she told him she knew what had happened between his parents. But the vision with the murderer was different, wasn't it? This would solve a murder. No it won't. All you Saw was a man in a yellow raincoat, Susan. That's it. They can't solve a murder from that. Susan lifted the lid of a box that looked like a Christmas present and looked inside at the tiny China teddy bear. This box was her favorite out of all the ones her Gran had given her. “You've given me many things, Gran. But good advice was the best gift out of them all. I'll follow it and keep everyone's secrets,” she said to herself, feeling peace come over her with her decision. Chapter Seven
Jake and Gordon walked up to the Woodbridge apartment complex together. Gordon had been waiting for Jake when he got out of his car. The bastard. He lives 10 miles further from here than I do. “Do you sleep in your clothes, Gordon? Is that how you do it? Just constantly stay in that suit?" Gordon smiled, his bald head reflecting the rising sun. “Now Detective Matherly,” he said, in a fresh, singsong voice he used when he wanted to get on Jake's nerves in the morning. “You know I would never treat my suits with such disrespect."
Jake growled at him as they walked around the building to the Dumpster area in back. They were latecomers to the scene, since they had been called in as a courtesy by dispatch. These apartments were more rundown than the ones Susan lived in, even though they were only a couple miles apart. Constructed in the seventies, they looked like they were made to fit into the woods surrounding them. At the time, that must have been a hip thing to do, but by today's standards, they were dark and ugly. The small windows alone meant that the apartments would have little natural lighting and moss seemed to be taking over parts of the dark brown siding. Jake and Gordon walked to Detective Jerry Martel. “You catch this one?” Jake wasn't a big fan of Martel but tried to keep his feelings to himself. As a detective, Martel was known around the station as average at best. In social situations, Jake avoided the fifty-something, born-again Christian whenever possible. Martel had once cornered him for thirty minutes at a funeral to talk about Jake's eternal soul. Jake believed in God but he also believed that people who pushed their religious views on others were a large pain in the ass. “Yep,” Martel replied, turning to face them. “I paged you so you could see it. Victim's throat was cut.” Martel's hands flapped when he talked, every other word or so punctuated with a wave, as if he was conducting an orchestra. “Describe the victim for me, Detective Martel, sir,” Gordon said, his voice still jovial since he'd succeeded in getting a rise out of Jake. “White, female, mid-forties. Throat cut. She was found behind the Dumpster. Tenant saw her this morning when he was taking out his garbage.” His hands moved on the words ‘white,’ ‘forties,’ ‘cut,’ ‘Dumpster.’ Jake had to wrench his thoughts back to what the man said, forcing himself to ignore Martel's hands. “Any stab wounds to the body?” Gordon asked, all business now. “Not that we've seen so far. Someone cut her neck all the way to the spine. She bled out somewhere else and was dumped here. She's been dead since late last night or early this morning. ME puts it between eleven and three." “She have any other wounds?" “Besides a wicked bruise on her cheek, the neck wound looks like her only one." “Shit,” Jake said, his disgust evident. “Yes, Detective Matherly, I believe you are correct,” Gordon replied. Gordon took out his notebook and began to take notes. “What's got you two all hot and bothered?” Martel asked. Martel was not the brightest guy on anyone's block. Jake remembered an incident last year when Martel put a knife into a paper evidence bag, instead of the double-ply plastic ones, and checked it into the property room. The results of his goof were a desk clerk with ten stitches and a knife too contaminated to use at trial. Martel had gotten a speech about how sharp-edged items will often cut through paper. “What has gotten Detective Matherly all in a tizzy is that we didn't release to the press that our vic had other stab wounds."
“So? Maybe this woman has some other wounds too, ones we can't see with all the blood on her clothes." “Forty others, Martel?” Jake let the sarcasm drip just a little. Even Martel would probably not miss forty other stab wounds, but he guessed anything was possible. “Forty she don't have,” Martel answered, his head nodding a bit, hands directing the violin section through what looked like a difficult section. Maybe it showed how nervous he was, depending on the speed. “But she could have a few." The three men watched the medical examiner take pictures of the body. “Different age, different sex, different wounds,” Jake said to Gordon. The woman on the ground was dressed in clothing a forty-year-old wouldn't usually wear. Short jeans skirt, fishnet hose and a tank top were not standard October clothing. Her hair had the look hair sometimes gets from too many bleach treatments, kind of burnt-out and tired looking. Jake couldn't see her face but noticed with a twist in his gut that she only had one shoe on. He hoped that death treated him better than this. He didn't want to die wearing only one shoe. “Not many people switch to gentler killing,” Gordon observed, his voice pitched as if he was talking about the weather. “Still, we don't know. Maybe he was interrupted." “Could be. We'll know more about the knife, at least, when we get the ME's report back.” Jake felt antsy and off center. Don Waters, the medical examiner, had told him the bad news this morning. Besides one hair stuck to the outside of Daugherty's blood soaked shirt, they hadn't gotten a single hair or fiber from the scene that could give them a clue about their guy. They did know about what type of knife was used. It could be any one of the large ones with a slight serrated edge bought to carve turkeys at Thanksgiving. And they knew from the wounds that the person who did it was a little over six feet tall and strong. Unless Zena, Warrior Princess, had come to life, it was a sure bet it was a man. Of course, they had other bits and pieces they could rely on. The textbooks said he was almost certainly white, since the victim was white. People tend to kill within their own race, unless the murder was racially motivated, which was unlikely here. White people weren't usually killed because of their color. And they knew from the wounds that their perp was one very, very angry guy. There hadn't been any hesitation marks, which would have indicated that the murderer wasn't convinced he wanted to kill the victim. Forty deep slashes and stabs meant the perp had some anger management issues. But they had nothing that linked the dead man to anything that might have caused his early demise. The vic had drawn a blank on bad habits and angry enemies, although they were still chasing that side of it down. Maybe something would turn up but Jake thought it would be a dead end. He had meant it when he told Susan that the guy could be Ward Cleaver. There was a chance that it was one of the tenants in the building. Jake thought killing someone for unauthorized use of the building's washers was a little over the top, but people had killed for less reason than that. They hadn't found anyone who admitted to knowing Daugherty. The only tenants that had set off any bells were Robb Connors and Paul Parker, but Jake wasn't sure he was being objective about either of them. He might be suspicious of Robb because he had scared Susan and he had lied during his statement. But many people who weren't killers lied to the police or confused facts out of nervousness. Mr. Parker had acted strangely during their interview, but he might just be a nut case. Sadly, there were no laws against that. “For now, we'll play it as if this one was killed by the same guy,” Gordon was saying, his voice pitched
low so it didn't carry to the rest of the people at the scene. “We'll have to consider them both related until we get the ME's report and we can conclusively find that they had different killers. It's too much of a coincidence that we have two people dead with their throats cut in less than a week." The three men stood looking at the Dumpster, unaware they mimicked each other, posed with their hands on their hips, their stances reflective. **** Susan picked up the phone in her office when it rang, her mind still on the conversation she'd had with one of her clients. He'd given her a hard time over how long it was taking to put together a contract for his small printing firm. It was standard boilerplate he could use with his clients for their printing jobs. She rarely did this kind of work anymore and now she remembered why. She preferred working with one or two big clients, helping them negotiate partnerships with other businesses and reviewing their contracts and even their web-site content. Interesting and big enough so people don't go all petty on you. So she answered the phone with a bit more sharpness than she normally would, saying, “Rivers." “Susan love, you sound like you're ready to take a bite out of someone.” Jake's voice flowed over the line, making her shiver. “I'll do the world a favor and volunteer." “Nice, Jake. But I suggest you stay away from me. I'm having a hellish day.” Susan looked at the plaque hanging on her wall beside the door that Briles had given her for her birthday. It said, “The problem with the rat race is that even if you win, you're still a rat.” It was tastefully done in dark wood with silver plating and most people thought it was some sort of civic award until they leaned close to read the writing. She was in the mood to agree with it today. “And it's only Thursday afternoon, too. Bet you wish it was Friday and you were going out on a date with me." Susan smiled, despite herself. Be firm, her little voice warned, even as her stomach did a joyful jig. You will not have him again. You have sworn him off because you know you will slip up and tell your secrets if you come within a mile of him. Either that or jump in bed with him again. “Sorry, I'm unable to go on a date with you Friday night." “Busy?” Jake sounded angry, but maybe not. She was having trouble reading his mood without seeing his face. Not that it mattered, she hastily assured herself. “Very." She heard him sigh. “Why do I get the feeling I've taken a giant step back?" “I have no idea. Did you call for a reason? Other than that one?" He sighed again. “Lord, you're difficult.” She heard him cover the phone and say something to another person that sounded like ‘coffee, black’ but she wasn't sure. “Sorry. Actually, I did call for another reason.” He paused for a second and Susan listed to the line hum while he seemed to debate what to tell her. “There was another murder, this time at Woodbridge Apartments." Susan felt a ripple of unease curl through her. “When?" “Last night, late."
“The same person killed them both?" “We're not sure. I don't think so but if we were taking a poll around the station, I'd be out-voted. I'd offer to move in and keep you safe, but you'd just think it was an elaborate scheme on my part to hit on you.” His voice was joking, but underneath, Susan heard his concern. “I'll be careful, Jake." “Do. Keep your doors locked and don't let anyone in without knowing who's there first." “Okay.” Susan looked up to see one of the firm's partners standing at the glass beside her office door. “Look, I need to go. I'll talk to you later." “I'll look forward to it.” His voice was smooth and pitched to make her shiver again. She was glad he couldn't see her or he'd know how impacted she was by him. “Jake?” Susan waved to the man at the door, signaling for him to come in. “Yes?" “Thanks for calling me.” She hung up the phone and looked up to smile at the man coming into her office. As she reached for a pen, Susan saw the slight shake in her hand that signaled nerves that had nothing to do with another murder. **** Jake hung up his desk phone then immediately picked it back up and called a number he'd underlined in the phone book in front of him. He introduced himself to the woman that answered and asked to speak with Margaret Westbrook. “This is she,” she said, her voice holding that usual oh-shit-it's-a-cop reluctance. “Ms. Westbrook, do you know Robb Connors?" “Yes, actually, I do." “Did you speak to him Sunday night?" “Yes, I did. He called me for about the hundredth time to ask me out on a date. The guy is completely annoying." “Do you know him well?" “We work together." “Where do you work?" “Why? What's this about?" “Someone was murdered at his apartment complex. This is just a routine alibi check." “I work at The Copy Center on South Broad Street. Robb's the manager there. I've considered turning
him in for sexual harassment, he's been such a pest." “Out of curiosity, Ms. Westbrook, why haven't you?" “Well,” she paused, reluctant to tell him. “I did go out on a date with him a couple months ago, but after that I've told him no each time. I've told him to leave me alone, but he keeps calling. I flat out told him that he wasn't my type and that I wanted him to back off." “Has his behavior been physically threatening in any way? Or has he threatened you verbally?" “That's just it, Detective. It hasn't been threatening at all. It's as if he doesn't get it. He calls and asks me out like he's never heard me say no before." “When was the last time you saw him?" “Saturday, at work. Did he murder someone?" “This is routine, Ms. Westbrook. How long was your conversation?" “As short as I could make it, I promise you. No more than five minutes or so." “When did he call you?" “I guess around seven or so.” Jake thought for a second. That meant Robb had between seven and nine to go down to the basement. It was enough time for him to be the murderer. Jake jotted himself a note to pull Robb's phone records. Jake gave her his phone number in case she wanted to reach him again and thanked her for her time. He made notes on the call and then stuffed them into the file. Picking up the phone, he called Susan's neighbor, Ellie, to see if she was a little calmer than she had been on Sunday. He ended up leaving a message on her machine. **** “Susan!” A voice called to her across the parking lot. Susan turned to see Georgia Witherspoon walking out of the stairwell. Her tall, slim next-door neighbor had an aura about her that said she was together, confident, going some place. She and Susan hadn't become friends, although Susan had made overtures when Georgia first moved into the apartments. Her neighbor had been too busy working long hours and volunteering for everything under the sun to go out for fun. The blond beauty had more things going on in a week than Susan did in a month. The only strange thing was that she was busy with everything but dating. In the months they'd lived next to each other, Susan had never seen her with a date. Then again, Susan hadn't had a date the whole time either, so what did she know? “Hey Georgia.” Susan walked over to her. “I'm surprised to see you here during the day.” Susan came home to eat lunch once or twice a week. This week, she had come home almost every day. She didn't want to answer people's questions about the murders. It was as if she was suddenly an expert on stabbings because she had found the first victim. Since the newspapers were full of news linking the two murders, she had been everyone's favorite person to corner and chat about the ‘Apartment Slasher.’ Thank God it's Friday.
“Ever since my brother came to live with me, I've been dying for some me-time.” Georgia said with a sigh, her perky smile still in place. “You know, I don't think I've met your brother." “Samuel's only living with me temporarily. This is going to sound horrible, but I'm hoping he'll be out of here within the next week or so. He's in adult daycare during the day so I've to get him up early and have him at the center. You must be working late hours to miss us in the evenings. I'm home almost every night since he moved in. I've had to cut out all my volunteer work.” Georgia looked out over the parking lot, not meeting Susan's gaze. “My brother's mentally challenged so I can't leave him by himself for very long." Susan's heart went out to her neighbor. To have to look after a mentally handicapped brother at the age of 24 would be more than a challenge. It sounded like caring for her brother had rearranged Georgia's life. Maybe not having any family had some up sides. “I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do? I could look after him while you go out one night, if you'd like." “Thanks Susan, that's truly sweet. I'm hoping to have him in a group home within the next week or two. The insurance ran out so quickly when my father died that I didn't have time to find something new before they released him from the last program. The State has a ton of paperwork I have to file before I can get him into a home and it's a six week process at best.” Georgia's serious face turned lighter. “But it's almost over, God forgive me for saying it. I never thought I'd be taking care of my brother like this.” Georgia's gaze roamed the parking lot without settling on any one thing. “If you're really serious about coming over to watch him for me, I would be indebted to you forever. Especially if you would come over Sunday night and spell me for an hour or two while I go grocery shopping." “Sure. I'm free starting around six.” Susan was glad she could help. Even if they weren't that close, Susan really liked her neighbor and wanted to give her any support she could. “Seven o'clock too late for you?” When Susan shook her head, Georgia said, “This is awesome! You are a complete lifesaver. Hey! I heard you found that body in the laundry room." “Oh Georgia, please don't ask. I've had to talk about it so much in the last week that I am completely sick of the subject. I've been hiding out during my lunch break so I won't have to rehash the whole thing." “Okay, I'll leave you alone. But I have to tell you I told the police it was Robb Connors." “Georgia!” Susan felt inappropriate laughter bubble up. “He showed up Sunday afternoon to ask me out again and I had to get bitchy with him to get him to leave." Susan couldn't help but grin. “Let me guess—tickets to a concert Monday night?" Georgia smiled back. “You too?" “Yeah but I must be slipping, because he didn't ask me until after he'd asked you. Next time I see him, I'll point out that you love him more so he can forget about me." “Do it and die. That guy is such an asshole. He got my brother all riled up on Sunday when he wouldn't get out of my apartment and I had to start threatening him with the police. Samuel was so upset that he
sat and rocked for hours after he left." “That's horrible!” Susan thought Jake might be right—Robb was getting more aggressive. “Did you tell that to the police?” Susan thought she'd never look at Robb the same way again. “They never asked me about it." “They didn't?” Susan was irritated that Jake had given her a big guilt trip when they hadn't even questioned all her neighbors, as he'd led her to believe. She was tempted to call him up and give him a little lecture. Maybe she would tonight. Susan hoped she wasn't making up an excuse to call him. “They asked me where I was, so I said out with a date. Like I'd need an alibi? According to the papers, the guy was twice my weight if he was a pound. As if I'd kill some stranger in the laundry room.” Georgia looked offended. “Then they asked if I'd seen anything suspicious on Sunday so I said that yes I had. I told them that I saw Robb wandering around looking like he was up to something. I had to go out of my way to slip it into the conversation but it was worth it if someone questioned him.” Georgia laughed a little evilly at the thought of Robb facing the police then looked at her watch. “God, where does lunch time go? Too bad we don't follow the Mexican custom of siesta. I could use about three more hours to myself." Susan said goodbye. She wasn't at all sure she thought it was a good idea to implicate your neighbor in a murder, even if he was an ass, but it was starting to sound like Robb was out of control. Maybe he was dangerous. She got into her car and started the short drive back to her office. She only had to get through four more hours at work and then she would be free for the weekend. Free to show up at Jake's place and jump his body again. Susan stomped on the brakes reflexively. Where had that thought come from? God she was losing it. “No more Jake Matherly, Susan Rivers. That boy is poison. Skull and crossbones. Keep off. No touching. Period.” She repeated this for the rest of the drive, desperately trying to convince herself. The problem was that she didn't just want Jake's body, she wanted all of him. And she couldn't have that type of relationship with her True Seeing standing like a secret rock between them. Still, she rationalized as she parked her car, she'd call him and at least tell him about her conversation with Georgia. She got out of her car and slammed the door. You're making this into a bigger deal than it is because you want to hear the sound of his voice. Pathetic, Susan, really pathetic. **** After work, Susan turned down her friends’ invitation to go dancing. Briles and Courtney were concerned for her and wanted to help take her mind off things, but she was beat. She hadn't been sleeping very well in the last week and she wanted to go home and curl up with a good book and a bottle of wine. It would help her sleep. And she could sleep in to cure the inevitable hangover wine gave her before she did her Saturday clean-the-apartment ritual. She would now have to add laundry to her list, since she hadn't gotten it done last weekend. The thought of facing the laundry room had her debating whether or not she should take her laundry someplace else. She'd call Briles tomorrow and see if she could wash her clothes over there. For a moment, she considered taking her clothes to another building to do her wash, but then ditched that idea. All the basements probably looked the same and that would be way too creepy for her.
She also had a little niggling thought that Jim Daugherty's memories might be floating around down in the basement, almost like his ghost hovered there, waiting for her. She knew it was ridiculous to feel that way, but she still couldn't get it out of her mind. She would rather not have another peek at the end of Jim's life. **** Jake watched Susan's two friends as they walked into Buddy's later that night and spent the next ten minutes waiting for Susan to show up. He looked at his watch for the tenth time. A little after ten o'clock. Where was she? “Hey Jake, want to give me an introduction?" “What?” Jake looked at the rest of the men at the table. Except for Gordon, they were all on the prowl. Gordon was happily married to a nurse who would soon give birth to his second child. Gordon's wife was a saint. She had Jake over to supper every couple weeks and was very patient with Gordon's intensity and love for his job. Every time he visited, Jake felt jealous. Growing up in his aunt's house hadn't been bad but he had still been an outsider—someone thrust upon her without a choice. He had always longed for a normal family. He wanted to marry someone wonderful and settle down in a house with a white picket fence. He didn't care that most men would laugh at him. Jake couldn't understand why so many of his friends were scared of commitment. He always thought it was because they didn't understand what it felt like to grow up without a family. Most people didn't appreciate what they had but Jake had long ago promised himself that he would always be grateful if he ever got a real home. And he knew who he would like to see across the dinner table every night, if she would quit fighting him every step of the way. Jake had already decided that he was done going slow with her. Although he'd left without the answers he needed the other night and hadn't pushed her for a date on the phone yesterday. So maybe he was still going a little slow. And it disturbed him more than he liked to admit that he had let his feelings for her get in the way of doing his job, even though he didn't think that it was impacting the case. Yet. “Earth to Jake,” one of the guys said, waving his hand in Jake's face. “Introduce me to the two hotties over at the next table." Jake looked over at Susan's friends warily. “I don't think I can remember their names." “You left with their friend the other night, Matherly. Surely you can get us an introduction?" “You're on your own with those two. Just walk up and introduce yourself. That should be enough.” He watched as two of the guys took his advice and went over. Gordon looked at him. “I thought you were sweet on the woman from the first murder scene.” His eyebrows were arched, his face interested. It was the look Gordon gave when he was trying to be friendly during an interrogation. “Gordon, no one uses the word ‘sweet’ anymore.” Jake grinned at him, taking a swig from his beer. “It's like the word ‘courting.’ That's not used either." “I don't know why. Courting is very descriptive. I would have said you were courting Miss Rivers, but I
guess I was wrong." “What's your definition of courting?” Jake had a niggling suspicion Gordon's definition might be different from his own. “Between dating and getting married. Going steady, if you will." “Whoa, now. That's extreme.” Jake took a more cautious sip from his beer bottle. “Actually, it was Miss Rivers that I escorted home.” Jake flashed another grin, pleased that he had worked in the old-fashioned word ‘escorted.’ Gordon's eyes sharpened a tad into a look Jake had seen many times before. This was the first time it had been used with him, though. “And why did you do that, Jake? Did it have anything to do with this case?" Jake suddenly had the feeling that Gordon knew something was up; that possibly he knew Susan's statement was off. Gordon wasn't the type of detective to let something like that drop. He sighed, glad that the two other guys at the table had left them alone to investigate the apparent success the first two were having with Susan's friends. He took a long, bracing drag of his beer and faced Gordon. “I had another round with her about her statement.” Gordon's shock was real, so real that Jake cursed himself up, down, and sideways. His partner hadn't suspected something was off on her statement. But now, thanks to his big mouth, he did. “Shit. You prying bastard." “What's wrong with her statement, Jake?” Gordon's voice was low and patient. And angry. “Shit.” Jake took another sip of his beer. Full confession time. “Something's up there. I know her well enough to know she's holding something back." “Any idea what?" “I don't know.” Jake shrugged. “I almost had her the other night before she kicked me out of her apartment.” That wasn't exactly true, but when he'd decided to give Gordon a full confession, it didn't include what had happened on the sofa. That was none of Gordon's business. “This is what happens when you date people involved in your cases, Jake,” Gordon said piously. Jake was incensed. “How in the hell was I supposed to know she'd leave my place and go find a dead body in her apartment laundry room? It's the same as if your wife found him." Gordon looked at him, interested again. “You are comparing her to my wife?" Jake's gaze locked onto his. “I guess I am, Miles.” Jake took another sip of beer. “I guess I am." Gordon grinned. “Courting, Jake." “Shit,” Jake said, this time with a sad undertone. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be courting someone who withheld information from him. He didn't want to date someone with secrets, even though he felt somewhat like a hypocrite because he had a few secrets of his own. Gordon's face turned serious. “Any idea what she's holding back?"
Jake was glad that Gordon was getting them back on solid ground. “I don't know. I could be wrong about her hiding something, I guess.” Jake mulled it over for a second. “But I don't think so. Her reaction was off. And she reacted with guilt when I said that we were out of leads and a murderer could go free." “It's true that we are out of leads,” Gordon said, taking a small sip of his red wine. Gordon knew quite a bit about wine, Jake thought. But somehow, he never came across as wimpy, for all that. Prim, almost fussy, but wimpy Gordon was not. “She's stubborn as hell, though. If I push her too hard, she won't give me jack." “You sound like you know that from experience." “Come on, Gordon. Eleven months of striking out for a date is experience enough. The lady has stubborn down to a science. But she'll do the right thing, eventually.” Jake drank the last of his beer. “Takes too long to come to the right decision, though. All I can do is be patient and keep nudging her in the right direction." “If it comes down to it, maybe I should give it a try,” Gordon suggested in his mildest voice. Jake looked at his empty bottle. “Let's give it a couple days and see what I can get from her." “If we're right, then we may have a couple of days. But if we're wrong, and the same perp did both victims, then we might have another body on our hands soon." “Gordon, you know the same person didn't do both victims. My God, who ever heard of someone switching up that much? They like to kill people the same way when it's as violent as the first vic. They weren't even killed using the same knives.” The ME's report said the woman was killed with a hunting knife, the type with huge serrated jags on both sides of the blade. “The papers think it's the same guy,” Gordon said, playing the devil's advocate. “The first guy was butchered. Someone really went after him, but the second only had her throat cut. What are the chances it's the same perp?" “About ninety-nine to one. We better hope the one doesn't win." Jake nodded. “Speaking of which, I had an interesting conversation yesterday with yet another woman that Robb Connors has been harassing. That guy really gets around. He's without an alibi for the hours during the first murder and he lied to me. I think maybe we should both go pay him a visit this weekend so you can let me know what you think about him." “I hate liars. They make everything take ten times longer when you question them." “The best part is that every time I challenged him on something he'd lied about, he rearranged his story." “Harassing women doesn't mean he's a murderer." “True. But he's got so many issues, I don't think we can rule him out. And he was there that night, right in his apartment." “Any connection that you've been able to find between Robb and the victim?"
“Besides both shopping at the local grocery store? Nope. Not a thing. Daugherty's girlfriend told me he switched buildings every other week when he did his laundry, too. Which makes me think that Robb and our victim hadn't met in the basement. The thing that bothers me is that no one had any motive to kill Jim Daugherty." “So we start from the beginning again. Reread the file. Re-canvass.” Gordon paused to take the last sip of his wine. “But first, we'll go talk to Robb again." “What about Paul Parker?" “Him, too." Jake thought about Gordon's threat to talk with Susan as he got his wallet out to pay the tab. He wasn't about to let Susan face Gordon, if he could help it. Gordon may never raise his voice or lose his temper but he could bring a giant to tears and a sociopath to a confession. And Jake didn't like the thought of Susan in the interrogation box with him. Jake knew he had to work a little harder to uncap the lid holding down all her secrets. Gordon wouldn't wait much longer. Chapter Eight
Susan heard the knock right as she poured the last of the bottle of chardonnay into her glass. Company now would not be a good idea. She was three sheets, or maybe even four, to the wind and she demonstrated that by knocking into the coffee table as she went to get the door. She had to concentrate a little to undo the lock, but only a little, so she swung the door open with a sense of triumph. Who says I can't hold my alcohol! Her triumph was immediately squashed by Jake's furious voice as he charged past her into the apartment. “You didn't even check to see who it was!” He swung around and glared at her as she stood in mild shock at the whirling dervish that had exploded into her apartment. “A man gets killed in your building last weekend and you don't even check to see who you're letting in your apartment. I should make you take Safety for Idiots!" Susan slammed the door shut and walked toward Jake, irritated by his irritation and the intrusion into her quiet night. “Get a new attitude, Jake, or leave. You're ruining what had been a very nice wine buzz.” She walked over to the couch and sat down, picking up her wine glass in hopes of salvaging her evening. Jake walked over to pick up the empty bottle. “Having a little party for one, huh?” He raised an eyebrow at her, his mouth turning up then down, as if he couldn't decide whether he was amused or not. “Looks like you weren't kidding when you said you had a buzz." Susan looked at him over the rim of her glass as she took another sip and then said primly, “There's only four and a half glasses to each bottle. I'm not toasted, just a little brown on the edges.” She felt mellow, relaxed and floating. Wine always affected her this way, which was why she tended to drink beer. She didn't feel out of control like this when she drank Miller Lite. If she had known that she was having company, she would have made a different alcohol selection. “Go away if you can't be civil. I'm in too good a mood for you to spoil it right now."
“Looks like it.” Jake sat down on the coffee table in front of her. Susan flared up immediately. “Don't sit on my coffee table you heathen! People sit in chairs and on sofas, not on tables." “My, you do get school-teacherish when you get loaded, don't you?” Jake didn't seem worried by her show of temper. Susan drew herself up, offended. “I am not school-teacherish! I just wasn't raised in a barn, like others I know." Jake caught a wisp of her hair that had fallen forward across her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “My aunt would be aghast to know you think my manners are lacking. She tried hard to raise me right. But since I'm already in trouble for my manners, I think I'll go ahead and earn your bad opinion of me.” Jake grabbed the back of her head with a hand and kissed her, a soft brush of lips that immediately made her want more. Stop this, Susan. Don't give in to this. You need space from this man, not more intimacy. Jake's tongue slid into her mouth to touch hers enticingly. Oh shut up brain. Who needs you anyway? The mellow, floating feeling the wine had given her flooded back with a vengeance and Susan gave herself up to it, pulling him down to the sofa with her. **** They made their way steadily across the room and into her bedroom, shedding clothes along the way. Pinning her body against the wall beside her bathroom door, Jake pulled her legs around his body, ramming deep inside her. Moisture poured off their bodies as they came together. Susan painfully twisted her hand in his hair. He hissed at her and slammed home, making her moan with the impact. They both came together, with a quick violence that left them breathless. “Shower,” he said, when he raised his head to take a breath. “I want to see you wet." He carried her into the bathroom and turned on the tap without putting her down, his shaft still semi-erect inside of her. He released her slowly, sliding her down along his body to the floor. She leaned over to light the big candle on the back of the commode while he adjusted the water temperature. She stepped into the shower and then turned to watch him get in. She thought he looked amazing covered in a sweaty sheen. His body was perfect, she thought, as he leaned back with his eyes closed to wet his hair and back. Firelight danced over him and made his brown eyes amber as he met her gaze. Susan shampooed her hair and then his, pulling him down to his knees so she could reach him without having to stand on her tiptoes. He groaned with delight as she massaged his head. Susan couldn't help but laugh, he was so easy to pleasure. She washed the soap out of his hair and then forced herself to be still as he soaped her up. Desire washed over her as his hands ran over her breasts, down her ribcage to rest on her waist. She looked up into his face, letting him see her desire. His eyes were full of wanting and she nodded without even realizing that she had answered his silent request. Liquid heat pooled in her stomach and between her legs. Jake turned her around so that she was facing the wall of the shower. He leaned his fully aroused body into her, and ran his hands to her wrists. He placed her palms on the wall to balance them, running his fingers back down her arms, sliding over her breasts. He picked up the soap and began to wash her back, then her buttocks. He ran his hands
down to the top of her thighs and then rotated inward. She gasped as his soapy hands touched her core from behind. One thumb dipped into her and her body jerked around him. He moved away for a second, then grabbed her hips, turning her toward him. He pushed her up against the back of the shower, lifting and pinning her to the wall in one motion. His arms slipped between her legs to widen her and she wrapped them around his waist to anchor herself. He slid into her smoothly, opening her, and for a second Susan was distracted with the thought that he had soaped himself to make his entry easier and then she was lost in feeling. One of his hands stayed supporting her, the other slid between them to slip one finger onto her clitoris. He didn't move it, just left it holding her down. Susan closed her eyes so tightly, stars burst behind her lids. She was a mass of pulsing nerve endings, feeling him moving in and out of her. Her head fell back onto the wall as she climaxed. With one more stroke, she felt him come with her, the force of it rocking her soul. For a moment, she laid her forehead against his chest, unable to move. Jake's body lay against hers like a blanket. Aftershocks were still zinging through her. “We're losing the hot water, Susan. You'd better rinse all the soap off quick,” he whispered to her, his voice deeper than usual, tight from their lovemaking. He moved away as if he was reluctant to do so, switching their places to help her get clean. He reached around and shut off the spray right as the water went completely cold, causing her to jump back into him. He closed his arms around her and kissed her neck. She felt so right. **** It was the headache that woke her up, although the sun would have done it sooner or later. Yellow beams streamed through the window. She had forgotten to pull the shades down last night. She moved her head gingerly to look at the man beside her. She'd known who was in bed before she'd opened her eyes, just from the smell of him. For a second, she looked at him greedily. He was tangled in the sheets, one arm flung above his head, the other under her neck. Somehow, the sheet had fallen across his lap but otherwise he was as naked as a jaybird. Susan felt pure lust move through her. Susan felt so turned on that she lifted her hand to wake him. At that instant, reality crashed down and she realized they hadn't used protection last night. You wine-guzzling moron! Forcing herself not to panic, Susan looked at her ceiling and started counting days. She relaxed a bit when she figured out that she was in the clear. Probably. Thirty years old and she made a slip up most high school students knew better than to make. As if he read her mind, Jake spoke from beside her. “I'm thinking you should go on birth control.” He grinned at her boyishly when her head whipped in his direction. Susan was furious at herself and him. “What if I'm pregnant, you grinning ape?” She got up from the bed, dragging the sheet with her. She only got one step before she pulled up short. His body was still on one end of the sheet and he wasn't moving. “Then we'll have to get married, Susan love.” His reasonable tone pushed her further over the edge. He reclined lazily across her bed, showing her his body. She felt a zing of desire, but refused to be distracted. “Get married? Get married? What is this, the nineteenth century?” Susan tugged at the end of the sheet with fury. “I'm not marrying you!" Jake sat up, his face telling her that he was getting angry too. “The hell you wouldn't! You're not running
around with my baby not married to me." Susan's mouth dropped open. “Who are you, Conan the Barbarian? Get into the twenty-first century, Matherly! People don't get married because one of the parties happens to be pregnant." “They do if they're carrying my child!" “Are you nuts? I wouldn't marry you. I don't even know you. You're just some guy I've slept with.” Instantly, Susan knew she'd made a tactical error. The anger on Jake's face turned into rage and he was up from the bed standing naked before her. “Really, Susan. Just some guy you've slept with.” Susan began to back up when he advanced toward her, tripping on the sheet. “And how many other men have you slept with, Susan?" Something in his face made her answer honestly. “Two,” she whispered, feeling her back come against the wall. She had never seen him in this mood before. His voice was too reasonable for the fury in his face. “Two. So a total of three—one for each 10 years of your life.” Jake put his hands on either side of her to cage her in. “Sounds like you ho around a bunch, Susan. Sounds to me you take sex casually." “No! I..." “You what, Susan? I'll tell you what. You're full of it! That's what! I am not just some guy you are sleeping with.” His nose pressed to hers, his gaze snapping. Susan panicked. “I'm not getting married Jake. And I'm not having any children." “You should have thought about that before you dragged me into bed last night, shouldn't you?" “That's not fair.” Susan felt like crying but stamped it down. She wasn't a crier—she hadn't even cried the day her own mother declared that she was a freak. She would work through this as she did everything else in her life. Jake's tension drained from him all at once and he dropped his forehead to hers. “You're right, it isn't. I'm as much to blame as you are.” Susan stood still, wondering at his mood change. He looked back up at her. “Why aren't you planning on having kids?" Susan blinked for a second, trying to catch her thoughts. “I have a hereditary condition I can pass on.” She lifted her head in a gesture of righteousness. “I wouldn't put anyone through what I've had to live with so I'm not going to have any children. And why get married if you aren't going to have kids?" Jake's eyes narrowed. “What kind of condition?" “Don't worry. I can't give it to you.” Susan's tone was clipped. She was already regretting that she'd said anything. “I want to know what it is." Susan leaned her face into his. “None. Of. Your. Business.” Jake towered over her at his full height but Susan wasn't buying it. “Nice intimidation tactics but they won't work, big guy."
Jake grinned at her. “Fine. But you'll tell me, Susan love. Eventually. I give you my word you will." “I doubt it,” Susan said with spunk that she didn't feel. She grasped at straws, trying to come up with something to change the subject. “And another thing—don't try to make me feel guilty by telling me you guys are out of leads again Jake. Georgia said you hardly asked her any questions. She told me she had to force one of you to listen to her about Robb Connors." Jake's gaze sharpened, became more like the cop mask he sometimes wore. “What about Robb Connors?" “She had an incident with him Sunday afternoon where he wouldn't leave her apartment. It really shook up her brother ." “Her brother was in her apartment on Sunday?” Jake's body was still, complete concentration on his face as if he mentally flipped through his notes. “I told you he had moved in with her when you and Gordon questioned me about the basement.” Susan felt her worry rise up. “I'm starting to think Robb might be dangerous, Jake. I'm getting concerned about him." Jake nodded slowly. “Gordon and I are going to have a talk with him today. I'll need to go into the office later on tonight and check on some things.” He looked at his watch. “But I wouldn't mind spending the morning with you if you have time for me." Susan knew things weren't resolved between them and she knew Jake wouldn't let up until he knew her secret. She was beginning to see that he tended to circle back to things relentlessly. It must be some sort of cop tactic. For now, he was distracted, obviously thinking about other things. But at least they had both calmed down. Right now, she would take the tack that what would happen would happen in the pregnancy department. She couldn't do anything except worry, which wouldn't help the situation one bit. This is what happens when you think with your libido. She had a flash of pity for the males of the species, since they thought with the guy in their pants most of the time. For once, she understood how they could let it happen. **** The phone rang right as Susan got out of the shower. She'd had a little chat with herself as she washed her hair, realizing again how much danger she was in with Jake. Danger she hadn't faced since her boyfriend in college. Except this time was worse. She was old enough to know this wasn't a passing fancy. And Jake had proved earlier in her bedroom that he wasn't interested in casual sex. He would marry her if she were pregnant. That spoke volumes about his commitment level. But Susan wasn't sure she wanted a relationship. She didn't want to hide who she was from a person she was in love with. One of the best ways she knew to get rid of someone was to tell them her secret. Her own mother couldn't handle her ability to True See. Maybe she should tell him and watch him run. That would take care of everything. God, she already didn't want to lose him. She would take today and enjoy it, she promised herself. Just for one day, she would be normal. She hadn't had any visions with him since the first one. Maybe that was a sign—a sign that she should get one day with him to act like a normal couple would.
“Susan,” Jake called from the other room. “Are you going to get the phone?" “Oh,” Susan said, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. “Yes, I've got it.” She picked up the phone. “Hello?" “Susan,” said a breathy voice on the other end. “It's Briles. I need you to come get me." “Where are you?” Susan thought Briles sounded like she was in trouble. That meant she was in deep. Briles didn't panic until the cops or VD were involved. “I'm down in the Bottom at Millie's Diner. Come get me as fast as you can, okay?” She hung up the phone with a click. “Damn,” Susan said, throwing the phone onto the base and running for her dresser. Jake lounged in the doorway looking curious but she ignored him, throwing off her robe to put on underwear, jeans and a shirt as fast as she could, disregarding the twist of self-consciousness she felt at being naked in front of him. “Are we going somewhere, Susan love?” he asked. “Briles is in trouble. I've got to go pick her up.” Susan fumbled through a drawer for her socks. Did she only have pairs that didn't match? “I'll get my shoes.” He turned to go back into the living room. “Jake, I'm not sure you should come.” Jake turned back to her, calm in her storm. “Do you know what's wrong?" “No, but knowing Briles, it's probably guy-related." “If you don't know what's wrong, Susan, I'm coming.” He turned back into the living room. “You never know when you might need a cop with you." Susan didn't have time to fight him. She stepped into her tennis shoes without bothering to untie them and ran into the kitchen to get her keys. “I'll drive,” Jake said, standing with the door already open. They both jogged to the car and then got in. “Where to?" “Millie's in the Bottom.” Jake pulled the car out of the parking lot. “That's kind of a strange place to have an emergency, don't you think? Did she have too many Bloody Marys with brunch?” Millie's was one of the trendiest places to eat brunch in that part of town. “I'm trying not to think what trouble she's in. I'll deal with it when I get there.” Susan watched the monuments Richmond was famous for as they passed them. Author Ashe, then some guy she hadn't even heard of before she'd moved here, then Stonewall, facing North to keep an eye on the Yankees. “No. We'll both deal with it when we get there.” They rode the rest of the way in complete silence. When Jake pulled into the parking lot, Susan jumped out of the car before he'd had a chance to turn off
the engine. Briles came out of Millie's as she got to the front door. “Get me into the car,” Briles whispered, grabbing Susan's arm and hauling her back to Jake's car. Briles jumped in and slammed the door, leaving Susan staring across the hood at Jake, who had followed her out. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Same clothes as she had on last night,” he said. Susan had guessed that much herself. Briles’ hair wasn't styled and perfect, either. She'd obviously run her fingers through it to comb it out. She still wore the remains of her going-out makeup. Susan didn't get it. Briles always carried a brush and makeup in her purse. Why hadn't she fixed herself? Because she's lost her purse. Could it be that simple? “Let's see what the problem is,” she said, shaking her head. She'd known bringing him would be bad news. If this was guy trouble, Jake was about to get an ear full. Briles was acting too bizarre to have only lost her purse and had no keys to drive home. Closing her door at the same time Jake closed his, Susan turned to her friend, who sat holding her head in her hands. “What's wrong, Briles? What happened?" “I keep making the same mistakes over and over again, Susan. I don't know why I do it." “Where's your purse, Briles?" “At Benny's place.” Briles dropped her hands and turned her worried gaze to Susan's. “I left it when I woke up this morning with him." “What happened?" “I can't get him out of my life, Susan. Every time I see him, it's like my IQ drops forty points and if I've been drinking, that's it. I'm toast." “Don't beat yourself up about this.” Susan reached her hand over the seat back and took her friend's cold fingers in her own. “We all make mistakes." “Yeah, well, I've been making this mistake for two years now. That's beyond a simple boo-boo.” Susan felt Jake shift on the seat beside her, but ignored him. He'd insisted on being here so he could lump it. “At least you know he's a mistake, Briles. That's a start." “Oh great,” her friend rolled her eyes up to try to prevent the gathering tears from slipping free. “I've known he was a mistake for a year. I'm a complete loser, Susan." “Saying stuff like that won't help anything." “Shit,” Briles said, wiping tears away. “It's just that the sex is so damn good and he always says the right thing when I see him. When I'm away from him, I'm fine. But the minute I see him, all my good intentions go to hell.” She wiped at more tears and met Susan's gaze. “This morning, he told me that I always was a good lay. I flipped when he said it and ran out without my purse. I had to borrow the quarter I used to call you with.” She flopped her head back against the seat. “Now I'll have to cancel all my credit cards. Damn it!” she said, slamming her fist against Jake's back seat. Jake spoke for the first time. “Tell me where he lives and I'll go get your purse for you."
Briles opened her eyes and stared at him. “Would you?" “Yes." She nodded slowly. “Okay. He lives in that house down the street.” She pointed to the one. Jake put the car in gear and drove over to it. “The yellow one?” He asked, as he parked and opened his car door. Briles nodded. “You two stay here,” he said, giving Susan a warning look. Susan watched Jake walk up to the house. All at once, she realized that she trusted him to take care of this. She hadn't once thought about telling him it was too dangerous or that she would handle it. Jake could take care of himself. It was a weird feeling to trust someone else to take care of something she would normally be stuck doing. Susan gave Briles’ hand a squeeze. Her friend broke down and began to sob. She leaned over the seat to hold her. **** Jake banged on Benny's door with his cop knock. “I'm coming, I'm coming,” someone yelled back grumpily. Jake got out his badge and held it up in case Benny decided to check who was at his door through the peephole. He was betting Benny wasn't a cautious type of guy. The door swung open without a pause. “Are you Benny?” Jake asked, looking at the hulking man standing before him. Benny hadn't dressed this morning, preferring, Jake supposed, that lounge-in-your-boxers-on-a-Saturday look. The man before him had the feel of a mechanic or someone who did a lot of work with his upper body. Weights wouldn't give the general bulk Jake saw standing in the doorway without a shirt. Tattoos and a face only his mother could love completed the picture. Jake wondered, not for the first time, what caused good-looking women to fall for these kinds of guys. “Yeah, that's me. What's this about officer?" “I'm here to collect property left behind by,” Shit, Jake thought, I don't know her last name, “Briles. She claims she left her purse here?” He made it a question. “Yeah, the bitch left her purse here. Are you telling me she called the cops to come get it from me? Why the hell didn't she come get it herself?" “You tell me, Benny. Why do you think she's scared of you?” Benny truly looked perplexed. Jesus, this guy doesn't even know what a dick he was. He has no idea what his impact is on her. “I have no clue.” Benny scratched his chest, looking like he really didn't have any idea. “How about we leave it a mystery and you get her purse for me." “Okay.” Benny turned and lumbered off inside the house. Jake stood on the doorstep. “You know,” he
said when he returned, looking ridiculous with the small black clutch in his hand. “I always wanted to be a cop." Jake took the purse. “Yeah,” he said, noncommittally. Just what we need, another asshole in uniform. “Thanks for cooperating." He turned and started down the steps to his car. He felt Benny move behind him and instinctually grabbed the big man by the arm as he went by. He used Benny's momentum to swing him around and put him on the ground face down. “Benny,” Jake said in a calm, reasonable tone. “Don't make this bad for yourself. Right now it's no big deal." “I want to ask her why she called the cops!” Benny growled, but at least he wasn't fighting Jake. “Pick up the phone and call her, Benny. Right now, you're going to get up and go back into your house and shut the door. You do not want to end up in jail." “Fine. Okay, you're right. Let me up.” Jake cautiously released his hand and watched him as he stood up and walked up his front steps. He wouldn't have been surprised if old Benny was stupid enough to take a swing at him and he thought he'd better watch for it since the other man could pack a punch with all that bulk behind him. Benny surprised him by shutting his door without another word and Jake got into his car. Jake passed back the purse. “Thanks,” Briles said. Jake drove to Briles’ place, following Susan's directions. Thirty minutes later, Jake and Susan had left a crying Briles at her own apartment. Susan had tried to stay, but Briles wanted to be alone. “She'll be okay,” Susan said as they walked out into the October sunshine. Jake smiled at her but didn't quite know what to say back so he changed the subject. “Do you mind if I stop at my place on the way back? I need to pick something up,” he said. **** He'd tried to sound casual when he'd invited her in. She had been all fired up this morning and he didn't want a reprise. He had to be careful—she was tricky. But he figured it was worth a shot. He locked the door behind her and asked, “Do you want something to eat?” He walked into the kitchen. “I'm starving after all this morning's excitement." She touched his arm as he reached to open the fridge. “Jake, thanks for helping Briles out like that. I really appreciate you coming along today." He looked at her as seriously as he could. “You can make it up to me, of course.” He hid his grin at her surprised face by leaning down to peruse what was in his refrigerator. The view made him wince. Pizza a few days old sat beside some take-out boxes of ancient Chinese. He needed to clean this out but the fact was he usually ate leftovers that should have been thrown out long beforehand. He couldn't serve them to her, though. “Make it up to you how?” she asked from behind him, her voice laced with suspicion.
“What about grilled cheese and soup?” He wondered if he had any bread that wasn't moldy even as he asked her. “Make it up to you by doing what?" Jake shut the fridge and walked over to his pantry. “Ha! This is your lucky day, Ms. Rivers. I am a master chef at grilled cheese.” He threw the bread onto the counter and got a can of chicken noodle out. “What exactly did you mean when you said I would be able to make it up to you?” Susan followed him back to the fridge. He reached in and got out a block of cheddar. Thank God cheese took forever to go bad. He got out butter and mayonnaise. “How many do you want?" “How many what?" He got out a pot and a pan and then glanced at her. “Grilled cheeses." “Oh, one's fine.” She watched him dump in the soup and set the pot on the burner and then put six slices of bread out. He started buttering them on both sides of the bread. “Whoa! Are you buttering your bread?" “One generally does when one is fixing grilled cheese." “No one doesn't." “You don't put butter on your grilled cheese?” She shook her head. “What about Mayo?" “Ewww, that is so gross! Mayo on grilled cheese.” She shivered. “You are truly missing out, Ms. Picky.” He kept buttering, careful to leave two slices of bread condiment free. “I take it you don't like fried baloney sandwiches either?” He grinned at her distressed look. “That is so your loss." After lunch, as they did dishes, he found he liked the casual way she moved around in his kitchen. Earlier, he had made a large deal about how good his sandwiches were when he ate them, enjoying the rise he got out of her. He was surprised she seemed to enjoy hers. “So,” she said, handing him another dish to put into the washer. “What did you mean when you said I could make it up to you earlier?" “I thought maybe we could delve into the kind of sex that doesn't require protection.” He caught the bowl that flew out of her hand and placed it casually in the dishwasher. “Jake,” she said sternly. “Yes?” He tried to seem innocent. She surprised him by simply turning the sink hose on him, soaking his shirt. He yelled and jumped back.
“I cannot believe you just did that.” She laughed and did it again. Instead of jumping back, this time he waded forward, glad he had a closet full of clothes to change into. Grabbing the hose, he turned it on her, catching her when she tried to get away. He stopped only when she said mercy four or five times, kissing her with a deep, soul-searching kiss that made his own knees go week. “Come on,” he said, dragging her away from the kitchen. “Let's throw your clothes into the dryer." “Wait a second,” she said, trying to dig in her heels but sliding instead on the slick floor. He hauled her along as if she wasn't protesting. “My clothes will dry." He stopped in front of the dryer and began stripping her. “Sure they will. In the dryer.” When she started to protest, he held a finger over her lips. “I would be a terrible host if I let you hang out at my house in wet clothes.” He pulled off her shirt, unhooked her bra and slid down her jeans with efficient motions. Then he stripped his own clothes off and threw them in. She was still trying to talk him out of it when he closed the dryer door. He turned it on and then caught her hand. “Come on. Let's get you dry.” He pulled her into his bedroom and then picked her up. She made a little yip when he threw her onto his bed and dived after her. “Welcome to my bedroom.” He kissed her and then drew back. “It's missed you." “Jake, you are absolutely bonkers, you know that?" He leaned down and bit her neck playfully. “Only for you, Susan love." His body already wanted hers badly. His cock was hard and throbbing and he hadn't even really touched her yet. He rubbed along her, dragging his engorged shaft along her stomach and then back along the triangle of hair between her legs. Then he rolled them both over. “Any interest in sixty-nine?” he asked her, hoping he wasn't pushing his luck. “Umm...” She looked embarrassed. He took that as a yes and turned his body under hers. Not the easiest way to do it, but he wasn't taking any chances that she'd spook. “This feels weird, Jake." “Only because you haven't done it before. Believe me, it won't feel weird once I do this.” He raised his head and ran his tongue from the top of her slit to the back, smiling when he heard her moan. God she was so hot. They were more compatible in bed than he thought possible. He loved her response to him, loved the way touching her made him feel. He moved her legs further apart, then worked his tongue up to her clit and stroked it. She hummed. He lost his concentration for a second when she tentatively licked his cock from base to tip. He forced himself back to his task. Her mouth was warm and wet as she covered his head, running her tongue around the rim. He moaned into her clitoris, holding her down when she jumped at the sensation. He caught her sensitive bud between his lips and moaned again, to see if she liked it. She responded by moaning back, his cock lodged in her mouth. Now he knew why she jumped—it felt great. He licked up to delve his tongue inside her then returned to her clit. She was wet, soaking his face with her desire. He loved every second of it. She tasted like honey. He pushed a finger and then another inside her. She pushed back against his hand, her mouth pulling at his cock.
Her hand dropped to roll his balls between her fingers. Jesus, it felt so good—her mouth working over him while her hands played below—that Jake felt his climax building. He wanted to take her with him. Sliding one of his fingers out, he pressed it against her tight back entrance. She moaned and he increased the pressure, while his tongue picked up speed. The moans she made when she climaxed took him over the edge and he came, his tongue still moving over her clitoris, even as he pumped into her waiting mouth. **** Susan got slowly out of Jake's car at her apartment complex. Her legs weren't functioning as well as they should. Jake had given her an education on safe lovemaking options that didn't require protection when they stopped at his apartment and she still felt the effects. She enjoyed the new feeling of sated contentment she was experiencing, taking her time to walk up the path, leaving Jake behind on his cell phone talking to Gordon. She groaned silently when she saw Mr. Parker walking across the lawn to her. In ten seconds, she would have been in her apartment but now she was stuck talking to a guy Georgia had nicknamed Mr. Divorce. Mr. Divorce had left his wife six months ago for his secretary. He had moved into the apartments with a flourish, obviously on a huge high. “Freedom after thirty years,” the fifty-ish man had told Susan on more than one occasion. But then his twenty-something secretary had dumped him (Susan heard this from another tenant) and he was no longer Happy-Divorce-man but Bitter-and-Evil-Divorce-man. Susan had always felt sorry for him. Getting dumped by someone with half your IQ had to be a major blow, especially after you changed your life for that person. The rest of the building's women thought she was crazy. They all believed he got what he deserved. “I've seen you with a guy a couple times over the last week, Susan,” Mr. Parker said without any opening salutations. “Mr. Parker,” Susan said in her cheery voice she usually reserved for small, grumpy children. “It's good to see you! I haven't run into you in weeks." “You going to marry him?” This was said with a growl, spittle flying on the word ‘to.’ Susan picked up her pace to the stairs, Mr. Parker walking beside her. “Wow! Mr. Parker, I wouldn't go that far. This is only our first week of ... dating.” Susan wondered if they were in the dating realm yet, or if they were still in the ‘thing’ stage, as Courtney called it. Maybe she should break down and ask Jake. She could go back to the car and say, “Jake, do we have a thing going here or are we dating?” Yeah right. “I thought he was the guy Prissy left me for when I first saw him.” Mr. Parker looked down at his hands, obviously thinking about his lost love. He looked about ten years older than he had last month. “But then I realized his hair was brown, not black like that asshole's." Shaking herself from her musings, she realized Mr. Parker's behavior was even more bizarre than usual. The long piece of hair he usually had covering his bald spot had fallen on the wrong side, giving him a very strange appearance. “Yeah, actually Mr. Parker,” Susan began to feel worried about being alone with him. Maybe she was being paranoid but the guy who died in the laundry room had black hair, too. “Jake's actually taking a phone call in his car. He should be here any minute.” At Mr. Parker's sharp look, Susan's nervousness increased. “You know, he's a cop,” she hastened to add.
Mr. Parker held out his hand as if to stop her and she jumped back. No way was she going to touch him and See little Prissy break his heart. “Don't ever marry anyone. He'll run around on you and lie to you and break your heart!" “Umm ... I've got to go, Mr. Parker. Right now.” Susan turned and ran up the first set of stairs to her apartment. Mr. Parker was in weirdo-ville these days. Poor guy. He needed help. Big time. Susan slowed her pace, forgetting her strange encounter as she thought about the fact that she hadn't yet done her laundry in all the excitement of the day. She decided she would go to Briles’ place later and keep her friend company. She wasn't about to go into a place where she had seen the first real dead body of her lifetime. Of course, she'd Seen plenty of dead bodies before she'd learned to shield correctly. Her high school class had taken a trip to the prison as penance for being ‘the worst bunch of tenth graders to ever attend Sanderson High School’ according to the principal, Mrs. Rogers. Susan had passed out after the third True Seeing episode, when the old man cleaning the floor touched her shoe. The punishment may not have worked for everyone, but it did with her. The thought of being locked away with people who could pass on those types of memories made her into the most law-abiding citizen she knew. She was so in her own world that she stepped on the body that was lying face down in front of her apartment door. “Holy shit!” she screamed and backpedaled all the way to the railing behind her. The vision hit her almost immediately. The man in the green shirt walked towards the stairs when another person in a yellow raincoat with the hood up appeared out of the shadow in the stairwell. A knife flashed from under the raincoat and cut the neck above the green shirt deeply, from side to side. Blood welled up from what looked like a second mouth. The cut man collapsed slowly, laughter following him down. “Oink, oink, oink." It was several minutes before Susan really saw the scene before her. When she did, she realized immediately who the dead man was. Robb Connors. He lay on his stomach, wearing a green windbreaker to fight off the October chill. Not a green shirt, a green windbreaker. Jeans and bucks completed his outfit. And he was dead. No question about that. Blood had splattered all over the wall that marked the division between Georgia's apartment and hers. It was all over the floor, pooling around his head, which was face down on the concrete landing. Susan could see her own footprints walking up to him and then back to the railing. Move. Get to Jake. The person who did this might still be here. Run! Susan slid along the railing, giving the body a wide berth. She ran back down the stairs to Jake's car. Jake got out as he saw her coming, still talking to Gordon on his cell. She heard him say, “Hold on a sec, Gordon. Susan's running like she's seen another dead body." “Jake,” Susan said, her voice cracking. “Susan, what is it?” He caught her arm with his left hand. “Tell me what's wrong.” His voice was calm and sure and it got through to her. “Up by my apartment,” she gasped. “There's a dead man out on the landing." Jake's hand forced her face up so that they could make eye contact and he spoke into his phone.
“Gordon, looks like I was right. Susan found another body on the landing outside her door. Can you call it in for me?” Jake's voice was calm. He clicked shut his cell and put it into his pocket. He drew his gun out of his shoulder holster. “Wait!” Susan grabbed his arm, not wanting him to go. “It's going to be okay.” Jake leaned down to kiss her and then stepped back, handing her his keys. “Stay in the car until I get back here. Lock the doors." Susan watched him walk up the stairs and then got into his car. She looked at her hands and saw that there was blood on them. When had she touched blood? She hadn't, had she? Chapter Nine
Jake walked up the stairs, keeping a look out in case the perp had decided to hang around. When he got to the top, he saw the body face down in the middle of the hallway. Blood had pooled under the victim, out from around his stomach. He looked as if he had been going towards the stairs. Blood spatter on the wall showed he had been standing for part of the attack. Jake saw that Susan had walked through the blood, all the way up to the victim and wondered why she had walked through something she should have seen from the top of the stairs. The footprints went straight to the body before they stumbled back to the railing. The blood held the outline of her shoes. Jake kept away from the victim then went down the stairs to meet the squad cars in the parking lot, clipping his badge onto his pants. The first two uniforms on the scene had been part of the group at Buddy's the night before. “Hey Matherly, how did you beat us here?” one asked. “I was visiting someone.” Jake didn't try to hide the fact that he knew someone in the building. It would only look suspicious if he didn't own up right away. “Whoever did this isn't in the immediate area. Set up a police line so we can try to save the scene and then start a larger search. Circle the building and check the basement. The body is right at the top of the left stairwell.” A car door slammed and Jake looked out to the parking lot to see Gordon walking toward them. Jake couldn't stop himself from gloating. “Ahhh, Detective Gordon. How nice of you to join us.” The two uniforms chuckled, in on the joke. “I see we stayed at Miss Rivers place last night,” Gordon said to let Jake know that he didn't count this in Jake's win column. “Your run is up, Gordon. I got here first. This point goes to me." Gordon nodded. “Matherly one, Gordon one thousand.” A wide smile showed very white teeth against his dark skin, making him look like the Cheshire Cat. Jake shook his head. “At least I'm on the board.” He turned to walk beside Gordon across the lawn, mimicking the same route they took only days before. “The victim is at the top of the left stairwell. I haven't gotten near him yet. I figured I'd wait for you to show up." “Tell me what you know."
“Susan went up to the apartment while I finished talking to you and came back down hysterical." “She found this one too, huh?” Gordon's voice held a note of something Jake didn't like. “Since he's outside of her apartment on the landing, she didn't have much of a choice.” Jake didn't like the defensive sound in his voice but he couldn't keep it out. “When did you two get here?" “We pulled in while I spoke to you on the phone." Gordon looked at his watch. “How long have you been gone?" Jake looked at his own watch. “Probably two and a half to three hours. One of Susan's friends had an emergency." “Hmm. You see anyone when you got here?" “Yep. Our friend Paul Parker cornered Susan when she got out of the car. I don't know what he had to say to her." “Let's go up,” Gordon said, after a pause. When Gordon got to the top of the stairs, he asked what Jake knew he would. “Who walked through the blood?" “I guess it was Susan. I haven't spoken with her since she came to get me." Gordon looked at the body for a few more minutes. He walked back down to Jake's car to talk to Susan. Jake said nothing, trailing in Gordon's wake. “What happened, Susan?” Gordon's voice steady as always, as he reached into his jacket for his notebook. Susan shuddered. “I didn't see him until I stepped on him." “Why not?” At this question, Gordon looked up like a hawk. Jake was waiting for an answer himself. She should have seen the body. “I'm afraid I was in my own world. I,” Susan swallowed and looked nervous, “have a lot of things on my mind right now. I only noticed him when I stepped on his arm.” She shivered. “Did you see anyone else around?" “Only Mr. Parker." “Older gentleman who lives on the first floor?” Gordon asked. Susan nodded, looking like she had the beginnings of shock. “He cornered me when I got out of Jake's car. He said that he thought Jake was Prissy's new boyfriend but then realized he had brown hair instead of black."
“Who's Prissy?” Gordon looked up from his notebook long enough to exchange a loaded look with Jake. “His girlfriend. His ex-girlfriend, I guess I should say.” Susan rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “He was acting very strangely." “Do you recognize the man that was killed?" “I, I think so. I can't tell for sure, because he's face down, but I think it's Robb Connors." There went one of their suspects, Jake thought. They would have to talk to Parker again but if it wasn't him, they really didn't have anywhere else to go. Jake's spine tingled as he thought about the implications of that. They were missing someone else. Someone they should know about. Jake's intuition screamed at him. He needed to go spend some time rereading the entire file. “We're talking about the guy who lives here on the second floor?” Gordon was flipping through his notebook to a page Jake would bet was titled ‘Robb Connors.’ “The apartment all the way at the end of the building.” Susan held her hand up and pointed to it. “Apartment twenty-one.” Susan looked at Jake. “Jake asked me about him the other night and, actually, we were talking about him earlier.” Jake was glad he had caught Gordon up on the first conversation they'd had. “He said he thought Robb was a repressed homosexual." Gordon looked at Jake as if he'd lost his marbles and detoured the conversation in another direction. “Do you know why he might go down this set of steps and not the set nearest his own apartment?" Susan nodded. “It's kind of a joke here in this apartment building. The assigned parking spaces are backwards." “Backwards?" “The management put his parking space all the way to the right, even though his apartment is all the way to the left. We're all like that. It's annoying when you're carrying up groceries so most of us switched with our corresponding neighbor." “But Mr. Connors didn't switch for some reason?" “He didn't get along with the women in the building very well and the corresponding person for him wouldn't switch." “Elaborate for me on how he didn't get along.” Gordon's mild tone never gave away anything. Susan sighed. “I told Jake—he flirted with all of us. Ellie said that she would rather walk to Mars and back than switch parking spaces with him." “Ellie lives next door to you in twenty-six?” Jake knew Gordon's technique when questioning someone was to take nothing for granted. He also liked to mirror back what someone said when he pumped them for more information. Susan nodded, looking around the parking lot with a dazed expression.
“What about you? Did you have trouble with him?" “No more than any of us did. Georgia said she set you guys on his trail for the first murder." Gordon and Jake exchanged a look, which had Jake shrugging at him. He hadn't had time to tell Gordon about this one. “Explain, please." Susan hummed for a second, clearly debating what to tell him. “I don't think she meant anything by it, but Robb was a big jerk to her last Sunday and so when the police asked her about the murder, she told them she thought Robb had done it. She said her brother was really upset by him." “Brother.” Gordon flipped through his book some more. “I don't have a brother in the list the apartment manager gave me." “He's only staying with her for six weeks or so. He's mentally handicapped so he's going back into a home of some sort. He's in adult daycare." Gordon signaled to Jake that he was ready to leave. Jake pushed Susan back into his car. “Stay here until we clear the body.” He paused and then said, “I can have someone run you over to my place if you'd rather stay there." “No,” she said, “I'm fine.” She didn't look fine to Jake but he'd left her there for now, leaning into the car to give her a fierce, protective kiss on the lips before going back up to the landing. He'd come back in thirty minutes to check on her. **** It wasn't until nine o'clock that night that Gordon pulled Jake into an interrogation room at the station to have a quick talk. Jake leaned up against the wall to let Gordon open the conversation. He thought he knew what was coming. “Three bodies, Jake, and no leads." “Two bodies. I still don't buy the one in-between." “Okay, so let's say two bodies, and leave out the woman. What makes those two the same, except for the fact that they both were in Building Six?" Jake thought for a second. “Hair coloring. Both have short black hair. Both are around six feet tall. Both are male. I'm not sure what else. Maybe they knew each other, but right now nothing is pointing to that." “So you think it might be someone killing because of location?" Jake was certain Gordon had something in mind, but he played along. “Someone's killing black-haired, six-foot tall males who wander into Building Six?” It sounded farfetched but he had been around long enough to know anything was possible. He watched Gordon carefully, impressed that his partner never gave anything away. “And you are convinced the same person killed both men, but not the woman?"
“The medical examiner can confirm it, but both had their necks cut and both were stabbed multiple times. The woman's killer didn't have any fury behind what he was doing. The men's killer was an angry, angry fellow." “The stab wounds were excessive,” Gordon agreed. “The first one was up over forty. This one should be close to that." “So it's the same killer for the two men at least?" “At first glance? Yes." “And we agree that it's a possibility that the woman's death could be the same guy?" Jake sighed. “Maybe. Yes. A possibility. I still don't like it, it doesn't feel right." “But it could be the same guy. It seems like a coincidence that the first two victims were from Woodbridge Apartments. You know how I feel about coincidences." “It could be a copy cat." Gordon nodded, holding Jake's gaze with his own. “It could be." “We won't have the DNA results from the hair for another few weeks. Maybe CSU found something we can use from this scene." Gordon kept Jake's gaze for another thirty seconds, which seemed much longer, before he nodded. “To be honest, I'm inclined to agree with you that the second killing doesn't feel like the first, even if you go with the thought that the perp was interrupted mid-way through." Jake nodded. “We need to take another run at Parker again tomorrow, this time here at the station. If he did it, he would have been covered in blood. That means he had to shower and change clothes before he spoke with Susan. I think we should get a warrant and search his place." “Agreed. Talk to Judge Nelson.” Gordon looked at him, his gaze sharp again. “Another coincidence I don't like is that the same person found both bodies." “She didn't find the first one. Ellie did. It was bad luck she stumbled on both scenes, Gordon.” Jake tried to keep the warning out of his voice. Gordon was doing his job. “You don't believe in luck, Jake." “I do in this situation." Gordon grunted as if he didn't buy it but changed the subject. “What do we know about the killer, Jake?" Jake sighed. Here it comes, he thought. “Jack shit, Gordon. We don't know Jack." “That's right, Jake, we don't. So you know what I think you should be doing right now, Jake?"
“Talking to Susan to see if she has anything we can use from the first murder?" Gordon patted Jake on the shoulder. “You got it. Do you want me along?" “No, I'll page you if I need you." “Good. Now get the hell out of here." Jake grinned at his partner. “I believe that's the first time I've ever heard you cuss, Gordon. How shocking!" “Get going,” Gordon said, opening the door. “And bring back something we can use." Jake saluted saucily but his eyes were hard and his shoulders set as he walked out of the station. He was not looking forward to putting the screws on Susan but he would do it. He had to. They needed to find the killer before another man lost his life. Chapter Ten
Susan sat in her apartment, oblivious to the fact that it was too dark, the only light coming from the kitchen doorway. She had been sitting on her sofa since Jake had walked her up two hours ago. She was fighting an internal battle, mentally arguing with herself about telling Jake what she Saw. This person had killed two, possibly three people and she had information that might help the police capture him. It all seemed to circle back to the fact that the police—and Jake—weren't going to believe her when she told them about her True Seeing. But in this last vision, she had seen his face, the face of the man in the yellow raincoat. Susan closed her eyes and pictured him again. The raincoat was the same one her stuffed Paddington Bear had worn when she was a child, only man-sized. It even had the same wooden buttons, the ones that buttoned up with great big loops. Shiny yellow, very shiny and stiff, as if the raincoat could stand on its own when it wasn't worn. She had been so caught up in the raincoat that she hadn't seen what type of pants he was wearing. Something dark. There had only been a flash of his face. Blue eyes dominated to the point that she really couldn't remember anything else. Clear blue, like a mountain stream. The rest of his face was forgettable. She struggled to recall it, but even now, only hours after the vision, it was fading from her mind. What remained were crystal blue eyes staring out from Paddington's coat. She shivered. What a mess. The pounding on her door scared her so badly that she screamed. It was one of those female yips she absolutely hated. She strode to the door and opened it, the disgust she felt for herself written on her face. “What in the hell are you doing opening the door without knowing who's there?” Jake pushed past her, irritation flowing from him in waves. “Jesus, woman! I'm starting to get on my own nerves with the number of times I've told you about this." “I'm not in the mood for a speech right now, Jake. Please turn right around and leave. I've got some things on my mind and I don't want company."
Jake looked around him at the dark apartment. “Saving money on your electricity bill?” He clicked on the two side lamps that flanked the sofa. “What were you doing sitting here in the dark?" Susan still held the open door. “Go away." Jake walked to her, took the door and gently closed it. “If you're trying to save money on electricity, Susan, then you shouldn't let out all the heat.” The lock made a loud click as the bolt slid home. Jake took Susan's hand and brought her to the sofa. After she sat, he took what was becoming his assigned seat on the coffee table. Susan felt a half-hearted flair of temper. God the man was exasperating. “Jake, don't sit on my coffee table. It's a nice piece of furniture.” It came out like a childish whine. Susan dropped her head into her hands and ground her fingers into her temples to try to relieve some of the tension. Jake took her hands and pulled them down to see her face. “Susan, I want you tell me what you left out of your first statement." Susan looked at Jake for a long time. She'd said over and over that she wanted to put distance between them. Telling him about the visions would put distance between them all right. As in Game Over. It's what she told herself she wanted. So why was she so reluctant to tell him? Why not tell him, help his case if she could? That's if he believed her. Which he wouldn't. He'd think she was nuts. Even worse would be if he believed her and hated her for it. Even her own mother had rejected her. “I don't know what's got you so scared you feel like you can't tell me, but I'll protect you. I promise, Susan.” Jake's body language showed his sincerity. He really thought he could protect her. Susan started laughing. It wasn't a nice laugh, but she couldn't help herself. Jake looked as if she'd slapped him. Susan climbed over the back of the sofa to get some space between them before he could recover. “Protect me,” she spat. “You could no sooner protect me than the man in the moon could.” She paced back and forth behind the couch in the area that served as her foyer. “You don't understand, Jake. You don't want to know what my secret is.” She looked at him, noting that his face had settled into its cop mask. “Tell me anyway." Susan blew out her breath. “Fine. But you'll either think I'm crazy or you'll hate me for it.” Susan tried to think where to start, still hoping in some small part of her that Jake would prove her wrong and like her in spite of her True Seeing. “When I was little, I found out I had a hereditary condition, which had jumped generations from my Aunt Ida down to me.” Susan looked around her apartment but she didn't see anything in the room. “My great-great grandmother also had this condition, according to my grandmother. Gran called it a gift, but if it's a gift, then the joke's on me, because I have spent my entire life trying to hide from it." Jake moved restlessly but didn't speak. Susan got the hint. “I know I'm rambling but it's hard to talk about. I haven't told anyone for fifteen years, so you'll have to be patient with me.” Susan paced to the heavy oil painting of a white horse head. She'd found it at a flea market and bought it, liking the simplicity, even though she wasn't exactly a heavy oils kind of gal. She traced the horse with her fingers while she spoke. “This so-called gift is essentially the ability to steal people's memories." She turned to look at Jake, still sitting on her coffee table. “I usually only see the visions when I touch someone but more rarely it can happen when I'm standing in the room with someone and the emotional
energy's very high. It can be dangerously misleading at times, since I only get a flash of a scene, just a snippet of feelings and thirty seconds or so of picture." Susan stared at Jake, trying to gage his reaction but it was impossible. His face was a mask. She couldn't tell what he was thinking so she plunged ahead. “So that night, when I found Ellie staring at the guy in the laundry room, I came in and without even touching the man who was killed, I began to See." “What did you see in the vision?” His voice sounded reluctant, as if he was afraid of her answer. Well, he should be. “A man in a yellow raincoat.” Susan backed to the wall and slid down it. From this position, she didn't have to stare at his face. Jake got up and walked to her, squatting down. She stopped looking at him and looked inside instead. “I can't See him,” her voice dropped to a whisper. “It's such a strange raincoat. He comes into the laundry room and says, ‘Hello piggy,’ to Jim Daugherty, who's standing in the corner putting in his laundry. The hood to the yellow raincoat is up, shading his face.” Susan shivered. “You couldn't see his face, Susan?” Jake's voice sounded very, very careful to her. Susan wondered how hard he had to fight his disbelief. She couldn't tell anything from his voice or his face and body. Jake put his hands on her upper arms to get her attention and said again, “You couldn't see his face?" “No, not that time." “That time?” He paused and then said, “You had another vision when you found the second body?” Jake's voice was strained. Susan thought he was controlling himself from calling her a liar. “Yes. I know you don't believe me." Jake shook his head but didn't deny it. “Just tell me about the second vision." Susan looked up at the wood beams that ran through the apartment ceiling. She had always liked them, she thought, trying to distract herself from her current conversation. “He's still wearing the yellow raincoat. He's hiding in the stairwell, waiting for the man in the green shirt. He has the hood up. I can't see very much of his face, except his eyes. Blue, blue eyes in the darkness of the hood. He cuts the other man's neck. It looks like a second mouth." “Did you see anything else but his eyes?" “All that laughing,” Susan went on, as if Jake hadn't spoken. “And the sound.” She started rocking back and forth with the surge of the extra energy pouring through her. “What sound?” Jake didn't touch her; there was no comfort in his words. “Pig sounds. Someone's laughing and saying oink over and over again." They were both silent for a second. Then the cop kneeling before her asked, “What makes you call the raincoat strange?" Susan shook her head to clear the memories she had been reliving for hours now. “Do you know who Paddington Bear is?"
“What?" “He's this bear that goes on all sorts of adventures in children's books.” Susan waved her hand to silence him before he could comment on the state of her mental health. “Anyway, he wears this raincoat, I think it's blue in the books but someone gave me a stuffed Paddington when I was little with a yellow raincoat on and the one he was wearing looked just like it." “Describe.” Susan got the impression that he had an easier time believing her about the True Seeing than the raincoat. Then again, he hadn't said anything yet to indicate he believed her, only that he was hearing her out. “The coat had oblong wooden buttons,” she held up her hand, “about as big as my pinkie. It buttoned up with great big loops and was shiny and stiff, like it was brand new. He must have cleaned it off since last weekend, because it didn't have any blood on it the second time.” She paused. “I mean, it didn't have any blood on it the second time until he slashed Robb's throat.” She looked down at her hands, wondering again how she'd gotten blood on them. She'd washed them off but she still felt dirty. “Then it had a lot of blood on it." Jake sat back with a thump. “Okay, let me see if I've got this straight. The murderer is a guy wearing a yellow raincoat that looks like something out of a children's book, who runs around making pig noises. Is that about right?" Susan started laughing, but this time without bitterness. “And you asked why I didn't want to tell you." Jake ran a hand through his hair. “It does sound a bit far fetched." “Fine, don't believe me.” Susan was ready to take the easy way out. “You could have told me before. I would have listened." “Yeah, sure. You would have thought I needed to be locked up in a mental ward. I don't talk about my so-called gift to anyone." Jake gazed around the room with a lost look in his eyes. “Ever?" “What?" “You've never talked about it?" “I've only told my mother and grandmother." Jake's gaze met hers. “This is why you aren't having children?" Susan was startled by the change of subject. “Of course. Surely you understand now?" “No, I don't. What's wrong with what you just told me?" Susan leaned into him. “Jake, I'm stealing people's memories. Stealing!" “Is it stealing, if they're dead?"
“It doesn't only happen with dead people." Jake went still as the implications hit him. “Have you done it with me?" Here it comes, she thought. She prepared herself for his rejection. “Yes.” She met his stare without flinching. “How many times?" “Once." “The first night. When you left so abruptly. I thought you looked like you had seen a ghost.” His eyes hardened. “What ghost of mine did you see?" Susan was reluctant to tell him. His hands snaked around her wrists and he gave her a little shake. “What was it you said, ‘My God, how could you have survived it'? I was so sidetracked I'd forgotten until now. What did you see that you wondered how I could survive, Susan?” He gave her a harder shake. “Tell me." “Jake..." “Tell me,” he ground out. But Susan was sure he knew what she had seen. She closed her eyes to shut out his fury. “Your mother, kneeling over your father. She is wearing a blue housedress. Your father is still and you don't know what's wrong with him. She turns towards you, his blood down the front of her dress and a gun in her hand. She tells you to leave the room.” Susan kept her voice emotionless during the recital. She opened her eyes to see him, his face still with shock, his biggest secret revealed. “God,” he said, struggling to swallow, the hands holding her wrists gone slack. “I don't think I really believed you but now..." “Now do you see, Jake? Now do you see?” Susan pushed up from the wall, shaking his hands off easily, walking several steps away. “And you were ready to blow it off, weren't you? As if it was no big deal?” She swung towards him. “But now that I stole one of your memories, one of your secrets, it's more than a big deal, isn't it, Jake?" **** Jake turned toward her, resting against the wall that was still warm from when she had been sitting there. He was struggling to think, to understand what she'd told him. Concentrate on the case—think about the rest later. So what does all this mean to the case? “So let me get all this straight. You saw the murderer?" “Jake, please. Let's talk about this." “We are talking about this, Susan." “You know what I mean." He did, or thought he did, but he wasn't going there right now. He couldn't. “Can you do it now?"
“What?" “Steal a memory?" “I don't do it on purpose.” Susan continued pacing across the room and back. “I don't do it because I want to. Why does everyone always assume I'm doing it because I want to? It just comes over me." “When? How?” Jake wanted all the details. He had to understand what he was dealing with. He recognized that part of him still didn't believe that she could do what she said she could do. Maybe she had found out about his parents another way. But his mother had been wearing a blue housedress that night. And she had told him to get out. Those things hadn't been in the newspapers or in the police reports. They had stayed trapped in his own mind. “I told you before." “Tell me again." “It has to be something upsetting or highly emotional. It's almost like the memory is so big, so supercharged that it's hovering around, and by standing in it I set the movie clip to play." “Is that how it feels to you? Like a movie?" “It's the easiest way I can explain it. Like a movie clip, but more. There are emotions, too, and I seem to be able to feel how the person is feeling." “How was Robb Connors feeling?” She flinched at the question and Jake wondered why he had deliberately hurt her, even as he felt satisfaction that he had. Susan looked at the horse head painting. “He was confused. He was wondering why the guy in the raincoat was laughing. He didn't feel pain yet. He didn't think about the fact that he was dying." “What about Jim Daugherty?” Jake wanted to push her, to find out all the data. Susan walked to the picture and began to trace to horse again. “I don't know." “No?" “Feelings aren't as clear if I'm not touching you." Jake stood up and stalked to her. Placing his hands on her shoulders to turn her around, he said, “Can you have a vision now?" “You have to be thinking about something that creates a very emotional response in you.” Susan's voice was clipped and clinical as his had been with her. Jake thought about the time as a rookie, when he went to his first murder. A mother had drowned her two kids in the bathtub and hacked at them with a knife. He never allowed himself to think about it because the memory upset him still to this day. “I'm thinking about something. Can you See it?" “I have to drop my shields to do it."
“Shields?” His hands clinched tight on her arms. Susan made a movement that told him he was hurting her and he relaxed his hold. “I have managed to build shielding to protect myself from stealing people's memories. I only Saw your memories because I was so overwhelmed by what had happened between us that I accidentally dropped them. I didn't drop them on purpose, I was just...” She didn't finish the sentence. Jake knew what she'd felt because he'd felt that way too. He tightened his hands again on her arms. “Drop your shielding Susan." “No. Jake, this is a bad idea.” Susan shook her head, back and forth, back and forth. “Do it." “No,” she whispered, their gazes locked in some sort of battle of the wills. “Please." That seemed to work. She closed her eyes and went stock still in his hands. Jake kept thinking about the woman and her kids, over and over, thinking about the first glimpse he'd caught of them. Susan opened her eyes and looked around, confused and vulnerable and upset. Hollows seemed to have formed in her cheeks and tears dropped from her eyelashes. Jake suddenly felt fiercely protective of her, pulling her into his arms. He kicked himself for making her have a vision. It had been a stupid idea and he hated himself for what he'd done. She'd told him she'd spent her life running from this, then he'd made her do it on command. Jake couldn't even fathom what had made him want to punish her. He sat down abruptly, taking Susan with him, her body weak from her vision. Arranging her in his lap, Jake asked, “Are you okay?" “God, Jake, what that woman did.” Susan looked up at him, pulling back to sit before him on the floor. “Do you have nightmares about it?" “What did you See?” Jake wasn't sure he really wanted to know but he'd made her do it, the least he could do is listen. And part of him really did want to know what she Saw. Part of his mind still didn't quite believe her. “You are looking at another cop putting the cuffs on a woman. There are two children, dead, on the floor. There is blood everywhere. You run outside and throw up in the bushes. Other cops are outside and they laugh at you." “Susan, that's not what I was thinking about." “It isn't?” Susan's eyes went big. “It was but it wasn't. I only thought about walking into the room. It's almost as if you Saw what was next in the sequence. I didn't particularly want you to see me throwing up in the bushes.” Jake couldn't help but be amused. He had subconsciously chosen the first part so that she wouldn't see him acting like the complete rookie he'd been. “I bet you didn't but maybe that was the most upsetting part for you.” Susan's face was serious. “You realize this is the first time I've deliberately done this. I don't know if I should be angry with you for
wanting me to or if I should thank you. It's been educational, to say the least." Jake sighed and dropped his forehead to hers. “I'm struggling to believe this, Susan." “I'm sure you are. It's unbelievable.” Susan pulled back to look at him, still interested in what they'd done. “I think I Saw what you wanted me to See, but maybe not exactly as you thought I would. Maybe I Saw the part that was most charged with your emotions. More important, though, is I can drop my shielding on purpose. I guess it makes sense that since I put them up, I should be able to take them down at will. But I've spent so much time with my shields constantly up that I've always wondered if I could just drop them." Jake blew out a breath. “All right. So there's no doubt about your ability. First the scene with my mother, now this.” He rubbed his eyes. “I think it means you can do what you say you can.” Jake looked at Susan for a minute and decided to give her an explanation he'd never given anyone. “My mother killed my father because he was going to leave her." “You don't have to tell me this." “No, I want to.” He grabbed her hand. “I would have told you all this eventually, you know. It's something that I would have needed to share with you. My mother served thirteen years in prison for killing him. I haven't seen her since then." “Don't you want to?" “No.” Jake's voice was final. “I have no desire to see her or have a relationship with her. She ruined three people's lives that day and I don't ever want to talk to her again. She calls me once a month and I hang up on her when I hear her voice on the phone." “Don't you want to forgive her?” Her green eyes held sadness and worry. “Forgive her? What she did was unforgivable. I won't help her sleep at night by giving her the absolution she's looking for." Susan was silent for a long moment and Jake wished he knew what she was thinking. “You're right, I guess. But if I had a mother who cared enough to call me every month, I would be ecstatic." “You're mother doesn't call you?" “She hasn't talked to me since my college graduation, which she didn't attend. She called afterwards to tell me she had done her duty by me and adios." “Why?" Susan leaned over to him to make her point. “Because I'm a thief, Jake. Because I steal people's memories. Because I'm a freak, a little witch, and she doesn't want a damned thing to do with me. She hasn't touched me since I was fifteen years old." “Why not?” Jake could hear the pain and bitterness in her words. He fought down the desire to pull her back into his lap and comfort her. “Because she had warned me before not to steal her memories, but I made the mistake of telling her that
I'd Seen them again." “She believed you had visions?" “Of course. You tell your mother these kinds of things when you're young and stupid. Gran warned me I shouldn't tell her about them, that I should keep my mouth shut after the first time. But I was too stupid to listen. I was mad at her when she didn't allow me to go to Pam Hardell's birthday sleepover. I wanted to get my mother back, so I opened my big mouth and told her I knew she had slept with my soccer coach. I don't know why I always Saw her sexual encounters. That's what we argued over the first time. She'd slept with my choir teacher. Now that I'm older, I think it's because she felt such massive guilt about what she'd done. She was devastated when my father left her. I should have felt sorry for her. Instead, I slapped her in the face with it." Susan was silent for a full minute and Jake groped for something to say. But then she continued, “She never physically touched me again." Jake's shock was instantaneous. “God, Susan. I can't believe it. What a bitch." “Come on Jake, admit it! You don't want to touch me either." Jake laughed but not as if he thought it was funny. “You're wrong, Susan. I do want to touch you.” He locked his hand around hers to prove it. “I was surprised at first, that's all." Susan looked at him as if he'd grown two heads. “Why aren't you running away from me?" Jake didn't know why it didn't matter when on one level, he knew it would to other people. He struggled to give her an answer that made sense but then settled for truth. “You're going to have to give me some time to think about this. I'm not sure I can work this out tonight. Two bodies in less than a week means that I need to concentrate on solving these crimes.” He dropped her hand and stood up. “Give me some time, then we can talk about this again.” He picked up her phone and dialed a number. “Gordon, it's Jake. I'm at Susan Rivers’ apartment. Can you come here? Fine.” Jake hung up the phone with a snap. “Wait a second. I'm not going through this again tonight, Jake." “It won't be as painful, Susan, but we need to catch up Gordon.” Jake met her stare and steeled himself for her anger. “I made the mistake of telling him I thought you were withholding something from your statement." Susan's mouth dropped open. “Thanks a lot, Jake." He walked over to her. “This is a murder investigation, Susan, not a tea party. The more time that passes, the less likely we are to catch whoever did this. We need all the leads we can get right now, at least for the first and third murders." “You've got leads for the second?” At his nod, she asked another question, “You still don't think the same person did all three?" “Nope. First and third were done by a different guy. I can feel it. But there are plenty of people who think that we are looking for one person, not two." “I'm not sure how much what I've told you will help you find who did this."
“We can use anything we can get at this point. Two bodies doesn't mean we have a serial killer on our hands but there is always a chance that we do, which means the clock is ticking.” He started for the kitchen. “Let's get some coffee brewing. We're going to need it." Chapter Eleven
Susan shut the door on Jake and Gordon, glad to be by herself. It was past one in the morning and she wanted to go to bed. Watching the two men work together had been an education, though. Gordon was the senior of the two. But when Jake told him to accept that she could See, he had asked no questions. Jake had stepped in several times so she wouldn't have to go back into another lengthy explanation of True Seeing. She knew the two men would have a long talk about what they had learned here and Gordon would probably have doubts about her ability but at this point, she didn't care what they said. She was too tired to worry about it. Her week had been overwhelming. Two dead bodies and the beginnings of a relationship/thing with Jake had put her emotions in a tailspin. On top of it all, she'd had more True Seeing episodes this week than she'd had in the last year. They were tiring for her. Strangely, making love with Jake seemed to restore her energy but she had Seen Robb's murder, then had Seen Jake as a rookie tonight. She felt like the walking dead. A loud banging made her jump. Again. She was jumping at everything lately. If that was Jake, he was going to get an earful. He should know her nerves were strung tight tonight. Tomorrow, she was declaring a scare-free day. She went over to the door and stopped herself right before she opened it. She looked through the peephole and groaned. Could her night get any worse? When she opened the door, Briles breezed by her, obviously fully recovered from her earlier episode with Benny. Courtney came in on her heels and stood in the doorway with two bottles of champagne. “Darling!” she said, her mouth set in a dramatic line. “We have come to save you from a life of boredom!" Courtney struck a pose, looking like the St. Paulie's girl with champagne bottles instead of steins. She was dressed in her standard all black going-out clothes. This time she wore a long black skirt split up to the top of her thigh and a black tank top with the word Angel written in white across her breasts. For some reason Susan couldn't fathom, men couldn't help but comment on the shirt. It was an instant conversation starter. “I can assure you I have not been bored tonight.” Susan heard Briles rummaging around in her kitchen cabinets. “Hey, you in there! Don't do anything, because you're both leaving!" Courtney sauntered by her. “Of course we're not leaving. What an absurd notion.” Courtney went into the kitchen, leaving Susan to close and lock the door. She ran in after them. “Look, I've had a hard day. You two don't know how badly I want to go to sleep right now.” Susan knew her voice sounded desperate. She was desperate. Briles poured the champagne into the three flutes she'd washed. Next to Courtney, she was a splash of color in a red dress that hit her mid-thigh. A small slash of skin showed before her boots took over, hiding the rest of her leg. “How long has it been since you used these glasses, girl? There had to have been an inch of dust in them.” She handed Susan and Courtney a glass each. “To the three of us. May
we find true love this month.” It was Briles’ standard toast. “Or at least someone who's good in bed,” Courtney added with a snicker. That was Courtney's standard toast. Susan sighed and raised her glass. “Or at least someone who can carry on an intelligent conversation,” she said, completing the ritual with a clink of glasses. They all sank down into the chairs around the kitchen table to take a long sip. Courtney cleared her voice dramatically and said, “I'll get the Idiot of the Month Award for October." Briles laughed. “Don't tell me you can beat my little caper?” For a second, Susan thought Briles meant her episode with Benny this morning, but then she remembered that her friend had been top contender when she'd called her brother's wife his ex-wife's name not once, but four times at her parents’ dinner party. Susan had only won Idiot of the Month once in the year or so they had been giving the award to each other. She had walked across a crowded bar with her skirt hung in her pantyhose, showing off her rather unimpressive rear end to a hundred plus people. Now she only wore pants out at night as a rule. Forget about showing off her legs, even if they were her best feature. And Jake thought she wasn't safety conscious. Courtney smiled a superior smile. “Darling, your little incident does not touch what I did yesterday. I've been waiting for us all to be together to tell you.” She took a sip of champagne to heighten the suspense. “So Friday, I get this email from this little twerp with the Baldwin Agency who took me out for drinks on Thursday night. He's asked if I wanted to go out again for happy hour next Tuesday with him." “Which little twerp?” Briles always had to know details. “That guy Tom. The one that's about a foot shorter than me with sandy-blond hair and a cute butt." “He's not shorter than you!” Briles had told Susan once that she thought Courtney was a little too superior about her height. “Well, he looks like it to me." “Did you wear heels?” Briles looked pointedly down at Courtney's two-inch black mules, which Susan thought were a bad choice for dancing. But what did she know? “Of course you did. Why do you always do that? Wear flats when you date men close to your height! That's, like, basic middle school stuff." “My legs look good in heels, for your information. Anyway, I wasn't going to sleep with him, I just wanted him to buy me a couple drinks. And he's amusing company." “Courtney,” Susan said, joining in for the first time. “You shouldn't get their hopes up then ditch them. It's rude." “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, so I forward the email to Briles and ask her if she wanted to come, telling her I'm pretty sure he'll spring for some free drinks. Then I add that Jim and I will be breaking up soon, since he fell asleep right in the middle of sex the other night." “Oh my God! He did?” Susan said, right as Briles said, “Wait, I never got an email from you..."
“Yes, well that's why I win the Idiot of the Month Award. You see I hit REPLY instead of FORWARD." Dead silence reigned in Susan's kitchen as they all sipped their drinks and contemplated the ramifications of that. And then they all burst out laughing. “Oh, oh, God, I'm going to wet my pants if I don't stop laughing so hard,” Briles gasped. “Courtney,” Susan said, wiping tears, “you idiot!" “I propose that Courtney wins the Idiot Award for the Month of October,” Briles said, holding out her glass. “I second it,” Susan said, tapping her glass to Briles'. Courtney lifted her glass and completed the circle. She waited for the other two to drink before she said, “What really sucks is that I found out I'd done it because Sue Kessler forwarded me the email when she got it. Turns out the little twerp thought it was so funny, he sent it to all his friends and Sue ended up with it from her cousin, who didn't even realize that Sue knew me." Susan and Briles both choked on their champagne. “That is so terrible." “I am so, so sorry!" Courtney sighed. “Yeah, well it serves me right for being such a pure-D-bitch to him.” She looked at Susan with a grin. “Miss goodie-two-shoes over here has been warning me for years that something like this could happen but I wouldn't listen." “I am not a goodie-two-shoes!” Susan always protested this and did so now to try to take away her friend's pain by changing the subject. Being the Idiot-of-the-Month was funny, but not if everyone in the city—and probably in Taiwan by now the way people forwarded email these days—knew of your gaff. “Of course you are!” Both her friends chorused joyfully, easily distracted as usual. “For your information, I slept with someone today so you guys can forget about me entering the nunnery!” Susan couldn't help but be pleased with her announcement. This was the first time she had ever slept with anyone since they had known her. She had only slept with one guy in college and one guy in law school, both of whom she thought she would marry, until she came to her senses and ran away from them. Unlike her friends, sex was an emotional commitment to Susan. She often wished it wasn't, but if she slept with someone, she knew there would be a large probability that she would get emotionally entangled. Like she had with Jake. Courtney gave Susan's hair a tug of affection. “We are so pleased for you.” She looked at Briles and said, “Our little baby, all grown up,” as she dashed away a fake tear from her cheek. Susan rolled her eyes and laughed. “You guys are so stupid." “So who is Mr. Lucky?” Courtney asked.
Susan nodded her thanks as her glass was refilled. “The detective I introduced you guys to at the bar.” Susan didn't mention his involvement with getting Briles’ purse back, since she didn't know if Briles had told Courtney about Benny. She decided the safest bet would be to avoid the subject if possible. Briles was upfront about stuff but, when it came to Benny, all bets were off. There was a large chance that she was counting on Susan to keep it secret. Susan watched her friends exchange a glance of concern. “You need to watch yourself with that one, Susan,” Courtney said quickly. Briles nodded. “You don't want to get all confused with needing someone to help you through finding a body last Sunday night with love or anything crazy like that." Susan looked at her friends and felt a tightening in her chest. For as much as they treated men lightly, they were obviously very concerned for her. “Don't worry. I slept with him before I found the body in the laundry room.” She took a sip of her champagne and looked at her friends innocently. “Before when?" “Last Sunday night. That's why I was doing laundry so late.” Susan couldn't control the urge she had to get another rise out of her friends. “Come to think of it, I had sex with him before I found the body this afternoon, too. Wonder if there's a correlation there?" “You found another body?” Courtney's face was as white as a sheet. Susan felt bad for her teasing now. “Yes. This one right outside my door." “Susan, you shouldn't be staying here alone.” Briles was dead serious. “Why don't you move into my place until they find whoever did this?" Susan made a T with her hands. “Okay, time out here guys. I'm not moving out of my apartment. I like my own space. You know that." “Then one of us will have to stay with you,” Courtney said with authority. Turning to Briles, she said, “Briles, go home and pack your bag. You can stay with Susan for a couple days." Briles stood up from the kitchen table and leaned towards Courtney, “If you're so hot for someone to stay with her, you move in here Courtney. I think it's crazy for anyone to be within a mile of this place." “Some friend you are Briles,” Courtney said back, in a snit. “Ladies,” Susan said, crossing her fingers under the table. “I will call Jake and have him come stay with me. How much safer can I get with a police officer sleeping in my bed? Okay? As soon as you two leave.” She stood up to. “Which should be now, because I am about to fall down I'm so tired." “I don't know,” said Courtney, not rising from the table. “Briles and I aren't sure you can handle this guy. Maybe calling him to come over isn't a good idea." “Why can't I handle him?” Sure, she wasn't that experienced with men but she was an attorney for God's sake. She handled people for a living. She watched as her friends exchanged a speaking look.
“Well...” Briles looked uncomfortable. “He's not really the type of guy for a fling, Susan. He didn't even react when we were teasing him at the bar." “And he was all possessive of you,” Courtney chimed in. “We think he might be interested in more than you're willing to give." You have no idea what I'm willing to give. “Don't worry about my thing with Jake. It's only a week old. Who knows what will happen in the future?” The thought depressed her. She grabbed up the three champagne flutes before they could refill them and took them to the sink. She turned to her friends with a tired smile. “We'll worry about it next week. I'm too tired tonight." Courtney rose from the table and Susan knew she had won this battle. After air kisses were exchanged, Susan locked the door behind them and fell into bed more exhausted than she been in her life. Chapter Twelve
Jake considered running when he saw one of Susan's friends at the grocery store. Kroger was packed, as it was every Sunday morning when he and all his fellow heathens spent their time shopping instead of in church. But the minute he thought it, she looked up and recognized him and he knew he was trapped. It was the tall one with black hair, looking like a million bucks at 11 o'clock on a Sunday morning. She was wearing what might be workout clothes, although he was pretty sure he saw the same outfit on Jennifer Lopez when he was reading People at the dentist's office last month. “Jerry, right?” She held out her hand for him to shake. “My name's Jake.” Jake got the feeling that he was underdressed for the supermarket in his sweatpants and T-shirt. “I'm sorry, but I've forgotten your name." He could tell she was flabbergasted, but tried to conceal it. “My name is Courtney." “Oh yes. Sorry about that.” Jake wondered if he could wheel away without talking to her. He didn't want to be rude to one of Susan's friends, though, so it looked like he was stuck. Courtney seemed to be searching for something to say. “Thanks for staying with Susan last night.” Her big eyes shined with gratitude. “We were so scared for her to be there alone after we left." “Wait, you were at Susan's apartment last night?” Jake kept his face carefully blank while his mind cranked through explanations. His first bet was that she was ditsy as hell and had lost track of what night she had been there. “Well, not last night, more like this morning. Didn't Susan tell you about the annual Idiot of the Month meeting?" “What time did you get there?” Jake didn't even want to know what the annual Idiot of the Month meeting encompassed. He would need to have a chat with Susan about her two nutty friends. He didn't get what she saw in them but he had a feeling that if they were her friends, there must be more here than he was seeing. That scene with Benny yesterday made him think that Susan needed a keeper to protect her from her friends’ escapades. “Oh, around one. We showed up to cheer her up. I thought about staying, of course, but Susan said
she'd call you and get you to come over so Briles and I went ahead and left. It's got to be so dangerous living in those apartments with two people dying there!" Poor Susan. She must have been dead on her feet when those two showed up. Dead tired and telling a lie to get rid of them. It looked like he'd have to drop by her place this afternoon to tell her the George Washington and the cherry tree story. Jake felt his pager buzz on his hip and caught it up for a quick glance. “I've got to go,” he said, wheeling away to the customer service counter without an explanation. With a quick word to the woman behind the counter, he left his full grocery cart in her care and headed out at a run to his car. If he didn't change, he might be able to beat Gordon to the station. Looks like old knife-in-a-paper-evidence-bag Martel had a suspect in for questioning. **** When Jake walked into the crowded outer room that contained the back of the one-way mirror for Interrogation Room One, he had to suck in his gut to fit inside. In the interrogation room itself was a man about 50-years-old. He was smoking a cigarette, which was a big no-no in the non-smoking building the detectives had their desks. The brass constantly sent out memos that warned of disciplinary measures for anyone who allowed suspects to smoke in the interrogation rooms. So it became a bit of a joke to let people smoke in there, the logic being that if everyone did it, no one person could be singled out to be made an example of by the brass. It had worked so far and threatening memos had been the only consequence. Jake and Gordon were the exception to this because Gordon claimed that the smoke ruined his expensive suits. While Jake took a lot of ribbing about not playing along, he had never seen anyone confront Gordon, not even to the point of gentle teasing. The man smoking was big but not like a weight lifter. He had the look of someone who spent his free time with a Stroh beer in one hand and the remote control in the other. He was dressed in standard biker fare, wearing jeans, black T-shirt and a black leather jacket with studs across his collarbone. The jacket wasn't new. It looked like it was a part of him, as if he slept in it. He snarled something at Martel, shaking his greasy head. He looked mean enough to kill someone, but so did most of the people in this building, including the cops. He had the strength to slash someone's throat. But he didn't seem like the kind of guy to go around killing people unless they tripped over the trash on his apartment floor and landed on his lap. He might murder someone, but Jake thought he wouldn't waste the effort to keep stabbing them over and over once they were dead. If Susan's vision was true, he was definitely not the kind of guy who wore a teddy bear's raincoat. “So how long have you lived in Woodbridge Apartments, Dwaine?" Dwaine blew out a long stream of smoke into Martel's face. Jake caught Gordon's wince in his peripheral vision and tried not to smile. “Couple years now, I guess." “How do you know Louise Johnson?" “I already told you this like five times. She was my girlfriend." Martel nodded his head, writing something on a pad of paper on the table before him. He's probably drawing pictures of crosses, Jake thought. He knew Martel wasn't writing down that the victim was Dwaine's girlfriend. They had known that since the day they had found her. “So she lived with you?"
Dwaine blew out a stream of smoke. “Yeah, she lived with me. How many times do I have to tell you the same shit again?" “Why did you kill her, Dwaine?" “Who said I killed her?” Dwaine looked like he was sweating hard. Sitting in the leather jacket must be making it worse, but Jake didn't see him make a move to take it off. Maybe it was his security blanket. “We searched your apartment and found the knife. It's got your fingerprints all over it." “How do you know they were my prints? You haven't fingerprinted me.” Dwaine shifted around in his chair. “Your prints are on file, Dwaine, from that little scuffle you had at the Naked Lady a couple years ago." “That wasn't my fault. You can ask anyone. I was defending myself." “Yeah. With a knife.” Martel looked up from where he was pretending to take notes. “You're a big fan of using a knife on people, aren't you Dwaine? You've been busy with it this week. We figure you've killed three people." Dwaine rose out of the chair. “Wait a second, now. I might of slit that bitch's throat but I didn't do those other two." “It looked like your work, Dwaine. Why should we believe you?" “Look, I was only trying to get Louise to shut the fuck up. She kept nagging me about what a dump we live in and I wanted her to stop. It was an accident." “You slit her throat on accident?” Martel asked in a mild voice. “Yeah, I did. It was an accident. I didn't kill those other two. No way did I kill those men." “We think you did, Dwaine." Dwaine looked completely panicked. “I want an attorney." Martel and his partner filed out of the room. Jake learned that the interview had gone on for hours. Jake couldn't believe it had taken Dwaine that long to ask for a lawyer. The guy must be a complete idiot. Everyone trooped out of the observation room with a relieved sigh. It was getting hot in there. Martel came out triumphant. “Looks like we can put the Apartment Slasher to bed.” He rubbed his hands together like a man about to be paid five hundred dollar bills from Bob Barker. Jake moved back across the room to him. “Martel, the same person did not commit all three of these murders.” He detoured to his desk and picked up the ME's report. “The two guys were done with the same knife but not the woman." “So he changed knives.” Martel shrugged it off. “Maybe for the next one, he was planning to use the
knife he used on the woman." Gordon moved into the conversation. “So you think he would kill his girlfriend with less passion then he would kill two strangers?" “Come on Gordon, he lived in the next building over from Daugherty. They had to have known each other. Maybe Daugherty and Dwaine's woman were having a little on the side." “Use your head Martel. Daugherty was twenty years her junior and from a different world. It doesn't ring true,” Jake said. “No accounting for love, boys. We all know God works in mysterious ways." “And Robb Connors? He is perhaps Dwaine's cousin?” Gordon's voice held no trace of sarcasm. “Look, the Lieutenant agrees with me on this.” Martel's frustration showed through his words. “I know you two don't like to be one-upped since you are the biggest case closers on the force, but I've got this one for the history books." Gordon asked a question that he and Jake had been tossing around for days now. “What's his motive for killing the two guys?" Martel nodded. “Struggled with that one myself, then it came to me. He did the two men to throw us off his trail. He really wanted to kill her so he killed the other two to conceal his crimes. Same thing happened in New York last year." Martel was right, the same thing had happened in New York last year. “But Martel,” Jake said. “Why isn't it as likely that he killed the woman to match what he read in the papers about the first murder to throw us off of him?" Martel's eyes narrowed. “He did all three, Jake. I can smell it." Jake caught his arm as he stormed away. “What color are his eyes?" “Is this some sort of How-Good-A-Cop-Are-You game? You're such a jerk Matherly. You've always been a jerk.” Martel shook with anger, and Jake could tell he honestly believed Jake was playing with him. Jake couldn't tell him why he asked the question without going into Susan's True Seeing, so he took his hand off Martel's arm and said, “I'm sorry I came across that way, Martel. Congratulations on your collar." Martel stormed off without a backwards glance. Jake and Gordon shared a look and turned as one to go back into the interrogation room. Jake threw himself into a chair across from Dwaine and sat looking at him until the man said, “You can't speak to me. I've asked for an attorney!" Jake leaned over to look long and hard at Dwaine's eyes before pushing back from the table with force. He shook his head once at Gordon and they both left the room. They had worked too long together to have to talk about the fact that they would continue to look for the Apartment Slasher, because old Dwaine had mud-brown eyes and motive to kill his girlfriend but not two other strangers.
They stopped in to talk to the Lieutenant on their way out. He agreed to keep them on the case and admitted there was a possibility that someone else had murdered the two men. “But you two had better keep this quiet. If I read in the newspapers that we are still looking for the Apartment Slasher, I will not be happy with you.” He looked down at a report on his desk. “Now get the fuck out of my office and go figure out if we've got the right guy for all three murders.” He stopped them before they were out the door when he added, “And if we don't, bring me whoever it is pronto. We need to put this to bed." Gordon and Jake exchanged a look but didn't comment as they walked out of the station. Chapter Thirteen
Susan looked at her watch. If she left now, she had time for an extra long run before she went to Georgia's to baby-sit. Grabbing her Walkman and her spare key, she was out the door and down the steps in a flash. She ran slowly to warm up, saving her stretching until the end, even though she knew that wasn't the way the experts said she should do it. But Susan hated working out and took shortcuts where she could. At least three days a week she did some sort of activity—racquetball, aerobics, running, power yoga. And she hated them all. She had been an overweight teenager and knew that only exercise stood between her and next size up in clothes. She started this run like she did all the others. Painfully. Her body groaned and her legs begged her to stop. It wasn't pleasant. But after the first fifteen minutes, her second wind kicked in and she felt the rush of new energy that always came if she made it past the beginning. When this happened, her thoughts turned to Jake. Their relationship was still up in the air. They hadn't resolved their issues. He seemed okay with her ‘gift’ in theory but he didn't ask to stay over last night and he hadn't kissed her goodnight. She had a strange tightening in her stomach that told her he might be about to end things. Or maybe he needed time to think about it all. Their relationship hung in limbo between a thing and a true we-are-dating-each-other gig. Or, she thought morbidly, it could be over. But what she did know was he had left her without telling her how he had felt about her True Seeing. He had gone into detective mode half way through their conversation and hadn't come out. Detective Matherly believed her and would use the information to help solve his case but she didn't know how Jake felt about all this. She should prepare for the worst. She wouldn't be one of those women who made an ass out of herself when their guy gave her the boot. She was a strong, independent woman who had lived through other heartaches and rejection and would get through it. For the first time, she truly understood why Briles kept going back to Benny, even when she knew they weren't going to be together. Maybe sometimes a taste of something was better than nothing. Susan tried to tell herself that a taste of Jake was better than never being with him, but couldn't help thinking that that was just so much bullshit people said to make the poor dumped person feel better. She added a bit of speed to her run when she realized she had slowed down. If Jake didn't want to date her because of the True Seeing, she would cut herself off completely. She wouldn't see him again if she could help it. It would be too painful.
The worst thought she had as she ran was that Jake could be thinking that a couple of times in the sack (or the kitchen or shower, as the case may be) didn't mean a whole lot to him. Sure, he'd said and done things that made her feel like he wanted more than just casual sex, but it might be a bunch of garbage. Maybe he would dump her and it had nothing to do with the True Seeing. Regardless, she needed answers from him. She would call him when she got home, before she went to baby-sit Georgia's brother. She would ask him out to dinner Monday night, at a public place where they would have a nice, mature, adult discussion about their relationship. Because knowing had to be better than this. Her heart constricted at the thought of losing him. God she loved him so much. How in the hell had that happened so quickly? She pushed herself into a faster run. If she were going to be dumped, at least she would have a nice body. Not that anyone but her would see it if she got the boot. When she got in sight of her apartment, she put on a burst of speed until she reached the sidewalk. For a few minutes, she walked back and forth, trying to catch her breath. She'd overdone it. Susan bent over, hands to her knees, and tried very hard not to throw up. **** Jake left the station with a sense of total frustration. They were no closer to finding the answers they needed after questioning Parker and searching his apartment. He had hoped something would turn up when they tossed his apartment. Parker had been at work until right before the second murder, making it tight time-wise for him to have gotten back to Malvern Manor. Without physical evidence, it would be hard to link him to the crimes. Jake had added the Dumpster in back of the apartment on the warrant but they hadn't turned up anything there, either. He could have dumped the clothes he was wearing in the twenty-four hours it had taken for them to get the warrant. The judge had taken some convincing, since the newspapers were saying they already had the right guy in custody. He and Gordon had agreed the best thing they could do now would be to re-canvass the apartment complex again. Starting tomorrow, they would methodically talk to every tenant, including a chat with Georgia and her brother. Jake wanted to speak with them and had gone by three times now but no one ever seemed to be home. Right now, he wanted to find Susan and talk to her about lying to her friends about him staying over last night. He had tried to call her to let her know he was coming, but had only gotten her answering machine. He made a mental note to get her cell phone. He figured he had a fifty-fifty chance that she was home. If she wasn't, he would go to the gym and get a workout in before he tried to track her down again. He had to admit, Courtney had a point when she said someone should stay with Susan until the murders were solved. He thought he was the ideal candidate for the job. As Jake drove to Susan's place, he thought for the first time about how her ‘gift’ would relate to him. It was the worst possible condition a woman with a cop as a boyfriend could have. He thought about coming home at night, after some crazy chopped his wife to bits or some drug dealer killed a kid or some hooker ended up with the wrong John. “Honey, I'm home,” he'd say, reaching out to embrace her with a hug. And then she'd See it all. And he'd be responsible for her nightmares. The car behind him honked and he realized that he had been sitting at a green light. He put his car in gear and drove on, his thoughts turning back to Susan.
For over eleven months now, he had wanted this woman more than he had ever wanted anything. Yeah, the sex was great. Fantastic, actually. In fact, just touching her lit him up like a Christmas tree. But that wasn't the only thing that made him want something long-term with her. He wanted to come in every night and give her a welcome home hug. He wanted to fix her breakfast and cuddle up to watch a movie with her on the couch. He just plain wanted her. All day, every day, in his life. And that meant they were going to have to figure out a way to deal with her ‘gift’ so he didn't accidentally cause her to need counseling. She had been able to See on command. It was possible there were many things she didn't know about her visions they could figure out together. Jake thought it was strange she could only See bad things. Other emotions could be as strong as fear or anger or guilt or horror or whatever it was that made her pick up people's memories. Lust, for example, could be as strong an emotion as fear. It was something to think about. He would bring it up tonight, as he held her on the sofa. After he gave her a hard time for lying to her friends last night. Jake grinned at the thought and increased his speed. **** Susan bent back over again to grab her knees as she tried to breathe normally. Thank God it was October, or she would have passed out from the heat. She'd pushed herself too hard on her run, not realizing it in her tumbled thoughts about Jake. She knew she might be blowing her worries about Jake all out of proportion. “You okay?” Georgia's voice came down from the landing on the second floor. Susan looked up and tried to smile. “Yeah. I pushed myself a little too hard on my run." Georgia and another person came down the stairs. Susan watched them emerge around the corner of the stairwell, still holding onto her knees, fighting waves of nausea. “Are you going out? I need to get a shower, then I'll be over to stay with your brother." “We're running to the McDonald's to get Samuel some dinner. I heard they caught the Apartment Slasher,” Georgia said, walking towards her. The large man behind her seemed to be studying the ground as he walked. When Georgia stopped in front of Susan, he automatically stopped, too. He acted as if he were on autopilot. He was wearing a green and black Eagles sports jacket, with the hood pulled up. Susan forced herself to stand up straight and again had to fight for a moment not to be sick. Her head was pounding. God, she'd overdone it. She had put her body through the mill this week. Maybe she needed a vacation. “One of the detectives on the case told me that he wasn't sure the guy they have in custody murdered all three of those people, so be careful Georgia." Georgia's face flashed surprise, then something else. “I thought they all had their throats cut?" “They did, but the two guys they found here had been stabbed repeatedly and there were other similarities that the woman's murder didn't have.” Susan watched Georgia's face reform into something like horror. Horror mixed with knowledge. “They have a witness who told them the guy that killed those two men here was wearing a yellow raincoat." Georgia's gaze sharpened. “I thought you were the only person who found both people after they were murdered, Susan?” She stepped forward and Susan fought the urge to step back. Something in Georgia's face was making Susan's stomach twist. Lie, her mind screamed.
“Actually, someone else told the police about the guy in the raincoat. I think it was an anonymous tip.” Susan knew she was the world's worst liar and, from the look on her face, Georgia knew it too. “Nice try, Susan.” Georgia's face showed what might have been regret. “But I know you're lying.” She shook her head sadly. “The worst part about this is I really liked you.” She looked around the deserted parking lot then at Susan. “You know what they say—blood is thicker than water. I can't have Samuel going to jail, Susan.” Susan inched backwards towards the parking lot as the other woman spoke, fighting the urge to run. “He's sick and needs help.” Georgia followed Susan and Samuel shuffled behind her. “He won't get the help he needs in jail." “Georgia, don't do anything stupid.” Susan tried to sound authoritative, but her voice came out as a squeak. Georgia smiled sadly, then turned to Samuel. “Samuel,” she said, “this woman is a little piggy." The man in the Eagles jacket looked up from the ground, raising his head in exaggerated slowness that seemed to be done for effect. Susan gasped when blue, blue eyes looked out of the hood at her. Samuel said, “Hello piggy." Susan's feet felt stuck to the sidewalk. Her mind shut down and she could do nothing, could not move or talk or even walk away. He stared at her and Susan knew that under the shadow of the hood, he smiled. Georgia stepped off the path into the grass, out of Samuel's way. Samuel took a step toward Susan. He reached his hand out to touch her, breaking the spell that held Susan immobile. No way was she letting this man touch her. No way was she going to share his memories. Because whatever created the man before her would be something she did not want to know about. Tripping, Susan fell onto the concrete. Hard. She sucked in air as she fought back pain and the nausea that returned in full force. “Georgia! Stop him! Please!” She screamed, unable to do anything about the panic in her voice. Georgia held up her hands in a gesture that said she was out of it now. “You should have kept your mouth shut to the police, Susan. There's nothing I can do now." Samuel looked at Susan, watching calmly as she struggled to regain her feet. “Hello piggy,” he said merrily. Run, run, run, run, run. Her flight instinct was in over drive but all Susan could do was back down the walkway. “Why did you kill those two men, Samuel?” Susan asked the question, not even caring about the answer. She was an attorney who specialized in negotiations. The first rule in a negotiation was that everyone had to be talking. If the people weren't talking, the negotiation was over before it even started. Dialog was the key. “Oink,” Samuel answered. Susan didn't think that counted as dialog. You couldn't negotiate with a loony-tune. She looked at Georgia but the woman stayed motionless by the path. When she glanced back at Samuel, he pulled a long carving knife from an inside pocket in his jacket and launched himself at her. Susan scrambled back as quickly as she could, her left foot suddenly coming down on air as she made it to the two steps that marked the descent into the parking lot. Then her whole body was flying and she screamed.
Samuel looked down on her from the top of the steps. Susan looked frantically around the lot. Where was everyone? Why was the damned parking lot empty? She looked back at Samuel, who took the first step down, his eyes glowing blue from the darkness of his hood. “Heeeellllpppp!” Susan screamed it as loud as she could. “Help, help, help!” She regained her feet. “I'll help you piggy,” Samuel said solemnly. Susan scrambled around a parked car as Samuel reached the parking lot level. Samuel started one way, and turned to go the other when she moved away from him around the car. He giggled. “Round and round we go, where we stop nobody knows,” he sang in an off-key child's voice, as they went around the car three times. He wasn't even close to her. Susan comforted herself that she could go around the car for the rest of her life if she had to. Someone was bound to see them out here soon. It was then that he chose to jump onto the hood, still giggling joyously. Susan turned to run and took half a step before he landed on her back. She skidded across the asphalt, feeling both knees shred painfully. The asphalt stopped her with a jolt, but Samuel's momentum kept him going, and he rolled to a stop several feet from her. Susan got up and put another car in between them. She had been exhausted from her earlier run but now her body was filled with energy, even as her fear was causing her to breathe in huge gasps of air. Think Susan, she urged herself. What did the self-defense class teach her about these kinds of situations? Call for help. Check. Done that. Give him your purse. Okay, that one was not all that applicable. Samuel started singing something that sounded like a perverted version of duck, duck, goose, circling her around the car. Susan braced herself for him to jump onto the car again. Then she saw Georgia walking towards them with a tree branch clutched in her hands. “Samuel, we must hurry,” Georgia called to her brother. “Someone could come along any minute. We don't have time for games.” Georgia walked down the two steps into the parking lot and Susan knew she would soon be trapped between them. She needed to take the initiative and go for one or the other. In a burst of speed, she ran towards Georgia, ducking when the woman brought the branch down, taking the blow on her shoulder. It hurt but she was still in motion, and her body hit Georgia's with enough momentum that Georgia fell back, her feet flying out from under her. Georgia's head hit the stairs with a sickly crack but Susan didn't wait to see what happened. She climbed the steps, scrambling over the other woman's body, one foot actually pushing off from her chest. “What is piggy doing?” Samuel asked the question from behind her in a tone a child might ask their parent why the sky was blue. Susan took off in a sprint across the lawn. She clutched her house key in her right hand, wanting to have it out and ready once she got to her door. Rounding the corner to take the stairs to the second floor, she saw that Samuel was right behind her. Catching her looking at him, he grinned and said, “Hello piggy!" A small scream came out of her mouth and she redoubled her efforts to climb the stairs. ****
Jake parked his car and jumped out, suddenly anxious to see Susan. Locking the car door, he heard someone moan and went around another parked car to see one of Susan's neighbors lying on the stairs, clutching a stick. “What's wrong?” He asked her, his body filling with an eerie feeling that told him he wasn't going to like her answer. Georgia caught his hand. “My brother can't go to jail. He's sick. He needs help." Jake didn't even think twice about leaving her when he heard Susan's scream. Grabbing his gun from his shoulder holster, he took off running, following Susan's footsteps across the lawn. “Hello piggy!” someone said merrily from the stairwell and Susan screamed again. Jake felt a tightening in his gut and tried to pick up his speed. Charging into the stairwell, he didn't think or act like a policeman. There was no way he would wait for backup. He had to get to her NOW. She was up on the landing, out of the stairwell. Jake came up to the second floor and everything seemed to go forward in half-time. Susan turned and something silver flashed in her hand as she brought her arm straight into her attacker's head. The man's body jerked as if he had been shot and he collapsed into the hallway, holding his face. With a look of pure horror, Susan fell against her door. “Get into your apartment and call the police,” Jake yelled, holding his gun pointed at the man on the ground. Jake still couldn't see his face. “I...” Susan face took on an ashen color that signaled that she might be sick. “I can't, Jake. I can't.” Her body shook so hard her voice shook with it. A man appeared on the landing a few apartments down. Jake yelled to him to call the police and he disappeared again. “Susan, you need to get into your apartment." “I can't. I can't get into my apartment.” She was breathing too hard and he knew that if she didn't slow down, she would start to hyperventilate. “Why not?” Jake wanted to shake her, but kept his focus on the man still moaning on the ground. “My key. My key is in his eye!" Jake glanced at Susan, the hand holding the gun still pointing at the man on the ground. She was covered in tears and sweat. Her knees were bleeding badly down into her white running socks. Her short hair was sticking out in all directions. But some of her personality was coming back. She seemed to be getting a hold of herself. Concentrating again on the man before him, Jake reached his left hand into his right pocket, a gesture that twisted his body, and held out his keys to her. “Go get the pair of handcuffs in my glove compartment.” Susan's hand paused in reaching for the keys when she met his gaze, her eyes scared. “Handcuffs, Susan,” Jake reminded her gently. Susan stood up using her door for leverage, carefully avoiding the man before her. Turning, she used the other stairwell to get down to the parking lot. Jake looked back at the man on the ground in time to
watch him pull the key out of his eye. It made a hushed sucking sound he could hear from where he stood at the railing. “Don't move,” Jake said in his cop voice. Jake was sure the doctors weren't going to be able to salvage the man's eye. The socket looked like it held a mass of bloody pulp. Jake took a steadying breath. “Hello piggy!” The man's voice was childlike and high. He struggled to sit up, not even fazed by the fact that one of his eyes had been torn apart. “Stay where you are,” Jake ordered. This guy is going to keep trying to get up. He didn't want to shoot him if he could help it. The man sat up and began to work himself onto his knees, saying, “Where's the other piggy? Where did the girl piggy go?" **** Susan ran down the steps, her legs shaking now that everything was over. She clutched the railing to keep herself upright, concentrating on moving so she didn't fall. Her body felt used up, each step an effort. As she rounded the corner, she heard the sirens at the same time she watched Georgia stagger to her feet. Susan had forgotten about her but now she had to get past her neighbor to get to Jake's car. Susan moved forward slowly, watching Georgia turn towards her. Talk, Susan. Talk to her. That's what you do, that's what you're good at. “Did you know, Georgia?” Susan watched a car pull into the parking lot. “Did you know he'd killed them?" Georgia still had the stick in her hands. She moved unsteadily up the two stairs. “He didn't mean to, Susan. He's sick. It was Robb's fault. Robb got him all riled up last Sunday." “Then why did he kill Jim Daugherty? He had nothing to do with Robb." Susan watched as Gordon got out of the car with his gun drawn but Georgia didn't even look back at him. She kept coming towards Susan, stick half raised. “He didn't mean to, Susan. It was a mistake. He was confused. He thought Jim was Robb. But then Robb came back to my apartment and Samuel followed him out onto the landing and killed him. He was trying to protect me from our uncle. He can't go to jail, Susan. He's very sick." “Put down the stick,” Gordon said, fanning out into the grass so that he made a triangle out of the three of them. Georgia's head turned slowly to Gordon. “Robb was a very bad man. He tried to attack me. He's always touched me, especially when he baby-sits after I get home from school.” Her voice had turned into that of a little girl. Gordon and Susan exchanged a glance. They didn't know what she was talking about now. “He had to die. He's the one that's the piggy, not us.” The branch dropped to the ground as if it had slipped from her grasp. Gordon moved in, taking her roughly to the ground and cuffing her hands behind her back. Susan moved past him towards Jake's car. “Jake needs his handcuffs out of his car,” she told Gordon in a slightly breathy voice that didn't sound like her own. “Take my extra ones.” She turned to accept them from him and started back up the stairs. Her legs felt
like they were attached to lead weights. **** Jake could hear Susan coming up the stairs behind him and made an executive decision that he would probably have to answer to his Lieutenant for later. He kicked the Piggy Man, who was still struggling to stand, right in the face as hard as he could. Piggy Man went down in a heap. Yep, I would say that that was excessive force, Jake thought with satisfaction. Susan handed him the handcuffs, her eyes still glazed over, and he rolled Piggy over and put the cuffs on. He could hear the sirens get louder as the police cars turned into the parking lot. Turning to look at Susan, Jake realized that the sun was setting. It was gorgeous—shades of reds, yellows and oranges lit the sky behind her. Putting an arm around her shoulders, he turned her from Piggy. “Look, the sun is setting. Everything's going to be okay." Susan looked at the sun and then turned to look at Jake. She screamed as Samuel fell into her, his arms still cuffed behind his back. Jake jumped back from her, completely taken off guard, then grabbed Samuel by the shoulder and wrestled him down to the ground. It was too late. Susan had grabbed onto Samuel as he fell, and she was swept into a vision. **** "I'm telling, this time I'm telling. I mean it!” The boy backed into the living room wall, his whole body trembling uncontrollably. Laughter followed him. “Oh come on, Sammy, you say that every time." Samuel shook his head back and forth, back and forth, “This time I'm going to. It's going to stop." "What's going to stop, Sammy boy?” The tall, black-haired man got up and walked towards him. "You, touching me.” Samuel's lips were trembling so hard that spit began to stream down the side of his mouth. “I'm telling mother.” His hands splayed out in front of himself as if to ward off the man. "I'm telling mother, I'm telling mother.” The man mimicked in a high, whiney voice. “You are so pathetic, Sammy. So damned pathetic. Your parents think so, too, or they wouldn't have left you home every day with me, now would they?” The man took another step forward to tower over the 10-year-old boy. “You're such a little piggy, Sammy. Oink, oink, oink.” The man's face leaned into the boy's, his good-looking features screwed up into a twisted mask. “Oink for me, Sammy the piggy.” The man laid his hands on the wall on either side of the boy's head. Samuel whispered, “No,” with the last bit of his will power. The man's hand, quick as a snake, grabbed Samuel's scrotum and gave it a vicious tug. “Oink, or you'll pay." Samuel knew the price, had paid it before so he did what he was told. But from somewhere hidden came a powerful calm, a new Samuel rising up. This Samuel knew what to do, would stop this man who was supposed to be his uncle. He felt power well up within him, felt his strength doubling, tripling. And he knew what to do with a clarity of mind that he had never had before.
So the new Samuel waited until it was over, doing what he was told for the last time, and went into the kitchen. Taking his mother's biggest knife out of the block, he walked back into the living room, where his uncle was on the phone with one of his many women, saying, “Yeah, babe, I'd love to come over tonight. You know I love watching you dance. You going to dance for me tonight?” He said it in the same voice he sometimes talked to Sammy-the-pig in. His uncle had a date most nights of the week. The new Samuel knew his mother would never again have to worry about his uncle settling down, would never have to worry about him reaching his 26th birthday without finding that special someone. Because the new Samuel grabbed his uncle's black hair, pulled his head to the back of the sofa with superhuman force, and slit his neck from one side to the other. The new Samuel walked slowly around to smile at his uncle. “Oink,” new Samuel said. And then, watching the horror in his uncle's eyes as he died, new Samuel said, “Oink,” forty-nine more times, each time driving the knife into his chest to the hilt. **** Jake knew Susan was caught in a vision and punched the large man in the face as hard as he could, his only thought to protect her. He moved the Pig Man away so that no part of him was in contact with any of Susan's now motionless body. “Susan,” he said calmly, shaking her to get her to come back. God only knew what she was Seeing. Something terrible that would come back in her dreams. She blinked as she regained consciousness and he lowered her to sit on the ground. After assuring himself that she was going to be okay, he went back to the Pig Man, who seemed to be reviving. Putting a knee in his back where Jake knew it would hurt, he kept the struggling man pinned. “Jesus, this guy is like the Energizer Bunny,” he said to no one in particular. “Having problems Detective Matherly?” Gordon's voice drawled from behind him. “This seems to happen whenever you get to the scene before me." “Shut up, Miles.” Jake looked over at Susan. “Susan, are you okay?" “His uncle.” Her voice was dreamy and far away. “Gordon, their uncle abused them when they were kids. They were alone with him after school and he abused them. He molested them both.” She shuddered. “Don't think about it Susan.” Jake's only concern was for her. Screw the case. “Georgia told her brother that Robb was their uncle,” Susan went on as if she hadn't heard him. “She's sick, too, but she's hiding it better than he is. She wanted Robb to leave her alone permanently." “Why kill Daugherty then?” Gordon asked. He had taken out his notebook and started writing. “Georgia said it was a mistake. That Samuel thought he was Robb." “That was one hell of a mistake,” Jake said, still pinning Samuel done with his knee. “Let's get a search warrant for the apartment before we enter it.” Gordon flipped open his cell phone. “We want to do this one by the book."
Chapter Fourteen
Susan's life had been hell for the last two weeks, but now it was Saturday, and Jake was coming over for a talk. Susan wasn't sure how she felt about the word talk. After all, it sounded ominous. She hadn't seen him since about 3 a.m. on Monday morning when he'd taken her home from the hospital, although he'd called her every day to see how she was doing. Their conversations had been reserved and short. He had seemed distracted, working on wrapping up his case, and she hadn't helped matters by being all kinds of internally stressed about their relationship. They still had never really talked about his feelings about her True Seeing and she didn't know how he felt about it. And they had never been officially dating, anyway. They had only really had a string of the hottest sex known to man. Susan sighed. She wished it was as simple as just sex for her, but of course, she couldn't do anything simple. She didn't even know how he felt about her and she had to go and fall in love with him. Susan wished he would arrive so whatever was going to happen, would happen. She picked up her phone and called Briles. “B,” she said, “I need some cheering up." “Sweetie! What's wrong? Tell Briles all.” Briles’ voice was melodramatic on the other end of the phone. Susan loved the fact that Briles almost never took life seriously. “I think my love interest is on his way over to give me the let's-be-friends blow-off." “The detective?” Briles’ voice became fierce. “How dare he! You're the best thing for him, the asshole." Susan laughed. “You don't know that!" “I know that you are the best thing for any man, once you decide you want a man, that is." Susan gave an over-exaggerated sigh. “His loss, I guess." “Damn straight, his loss!” Briles’ voice became calm. “Still, you sound a lot more upset than you were when things went down the tubes with John Walters six months ago." “John was an ass. I had to control myself from singing a round of ‘Ding Dong the Witch is Dead’ when he dumped me that night." “Guess I knew it wasn't the real thing when you two never did the beast with two backs. How are you really feeling about this?" Susan let the joking go out of her voice. “Like shit." “That bad?” Briles’ voice lost its amusement. “Yep. I've got it bad for him. I don't honestly know if he's going to show up here tonight to dump me or to ask me to be the mother of his children.” This got a laugh out of Briles as Susan had known it would. “I wouldn't write him off yet. He was amazing when he dealt with the whole Benny mess. I can't imagine he did that for me." “I don't know. He's a cop. Maybe he did it because it's his job."
“To get my purse back from Benny? Come on Susan, use your head. He did it for you. By the way, thanks for keeping that to yourself. I don't think I want anyone else to know I made a jerk out of myself again." “Come on. You know I can keep a secret." “On the very off chance that he does give you the old heave-ho, you want to get together for a good cry tonight?" “That would be just what the doctor ordered. Thanks, Briles." “Hey, I've cried on you enough. And I can give you the latest installment of my crush on Charles Morton. His wife left him last weekend.” Charles Morton was one of the married partners in the firm. Briles thought he was cute. Susan thought any new guy was an improvement over Benny. Charles would be a good way to break away from her bad cycle. “So he's up for grabs, huh?" “Oh yes. Guess who got a phone call? You'll have to wait until tonight for all the details, though." “Now that will be worth waiting for! About seven o'clock? We can meet over here if you want." “Sounds good. Call me to confirm if he decides to make the dumbest decision of his life.” Briles paused before she hung up. “And Susan, it really is his loss if he does break up with you. Don't forget that." “I won't,” Susan lied, and hung up the phone. She felt better having talked to Briles. With an hour to go before Jake was supposed to get to her apartment, Susan went and dumped her sock drawer out on her bed and began to match up pairs. She might as well do something useful while she waited for him. “I don't think you are ever going to learn to lock your door, are you?” Jake's voice behind her caused Susan to scream as she whirled around to face him. “Oh my God,” she breathed, clutching two socks to her chest. “I cannot believe you scared me like that." “Why didn't you lock your door?" “Why didn't you knock?" “I was checking to see if you locked up, which you didn't.” Jake gave her a seriously put-out look. “You are so in need of a keeper." “And you are so in need of a manners lesson. People don't walk in uninvited to other people's houses." “Last time I looked, this was an apartment and when people are dating, they don't have to knock." Susan drew herself up. “I wasn't aware that we were dating, Jake." “Oh God, don't start this again."
“Start what?" “This ‘I'm not dating you’ thing. Of course we're dating." “Really? I thought dating meant seeing one another. You've been MIA this whole week!" Jake's mouth dropped open. “I've called you every night!” He walked up to her, looming over her in an intimidating manner she was secretly beginning to find amusing. “And you were completely cold on the phone." “I've been finishing up a murder case. And I had something else I needed to take care of." Susan wanted to take a step back from him but refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead, she placed a finger in the middle of his chest and pushed. “One giant step back, Big Guy.” Jake didn't move an inch, which caused Susan to review ways in her mind that she could get him to back up. “Don't even think about it,” Jake warned. “Think about what?” she asked him sweetly. “I don't know but it didn't look good, judging from the look on your face a second ago." Susan narrowed her eyes. “What did you have to take care of?" Her question caused Jake to take a giant step back all by itself. He ran his fingers through his hair and stared down at the socks scattered all over her bed. “I went to see my mother." “Really!” Susan closed the distance between them, touching his arm. “That's wonderful, Jake. How did things go?" Jake made a face and tipped his head from side to side. “Fair. It wasn't one of those Oprah reunions, but we were civil to one another." “Why did you change your mind about seeing her?" He met her gaze for the first time since they started talking about his mother. “I guess it was our conversation last weekend that did it. So when she called for her monthly check-up, I shocked her by not hanging up the phone. I ended up taking the day off yesterday and driving all the way up to New York to have lunch with her. I figured a restaurant would be a good place to meet for the first time.” It didn't sound like Jake had one hundred percent forgiven his mother, but it was a good start. “Wow, Jake! That's awesome. Will you be spending the holidays with her?" “Whoa now, Susan. Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. Just because I met her for lunch does not mean she's my best friend now." “But holidays are times you spend with family. You know. Christmas? Thanksgiving? I haven't spent Christmas with family since I went to college."
Jake disengaged himself from her grasp. “Susan. I'm not going to change my life over one lunch we had together. I'm only exploring possibilities right now.” Jake looked around. “What are you doing? Cleaning out your sock drawer?” A lazy grin spread across his face. Susan decided to let him change the subject away from his mother. She had more important things to talk to him about. “We are not talking about my socks right now. We were talking about our relationship—or lack thereof. I think we should get back to that." Jake looked back at her from his sock musings, his gaze sharpening. “I'm not going there again with you. We are dating. Period. End of story. And the next time I catch you forgetting to lock your door, I'm moving in to keep a better eye on you." Susan's stomach did a flip. “You want to move in with me?" Jake seemed to consider it for a moment and then nodded. “Yes, I think I do." “Wait a second, Jake. You can't be serious." “Of course I'm being serious. Scratch that. I want you to move in with me. This apartment is tiny.” He looked around as if he found her apartment distasteful. “My apartment has character. Your apartment is completely boring. It's all white walls and boring carpet." “When's your lease up?" Susan thought about living with someone—someone like Jake. Waking up everyday of her life and seeing him there beside her. Sharing meals. Talking about mundane things such as what happened at work. Making love. Having his stuff all over her apartment. And she knew, in that moment, that it would be wonderful. It sounded perfect and she wanted it more than she had wanted anything in her life. “Not until March,” she answered him with a smile. “Mine's up in December, so it looks like we live here until March and then we'll go looking for a bigger place." “Jake, you're crazy, you know that?" He grinned at her. “Yep.” Then he looked serious. “Are you pregnant?" “No.” A one-word answer was all she was going to say to him about it. Jake looked at her for a long moment then nodded to himself. “We'll have kids later, I guess." Susan looked at him and made herself blink a couple times to make sure she hadn't dozed off and was having one of the weirdest dreams in history. Of course, she wouldn't have had a dream that included Jake busting her cleaning out her sock drawer. “Jake, we haven't even talked about my problem and how you feel about it and you've got us shacking up and having children. Don't you think we should back up a bit here?" Jake's face became serious. “I've been thinking about your gift, Susan. It's going to have to be something we work on because what I do for a living means that I see things that would give the average person
nightmares. I don't want to come home from work and pass that stuff onto you by accident." Susan's mind was stuck in a circle. Why wasn't he more upset about this? He didn't seem to be running from her, which was odd. Why not? “Why aren't you dumping me over this?" Jake's mouth tipped up with his inner amusement, although she could tell he was fighting it. “The way your mind works is absolutely fascinating to me. First, you agree to live with me and now you ask why I'm not dumping you. Why would I? I've been trying to date you for almost a year now, Susan. I just got you and as far as I'm concerned, I'm keeping you. We'll work through all the issues we have to if we both want this badly enough." “Jake, you're not going to be able to keep things from me,” she warned. “Susan, I don't want to keep things from you.” Jake placed his hands on her shoulders and she felt a jolt. “Feel that? Every time, the electricity jumps like that between us.” Jake leaned down to meet her gaze without her having to strain her neck to look up at him. “What we have is so damn rare, Susan. It's once in a lifetime. Your ability to True See is a minor bump in the road for us, compared to the up side." “You say that now, but when I steal a memory from you that you don't want me to have, you'll change your tune.” Susan agonized over the fact that she was opening herself up to her most vulnerable, but she had to lay it all out on the table for him. “No, I won't.” Jake's voice held a finality in it that didn't leave her any room to argue. “I want you to share it all. I only want to be careful I don't hurt you in the process.” He grinned at her. “So I was thinking we could experiment with it." “Experiment?” The man was insane. He wanted to play around with something she had tried to deny for fifteen years. He wanted her to use her gift on purpose. Again. “Jake, this isn't some toy you can play with." “Of course it isn't. But I don't know how you can write it off as all bad if you haven't even explored fully what it is.” Jake pulled her down to sit on her bed among all the socks. “Why is it that you only See things that are bad? Don't you think you could See good things too?" Susan's mind started churning through the possibilities. “Like what?" “Like lust, for example. Couldn't you See a really highly charged sex scene? I mean, let's say I was thinking about that little episode we had last Saturday at my apartment. Could you See it?" Susan looked down at her hands, thinking about the secrets she'd stolen from her mother. What if she Saw them, not because of her mother's guilt as she had thought, but because her mother's emotions were charged with lust? How crazy would that be? The thought creeped her out. She wasn't sure she wanted to think about her mother lusting after anyone. “I don't know but it would make sense that I could, I guess." Jake pulled her more into the center of her bed, tucking his legs in Indian style. Susan mirrored him. He seemed so pleased with himself. He looked adorable sitting surrounded by her socks. She grinned at the thought. He would not like it if he knew she thought he was adorable. “Okay, here's what we are going to do. I'm thinking about a little scene that is way sexy. You touch me and drop your shields.” He looked at her, all expectation.
Susan reached out and took his hands in hers. Closing her eyes so she wouldn't see his face, since he was starting to make her feel embarrassed, she dropped her shields and Saw. They were in his bedroom. It must have been this past Saturday before she found the second body. Susan had never Seen a vision in which she was a participant and that alone made the experience different from any other that she had ever had. She Saw herself lying naked on his bed, but she felt all the things Jake was feeling, intertwined with her own emotions. **** He wanted the woman on the bed more than he had ever wanted anyone else in his life. He wanted to spread her legs and ram into her as hard as he could. He wanted to feel her come around his shaft, hear her scream his name again and again. But they couldn't, they didn't have any protection. He leaned down and kissed her stomach, thinking about their child that might even now be growing there. It made him hard and heavy for her but he ignored his own needs, looking up at her face to see her reaction. God she was beautiful. As his mouth traveled over her hips, he could tell she was completely aroused. He widened her legs and breathed in her scent, loving the fact that she smelled slightly of him now—that their scents were beginning to become one. As if he had marked her as his. She was his. He lowered his mouth to run his tongue inside the folds of her most feminine place, loving that she arched for him. He kept the pace deliberately slow as he began to lick her clitoris, holding off her climax as long as he could, wanting to bring her maximum satisfaction. He was so turned on, he climaxed when she did, coming on the sheets between her legs, surprising himself with his lack of control. Holding her hips still, he ran his tongue across her one last time, reveling in her taste and the involuntary jump her body gave as it remembered the pleasure he had just given it. His. She was his. **** Susan opened her eyes slowly, fully turned on by knowing that he found her so beautiful and that he had been turned on by giving her pleasure. “God I love you,” she said, the words escaping without her even being aware she had said them. Jake leaned over, his brown eyes turning cinnamon with his desire. “Good, because I love you.” His lips brushed hers. “I want you to sleep every night curled up beside me. I want you to love me forever. You are the woman for me, Susan. I knew it eleven months ago when we first met." Susan looked at Jake, her stomach flip-flopping and her mind bouncing with joy. He loved her, all of her, including her so-called gift. He loved her so much that he had given her the first positive experience she'd ever had with her True Seeing. She felt like he had released her from a curse. “Want to move in tonight?” she asked, still not sure if he'd been serious. Jake nodded. “Okay." “It's official then. We have graduated from a thing, to dating.” Susan needed to hear the words. “No, Susan. We passed dating and are now officially courting." Susan eyebrows drew together in a line. “What?"
Jake grinned. “That's Gordon's word. I think it's in between dating and marriage." Susan thought about it for a few minutes and knew he was right. They had something here that was more than mere dating. “Courting sounds good to me." “Come on.” Jake pulled her out of bed. “You can help me pack up my stuff at my place." “Jake, you're not moving in here for real are you?" “And have you change your mind? We're taking the first load of stuff over here tonight. I can take the drawer you emptied out for me.” He grinned at her, delighted by her startled reaction. “Grab a pair of socks from the bed and your tennis shoes. We've got work to do." “Wait,” Susan said, reaching for the phone beside her bed. “I need to call Briles." “Why?" Susan felt her face turn red, but tried to hide it. “We had plans tonight." Jake looked exasperated. “But you already had plans with me." “I had back-up plans with her, in case you dumped me.” Susan grinned at him as Jake threw up his hands. “What am I going to do with you Susan?" Her face grew serious as their gazes locked. “Love me?" “Count on it,” Jake said. The End. About the Author:
Leigh Wyndfield has been writing for years but finally decided to get serious in 2003. When she finished her first book, True Seeing, she was surprised to learn she'd written a Romantica novel, especially since she can't watch the kissy bits during movies. She lives in Virginia. Enjoy free short stories and upcoming book excerpts from Leigh Wyndfield at her website, www.leighwyndfield.com or email her at
[email protected] Visit www.liquidsilverbooks.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.
