Possession (3 page)

* * * *

“Friggin’ hell! Can you believe it? A psychic!”

Sam glanced sideways at his partner. The scowl on the man’s face looked permanent. “Chill, bro. No judging until we get there, okay?”

Silence flowed past them, as well as the scenery. Apparently this woman lived in the older part of town. Either she was from old money, or she was a sitting duck for the dregs of humanity. Not a good choice, either way.

He glanced again at the man sitting in the passenger seat. One thing Kiel was never good at was disguising his emotions. “Hey, don’t worry. If you can fool a precinct full of experienced cops, this woman won’t be able to figure it out, either. So chill. Put on your best homicide detective guise, and I’ll do most of the talking.” He made a motion toward the folder in the man’s lap. “What did you find out?”

Kiel snorted. “Not a helluva lot personally. But she’s been instrumental in at least seven cases, three voluntarily and four by request.”

“Any idea how she works?”

“Works?”

“Yeah. Like, does she roll her eyes back into her head and go into a coma, and act as if she’s possessed? Does she use a crystal ball or some of them Tarot cards? Or does she hear little voices in her head telling her who’s guilty?”

“You’re nuts.” Kiel sneered.

“Yeah? Well, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?” Sam shot right back. Several long seconds passed, when Sam shook his head. “Sorry, Kiel. I went over the line.”

“No. It’s understandable.” The man snorted again. “There isn’t a person alive who can say that what we’re having to go through is normal.”

“Alive or dead.” Sam tried to smile over his bad pun, but failed. “Twenty-one twelve. Was that the address?”

“Yeah. Oh, wow.”

“Yeah. Wow.”

Their first impression of the old house was awe. Someone had taken the time, trouble, and money to keep it looking almost as it must have appeared when it had first been built. Right down to the gingerbread scrollwork and handcarved wooden balustrades and porch railings. Overall it was a bright, sunny yellow with warm brownish trim. A profusion of sunflowers overflowed in the flowerbeds. A white rocking chair with a red-checked cushion moved lazily at the end of the porch. The place look appealing and inviting. As friendly and inviting as a step back in time.

“How old is this Laurent woman?”

Kiel flipped open the folder. “Doesn’t say.”

“I got five bucks that says she could be our grandma.”

“I’m not taking that bet, Sam. Why else would she need an escort back to the station? She can’t drive. Probably doesn’t even own a car.”

They pulled into the gravel driveway. At that instant they were faced with what was left of the garage. “It’s a greenhouse,” Kiel stated the obvious.

“Yeah. Probably uses it to grow the herbs she needs to concoct her potions and stuff.”

Kiel snickered.

They got out of the car and followed the brick walkway to the porch. Taking the short steps to the front door, Sam raised his hand to knock on the door. But before he could complete the gesture, the door opened. Both men did a mental and physical step back.

The woman was covered so completely, only her face was visible. Oh, but what a face. It was the face of a world-class model. Young, with perfect angles and not a blemish to be seen. Lightly arched brows were the color of caramels. She was wearing a shapeless shift in a bluish
-
gray color. A scarf in similar shades was tied over her head, hiding the rest of her hair. But that face, those ripe lips…and those eyes.

Kiel was the first to speak. “Hello. I’m Detective Stark. Will you please let Miss Laurent know my partner and I are here?”

The lovely woman stared at him as a frown slowly darkened the perfect face. Kiel realized with a start that she wore a pale gloss over her full lips. Otherwise her face was bare of makeup. More amazing were her eyes. They were hazel in color, except for the outer edges which were brown. Very unusual. Very arresting.

“Who?” she repeated.

Kiel paused. Was she asking who they were? Or who they had come to get? He decided to try again. Reaching inside his jacket, he produced his bifold and flipped it open to show her his ID and badge. “We’re Detectives Stark and Reese. We’re from the Aaron Street Station. Our captain sent us over to take Miss Laurent over to a crime scene. Will you let her know we’re here?”

“Who are
you
?”

His mouth felt dry. It was a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to. Even spookier was the definitely perplexed expression growing more pronounced on the woman’s countenance. He started to comment on it when Sam came up behind him.

“Would you tell your mother we’re here?”

The woman’s gaze shifted immediately over to Sam. Quietly she replied, “The name is pronounced ‘Leh-
rahnt
’. And my mother died twenty years ago.” Her mouth drew into a thin line. “I’m J Laurent. I’m the person Captain Redd phoned to ask for help.”

“You live here alone?” Sam asked.

Her gaze shifted from Sam back to Kiel, and the perplexed look increased. “Who are you?” she repeated.

“I’m Detec—”

“I know what you’re saying,” she abruptly cut in. “Maybe I’m not making myself clear. Maybe I should be asking
what
are you?”

Sam glanced at his partner to see the man grow pale. It shocked him. “Miss Laurent, is there a problem?”

Instead of answering, she stuck a hand out in Kiel’s direction, fingers spread. “Let me touch you,” she ordered. Demanded.

At that moment both men understood the truth.

J Laurent was blind.

Steeling himself, Kiel walked toward her and held out a hand. Sam held his breath as the woman’s fingers came in contact with his partner’s.

A stream of warmth flowed through him. The sensation was enough to make him jerk away. J tilted her head in his direction, but the puzzled look remained stamped on her beautiful features. Underneath the flawless complexion, her skin paled.

An uncomfortable silence passed between them until Sam cleared his throat and stepped forward to offer his arm. “Miss Laurent, we need to be going. Here. Let me help you to the car.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but decided not to. Reaching around, she closed the door, locked it, then stuffed the key in a side pocket of her dress. She placed a hand on Sam’s arm, and the three of them walked back to the car.

“Let me sit in the back,” she requested in a no-nonsense tone.

Sam looked at his partner, then nodded before opening the door to help her inside. Quietly the two men got into the front seat.

“We’re taking you directly to the scene of the crime,” Kiel began. His voice was quivering. In fact his whole body was still shaking from the contact. Her touching him for just those few seconds had felt like standing in front of a heater, with wave after wave of warmth washing over him. It had been a very long time since he’d felt that kind of warmth from another human being. Not even Sam gave him that kind of intense reaction.

“I would appreciate it if you would give me a direct answer,” J requested again. This time her tone was more derisive, and silently brooked no further delay.

Turning in his seat so he could look back at her, Kiel repeated, “You mean what am I? I’m a detective with the force. Homicide division.”

Her eyes seemed to bore straight through him, but their effect on him was even more pronounced. For the first time in the month since it had happened, Kiel Stark felt totally exposed and vulnerable. Extremely vulnerable.

And turned on.

Geez! Get a grip on yourself! You of all people can’t be feeling this!

But he was, and he was damned if he could understand why.
Why?
Why?

J chewed on her lower lip. Kiel could see her teeth were like little white pearls. A flash of desire stroked him, surprising him, and for once he was glad she couldn’t see the hunger he knew had to be in his eyes.

“That’s not what I mean, and you damn well know it.” Her head swiveled in Sam’s direction. “You, Detective, I have no problem with. But
you
.” She turned back to Kiel. “There’s something about you that’s throwing all my beliefs into a meat grinder and grinding them to bits. You have the aura, but I can touch you. What’s going on, Detective? You frighten me, and I don’t like this feeling. Not one bit. If I’m going to help you solve this case, we need to be upfront with each other, and now. Or else I’m going to have to call your captain back and tell him to send me two other men, or I’m bowing out.” She paused, and Kiel could hear her racing heart. He could also see her visibly attempting to slow down her breathing.

“I-I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. You know you’re different from your partner there. What did you say your name was?”

“Stark. Kiel Stark.”

“And you?” she asked Sam.

“Sam Reese.”

Again she turned her head from one to the other, her eyes stable and unmoving, yet still mesmerizing. “You’re related.”

“Yeah,” Kiel admitted. “We’re half-brothers.”

A tiny ghost of a smile touched those full lips. “Different last names. You must share a mother.”

“How would you know we’re related?” Sam asked. They were nearing the feeder road which would take them straight to the main highway.

“You both have the same shape aura, but they’re different. If you were full brothers, your auras would be almost identical, except for their color.”

“What color is mine?” Kiel smiled.

She must have heard the amusement in his tone. “I don’t know how to explain color to you, Detective Stark, because I’ve been blind since birth. So the way I define color is nothing like your definition.” Once more the frown darkened her face, and her tone suddenly became harder. “But something isn’t right here, and I don’t like it. Detective Stark, is there a reason why your aura is full of light?”

He shrugged, then realized she couldn’t see it. “I thought auras were made of light anyway. Besides, how would you know about light if you’re blind?”

“Because my grandmama explained to me about light. It’s like the sun. Or the heat from a lamp, or a candle flame. I’ve felt all manner of heat, and that’s the kind that surrounds you. Lots of light and heat, bright and glowing. It’s not the same kind of aura normal people have, Detective.”

“Not like mine?” Sam piped up, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

“No.” She shook her head slightly. “Normal people’s auras have their own color. Their own personal brightness, until they die. And then their auras make this unexplained flash of light, like a big burst of energy, before the aura fades and disappears.” Her sightless eyes seemed to reach into Kiel for the truth. “You’re not alive, but you’re not dead. You’re stuck somewhere in the middle, in the midst of that gigantic flash. You’re burning so brightly, you’re like this enormous beacon. But…but I touched you. I felt your hand.” Her voice grew softer. “Are you dead, Detective? Or do you have some sort of fatal disease which has you teetering on the edge of that abyss?”

“If you’re wanting to know if I’m dangerous, the answer is no,” Kiel began to explain slowly, when Sam broke in.

“This’ll have to wait, everyone. We’re here.”

* * * *

Kiel opened the car door for her, stopping himself just short of reaching out to take her arm. It was a gesture he normally would have thought nothing about a month ago. Fortunately Sam came around the back of the car and offered his arm to help guide her into the condemned apartment building. Still, he couldn’t help the little shiver that ran through him when J turned around to give him a sad look. If he didn’t know better, he would swear she had wanted to touch him again.

They broke the police barrier tape on the door and entered the building. The scene of the crime was on the third floor. Silently they took the stairs since power had been shut off to the building some time ago.

Keeping behind her, Kiel watched the way the woman’s backside swayed when she walked. It would have been nicer if there had been a bit more definition to that bottom, but her choice of attire did a better than average job of keeping her concealed. That dress shielded her femininity like a damn burqa
.

“Anything yet?”

He saw her smile. “I’m soaking it all up like a sponge, Detective. Give me a bit longer to sort out the details.”

Kiel glanced up at Sam, who shot him back one of those
be careful
looks he saw too frequently these days.

They continued climbing until they reached the third landing. Kiel followed along behind them instead of going on ahead as he normally would. Whenever he and Sam were on a case, just the two of them, he could be a bit freer with his newfound abilities. This having to play it totally on the level was leaving an irksome taste in his mouth that he was surprised to discover he didn’t like. The woman was blind, for goodness sake!

Yeah, but she was also as sharp as a finely honed blade. Blindness, in this case, wasn’t her weakness. If he tried any one of his stunts, as Sam sometimes called them, Kiel knew the woman would call him out on them.

Pausing outside of apartment number 316, Sam gave him a nod to go ahead. Sounding a quick sigh, Kiel tore off the tape barring them from entering and gave the handle a little jiggle to make it sound like he was using a key to open the door. Then he quickly went through the steel partition, into the apartment, and unlocked the door from the other side. J wore a little smile but said nothing, and for a second he wondered if the woman was aware of the little trick he’d pulled. Mentally shrugging, Kiel decided not to say anything unless she brought it up first. They were here to investigate a triple homicide, not discuss the attributes of a man who had died over a month ago.

Sam clicked on his flashlight and quickly scanned the empty room. Both men watched as the woman stepped over the threshold, then paused. She dropped her hand from Sam’s arm to wrap both of her arms about her chest. Kiel realized the woman was cold, or at least shivering from something like cold. The impulse to put his own arms around her to stave off the chill was like an ache he couldn’t ignore, but he could fight it. Maybe because of her disability, J Laurent exuded defenselessness. But she also possessed a sense of calm strength he found intriguing.

Silently the detectives watched and waited for the seer to make a statement, allowing her to either prove or disprove their half-formed opinions about her. J took two steps into the room and stopped. She turned in a full circle as she continued to rub her arms against the chill, even though the temperature outside had to be hovering in the seventies.

“Three people died here,” she informed them.

Sam snorted. Kiel knew why. The news of the murders had been splashed all over the papers and television for the past week.

“They died the same way two others died.” She lifted her face in their direction. “You have two more bodies at the morgue who fit the same MO.”

Now that bit of information was something that hadn’t been released to the press. Nor was it common knowledge among the rest of the other investigators. Kiel felt a grin come over him as Sam’s eyebrows lifted a good half-inch.

J took another four steps into the room until she was facing the back wall of the living area. Turning slightly to her left, she indicated the back rooms with a lift of her chin. “Are the bedrooms there? I’m feeling something from that direction.”

“Damn,” Sam muttered under his breath.

Kiel concurred. The bodies had been found in the very last bedroom. Again, undisclosed information.

Normally he wouldn’t have given much credence to her findings. Nearly two-thirds of all homicides took place in the victim’s bedroom. Beds made a perfect stage for such horrors. But in this case all three victims had been slaughtered—and slaughtered was the only word Kiel could find to describe what he’d seen. All three had been found together in the back bedroom at around eight p.m. The coroner had put their deaths at approximately one in the afternoon. Which begged the question: What would three grown men be doing in a back bedroom at one o’clock in the middle of a weekday?

“Detective Stark, would you show me the way, please?”

He started. She seemed to feel his reluctance, and held out a hand that trembled slightly.

“Please?” she reiterated, waiting.

He gave his brother a little nod, and Sam tried to slip in.

J immediately lifted her hand. A scowl crossed her features. “Don’t ever try to do that again,” she admonished Sam darkly. “The difference I see between you and your brother is as obvious as dark and light to me.” She looked straight at Kiel. “I have my reasons for wanting you to guide me back there.”

Giving himself a moment to collect himself, Kiel walked over and held out an arm.

He thought he had prepared himself for her contact. He thought he could handle her touch this second time. How wrong he was.

He saw her hand descend upon the sleeve of his jacket. Saw it. Felt it. And his whole body seemed to melt from the warm summer breeze blowing over him. Through him. Smelling sweetly scented like flowers in a meadow.

Closing his eyes, he could remember days from his childhood when he would climb the huge cottonwood in his backyard and sit up there for hours reading a book. Reading, napping, and letting the sun and wind flow over him. It was his most favorite childhood memory.

It all came back to him now. The memory. The feel. The smell. And, most of all, the sense of utter peacefulness it had given him.

And then it was gone. J’s fingers tightened slightly over his arm. Without thinking, Kiel placed his other hand over hers to help steady her nerves. It was like holding a warm rose.

Slowly they walked down the narrow hallway, passing the second bedroom and bath, until they reached the back bedroom. It was pitch black, but Kiel could see his way as clearly as if it was daylight. J, of course, wouldn’t know any difference. They paused in the doorway as if he instinctively knew she would hesitate there.

He kept his eyes on her face, on the expressions he saw flit across her skin and the surface of her eyes. She flinched twice, and her smooth skin appeared to grow paler.

Suddenly she took a step back, and her fear was a taste of acid that jolted him. “Kiel. It’s still here,” she whispered hoarsely.

“What’s still here?”

“That thing.”

“What thing?”

She turned, pulling and tugging on him. “Get me out of here,” she begged. “Get me out of this place! We gotta go!”

He ventured a quick look back at the now sterilized bedroom before taking her back into the living room, but it wasn’t enough. J had to be removed to the hallway before she stopped shivering. This time he didn’t think twice before putting an arm around her shoulder.

Warm summer days. The hint of jasmine in the air. Bright blue skies and clouds shaped like animal crackers.

Kiel had never wanted to bury his face against a woman as badly as he wanted to at that moment. Bury himself along her soft skin and hold her. Protect her.

Lifting her face, J sniffed loudly and pulled out a tissue from her pocket to blow her nose. “I’m sorry,” she apologized in a low voice. “It got to me back there.”

“What got to you?” Sam asked on the other side. They were leaning against the hallway wall, just outside the apartment.

“The way those people died.” She looked over at Sam. “The room may have been cleaned and disinfected, but you’ll never be able to remove the taint that will haunt that place forever.”

Giving her shoulder a little squeeze, Kiel gently asked, “How did they die, Miss Laurent?”

Her face went even paler. “They were stabbed to death. No. More like punctured to death. Afterwards, their bodies were shredded. That one man, the one you found inside the closet, he didn’t die until he was torn apart.”

Both men felt shock go through their systems. Kiel believed he was long past feeling anything, but her words, and the feel of her shudder beneath his hand, gave him an overpowering sense of revulsion.

“The weapon, Miss Laurent. Can you give us a clue as to what was used as the weapon?”

Good old Sam. He looked ready to spew, but he was determined to find out the specifics.

“A-a piece of, umm, a piece of metal. About this long.” She held out her hands approximately eighteen inches apart. “Round, like a pipe, but without the hole inside. It was solid, like a gigantic piece of spaghetti. Oh, and it had curves on it. Grooves. If I felt one, I would recognize it.”

Kiel wracked his brain for a weapon fitting her description. Of course, it was highly possible the killer had used an unorthodox weapon. Something other than a knife or tool.

“Can you tell us anything about the killer?”

“Yeah. You’re not going to like my answer, either.” Taking a deep, ragged breath, J told them, “The man you’re looking for is dead, just like you, Detective Stark.”