Act V (24 page)

Dorsey took both of her
hands in his and looked at her with chocolate brown eyes that had
worked their way past her virginity many years ago. Eyes that had
made her follow him down the
stupid
hole
against her best judgment again and
again. “I’m sorry Glynn. Forgive me?”

She pulled away from him, getting up
from the couch because it was safer. “It’s over with. There’s
nothing to forgive now. Want some ice water?” She walked into the
kitchen without waiting for an answer and came back with two
glasses of sweet tea, already sweating and dripping condensation.
She sat back down. “Did anything else happen? Today, I
mean.”

“
I can’t think of anything
else. Oh, they’re interested in that newscaster, the one who keeps
talking up the murders and that psychic connection. I only heard
about it in whispers though. A couple of the other cops mentioned
her, but not loud enough for me to make sense of it. I don’t have
any idea what it’s all about.”

Glynnis knew but she couldn’t
say.

“
Do you think they really
have a psychic that they’re consulting? She keeps bringing it
up.”

Glynnis swallowed hard. Was he fishing?
Did he want to know what she knew for some devious reason? No, more
than likely, he was just curious like everyone else. “I sincerely
doubt there’s a psychic, Dorsey.” She was getting really worn out
and wanted to be alone to think. “Dorsey, if you’re okay, I’ve got
to get ready for my date.” She almost felt bad lying to him, but
then she remembered that he had been dating a teenager while the
two of them were engaged.

He gave her a sad, lost look. “I guess
I’m alright. Can I call you later?”

She stood and walked him to the door.
“If you need to. But Dorsey,” she decided to come right out with
it. There was no other way. “I’m not interested in getting back
together. That part of my life is over.”

“
Are you sure?” He grabbed
her shoulders, pulled her toward him and kissed her with as much
passion as he could manage.

Glynnis felt just a little dizzy. She
was confused, happy, furious, all at once. She began to lose her
ability to think clearly as Dorsey deepened the kiss. Then, like
touching a loose wire and getting an unexpected shock, waves of
sudden knowledge filled her. She was having another premonition, a
terrifying one. It took all of her energy to shake herself loose.
She staggered toward the couch. “Dorsey, go home.
Leave.”

“
I’m sorry Glynn, I didn’t
mean…”

“
Go!” she screamed and then
curled up into a ball on the couch. “Just leave!”

Dorsey opened the door to do just as
she had asked, and stared directly into the face of Detective Brice
Gearhart.

Chapter 20

Brice took in the scene. Dorsey
standing at the doorway ready to leave, Glynnis curled into a fetal
position on the couch, obviously unable to move, and Carl whining
at her feet. “What have you done to her?” He didn’t wait for
Timmons to answer. His right hook knocked the man down and he
didn’t get up. Brice ran straight for Glynnis and searched her neck
for a pulse.

“
Brice, no.” She squeaked
the words out. “Just let him leave, please.”

Timmons was doing just that. He pulled
himself up and reached for the doorframe to balance. In a minute,
he was gone.

“
What happened? Did he try
to hurt you?” Brice began to check for broken bones.

Glynnis took three long, deep breaths
and then worked her way into a seated position with a little help
from Brice. “He didn’t do anything.” She was disgusted, with Brice
for jumping to conclusions, with Dorsey for kissing her, and with
herself for letting him. “Well, almost nothing. I had another one
of those waking visions and I almost blacked out.”

Brice lifted the water glass from the
table and held it so she could sip the liquid until she was calm.
When she finally sat the glass back on the table and she looked as
if she felt at least a little restored, he asked “What did you
see?”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure. It
was more a feeling than an event.” She took his hand and let her
eyes bore into his. “I had this intense impression of evil
associated with Dorsey. Something very bad is going to happen and
it’s going to involve Dorsey.”

“
Is he the
murderer?”

“
I don’t know.”

“
Is he involved with the
murderer?”

“
I…don’t…know!” She spoke
slowly as if to a small child. Brice looked stricken, and she felt
immediate remorse for being so short-tempered. “Sorry, I know
you’re just trying to help. I just don’t have a clear idea of what
it was about. I felt a strong sense of foreboding, wrongdoing of
some kind and I knew that Dorsey would be in the middle of it. I
didn’t see any real images. I’m worried, Brice. What if Dorsey’s
involved in this somehow?”

Brice was worried too, but not about
the same thing. If Glynnis was that concerned about Dorsey, maybe
she still had feelings for him. “I’m spending the night.” Brice
told her. “No arguments.”

She had no intention of
arguing.

*****

The cop was there with her again. Was
she sleeping with him? Was she the psychic? How could that be? He
had to find out, tonight. He started the engine and drove to the
News four studios.

Sandra Fitchwell was completely
exhausted. She’d done four on-scene reports today, all but one of
them needing extensive editing before they were ready for the 6p.m.
news. Then she’d been sent to cover the Downtown Alive activities
as a live broadcast. Now she wanted nothing more than to have a
drink and then go to sleep. She had already arranged to take the
weekend along with Monday and Tuesday off. She needed to get away
and regroup. “I’m leaving, Rod.”

“
Wait for me.” Rodrick
called. “That cop said you shouldn’t go anywhere alone, that
somebody here should always walk you to your car.”

She groaned but didn’t argue.
“Whatever.”

Rodrick walked Sandra to her car and
checked the interior before closing the door. He waited until she
drove away to go back inside. He didn’t see the car parked across
the street pull out after her because it didn’t have any headlights
on.

*****

It wasn’t Sandra’s habit to drink
alone. She was more of a social drinker. When she did have a beer
at her own home, by herself, it was because she needed solitude and
oblivion, like tonight. She stopped at a convenience store and went
in for a six pack, leaving a ten on the counter and telling the
young, stringy haired clerk to keep the change. Then she crawled
back into her car and started the engine. She was passing through
the traffic light two blocks from the store when she felt a hard
object pressed into her neck and heard a deep, male voice whisper,
“Don’t turn around and don’t look in your rearview.”

Sandra’s heart flew to her throat and
then sank deep into her stomach. “You can have my car and my
money,” she told the voice. “Just let me leave. You can even have
the credit cards.”

A low chuckle bubbled up from the back
seat. “Sandra, Sandra, I don’t want your money.”

Oh no, he knew her name.
This was some obsessed stalker who had seen her on the news and
knew her.

“
Sandra, I’m disappointed in
you.” The voice continued. “I thought we had a good thing going. I
gave you the story of your career and you don’t even have the
decency to tell me the truth about the psychic? You know who she
is, don’t you? You were lying to me on the phone. But don’t worry,
Sandra. I’ve decided to give you another chance. I like you. If you
tell me what I want to know, you can go home and have one of those
beers. I won’t hurt you.”

Sandra, for the first time in her life
couldn’t think of anything to say. This was the murderer, the man
who’d tried to get her to give up the psychic’s name. And now he
had come for her.

“
Keep driving straight.
There’s a small lake house for sale just a mile up the road. We’re
going to take a few minutes to visit there.”

Sandra found her voice. “I still don’t
know anything about the psychic. Why don’t you let me
go?”

He brought the gun down hard on her
right shoulder and heard her cry out in pain. He didn’t want to
make her lose control of the car, only to make a believer out of
her. “Don’t play games with me, Sandra. I know you know, and if you
cooperate, you might live to see the six o’clock news again.” Then
his voice was almost friendly. He reached over the seat and popped
open one of the Coors cans she’d just bought. “Here Sandra, you
seem tense. Why don’t you go ahead and have a beer.”

*****

Brice made strong coffee and the two of
them watched a couple of sitcoms on TV. Glynnis felt a little
better when the last show ended. “I’ve got to dose up tonight,” she
said, walking toward her bedroom.

“
Dose up?” he asked her.
“For what?”

“
It’s part of my MS
therapy,” she said. “I inject three times a week.”

“
Oh,” Brice didn’t
comment.

“
Be right back.” She wasn’t
about to invite him to watch. Some people got queasy over needles
so this was something she did alone, always. Luckily, unlike a lot
of others, Glynnis felt none of the flu-like side effects that were
often reported. She could inject and go on with life, which was
exactly what she planned to do.

After her medicine, she walked back and
sat down by Brice. “Thanks for staying,” she told him. “I like
having you here, and not just as my protector.”

He pulled her close. “Does that mean we
can have these spend the night parties more often?”

*****

The lake house was nothing more than a
shack with a broken lock sitting by a pond. There was indeed a “for
sale” sign out front however and Sandra wondered who in their right
mind would want the place. This was not far from her own home,
maybe three or four miles. She must have passed it every day on the
way to work but it sat far back from the road and was covered by a
small copse of trees. No wonder she hadn’t noticed it before. If
she could break away from this guy, she could make it to the house.
She was in good condition.

Her assailant pressed the gun into her
neck. “Get out of the car slowly and don’t turn around. If you
don’t know my face I can let you go when it’s over. Don’t make any
noise now. We wouldn’t want to bother the neighbors.”

She did as she was told. This was the
wrong time to run for it. He had a gun pointed right at her. When
they got inside he lit a candle and tied a blindfold over her eyes,
guiding her to a chair. “Sit.”

She did. She could hear him pulling at
something and knew he was taking a strip of tape from a roll. “Now,
let’s see if you understand what real cooperation is. Remove your
top please Sandra.”

She hesitated. “No, please. I’ll
cooperate.”

“
Now Sandra, I can’t have
you in any shape to run away if you choose to try something crazy.
I can hear the headlines now; News Four reported found running
naked in the woods. Details at eleven.” He guffawed at his own
joke, then pressed the gun into her temple. “That just wouldn’t do.
Now, take off the top.”

She whimpered and did as he
said.

“
Now the shoes and
pants.”

“
But…”

“
We are not off to a very
good start here, Sandra.” He hit her knee with the gun barrel hard
enough to elicit a howl of pain. “The shoes and pants.”

She slipped off her shoes and pants and
felt a sense of true revulsion as the creep reached behind her to
wrap her arms close to her side and to the chair with the
tape.

“
Much better,” he whispered
and Sandra could only imagine what kind of horrible thrill he was
getting out of this. He popped the lid on another one of the beers
she’d purchased and pressed her to drink the whole can. Then, he
taped her legs to the chair legs and said, “Sandra, it’s time for
the truth. Is there really a psychic?”

“
I don’t know.”

She heard the snap of a knife blade and
gasped back a scream. Then she took in a sharp breath as she felt
the knife pressing against her chest, between her breasts, just
below her front hooking bra. With one quick flip of the knife, the
bra released leaving her to feel cool air brushing against her
breasts. Then he touched her, only briefly and Sandra could hear
him breathing. “Now Sandra, let’s try again. Is there a
psychic?”

“
Yes.” She was crying
now.

“
Oh, don’t cry. You are very
beautiful. Don’t mar it with tears.” He held the knife to one side
of her bikini underwear. “Now Sandra, I’d like to leave you with
something to wear home, but it’s not absolutely necessary. Do you
know the name of the psychic? Is it the girl Gearhart is playing
around with?”

Sandra couldn’t be a hero anymore.
“Will you let me go home if I tell you?”

“
Of course.”

She would go home and warn Glynnis
Nuckolls as soon as she could get out of here—if he really let her
out. She had no choice.