Cast the Cards (4 page)

“How
about we go grab that drink?”
More like an entire bottle.

***

Clark
watched Vannah and Carey talk. It was strange observing them like this now that
he’d made initial contact. But they needed to come to an understanding on their
own.

“You’ve
made contact. How do you feel?”

He
turned to the olive-skinned woman with dark hair who’d been assigned as his
case worker. A guide, for lack of a better description, Zenia escorted souls
here and there. She was the bridge that’d allowed him to travel from Heaven back
to Earth.

“Like
shit.”

 “Why?
I thought we both agreed this was the best way to deal with your unusual
attachments.” She frowned. He dark eyes silently dissected him. He felt like a
frog pinned to a table.

“I
turned their world upside down. Returning just reminds me of how much it’s no
longer my world. Everything has changed, including Carey and Vannah.”  A
wistful longing for the sweet girl who wanted to be a teacher and wore
free-flowing gowns struck him.

“You
knew your death affected them both greatly.” Her voice was cold and distant. The
robotic response jarred his ears like nails on a chalkboard. She’d been otherworldly
for so long she’d forgotten what being human truly felt like.  But he never
had. That was the problem. It was impossible to enjoy Heaven when your heart
and your mind were stuck on the day-to day. He’d spent an unhealthy amount of
time viewing their lives like a movie played on a big screen.

“Yes,
but seeing it from a distance and experiencing it for myself are two totally
different things.” Clark shook his head.

“Hmmm.
Do you wish to continue? We can remove you from the situation. Wipe their
memories until this is nothing but an unpleasant dream.”

“No.”

“Very
well then, remember the rules. Don’t tell them too much about the afterlife,
never use your powers to harm another, unless you want to barred from Heaven’s
gates, and summon me should you need help or grow weary of this … place.” Her
lips curled up in disgust. “Now I must go. I have to go, others to check in
with.”

He
nodded. They definitely threw you in the deep end and expected you to learn to
swim if you wanted to survive. Gone as suddenly as she came, she left Clark
alone again.

***

Carey
took her to a bar on the outskirts of town where they could blend in to the
crowd. Shooters was what he liked to think of as an upper-class dive bar. They
weren’t fancy but the place was clean, the bathroom didn’t look as if you’d
catch an S.T.D from breathing the air, and the service was fast and friendly.
It was the perfect place to drink in the middle of the day in nice clothing
without batting an eyelash. Last thing they wanted was an audience for their
forced reunion. Seated across from her at a table for two in the back, he
studied her. Never in a million years would he have imagined Savannah West
would grow up to be smoking hot.

Ebony
tresses fell just below her shoulders. Her tall frame was slender but muscular,
like Michelle Rodriguez if she’d been dipped in chocolate and gained five
inches. It screwed with his head, having his cock strain against his pants for
the childhood best friend who’d bailed when he needed her most. The waitress
returned with a tray, setting a bucket of beer and two shots of straight whiskey
on the table.

“Here
you go. I’ll be back to check on you two later.”

“Thanks,”
he peered at her name tag, “Mandy.”

The
girl gave a muted smile. Her brown eyes darted toward a silent Savannah. He
could see her mentally trying to figure out their relationship. Under other
circumstances, he’d be amused.

“Of
course.” Mandy walked off. Savannah tossed back her shot like a pro.

“Aaah.”
She hissed through her teeth. “It always burns so good.” Her delicate pink
tongue darted out to lick her lips.

Fuck.

He
arched a brow. “Drink a lot?”  

“Nope.”
She shook her head, sending strands of black silk flying. A layer fell into her
eyes, marring her buttoned-up agent style. His mind began to form images of
what she’d look like out of the black slacks and conservative button up shirt.
Would her underwear be as bland?
It was all too easy to see her curves
highlighted in a black corset and thong.

“Gotta
stay sharp and keep the reflexes up.” Her answer pulled him from his lustful
haze.

I
seriously need to get laid. Apparently six months is too long.

“You
see a lot of time in the field?”  Swirling his shot glass, he watched the amber
liquid shift.

“Not
usually, but you know they shuffle us around like a deck of cards when
necessary.”

He
nodded. “You have a partner though, right?”

“Yeah.
Are we gonna keep bullshitting?”

“Jesus,
Savannah.”  He pushed air out through his teeth.
So much for polite
conversation.
The cold tone put a halt to the massive swelling of his cock.
Wah Wah Wah
played in his head.

“It
was a simple question.”  She shrugged.

“It
was a copout.” Refusing to let her put her wall back up as though she hadn’t
been shaken to her core twenty minutes earlier, he called her out.

“Why?”
The haughty look she issued rankled. He wanted to wipe the expression off her
face. Peel back the persona she wore like a shield and retrieve the Vannah he
knew still existed, held hostage inside her, like Rapunzel in her tower.

“Because
you’re acting like we just met.” Narrowing his eyes, he leaned forward.

“No.”
She shook her head. “But we’re not besties either. We don’t know each other
anymore.”

“You
really believe that?”  The dismissive words wounded. Sure, over the years
they’d changed, but
stranger
, seemed a pretty harsh label for two people
who’d known each other since they were in diapers.

“You
don’t?” She arched an eyebrow. “You said yourself I’d changed.”

“I
can’t work with you like this.”
I don’t like this new Savannah one bit.

She
rolled her eyes. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“This
is personal. I can’t pretend otherwise. How can you?” he whispered.

The
walls she hid behind collapsed. The dark abyss of pain visible in her deep
brown orbs was a revelation.

“I
have to. Emotions make you sloppy and vulnerable. If I get lost in my own head
on this one, I’ll be of no use to anyone. I’ve waited far too long to do that.
Don’t think for a moment this isn’t ripping me to shreds on the inside. You
have your way of dealing, and I have mine. I’m not saying it’s right, but it
gets me by.”

“Vannah,
that’s no way to live.” Gentler now that he understood, he softened his voice.

“Well,
if we crack this, maybe I won’t have to.”  She cleared her throat.” Enough with
the heart-to-heart. Tell me what you know.”

He
tossed back his shot, breathed through the trail of fire left in the whiskey’s
wake, and began. “Not much more than you. Clark showed up this morning like he
never left. I thought I was still drunk from the night before, at first. Then I
sobered, and he remained. Once he moved something and I touched him, I couldn’t
deny it. He mentioned you were in danger. I knew I was going to do what he said
regardless, whether I was going stark-raving mad or not.” She opened her mouth
to speak and he shook his head. “If the position was reversed and I needed help,
would you come?”

“Yeah,
I would. You can’t be best friends with someone for twenty-one years and forget
them in ten. At least I can’t.”

“Exactly.”
He grabbed a beer from the bucket, popped the top, and slid it across to her
before he opened his own.

“What
did Clark say?” The anxiety in her tone wasn’t lost on him.

“Not
much. He said the kidnappers were back and there was a lot we didn’t know. I
guess it’ll be coming to light soon.” Trailing a finger through the
condensation on the bottle, he watched the water separate to avoid the
inquiring gaze looking for answers he couldn’t provide.

“Did
he say how or when?” Impatience sharpened her words. 

He
lifted the brown bottle, took a long draw, and shook his head. “He said they’d
come to us.”

“Oh
my God, they want to finish what they started.”  Her eyes widened. He could see
the wheels in her head spin.

“How
can you know that?” he asked, unable to follow the path she’d taken to get
there.

“I’m
taking an educated guess.  It’s the only reason they’d have for coming back now—to
tie loose ends. Perhaps this will allow them to complete their ritual.”

“Ritual?”
How could she get all of this from a letter and a tarot card?

“Serial
killers have a variety of reasons why they kill. Some are opportunistic, where
there’s a driving force but no real game plan. Others have more specific
requirements. They’re re-enacting some trauma that happened in their life , or
an ideal they wish to leave by.  It may not make sense to us, because to them
it’s very real. Their way of righting a wrong or giving meaning to their life. 
.” Her tone was matter-of-fact as she spoke with an intensity that showed how
much she enjoyed her job. Their conversation seemed out of place here among the
popular music playing over the speakers and the trivial conversation taking
place around them. College students filled the surrounding tables, drinking,
chatting, and blowing off steam.

His
gaze scanned the room and it hit him. They were the only somber couple here. A
song with a hard-hitting bass came on and the couple beside them walked over to
the tiny area designated as a dance floor. The lithe woman with cocoa skin
pressed her round ass into her partner as he wrapped his arms around her waist
and they moved as one to the beat.

Carey
envied them. His cock stirred and he forced his mind back to the topic at hand.
“You think this is one of those re-enacting cases?” he asked.

“Maybe.” 
A thoughtful expression settled over her face. “I’ll never forget that freakish
clown outfit… now I wonder if it tied in to the ritual. I know they didn’t
travel with the carnival—the police hit a dead end with that. Perhaps the
kidnappers scout out the carnivals. See where they’ll be moving to and follow,
ride their tailcoats.” She placed her tongue in her cheek.

Releasing
a sigh, he shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“There
are all just theories, nothing concrete, but it’s a start.”

He
was impressed. It was easy to see why she was good at what she did.

“How
would you try to make a connection between what happened and other cases?”

“First
I’d need to get my hands on our case file, and then I’d search using people
taken from carnivals or circus acts. Perhaps it has something to do with that.”
Her body twitched. “I knew clowns were creepy, but I never knew they killed
outside of the movies.”

He
couldn’t say he’d watched
IT
lately. “I can get you the case files.”

“Won’t
you get in trouble?”

Now
she cares.
“Being next in line for sheriff in a
small town does have some perks, city slicker.”

She
smirked. “We don’t have to play the whose-is-bigger game, Carey. I don’t even
have a penis.” 
No, but I bet your pussy is delicious.

 “Which
is a good thing, considering metaphorically speaking, you trump me being F.B.I.
and all.”

“You
know I don’t see it like that. We’re all law enforcement agents looking to keep
the peace and gain victims justice.” 

“If
that’s true, why go for the F.B.I.?”

“Because
I had my heart set on criminal profiling. I knew going through the Bureau and
putting in my time was the best way to go.”

“When
did you know it was what you wanted to do?” Curious to know how someone went
from dreaming of becoming a teacher to a federal agent, he focused in on her words,
trying to read between the lines.

“After
I got through with my sessions with my psychologist I started to get really
into human psychology. How the mind works and what events in our past shape who
we’ll be. I wanted answers beyond what she could give me. I didn’t like the ‘sometimes
bad things happen to good people’ bit I was being force-fed. I wanted—no, I
needed to do more.” Swinging her beer toward him, she asked, “What about you?
Carey Carr a cop?”

“I
know, I know. When I lost Clark I just saw how pointless the stupid shit I did
was.  The time for teenage rebellion was gone. I dropped out of school not too
long after you transferred. It just wasn’t the place I needed to be. I spent a
period lost, confused, and hurting. But when I pulled it together I knew I
wanted to help pick up the pieces of Dale, make people feel safe again and stop
wasting potential and time, you know?”

“I
do. It was a mess here for awhile.” His gaze shifted to the bustling bar, but
his mind went back to the past. A lingering sadness had tinged everyone and
everything in town the rest of the year. Parents held their children a little
tighter. Kids went in when the sun went down. An unspoken curfew had been
issued for teens. The campus issued a buddy system mandate and passed out
pamphlets about being aware of your surroundings and how to escape an attacker,
along with a rash of self-defense classes and speakers. It would help bring
some comfort for others, never him.