Dark Corners READY FOR PRC (38 page)

I pulled him towards myself, resting my head against the top of his. I wasn't sure how much comfort I could offer, but I would try. His arms wrapped around me and mine around him. We drifted to sleep our breath in time.

Chapter Fourteen

I awoke with a feeling of dread for no clear reason. It took my groggy eye several moments to focus on the clock. Almost 8 a.m. I pushed Gabriel’s chest to wake him up.

“You're going to be late for work,” I said, shoving him again.  When he still didn't respond, I pushed him harder. He rolled off me, his head lulling back lifelessly, revealing a gnarled red slash across his throat. I looked down, blood covered me and the chair—

 I jumped up, shrieking.  I tried to get to the phone, but my legs wouldn’t do what my brain commanded. I heard footsteps behind me.  I raced to the door, hoping to get outside to Gabriel’s car, where I could use his radio to call for help. I struggled frantically with the locks on the door and then yanked it open.

 My legs still refused to move as fast as I wanted them too, but finally I reached the car. I hit the unlock button then reached for the police radio. The cord was severed. I looked up slowly, my stomach sinking. In the rearview mirror I saw a man behind me—smiling. I tried to scream, but he reached out and curled his hands around my neck.

I frantically fought him off with flailing arms. He took me by the shoulders and started shaking me. I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing my death was eminent.

“Ella.” Christ, he knew my name. Panic surged through my veins. “Ella, wake up!”

I opened my eyes. I was back in the living room and Gabriel was shaking me, alive and well.

It took me a long moment to realize I wasn't still in danger. It was only a dream. Though had I been listening to Gabriel instead of hysterically scanning the room for signs of danger, I would have heard him tell me that. He never loosened his grip on my shoulders or let it ease. Slowly I nodded that I understood and he released his hold.

“You were dreaming,” he said one last time.

“Bad dream,” I said lamely, as if he couldn't tell.

“Yeah—well, whoever it was, you really gave him hell. At least you gave my arm hell.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay. You're the most effective alarm clock I've ever had.”

“Don’t you have to go to work?”

Gabriel looked away and mumbled, “Administrative leave.”

“What?”

“I was too involved in all of this.”

“Damn it, Gabriel, why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not your fault, what's done is done. There is nothing either of us can do or would do to change it.”

While his words were kind, I hated being placated. It was my fault. I ruined everything. I couldn’t fall back asleep though Gabriel seemed to have no problem.

I got up from the chair and went upstairs to shower and dress. Then I made coffee. Gabriel was still sleeping, snoring loudly which at least let me know his throat was still perfectly intact. I went onto the porch to drink my coffee.

The morning was dreary, a steady rainfall mixed with the occasional rumble of thunder. The sound and smell of the rain pulled me in soothed away the nightmare about Gabriel, leaving me only with the nightmare of my life.  Danny. Susan.  I wondered how she died. Had it been as gruesome as Danny’s? No matter how mad I was, it was tragic. I wished I could let go of the betrayal and just remember her as my friend and him as my loving husband. But I couldn't. “Aren’t you cold?”

“A little.”

Gabriel stood in wrinkled clothes and a day's growth on his face studying me sitting in my chair with my knees pressed up underneath my chin. I could tell he was trying to gage my mood. “Do I want to know what you're thinking?”

“About Susan and Danny. And how much I'm going to miss both of them.”

Gabriel sat in the other chair. “What was your dream about?”

“That I woke up and you were dead.”

“How did I die?”

“Your throat was cut. Blood everywhere—I ran to your car to radio for help, but he was in the backseat.”

“Who?”

“The killer.”

“What did he look like?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really remember seeing his face—just that he was smiling.”

“Creepy.” He gave me another searching look, but I didn’t know what he wanted from me. “You know I'm not going to die, right?”

I shook my head no. How could I possibly know that? Of course he would die. We all die. Why was he any more likely to live than Danny or Susan? I didn't want to argue semantics right now. “How did Susan die?”

“Ella …”

“I want to know. Was it like Danny?”

“Yes and no. Enough to make the detectives think they may be connected, but there’s a possibility they're not. They could both be random crimes.”

“They don’t feel random. Please, I need to know.”

“She was stabbed. Multiple times with one knife, not multiple knives like Danny.”

“Where was she?”

“In her house.”

“Where in her house?”

“Ella, why do you want to know this?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like I should know.”

“She was in her bed. That’s enough, no more. This is macabre. What are your plans today?”

“No idea.” I couldn’t think about my plans for the day; I couldn’t think about anything. “Where are we supposed to go from here?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do we continue to investigate? We’ve hit a wall. There’s nowhere else to go.”

“Are you giving up?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You always have a choice. You don’t have to keep choosing death, you can choose life.”

“I don’t know how.”I was no longer in the mood to talk about any of this. I wanted to think about it for a while without having to justify my thoughts. “I made coffee. Would you like a cup?”

“Sure. I’ll come with you.”

We walked to the kitchen. I poured him a cup of coffee and topped up mine. We stood in silence, both of us thinking, sipping our coffee.

“Let’s go somewhere,” I said impulsively. He was on leave and I was beyond sick of being here. There was nothing to hold us back. Whoever was in this house could have it. I was done.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Away from here. Hawaii . . . or the Caribbean, anywhere.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows, looking surprised. He started to say something, then stopped and shook his head as if to clear it. He reached for the counter to brace himself, but before he could reach it, he crumpled to the floor.

I started towards him, but as I moved, the room started to move with me. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. I stumbled into the wall then back into the counter. I fumbled with the drawer. My equilibrium was off, but I knew I was in danger. I reached for a knife in the drawer and braced myself against the cabinet. My body was shutting down against my will. I had very little control left. Finally, my legs gave out and I slid to the floor. I looked up and saw someone walk through the door, a sickening smile on his face—then everything went black.

 I was in a giant greenhouse. Beautiful plants and flowers surrounded me I walked through the rows, enjoying the beauty and the warmth. At the end of one of the rows, a rose lay across an empty table. It seemed out of place. I reached out for it and was stuck by the thorn. I looked at my hand watching the blood begin to bubble up. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do about it, so I just stared at my finger. I felt someone walk up behind me. Danny turned me around by my shoulders and smiled at me lovingly.

“I’ve missed you, baby,” he said, looking charming as ever.

“I’ve missed you too. Am I dead?”

Danny shook his head. “I don’t know. I'm sorry if I hurt you, Ella.”

“It seems a little late to waste time on apologies.”

“Well, there it is anyway. Ella, you need to listen to me.”

“My finger is bleeding. That was a really big thorn.”

“Forget about your finger,” he said as I put my hand in his face to make sure he could see the blood coming out of it. “Ella, listen.”

“This isn’t real. You're not real.  This is my imagination. I think I'm dating a cop.”

“That’s good, Ella, I want you to be happy. That's all I ever wanted.” He smiled at me. Grant walked up beside him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“This isn’t working.”

“What isn’t working?” I asked mildly concerned.

“I know,” Danny replied to him.

“Let me try,” Grant said. “Ella,” he said calmly and took my bleeding hand, producing a bandage out of thin air. “Ella, when you wake up, you need to remember this. Can you do that?”

“Of course I can. What are you doing here?” Then something else occurred to me and I covered my mouth with my hand. “Are you dead too?”

He smiled gently, and pushed on. “The killer is in the house with you. When you wake up, you need to use what you know. Fight back and don’t give up—use what you know. You can save yourself, Ella. Can you remember that?”

“Of course.” Suddenly I was very tired. My head started to pound and Grant faded away.