Indelible (38 page)

She buried her face under the pillow. How could she begin a day in which the structure of her life, the belief in goodness, was torn away?

The phone on her nightstand buzzed. Groaning, she unearthed a hand, found the phone, and pulled it under. “Hello?”

“Um, hi. This is Seth.”

Officer Newly. One tiny light ray. “Good morning.”

“So, I know you and Natalie walk to the bakery, mornings, and since you can’t go out alone—well, you can but I warned you not to—um …”

She pushed the covers off her head.

“I’m at your door and I’ll walk you there, if um …”

“Just a minute, Seth.” She sat up and slid her legs over. Pulling a robe over her fleece pajamas, she went to the door. The morning felt cold, but dry, so it would warm up as the day went on. A nice day for walking, but still …

“Did I wake you?”

“From the morass.”

“Huh?”

“Come in. Piper brought home a bag of loot. Let’s see what’s in it.”

“Does that offer come with cocoa?”

“Of course.” The bands on her chest snapped, and she drew a deep full breath. Goodness—she believed.

Bagel in one hand, coffee in the other, Trevor entered the room of hope and fear. Natalie turned and took him in, her eyes reflecting those same emotions. He set down the irrelevant food, bent down, and kissed her. Her gaze followed him up.

“How’s your head?”

She rasped, “Hurts.”

His breath exploded. “That’s great!”

Confusion in her face.

“Not the pain. You talked. Nattie, you talked!”

She swallowed. “What happened?”

“He attacked you, hit you in the head. You’ve been in and out of consciousness.”

She swallowed. “In the creek?”

“Here. In the hospital.” What did she mean “creek”?

She closed her eyes. “My head hurts.”

“I believe it, but the swelling must be gone, or going.” He pressed the Call button on the controller and the nurse responded.

The doctor must be on rounds, because he came quickly—in hospital terms. He checked the monitors, then turned to his patient. “I understand you’re talking. Can you tell me your name?”

“Natalie.” A little weak, but no hesitation.

“And his?”

She searched him with her large brown eyes. The tendons in her throat stood out. “I knew it.”

Trevor said, “Don’t worry,” but his mind took it and ran.

“Trevor,” she said. “You saved Cody.”

He forced a smile. “That’s right.”

“Did you rescue me?”

“No.”

He could almost hear the questions in her mind.
Why are you here? Why did you kiss me?
When she’d opened her eyes, he’d assumed …

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thank you. For Cody. I wish there was something … I could do.”

The ache spiraled up. Another forced smile. “We’ll talk later.”

As he moved toward the door, she asked the doctor, “What happened?”

Repetitious questions were symptomatic of concussion. And TBI.

In the hall, he paused, clamping the back of his neck. He looked up when Jonah approached. “You’re not going to get anything useful. She’s a month or so shy of current time.”

Jonah sighed. “Other than that?”

“Drowsy. Confused. Concussed. Her answers are slow and confused, and I’m getting the sense her motor skills and reflexes aren’t what they should be.” All that would improve with time, he had to believe. “Have you found the guy?”

Jonah shook his head. “He’s invisible.”

“You saw him.”

“He hasn’t been spotted since. He’s either gone—”

“Or holed up. He has to stay somewhere.”

“Redford’s twice the population, five times the area we were policing before. All the rentals and time-shares, summer homes, ski cabins …”

“What about the gallery? Fingerprints?”

The chief shook his head. “We did get a fingernail chip from the model. Could be Natalie’s but the state’ll run DNA. Eventually. Since this is assault—not homicide, thank God—it’ll be farther down the queue.”

Trevor scowled. “We have nothing?”

“We have a working theory.”

“How does that catch him?”

Jonah braced his hips. “Have you been home?”

He shook his head. “I’m not leaving Natalie unprotected. When Aaron can’t be here, I am.”

“Okay. But …”

“But what?”

“If this is about you, he might not act again until you’re back.”

Dread moved through him. If Natalie’s attacker was some psycho fixated on him, then he’d led the beast to her. “Is it?”

“I’m still trying to piece things together on Michaela. Possibly that will yield a whole different avenue.”

But he didn’t think so, Trevor could tell.

Michaela lay supine in her room surrounded by teen technological apparatus. Cell phone at hand for texting, laptop for school work and social networking, an iPod feeding tunes to her ear canals.

Jonah tapped the door frame and smiled. “Hi, Michaela.”

“Chief!” She removed the earphones and turned off the music.

She wore a white foam neck brace and halo, a fiberglass cast from one shoulder to her wrist, wrappings around broken ribs that thickened her torso under a baggy men’s softball jersey. She had another cast from her waist to her left foot.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like a robot. Can you hand me that?”

He put the plastic cup with bendy straw into her hand and waited while she took a drink.

“I can do it, but it means I have to move.”

“I completely understand.” He’d suffered enough bruised and cracked ribs—not to mention a gunshot—to empathize. “May I sit?”

“Well, yeah. It’ll take me from like the six-hundredth battle Napoleon fought.”

Again he smiled. This kid had heart. “So you know why I’m here.”

She sighed.

“Anything?”

She looked toward her window and chewed her nail. “I mean, it’s like I said, too mixed up.”

“Mixed up or scary?”

She frowned. “I’m not remembering right.”

“There’s no right or wrong here.”

“But there is.” She looked back. “I mean, it can’t be what I think.”

“Try me.”

“It’s too weird.”

“Let me tell you something, Michaela. I saw some crazy stuff on my benders back in the day. How much was real?” He shrugged. “Maybe more than I knew.”

She closed her eyes, then dragged her gaze back up. “You believe in God, right? I mean, I see you in church.”

He encouraged her with a dip of his chin. God gave him what it took to make it through the day and do some good inside it.

“So, like, what about demons?”

His brows rose.

“I know, I know. It’s stupid.”

“Stupid was letting your friends doctor your Coke. Not what happened afterward.”

Her face flushed. “I’m never drinking again.”

“Good. At least until you’re legal and responsible—like about a hundred and two.”

She groaned.

“Why demons?”

“Well, I was, you know, yakking in the lot, and I saw one.”

“Can you describe it?”

“First it had this big hood, then the wind blew it back and there were horns.”

“What kind of horns?”

“Just two points, kind of straight up.”

Had Bob Betters mistaken horns for bat ears? Jonah thought back. Bat or devil, what he himself had glimpsed could go either way.

“His cape was like dragon wings. And his face—I mean, it was dark, so maybe—”

“Don’t rationalize. Just say what you saw.”

“It was all craggy and scarred, but he wasn’t old. I think he wore a mask.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Could you work with an artist?”

“I really don’t think so. I must have passed out, because the next thing I was on that ledge.”

“You didn’t see him again?”

“No.” She shuddered. “And I never want to.”

“Okay.”

“I imagined it, didn’t I?”

“I don’t think so. No way you got where you were without help.”

“Some help.” She was shaking.

“I’m just glad you’re recovering. You have a lot ahead of you.”

“A lot of work.” She pulled a face. “You’re up to it.”

“Thanks, Chief.”

Jonah gave her a smile as she replugged her ears. Her description matched. Some freak had dark aspirations.

Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell;
And in the lowest deep, a lower deep
Still threatening to devour me opens wide,
To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven.

C
urled, he rocked, hands gripping horns on a skintight, skull-tight hood. In this garb, he’d haunted fairs and festivals, as brazen and defiant as pretenders in medieval dress, touting his perfection. Why not? For him it was no act, no skit, but rather truth unveiled.

The master of studies had taught him well the nature of his soul. How apt a student he had been! How clever and astute. He took the lessons deep inside until he knew full well the hollows and caverns and pits. But not all!

For in him there remained that part that saw and cherished goodness, that recognized and cauterized the threat and danger to it. And if, despairing, he gave in, what champion would there be?

The one he’d come here to engage? A challenge still unmet.

Or was there something more—some intention not unveiled, but taking root and growing?

Twenty-Three

T
revor sat, fingers threaded in his lap, watching Natalie sleep. Since she first awoke, they’d gotten her up walking, done basic physical therapy and batteries of tests. Some sessions she was clearer, others muddled. She still didn’t look at him with full recognition, but seemed to accept his presence.

He thought he’d willed her to come back, but he was simply the one talking when she did. His throat constricted. He rescued people, pulled them out of danger, saved them from harm, but he hadn’t kept Natalie safe.

He couldn’t undo that. He could only make sure no one got past him now. Whatever this freak might want from him, it would not hurt Nattie again.

“I promise you,” he murmured.

Her eyes fluttered open. She searched around the room, breathing sparsely. He took her hand before recalling the gesture might not be familiar to her.

She turned. “Trevor?”

“I’m here.” He pressed her hand between the two of his.

“Something happened, didn’t it?”

“You were injured.”

She touched the bandage. “Is it bad?”

“You’re better now than yesterday, much better than the day before.” He stroked her fingers with his thumb.

“It’s been that long?”

“Over two weeks.”

“Two …” She blinked, taking that in.

He leaned forward. “What do you remember?”

Her brows formed a tiny V between them. “I was in the studio. You went to get Cody.” She gasped.

“It’s okay. He’s back with his dad.”

She released the breath with clear relief.

“I left you in the studio, Nattie. Why were you out in the gallery?”

“The chief.” No delay this time. “I heard something and thought the chief must be at the front door.”

“Honey, next time you hear something, will you go the other way?”

A spark of amusement found her eyes. “I’d be leaving a lot of people on doorsteps.”

His heart warmed and ached at once. “Nattie.” His voice thickened. “Do you know me?”