My Immortal (8 page)

“
They’re not working,” she insisted, but somehow knew that he could tell she was lying. “The nightmares are back and they’re getting worse. It’s different this time.”

“
That’s what you say every time.”

She shook her head.
“It really is different.”

He leaned back in his chair.
“How is your story coming?”

“
It’s not that either,” she argued. In frustration she jumped from her chair and paced in the room.

He leaned forward on his desk.
“You’re processing a lot of traumatic information, Adele. The subconscious works things through in its own way. We’ve gone over this”

“
That’s not it! The nightmares are different. I’m different.”

He sighed and stood, walking around to face her.
“No, Adele. You’re not. You’re still the same girl who used to push down all her feelings until they spilled out in other ways. Every time we get close to a breakthrough on dealing with those emotions you do everything in your power, both consciously and unconsciously, to bury it.”

She just shook her head
and held herself protectively.

“
Are you hearing voices?” he asked.

She shook her head again. Another lie.

“Are you feeling as though you could hurt yourself or others?”

“
No!” she exploded. “It’s not like that. It’s just the same damn nightmare that has haunted me nearly all of my life. I come to you for help and instead of making them go away you just pat me on the head and drug me up just like everyone else.”

“Adele,” he began again, his tone patient and firm, “in order to deal with this nightmare we really have to dig deep and confront your past. You know this. We have to talk about what happened, and exactly what it means regarding who you are. You have to make peace with the trauma surrounding your identity. Otherwise, you run the risk of repeating what happened when you were fifteen.”

It made her heart sink to hear it, because deep inside she knew it was true. She just couldn’t face it. Not yet. Not ever. She took the crumpled blue prescription and threw it at her doctor. “Take your stupid pills and go to hell.”

She spun and ran from the room before he could stop her.

She didn’t stop running until she hit the front door of the studio, running late, as always. She dodged Duncan and raced into her office to find Brian enjoying his mid-morning break. “Good morning,” he grinned. “Or should I say, good afternoon?” She responded with an angry glance over her shoulder. One look at her face had Brian immediately concerned. “You look like hell, Addie.”

She tossed her stuff down on her desk.
“Aw. Screw you very much.”

Her response surprised
Brian. Normally she never took out her mood on him. He tried to lighten the tense atmosphere with, “I would have thought you would be in much better spirits after your date with Prince Charming last night. What’s the matter? He doesn’t put out on the first date?”

Only his plan backfired, and she grew more hostile.
“Do you have a point, Brian?”

His feathers ruffled he immediately backed off.
“I was just making conversation. I obviously mistook you for my friend Addie who has a sense of humor.”

Duncan charged in, his tie askew, his glasses down his nose and his mood definitely sour.
“I hate to break up your little lovers spat but I thought maybe the two of you would like to get some work done.”

By the time
Brian and Adele got to the cemetery twenty minutes later, there was a large press presence already there, standing around a disturbed grave site.

“
Who would desecrate the grave of a murdered child?” Brian wondered aloud.

Adele offered a helpless shrug as they approached the horrific scene, where Marisol Maldonado lay sprawled on the upturned soil, her body
racked with sobs. In the background was the strange gypsy woman from the funeral. Her eyes bore holes into Adele’s face. The stare was so powerful it stopped Adele in her tracks. Brian stopped a few steps ahead.

“
What’s wrong?”

She tore her eyes from
the gypsy. “Nothing. It’s just… cemeteries give me the creeps. Let’s just do this and get out of here.”

Michael was not surprised when she called him to join her that afternoon for lunch.
He’d heard about the grave site and he knew that she would be hot on the case. He also knew she’d be an emotional wreck. Death was not her thing, and this case had her mired in it. Seeing her pale face, however, was a bit of a shock. He had to fight back the urge again to insist she let someone else handle it. He knew that suggestion would fall on deaf ears.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek, not unlike any of the thousands of other kisses on the cheek
she’d given him over the years. And not unlike any of those thousands of kisses, this one set his body alive with the touch of her soft lips on his skin. He’d done many hours on his knees, confessing over the carnal thoughts he enjoyed at her expense. If she knew that, she never let on.

It was much safer, and much easier, for her to live in blissful ignorance.
He was a walking, talking security blanket and he knew it. At 5’10, he was hardly threatening. He didn’t smolder with intense alpha male sexuality, but was more approachable with warm eyes the color of milk chocolate and an easy smile that never knew a stranger. Quite a few of his female parishioners had fallen for his wholesome, boy-next-door appeal over the years, but he’d never been tempted to sway from his vows. Adele was his truest temptation, and she was as far away as the moon. It was both safe and extraordinarily frustrating. But he knew it was worth any price he had to pay to be with her, and he knew that there was no one closer. She belonged solely to him. And he liked it that way. It made living without her in his arms as his lover that much easier to bear.

They settled down to their lunch and he was somewhat relieved that she at least had a healthy appetite. She wolfed down most of her burger and fries before sniping some of his onion rings as well.
“How many of the seven deadlies are you up to by now?” he pondered aloud. “They’re going to make me give up my collar.”

“
Those who don’t have sex, eat,” she teased. “Which makes me highly suspicious that you’re not as big as a house, Father.”

How he hated when she called him that. He was extraordinarily proud of the work
he’d been able to do in the ministry, but the last thing he wanted her to consider him was an unattainable priest. He wanted to scream at her that he wasn’t just some untouchable religious statue that couldn’t come to life and hold her like she needed to be held, or tell her that despite what she thought someone did love her and always would.

But as usual he stifled all the longing down deep below his collar and covered it with humor.
“That’s why we wear black. To hide those love handles. It’s very trimming, you know.” She just shook her head and stuffed another onion ring in her mouth and grinned with bulging chipmunk cheeks. He couldn’t help but laugh. “You know if you really loved me you’d save me from obesity and just marry me already.”

She swallowed her food, ripped the end off of her straw wrapper and blew it at him.
“You’re a nut,” she concluded. “Now finish your lunch before I do.”

He covered the plate with both hands. They both giggled.
They’d always been able to make each other laugh. They were the best of friends. Both knew that would never change. There was a lot of security in that, being totally accepted for what they were, good or bad, and being loved anyway. They just fit, they always had.

She looked so happy he
didn’t want to ruin her mood with his news, but he knew if he didn’t tell her she’d find out through someone else. And it was just better it come from him. “St. Mary's called today.” Her face suddenly fell. She knew what he was going to say even before he said it. “Someone wants Adam. It looks like the real deal this time.”

She nodded.
She’d been expecting it. “And Dani?”

He shook his head, which caused her to heave an exasperated sigh as she threw her napkin onto her plate and leaned back against the booth with her arms crossed.
“You know the drill. They want babies, not ten-year-olds…. especially ones that require her level of care.”

“
Funny,” Adele snorted. “That was exactly why I wanted her. Only pill popping schizophrenics don’t usually get a vote. Who knew?” He didn’t know what to say. He understood her frustration and couldn’t understand why the courts couldn’t see who Adele was beyond some stupid stack of papers. She was so much more than her problems. If only she believed that as much as he did. “But I guess it’s for the best. I’m not exactly in any shape to be any body’s mother right now.”

She
didn’t have to tell him. He knew it from the moment he laid eyes on her. “I thought the new meds were working.”

She shook her head. Michael never recalled a time she looked so defeated.
“They were. But now they’re not. Same old story. The nightmares are back. Only they’re different this time.”

“
Were you finally able to open a door?”

Again she shook her head.
“No, it wasn’t that. There was someone there. And it wasn’t anyone I knew. In fact, it was that lady from the Maldonado funeral.”

His brown knit.
“What lady?”

“
The older one. She looks like a gypsy. Kind of creepy. And she doesn’t like me one bit.”

He nodded.
“You must mean Isabel, their spiritual adviser.”

“
Their what?”

“
Their psychic.”

Adele
couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“
No,” Michael was matter-of-fact. “She’s an old family friend they believe has psychic powers. She reads their palms, reads the tarot and her crystal ball, concocts magical herbal remedies and even helps people resolve their past life issues.”

She just grinned. What a bunch of malarkey. But what amused her more is how the devout priest could process such information.
“And what do you have to say about all that?”

He shrugged.
If his faith depended on what others believed, he’d be a sorry priest indeed. “To each their own. We all have to decide what we can believe in. If you’re curious you should call her yourself.”

“
Sure. What’s the 900 number?

He just laughed as he threw an onion ring at her. She popped it into her mouth with a
nother smile.

The rest of the day sped away from Adele as she prepped her story on the grave desecration. She meant to call Dani at the
children’s home because she knew how distraught the young girl would be at the prospect of being separated from her brother. Adam was the only biological family she had left. Now that he was going to be adopted, Dani truly was on her own.

It reminded Adele of the ordeal she went through trying to adopt Dani. The pain had been unbearable as the courts reminded her once again she was not good enough for love. Nothing was worse than having
her inner dialog confirmed. Michael had tried to get her to continue the fight, to show them she was more than just a bunch of words on a piece of paper. But for Adele the wounds had cut much too deep. For her own sanity and for Dani’s best interests, she had to drop the fight. Dani didn’t deserve continually having her hopes raised and dashed on a very thin “Maybe.”

That final courtroom appearance Adele and Dani made a pact. They would always be there for each other no matter what. Life may get in the way to delay it, but Adele had always come through. She knew that Dani would understand if she had to call her the next day.

At least she was alive, Adele thought to herself. She couldn’t even try to put herself in Marisol Maldonado's shoes. Losing a child so violently was bad enough. To have the grave upturned and the body stolen was incomprehensible.

Adele picked up a photo of Lily Maldonado as she sat at her desk in the warm orange hue of the setting sun. It was a school photo, the one released for the obituary. She
couldn’t have been too much younger than Dani. She looked playful and mischievous and everything a young girl should be. But she wasn’t anymore, and Adele still didn’t know why.

The loose ends drove her crazy. She wanted to tie this story up, put the monster in jail where he belonged,
and finally find justice for all the fractured families left behind. She dug through the folder for photos of the other victims. A toddler boy. A preschooler. Another child, probably a couple of years younger than Lily.

Adele’s
brow knit together. Why hadn’t she noticed this before? She put the photos in order of their age rather than their attacks and could plainly see that the killer was graduating in age in approximate two year intervals.

Adele emptied her folder on her desk. She dug through all the information to get exact dates and ages. Ryan Kentner, aged 2 years old. Maggie Hemphill, aged 4 years old. Douglas Stevensen, aged 6 years old. Lily Maldonado, aged 8 years old. She immediately phoned the Darlington Police Department.