Possession (11 page)

It was a length of industrial rebar.

* * * *

Kiel sat in the backseat with J leaning heavily against him. She was asleep, or almost asleep. The past couple of days had been rough on her. She was wiped out and needed rest. Solid rest, not that pseudo chemically induced rest she’d been forced into accepting at the hospital. There was no way she could get any decent soul-cleansing relaxation when people were coming in and out of that room every two to three hours to take vitals or deliver meds, or whatever nonsense they deemed important.

And there was something else she needed. Something more critical than rest.

I need to get out of her life.
The thought went through his mind for the twentieth time. Or maybe it was the hundredth time. He had known it from the moment he had seen her lying on the sidewalk like a broken doll after she had screamed and fainted. J wasn’t pursuing this case like they were. No, her reason was coming from a totally different direction. He and Sam may be wading in hip-deep because it was their job, but this woman was putting herself at needless risk because she wanted to be with him and to prove herself to him. Why she felt she had to do such a thing, he couldn’t begin to guess. But the truth, when he finally accepted it, had just about done him in.

She shifted slightly, moving her head against his shoulder until she found a comfortable spot. Her left hand slid down his jacket sleeve until she reached his hand. Gently he clasped her fingers.

That river of warmth he had felt the first time she’d touched him was now a lake. No, an ocean. Fuck it. Every damn one of the seven seas! Her life force fed his emptiness, reminding him of the impossibility of their relationship.

She doesn’t need this.
She didn’t need to get any more involved in a relationship with him, not when it could end at the next full moon or whatever.

Kiel barely managed to stifle a groan.

J had said the killer had a black aura. He finally knew what she meant. He thought he had been ready to face the attacker, ready to protect them as they fled the apartment building. He didn’t know what he would do, only that he knew deep in his gut he was the only person who could face up to it and possibly survive.

It had approached like an oncoming car moving at a hundred miles an hour. Its blackness was a living energy so thick it ate up everything in its path. Ate, swallowed, then regurgitated hatred in bile-filled chunks. And he’d stood there, ready to deflect it if that was the only choice left to him, to keep it from going after the only two people who meant anything to him.

There was a wind of sorts that preceded it. A wind that blew danger, warning at the beginning with little breezes and steadily getting stronger until it was of hurricane proportions, and the signals were clanging and screeching with ear-splitting intensity. Stoically Kiel had stood there, ready. Willing to take whatever it wanted to throw at him.

Fear? Had he felt any of the terror that thing had thrown off like radio waves? Hell, yeah, but not the kind of fear he knew he should have felt. His fear had not been the self-preserving kind. Kiel hadn’t felt any fear for himself. He was dead. What did he have to fear?

The fear that nearly petrified his bones had been for Sam, but more so for J because of her handicap. And because she didn’t have the training Sam had. Sam knew how to fight, how to shoot, and how to run when all other options were spent. J didn’t have any of that. Neither did she have that innate ability to be self-sufficient. She was able to live in today’s world because there were people willing to help her. Some woman read her mail, and did her banking and shopping for her. Her own family had made sure she would be financially stable throughout her lifetime, since it would have been difficult, if not nearly impossible, for her to find any sort of decent paying job. At no time had they considered the fact that she would find someone to love her—a man or lover who would take over the responsibility of caring for her.

All of this had flashed through his mind as the entity approached him. The sound of its anger was louder than the blood-curdling roar of a tornado reverberating off the walls of the room. Mixed within it, he was aware of an overwhelming rush of sorrow. The emotions had crashed into him long before the killer came to a sudden stop directly above him.

Unable to move, unable to think, Kiel had stared upward at the formless mass until a rumbling thunder of sound in his head demanded, “Why are you back?”

Why are you back?

You were a mistake.

You are not one of them.

You were not to be.

A shudder jerked him so roughly, J’s face was dislodged from his shoulder, waking her. “Kiel?”

“Shhh. Go back to sleep. We’re almost at your place.”

“My place?”

It was after one, maybe closer to two. He had wrapped her wounded palm with Sam’s tie and instructed her to clean it out good and rebandage it once they got her home.

Got her home, kept her home, and kept her away from him.

How in hell could he justify entertaining ideas of loving her? What right did he think he had believing he could just waltz into her life, when there was no telling when he would blink out of existence?

“Kiel, what are you thinking?”

“Mmm?” He bent his head slightly and nuzzled the top of her crown where it was resting on his collarbone. These last few moments were so precious. So fatally precious.

“You’re too quiet. The both of you.”

Her voice was fuzzy, yet slightly accusing. Kiel knew a tiny smile would be pulling at the corners of those full lips.

“Umm, Jewel.”

“Huh?”

“Jordan. Joselyn. Or maybe it’s Jodi.”

Her soft laughter bubbled out of her. “Oh, God, you’re not starting that up again, are you?”

“Hey. New day, new attempt. Maybe you’re named after one of the months. Is it July? Or June? What’s the other—oh! January.”

A hand came up and playfully whacked him on the thigh. Pure hunger shot straight to his groin, heavy and demanding, and it took everything in him not to groan from the sensation. Unfortunately a bit of his discomfort leaked out, forcing him to cover for it.

“What’s wrong?”

Damn her. She’d heard and gotten concerned.

“Don’t tell me it’s something totally outrageous like Jakaweela.” He tried to sound horrified.

J lifted her face and literally shrieked with laughter. The sudden reaction both surprised and delighted him.

“Jaka-
what
?”

“Okay, so it’s not Jakaweela. Maybe it’s something old-fashioned like Judith. Or Josephine.”

“Heaven help us.”

Sam’s smooth baritone warbled the tune unerringly. When he stopped, J gasped.

“You have a beautiful voice!”

“Thank you.” Sam grinned.

“How about you?” she asked, turning back to Kiel.

“Sam got the looks and the talent in the family. I got the leftovers. The dregs.”

A slight furrow wrinkled her forehead. “Why do you cut yourself down?”

“Why not?”

She answered him with a harder slap on the shoulder. “Make the most of what you were given, dammit,” she replied. “Do you hear me doing the ‘poor, poor, pitiful me’ act?”

“Well, excuse me, but I’ll take your blindness and up it one death and a missing corpse!”

The moment the words were out of his mouth, he regretted it. “J, I’m sorry. I—” He stopped when she reared back and moved away from him. Glancing over at Sam he noticed the man keeping his attention on the road. Fortunately they had arrived at the big Victorian house. Getting out, Kiel hurried over to help J out of the car. She allowed him to walk her to the front gate, where she halted.

“I can go the rest of the way by myself,” she said coldly.

“J, listen.”

She whirled on him. Her face was flushed with rage, her whole body stiff. “No,
you
listen. Okay, you’re dead. You’ve returned, you don’t know why, and you have no friggin’ idea where your body is. Okay.
But you’re here,
Kiel! You’re here for however long, only God knows. So why…” She gazed at him with those hazel eyes that reflected her soul. Tears were welling up in them, tears that roughened her voice. “Why are you being so negative? Instead of rejoicing in the fact that you have this opportunity?”

She sniffed as she stared a moment longer at him. It was uncanny how she could pin him down with a glare, even though there was no way she could watch his reaction.

Kiel bowed his head. He knew she wanted to say more, maybe to ask him why he wasn’t grateful for the fact that they had been given time to be with each other, to share it. Hell, he was more than grateful. He could practically drop to his knees and kiss her feet for the blessing. Yet for some reason he couldn’t tell her so. Something was holding him back, and when the look of expectancy on her face slowly died, he mentally slapped himself.

Realizing he wouldn’t answer, J turned and searched for the gate with outstretched hands. Finding it, she let herself in and proceeded up the walk. Kiel watched until she had climbed the short steps to the porch and let herself into the house. After another minute, he muttered a select word and went to sit in the front seat of the car.

* * * *

“Smooth move, Romeo,” Sam muttered, backing the vehicle out of the driveway. He slid a glance sideways, but Kiel was wearing that pensive look he was too familiar with. The look that said he was in deep thought, and the outcome wouldn’t be to anyone’s satisfaction. “I’m going to stop at Burger Barn for a hamburger before heading back to the station.”

Kiel’s reply was a slight shrug of his shoulder.

Sighing loudly, Sam took the drive-through to get lunch. They were back at the station less than twenty minutes later.

They both filed their reports stating the weapon of choice had been a length of number four, half-inch concrete reinforcing bar. A member of the Crime Scene Unit was dispatched back to the apartment building to take samples, which were then taken to the lab and morgue for testing. By six that evening they had their answer.

“Good job on the murder weapon,” Captain Redd began as they entered his office.

Kiel paused, knowing the other shoe would soon drop. Captain adhered to a strict good news/bad news form of reporting.

“The rebar matches the wounds on a couple of our victims, right down to the marks on the bones. All we need is
the
piece he’s using.” The man flipped a page in the folder, read to himself for a few seconds, then closed the folder. “I see we’ve also gathered more evidence that this last murder was committed up on the fourth floor of that same building. Has Miss Laurent been instrumental in helping you on this case?”

Kiel took the initiative. “Yeah.” He nodded. “She led us to the rebar and the fourth floor apartment where the last murder occurred.”

“What about a suspect?”

It was time for the other shoe.

“That’s going to be a bit trickier,” Kiel began, when Sam butted in.

“We suspect the killer is doing most of his work in that apartment complex, then taking the bodies to the other locations to finish the job.”

The captain narrowed his eyes. “You sure about this?”

“More than sure,” Kiel said.

“How’s he transporting the bodies? Can we get a handle on the vehicle?”

Kiel turned to see Sam giving him the eye. “We haven’t gotten a handle on that yet.”

“What about the dump sites? Are they connected to the victims? Have we gotten
any
connection between the victims?”

“We’re still working on it,” Sam muttered.

“
Fuck
the ‘still working on it’! What’s it gonna take before you can give me another solid piece of this puzzle? Another victim?” The man was yelling now. He was a bullhorn in a suit and tie. Running a hand over his thinning hair, the captain took a deep breath. “Do I need to put a couple of men at that apartment? Watch for anyone coming or going?”

Again Sam and Kiel exchanged glances. This time, however, the captain caught their silent signals.

“What? Speak up!”

Kiel licked his lips. It didn’t help; there was no longer any moisture in his mouth. A spirit couldn’t even cry. “There’s no telling when or if the killer will kill again,” he commented. “How are you going to justify the use of manpower?”

“That’s my problem, not yours.” Captain Redd leaned back in his chair. His arms rested on the arms of the enormous chair, fingers tap-tapping nervously on the vinyl. “Well, I gotta admit that Laurent woman has given us more in a couple of days than we’ve been able to gather in three weeks. By the way, how’s she doing?”

“She’s fine,” Kiel admitted. “We dropped her off at her place on the way back.”

“What happened at the scene? I was told she fainted and banged her head on the sidewalk.”

“Too many people.” Sam was quick to intervene. “I think she got jostled by the crowd and it spooked her.”

“And where were you two nimrods? Weren’t you were supposed to be keeping an eye on her?” Throwing the two men another accusing glare, the captain finally threw his hands into the air. “All right! Enough of the back patting. What’s your next plan of action?”

Sam hurried to answer. “The connection.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t find any connection between the victims.”

“Not between the victims. Between the drop sites. I think we’ve been going about this bass-ackwards.” Kiel turned to his brother. “I don’t think those drop sites are random. I think there’s a reason why the Shredder picked those places to finish what he started.”

“Think so?” Sam asked.

“Has to be,” Kiel insisted. “Otherwise, why not just do it all in one place and be done with it?”

A tiny grin creased one corner of Sam’s mouth. “You gettin’ a hunch?”

“Yeah. A big one.”

“Do we need to go back and get J?”

“No. Not now. Let’s check something out first.”

“Okay. I’m game. Where to?”

Giving himself a moment to compose himself, Kiel answered, “The park. Where that big-ass ugly statue of that clown is sitting.”