Shadow of Danger (15 page)

He looked to his cell phone recording every word she said, wishing they were in an environment with a doctor or a forensic psychologist. But he’d stupidly allowed his emotions, his feelings for Celeste to rule his sensible mind. Now he was stuck, treading in unfamiliar territory.

Sweat began to coat his forehead and upper lip. His stomach soured. The case wasn’t worth putting Celeste through another trance. Even if she wouldn’t remember her own words and visions, he would. Ready to shake her out of it, he moved forward. She recoiled, then scooted against the couch cushions. 

“He knows I’m awake. Oh God. Not again.” Tears hung, unshed around her blue gray eyes. Her mouth gaped open, puffs of air coming in quick succession. She blinked once and an odd look of relief crossed her pale face. 

“What is it?” he asked tentatively. Not sure if he wanted to know.

“I...I don’t know, I think I’m safe for now. He raped me, you know.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Raped and punched me so many times. I tried to fight him. My mom used to beat me, say I was nothing, just a little slut, but I was a virgin.” She bit her trembling lip. “I was a virgin,” she whispered again. “And he knew. I know he did.” She raised her voice.

John swallowed back grief for the woman using Celeste’s body to tell her story. While he desperately wanted to end the trance, end the pain crossing Celeste’s beautiful face, he couldn’t. Not yet. They’d come this far and if she had been willing to risk herself to undergo the trance, he hoped they could walk away with some answers and leads. “What’s he doing now?” he asked.

“Staring at me,” she said, her tone devoid of emotion.

“Honey,” he coaxed. “Can you see him?”

She nodded. “I’d thought he was so hot. How stupid. Why would a good-looking guy want anything to do with me?”

“Can you describe him?”

A wan smile touched her lips. “The ideal, only the ideal fucking sucks. I was better off sticking with those skinny, dorky guys.”

“He’s big then?”

Tears slid down her cheeks. “Too big. He...he hurt me so bad. I ache.” She reached between her thighs. “I was a virgin,” she whispered again.

Hating himself, hating putting her through this, he asked, “Please, honey, can you tell me what he looks like? If I know, I can help you.”

“Dark hair, trimmed beard, oh God, I was so stupid to think he’d like a girl like me.”

Winston? Was it possible? “Shh, you’re beautiful,” he said, hoping to soothe her.

“No, I’m fat, but he said he liked my curves, and he smelled so good, and I thought he was sexy. If only I’d known,” she said, then gasped.

Panic clawed at him. “What’s happening?”

“Shut up and listen. Someone’s coming, can’t you hear it? The leaves are crunching. Closer...closer.” Breath whooshed from her lungs. “Oh my God, there’s another one. He’s wearing a mask,” she said in a rush. “His eyes are beady, like a little rat. I can’t see anything else.”

“His build, scent?”

“No, I can’t,” she sobbed, hiccupped then calmed herself. “Wait, okay, I can do this. He’s tall, but skinny. And he stinks. Like bleach.”

She suddenly shoved at her breasts and stomach. “Stop touching me. It hurts, he’s so rough. I need to get away...wait.”

She gulped as a deep frown creased her forehead. “They’re talking about me and laughing. It’s not funny you pricks,” she shouted. “It’s not funny. Oh no, the guy with the mask is coming for me.” She scooted her legs under her and edged into the corner of the couch.

Watching, witnessing, taking part in her horror, he didn’t know what to do. Even though he knew Celeste wasn’t the one being tortured, his heart raced and instinct kicked in. “Run, honey. Run.”

“I can’t. He’s—” She screamed, and flipped onto her stomach, then released another muffled cry into the cushions. Her body began to rock in deep forceful jerks as if an invisible force slammed into her backside. Gasping and wailing, she strained her neck back away from the cushions and flailed her arm behind her reaching for her hair.

“It hurts so bad.” She began to cry. “He’s pulling my hair, grunting like a fucking pig and laughing. Laughing because they both took my virginity.” Her head slammed against the cushions, her body jerking violently. “Make it stop, make it stop,” she pleaded into the cushions, tears streaming down her face.

Disgust ran through his already soured stomach. The urge to hurt, to maim, to kill settled deep in his soul. The powerful force spread through him, along with helplessness. The victim Celeste had become was not only raped, but now was being sodomized. Right in front of his fucking eyes. 

For the first time in years, tears burned and swelled. He couldn’t stand watching Celeste undergo this horror, whether she was reenacting another person’s nightmare or not. As he was about to shake her from the trance, she flipped onto her back, reached out, scratching, clawing. He ducked and missed a swing. 

Her breathing grew heavy, she panted and gasped. Blond curls stuck to the sweat coating her face. “Get away from me you sick fucks. Get away,” she yelled and kicked at the air. “How’d you like that?”

Tears stained her cheeks and her breathing calmed. A slow, chilling smile shaped her lips. “I hurt the masked one, got him right in the balls. Now’s my chance, I’ve got to run. I’ve got to...he’s on me. My neck...I...I...” As she kicked her legs, she gasped and clawed at the loose collar of her sweater. “I can’t breathe. I can’t...”

She suddenly stopped moving. Her breath came in short, shallow puffs as she dropped her arms away from her neck and closed her eyes. 

“Honey, are you with me?”

“It’s so dark,” she whispered. “No moon tonight. The blackness is good, though. I’m not scared anymore.”

Gulping, he stared down at her. “Why do you say that?” he asked, even though he already suspected the answer. Celeste was the vessel of a dying woman. As the thought ran through his mind, so did another. Could she go into cardiac arrest? Damn it, he should never have allowed this to happen without a doctor present. Stupid, so stupid.

“Celeste, wake up. You have to wake up,” he shouted.

She furrowed her brows, then a serene smile crossed her lips. “So dark. No sound but the mill. It always did help put me to sleep. The humming and drumming...it’s relaxing. I’m going to sleep now.”

Fear had him grabbing Celeste by her upper arms and shaking her like a rag doll. “Wake up, baby. Please.” He cradled her to his chest. “Wake up, wake up,” he begged over and over, as he tried to jar her from the trance. As he rocked her body against his, a tear escaped and rolled down his cheek.

She drew in a deep, gasping breath, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Embracing her tight to his chest, he held her and swore he never wanted to let her go. Ever. He wanted to cherish her, love her, keep her safe and secure. Always. They might have only known each other for a short time, but he knew in his gut, in his heart, in his soul, that she was his. He’d tried to deny their connection, tried to deny the chemistry that had confused his logical mind and set his body on fire, but he couldn’t any longer. Watching, witnessing Celeste suffering the death of another woman made him realize how short life truly was, and that life without her would be meaningless.

He held her tighter. Until Celeste, he’d been running on autopilot. Punishing himself for Renee’s crimes. Tired of living like an unemotional robot, he wanted the warmth, the trust Celeste offered. He also wanted her off the investigation.  

“You’re crushing me,” she half-giggled.

“Sorry,” he said, and with reluctance, eased back. She’d scared the hell out of him tonight, and he didn’t want to let her go.

Her smile faltered as she lay her hand against his cheek, wiping the single tear away. “John?” Her eyes had returned to their normal bright blue. She looked confused, disoriented and blessedly alive. 

“What happened? Did I...?” She let her hand fall away and winced. “Was it that bad?”

He cupped her face then kissed the corner of her mouth. “Worse. You won’t be doing this again.
Ever.
”

She stiffened. “
Ever?
”

“That’s what I said. It’s for your own good.” There was no way in hell he’d allow her to go through another trance. She might not remember it, but what if in the dark recesses of her mind, the vision showed itself? He didn’t want to take that chance. He didn’t want to risk her remembering the beatings, the rape and sodomy, the death.

“For my own good,” she echoed.

“Exactly.”

“So you’re not going to tell me about the trance.”

Not in this lifetime. “Now’s not the time. I need...to listen to the recording.” Remembering his cell phone, he quickly shut off the recording device then slipped the phone in his pocket.

“You promised to let me listen,” she said, her tone firm and laced with accusation.

“Not tonight,” he spoke louder than he’d meant, the fear, the terror of what he’d witnessed ran strong. He’d break every damned promise to protect her. If she heard herself being...

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Then when?”

Never. He shoved a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Just let me listen to it again and then maybe—”

“Forget it.” Her eyes hardened into blue shards of ice. “It’s time for you to go.”

“Celeste, no.” He laid his hands on her shoulders to keep her from storming away from him. He hadn’t meant to hurt her or betray her. He only wanted to protect her.

“Then at least tell me what I said.”

He looked to the ceiling before meeting her gaze. “I can’t. Not tonight. I need—”

“To go,” she said, knocking his hands from her shoulders.

Panicking, he snagged her hand before she stalked off, then turned her to face him. “I can’t leave you alone.”

“I’m a big girl. Besides, I’m used to being alone.”

“You don’t have to be,” he said softly. “After what you said during the trance, I can’t leave you here by yourself.”

She frowned and shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

“You know how you’d said that during the second vision you’d felt as if you were being pulled in two different directions? That’s because there were two men attacking the victim in your vision.”

Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. “Was one of them Winston?”

“Could be, but I’m not sure.”

“And the other? Did I describe him?”

“I’m not going into details until I’ve listened to the recording again. Please believe me. It’s for your own good.”

Shaking her hand free of his, she stomped toward the foyer. “Stop saying that. I’m not a child.”

“Then quit acting like one,” he countered.

“Really?” She laid the sarcasm on thick.

“Okay, I didn’t mean that, but you have to trust me on this. Look, in all likelihood, there’s another killer out there. If he knows about you, you could be a threat to him.”

“Give me a break.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you really think a killer is going to look at me as a
threat?
Hell, half of this town thinks I’m a crackpot. I highly doubt—”

“Why are you being so stubborn about this? Damn it, Celeste, you didn’t see the woman from the bog. He sliced her face, cut her stomach wide open. I’m not about to discount anything where you’re concerned. But if you don’t want me here, then I’m calling Roy. He can find someone else to babysit you then until this investigation is over.”

As he reached for his cell phone, she gripped his arm. “I do
not
need a babysitter.”

“The hell you don’t.”

A knock at the door had them both pausing. She quickly released his arm, then moved to the door. After peering through the peep hole, she released a sigh. “Hey,
Will,” she said as she let her brother into the foyer.

Will glanced between the two of them, then settled his gaze on Celeste. “Everything okay?”

“Just fine,” she said, “John was just leaving.”

“Celeste,” he began, then stopped when she raised a hand.

“Will you stay here tonight?” she asked her brother.

“Sure. Mind if I do some laundry?”

“Not at all,” she said, and kept her gaze on his rather than Will’s.

“Cool, I’ll just run to the apartment and get my things. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

After Will left, John moved toward her. “Look, I know you’re upset, but before you kick me out, let me just say this.” He cupped her cheeks, then sifted a hand through her soft curls and held her head. “I believe in you. Can you give me the same? Can you just hang tight for tonight and let me sort out what happened during the trace? I want to talk to Roy about it, and see what Carl finds during the autopsy on the girl from the bog.”

The kitchen door banged shut. “It’s just me,” her brother shouted, but thankfully didn’t enter the living room.

“Please, Celeste.” He stroked her cheek. “Can we talk tomorrow?”

“You know where I work,” she said, and looked away.

He resisted rubbing his thumb along her pouting lips. “I was hoping for something more private.”

She met his gaze then, and stared at him as if he were a stranger. As if they’d never met or shared a deep, unexplainable intimacy.