Beyond the Shadows (10 page)

Everything was normal. He put a fist to his racing heart and concentrated on forcing it back into its steady rhythm. Deep draughts of air in through the nose and out through his mouth soon had the desired effect. He caught the smell of breakfast cooking and his stomach growled, shaking off the last remnants of the dream.

He placed his feet on the ground and gingerly pushed himself upright, retrieving his clothes from the back of the chair. He eased them on, gritting his teeth at the pull on tender skin as he moved. Bone-deep aches caused him to groan and his muscles locked in protest. Like an old man, he shuffled into the kitchen and greeted Kelly with a grunt.

Her gaze flitted up and away again, her chin jerking towards the pan. “Breakfast is ready. Poached eggs on toast. I need to go do some shopping later. There’s hardly anything here. What on earth did you feed yourself before?”

He pulled out a barstool and eased himself down with a grimace. “Takeaway has always worked for me. Thanks. I could get used to this,” he added as she placed breakfast before him, the steam and aroma curling up to greet him.

She rummaged through the drawer and slid over a knife and fork, ignoring his comment, no flicker of humor on her features. “Eat up.”

He hesitated and frowned, then gave an internal shrug and picked up the utensils.
Women. They were as changeable as Auckland’s weather.
His stomach gurgled in delight as real food filled it. After wolfing it down, he pushed the plate away and looked up to find Kelly watching him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her mouth a thin line. She hadn’t eaten a thing herself and those shadows under her eyes spoke of a sleepless night. Something had happened. Whatever had upset her looked like it didn’t reflect well on him.

“What’s up?”

She stared at him a moment longer, then pushed off from the counter and led him into the lounge. “I need you to watch something. Ease my mind.”

The ominous feeling he’d felt since laying eyes on her this morning intensified and the food in his stomach formed into a heavy lump. With a sick feeling of dread, he watched her pick up the remote and aim it at the TV. He sank onto the couch and frowned at the screen as a news story flashed on. The camera focused back on the reporter and Nate’s skin prickled. A shadow figure stood behind her right shoulder. A figure exactly like the one who’d invaded his dreams.

“What is that?” he managed to choke out. His lungs struggled to refill with air, as if an invisible hand squeezed them.

“What is what?”

Without tearing his eyes away from the screen, he gestured. “The shadowy figure behind her.”

“What are you talking about?”

Nate shot her an impatient look and gestured back to the television. It had gone.
Huh?
He snatched up the remote where she’d left it on the back of the couch and rewound. He replayed the segment and frowned.
Must be in the next frame.
He allowed it to play past the point he’d seen the shadow then rewound it again with a grunt of frustration. Pressing play, he leaned forward, squinting hard at the screen. Still nothing.

“What the hell? You didn’t see it?”

She shook her head and his own pounded. Was he going mad?

“Are you okay Nate?”

He gave a humorless laugh. “Truthfully? I don’t know.” He threw the remote down and squeezed his head with his fingers, blocking out the look of concern on Kelly’s face. Slowly, the import of the news story sank into his consciousness. He’d been so busy seeing monsters that it hadn’t sunk in until now.

Cold seeped throughout his body as realization hit. He wanted to believe the visitations and dreams were a coincidence—the result of a traumatized brain from a near-death experience—but he’d never been a big believer of coincidence. The visions felt entirely too real, the details too vivid to ignore. And now, his gaze returned to the screen. More victims appeared, just as he’d been warned they would. The real killer was still out there laughing at his good fortune and the police in general. Bile rose in his throat as he realized they’d been duped

A horrifying thought occurred to him. What if that dream hadn’t been a dream at all, but a replay of what had actually transpired? If it was, he’d been looking through the eyes of the real killer. The fanciful idea made him shudder. Surely not. It was a nightmare—nothing more. But deep down, he knew better.

Kelly dropped into the chair opposite, and he lifted his head to meet her unflinching gaze.

“There were no scorch-marks on the grass where I found the cigarette, Nate. Williams didn’t drop it. Someone planted it there.”

“But who would do that?”

Silence met his question, and he stared at her, wide-eyed. His stomach dropped as he took in her meaning. “Oh,
hell
no. How could you even think such a thing? We’re partners.”

She shrugged and glanced away. “You keep things close to your chest, Nate. I don’t know you well enough to know for sure what you wouldn’t do under the circumstances. I want to believe you wouldn’t, but you wanted him so bad.”

“We all did!” His hands clenched into fists on his thighs. How could she believe such a thing of him? Hurt didn’t even begin to describe what he felt over her blatant lack of trust. “You can’t tell me you didn’t believe it was him?”

“No,” she conceded. “But we were wrong and the guilty man is still out there killing. Williams was framed. He wasn’t guilty of the crimes that sent him to jail.”

“He may have been innocent of the murders—but he wasn’t
innocent.”
He shot up, the inward fury exploding outward and glowered down at her. “Don’t play the bleeding heart, Kelly. Have you forgotten the horror on the faces of those families when they viewed those photos? He hurt a lot of people. He may not have ended their lives, but he sure as hell murdered their memories. What do you think those families picture now when they think of their loved ones?”

Kelly pressed against the back of her chair and stared up at him. Breathing heavily, Nate realized he towered over her, his stance all raw fury. “Shit.” He eased off and backed away, palms up. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He sank back into his seat and buried his head in his hands. “Christ, I’m sorry Kelly. I’m sorry for everything. I should have let you report to the sergeant then you wouldn’t be stuck in this god-awful mess.”

A pause, and then he felt a hesitant touch on his back. “I’m just as much to blame for this mess. More so. You were just trying to protect the case. Protect me.” Her voice softened along with her touch and it nearly destroyed him. He lifted his head and stared into her guileless blue eyes.

“Do you remember the day those photos appeared in the inbox?”

Kelly nodded. “It’s not something I’m likely to forget, being my first week with front line experience and all,” she replied dryly. “I remember everyone was ecstatic. You, especially.”

His mouth twisted. “I didn’t care who the photos were from or why. Just that our killer had slipped up at last—been careless. We were on to him, which meant we could stop him. When we couldn’t trace who sent the photos, it didn’t overly concern me. My first mistake,” he admitted with a grimace. “When Williams’ extracurricular activities were discovered on his computer not long after, it ceased to matter at all. I was doubly convinced we had our man, especially when under questioning the only emotions he showed were ones of smug impatience. He was an arrogant ass.”

Nate noted she no longer met his eyes. Her gaze had dropped to his hands where he’d clenched his fists again. With a conscious effort, he relaxed them and continued in a softer voice. “I wish you had seen him in that room, under that pressure. He was so cool. You’d be convinced, too. It didn’t help his case that he lied about where he’d been that night. Lied straight to my face without displaying a flicker of emotion. There was no remorse, no sympathy for the victim he’d been spying on, until I passed over the photos. Then he boiled over, and I saw the Jekyll to his Hyde.” He snorted. “He wanted to know who had taken his photo without permission. I didn’t bother pointing out the irony to him.”

Kelly’s eyebrow rose. “Yeah. He didn’t strike me as being a man on the same page with the rest of us.” She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her gaze intense. “Was there ever a time you thought we might be wrong?”

“Never.” The word came out short and hard.

She seemed taken aback by his vehemence. “But he protested his innocence from the very first day.”

“I can’t tell you how many others I’ve arrested have denied their guilt despite being caught dead in the act. He wasn’t the first to cry innocent and there’s no way in hell he’ll be the last. It’s human nature to lie yourself out of danger and to make what you do seem plausible and necessary in the greater scheme of things.”

Catching her brow rising again, he sent her a wry grin and shrugged. “Even the good guys do it, but then it’s called a white lie.”

Kelly nodded and cleared her throat. “I know how convincing the case was against him, but we destroyed his life. He had a wife, children—a standing in the community. Don’t you feel any guilt for that?”

“
He
destroyed all that. It was ruined as soon as it came out he liked to play with the dead. Where was his compassion and reverence to the dead and their families his position demanded? They’d stood by him until then,” he reminded her. “Weird though it is, I think the idea he’d murdered people was secondary to the horror of what he did with their bodies. Somehow, murder is easier to comprehend don’t you think?”

Her mouth tightened, but she didn’t negate his comment. “If you’ve been so sure he’s the killer until this point, why don’t you seem surprised to find out you might be wrong now?”

Nate caught his breath at her line of questioning. He hadn’t prepared himself for that one. He didn’t want to reveal the strange happenings, didn’t want to appear weaker and more unbalanced than he already felt. He clenched his jaw and turned his face away from her gaze.

“It’s a hell of an about-turn, Nate. If you want my trust, you need to tell me what else is going on. I know you’re holding out on me.”

Nate’s cheeks heated and he blew out a long breath. “I’ve been having dreams,” he finally admitted. “But they’re not just relegated to when I’m asleep.”

Kelly eyed him for a moment then sighed. “The doctor mentioned this might happen. He says it’s a common phenomenon for patients after a near-death experience. Your brain is still high on euphoria, happy to be alive against the odds.”

“No. It’s more than that. This is
real.
I’m lucid and completely aware. Christ,” he laughed harshly, running a finger over the nick he’d given himself from the razor. “I was in the middle of shaving when a spirit decided to pop in for a visit. And just now. The shadow-person at the shoulder of the reporter. What’s that about? I can’t be imagining it all.”

He searched her face, desperate to be believed, but all he saw was a knitted brow and worry clouding her features.

“Forget it,” he huffed and rolled his shoulders. The last thing he wanted to do was push his case and get sent to a psychiatrist. “What are you going to do with the information you have now?”

She bit her lip, eyes radiating her anxiety. “Nothing.”

His heart leapt and he opened his mouth. A raised hand interrupted him and she jumped to her feet, taking a telling step away.

“Don’t for one minute think I’m doing this just to save our asses.”

He shut his mouth with a click as she stared fiercely at him.

“I don’t like it one little bit, but just imagine the uproar if it got out. Williams would be painted as a martyr and we’ll have all the conspiracy theorists claiming we planted the evidence to close the case. It would put the whole police force into disrepute. The civilians need to trust us, that we’re doing our best by them.
They’re
who are important here.”

She stood tall, ready and willing to battle him for the community they served. He noted sorrow in her eyes, but she didn’t back down from her decision. God, she was magnificent. As if drawn by some magnetic power, he got to his feet and faced her then touched a fingertip to the curve of her cheek.
So soft.
She flinched out of reach at his touch.

He dropped his hand. “I hope you feel the same way in a year or two. I’d hate to see that fire and certainty wither away and die.”

They stood there, just staring at each other. Erratic breathing filled the silence. Nate’s hand curled at his side to stop from reaching out to her again and he jerked back a step. “So, where do we go from here?”

Kelly exhaled on a loud sigh and relaxed her stance. “I’d like you to tell me more about these dreams you’ve been having.”

“Visions,” he corrected.

She frowned and shrugged. Moving further away, she sat, her attention riveted on him. He settled across from her and gave her an edited version of the unsettling dream. No way was he going to share the part of him invading another body. That was just mad. He also kept the identity of the dead woman to himself. Even to his own ears, it sounded crazy, but admitting it was his sister would make it ten times worse, seemingly brought on by the wishful thinking of a grief-stricken brother. The pause lay heavy once he’d finished and he got the feeling she knew he hadn’t been completely open with her.

She threaded her fingers under her chin and leaned forward. “Wow. No wonder you’ve been so on edge. But, you were knocked around pretty bad, Nate. Head injuries can cause all sorts of problems. Is it any wonder you’re seeing things?”

“That’s always a possibility,” he conceded with a tired sigh, “but damn it—it feels so real. It’s like I’m being haunted. How do I get my life back on track?”

“Well, regardless of why, it seems to me you’ve got just the one option to try.”

He swiveled his head towards Kelly. “And what’s that?”

“You need to reinvestigate this case, from the very beginning. Maybe—if you can find the real killer—all of this weird stuff will go away.”