Beyond the Shadows (2 page)

Kelly frowned at the use of
if
. “And if it is?”

The doctor sighed heavily. “Then he may not wake up at all.”

****

Nate floated in total darkness. Weightless in body, his mind drifted, uncluttered and free. Light. For an endless moment, he gloried in it. For a man who’d lived a daily routine of struggling not to put a gun to head, the sensation was alien.

Gradually, he became aware he’d been wrong. The darkness wasn’t complete. A gentle glow of light illuminated the space, and he realized he wasn’t alone. He glanced over at the person who’d appeared next to him and frowned in confusion. The harder he peered at the figure, the more their features blurred, as if he viewed them through a smeared pane of glass.

“What the hell?”

“Not hell, Constable O’Leary,” a voice replied with a laugh.

Nate squinted harder, frustration building.

“Stop trying so hard,” the voice soothed. “If you relax, you’ll be able to see me as clearly as I can see you. Just let go.”

Nate scowled at the figure. “Cut out the airy fairy bullshit and tell me where I am, and why your voice is so familiar.”

“Ah, O’Leary. You were always so adamant everything was black and white. Gray was an impossible shade in your well-ordered life. Have a look around.” The blur of an arm swept to encompass their surroundings and despite himself, he found sprinklings of joy touch him as muted clouds of silver and gray sparkled and danced around them. “Gray is to be celebrated along with all the other rich palettes on Earth’s plane. Nothing is overlooked or impossible here. You’re here to have your mind forced open to the possibilities life offers before you’re sent back to make amends for the mistakes you’ve made.”

The face of the man finally materialized before he could demand what he was on about and Nate inhaled sharply.

“Surprised to see me, Nathaniel?”

Evil personified gazed back at him through unconcerned eyes. Scott Williams. The man they’d dubbed the mortician murderer. Images of the man’s victims flashed through his mind as if on a screen. Beauty destroyed with such abandon. Rage suffused him.

“You bastard,” he choked, wanting nothing more than to strike that hated face but his limbs failed to obey. “Why aren’t you in hell? I would have thought you’d be right at home there.” He strained towards him and let out a growl when his body refused once again to budge.

“Violence isn’t condoned here.” Williams smirked. “It’s impossible to raise a hand in anger. Only good thoughts may be acted on.”

“The thought of pummeling your face felt good to me,” Nate snarled and tried again.

“Now, now, Nathaniel. If anyone has the right to pummel the other, surely it’s me.”

Nate narrowed his eyes on the other’s face at the retort. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

Williams held his gaze. All trace of humor fled. “You put away the wrong man. You were so blinded by what you believed and frustrated by the law’s inability to hold me, you ignored your instincts. Why look deeper when you were handed the case on a nice, shiny platter? It was bad enough being a suspect for so long, but when that piece of dodgy evidence pointed to me and those photos of my hobby came out, my wife left me. I never wanted her to find out. I knew she wouldn’t understand.” A flash of sorrow flitted across his features. “She was humiliated and couldn’t bear to look at me again. That’s the true reason I killed myself. Not for any misguided sense of remorse.” He huffed out a humorless laugh. “But I guess the thought helped you sleep at night, did it, Constable for your part in my death?”

Nate stared at him. It was a trick. There was no way they’d gotten the wrong man. Denial ran hot and a vein throbbed at his temple. “How do you explain being photographed outside that girl’s house—
spying
on her? It’s just a little too coincidental she was killed that same night don’t you think?”

He waited for a response then sneered as Williams’ bland expression faltered. Words spat out of him, machine-gun furious. “I don’t know of many others whose
hobby
consists of dressing corpses in evening-wear and staging them for photographs. That doesn’t strike me as something a normal,
innocent
man does. That’s just flat-out nuts you sick fuck. You probably could have kept that quiet, but you decided to share the photos with your weirdo buddies. You should have known any kind of pressure exerted on them and they’d squeal, just like the pigs you lot are.”

Williams shook his head, his expression mournful. “My friends never truly understood my reasons for the photos. To them, it was all a bit of harmless fun, a way to pass the time. It became a game to see who could be the most outrageous. Working with the dead can get too maudlin at times and you need
something
to release those emotions.” He glanced up, his gaze sharpening. “To me, it’s always been more than that. I celebrated their time on earth, giving them the final farewell they deserved and were cheated of when death took them too early. I
respected
those girls. Their lives were cut short.”

“By you,” Nate shot out. “You’re a despicable human being. I saw what you did to them. There was no respect that I could see.”

“That wasn’t me. I didn’t kill them,” Williams shouted. “When will you get that through your thick skull? But I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to understand. Most people don’t. They’ve always thought I was strange, but the dead don’t judge. They listen—always—no matter what I say or what I’ve done. No-one was being hurt.”

“See, that’s where the problem lies, Williams. And you still don’t see it. You
did
hurt people. Those photos of you playing dolls with their loved ones’ bodies will live with them forever. You were their funeral director. They trusted you during a time of unbearable grief, and you shattered that trust.” He eyed Williams, searching for any hint of remorse. The lack of any emotion but those of self-pity and righteousness infuriated him. “Judging by the photos on your website, you’ve been doing this for a long while, but then you wanted more beautiful bodies to play with. Women that hadn’t died of natural causes were infinitely more attractive than ones ravaged by illness. You have to admit you enjoyed playing with them just a little bit more.”

“That may be so, but I didn’t kill them,” he repeated in a tired voice. “Why do you think you finally stumbled across that evidence? Why would the killer be so careless when up until then you’d found nothing? Because someone planted it to frame me. Open your eyes, O’Leary!” Williams’ voice shook with passion and his gaze bored into him. “The real killer is out there ready to strike again if he hasn’t already. But while you’re stuck like a broken record believing I’m the guilty party, there’s nothing you can do about it, and more women will die.”

Suddenly, Williams’ form started to waver and his mouth curved up in a beatific smile. “It looks like I’m out of here. At last.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “I said what I needed to say. Now, you need to act on it.”

“Wait,” Nate reached out a hand to stop him, but his fingers closed on air. He blinked. The man’s presence was gone as if it had never been there. He shook his head at the craziness. Had he imagined it all? Glancing around, the colors and outlines of figures that were clear just moments ago blurred and softened, merging back into shapeless blots of nothing. Confusion set in as he whirled around to find a focal point and failed. He was alone. The only thing holding back the panic he sensed waiting in the wings was his iron will.

Was he in some mad dream of his own making? Williams was right when he’d accused him of accepting things at face value, of resting on his laurels. But why would anyone dig deeper? The man was scum. The cigarette butt found at the scene belonged to Williams. No doubt about it. The DNA result was conclusive. Without it, he would have walked.

Nate shuddered at the thought. No family should have to live through that particular pain. It was a torturous hell with no escape. What were a few niggles eating away at him compared to the peace the conviction gave the affected families? There was no contest.

He’d done the right thing—hadn’t he?

God. What was with this doubt all of a sudden? Williams had been a consummate liar in life, and it seemed death had only enhanced that particular asset. A wave of exhaustion, the magnitude of which he’d never known, crashed over him. His eyes grew heavy and suddenly it became too much effort to keep them open. As he gave in to the urge to sleep, a two-word litany ran through his head, accompanying him into oblivion.

What if?

Chapter Two

Kelly woke suddenly and peeled her cheek from the vinyl chair. Something felt different.

Blinking rapidly to clear her sight, she pulled herself upright and cast a glance over the still figure of her partner. No change. He lay there as he had since the day they’d stabilized him. Nothing looked out of place as she swept her gaze around Nate’s utilitarian hospital room. The machines still bleeped and blinked, recording his body’s every function, and saline dripped steadily into a line keeping his body hydrated. Nothing had changed, including her wishful thinking.

With a groan, she dug her fingers into the back of her neck in a desperate attempt to loosen the knotted muscles before giving it up as a lost cause. She glanced at her watch and her heart thudded heavily in her chest. Day six. Time marched against him. Each passing minute was another nail in his coffin. Even the media had packed up a couple of days ago. It seemed she was the only one holding out hope. Apart from a quick shower and change of clothes at home, she’d been here, hoping to witness the miracle of him opening his eyes again.

She leaned over and stroked her fingers through his thick, dark hair. “Come on, Nate,” she whispered in his ear. Her voice thickened with unshed tears. “When you wake up, you’re going to owe me big time for all this leave I’m taking to look after you. I’m thinking dinner at that fancy restaurant on the waterfront. And then, we’ll go to the nightclub across the way—the one we’re always being called to. I can’t wait to watch your tight, little butt wriggle to the music.” She laughed lightly. “You profess to hate dancing, but I’ve seen your toes tapping to the beat a time or two. You can’t lie to me. I’m a cop remember?”

She studied his face for any signs her teasing had gotten through to him, but his features remained impassive. There wasn’t even a hint of the frown she usually found on his face when he looked at her. She couldn’t believe she missed that forbidding expression. Lately, she’d wondered if the frown was an act intended to mask his thoughts from her. She snorted. More than likely, it was her overactive imagination.

“I’m a pain in his ass and that’s the end of it.” The idea hurt—not that she’d ever admit it to anyone. Especially Nate. She’d rather have her incisors pulled out with pliers.

She rose from the chair to ease her stiff limbs, and the vinyl creaked in protest. Raising her arms over her head, she stretched to loosen the kinks in her back. Cartilage popped and she groaned aloud in relief. The hospital had provided a bed, but she’d shunned it for the chair, being able to move it closer to Nate and listen to the reassuring sound of his breathing. She needed to see the strong heartbeat register in steady blips on the machine.

A nurse bustled in pushing a trolley, and Kelly glanced at her watch. It was seven o’clock on the dot. “Impressive, Caitlyn. You run a tight ship.”

The woman threw a smile at her over her shoulder as she headed to the bathroom with an empty bowl in her hands. “We try.”

Kelly rose to allow privacy for the nurse to deal with Nate’s daily sponge bath. She bent to retrieve her bag when Caitlyn called out. “Could you hang about for a minute, Kelly? I’m going to need some help to turn Mr. O’Leary so I can wash his back. We’re short-staffed.”

Kelly hesitated, reluctant and bit her lip. The nurses were used to dealing with their patients efficiently, leaving emotions at the door. It wasn’t in Kelly to do the same, and this was
Nate.

“Are you sure you don’t have anyone else to help?” At the shake of the nurse’s head, she swallowed hard and dropped her bag.

When Caitlyn expertly loosened the hospital gown and tugged at the material, Kelly felt her face flame. She’d never felt so awkward in her life. This was her partner. The man could hardly stand to be in the same room with her. How mortified would he be to know she was about to witness him being attended to so intimately? But at the same time, a frisson of excitement lit her nerves. She’d never had occasion to be so close to him before, and even though the situation wasn’t ideal, being in close proximity to all that raw male power made her pulse race.

“Put one hand on the small of his back, and the other at his shoulder-blade. Push firmly but gently in an even manner when I tell you. Stop when he is on his side and hold him there. Okay?”

“Got it.” Gingerly, Kelly followed the instructions. The heat of his skin seared her palms, and she sucked in a quick breath through flared nostrils. When the nurse gave the instruction, she pushed. It was harder than it looked. Nate was pure muscle. Even after a week of enforced inactivity, his body was sculpted like a Greek god. She swallowed to ease a suddenly dry throat and made a valiant effort to concentrate on the mechanics of what she needed to do. When she had him on his side, she could feel the sweat from the exertion break out and slide down her back.

Before Kelly had time to prepare, the nurse flipped the gown over so she could wash him, exposing his back. Kelly gasped aloud.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Caitlyn asked in an aside then carried on with her work, oblivious to the palpitations Kelly experienced.

“Yeah,” she croaked, unable to come up with anything else. She’d had no idea he’d decorated his skin. He’d never mentioned having a tattoo. Mind you, he never offered anything personal. Black and white, the intricate design was clearly of a dragon. The scales themselves would have taken an age to create. With the finest movement from his breathing, they appeared to shimmer and move. Her gaze followed the design to the dragon’s face—arranged into an expression of ecstasy as its head rested in the lap of a woman, her head bowed over in ministration, soothing the beast. Where dragon and woman met, color exploded.