know?”
He kept talking, stories of Teddy spilling from his mouth and making his chest hurt. The buildup of memories. Of his brother’s unrealized potential. If he’d gone with him that day. All his brother had wanted to do was talk. A conversation with his younger brother that might have stopped him from leaving this world.
37
Dee Carney
Jason’s eyes burned with the need to shed tears, but he blinked them back and kept talking. He told the woman who didn’t hear him of the pranks they’d played. The girlfriend who was Thad’s and then Jason’s later.
Her words became more coherent now. Home. Help. Him. An alliteration that made him smile. What was going through that mind of hers right now?
Laura said she wasn’t a danger to herself or to others. Just perhaps incapable of fending for herself and needed monitoring in this state. He wondered about her family.
If she had friends.
He couldn’t recall pictures around her apartment, anything to clue him in that she had a social life. He’d never seen her in the company of anyone else. Always by herself with her nose buried in a book, perhaps.
“He’ll help me.”
Jason risked a glance at her. “Who, baby? Who’s gonna help you?” A moment of surprise followed his questions. Baby? It was the endearment he used with previous girlfriends. To use it with Sabrina, well, her sad state coaxed it out of him. That had to be the explanation.
“Love’s lost and never to be found again. Murderers to be caught. Babies mourned.”
Her gibberish made him sit up from his slump. He had a thought. “What are the voices telling you? Are they telling you to hurt yourself?”
“Take me to him.”
The car turned the corner on the road to their building. He’d see her upstairs and try to locate a twenty-four-hour pharmacy. He spoke slowly, methodically. “We’re going. But first, I need you to tell me about the voices.”
“Felice needs you.”
A chill shivered down his spine, and every single hair on his arms rose. That name.
He recognized the woman’s name and it was too coincidental that it would appear on the automatic writing note, as well as for Sabrina to speak it now. “How do you know that name, Sabrina? Where did you see it?”
“I can’t help them,” she mumbled, facing away from him.
“Tell me about Felice. Who is she?”
“He’s lonely there.”
“Felice. Concentrate on that name.”
She folded her arms over her chest, saying nothing more.
Jason mentally urged the cabbie to go faster, the urgency to get her home spiking his adrenaline. His palms grew sweaty, but he gripped the seatback in front of him harder. Who was Felice and why did her name resurface again to Sabrina?
He didn’t doubt his neighbor had some connection to the world of the dead, but something in him suggested her name was important. If the automatic writing had been 38
Intimate Whispers
an attempt to contact Teddy, and if they’d been successful, there was a message in that name he needed to decipher.
I need some help here, bro. Who is Felice?
The car lurched to a stop and he jumped out, heedless to cars swerving around the illegally loitering cab. Jogging to the passenger side, he pulled open her door and squatted in front of her. “Hey, Sabrina? Look at me.” He nudged her face gently when she didn’t. “Tell me what the voices are saying to you.” She looked past him, her gaze climbing the exterior walls of their home. “He’s waiting for me.”
Pulling back the curse simmering his blood, Jason tried again. Felice and this guy she kept referring to. They were important. He knew it. “Tell me what they’re saying.
Help me understand what you are hearing and I will get you to him.” He fell flat on his ass when she shoved him aside. Scrambling to his feet, he swiveled to find her. “Sabrina!”
She whirled, swaying as if she’d spent the night drinking instead of under the watch of ER nurses. “I need him!”
“Goddamn it, wait!” He
He kept talking, stories of Teddy spilling from his mouth and making his chest hurt. The buildup of memories. Of his brother’s unrealized potential. If he’d gone with him that day. All his brother had wanted to do was talk. A conversation with his younger brother that might have stopped him from leaving this world.
37
Dee Carney
Jason’s eyes burned with the need to shed tears, but he blinked them back and kept talking. He told the woman who didn’t hear him of the pranks they’d played. The girlfriend who was Thad’s and then Jason’s later.
Her words became more coherent now. Home. Help. Him. An alliteration that made him smile. What was going through that mind of hers right now?
Laura said she wasn’t a danger to herself or to others. Just perhaps incapable of fending for herself and needed monitoring in this state. He wondered about her family.
If she had friends.
He couldn’t recall pictures around her apartment, anything to clue him in that she had a social life. He’d never seen her in the company of anyone else. Always by herself with her nose buried in a book, perhaps.
“He’ll help me.”
Jason risked a glance at her. “Who, baby? Who’s gonna help you?” A moment of surprise followed his questions. Baby? It was the endearment he used with previous girlfriends. To use it with Sabrina, well, her sad state coaxed it out of him. That had to be the explanation.
“Love’s lost and never to be found again. Murderers to be caught. Babies mourned.”
Her gibberish made him sit up from his slump. He had a thought. “What are the voices telling you? Are they telling you to hurt yourself?”
“Take me to him.”
The car turned the corner on the road to their building. He’d see her upstairs and try to locate a twenty-four-hour pharmacy. He spoke slowly, methodically. “We’re going. But first, I need you to tell me about the voices.”
“Felice needs you.”
A chill shivered down his spine, and every single hair on his arms rose. That name.
He recognized the woman’s name and it was too coincidental that it would appear on the automatic writing note, as well as for Sabrina to speak it now. “How do you know that name, Sabrina? Where did you see it?”
“I can’t help them,” she mumbled, facing away from him.
“Tell me about Felice. Who is she?”
“He’s lonely there.”
“Felice. Concentrate on that name.”
She folded her arms over her chest, saying nothing more.
Jason mentally urged the cabbie to go faster, the urgency to get her home spiking his adrenaline. His palms grew sweaty, but he gripped the seatback in front of him harder. Who was Felice and why did her name resurface again to Sabrina?
He didn’t doubt his neighbor had some connection to the world of the dead, but something in him suggested her name was important. If the automatic writing had been 38
Intimate Whispers
an attempt to contact Teddy, and if they’d been successful, there was a message in that name he needed to decipher.
I need some help here, bro. Who is Felice?
The car lurched to a stop and he jumped out, heedless to cars swerving around the illegally loitering cab. Jogging to the passenger side, he pulled open her door and squatted in front of her. “Hey, Sabrina? Look at me.” He nudged her face gently when she didn’t. “Tell me what the voices are saying to you.” She looked past him, her gaze climbing the exterior walls of their home. “He’s waiting for me.”
Pulling back the curse simmering his blood, Jason tried again. Felice and this guy she kept referring to. They were important. He knew it. “Tell me what they’re saying.
Help me understand what you are hearing and I will get you to him.” He fell flat on his ass when she shoved him aside. Scrambling to his feet, he swiveled to find her. “Sabrina!”
She whirled, swaying as if she’d spent the night drinking instead of under the watch of ER nurses. “I need him!”
“Goddamn it, wait!” He
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