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Authors: Alvania Scarborough
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else’s keeping. Even temporarily. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust you in some way,” she muttered. The narrowing of his eyes said he was aware that she was hedging. It wasn’t rational and she couldn’t explain it but Kalesia couldn’t ignore the tiny whisper that warned against admitting out loud the depths of her trust. A therapist would have a field day with her. “You can see them but I want to be there when you do.”
He pushed his plate away and pulled a yellow legal pad closer. “You said the vision of your death is your first precognitive one?”
Appetite abruptly gone, Kalesia dropped a half-eaten biscuit and shoved her plate to the side. “Yes.”
Gabriel made a note on his pad. “Is this the first vision you’ve had that pertains to you?”
She nodded. “I don’t get visions about winning the lottery, about how to avoid an accident. I get visions about murder after the fact. Death. Violence. Believe me. I wish it was different.”
“Any idea why it was this time?”
Kalesia lifted both shoulders in a helpless shrug, at a total loss to explain. Always she got a vision of murder after the fact. Those visions were disturbing enough but if her ability was growing, was beginning to latch onto the violence before the event occurred, Kalesia truly thought she might go insane.
“None. I can’t even begin to explain why I have visions.”
“According to what you told me last night, there have been nine men, six women and two children. We’ll start with the children. Tell me about those visions.”
Kalesia winced. After the visions of the children’s violent deaths, she’d been physically ill for several days. The unfairness of their deaths, the fact that a child’s life could be quenched without a second thought, hit her like the pain of a broken bone. Only this pain refused to heal and go away.
She rubbed sweaty palms on the thighs of her jeans, wishing she could rub the guilt away as easily. Although she knew the children were already beyond help by the time she saw their broken little bodies, she couldn’t rid herself of the notion she had not done enough. She began.
By the time lunch had come and gone, a vicious pain throbbed behind her right eye. Each memory Gabriel pulled from her, some she’d thought impossible to remember after so many years, became a shard of glass in her skull. By the time late afternoon was throwing long shadows on the immaculate lawn, Kalesia was certain she was going to throw up. Bile burned the back of her throat.
Gabriel Steele had to be the most insensitive, unfeeling man she’d ever had the misfortune to meet. Like his name, the man had a heart of steel. He didn’t seem to care that these were real people, dead, their murders all but forgotten. He prodded, he poked, his tone so damned dispassionate.
“Did you keep track of the outcome of the murders?”
A serrated edge of anguish knifed through her. “Yes, I did.” She hugged her stomach. “All but four were solved.”
Gabriel sat forward, suddenly alert. “Which four?”
Something in his voice made her sit up straighter on the sofa. “The little boy, the woman I saw in a limestone quarry, the man found three years ago and the one a year later. Why? Do you really think one of them might have a bearing on the vision of my death?” Sweet mercy, she hoped so. Horrible as it was, she preferred it to random chance.
Gabriel hesitated before nodding. “It’s a possibility. At this stage of the game anything is possible. There is a very real chance it will turn out to be a blind alley,” he warned. “I’ll give Tom a call and see what he can find out about your unsolved visions. I need to call anyway, to see if he found out anything about the break-in.”
“When did you call Major Harley?” Kalesia asked, surprised.
“Last night, while you were settling in. I didn’t see much point in him getting an officer over there. I doubt the intruder was sloppy enough to leave prints.
He pushed his plate away and pulled a yellow legal pad closer. “You said the vision of your death is your first precognitive one?”
Appetite abruptly gone, Kalesia dropped a half-eaten biscuit and shoved her plate to the side. “Yes.”
Gabriel made a note on his pad. “Is this the first vision you’ve had that pertains to you?”
She nodded. “I don’t get visions about winning the lottery, about how to avoid an accident. I get visions about murder after the fact. Death. Violence. Believe me. I wish it was different.”
“Any idea why it was this time?”
Kalesia lifted both shoulders in a helpless shrug, at a total loss to explain. Always she got a vision of murder after the fact. Those visions were disturbing enough but if her ability was growing, was beginning to latch onto the violence before the event occurred, Kalesia truly thought she might go insane.
“None. I can’t even begin to explain why I have visions.”
“According to what you told me last night, there have been nine men, six women and two children. We’ll start with the children. Tell me about those visions.”
Kalesia winced. After the visions of the children’s violent deaths, she’d been physically ill for several days. The unfairness of their deaths, the fact that a child’s life could be quenched without a second thought, hit her like the pain of a broken bone. Only this pain refused to heal and go away.
She rubbed sweaty palms on the thighs of her jeans, wishing she could rub the guilt away as easily. Although she knew the children were already beyond help by the time she saw their broken little bodies, she couldn’t rid herself of the notion she had not done enough. She began.
By the time lunch had come and gone, a vicious pain throbbed behind her right eye. Each memory Gabriel pulled from her, some she’d thought impossible to remember after so many years, became a shard of glass in her skull. By the time late afternoon was throwing long shadows on the immaculate lawn, Kalesia was certain she was going to throw up. Bile burned the back of her throat.
Gabriel Steele had to be the most insensitive, unfeeling man she’d ever had the misfortune to meet. Like his name, the man had a heart of steel. He didn’t seem to care that these were real people, dead, their murders all but forgotten. He prodded, he poked, his tone so damned dispassionate.
“Did you keep track of the outcome of the murders?”
A serrated edge of anguish knifed through her. “Yes, I did.” She hugged her stomach. “All but four were solved.”
Gabriel sat forward, suddenly alert. “Which four?”
Something in his voice made her sit up straighter on the sofa. “The little boy, the woman I saw in a limestone quarry, the man found three years ago and the one a year later. Why? Do you really think one of them might have a bearing on the vision of my death?” Sweet mercy, she hoped so. Horrible as it was, she preferred it to random chance.
Gabriel hesitated before nodding. “It’s a possibility. At this stage of the game anything is possible. There is a very real chance it will turn out to be a blind alley,” he warned. “I’ll give Tom a call and see what he can find out about your unsolved visions. I need to call anyway, to see if he found out anything about the break-in.”
“When did you call Major Harley?” Kalesia asked, surprised.
“Last night, while you were settling in. I didn’t see much point in him getting an officer over there. I doubt the intruder was sloppy enough to leave prints.
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