Dead of Night

Page 52

“Police officer! Stop!”
The intruder disappeared into the darkness. For a moment, Sean thought the guy had jumped, but then he realized there was a tree just outside the room. He hurried over to the window and aimed his flashlight toward the ground.
The dark clothing blended so well with the darkness that it took Sean a moment to spot him. Then he stared in disbelief. The man descended the branches so quickly his arms and legs seemed to be working in supernatural tandem.
Sean put away the flashlight and holstered the Glock, then climbed out the window behind him. But he wasn’t as agile as his quarry. He fumbled for handholds and footholds and was only halfway down when he heard the soft thud of feet hitting the ground—then the pounding of footsteps.
Dead twigs scraped Sean’s face and hands as he went down. He misjudged the distance as he jumped from the lower branches, and his right ankle twisted. He crashed to the ground, but he was up an instant later, whipping out the flashlight again to sweep the beam through the darkness. He saw a lone figure sprinting along the same path he and Sarah had walked down the other day, and Sean took off after the man.
Before they reached the cottage, the man veered off the path and headed for the orchard. Sean raced after him through the trees, but he was in unfamiliar territory and his target quickly outpaced him. By the time Sean emerged into the adjoining field, he’d lost him.
Breathing heavily, his ankle throbbing, he searched the darkness. After a moment, a sound came to him. Muffled, distant, and yet dissonantly familiar.
Bells...
And suddenly he knew exactly where the chase was leading him.
Ignoring the pain, Sean ran to the end of the field, down the gravel drive, stopping only when he got to the edge of the overgrown yard.
The Duncan farmhouse stood silhouetted against the faint glow of moonlight. He’d only seen it in daylight, and hadn’t thought it much to look at then. Just an old, dilapidated house where a tragedy had once happened. Where a young girl’s life had been snuffed in a manner so brutal, the locals had never been able to forget it, and her sister had never been able to move past it.
Now, fourteen years later, Rachel DeLaune’s killer had returned to the scene.
And Sean was on his own. He hadn’t alerted the local authorities of his arrival, and a request for backup now would take a lengthy explanation and more time than he had to lose.
He drew his weapon and moved without the benefit of his flashlight through the tall weeds. Climbing the steps to the porch, he paused just outside the door to listen. Then he kicked the door open and flattened himself against the wall, pulse thundering.
The hinges creaked in protest. He waited a moment, then entered the house, gun lowered until he was through the door.
He stood motionless, his gaze scanning the darkness. For the longest time, he heard nothing. No footfalls. No loud breathing. Nothing but the incessant tolling of the bells.
The old house was cold and drafty, but sweat poured down the side of Sean’s face. His hands were clammy, and he wiped first one then the other on his jeans so as not to lose his grip on the pistol.
He heard a very faint rustling above him. A rat possibly. Or maybe something else.
Sean moved across the sagging floor and opened the door to the narrow stairwell. It was pitch-black inside.
Shit.
He’d be a sitting duck once he entered.
But up the steps he went, easing the door open at the top, edging around the corner, using his flashlight now to slash through the darkness.
The room was empty except for the wardrobe, and he didn’t think a grown man could fit inside. But as he turned, he noticed that the mirrored door sagged open.
Sean lifted his gun and quickly moved across the room. Standing to the side, he used his foot to fling the door open, then flashed the light inside.
A panicked rat scrambled over the edge. In the split second Sean had let his guard down, he realized his mistake. As the wardrobe door swung closed, he caught a glimpse of someone behind him in the mirror. And this time it was real. As silent as a damn ghost, the killer had followed him up the stairs.
All this went through Sean’s mind in the second it took him to whirl. But even that was too much time. Taser darts caught him in the shoulder, and fifty thousand volts of electricity pulsed through his system. He felt as if someone had taken a hammer to his spine. His whole body tensed and cramped and went completely rigid. Shoulders hunched to his ears, arms frozen at his sides, he fell with a hard crash to the floor.
A voice said from the darkness, “Don’t kill him yet. We need her gun first.”
Footsteps moved toward him.
A face peered down at him.
Sean felt a flicker of recognition the instant before a gun handle crashed against his skull.
* * *
Sarah hoped that she could remember the way. It had still been daylight when Lukas Clay had brought her out here earlier, and now darkness and panic made everything look different.
The isolation of the country road seemed strange and surreal, like she’d wandered off into a dreamworld. Panic still tightened her chest, but now that she’d formulated a plan, now that she knew Michael was on his way, she felt somewhat calmer.
She came to the dead end and slowed to a crawl as she crossed the cattle guard. Another ten minutes and her headlights picked out the clearing just ahead.
The house was dark and the driveway was empty. That was good. Just what she’d been counting on. She pulled to a stop, leaving the motor running and the headlights on as she grabbed the flashlight and got out.
Earlier, Lukas and the driver had unloaded the lumber into an old barn. Sarah walked toward it now, checking the firmness of the ground to make sure the car wouldn’t get stuck. Then she pulled around back and parked. Anyone coming up the road wouldn’t see the car, but she’d be able to spot their headlights. She might even be able to get away before they stopped her.
Stuffing the flashlight in her bag along with the gun and her cell phone, she got back out and crossed the darkened yard. She pulled back the screen door and stepped onto the porch, hoping to find a spare key under a floor mat or flower pot.
No such luck.
She trudged around the house. The back porch had been demolished and the door was several feet off the ground. Sarah dragged over a sawhorse, and balancing herself on the beam, checked the door. Making sure the safety was on, she used the handle of the gun to smash out one of the glass panes in the door. Then she reached inside and released the lock.
Drawing all the blinds in the living room, she turned off her flashlight and curled up on the couch to wait for Michael’s call.
* * *
Michael pulled into the driveway and cut the headlights. He’d called twice for directions and a third time from the gravel road to make sure he’d made the right turn. Sarah had offered to drive down to the end of the lane and wait for him, but he’d assured her that he’d eventually make his way to her.
And now here he was.
She came out to meet him and, even in the dark, he could see that she was exhausted.
She aimed the beam of her flashlight toward an old barn. “Pull around behind if you don’t mind. You’ll see my car back there.”
After he’d parked and rejoined her, he said, “Where are we?”
“In the middle of nowhere.”
“Yes, I can see that. I mean, whose house is this?”
“Would it make you feel better if I lied and said it belonged to a friend of mine?”
“In other words, we’re trespassing.” Not the greatest of conditions for the kind of deep relaxation he would need to induce in order to put her under.
“It’s safe, though. No one knows we’re here, and we’ll be gone in a few hours. I’m anxious to get started,” she said as they climbed the porch steps. “I took a Xanax earlier. It shouldn’t be that hard to put me under.”
“It’s not always that easy,” Michael said, following her inside. “You’re dealing with a great deal of stress, and hypnosis requires concentration and deep relaxation. And you need to remember that it may not give you the answers you’re looking for.”
“Meaning, I won’t be able to remember or I may not like what I remember?” They settled in the living room.
“Either or both. As I’ve told you before, tapping into the subconscious can produce unexpected consequences. Ideally, I would take several sessions to prepare you.”
“Well, we don’t have several sessions, we have right now, right here,” Sarah said. She sat back and folded her arms. “Let me ask you something. Do you believe I killed my sister, my father, all those other people?”
He answered honestly. “No, I don’t believe that. I’ve never had the sense that you’re a danger to yourself or to anyone else.”
“But someone is trying to make it seem as if I am. That’s why everything is connected to me. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that Rachel’s murder is the key. Whatever happened that night, whatever I saw, has set all this in motion. And if I don’t remember, I’ll remain a suspect. You’re the only one who can help me.”
“Have you ever been hypnotized?”
“No. One of my therapists tried once, but it didn’t take. I wouldn’t go under, but I think it was because I didn’t want to remember then. Now I do. Now I’m ready.”
Michael studied her for a moment. He could see what she’d been through the past few days. The strain was etched clearly on her face, but she also seemed determined and more resolved than he’d ever seen her.
“I want you to sit back and get as comfortable as you can while I go over a few things with you. Essentially, hypnosis is deep relaxation and focused concentration that will allow a greater awareness of your subconscious thoughts and memories. It doesn’t weaken your control, and you can do anything in hypnosis that you can do out of it, only you’re less distracted. Nothing can harm you physically. You’ll be safe and you can stop the session at any time. You’re in control, Sarah.”
As Michael spoke, he could see her muscles starting to relax.
“Do you have any questions?”
“No.”
“We’ll start out with a few relaxation exercises. After that, we’ll see if you want to continue.”
“Okay.”
After a few minutes of loosening up her muscles, he said, “Now it’s time to concentrate. See that shimmer of light on the wall. Focus on the light and relax.”
After a few minutes, he used a pinprick to test the depth of her trance. She was under.
“Sarah, you are very relaxed now, very safe, and I want you to go to a place that makes you feel happy and secure.”
She smiled dreamily.
“You’re going to travel to some other places, too, places you probably haven’t been to in a long, long time. It’s nothing to worry about. No reason to be frightened. The memories you uncover in those places can’t hurt you. The images you see are only photographs of events long past. They can’t harm you. You’re perfectly safe. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to continue?”
“Yes.”
“Take a deep breath. You’re sinking deeper into your relaxation, but you’re still in control. Always in control. Trust your subconscious mind to tell you what you need to know.”
She frowned as if she didn’t quite understand what he meant.
“I want you to think of yourself in front of a movie screen. It’s directly in front of you, but it’s blank. You’re relaxed, still safe, still very much in control. Whatever you recall will appear on the screen as if you’re watching a movie. It can’t hurt you, but you can stop it anytime you want. Do you want to continue?”
She nodded.
He prepared her by taking her back to various points in her life. She remained relaxed and responsive. Always in control.
“Sarah, tell me what you see on the screen now?”
“Blood,” she whispered. “I see blood.”
* * *
Lukas was fairly certain he was on a wild-goose chase. He’d been getting the same message on his voice mail for days. “Have you checked that old storm cellar yet?”
The voice was disguised, but he was pretty sure he knew who it was.
He might have continued to ignore those messages, but when he’d picked up the phone earlier, that same voice had said, “How long do you think someone can stay alive down there?”
As he turned onto the gravel lane, he tried to remember exactly where that cellar was. Fears had said it was by an old burned-out house. Lukas had a vague recollection of playing out there as a kid. The best he could remember, it was straight back from the cattle guard.
He pulled to the side of the road and got out, using his flashlight to guide him through the trees.