The Vision

Page 50

Easier said than done.
And so she let her thoughts free.
Help me. Please. You said to beware, but of what?
Or of whom?
Please, don’t let me be responsible for Audrey’s death. You can help me.
Please…
At the police station, the desk sergeant spoke to Thor, then asked him to wait while he made a call.
Jay was apparently out on the street somewhere. Detective Suarez walked out to speak with Thor instead.
“The sergeant said you’ve spoken with Marshall Miro,” Suarez said.
“That’s right. He’s taking some personal time. He’s docked up on the Miami River. I’m assuming the property belongs to a friend, or maybe he owns it himself.”
“Well, there you go. Your friend and co-worker is fine.”
“Yes. I’m much more worried about Audrey.”
Suarez made a ticking sound of impatience. “She’s probably off somewhere having fun, too. But I’ll keep my eyes open. You know, your friend Victor was the last one seen with that hooker.”
Thor discovered he disliked Suarez. The “hooker”—even if they didn’t have an identity on her—deserved more in the way of respect.
“You questioned him,” he commented.
“Yeah, and I would have held him. But the shop owner refused to press charges.” He let out a strange sound of disgust. “These people—” he waved a hand, indicating exactly who, Thor wasn’t sure “—they’re like a closed group.”
“You’re not from here, I take it,” Thor murmured.
“Nope, not me. I’ve lived all over,” Suarez said.
Thor was glad he didn’t specify a place; he would have hated to harbor a grudge against a certain area just because of Suarez.
“Yep, your friend’s back out on the streets, so I’d beware,” Suarez went on.
Beware.
“I work with the man,” Thor said. “And you have no evidence against him, right?”
Suarez shrugged. “All I know is, this kind of thing has gone on before down here. That suggests the perp is someone who’s been around for a while, and that fits your friend.”
“That fits a lot of people here,” Thor said coolly. Hell, even if he thought beyond a doubt that Victor was guilty, he would have defended him against this guy.
“I came in to tell you we’re going back in the water tomorrow,” Thor said.
Suarez shrugged. “Try not to dig up any more bodies, huh?”
Was he trying to be humorous?
“Good evening, Detective,” Thor said.
More irritated than he had been already, he set out to see Sheridan.
Please…
She could sense it, smell the sea. Something different around her. Maybe just a charge in the air at first, a surge of energy…of electricity.
Help me, please.
The feeling that someone else was with her began to grow. She took a deep breath, then another. She wasn’t going to be afraid. She was going to make this work. She was going to stay with the ghost until…
She nearly rocketed off the sofa when she heard a hammering against her door.
The electricity was gone. There was no longer any sense of the sea, or of anything but emptiness surrounding her.
She swore, rising.
The hammering continued as she walked across the room to the door. She looked out through the peephole and saw Victor.
“Calm down,” she told him, throwing open the door.
He swept past her, ignoring her words.
“Those fucking detectives grilled me as if I were Ted Fucking Bundy!” he exploded at her.
“Victor, you can’t blame them. It’s their job.”
“They don’t have a real suspect. That’s why they’re going after me. I’ll sue. This is harassment.”
“Come on, Victor, they let you out,” she said.
“You!” he accused her.
“Me?”
“You just had to call Jay and tell him you and I put that mannequin in the garbage.”
“Victor, I had to. He would have spent hours investigating—”
“As if they’re not spending hours investigating right now, trying to prove I stole the damn thing,” he interrupted.
“Victor, do you want a drink? A soda or something?”
“Genevieve, I’m telling you, you don’t know what it was like.”
“Victor, I’m sorry, but quit acting like a two-yearold.”
“A two-year-old? You didn’t have to go through that.”
He was pacing so angrily that she kept her distance from him. She had to remind herself that she’d known him all her life.
“Women!” he exploded next. He pointed a finger at her. “Always trouble—always teasing, and the next thing you know, they want money!”
“Come on, Victor. You’re not the first guy to be taken in by a prostitute. And how can you still be angry? The poor woman is dead.”
He was still pacing, acting as if he hadn’t even heard her.
“Victor, stop it! I’m sorry, but under the circumstances, I did the right thing.”
Suddenly she found herself sorry she hadn’t gone with Thor.
How long before he returned?
A while, she thought, amazed to realize how nervous she felt.
It was suddenly as if Victor read her mind.
“Where’s loverboy?” he asked.
“Back any minute,” she said.
“Down with the cops, probably. Reminding them I’ve lived here all my life, so I could be guilty of anything.”
“Victor, damn it, I told you—”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re sorry.”
“Yes,” she snapped angrily. “And instead of feeling sorry for yourself, you should be worrying about Audrey.”
“Sure. Let’s all worry about poor Audrey.”
“You were the last one to see her, too,” she said without thinking, then practically gasped at her own foolishness in uttering the words.
He turned on her, furious, clenching his hands at his sides.
She’d never seen him so angry.
She was an idiot. She never should have opened the door to him.
“I should throttle you,” he said softly.
She froze for an instant, shocked into stillness by the menace in his voice.
How well did she really know him?
He’d been angry at the prostitute.
Had he been angry with Audrey?
He’d been the last to see both women.
Had he lied about the mannequin? She couldn’t help but remember the sight of all those plastic body parts.
She forced herself to remain calm.
“I’m getting a beer, and I’ll get you one, too,” she said. To her amazement, her voice was even. “Sit down. I’ll be right back.”
She had absolutely no intention of returning, of course. As she started toward the back of the house, she could still hear him pacing. She ran past the kitchen and out the back door.
19
S heridan, Thor thought, was the most boring academic ever to try to make a name for himself.
It was true that the second letter gave credence to everything Genevieve had said. It had been Aldo, remembered as the lover determined to defy anyone for the love of his Anne, who had planned vengeance against the English, the ship—and the woman who had spurned him.
Sheridan was still talking, but Thor barely heard him. His mind was elsewhere.
The discomfort he had been feeling was growing. If Sheridan didn’t shut up in sixty seconds, he was going to make up an excuse to bolt.
He didn’t have to.
His cell phone rang.
“Thor, it’s Brent Blackhawk. Where are you?”
“At Sheridan’s lab.”
There was a split second of silence. “Where’s Genevieve?”
“At her house.”
“She isn’t answering her phone.”
Thor’s stomach tightened in fear.
“Mr. Thompson, perhaps we could just finish up here?” Sheridan asked hesitantly.
“We are finished,” Thor said flatly, then turned on his heel and headed for the door, racing toward the parking lot while Brent continued speaking.
“I know you don’t believe in…all this,” Brent said, “but you need to get to the house. Find Genevieve. I’m on my way there now.”
“I’m almost in the car,” Thor said, sliding into the driver’s seat. His heart was pounding.
He knew before glancing to his right that he was not alone.
Josh Harrison had graduated from the back seat to the front.
“You’d better be here because you’re going to help me,” Thor snapped.
“She’s in danger—I know that,” the ghost said.
“And that’s it?”
“I know the killer is alive, but I don’t know his every move. I just know that…hell, step on it, will you?”
“Genevieve, what the hell?”
She was hiding in the midst of her hibiscus bushes when she heard Victor come out the back door.
“Genevieve? Where the hell are you?” he called. She heard him muttering, “Now she’s gone frigging nuts, too.”
She knew he couldn’t see her. Darkness was falling, and though it seemed to come slowly at first, she knew it would soon be night.
She bit her lip, wondering if she was being ridiculous. She loved Victor like a brother, but…
He had been with the prostitute.
He had been the one to walk Audrey home. And now Audrey was gone.
She stayed where she was. She wasn’t going back in the house. The killer was probably someone they didn’t even know, but still…
She felt ill and she didn’t believe Audrey had taken off of her own volition, not like Marshall.
She had to get to town, back to the resort, she decided. As long as she was in a crowd, nothing could happen to her.
She regretted running out of the house without her cell phone, but she wasn’t going back for it.