“I don’t know,” she said, “but you know how rumors are.”
“We don’t have anything back from the coroner yet, confirming any such thing. Besides, there were two of them, and I’m not sure he would have raped both.”
“No, that’s true,” she answered thoughtfully. “I just assumed, in a case like that, he would have just knocked one of them out.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple,” Kate noted, “but, if you think of anything else, let me know, please.”
After getting off the phone, she turned and looked at Simon. “Do people just assume details in cases like this or just make shit up?”
“I think their imaginations go wild, and misinformation runs rampant,” he replied. “Nobody really wants to get the right information. They just want to get details they can pass on to others.”
“It’s a sad world.”
“We’ve already been over that a couple times,” he noted, a laugh in his voice, “because, indeed, it is. At the same time, it’s fairly common that they only hear little bits and pieces, and they add to it until they get a whole story. If you guys haven’t released any details about sexual assault, then it’ll just be whatever assumption people can make because the victims were females. It’s almost automatic to think that the women were knocked out in order to become sexual assault victims.”
“Interesting world,” Kate murmured, “because—of course, in this case—there wouldn’t have been time. And I don’t think that was his interest anyway.”
“No, I don’t think so either,” Simon agreed. “This was too deliberate. I just don’t know if it was deliberate to take out two, deliberate to take out those two specifically, or just deliberate to try out a methodology.”
“None of which makes me feel any better at all,” Kate noted.
“Nope, I’m sure it doesn’t.” He chuckled. “Now, can we finally go enjoy a stroll along the beach?”
She nodded, reached out her hand, and together the two of them walked the beach. She looked at the sand, smiled. “I feel like walking barefoot.” And that’s what she did. Socks and shoes off, she headed to the water’s edge, only to find Simon beside her, with his pant legs rolled up.
She laughed. “You know, when you get to this point in time, a barefoot walk on the beach can sure make a shitty day end up better.”
“That it does,” he replied. “That it does.”
*
Simon and Katehad spent the first part of their evening together at her place, then ended up back at his. As he watched her leave, he was sad, but, at the same time, at least they’d had hours together this time. He stared at his bedroom, not wanting to go to sleep, even though he knew he needed to. Tomorrow was a busy day for him, and his lack of sleep was starting to affect his energy level.
At some point in time, he would have to beat this dragon called nightmares. But it all seemed to be connected to the visions, so he wasn’t sure how to make that happen. He could dull his sleep with some drinks, and he did want a whiskey before bed, but that wasn’t enough to knock back all the visions as they came through. As he had learned recently, the booze just delayed the visions.
He showered, stripped his bed, and made it back up with fresh bedding, then curled up and crashed almost immediately. When he woke a little later, he found himself wandering around in the dark. He stopped and stared, wondering what the hell was going on. He walked himself back to the bed, got back in, and sat here for a long moment, a little more unnerved than he’d thought. “Since when is sleepwalking part of my world?” And did it mean more visions? Less? Or foreshadowing of something else?
And that brought up an element that he really didn’t like. Determined to not let it happen again, he did drift off to sleep, but, when he woke up the next time, he was getting out of bed.
“Oh no, hell no,” he said out loud. “If this is a vision, it needs to stop. I’m not walking around my place in the nude in the dark without any idea why. So, whatever the hell this is, knock it the hell off.”
And then realized it wasn’t his bedroom he saw.
He frowned. “Whoa, whoa.” The walls were blue, the curtains closed. There was a great big bed and a fluffy duvet. He stared down at his body and saw long legs. A female’s body, just the lower part. Immediately the thought kicked into his head that they were legs built for running.
The woman quickly dressed, while he tried to disassociate from the vision. Yet it was happening so fast that he didn’t understand. She got into running shoes at the doorway. When a man called out from the bed, she hesitated, and he whispered, “Please.”
She sank back down onto the bed beside the man and kissed him on the forehead. That immediately snapped Simon back into his own vision. “Good Lord,” he moaned, “like I need see that.”
But, at the same time, he had to wonder. She was about to head out on a run and stopped. Somehow that seemedimportant. He just didn’t know what it meant and what the importance of that stopping meant too. Was she meant to be a victim and then didn’t become one because she changed her mind? And, if that were the case, why the hell was Simon even connecting with her?
Dissatisfied with it all, and unnerved by the change in the vision, he tried once again to go to sleep. This time he zoned out, until bright light streamed through his bedroom window. He woke up with a start and realized he was late. He swore, got dressed, and raced out of the penthouse. This had to stop. If he could just gain some control over his visions, his daytime would be a hell of a lot more manageable because he would get some sleep at night.
Something he rather desperately needed at this point in time was some way to make that all happen. He really needed to take control of that area of his life—before something else went crazy and things really went wrong. Something he didn’t need in the least.
Chapter 4
Monday Morning