“Who’s there?” she cried out. “Who’s there?” she screamed. “Go away. Go away.” And then she burst into tears yet again.
He closed his eyes, and thankfully he slowly withdrew from the scenario. And again it wasn’t by his own hand. If it had been by his hand, he’d be a happy person because he could control something, but it wasn’t his to control. The vision just shifted and changed, and it wasn’t the same mixture of grays anymore.
Instead he was staring out at the city around him, studying all that was going on. Yet, at the same time, all he could sense was the deep, dark sadness inside her. Whatever it was, it terrified her, whether it was his voice or somebody else’s, he didn’t know, but the thought of her being a victim, hidden in the dark somewhere, incapable of getting out, was breaking his heart.
And just when he thought that it couldn’t get any weirder, he heard that bicycle again, just the sound of the wheels turning and turning, again and again. Was she using it for stress relief? Was it even her? That was another thing that got him. What if,… what if the bike sound was not related to her at all? Maybe it was somebody else out there in this weird, wonderful world he had opened up in his mind.
Wonderful? Right. He was being facetious about that. He groaned and whispered, “If I can’t help, I don’t want any of this.”
And then the thought slammed into his head.It’s happening, and, therefore, you need to help.
“What are you talking about?” A part of him suddenly understood these people were coming to him because he could help. And, with that stunned realization, he turned to face the living room. “But, if I’m supposed to help, how? What is it I’m supposed to do?”
Silence was his only answer.
Chapter 18
Kate woke inthe middle of the early morning hours and lay here, disappointed that she was alone. She’d heard Simon get up and leave, but she’d been so exhausted that she hadn’t murmured a dissent. She just knew that he was up; sensing something going on around her, she’d come awake, but, realizing it was him, she had let him go. But now she lay here, wondering what was wrong. Frowning, she reached for her phone, ignoring the time, and texted him.What’s the matter?
She immediately got a question mark back.
I woke up, and all I can think of is something’s wrong. And you’re the first person who came to mind.Her phone rang.
“I don’t know.” His voice was distracted, worried. “Something’s happening with me, and I haven’t really been telling you about it. It’s just getting to me.”
“You’re talking about that weird sense of smell and all that?”
“Yes. And sometimes I get this sense of wheels turning.”
“Wheels turning?” she asked, confused, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Yeah, like somebody’s on a bike.”
She pushed her pillows together and sat up and leaned against the headboard. “No, you haven’t told me about that.” Damn it, why did it have to involve bikes?
“She’s crying. Often she’s just crying, bawling her eyes out. Tonight she spoke. She asked, ‘Why me?’”
“Spoke? Did you see anything?”
“Nothing, absolutely nothing, just shadows.”
“You think she’s a prisoner?”
“Of course that’s what instinctively comes to mind, but I really don’t know.”
“Hmm.” She didn’t know what to say to that. To any of it. On the surface there wasn’t much to go on.
“I know. I’m nuts.”
“No,” she said immediately, “not nuts. But you do have a track record that makes me wonder what this is all about.”
“Oh, I have a track record now,” he said with sarcasm. “Funny, that’s not quite what you were saying to me the other day.”
“You know I struggle with this,” she admitted, “but it’s obviously bothering you, so, if there are any answers that we can come up with, then we need to.”
“Great idea.” And there was that tone again. “You think I haven’t been trying?”
“I know you have. Like me working my cases, huh?”