The Quickening Read online

  Tiffany blushed. “Is this a date?”

  “Isn’t it?” Kat asked. “I’m sitting across from a beautiful woman I want to spend more time with. But I am wondering how fair it is if you can read my thoughts and I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

  “I can only catch traces, but nothing definitive yet. We can get to know each other the old-fashioned way. We’ll talk, okay?”

  Kat smiled. “Fair enough.”

  “And I want to leave anything related to the paranormal out of the conversation for now.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to relax and just be in the moment. I’m tired of being on all the time. It’s not every day I get to eat lunch in the sunshine on the seventeenth floor of a condo that looks out over the bay.” Tiffany paused. “Across from a beautiful woman I want to spend more time with.”

  “Cheers,” Kat said and raised her glass. “It’s funny you said that.”

  “What?”

  “That you wanted to be in the moment. I was thinking the very same thing the other day. Life is going so fast, and the pressures of being on all the time is weighing on me. I miss the slower pace of the south.”

  “Oh? Where are you from?”

  “A small town in South Carolina.”

  “Really? You don’t have an accent.”

  “I worked hard to lose it, but it comes back pretty quickly if I’m talking with anyone from the south. Actually, I don’t know where I was born. I was adopted when I was a young child and that’s where my adoptive parents lived. Funny, when I was growing up I couldn’t wait to leave that place. Now that I’m older, I think about how wonderful it was.”

  “Did you ever look for your birth parents?”

  “I tried, when I was older. Even with all the resources available to me, I never did find a trace.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, I’m not. My parents were wonderful to me. No horror stories here. Are you from Seattle?”

  “How did you know?”

  Kat smiled. “You have an accent.”

  “No, I do not.”

  “To me you do.”

  “I was born in Burien.”

  “That’s just around the corner.”

  “But farther away from this than you can ever imagine,” Tiffany said softly and leaned back in her chair. “That was excellent, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Kat said. Apparently, that topic was off limits as well for now. She stood to clear the small table and Tiffany got up to help. “I have this. You can sit out here and relax.”

  “What time is it?”

  “I don’t know and that’s odd. I’m usually on such tight deadlines, I have almost every minute of my day planned out.”

  It wasn’t until she reached the kitchen that she realized during lunch and their conversation, she hadn’t seen Tiffany as Tanna.

  She didn’t know how to feel about that. Wasn’t it the point that Kat get her to recognize her and remember their past life?

  She wasn’t sure anymore.

  *

  “We have to get you out of the sun.”

  Tiffany opened her eyes. She had dozed off while Kat was in the kitchen. “I’m so sorry. How long was I out?”

  “Not long, but you’re turning pink. Let’s get you inside.”

  “Curse of a redhead,” Tiffany said. She tried to shrug it off, but was deeply embarrassed at falling asleep. “Where’s your restroom?”

  “Down the hall. The door’s open, you’ll see it.”

  “Thank you.” Tiffany took her black bag with her.

  She braided her windswept hair, and as an afterthought quickly touched up her makeup. She was tired of running, tired of hiding. Tired of being alone. At the very least she needed to know what was going on. Anything beyond that, well, she’d just have to play it by ear.

  Before she stepped out of the bathroom, the doorbell rang. She put her ear to the door.

  “Detective Parker,” Kat said.

  His voice was too low for Tiffany to hear. She hadn’t been aware that he was coming. But now that she thought about it, she did tell Kat last night they would work today. But she hadn’t reminded her or said anything about him showing up. Grateful for the nap that left her refreshed, she sat on the edge of the tub and took some time to say her special prayer for protection and guidance.

  When she felt prepared, she joined them in the living room. Kat jumped to her feet and looked apologetic. “He just showed up.” She glared at him. “Without calling first.”

  “I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” Detective Parker said. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I might stop in. I didn’t know you’d be here.” He was shuffling the glass of water with the files under his arm, and trying to free one of his hands.

  She hated touching strangers. Tiffany gave him her sweetest, most polite smile and sidestepped to discourage him from it.

  Detective Parker cleared his throat. “It’s nice to meet you. Kat forwarded your reading, and I was impressed.”

  “With details from a solved case?” Tiffany wasn’t mad, not really. She simply wanted him to know she knew.

  Parker looked almost chagrined. “I’ll apologize for that.”

  “You should,” Kat said. “We might as well sit at the table.” Kat looked at Tiffany. “Unless you want to sit in the living room?”

  “Table is fine. Detective Parker, I think the wrong man was convicted in the Joy Fisher case. The killer’s energy that I picked up is not from someone currently in jail.”

  His features hardened. “That case was solved on DNA evidence.”

  “I can only tell you what I see. You might want to look into that further.” Tiffany could tell from his expression he would do no such thing.

  Kat directed them to the dining table. “He wants to know if you can read two files for him. I told him it was entirely your choice.”

  “I was going to drop them off with Kat. But since we’re all here, would you mind? It could be very important to a crime that was committed recently.”

  “Don’t feel pressured,” Kat said.

  Tiffany noted her sarcastic tone, and smiled to herself. Apparently, she was upset at the change in plans as well. “I’ll do this for you, if it will help.”

  “Mind if I record this?” Detective Parker asked.

  “No, go ahead.”

  Detective Parker opened a large file. “How do you want to start this?”

  “Just slide it over, closed, please.” Tiffany closed her eyes for a moment. The energy off the file made her a little jittery, but she concentrated on the traces she could see in her mind’s eye before actually touching the contents. “I’m getting that this one was about five years ago.”

  “Why do you think that?” Detective Parker asked.

  “Because I feel like I’m pregnant, and for me that’s an indication, a marker of time. I was pregnant five years ago.” Tiffany rubbed her stomach. She loved and hated experiencing this feeling of pregnancy. She had loved being full of Angel, cherished her, but hated remembering Mark and his violent temper. She despised opening that door. She tried to concentrate on shutting him out of her reading. The victim was important here, and she wanted to make sure she kept her own fear and repulsion neutral. She refocused on the case at hand. Tiffany controlled the slight tremble in her hand as she placed it over the file in front of her. The violent energy attached to it nearly knocked her from her chair. She felt Kat place a hand between her shoulders to steady her.

  “Tiffany, are you okay?”

  “Oh my God,” she said and snatched her hand back. She looked at Parker. “Serial killer?”

  He nodded and kept his stern poker face intact.

  She exhaled slowly and touched it again, but not before psychically bracing herself.

  “These two victims were found together? No, wait—near each other, but at separate times. Please clarify.”

  “Yes. They were found in the same area.”

  “Thank you. Give me
a second. I have to separate them. It’s all jumbled together. Okay, let’s start with the young woman with short hair. It’s blond, light. She would have been wearing torn jeans, white shirt, and a leather jacket.”

  Parker leaned across the table, pulled out one photo, and placed it facedown in front of her. Tiffany flipped it over. “Yes, that’s her. Hard T—Terry, or Theresa.” Tiffany’s heart hurt. The face smiling back at her was impossibly young, sweet. It hurt to know that the girl’s life was cut so short. “Please clarify if she was at a convenience store when she was abducted, so I know it’s her energy that I’m following and not the other girl.”

  Parker blinked. “Yes.”

  “Thank you.” Tiffany closed her eyes. “Okay. I see her going in, and she goes straight to the counter. Um, cigarettes, red pack, Marlboros?” Tiffany paused. “I get the feeling someone’s watching, watching, watching. She has no clue he’s been following her. Hang on. I see a large sedan, but the windows are tinted, and it’s dark outside. She goes around the side of the store, away from the light, and he hits her. The abduction is over very fast. I hear screeching tires.” Tiffany opened her eyes. “Can I have a piece of paper?”

  “Of course,” Kat said. She handed Tiff a stack of plain white paper from the printer.

  Tiffany began to sketch an aerial view of the property. “These are trees. On this side, I see old machinery, like broken dozers, dirty yellow or orange construction equipment. On this side is the road, but you can hardly see it. It’s overgrown with weeds and blackberry bushes that are covering an old cyclone fence. And on this side, more trees. And here—” Tiffany drew a square on the paper. “This is an old abandoned house, gray maybe? Two stories high, broken and boarded up windows. The steps are rickety and falling apart.

  “He takes her there.” She tapped the paper with the pencil. “She’s struggling, but he’s too strong.” She paused for a drink of water, taking a moment to breathe past the building anxiety. Tiffany grabbed another piece of paper from the stack and then drew another, larger square. “This is the hall, living room, and the kitchen is back here.” She drew an X in a room she sketched off the back of the house. “They found her here. It’s either a covered porch or mudroom.”

  She looked up at Parker, but his reaction was still neutral. She was aware of Kat fidgeting in the chair next her. “Please clarify.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Please, go on.”

  Tiffany continued. “Which is it? Terry or Theresa?”

  “Theresa.”

  “Thank you. I see her. His bitch—he thinks of her as property. He feels very powerful here—like it’s his place—he feels he owns it. He knows the floor plan, and he’s comfortable in it. I can hear his voice. Hang on for a second.” She strained to hear.

  You should have fucking listened.

  Tiffany felt her heart flutter. There was something familiar about that voice. She saw a flash of blond hair a second before Mark’s face intruded into the reading and taunted her. Damn it. She ordered herself to put him back where he belonged. Working with these killers was bringing up memories of his sadistic behavior. No wonder he kept popping up in her mind. She had to work harder at separating her emotions from the victims she was trying to help. Her problems had no place here.

  “Are you okay?” Parker asked. “You’ve gone a little pale.”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” Tiffany took another drink of water to stall while she refocused on the task at hand.

  Kat shot Parker a dirty look. “Tiffany, didn’t you tell me that you don’t connect with the dark energies because it’s dangerous? What’s going on here?”

  Tiffany blinked and felt the blood drain from her face. “You’re right. I was so caught up that the killer drew me right in. It’s almost as if he’s aware I can see him and he’s bragging.” She fought the urge to shudder.

  “Should we stop?” Kat asked. “We can do this another time, with Shade when she’s feeling better.”

  Tiffany considered it and then dismissed the suggestion. I wanted to be tougher, right? Here was the time to prove it. “No, I can do this.” She realized that Kat was trying to protect her, and she filed the detail away to deal with later. She was done hiding behind anyone.

  Tiffany turned to Parker. “Shall we continue? He threw her on the floor. She’s gagged, and he ties her up. He hates Theresa. Her hair is all wrong, wrong color, wrong length—and it’s all her fault. His thoughts are all over the place. I’m having a hard time honing in, but I do get that he’s in a rage and ends up dragging her down the hall to the small room in the back.

  “He doesn’t keep her alive long. He does what he did to her. You, um…” Tiffany swallowed back bile as she witnessed the violent murder and was hit with the scent of blood. “You already know the other details. I’ll skip the replay and tell you I see the word liar cut into the skin of her stomach. He doesn’t think of her as human, not at all. It’s like a Christmas gift he didn’t want and then broke out of spite.”

  She pointed to the file. “There’s another energy coming in now, the other girl. Again, she’s young. She has long hair, dark blond, auburn maybe? She’s wearing a short plaid skirt, crop top. Can I have the next photo please?”

  Parker slid the picture across the table to her. “Are you getting her name?”

  “Soft H. Hailey, Harlow, Hanna? Please clarify.”

  “Hailey,” Parker said and ran a hand over his face.

  It was the first visible reaction Tiffany had seen from him yet. “Thank you. I feel led to go back to the details of her abduction. I see her making a call. She’s standing on the side of the road. It feels like she’s waiting for someone. She’s under a streetlight. She thinks she’s safe.

  “He’s watching her though. He’s been following her for several blocks. She sees a car approach, and the window rolls down. She doesn’t feel threatened. She thinks he’s cute, and therefore safe. God, I hate this part, when I know I can’t change anything. It’s like I want to yell at her to stop, to not get in the car. It’s a dark sedan, similar to one Theresa was thrown into. Hailey gets in the front of the car with him. I see her laughing, coyly almost, like she’s flirting a little bit. That’s giving me an indication she’s not feeling threatened in any way by this man. She’s very relaxed. But then he turns the car off the main road. She’s starting to get nervous, but he’s reassuring her.”

  Parker interrupted. “Can you see his face?

  Tiffany concentrated. “No, I can’t see him at all. I feel the presence of him in the car, but I can’t see his face. It’s blurry.” Tiffany went on. “She’s feeling scared now. The car is going faster. She tries the handle, but it’s locked. She’s begging him to let her out. He’s telling her to shut up, shut up. He hits her in the side of the head. She’s whimpering and trying to make herself small. Okay, he takes her to that same house.” Tiffany drew an X in her floor plan.

  “This room, the largest. It’s very cold, icy cold. Her face hurts where he struck her. He tells her if she’s quiet, and does what he wants, he’ll let her go. If she tries to run, he’ll find her and kill her. She’s crying, but very quietly.” Tiffany took a breath before continuing. “It’s incredibly sad, but she believes him, you know, that he’ll free her. He has total control of her. He’s tied her up, and he keeps petting her hair. He likes her long hair. He’s twisted. But we already know that. She didn’t die quickly. I feel as if she were alive for a while, a prisoner.”

  Tiffany cleared her throat. “When he leaves, after raping her, he ties and gags her, puts her in the closet, then closes the door. He’s very careful. I see him wiping surfaces—wearing those disposable blue gloves. So I feel he knows what he’s doing as far as hiding evidence. He’s obsessive about it. Bleach, I smell bleach.

  “I can hear her humming. Her mind is going—she’s here and not here. I can’t tell you how long he kept her. I can only tell you that when he takes her life, she doesn’t feel any more pain. And that’s what pissed him off. He wanted her pain and fea
r. When she becomes almost catatonic, he goes ballistic. He—he—uh.” Tiffany swallowed. “He ended up cutting her throat. Now I’m seeing flowers being brought in—by him. He leaves them by her body. He comes back often, makes this weird shrine to her. He hated her when she was alive, but now that she’s dead, she’s exonerated, saintly.”

  Tiffany stopped talking. “That’s the killer’s point of view again. I’m connected with him.”

  “I think we should stop,” Kat said. “You’ve done so much already.”

  “No, I’ll finish it. Stop fussing over me.” Tiffany realized she’d snapped at her and softened her tone. “I’m fine.”

  “If I haven’t said it before now, I appreciate what you’re doing and the effort that you’re putting into this,” Parker said.

  Kat pushed away from table and paced the room. She sat back down with a huff. She was clearly unhappy, but Tiffany tried to ignore her anxious energy. She didn’t have time to deal with Kat’s emotions as well as those coming from the reading. She could only handle so much at one time.

  “You’re welcome. I just hope that it helps you catch this bastard.”

  “Me too,” Parker said.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Tiffany said. “He’s going back outside. I can see his back, but I still can’t see his face. He’s walking out to the lot, then into the trees. There’s a piece of twisted metal there, and a stump that he sits on. He’s lighting a cigarette. Wait, he’s turning around.” Tiffany held her breath. “Damn it, I could swear he’s blocking me from seeing him. I’m sorry. He’s looking straight at me, but I can’t see his face.”

  Parker checked his notes. “Don’t be. I have more than I had before. So far, from what you told me, the killer has a medium build, light hair, dark four-door sedan, and you think he’s good-looking.”

  “Yes,” Tiffany said. “He doesn’t look like a killer. I know people always say that, but when that girl got in the car, she wasn’t threatened. She was flirting.”

  Kat jumped in. “Then he has to be young, like the victim, eighteen to twenty-five maybe? Handsome, attractive to a young girl. He’s dangerous, but fits in. He revels in the humiliation and control of his victims.”