“Did you see it again?”
“I haven’t been down there since,” she said. “I saw it as clear as day and then while I was talking to you, it disappeared. It’s stuff like that. The dreams, the blood, everything… The rational part of my brain keeps telling me to leave before I lose what is left of it.”
“Then why stay?”
“Because I think this guy is close, Quinn,” she said. “I feel it somehow. I know he will return. Maybe now or maybe next year. But he is still here and I have to find him.”
She stopped talking and looked back out across the pond. The wind drifted across it again, blowing her hair back. Her hands clenched the marble bench.
“You have to promise to keep this secret,” she said.
“Of course,” Quinn replied.
“I shouldn’t have even told you.”
“I think it’s about time you told someone,” he said. “You’ve been bottling this up for too long.”
“I know,” she said. “And I’m not going to leave. Whatever is going to happen, it finishes now, here. I’m through waiting for him to jump out of the shadows.”
“Look, I want you to stay, but…” Quinn said. “What if you are right? If this guy is back, this is the last place you should be. Particularly if he figures out who you are. Every bit of research on him shows he is one for the follow-through.”
“That’s why you have to help me, Quinn,” she said and gripped his hand. “You have to help me find him first.”
The stranger watched the two figures talking near the bench. He couldn’t tell if they were arguing or not, but they were certainly animated.
He wished he could hear what they were saying. The stranger sighed. Still, he was glad he had followed them out, if only to know for sure there was something going on between the two. He wondered what it meant.
Quinn and Kate, sitting in a tree, not quite K-I-S-S-I-N-G, he thought. He idly wondered which one he should kill first.
Patience, his brain said. Not too soon. You have to take your time, hone your skills.
But it would be so easy, he thought. He could even take one right now.
Patience, that voice in his head said again. Not too quick or they’ll connect you. The police are dumb, but they aren’t that dumb. Don’t be sloppy. You’ve waited so long.
Kate seemed familiar to him, the stranger thought. She claimed to have never been here before, but there was this strange odor of familiarity to her. It seemed like something on the tip of his tongue-but he couldn’t think of it.
Had he known someone named Kate Tassel? He thought about it a moment. He did not think he did.
Breaking his line of sight with them, he moved back through the cemetery toward the grave where they had been standing. They had not been there long, but the stranger wanted to see. It might help him.
He found it and recognized the name immediately.
“Sarah Blakely,” he said out loud, just to hear it.
He clapped his hands to his mouth to keep a laugh from coming. No, he didn’t know a Kate. But he did know a Trina, didn’t he? Yes, yes he did.
Everything made sense now. Her familiarity — even as a child, she had been stunning to look at. And her outburst. He should have known it then. But the last name had thrown him.
It will take more than a last name to hide from me, the stranger thought.
She was little Trina-dear Trina-whose Mom thought about her even while she was being gutted. She called out her name so many times.
He moved back into the line of trees at the back and carefully worked his way to see the couple now standing near the bench.
I have old business with you, Trina, he thought.
He watched as the two walked out of the cemetery together. He noticed they were holding hands. Yes, he was very glad he had followed them.
And this so easily solved the question of whom he would kill first.
“See you soon, Trina,” he said out loud as they disappeared around the bend. “See you real soon.”
Chapter 10
Thursday, Oct. 12
About the only thing that made Madame Zora’s waiting room any different from a doctor’s was the faintest smell of lavender in the air, Kate thought.
It was painted off-white with magazines like People stacked neatly on tables next to moderately uncomfortable couches. And there was no sign of what Kate had expected-scented candles, beads or voodoo dolls-not even new age music.
Instead the place had more of a sterile quality.
She was surprised a little by the number of people there-she counted eight. Apparently a lot of people need a psychic healer, or an “alternative medicine guru” as she styled herself now.
Maybe the crowd should not have been surprising. Madame Zora was one of Loudoun’s oldest business owners and if her establishment did not have much respect (jokes about it were common), it had at least endured long enough to command a loyal clientele.
Kate shook her head. It wasn’t that she disbelieved in something beyond the material world, but this? A semi-doctor's office dedicated to the occult? She found it hard to accept.
But she dutifully scribbled something in her notebook. An article on Madame Zora-Loudoun’s most famous (and presumably only) psychic-was to be her contribution to the Halloween section. And though she hated the section, she would at least write a good article. It was a matter of professional pride.
“Kate Tassel?” a sprightly teenage girl with a ponytail asked as she came out of the door on the far wall. She too had the air of a nurse-or doctor’s assistant-clothed in a white coat.
Kate gathered her notebook and stood up.
“Madame Zora will see you now,” the girl said and gestured for Kate to follow.
Kate followed her in and they proceeded down a long hallway with several closed doors on either side.
“Have you ever been with us before?” the girl inquired.
Kate shook her head.
“Well, you are in for a treat,” the girl said and smiled broadly. “Madame Zora is the best in the business.”
Kate wryly wondered what “business” they were talking about.
She was escorted to a red door near what Kate assumed must be the back of the building. The girl knocked, smiled again, opened the door and walked quickly away.
Watching her go, Kate stepped through the doorway and was astounded at the change.
She took a deep breath. This is more like what she had expected.
Rows of creepy dolls lined two bookshelves in the back, all positioned in different ways. A dark maroon drapery hung across one wall and a door in the back was semi-hidden by columns of beads. In the center of the room sat a small round table covered in a gold tablecloth with a single lit candle on it. Two empty chairs sat on either side of the table.
Kate smelled the air-the candle was definitely lavender-scented. She waited for close to a minute before she heard a small hissing sound. The room started to fill with smoke. Kate stood up and started to back away.
“Reporter!” a voice called from above her head. “Stay where you are!”
With some reluctance, Kate sat back down and quietly turned on her tape recorder.
“You are about to meet Madame Zora-the most powerful psychic in the world!” the voice said, and Kate noticed it had a vaguely British accent to it. “Be not afraid to look directly at her, for your heart will be filled with peace and you shall know contentment.”
With that, a plume of smoke shot up in the center of the room and when it cleared there was a woman standing there, dressed in a brightly colored robe. She faced away from Kate.
“Why have you come?” Zora asked.
Kate coughed, waved away smoke from her face and tried to speak…
“I shall tell you why you have come,” the woman continued before Kate could say anything.
“You have come to test the great Zora. You have come to see if she is a fraud.”
“Actually, I…” Kate started.
“Silence!” Zora shouted. “I know your heart. I know your fears. I know all.”