“Fear not my beautiful Princess, for I have come over the far-lands, to save you. I will smite this dastardly dragon with my mighty sword and keep him from devouring you, your pony, and the villagers.” Kelsey hoped she sounded like a tall, dashing, and brave prince. The looks on the little girls’ faces and those on the faces of the parents in front of her told her she had done a satisfactory job. The author’s hand that gently squeezed her thigh made her head swim with confusion and desire. The warm hand was the first touch Kelsey had felt from Miranda in weeks, and it reminded her, all too well, of the attraction she felt for the woman sitting next to her.

  The author didn’t seem to notice the effect her touch had on Kelsey and continued telling the story. “Then Princess Fiona knew her wish came true; she and her kingdom would be spared. The prince roared a challenge to the dragon.”

  Tapping the page indicated Kelsey would resume reading the prince’s part.

  “Dragon, it is I, Prince Gregor from the land of MacGregor and I have come to slay you with my sword. Come down here and meet your fate,” Kelsey said as if she truly was calling down a mighty dragon from the heavens. “What manner of man, prince or pauper do you imagine you are? Prince Gregor is no man, I fear.” Kelsey roared in the loud, threatening voice of the dragon, needing no prompt from the author.

  Miranda softly chuckled in approval before she read some narrations describing the scene where the princess hid behind a tree and the dragon advanced on the brave prince.

  Kelsey was so caught up in the tension and excitement; she didn’t realize she had put her arm around the author’s body to draw closer to see the story, not until her body infused with heat. The earlier confusion and doubt were swept away by the feelings, holding Miranda close evoked.

  The story played out with her and the author reading their parts, making the audience gasp and squeal with excitement, right along with the little girl next to them. Before she realized, the story came to an end.

  “You hafta kiss her now,” Fiona whispered as she poked Kelsey in the ribs.

  Kelsey looked into the beautiful gray-blue eyes and softly said, “Yes, but the prince kisses Princess Fiona.” Kelsey tore her eyes away from the beseeching look she found in Miranda’s eyes and spun around. Scooping up her little niece into her arms and planting a big kiss on her tiny cheek, Kelsey said, “My lady, my love, I’m yours forever.”

  Fiona squealed with delight, and the whole crowd cheered their approval of the ending. Kelsey felt disappointment engulf her, knowing she had no excuse to be near Miranda and she had wanted to kiss her so badly. The hand on her shoulder told her the author didn’t want to escape her presence, but the earlier ease Kelsey felt had vanished.

  Instantly engulfed by a mob of little girls and their mothers, Kelsey looked for a way to leave but got caught up in the excitement of the moment. Fiona beamed with pride over the book she held; the smile on her cherub-like face was contagious.

  Kelsey held Fiona on her lap and smiled as a few of the little girls asked if she would be their prince. Most of the guests at the party were women and girls all dressed as princesses. Being only one of four dressed as a prince, she did stand out as the only one who wasn’t someone’s parent.

  Kelsey swore that a few of the mothers winked at her, but couldn’t be sure as the crowd closed in on them.

  One woman came up and asked Miranda if she could talk to her about possibly doing a party for her son. That spurred a discussion about the author doing more children’s parties. Lynn saved the day when she called out it was cake and present time; the crowd began to disperse.

  Kelsey knew the requests were overwhelming for the author, but Miranda politely sat listening and not commenting, just nodding her head.

  Little Fiona screeched in delight and squirmed off of her lap.

  Left alone with the petite woman, who kept her hand on Kelsey’s shoulder well after it was necessary, made Kelsey imagine just for a moment they were a couple.

  Dropping her head, she closed her eyes and shuffled her feet; they were no more a couple now than they were weeks ago. Kelsey’s attempt to draw away was met with resistance, as the author’s hand held tight.

  Miranda leaned in closer to Kelsey so that her breath tickled her neck. “That was a very fitting ending. You’re a natural at this storytelling; you should think about coming with me when I do readings, the children love you.”

  The effects of Miranda’s breath on Kelsey’s skin made her moan inwardly, Kelsey sensed that her emotions would take over if she weren’t careful.“I only read the words; you’re a fabulous author. Writing this story for Fiona was the best gift you could have given her, I…”No, you can’t say that. Kelsey stopped herself from saying something that would ruin the moment.

  Thinking of reading other words, Miranda wrote under her pseudonym; Kelsey almost choked on saliva when images and emotions were conjured up by those remembered erotic words.

  Kelsey pushed down the emotions before they besieged her, I can’t let her get to me, she told me to leave her alone. Gritting her teeth, Kelsey winced when the author’s breath caressed her ear again. Please, she pleaded silently. Closing her eyes, Kelsey wished to be any place but here, being tortured by imagery and memories.

  “Why thank you, Agent MacGregor but you’re too modest, you’re a talented woman as well. I told Fiona I’d write her one; it came to me one day when I thought of you; you were my brave prince.” Miranda’s warm breath tickled Kelsey’s neck as she spoke.

  Kelsey shrugged off the hand on her shoulder, closed her eyes tightly, and shook her head.

  Crossing her arms, over her chest, Kelsey stood up and turned to face Miranda. Snapshots of the day on the roof bombarded her: tears falling down those lovely cheeks, Kelsey had kissed, lips, she had kissed trembled in fear, and blood spattered on a white t-shirt. How Miranda could think of her as her brave prince was beyond Kelsey’s scope of understanding. “Are you thinking about writing customized storybooks and doing birthday parties?” Kelsey asked the random question that popped into her head because she didn't dare ask what she wanted to know: why was Miranda so coy with her? Why didn’t Miranda treat her like someone who wanted nothing to do with her as she had written in her text?

  A myriad of emotions played in Miranda’s eyes, and Kelsey’s head suddenly filled with them.

  Running a hand through her hair and frowning, Miranda bit down on her lip before she said quietly, “I haven’t given it much thought. It was meant to be a special gift, not an idea for a new business. I…um…” The words trailed off.

  Hurt, confusion, and disappointment swirled around inside of Kelsey, but they were not her own emotions; she empathetically received them from the visibly shaken woman in front of her.

  Attempting to block them out as well as the thoughts that assaulted her mind, Kelsey turned away and took several breaths. “I better go get Fiona’s gift; I left it in the house. Thanks again for writing the book”, Kelsey called over her shoulder as she walked away.

  Kelsey didn’t stop walking until she was inside the kitchen, as far away from Miranda as she could get without running from the house entirely. I can’t deal with this right now. I’ll avoid her as long as I can. Kelsey knew this was not a very mature way to behave, but she wasn’t capable of doing anything else, at that moment.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Early Morning, October 30, 2011

  Waking in a cold sweat, Kelsey felt her heart beating out of her chest; she attempted to catch her breath. The nightmare she usually had, changed and instead of her shooting Sara, Sara pulled Miranda over the edge of the roof with her. The author looked at her and said, ‘I hate you, you killed me because you couldn’t control your emotions.’

  Guilt-ridden, Kelsey tried to remember anything else but that nightmare.

  Her night was filled with jumbled visions of a man in the shadows watching a woman walking into her apartment building. This man viewed the woman through the curtains on her window.

  Kelsey could feel his excitement, the lust for dominance, every nuance of what he wanted to do to this woman was so vivid. It felt as though Kelsey was inside of this man, or she was him; everything he thought and experienced, she experienced and thought. These powerful visions were something new for her. The dreams then changed with images of a dying woman filled with terror. Kelsey saw no faces, but she was the man watching and then she was the woman the man observed as she died.

  Mixed up with these disturbing visions or nightmares, Kelsey also had ones that were not as terrifying but no less disruptive.

  Memories of kissing and making love to Miranda got mixed up with erotic fantasies of things she thought about after reading the stories the author wrote with her pseudonym Randi G. The images were graphic, and the sounds evoked emotions, the sensations lingered in Kelsey’s body. Were they dreams or were they fantasies? Had they been Miranda’s or were they hers alone?

  Nothing made sense to Kelsey but she tried to wade through the memories of dreams, nightmares, possible fantasies, and flashbacks to piece together what her subconscious attempted to tell her.

  Knowing it wasn’t her subconscious but her guilt and her gift pulling her in multiple directions, Kelsey weeded out anything having to do with the author. Staring at the ceiling wasn’t helping so she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the images of the man.

  Kelsey’s recollection returned to the previous day’s events instead and how she had not only escaped talking to Nanna but also Miranda. The party ended with the Birthday-girl falling asleep, after presents and cake, and the guests departed. Both Nanna and Miranda begged off early, telling everyone they were exhausted and retired to their beds.

  Kelsey stayed up later to help her brother and sister-in-law clean up the garden after the partygoers had all left. When she finally went to bed, Kelsey had difficulty falling asleep; her head filled with unanswered questions, disturbing revelations, and even more perplexing glances from the petite author.

  Several times during the day, Kelsey found herself watching the little girls playing and recalling other birthday parties in the past. Those parties were before Aisling died, when Kelsey still enjoyed celebrating the day of her birth; when life was still worth cherishing. Kelsey swore that when she caught herself reminiscing, Miranda looked at her with compassion. The author may feel pity or sympathy, but those were the extent of her feelings for her; Miranda made that abundantly clear when she told Kelsey to leave her alone.

  At times Kelsey thought Miranda smiled at her, but unable to believe it was true, Kelsey shut Miranda and her smiles out.

  Shaking her head, Kelsey knew this wasn’t getting her anywhere, memories of things she hoped would be or thought could, wouldn’t help her unravel the mess of her subconscious and visions.

  Concentrate Kelsey.

  An image did come back: the man was watching an apartment. What apartment would help, but all she could recall of her vision had been a darkly lit apartment building. The man stood in the shadows of a burnt out streetlight, there was a sign on the pole, but the image was fuzzy. Kelsey grabbed her phone off of the night table and hit Nikki’s contact icon.

  Not waiting for her Nikki to say hello, Kelsey rushed to tell Nikki about her visions while they were still fresh in her mind. “He’s stalking another woman. We have to hurry to find out who he is.”

  “What…is that you Mack? It’s only six in the morning. What are you trying to tell me? Who is stalking who?”

  “Sorry Nikki, I just woke up.” Not wanting to explain she had in fact been awake for an hour or so, Kelsey tried to justify calling so early. I had my first vision about this case; I saw a man watching a woman walk into her apartment. I saw inside the apartment and felt both the thrill of the man stalking her and this woman’s fear. I also saw a woman dying; I hope we’re not too late.”

  “A man watching a woman and a woman dying…it’s early in the morning and before my first cup, but let’s see if I have this right. You are at your grandmother’s house for less than twenty-four hours, and you have already had a theory and visions about this case; I should have called Nanna sooner.”

  “Very funny, but I need you to be serious; I need you to send me everything we have on the witnesses’ statements and the sketch-artists’ drawings of the men on those nights. I think we’re missing something, but I won’t know what until I can review everything again.”

  “Sure, that won’t be a problem but what do you hope to find you didn’t get the first dozen times you analyzed them? Do you know if these visions are of things that have happened or will happen?”

  “I can’t explain it. Last night in my visions this man was thinking about what he wanted to do to this woman. They were violent images, but I felt like he’s done it before as if he’s not just thinking about what he wants to do to this woman, but what he has done to others. The images could be of his memories, or they could be something that hasn’t happened yet. I could feel the woman dying Nikki, it was horrible.”

  “Oh Mack, that must be awful for you. You have no control over what you see. You say you saw this man; is it possible that we have it wrong? Is it possible we’re looking for one Unsub and not several men?”

  “I can’t say for sure, all I have are my visions, and although they give me insight into a possible Unsub, they’re not proof of anything. We need to find something that can justify my theory; I can’t just say: I saw it in a dream and had a strong feeling we’re looking for one man. Maybe I’ll talk to Nanna about my visions to see if she can shed some light on what I saw.” Kelsey knew that visions were not always of things that will happen, but what have and could occur.

  “I just emailed the entire file; you should get it shortly,” Nikki said.

  “Great, I’ll print the file so I can have a good look at everything.”

  “So, talking to Nanna has helped you. You sound like you’re in a better mood than you did yesterday.”

  “No, we haven’t had a full conversation yet; I’m dreading that almost as much as I’m…” Kelsey stopped before she said the author’s name.

  “What could have you more apprehensive than talking to your grandmother?”

  Kelsey wasn’t sure she wanted to tell her best friend that Miranda Gauthier was likely sleeping only feet away from her in the adjoining room. Nikki had pushed her to see the author for nearly two weeks after the incident on the roof in Baltimore. Then Nikki stopped talking about Miranda or mentioning her to Kelsey.

  Before Kelsey lost her nerve, she blurted out what scared her more than a lengthy discussion with her grandmother. “Miranda wrote a book for Fiona’s birthday, came here for the party, to read it, and now she is staying here in Nanna’s house.”

  Silence drug out for several minutes following her revelation. Worried she lost her connection, Kelsey queried, “Nikki…?”

  “Your grandmother had this all planned,” Nikki said, giggling.

  Kelsey considered Nikki’s comment for a moment, “But how…?”

  Nanna had the gift of Second Sight, and unlike Kelsey’s visions, her nonagenarian grandmother’s saw things more clearly. Nanna had seen Kelsey spiraling emotions, the drinking, everything in her visions. Nanna had understood what Kelsey needed and had convinced Miranda to come here so they could talk, Nanna even knew Nikki would call for help when she thought Kelsey would need it the most. “You’re right; Nanna had this planned all along.”

  “Yep, that is why when I called she told me not to worry that everything would be all right when you came home.” Nikki chuckled, then it turned into hearty laughter.

  “I’m glad you think this is funny —” More laughter roared through the phone, cutting off any further whining on Kelsey’s part.

  Nikki apparently wasn’t about to feel any empathy for her plight.

  Kelsey growled, “I’m going to hang up if all you’re going to do is laugh at me.”

  “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you but at the situation; for seven weeks you did all you could to avoid the one woman who could help you, and you ended up right there with her.” Nikki’s voice went serious as she said, “Miranda does care about you.”

  Kelsey couldn’t imagine how Nikki could say that Miranda cared for her. “How could you possibly make that inference? Let’s talk about the facts: Miranda never answered one of my calls, and when I texted her, she never texts back until ten days ago, when she told me to leave her alone.”

  “Wait, she did text you back, and she wanted you to leave her alone —”

  Kelsey cut off the rest of the comment to continue her summation of the facts. “Miranda had over seven weeks, and she didn’t once call me, ask about my welfare, or text me. When I tried, she never answered back until she told me to leave her alone. I think it’s pretty clear she hasn’t had deep feelings for me.”

  “When exactly was this?”

  Kelsey recalled the exact day and time; it was the night she ran to Race and the day before the colossal confrontation with Nikki. “The night before…the day Emily died, and the DRB finished up their review; I needed to hear her voice so badly.”

  “I tried to tell you that you needed to go see her, not talk to her over the phone or text her. Have you even spoken to her at all, how did she seem? Maybe she was upset, and you took the text out of context, maybe you woke her? There could be any number of reasons why Miranda told you to leave her alone.”

  Kelsey thought about Nikki’s theory, could she have it all wrong? “I can’t go back and change things. We talked briefly yesterday; there wasn’t a time we could be alone.” Kelsey didn’t explain that if she had wanted to, they could have had time to talk. “She did thank me for the flowers —”

  Nikki’s exclamation interrupted her, “What flowers? I thought you didn’t know she’d be there…okay, did you a vision?.”

  Kelsey didn’t quite understand it herself. She’d undoubtedly had a premonition of Miranda’s presence at Nanna’s house before buying the flowers, but denial confused things. “I’m not sure what possessed me to buy them. One minute I was walking out of the hotel and the next I had a bouquet of Miranda’s favorite colored lilies on my lap.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28