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  She looked up at him and said, “Maybe you should take her home and look after her tonight.”

  He said, “If you know anybody who can help her—” He left it wide open for interpretation because, if Dr. Mica wasn’t prepared to say anything to him, she might not be prepared to get anybody in to help. Yet obviously they needed help of some kind.

  “Let me think about it,” she said quietly.

  He took a deep breath. “Okay.” Then he said, “Come on, Gabby. Let’s get you back to the apartment.”

  She nodded and stepped closer to him. He found he could do nothing else but wrap his arms around her and hold her close. Even as he walked her out of the doctor’s office, Damon turned to look at the strange cold spot in the office. And the doctor was staring at it in the same way that Damon was. He still couldn’t see a thing, but he was pretty damn sure she did.

  Chapter Seven

  Back in the vehicle Gabby sat here, shaking almost uncontrollably. She whispered, her teeth chattering, “Can we turn up the heat?” Damon did so immediately, until she was blasted by hot air, as he slowly drove through town and the snow back to the garage apartment. When she got out, she asked, “Are you okay if I stay here for the rest of the day?”

  “I told you that you’re fine here,” he said, bristling.

  She looked at him gratefully. “Thanks,” she said, and she raced up the stairs. She didn’t know if he would follow or not, but she needed to be alone. She needed time to think, time to sort through just what was going on in her world, and yet she knew that the more time she had, the fewer answers there would really be.

  When she entered the small studio suite, Damon came up the stairs behind her. She was torn between relief and the need to be alone. “I’m not good company,” she said, when he walked in.

  “Not expecting you to be,” he said, “but you need real food.”

  “I ate some tuna on crackers and those cookies that were here.”

  “They were probably ancient,” he said in disgust.

  “It was food,” she said, with a shrug. “I haven’t really bothered too much about quality lately.”

  “That may be, but I brought some fresh stuff.” He opened the fridge and started pulling out food.

  She noted how dark it was getting outside. “I’ve totally lost track of time,” she murmured.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t need to be keeping track.”

  “Well, you can’t just babysit me all the time,” she said.

  “Wasn’t planning on it,” he replied.

  She immediately headed for the chair by the corner window and pulled out a blanket and wrapped herself up in it. “What are you making?” she asked.

  “I figured an omelet,” he said, as he chopped onions and bacon, which he quickly popped into a frying pan and sautéed while she watched.

  “I don’t know if I can eat anything,” she confessed.

  “I know that,” he said, “but you’ll need to.”

  “What was Dr. Mica looking at?”

  He looked up at her and said, “You saw that too, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “I did, and it kind of freaked me out.”

  “Yeah, me too, but I’m not sure it was for the same reason.”

  “What was your reason?” she asked.

  “I’ve been to her and spoken with her many times,” he said. “So I already know who she is as a person, but her reaction today to some of what you had to say was a little different than I expected.”

  “Is that what you call it?” she said, turning to stare out the window.

  “But she’s not responsible for any of this,” he said, “so we track down the methodology for you to deal with the trauma that you’re dealing with. That’ll require a medical professional, while we’re still tracking down the killer.”

  “And yet,” she said, turning to look at him, “you’re right here, babysitting me.”

  “I am,” but he didn’t elaborate.

  “You think I’m a suspect, don’t you?” Her heart sank. “Oh, my God. Do you actually think I could do something like that to Tessa? To even think that you might have considered that for a single moment,” she said, “that’s just so incredibly wrong.”

  “You’re not a suspect, and I’m not sure that you’re in any danger,” he said.

  “Not sure?” she said, pouncing on the phrase.

  “No,” he said. “We’re not sure of anything at this moment. I’m trying to keep an eye on you to ensure that you get through this.”

  “Oh,” she said, as she sank back into her chair, uncertain what to say to that. “Have we found any evidence or anything to point to who it was?”

  “It’s an ongoing case,” he said. “I can’t talk about it.”

  “Maybe not,” she said, “but obviously something is going on, and you have some evidence.”

  “Is there?” he asked. “Because seriously, when you think about it, not a whole lot is out there.”

  “Forensics?”

  “It’s too early for anything to come back,” he said.

  She sagged in place. “Of course,” she said, “that would make life way too easy, wouldn’t it?”

  “We need to look at everybody. You want us to find the killer, don’t you?”

  “Of course,” she said, curling up tighter into a ball. “It’s just so hard to believe that anybody would have killed Tessa.”

  “I’m still looking at Tessa’s background, and I’m still trying to find a motive in my head that makes any sense. You must know more than I do about her life. So what did you do when you spent time with her?”

  “I’m not sure I ever really did,” she said, shaking her head. “It was more a case of spending time with Wendy, and Liz to a certain extent, but Tessa? No. It was more like she was here, and then she was gone more than she was here, the same as Betty. Because they must have been with their boyfriends all the time. I guess they were just not quite ready to move in and make that kind of commitment to each other.”

  “And that’s understandable.”

  “Sure, but it’s pretty hard to pay the rent in town here, but Tessa managed to get away from the tight living quarters because she had the boyfriend.”

  “Exactly,” he said, “whereas you and Wendy were here with a plan and a date and thought everything was moving in the direction you expected it to.”

  “And, boy, was I wrong,” she said. “I’m still not sure. She was talking to me about leaving and leaving soon, and then she pulls that about Meghan, so I don’t know if she’s thinking Meghan will leave with her or if she’s using that as an excuse to get away from Meghan. I really don’t understand,” she said. “I need to talk to her, and we did briefly on the phone earlier, but I haven’t heard from anybody else so far.”

  “Did you try to contact them?”

  “No,” she said quietly, “I haven’t.”

  “And they haven’t contacted you for probably the same reason.”

  “And what reason is that?”

  “You tell me,” he said, looking at her with that considering glance of his.

  She shrugged. “I didn’t reach out to Wendy because I don’t really know what to say.”

  “I get it,” he said. “What about the others?”

  “I’m not even sure I have their contact information,” she said. “I’m wasn’t kidding when I told you that we didn’t have much of anything to do with them.”

  “So, just five strangers rooming together for a winter?”

  “Pretty much, though I probably would have said that we were friends before all this, until you asked all these questions, and suddenly I wasn’t sure I knew anything about anybody.”

  “I think that’s fairly standard actually. Often you can get away with a certain level of social niceties that make you think that you actually know somebody, but you really don’t.”

  “So, did you check to see if anybody had a criminal record?” she asked. “Did you check where Tessa worked? Did
you check, you know, I don’t know. Her friend group?” she said. “She was really active and busy, so I imagine she had a wide social group.”

  “She did,” he said. “We’re still checking.”

  “Right, and of course the murder you described is just a little to the left of normal,” she said, “if any murder is normal.”

  “It’s very far to the left, if that’s what you want to call it,” he said. “And that’s another reason why we’re not necessarily looking at a woman.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because a tremendous amount of strength was required,” he said.

  “Oh,” she said, in a small voice, hating to even imagine what he said.

  “It is what it is,” he said, “but don’t worry, we’re on it.”

  “Yes, as long as there isn’t another one.”

  “Let’s hope not,” he said.

  She shivered.

  He called her over and said, “Come on. You have an omelet here to eat.”

  She got up slowly, walked over, and said, “I’m really not sure I can eat it.”

  “Remember that part about you needing to eat?”

  She sat down at the counter, and he placed a plate in front of her. “It looks really good,” she said in surprise.

  “I do like to cook,” he said, with a note of humor.

  “Maybe, but,” she started, “I’m really—”

  “Stop,” he cut in. “You need to eat. You need it for your strength, just in case more emotional shocks are coming your way. You need reserves in order to recover somehow.”

  Slowly she picked up her fork and cut a small bite and put it in her mouth. She gave a happy sigh. “It is really good.”

  “Exactly,” he said, “and that makes it easier to get a lot more food down. So eat, please.”

  She nodded, and, while she ate, his phone rang. He stepped away and answered it. She only heard part of the conversation, but it sounded like he was talking to another team member or somebody in forensics. When he finally hung up, she sat here, determined not to quiz him about the call. “Do you get to share that information?” she blurted out, despite her best intentions.

  “The only information so far is that there is nothing and nothing and more nothing. Forensics didn’t come up with anything meaningful. All the friends say they had no idea where Tessa was. Her boyfriend says that she was home that night and that he had just talked to her on the phone around dinnertime, when she was at work. They confirmed that she was only missing or not accounted for in those hours after work.”

  “And she could have been there,” she said, “but I didn’t wake up and hear her come home.”

  “And that’s where the problem is,” he said. “No cameras are in that building.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “I thought there was. That’s one of the reasons why we were supposed to pay so much money,” she said indignantly. “We were told the cost was higher because it was so well secured.”

  “The cameras were down,” he said.

  She stared at him in horror. “On purpose?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “We’re not there yet.”

  “Not there yet.” She shook her head and took another bite of the omelet. She swallowed and continued to shake her head.

  “When do you go back to work?” he asked.

  “Tomorrow,” she said, her voice shaky. “If I still have a job.”

  “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “My boss is superstitious. He brought me on because he thought I would bring in business. Then he told me to try anything that would bring in more business because the store was suffering. So I started the tarot stuff, and, as you know, that blew up in my face too.”

  He snorted. “You think? Whatever made you think of it in the first place?”

  “A pack of cards was just sitting there on the counter,” she said. “It had been something he had for sale, and the packaging was damaged. So I asked what he wanted to do with it, since it’s hard to sell stuff with damaged packaging. He just blew me off and walked away, muttering to himself. So I picked them up and decided I might as well put them to good use.”

  “So you had no ulterior motive or anything beyond that?”

  “No, not at all,” she said. “I had no clue that would start any of this.”

  “And yet when you gave these messages in the readings, they were just in jest?”

  “Well, what else would they be?” she asked, staring at him. “I get the idea that you think there could be something to all this stuff, but you don’t want to actually say so.”

  “I don’t know what there is,” he said, in a strange tone. “But several people followed your lead in the readings, and apparently you said certain events would happen, and they did.”

  “Sure, but I was just reading the cards,” she said. “And, besides, I pulled the Death card before I went snowboarding that day, and I didn’t die.”

  “But you almost did,” he said. “Surely that counts for something.” He grabbed his coat and said, “I’ve got to take off now.”

  “Okay,” she said, “I’ll be right here.”

  He gave her a hint of a smile. “Do that and stay safe.”

  Something about his tone when he said that though had her bolting to her feet. “So you do think I’m in danger?”

  He looked at her in surprise and said, “No, I don’t have any reason to believe that.”

  She frowned, then watched as he turned and left. Just what had that phone call been all about? Though he’d tried to cover it with a bit of conversation, he’d left pretty abruptly after the call. Too abruptly. With that, she realized that either he got a break in the case or something else happened that was connected to the case. She quickly snatched up her phone and then texted him. Has there been another victim?

  He texted back Yes.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, texting him again. Please tell me that it’s not one of my friends.

  I don’t know who it is, he typed, at least not yet.

  Please let me know, she wrote.

  But he didn’t answer.

  *

  The conversation hadn’t been an easy one, and Damon had hoped he would get out of there without Gabby realizing that they potentially had a break in the case. But not the one that they wanted. It was another victim, and, as he drove to the location, he wished the snow would let up, at least a little bit. He loved winter and all that it entailed, so living in Aspen meant they got more than their fair share than a lot of the country. Here lately, they were in an ugly lull of just plain old dark and stormy weather.

  As he arrived at the crime scene, his phone rang. It was Dr. Mica. “Dr. Mica, what, uh, what can I do for you?”

  “Are you distracted? Did I call at a bad time?”

  “I’m at a new case,” he said, “so potentially, yes. But if it’s quick—”

  “I’d like her to meet somebody,” she said abruptly.

  There was silence while he thought about that. “Who?”

  “Stefan Kronos,” she said.

  At that, he stilled. “The psychic?”

  She took a deep breath. “Yes. I know it’s very unorthodox, and it doesn’t fit with anything else but …”

  “I think it’s a good idea,” he said after a moment. “If he’s in town.”

  “He’s not, but that’s no problem. He’ll contact you.” Dr. Mica chuckled.

  “If he’s willing, then that would be great. But I don’t think Gabby should be alone during that.”

  “You’re very protective of her,” the doctor said quietly.

  “Yes,” he said. “Is that a problem?”

  “Not for me. I just don’t know if it is for you.” With that, she said, “I’ll call you back as soon as I have something arranged.”

  “Okay. I’m not certain when I can be available,” he said. “Like I said, I’ve just arrived at a new scene here.”

  “Fine, I’ll be in touch,” she said and hung up on him.

 
He had no idea yet what he would face at this new crime scene. As he got out of the vehicle, he pocketed his phone and walked up to Jake, who had a grim look on his face. “What’s up?”

  “Another one,” he said.

  “Another one what?”

  “Just like Tessa,” he said.

  Damon stopped and stared. “Are you serious?”

  “Very.”

  “The same methodology?”

  “Very same. She’s been butchered.”

  “Jesus.” The forensics team was in high gear, documenting all they could find. Damon moved carefully amid the scene and stopped where the sheet-covered body was. The coroner lifted the sheet for him to see underneath, and he stared in shock. “This one is even more violent,” he said in surprise.

  “I wondered that myself,” Jake said. “It’s kind of hard to separate where the violence starts and stops.”

  “It’s unbelievable,” he said. “There’s no rhyme or reason to it.”

  “I know, but, Jesus, we must stop this guy.”

  The coroner straightened to stand with Damon.

  Damon nodded his head in recognition. “Dr. Keto, how are you?”

  “I’d be a hell of a lot better if you’d stop bringing me these bodies,” he said. “You need to find this guy and find him fast.”

  “Yes, sir,” he nodded. “Believe me. I don’t want to see any more like this either.”

  “It’s pretty bad,” he said. “She suffered. It was over fast, but she still suffered.”

  “That’s motivation, if I didn’t have enough proof of that one already. I’m trying to envision who could even possibly do this,” he said. “Do you have any idea what was used to flay the chest open?”

  “At this point, I’ll say some kind of a sword,” he said. “I know that sounds strange, but it’s the only thing I can really think of. When I get back to the lab, we’ll compare the two victims. But it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense otherwise.”

 

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