Dead of Night (Page 48)

The old house was cold and drafty, but sweat poured down the side of Sean’s face. His hands were clammy, and he wiped first one then the other on his jeans so as not to lose his grip on the pistol.

He heard a very faint rustling above him. A rat possibly. Or maybe something else.

Sean moved across the sagging floor and opened the door to the narrow stairwell. It was pitch-black inside.

Shit.

He’d be a sitting duck once he entered.

But up the steps he went, easing the door open at the top, edging around the corner, using his flashlight now to slash through the darkness.

The room was empty except for the wardrobe, and he didn’t think a grown man could fit inside. But as he turned, he noticed that the mirrored door sagged open.

Sean lifted his gun and quickly moved across the room. Standing to the side, he used his foot to fling the door open, then flashed the light inside.

A panicked rat scrambled over the edge. In the split second Sean had let his guard down, he realized his mistake. As the wardrobe door swung closed, he caught a glimpse of someone behind him in the mirror. And this time it was real. As silent as a damn ghost, the killer had followed him up the stairs.

All this went through Sean’s mind in the second it took him to whirl. But even that was too much time. Taser darts caught him in the shoulder, and fifty thousand volts of electricity pulsed through his system. He felt as if someone had taken a hammer to his spine. His whole body tensed and cramped and went completely rigid. Shoulders hunched to his ears, arms frozen at his sides, he fell with a hard crash to the floor.

A voice said from the darkness, “Don’t kill him yet. We need her gun first.”

Footsteps moved toward him.

A face peered down at him.

Sean felt a flicker of recognition the instant before a gun handle crashed against his skull.

* * *

Sarah hoped that she could remember the way. It had still been daylight when Lukas Clay had brought her out here earlier, and now darkness and panic made everything look different.

The isolation of the country road seemed strange and surreal, like she’d wandered off into a dreamworld. Panic still tightened her chest, but now that she’d formulated a plan, now that she knew Michael was on his way, she felt somewhat calmer.

She came to the dead end and slowed to a crawl as she crossed the cattle guard. Another ten minutes and her headlights picked out the clearing just ahead.

The house was dark and the driveway was empty. That was good. Just what she’d been counting on. She pulled to a stop, leaving the motor running and the headlights on as she grabbed the flashlight and got out.

Earlier, Lukas and the driver had unloaded the lumber into an old barn. Sarah walked toward it now, checking the firmness of the ground to make sure the car wouldn’t get stuck. Then she pulled around back and parked. Anyone coming up the road wouldn’t see the car, but she’d be able to spot their headlights. She might even be able to get away before they stopped her.

Stuffing the flashlight in her bag along with the gun and her cell phone, she got back out and crossed the darkened yard. She pulled back the screen door and stepped onto the porch, hoping to find a spare key under a floor mat or flower pot.

No such luck.

She trudged around the house. The back porch had been demolished and the door was several feet off the ground. Sarah dragged over a sawhorse, and balancing herself on the beam, checked the door. Making sure the safety was on, she used the handle of the gun to smash out one of the glass panes in the door. Then she reached inside and released the lock.

Drawing all the blinds in the living room, she turned off her flashlight and curled up on the couch to wait for Michael’s call.

* * *

Michael pulled into the driveway and cut the headlights. He’d called twice for directions and a third time from the gravel road to make sure he’d made the right turn. Sarah had offered to drive down to the end of the lane and wait for him, but he’d assured her that he’d eventually make his way to her.

And now here he was.

She came out to meet him and, even in the dark, he could see that she was exhausted.

She aimed the beam of her flashlight toward an old barn. “Pull around behind if you don’t mind. You’ll see my car back there.”

After he’d parked and rejoined her, he said, “Where are we?”

“In the middle of nowhere.”

“Yes, I can see that. I mean, whose house is this?”

“Would it make you feel better if I lied and said it belonged to a friend of mine?”

“In other words, we’re trespassing.” Not the greatest of conditions for the kind of deep relaxation he would need to induce in order to put her under.

“It’s safe, though. No one knows we’re here, and we’ll be gone in a few hours. I’m anxious to get started,” she said as they climbed the porch steps. “I took a Xanax earlier. It shouldn’t be that hard to put me under.”

“It’s not always that easy,” Michael said, following her inside. “You’re dealing with a great deal of stress, and hypnosis requires concentration and deep relaxation. And you need to remember that it may not give you the answers you’re looking for.”

“Meaning, I won’t be able to remember or I may not like what I remember?” They settled in the living room.

“Either or both. As I’ve told you before, tapping into the subconscious can produce unexpected consequences. Ideally, I would take several sessions to prepare you.”

“Well, we don’t have several sessions, we have right now, right here,” Sarah said. She sat back and folded her arms. “Let me ask you something. Do you believe I killed my sister, my father, all those other people?”

He answered honestly. “No, I don’t believe that. I’ve never had the sense that you’re a danger to yourself or to anyone else.”

“But someone is trying to make it seem as if I am. That’s why everything is connected to me. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that Rachel’s murder is the key. Whatever happened that night, whatever I saw, has set all this in motion. And if I don’t remember, I’ll remain a suspect. You’re the only one who can help me.”

“Have you ever been hypnotized?”

“No. One of my therapists tried once, but it didn’t take. I wouldn’t go under, but I think it was because I didn’t want to remember then. Now I do. Now I’m ready.”

Michael studied her for a moment. He could see what she’d been through the past few days. The strain was etched clearly on her face, but she also seemed determined and more resolved than he’d ever seen her.

“I want you to sit back and get as comfortable as you can while I go over a few things with you. Essentially, hypnosis is deep relaxation and focused concentration that will allow a greater awareness of your subconscious thoughts and memories. It doesn’t weaken your control, and you can do anything in hypnosis that you can do out of it, only you’re less distracted. Nothing can harm you physically. You’ll be safe and you can stop the session at any time. You’re in control, Sarah.”

As Michael spoke, he could see her muscles starting to relax.

“Do you have any questions?”

“No.”

“We’ll start out with a few relaxation exercises. After that, we’ll see if you want to continue.”

“Okay.”

After a few minutes of loosening up her muscles, he said, “Now it’s time to concentrate. See that shimmer of light on the wall. Focus on the light and relax.”

After a few minutes, he used a pinprick to test the depth of her trance. She was under.

“Sarah, you are very relaxed now, very safe, and I want you to go to a place that makes you feel happy and secure.”

She smiled dreamily.

“You’re going to travel to some other places, too, places you probably haven’t been to in a long, long time. It’s nothing to worry about. No reason to be frightened. The memories you uncover in those places can’t hurt you. The images you see are only photographs of events long past. They can’t harm you. You’re perfectly safe. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to continue?”

“Yes.”

“Take a deep breath. You’re sinking deeper into your relaxation, but you’re still in control. Always in control. Trust your subconscious mind to tell you what you need to know.”

She frowned as if she didn’t quite understand what he meant.

“I want you to think of yourself in front of a movie screen. It’s directly in front of you, but it’s blank. You’re relaxed, still safe, still very much in control. Whatever you recall will appear on the screen as if you’re watching a movie. It can’t hurt you, but you can stop it anytime you want. Do you want to continue?”

She nodded.

He prepared her by taking her back to various points in her life. She remained relaxed and responsive. Always in control.

“Sarah, tell me what you see on the screen now?”

“Blood,” she whispered. “I see blood.”

* * *

Lukas was fairly certain he was on a wild-goose chase. He’d been getting the same message on his voice mail for days. “Have you checked that old storm cellar yet?”

The voice was disguised, but he was pretty sure he knew who it was.

He might have continued to ignore those messages, but when he’d picked up the phone earlier, that same voice had said, “How long do you think someone can stay alive down there?”

As he turned onto the gravel lane, he tried to remember exactly where that cellar was. Fears had said it was by an old burned-out house. Lukas had a vague recollection of playing out there as a kid. The best he could remember, it was straight back from the cattle guard.

He pulled to the side of the road and got out, using his flashlight to guide him through the trees.

It had been years since he’d been out in those woods, but some instinct seemed to kick in and he found the place without much trouble. All that was left of the old house were the outer walls and part of the roof. The fire had completely gutted it.

The storm cellar was about a hundred feet from the house, a domed concrete structure with an old wooden door that opened to steps leading down into the ground. As Lukas unfastened the bolt, he heard something inside that made the hair on his neck lift.

He threw open the door and the smell knocked him back a few steps. Hand to his nose and mouth, he aimed the beam into the opening. “Hello?” he called. “Anyone down there?”

He listened for a moment, then decided he’d imagined the earlier sound. Or maybe it was just a rat. Or worse, a den of rattlers hibernating for the winter.

Nothing was down there. It was a waste of time coming out here.

He turned and reached for the door.

And then he heard it.

A tiny whimper. Unmistakably human.

Slowly, he descended the concrete steps. It was cold and damp inside, and the smell was almost unbearable. Brushing cobwebs from his face, he angled the light around the cramped space. Wooden benches lined two walls and an old cot had been shoved up against the far wall where someone could sleep out the storm.

Someone was on that cot.

Lukas’s heart flailed against his rib cage as he moved across the room and shone the flashlight over the body. She was dead. Had been for days.

He stared down at the decaying face, framed by a cap of short dark hair. He could still make out her features, and recognition niggled at him. He’d seen her somewhere before.

An image flashed through his head as footsteps sounded on the concrete steps. He whirled, lost his balance and tumbled backward onto the corpse. Something wet oozed onto his hand and he snatched it away, the flashlight still clutched in his fingers.

“You down here, you little bastard? I’ll skin you alive when I catch you.”

“Lukas, hide! Don’t let him find you!”

The door slammed closed and the bolt slid home.

“Let’s see how you long you last down there this time before you shit your pants.”

Lukas curled himself into a ball on the floor, trembling with terror.

Because he knew now who had been leaving him those messages.

* * *

“You’re still relaxed, Sarah, still in control, still feeling good. You’re warm and comfortable. Perfectly safe. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“What do you see on the screen now?”

“More blood.”

“Where did all the blood come from?”

“It’s on me.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Where are you?”

“The old Duncan farmhouse.”

“What are you doing there?”

“Ashe said for me to meet him there. He has something to show me.”

“Is he there with you now?”

“I don’t see anyone. Just the blood. It’s all over my hands. In my hair…”

“How did the blood get on you?”

“I slid down. It’s all over the floor.”

“What are you doing now, Sarah?”

“Crawling.”

“Crawling where?”

“I see her…she’s on the floor… Oh, God…”

“You’re safe, Sarah. No one’s going to hurt you. Just relax.”

She paused and caught her breath. “It’s Rachel. I think she’s…” Her breath shortened and her chest started heaving. “No. Please no.”

“Do you want to stop, Sarah?”

“No. No!” She paused again. “There’s so much blood…so much blood…I have to go…have to get help.”

“Do you leave, Sarah?”

“No…she doesn’t want me to.”

“Who doesn’t want you to?”

“Rachel. She’s clutching my hand. She won’t let me go.” A terrified whisper. “I won’t leave you. I swear I won’t leave you!”