Bad Karma (19 page)

“It definitely can, hon, as he’s proving. I talked to him about you also and he’s willing to meet with you. He has no idea if he’ll be able to contact those deceased students—he’s never done that before, but he’ll give it a try if you’d like. He’ll need articles of clothing from them. That’s what he uses when he connects to the dead and near-dead children that he finds. His name’s Les Hasherford. It’s probably too late for you to call now, but I’ll give you his number when we get back to the hotel and you can try him tomorrow.”

“
Les Hasherford
,” Shannon repeated. “His name’s familiar.” He hesitated, his eyes squinting as he concentrated. “I think he consulted on a case in Watertown when I was on the force. If I remember right he helped find a little girl who had been buried in some perv’s basement. He saved her life.”

Susan nodded, her eyes misting. “He told me about that when he found out I was from Cambridge. You don’t know what it means to me to be able to have this type of impact on his life.”

“I’m proud of you, darling,” Shannon said.

“I know.” Her eyes turned liquid as she closed them part way and flashed a smile that made him weak in his knees. “Right now I wish we had ordered room service,” she said, her voice a soft throaty whisper.

Shannon nodded silently. He dropped twenty dollars on the table to cover the bill, then walked Susan out of the restaurant. Eddie had packed up and left his spot under the streetlamp and the rest of Pearl Street seemed desolate; the few college kids and transients they had passed earlier having already called it a night. Susan held him close as they walked, her thin arm wrapped tightly around his waist. In the cool night air he could feel her body shiver. It was so quiet and still out, as if they had all of downtown Boulder to themselves. When they got back to their room, Susan took hold of his hand and led him to the bed. He watched as she undressed and then he joined her. There was so much emotion in her, so much passion as her body buckled wildly under his, her breath hot against his face. It was a long time before they were done.

Afterwards, Susan fell asleep quickly, her head nestled against his shoulder, her legs lying over his, one of her arms stretched across his chest. There was a contentment in her as she slept. Shannon had an arm around her side and could feel the rising and falling of her ribs as she breathed. He let his hand drop so that his fingertips touched her small hip and felt the coolness of her skin. He felt relaxed as he lay there, as if he could drift off easily. He almost did several times, but he tried to stay awake and concentrate on one of the lucid dream exercises Eli had given him. It was hard, though, his thoughts drifting away while his own breathing grew more shallow.

Then he was simply drifting along, his body bobbing up and down as if he were riding waves at the beach. After a while he saw her in the distance. A shawl draped over her shoulders covered her as she sat with her knees bent to her chest and her hands clasped together around her legs. She looked so small and frail sitting alone, almost like a porcelain figurine. Long blond hair fell past her shoulders and ran halfway down her back. She turned to face him and he recognized her. Reluctantly, he accepted that he would have to talk to her. The next thing he knew he was no longer floating peacefully in the current he’d been caught up in, but now had his feet rooted firmly on the ground as he stood next to her. He saw the headstone by her elbow, then all the others. As he read the words carved on the polished black granite stone next to her, he realized she was sitting by her own grave.

“Linda Gibson?” he asked her.

She nodded, her eyes glassy as she looked up at him. Her face was as expressionless as a doll’s. She pulled the shawl tighter around her.

“The police are investigating your father now.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“Did he kill you?”

She shrugged weakly. “What do you think?”

Shannon found himself shaking his head. “Your mother?”

“No.”

“But your father—he did abuse you?”

“Yes, he did. Since I was twelve. He didn’t stop until I was fifteen. When I went to college he started on Gloria. There was no one to protect her after I left.”

“Is that why your mother sent her off to France?”

“No. Mom did that after I confronted her and Dad over Thanksgiving. Before that I don’t think it much mattered to her.”

“Your mother knew what he did to you?”

“She knew. I told her dozens of times, but she always acted as if I were making it up. She knew, though. It’s why she wouldn’t let me see a gynecologist until he stopped. She didn’t want anyone seeing the bruising and swelling that he caused.”

“I’m so sorry, Linda.”

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

“I’m still sorry that had to happen to you.”

She nodded, her expression still little more than what could’ve been painted on a doll’s face.

“Linda, who killed you?” he asked.

She stared blankly at him, didn’t answer.

“Can you at least give me a clue?”

Her lips twisted into a slight smile. “
Mit vergnugen
,” she told him.

He woke up then. For a minute or so, he tried to hold onto the peacefulness he’d felt when he’d been floating in his dream. It was gone, though, no remnants of it remained for him to grasp onto. Grudgingly he gave it up, and instead thought about the conversation his dream-self had with Linda Gibson. He decided that she was nothing more than the manifestation of his subconscious, brought up so he could work out his thoughts about her and the events of the past day. He got up, scribbled down some notes, then went back to bed. After a long time he drifted into something close to sleep.

Chapter 11

Shannon was up before the alarm clock rang the next morning. While he’d slept restlessly most of the night, he felt physically better than he had the last couple of days—less stiff and almost no pain cutting through his ribs when he sucked in air. Still, he couldn’t shake an overall feeling of uneasiness. Before leaving, he kissed Susan on the cheek and whispered to her that he was meeting Eli. She stirred, half awake, moving so she could brush her lips against his.

“Busy day?” she said softly, her eyes barely open as she looked at him.

“I think so. How about you?”

“Mostly free. One appointment this afternoon.” She stretched her slender body in a way that reminded him of a cat. “It will give me time to shop for a pair of pom-poms. We’ll meet back here for dinner?”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” she said, her voice drowsy and tailing off into a low murmur. She rolled onto her side, her eyes closed as she seemed to drift back to sleep. Shannon reached over and kissed her forehead, then left the room.

When he got to
Juiced Up
, he found Eli standing in front of their usual morning haunt, his arms crossed and his eyes drooping half-closed as if he were falling asleep. He gave Shannon his typical deadpan stare and told him that the store was late opening up, then rapped a heavy set of knuckles against the glass door. A college-aged girl inside with red frizzy hair held up a finger to indicate one more minute.

“Intolerable,” Eli muttered, grimacing to show his perceived injury. “They’re supposed to open at six thirty. It’s almost seven.”

Shannon laughed. “Maybe if you weren’t decked out like a gang member she would’ve opened up already.”

He gave Shannon a quick sideways glance and flared a nostril to show that a response would be beneath him. He then asked brusquely how Wichita was.

“Flat.”

“I would expect so,” Eli said, a bare trace of a smile ruining his deadpan expression. “You know full well I was asking whether it was eventful.”

“In that case, I’d say so. Best apple pie I’ve had in years.”

Eli turned and stared at him as if he were an idiot—or worse, that Shannon was once again trying to argue that the ’04 Red Sox were a better baseball team than the ’98 Yankees. The redhead working in the store interrupted them by unlocking the door and letting them in. Shannon stopped to tell her his theory on why she left Eli standing out on the doorstep. “But once I came along, one look at my mug and you knew it was safe,” he added. She laughed at that. “That’s right. His NY Yankees jersey and baseball cap screamed gangbanger—even though I’ve been seeing the two of you here almost everyday since I took the job.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I didn’t see you around yesterday.”

“I was out of town. Spent the day in Wichita.”

“How was it?”

“Flat.”

That caused her to both smile and roll her eyes. “What can I get you two?” she asked. Shannon pointed a thumb at Eli who had taken a table by the window and was sitting with his arms crossed while he sulked. “Bucky Dent over there would like a large chai –”

“And a chocolate chip scone,” Eli interjected, his voice dripping with petulance.

“- and a chocolate chip scone,” Shannon repeated. “I’ll take a black coffee as high octane as you can make it.”

Shannon waited at the counter while she got the order together, then paid for it and brought it back to their table. Eli raised an eyebrow when he saw the coffee. “We’ve been meeting here almost three years,” he said. “This might be the first time I’ve seen you with a cup of joe.”

“Could be,” Shannon said. “I’ve been avoiding it. Supposedly it antidotes homeopathic remedies, and I’ve been letting Susan use me as a guinea pig.”

“What for?”

Shannon made a face. “Rage issues I had dealing with Winters. I think it helped, the meditation maybe more. But this morning I need a cup. Badly. And if there were a pack of cigarettes on the table, I’d be smoking them also now.” He lowered his eyes to his coffee. “I used to be a two pack-a-day man. Quit cold turkey five years ago when I was in the hospital.”

“Bill, I’ve got to tell you, you were in rare form this morning. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m feeling a little antsy.” Shannon raised his stare and met Eli’s eyes. He was smiling, but it was a hard smile. “This whole cult business is bugging the hell out of me.”

“You could drop the case.”

“Not really, at least not if I ever want to look at myself in the mirror again. If I don’t help my client, nobody’s going to. Which would mean her daughter’s as good as lost.” Shannon stared out the window and watched as two squirrels darted across the cobblestone street and chased each other up a maple tree. When they were out of sight, he looked back at his friend. “Even without all that I couldn’t drop this—not without having to worry about those two Russians showing up at my apartment. One way or another I have to see this through,” he said.

“Any idea how?”

“A few, and they all center around finding out why a couple of Russian gangsters are acting as muscle for a cult.” He had other thoughts on the matter that he didn’t bother sharing with Eli. Once those Russians crossed the line and made it clear they’d come after him at his home, as far as he was concerned all bets were off. If he ended up having to flush them out and set them up for a long prison sentence, he’d do that. If he had to do worse, he’d do that also. He looked away and took a long drink of his coffee.

“If there’s anything I can do to help…”

“I know.”

“So are you going to tell me about Wichita?”

Shannon rubbed his jaw and could feel that the swelling was mostly gone from where he’d been hit. “I found circumstantial evidence that Linda Gibson had been sexually abused by her father. The Wichita police are looking into it now.”

“You’re kidding? Jesus, Bill, you were there only one day!”

“That’s all it takes sometimes when you’re good,” Shannon said with a tight grin.

“And of course, modest.”

“Of course.” Shannon’s grin turned into something more weary. “I picked up enough signals talking to Linda’s parents to make me suspicious about the abuse, but I also got lucky. Or as you like to say, maybe I created my own luck.”

“And how did you accomplish that?”

“When I arrived in Wichita I stopped off at their main police station to let them know why I was in town, and a local cop searched me out. He dated Linda back in high school and wanted to make sure I wasn’t there to dig up dirt on her. As it turned out, he also had his own suspicions. We were able to convince his captain to investigate the sexual abuse. It wasn’t easy. The guy looked absolutely crestfallen when he realized he had no choice but to take it on or risk the political fallout if it came out in the press. And I made sure that he knew it would come out in the press.”

“How in the world can the police investigate the abuse now with the girl dead?”

“They probably won’t be able to with Linda. But there’s another daughter who was shipped off to a boarding school in France.”

“And you think he abused her too?”

“It’s a good bet. If he did, he’s going to prison.” Shannon looked out the window, watching as a couple of kids in long baggy jeans walked by, one wearing a Rolling Stones T-shirt, the other a Def Leopard one. He turned back to Eli. “Want to hear a coincidence? The cop who dated Linda also had an aunt murdered by Winters and his cousin.”

“There are no coincidences.”

“You’re going to try to tell me there’s a divine plan that had me meeting that cop?”

“No.” Eli took a bite of his scone and chewed it slowly. After brushing some crumbs from his chin he continued. “Nothing like that. But picture an energy current that swirls about and picks you and other people up with it. That’s why sometimes we keep running into the same people throughout our lifetimes—we’re riding the same energy jet stream. So whatever energy wrought Winters and all of his destruction, also caught the two of you up in its wake. There is no doubt a connection between you and that officer. And whatever it is, it brought the two of you to the same point in Wichita yesterday.”

“All too metaphysical for me.” Shannon started to rub the joints above his two missing fingers, caught himself. “He seemed like a good kid, though, and I guess we are connected in a way. Because of Winters and his cousin we both became cops. And there are the more obvious ways too.”

The two men grew silent then. Shannon’s face darkened as he sunk deep into his own thoughts. Eli had a similarly distant look as he ate his scone and drank his chai. A glimmer showed in his eyes. He brushed more crumbs from his chin, then asked “You don’t think Gibson could be responsible for his daughter’s death? That maybe she threatened to expose him?”

Shannon looked up at him as if he were coming out of a trance. A few seconds passed before the question registered, then he shook his head. “The Wichita police are looking into it. It’s a possibility, but I don’t think that’s what happened.” He caught himself again as he started to massage the area around his missing fingers. “I had a lucid dream last night.” He lowered his voice and edged his chair closer to the table. “It was all very vivid. In the dream I found Linda Gibson sitting by her grave wearing what looked like a burial shawl. I asked her about the abuse; also whether her father was involved with her death. She confirmed the abuse, but denied that he had anything to do with her murder. When I asked who killed her all she did was mutter some gibberish.”

“How do you interpret this?”

Shannon shrugged. “Her muttering gibberish? No idea. The rest of it was probably my subconscious clarifying my thoughts.”

“Or maybe pointing out your gut instincts.”

“Maybe.” He took another long drink of his coffee, finishing it. “There was something very odd about that dream. Before I found Linda, I was floating as if my body were weightless. I felt so light, so much at peace, and all I wanted to do was hold onto that feeling. When I saw Linda by her grave, I knew I’d lose that sense of peace if I went over and talked to her. It was the last thing I wanted to do, and it took every ounce of strength I had to make myself go over to her.”

“Why did you?”

“I knew I was supposed to.”

Eli tapped his forefinger slowly against his upper lip. “I’m wondering,” he muttered.

Shannon waited while he watched Eli methodically tap his lip. Then somewhat impatiently he asked him what he was wondering.

“How vivid was this dream when you woke up?”

“Very.”

“How about now?”

“Still very vivid.”

“Then what I’m wondering is whether you had a lucid dream or instead had left your body.”

“I didn’t leave my body,” Shannon said. “I didn’t feel any of the twisting and ripping sensation that I felt that time with Winters.”

“It’s not always like that. You could’ve transitioned gently from the dream plane to another plane of existence.”

“That’s not the case. Linda didn’t seem real to me. Her skin had this unnatural sheen to it. Almost like she were a ceramic doll.”

“Like she was something very fragile?”

“Yeah.”

“That fits. She was projected as the image you needed to see her as. I’m telling you, Bill, I think you had an out-of-body experience.”

“What I’m thinking is something got slipped into your chai,” Shannon said. He found himself drumming his fingers hard along the table surface. The same antsy feeling he had earlier was back again worming its way into his gut.

“Jesus, Bill, why are you so upset about this? This is what you’ve been working towards.”

“I’m not upset, it wasn’t an out-of-body experience, okay?” Shannon checked his watch and pushed himself out of his chair. “I’ve got to get going. I’m meeting someone at eight. Usual time tomorrow morning?”

Eli nodded slowly, his lips pursed as he studied Shannon. “Normal time tomorrow’s fine.” Then showing a thin smile, added, “I still don’t understand this reaction from you. It’s not as if I rubbed your nose in the fact that your beloved Red Sox lost to the lowly Colorado Rockies two nights ago.”

“They took two out of three, which is better than your Yankees have been doing with Tampa Bay.”

Eli crossed his thick arms, his deadpan expression back in place. “A low blow,” he said. “Try to tell me tomorrow why the idea of that being an out-of-body experience upset you as much as it did.”

“Christ, Eli, I’m telling you I’m not upset. Besides, that’s not what it was. See you tomorrow, okay?”

Shannon nodded to his friend as he moved quickly out of the shop. He had a half hour before he was going to stop by Devens office, but the uneasiness that had worked its way into his gut made it hard for him to sit still. He walked fast down Pearl Street, taking deep breaths as he moved. Two blocks from
Juiced Up
he spotted the girl from the other day—the one in the flowered vest and long “hippie” skirt who had hit him up for breakfast. She noticed him too and showed a smirk as she made a beeline towards him. When she got within twenty feet, her smirk disappeared and she looked away from him, the color of her face blanching a pale white. Shannon walked past her. He was a block away when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a storefront window. The look on his face stopped him.

He took several deep breaths and tried to empty his mind as he stared at the Flatirons off in the horizon. He knew part of the reason for his uneasiness was worrying about those Russians, knowing that he and Susan couldn’t move back to their apartment until they were taken care of. And while he knew Susan could more than adequately take care of herself, he still couldn’t help worrying about her going back to that yoga studio. The thought of his dream being an out-of-body experience bothered him too, maybe more than the rest of it.

He had the thought about that dream being something more real when he first woke up from it. The idea of it had nagged at him all morning. Before meeting with Eli, he tried convincing himself it was only a lucid dream, maybe an extraordinarily vivid one, but still just a dream. He knew why the idea of it being more than that bothered him so much. For five years he’d been trying to learn how to leave his body so he could find his mom and his old partner, Joe DiGrazia. More than anything he wanted to tell them both how sorry he was about what Charlie Winters had done to them. And now that he finally had a chance to do that, he was so wrapped up in a case that he blew it. The opportunity he’d been wanting for so long was gone.