(Psychic Visions 01) Tuesday's Child (16 page)

"We'll move him to the back room after he wakes up from his anaesthesia."

Sam narrowed her gaze. Funny lights played over the surface of the dog's thick fur coat. Weird. Shivers raised goose bumps on Sam's skin. A vision reached into her brain and took over her sight. The dog was hurt worse than the minor repair held together by the stitches. Images crowded her – the dog up in the air, tumbling before hitting his left hip on a fire hydrant.

"Did he get the cut from the car or from the landing?" She focused on the animal's body, searching for any clues as to what else could be wrong.

"The front grill of the truck ripped a strip of hide off him. Why?" Valerie asked.

Sam gazed at her vaguely. "What? Oh, his left hip doesn't look right. But I'm sure you took x-rays, so that hip must be just bruised and not broken."

Deliberately, Sam left, as if to return to the cages to finish her job. In the other room, she stopped outside the door and listened.

Behind her was a weighty silence.

"What was that all about?"

"Damned if I know. Were x-rays done?"

A rustle of papers. "No, the owners brought him in for stitches. They saw the accident. They didn't want to go through the expense of x-rays, if not required. A check-up was done before we came on for the day." More papers were shuffled. "What do you think, should we do x-rays?"

"I hate taking over cases already in progress. I was told this animal just needed stitches. Shit."

Silence except for a brush of clothing and soft muttering. Sam could only hope they were checking the dog's hip a little more closely. Nodding encouragement that they couldn't see, Sam followed their actions with one ear to the door.

"Damn. We need to x-ray his hips. Let's call the owners."

"She's right?"

"I don't know, but there's something wrong. Who did the intake on this animal?"

"I'll have to check the paperwork when we're done."

Sam grinned. She whispered to the empty room. "There you go boy. Now you'll be fine." She listened for another moment before heading to finish her work.

It wasn't until later that she realized this was her first vision around an animal. Sam had actually seen the energy over the injured part of the body. The goose bumps had been the first inkling of something wrong. Her heart positively lifted with joy. To be able to do something for animals would be wonderful. Now, if she could learn to control it so she could use it at will. More questions for Stefan.

"Sam, can you run and do a pickup for us?"

Sam spun around, her hand rushing to her chest.

"Sorry." Valerie reached out an apologetic hand. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Sam blew out a noisy breath, letting her hand drop down.. "I must have been miles away."

"It's these shoes. They should be sleuth shoes." Valerie lifted her practical working shoes to peer at the soles.

Sam waited until she had Valerie's attention. "What do you need?"

"I need you to run over to the where Lucy's daughter works and pick up an injured cat. If you don't mind. It's about fifteen minutes from here." Valerie checked her notes briefly. "You were right, by the way, the dog's hip was dislocated and the ligaments and muscles are badly torn."

"Oh, how sad. I'm glad you could fix him." How could she refuse to go get the cat? Her shift wasn't over for at least an hour. Besides, they were doing right by the dog.

"Of course, we'll pay for your time and your gas."

Sam brushed her hand in the air. "It's no problem. I'm almost done here. Give me directions. I'll just wash up and get ready."

"Great. I really appreciate it. We've been so busy that I haven't taken the time to say how much I appreciate your efforts here. Thanks." With a grateful smile, Valerie headed to the office.

Sam stared, bemused, at the flapping doors. It's a good thing she'd left. Sam didn't have any response to give. She couldn't remember the last time she'd received a compliment like that.

It was kind of nice.

11:00 am

It had been a busy morning already. And still Bill wasn't quite done. He shuffled the contents in the bed of his truck. He'd promised to bring the dogs over to the palliative care center. Those patients loved seeing the animals. It was the least he could do for those dying folks. It was either make their last days a little sweeter or knock 'em off early.

He grinned. It would be so easy. Only, it wouldn't mean the same thing for him. It wasn't just getting his rocks off – well that was a huge part of it – but he needed certain things in order to get there. It used to be easy. Now everything had to go exactly right or he couldn't enjoy himself.

Starting with the victim – just anyone wouldn't do. The right victim was everything to him. He was a selection specialist. And he'd made a mistake last time. Not on the girl, but on the method. He'd tested a new drug on her. Bad decision. She'd reacted terribly, slipping into unconsciousness before he could really enjoy her. He'd left – beyond pissed. Now, he'd need a fix again…and soon because of that.

He'd expected to hear about her on the news, but so far nothing. Stupid cops, they'd probably written her off as a suicide. He grinned. That worked for him. Fooling the cops kept things challenging. Over the years he'd even wondered what drove him, but had come to the conclusion that it didn't matter, as he was past the point of stopping. He refused to dwell on it.

He also didn't like the mask thing. The bloody wool itched. He preferred to stay anonymous. Not take any chances. When he'd first started, he hadn't taken the same care. During the first couple of rapes, he'd sweated with the droplets falling onto the women's skin. Early on, he'd tried using alcohol on one woman's skin to remove any sweat or saliva and had quickly discarded that. He'd ended up with a bloody mess. If being uncomfortable was the price then that was fine with him. The gloves also didn't thrill him because he wanted the skin-to-skin contact. Every once in a while, he still succumbed to the temptation, but was always careful to put them on immediately afterwards. Why the hell it mattered at that point, he didn't know, except he'd been doing it that way for so long logic couldn't even begin to win over superstition. What worked, worked and that was all there was to it.

A shrink would have a heyday with him. Yeah, he was paranoid. Still, he was in this for the long haul and didn't plan to screw up anytime soon.

11:10 am

Brandt pulled into the parking lot at the Willow Health Center. He parked at the front and walked inside. The offices were off to the right. He headed there first.

"Hi, Nancy."

The tiny older woman looked up in surprise. Then a big smile broke out. "Detective Sutherland. Thank you so much for coming."

He shook his head. "She's my problem, not yours."

Nancy grinned. "Except that while she's here, she's also our problem."

There was no arguing that logic. "I'll walk down and have a talk with her before she goes for lunch."

"Good. She might be in her room, or she could be over with the animals today. I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

"Oh, right. It's pet day, isn't it?" The center had a well-loved program where family members were allowed to bring pets in to see the various residents for an hour to two. Sometimes, special dogs and cats came in to keep the people company or put on small shows. The older people loved it. It was a highlight for them.

Brandt walked down to his mother's room.

"Mom?" He knocked gently.

"Come in."

Brandt pushed the door open to find several other people in there. A hushed silence descended when they recognized their visitor.

He heaved a sigh. "Yes, the cops have been called. Mom, what the hell are you up to now?"

Maisy ran over to him and gave him a big hug. "It's lovely to see you dear, however, there's no reason to use profanity."

What could he do? She was his mother. He rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around her frail body in a gentle hug.

He grasped her shoulders gently and held her at arm's length. "Mom, we have to have a talk."

11:20 am

"Here it is." Sam slowed, pulled into the long driveway, and parked. There was a familiar truck parked to the right. She frowned. There's no reason it should be Brandt's truck. There had to be hundreds of those here in town. Her pulse jumped, and she couldn't help searching the area for him. She didn't want to see him, not really, yet couldn't hold back the pulsing excitement at the thought of it. Traitorous hormones.

She walked inside. Large and open with multiple comfy couches, the lobby had a friendly atmosphere. Sam could see people feeling welcome here. Bright yellows and moderate oranges blended with the lush palms and overgrown dieffenbachia plants filling each corner.

The front counter stood empty. Sam pursed her lips. There didn't appear to be a bell to ring for service either. Sam frowned. She checked her watch. Surely, it was early for lunch? Not knowing how a place like this worked, Sam found herself choosing between two corridors and took the left one. Various doorways along the hallway were identified by numbers. They appeared to be apartments or self-contained suites of some kind. They didn't look like the hospital rooms she'd assumed they would be.

Having never known anyone living permanently or temporarily in a place like this, she found herself wondering at the circumstances that would leave them here. Did these people not have family, or were they alone like she was?

Were they happy here? Or did they pine away, always wishing for a better life? Living alone for so long, a place like this could seem like a prison. Surely, some of these people had families to live with?

Laughter drifted toward her. Curious, Sam followed the sound. Glancing back, she saw the reception desk remained empty.

The hallway opened up into another large sitting area with many tables surrounded by people. Some played cards, others were engrossed in chess, and still others were petting several dogs. Animals. Now that was a nice touch. Sam smiled at a particularly large feline that strolled regally between several legs, her leash getting caught up – to everyone's enjoyment.

Sam looked around for someone in charge. Everyone appeared to be in the same age category – old. There was one younger man with a bassett hound on a leash. The dog appeared comfortable, sprawled in place and showing no interest in being dragged across the room. Sam smiled. The dog was gorgeous. Evidently, several of the residents thought so too. Several bent to pat the dog's long ears and rotund belly.

No one appeared bothered by Sam's presence. In fact, no one even seemed to notice her. She continued past the group and headed down a quieter corridor where there were several more doors.

One opened, and a small woman with a nametag on her shirt walked out.
Finally.
Sam stopped. "Excuse me. Do you know where I can find either Sarah or Nancy?" Belatedly, Sam read the nametag.

"I'm Nancy. Sarah has gone home for the day. How can I help you?"

"I'm here from the vet hospital in Parksville to pick up an injured cat."

"Oh my goodness. You've been walking around here looking for me, haven't you? I'm so sorry."

Sam smiled at her. "No problem. How is the...?" Her voice trickled to a stop as a large man stepped out of the room behind Nancy. "Brandt?" She blushed and quickly corrected herself. "Detective Sutherland, I mean. What are you doing here?"

Nancy jumped in. "Oh, do you two know each other? That's wonderful. Why don't you stay here for a moment while I try to locate the poor cat?" With a bright smile the cheerful woman hastened down the way Sam had come.

"No, I'll come..." But Nancy was already gone.

"Too late. Nancy can move very quickly when she wants to."

"Brandt, who are you talking to?" A spry lady with bottle-blue hair came to the door. "Oh." She smiled, a little too brightly. "How nice. Brandt, invite your friend inside." She turned to Sam. "Hi, I'm Maisy and Brandt is my son."

Sam smiled weakly. "Hi." Of course, this was Brandt's mother.

"Come in, child."

Sam found herself manoeuvred into the small suite where several curious seniors instantly surrounded her. Behind her, she could hear Maisy whispering loudly to Brandt.

"Now I know why the others wouldn't do. All you had to do was tell me about her. This is wonderful." Maisy beamed.

Sam closed her eyes. Uh, oh.

"Mom, don't start with me."

"Of course not. I'm too happy to argue with you." She bustled over to regard Sam like a unique species under a microscope. "Move everyone, give the child some space." She snagged Sam's arm and led her to the couch. "My goodness there's not much to you, is there?"

"There's enough. I'm actually quite healthy." Sam tried to defend herself while allowing Maisy to shove her gently onto a flowery couch that probably had many stories to tell. For all the gentleness behind this woman's gestures, Sam sensed a steel core. She might be Brandt's mother, but Sam doubted she had let him get away with much.