Shattered: A Psychic Visions Novel (39 page)

She froze. “So I’m back in time?”

I don’t think it’s time travel as much as he’s reliving in his memories
 –
ones he loves so much he spends a lot of time here rejoicing and that’s where you found him.

“What am I supposed to say to that?” she whispered. “That’s so bizarre.”

Stefan spoke up.
Although this may look like real time, you can’t actually walk about the buildings and see the back of them. You can only walk where he walked as that is part of his memories. Any place that he didn’t go, you can’t access.

She blinked.

“So the person whose grayscale I’m in is…”

The man who set the fire,
Trevor said in a low tone.
And very likely the man who killed my teacher.

She gasped. “I’m in the grayscale of a murderer?”

Yes. And now the question we need answered
 –
do you know whose grayscale world you are in?

*

He watched her
shake her head.
Damn.
Too bad. That would help us tremendously.

“I have no idea. Why would I come here? And at this time frame. I never knew anything about the school fire. I wasn’t even with Sticks when it happened. That was after we broke up. There’s no way he did it
because
we broke up. He didn’t care about me in the least.”

We’re not saying it’s him at all.

She seemed to calm down slightly at that reassurance. “But if I’m here, you’re saying I’m connected. If I’m connected that means it has to be through one of your old group, Trevor.”

And that leaves us five options.

“Seven, you said.”

Right, but the other two had left a long time ago.

She nodded. “Does that mean they are ruled out then? Or are they even more possible suspects as they might have left for a reason.”

I don’t remember the details. They were both heavy drug users so who knows if they are even still alive.
His tone of voice changed.
But it’s time to come home, sweetheart. Stefan needs his beauty sleep.

Why would you let me get it now?
Stefan said.
Hannah. Before you leave, take a close look around and try to retain this image. Not just with your eyes but also with your ears, your nose.

“That’s it!” she cried. “I stood here before the fire started. That’s when I heard liquid pouring, but I couldn’t see where or what until I recognized the gasoline smell. Someone was pouring gasoline around the trailer.”

Do you know who?
Trevor asked.

She shook her head. “No idea.”

Was it male or female? Can you tell that much?

She closed her eyes, trying to draw that memory back to her. And caught a whiff of perfume. “It was female,” she whispered. “At least there was a woman there.”

If that was Stones, Sticks wouldn’t have been far behind.

We don’t know it was either of them,
Stefan cautioned.

“Didn’t you say another teacher had been fired because of having an affair with a student? She’d been a hard type and likely had the affair to bring down her teacher?”

Yes, but that was the same girl
. Trevor’s voice slowed.
She’d broken it off with Sticks before you came on the scene. Then she wanted to get back together with Sticks. Or he managed to get her back on his side.

I suspect the fire was lit to hide their tracks,
Stefan said.
My gut instinct says that’s key. We need to locate them both now.

“How do we do that?” Hannah asked. “It happened was decades ago.”

Lots of ways. Fingerprints are one,
Trevor said.
We were all printed back then. They’d found a couple of gas cans thrown away with prints on them, we heard but nothing more was mentioned about it. We all assumed they never matched a suspect. But we were kids, and no one was sharing information with us.

Stefan said seriously.
Considering their prints haven’t shown up since, they’ve managed to keep under the police radar, so we aren’t going to have much luck there. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll have to try to track that energy backwards and find them that way.

*

Did he see
what he thought he saw?

No…hell no. She couldn’t be here.

Not in his dreams.

Wait…if she was here – was he dreaming her presence? Not that he had any idea why he’d do such a thing. He wouldn’t. There’s no way he would.

This was bullshit. Then he realized she wasn’t in his dreams, she’d walked into his memories. Memories he held precious. Memories where he’d snuck in and around watching the others…always watching what everyone did.

And icy fingers walked up his spine.

Jesus. That couldn’t be.

She couldn’t do that.

There was no way.

And if she could do that – could others?

There was no way in hell he wanted anyone walking through his mind, past, present or future. He’d done some shit no one could know about. And he planned to do a whole lot more.

T
rying to follow
Stefan’s instructions she studied the fire burning around her, looking for someone she’d recognize. Looking for a face to take back with her. She might walk in this person’s grayscale world again but that didn’t mean she’d be able to walk in this particular memory twice so she had to make this visit count.

Was he a pyromaniac? A person who thrived on fires? Fascinated to see the world burn? If so, then why kill the science teacher? Or had his death been an accident? Maybe no one knew he was in the trailer marking papers. He’d lived alone and it wasn’t unreasonable for him to stay late with his assignments to mark and his bottle to keep him company.

“Here, hold this.”

Something was thrust into her hand. Instinctively she reached out to grab it. And found a gas can in her hand.

She searched around for the person who’d given it to her, but she’d only seen the black gloves.

Oh my God. Was she in her grayscale for real now or was she still in the person’s whose grayscale she wandered in. Or was he showing her a picture of something special.

She squeezed the gas can.

And felt the pressure. Oh shit. Oh shit.

This was so damn confusing. She stared down at the hand. It was small. Feminine. It wore a ring on the one hand. She looked at her other hand and found a matching ring on that hand too. How could that be? She stared at her fingers. The rings. She felt her throat squeezing shut. Dear God. She knew these hands. They were hers.

She was holding the gas can. In her own grayscale world, she’d switched into her own memories.

Had she been here the night of the fire? Been involved? She searched the cavern of her mind. A block had started to crumble. As if its time had come. She was afraid of what she’d find. Please let her not have had a hand in setting this fire.

Please not. Surely not.

She’d never do anything like that.

That didn’t mean Sticks wouldn’t have tried to involve her. He’d been the one she’d met here that night. He’d called her out of the blue and said she’d left something behind, and he wanted to see her one more time. She’d come to the school against her best judgment and hoped to go home quickly. He hadn’t shown up.

Until he’d asked her to hold that can.

Now the memories flooded her psyche.

That dark, handsome face as he turned, gave her a sardonic grin, and threw a lit match. She cried out. “Now what are you doing…”

A loud whoosh whistled through the air as the gas caught fire and the trailer had gone up in flames. She screamed and threw up her arm to protect herself. And found the gas can in her hand.

“Oh my God, you set me up.” She threw the gas can at him.

He laughed. “What’s the matter, rich bitch? Can’t take the heat?”

She cried and backed away. “You said you wanted to meet me. You told me I’d left something behind,” she screamed at him, panic clawing at her throat.

“You did. You have now left your prints behind.”

There was a bright flash from the trees, and he howled with laugher as she’d turned and ran. As far away as she could go. She ran, stumbled and ran some more.

Hannah bounced from one wall to another as she tried to work her way safely back out from her memories. She hit an already damaged wall, the top half crumbled and fallen down. The force was hard enough she heard a crack as the rest gave away.

She spun around to see it slowly crumble before her.

It hadn’t been a wall. It had been the block. One of the last ones. And she realized that the half fallen down one she’d passed before had released this memory. Allowing her to see what had happened…her part in it. Or rather what had been made to appear what had been her part in this nightmare. She shook like a leaf as voices rolled over her and through her and around her.

With the block in place she’d never known she’d been at the school that night.

*

“Hannah? Are you
okay?”

Trevor stared down at her in concern until she finally opened her eyes to stare up at him, features drawn, her gaze shadowed.

“Oh thank God,” he muttered and swung her up into a tight embrace.

She rested in his arms, her body exhausted, her mind strung out on betrayal and pain. “It was Sticks who lit the fire,” she whispered. “I don’t know if he knew the teacher was inside or not, but he had me hold the gas can so my prints would be on it.”

Trevor froze.

She shuddered. “Dear God. I never knew.”

He sagged in place. “I gather the block came down.”

“Yeah, it was well on its way to being a crumbled down barely held together wall as it was by the time I got there. It literally gave up the ghost when I accidentally slammed into it. I couldn’t…can’t believe what I saw, what I heard…”

“And it was Sticks’s grayscale you were in?” he asked cautiously. “Do you know that for sure?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t. I don’t understand yet whose space I was in.”

“Did you grasp the can?”

“I did.” She shuddered. “And I felt pressure, so I think it was mine…”

“But did you feel the pressure or did you just
see
it in your hand and assume that you were grasping it.”