Chapter Twelve
After David had left with his brother Derrick, Meaghan dressed in her previous night’s clothes and rushed back to her own apartment. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. She should be happy; she’d dodged a bullet. Why was she disappointed? Get a grip, Meaghan. Did you really want to parade around naked? What if he became aroused? Would you allow him to make love to you? Is your sexual desire stronger than your desire to catch the killer?
She covered her face with her hands. Yes. Yes, to all those questions. Yes, yes, yes. She splashed cold water on her face, mindful not to dampen her cast and changed into fresh clothes before settling down onto the settee. As it turned out, the breakfast that Evan had cooked for her was actually brunch because she had slept most of the morning. The rest of the day dragged on without a word from David.
Dinner was delivered to her bungalow at six o’clock and Evan informed her that Masters David and Derrick were eating out, so Meaghan felt secure in the knowledge that she could safely check out the campus. After eating, she leaned back on the settee and closed her eyes, picturing the campus in her mind and deciding on a desired location. The last murder had been close to the art department so she focused on the corridor near where the body was discovered.
She’d practiced this technique since she first discovered her talent as a child in the orphanage. When the other children would leave with adoptive families, she would sometimes follow them in spirit, just to experience—even for a few minutes—the joy of having a family to love and cherish her. Unfortunately, she was spotted a few times and her sudden appearance would freak out the other children. Word got back to the orphanage and the buzz about the weird ghost-girl spread to prospective parents, so, not surprisingly, she was never adopted. Terry became her only friend. He thought her power—as he called it—was cool. Apparently he still thought it was cool because he’d assigned her to the case knowing she could inspect the campus without being in physical danger. As long as her actual body was in a safe environment, she was fine. Her incorporeal self could always come back safely.
Secure in the knowledge that David was away and therefore not a threat, she left her body and headed for the UNI. The University was—not surprisingly—empty. Classes had been cancelled in respect for the victims and the only people that Meaghan could see wandering around the perimeter were the security guards. Damn. Not again! This time she spotted David before he noticed her and was able to hide behind a cluster of industrial garbage bins. His presence prevented her from moving freely around the campus. Another wasted night.
When he moved on, she returned to her body feeling irritated. His constant presence at the campus reinforced her suspicious that he was somehow involved in the murders. If he wasn’t, his clients must be some pretty nasty characters. What are you up to, David Corel? She couldn’t think when he was around. Well, she did actually do a lot of thinking … thinking about what the next lesson would involve, what it would be like to make love with him, did they have a future together? Meaghan shook her head and sat forward in her seat, reprimanding herself for not seeing the big picture. Instead of fantasizing about love-making, she should be thinking about the case and trying to predict who would be next. If you don’t start concentrating on the job, she warned herself, the next victim could be you.
****
After twice doing the rounds of the campus, David pulled out his mobile phone and called his brother who asked, “Any suspicious characters out tonight?”
“Not a one,” David informed him as he walked back to his car. “Except…”
“Except what?”
“I’m sure Meaghan was here. I didn’t spot her this time but I felt her presence again.”
“Sorry, David, but that isn’t possible.”
“How can you be so sure? She could have caught a cab.”
“Anna and I were bored so we started watching the closed circuit television.” Derrick informed him, “Meagan has been sleeping quietly on the couch since you left. She has only just woken up in the last couple of minutes.”
A sense of relief washed over him although he couldn’t shake the feeling that she had been close enough to touch. Could his desire for her be so intense that he imagined her presence?
“David? Are you still there?”
“What? Oh, sorry. I was lost in thought. I’m heading home now.”
David heard another voice in the background. “Wait. Can you hold the line?”
When Derrick returned he had instructions. “Anna just had a vision. She wants you to go back onto the campus and head to the science labs. She said she only caught a flash of a vision but it involved one of the security guards. Go now!”
David flipped his phone shut as he ran. His preternatural speed got him to the science lab in a matter of seconds but it was already too late. As he followed the smell of blood to the lab, he was stopped in his tracks by a security guard who instantly pulled his weapon and pointed it at David’s chest. The guard shook violently. The gun unsteady in his hand as he ordered David to “Freeze!”
“Put the gun away,” David commanded the nervous guard as he stared deep into the man’s eyes.
“I said freeze, arsehole,” the guard repeated, obviously impervious to the compulsion. David’s brow furrowed in disbelief. His method of persuasion was usually effective, especially on a lone individual. Unless he possessed psychic powers or … aha. A pair of broken glasses lay in a smeared puddle of blood near the body. This victim was one of the guards, probably the nervous guy’s partner. Blood soaked the back of his shirt and pants. He’d probably slipped in the pool of blood as he ran to help his partner. David stepped toward the terrified man, his hands up in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Is that what you said to my partner?” the man argued, his voice quavering. “I’ve already called the cops. They’re on their way, so you just stay right where you are.”
“Calm down. I’m not the murderer and I’m not going to hurt you.”
David hoped to pacify the man who was sweating profusely and turning ashen in color. He concentrated on the guard’s pulse and picked up on the arrhythmia, recognizing the signs of an impending heart attack. When the man suddenly clutched at his chest, his suspicions were proven correct. There was no time to waste. The man needed urgent medical attention but he knew that any sudden movement would cause the man’s heart to skip a beat, possibly throwing his sinus rhythm out and his movements were usually anything but slow.
David read the name tag pinned to the guards left shirt pocket and tried to connect with him on a more personal level. “Christopher. You’re having a heart attack. I think we should get you to a seat and call for an ambulance.”
“Oh, you think that do you?” Chris Glass mumbled. He hunched over, holding his hand to his chest, gasping for air as another pain tore through him. “Aaah.”
As Christopher began to fall forward, David knew he could not waste any more time. He lunged, trying to catch the guard before he face-planted onto the tiled floor.
The guard misinterpreted his actions and fired his gun. He kept firing until he ran out of bullets. Then, he lost consciousness.
David felt the sting as the bullet entered his chest followed by the second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth shot. He fell back onto a wooden table which fragmented under his weight, a large section of the wood spearing right through his back and into his chest, narrowly missing his heart. Tempting as it was to try and escape before the authorities arrived, he was trapped, impaled by the largest remaining piece of table. He couldn’t risk pulling the stake through as it appeared to be larger at the base and would more than likely rupture his heart on the way through. He couldn’t reach back to pull it out as it was longer than his arms. There was no time to call Derrick for help, especially as he could hear the sound of heavy boots signaling that the police were running down the corridor. Trapped. There was no way he had the strength to compel all the cops at once and no way of escape. How would he be able to explain how he had survived not only six bullets to his body but also a wooden stake through his chest? There were no other options. It was time to play dead.