No Good Comes When You Dig Up the Dead, page 22
“Fuck!” I shake the images from my head and call Brody back. “I just had a weird… vision? Seems I did go into the red room.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
“I think my grandad was having a wank.”
“Oh, wow. Awkward.”
“I was only little. I didn’t know what was happening.” I explain what I saw. “He was so angry.”
“He was probably embarrassed, what with your mum being in the house as well.”
“That’s just it. He was looking after me while she went shopping for him. She’d only just got back, and he dived down the stairs for a wank. Who does that? And why was he wanking over animal pictures?”
“Animals?”
Ugh! I drag a hand down my face. “Something with fur. That’s all I remember. Wet, spiky fur. He had something furry in his lap.” I listen for Brody’s response, but all I can hear is a strange gulping sound. “Let it out, Brody.”
They cackle for ages. “You know when you first mentioned the red room, it made me think of kinky sex dungeons, but like… not animals.”
“It’s not funny. I mean people fucking animals is not funny, Brody. It’s sick.”
“You’re right. You’re right. But it wasn’t an actual animal, was it?”
“I think it was a fur coat or something.”
“Still… eww.”
“Thanks, Brody. I could’ve done without knowing my grandad is a deviant.”
“What triggered the vision?”
“The phone, I think.” I put Brody on speaker and lay my phone on the cushion next to me. “Not mine… something on the telly with a proper old-fashioned ringtone.”
“That makes a lot of sense given what you were doing when you… How much do you remember about when you were under?”
“Not much, why?”
“You tried to call the police to report a murder when I hypnotised you.”
“Yeah, but I did that the night I died, didn’t I?”
“You did, but you were regressing during the session, and I’m certain you witnessed an attack on your grandad. Was it real? Do you remember that?”
“Yeah, a man broke into the house, and… I thought my grandad was dying, but he was back home from the hospital after about a week.”
“Did you call the police that night?”
“Yeah. I called an ambulance first though.”
“Do you remember what the man said to your grandad? Or if there was anyone with him?”
“No, I don’t remember. And there was just him.”
“What makes you think he broke in?”
“The window was smashed, and he was trying to steal a photo frame.” I let out a little huh. “I guess I thought it was valuable… silver-plated or something.”
“Do you remember what the photo was?”
“Yes. It was my grandmother. It’s still there on the mantelpiece.”
“Which means the man didn’t take it when he left, so it’s unlikely he was there to rob the place.”
I feel like Brody is trying to lead me somewhere. I just don’t know where. “Why did you ask if the man was alone?”
“In your regressive state, there was a woman with the man.”
“I don’t remember a woman being there.”
“Is it possible you muddled two memories of sitting at the top of the stairs? Did you have nightmares often?”
“It could be two memories merging together, I suppose.”
“Do you remember what the man was wearing?”
“No… Nothing stood out, but I think he might’ve been wearing a hoodie or something because I couldn’t see his face.”
“Huh.” Brody lets out a puff of air, like they’re blowing their hair out of their face. “You said the man was wearing a checked coat… nothing about his face being covered.”
“I wish I could remember who the couple were… or if they were real. Grandad didn’t have people come over often. Not as far as I remember anyway.”
“There was a point where you were almost yourself again… right at the end of the session, talking about there being no proof. No proof of what? Because you had at least one phone on you that could be considered proof of Robert Winters’ guilt, so what else is there?”
I scrub my hands through my hair. “God, I don’t fucking know.”
Everything is even more confusing. It’s like every time I have the tiniest breakthrough, a thousand more questions come up, and every answer is just out of reach, at the end of a tangled length of string that I can’t even begin to pick apart. If I tug on the wrong part, I might even unravel myself.
“Why aren’t my memories coming back, Brody?” I ask, my voice scratchy with frustration and exhaustion. “It’s been weeks.”
“Maybe it’s time for another session.”
The thought of it sends another wash of acid straight into my gut, but I hate the uncertainty.
“Erin won’t be happy.”
“It’s not up to Erin, Theo. It’s up to you.”
Brody’s right. I need to do this… to face my memories head on.
“Fine. I’ll do it, but I need to talk to Erin first.”
41
The Elephant in the Room
POV: Erin
I haven’t stopped gazing at Theo since I got home from work… since my run-in with Bod Hazard. Bumping into Hazards at Cascade isn’t exactly difficult since there are at least twenty of them lurking in the building.
Now I can’t stop thinking about shoving Theo against the wall, but my stupid brain won’t let it play out how I want it to. The Theo in my imagination just gets all flustered and fidgety, spinning out of my grasp and squawking. How did Raven seduce him? Ugh, I really don’t want to think about that.
I’d look up how to seduce someone on the internet if I wasn’t squashed next to Theo on the windowsill.
“This has always been my favourite time of day,” Theo says, contentment evident on his face.
God, why him? The son of the man who just wanted me to love him back. The man who had to live the rest of his life believing he chased me into the arms of a murderer.
“The air is alive with possibilities,” Theo goes on. “And you’re all warm from the day as the night’s first bite chills your skin. I can taste it… just like I can taste the salt of the sea, but it’s dusty-warm with magic and electricity and freedom.”
I ruffle his hair, any excuse to touch him. “You’re such a poet, Teddy.”
He looks at me, but I look away in case he can see everything hiding in my eyes. “I had a vision today.”
My stomach flips. “What? Why didn’t you say?”
He shrugs. “I’m trying to deal with it without pestering you every five minutes.”
“Theo, that’s literally my job. You’re supposed to tell me these things.”
It’s his turn to look away. “I know I’m just your job, but it wasn’t a big deal. I spoke to Brody because… Well, it was a bit embarrassing. Like, I think my grandad’s into animal porn or something.”
“What the fuck did you see?”
“He was wanking on a fur coat—at least, I think it was a fur coat—and there were all these photos of wet fur. I don’t know, it sounds more gross every time I say it out loud.”
“Are you worried he might’ve passed his animal shagging genes to you?” I crack up at the disgusted look on his face.
“What is wrong with you?”
“Given your penchant for stalking squirrels—”
“Shut the fuck up, Erin. Why does everyone at Cascade think bestiality is hilarious?” Theo stands up and climbs back inside, looking much like a giraffe would look climbing through a window. “You’re all sickos.”
I wait for him to come back, but when I look over my shoulder, he’s sitting on the sofa. I climb back in myself. “I thought you’d gone to the bathroom.”
He doesn’t even look at me.
“Okay, I don’t actually think fucking animals is funny, alright? But a fur coat isn’t a live animal, is it?” I sit beside him, but don’t comfort him like I want to. “Does it matter? In the grand scheme of things, does your grandad’s idea of pornography mean anything at all?”
“Can we stop talking about it? I’m sorry I ever brought it up… to you or Brody.”
“I’m sorry too.” I hold his hand, staring at the way he wraps his fingers around mine. “I didn’t mean to make light of your worries.”
Theo gets up again, murmuring one word as he leaves. “Bathroom.”
He can say it’s not a big deal all he likes, but it won’t make it true. Whatever happened today is upsetting him, whether he wants to admit it or not. There’s no way I can talk to him about my feelings now.
I turn the telly on, flicking between channels, wondering if I’ll be stuck on my own all night.
After several minutes of staring into space, I’m pulled back into the room by Theo’s voice behind me. “What are you watching?”
“Hm?” I glance at the telly, then over my shoulder. “No idea.”
“Oh, it’s that show where people talk about their sex lives for entertainment.”
“You can turn it over if you want,” I offer. “I’m not really watching it.”
“But Clive from Melton Mowbray wants you to know about his hyperactive dong,” Theo insists.
I snort. “I’m not sure I can handle the excitement.”
“Who complains about not being able to get it up five times in one night? Some of us haven’t managed to have sex five times in our whole lives. The absolute audacity of this man.”
I smile, glad to have Theo back, but still worried about his earlier upset.
“I say that as if any of those times were remotely successful,” he goes on. “Actually, I rubbed off on a man once. It was the most sexually satisfying experience outside of my own hand.”
I try not to gasp, surprised that he’s mentioning that. “That’s still sex,” I remind him, somewhat shakily.
“Yeah, I guess. I just… hetero norms. Can’t have sex without a penis going in a hole somewhere.”
“Did you include Raven in that list of not even five times?” I blurt.
Theo groans, covering his face. “I can’t believe he told you. What did he say?”
“He didn’t say anything. I saw you. I needed to pee out all that wine and cider.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“Just… you shouldn’t have to see my orgasm face without consent.”
I laugh awkwardly. “I didn’t hang around for the finale, so your O face will forever remain a mystery I can live without solving.” Ugh! I’m protesting too much.
“I’m not sure I’m all that good at it to be honest.”
“I didn’t see Raven complaining,” I admit, and god, every time I think back to it, to the sounds they were making, and all that groping and humping, a wave of horniness washes over me.
“Well, since we’re talking about it anyway… That was the best time, but we didn’t… We didn’t do everything.” He leans back against the sofa cushions with a heavy sigh. “But I felt so awkward after, which… We must never speak of this again.”
I laugh away the hollow feeling growing inside me, because I am totally fucking this up.
“It’s not funny. I never want to orgasm in front of another human for as long as I live. And no, before you start thinking this is a will somebody think of the animals scenario—”
“I wasn’t, Theo. I’m sorry about that.”
“Well, anyway, it wasn’t. I knew I was inside a pantomime horse and not a real one when Ant Wallace wrapped his arms around my waist and gave the horse an Adam’s apple to rival all others.”
I wheeze through my laughter. “Fuck, I can’t believe you.”
“I wish I’d done it for real at least once, though.”
“You’re not dead, Theo. You can do and be whoever you want.”
He grins and bounces his eyebrows. “Do whoever I want?”
“You probably could. Every time I saw Raven at work after the picnic, he asked about you.”
“He didn’t.”
“He totally did. Asked where’s the ginger hottie with the pretty hazel eyes.”
“I’m not ginger,” Theo points out.
“You’ve obviously never seen your hair with the sun behind it,” I tell him.
“Doesn’t make me ginger. My hair’s mostly brown… with just a tinge of ginge. I think that’s what you call auburn. Anyway, why would he describe me like that when he knows my actual name?”
“Point is, if Raven likes you—and trust me, he’s properly fussy—there’s bound to be others.” I’m not sure why I’m continuing along this path, because every time I open my mouth, I get further away from saying what I want.
“He’s one of those types who wants what he can’t have,” Theo says.
“Except he’s already had it.” God, I sound bitter.
“Yeah, but it was a one-off, which is what I told him.”
“You sound like Oz. He complains about Jack only wanting him because he can’t have him… but that’s Oz for you, putting the kibosh on his own life because he thinks he owes me misery for getting to live.”
“Why do you want me to hook up with Raven again?” he asks, his eyes boring into my fucking soul.
“I don’t want you to hook up with Raven. I’m just saying you have options.”
“What about you?” His gaze roams my face, so fucking intense, and just when I think I understand what he’s getting at, he adds, “Do you have options?”
“No, I… I don’t have… Wait, are you asking…” So fucking literate, Nixon. Of course he’s not asking if I’m an option for him. “No, I don’t have options.”
42
Catfishing
POV: Theo
I always thought my lack of attraction to others was down to not feeling very sexy myself… not feeling anything particularly positive about my body. Nothing negative either… just meh.
I’m not exactly buff now, but I’m more muscular, and I’m eating more, and having to go to the gym to meet my body’s new requirements. Apparently, testosterone is higher in the vampire population, and for me, it keeps peaking, making me want more of everything.
Now, I’m certain that I only ever wanted anyone when I was feeling particularly horny, and it hadn’t really mattered who it was. It wasn’t my libido that was the problem; it was the lack of attraction. Meeting new people and fielding expectations was always a ball-ache, so I avoided it entirely. Sometimes, I’d try to make myself feel something, wondering if those people liked me for real, or if they were trying too. What if I was sending out the wrong signals? What did the right signals even look like? And on the rare occasion I actually got excited about someone else’s existence, was it enough? Was it real attraction? Was it the same as other people felt?
Erin is silent beside me. She seems different tonight, like there’s something on her mind, but she doesn’t want to bring it up any more than I do. Is she disappointed that I haven’t solved her case yet?
I open the Scrabble app on my phone, groaning when I see that Raven won the last game with his final word. I start a new game, grinning at the letters I’ve got, and play my first word.
It doesn’t take long for Raven’s response to come in.
Raven
CRANNY? What a telling first word.
Me
The 7th letter was a hard consonant. I’d like to have seen you try for something less euphemistic.
We play back and forth, the board getting tighter until…
Raven
Your favourite word.
Raven played KNOB.
I laugh.
Me
I’m over the verbal diarrhoea now, thanks.
Raven
You say that like I wasn’t there to hear your ramblings on Friday night.
I don’t want to talk about Friday night either. I send a final word, then close the app.
Erin’s not here, and I didn’t even notice her leave the room. Has she gone to bed? The bathroom door closes quietly.
“Goodnight, then,” I call.
“Night.”
I close the window, so we don’t wake up to a seagull perching on the dining table, and head for the bathroom. I’m still awake an hour later, the whale sounds doing nothing for my overactive brain.
I sit against the headboard, turn on the bedside lamp, and pore over Erin’s case notes again.
Who is Robert Winters? Is Derek really running around killing women? Is he even old enough to have committed those first murders? I’m pretty sure he’s not even sixty yet, which would put him in his early twenties for the first murders, so it’s possible, but Erin said the man who killed her was in his early fifties. Could Derek be a vampire? I don’t see it, but I probably don’t look much like a vampire either.
I’m standing in the doorway of Erin’s room like a creeper. I don’t know when I started loving her, and it’s alien to me that there was ever a time when I didn’t know her in my heart.
Not for the first time, guilt brews inside me, sick and heavy, at the admission that I’m glad I met her. Being here to meet me at this time and place had cost her everything, and she doesn’t even have the silver lining of returning my feelings.
I head back to my room, more determined than ever to solve her murder where CasID failed.
I look up Patricia Wells, the name of Winters’ last victim, scanning through the news articles, hoping some detail will catch my eye. It’s not like I expected Winters to be named as a suspect, given that it’s an obvious alias, but I hoped there would be something useful. Shit, I need to get a better ad blocker… except an ad pops up for one of the big dating apps.
I set up an account and begin to type.
Mandy. 31.
I enjoy long walks on the beach, fish and chips, and… watching Sex Please, We’re British.
