He believed it so adamantly that he summarily dismissed any evidence to the contrary. For example, the things that the living didn’t know, that only the person who was dead could reveal.
And the pain. He could never explain the pain.
He had no problem recognizing that severe mental anguish could result in a manifestation of a bruise on her body. That also was grounded in science. It was where the pain originated from and why she experienced it that he could never fathom.
At least she’d gotten to see Mad. The guilt that had been plaguing her for months now was lifted. She’d given Dr. Farver her new address and promised him that she would check in. She’d refused to meet his newest subject, another exceptional telepath, he’d told her, but she had agreed to keep him updated on any more changes in her gift.
Practically, he’d told her to keep a diary and to log what she felt were aberrations the moment they happened. Cass had had to hold back a snort at that point. She seriously doubted logging the fact that she was getting the crap kicked out of her by some crazed beast would help. But it was a step.
The train slowed to a stop and the conductor called out 30th Street Station. Cass grabbed her satchel, left the train and took the stairs up to the main level. It was late, after seven, so most of the daily commuters had cleared through, but there was still a smattering of people milling about the food court area and others on the benches waiting. Glancing up at the center board, Cass could see a train coming in from New York was soon to arrive. No doubt it would be packed with the last of the commuters, and she figured she should get out of the station quickly if she was going to get a cab home.
As she walked toward the doors that led out to the street, she spotted a familiar face. Malcolm McDonough was standing in the center of the station looking up at the board. The
It was a fool’s errand.
Hesitating for a second but ultimately unable to walk away, Cass wandered over to where he stood so stoically. An immovable object, really.
“You think you’ll recognize him?”
Startled, he swung his head in her direction. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
He sighed and decided not to answer.
Cass nodded. She took in his dark overcoat and the suit underneath it. It was too soon for the funeral-the coroner had only just released the body-which meant he had probably come from work.
“Let me guess. You went back to your office today. Tried to work but probably couldn’t focus. Ultimately you gave up. So you checked out the arrival times of trains from Baltimore and figured you would come down here and just see if you could recognize someone getting off this train. A familiar face that maybe you had seen with Lauren at one time or another. What were you going to do then? Tackle the person? Question him or her? Make a citizen’s arrest?”
“It didn’t sound as foolish five hours ago.”
Cass closed her eyes. “How many trains have you been here for?”
“This is the fourth.”
“And?”
“And no luck. But you already know that.”
Cass held her hands up in defense. “Hey, it didn’t take any psychic ability to figure that out.”
His impassive expression was replaced by the weariness she’d seen so vividly in him the day before. He walked over to a bench, still within eyeshot of track eight, and sat down. Cass sat next to him.
“You should go home. There’s nothing you can do here.”
“Her killer came through here. From Baltimore to Philadelphia by train.”
“You don’t know that,” Cass countered. “That ticket could mean anything.”
He glared at her. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You told me she said it was important.”
“It was. To her. It doesn’t mean she was telling me where to look for her killer.”
A line of people made their way up the stairs from the recently arrived train. Cass lost his attention as he scanned the faces of the men and women, most of them in business casual wear, leaving the station. He studied each face individually and a few of the men stared back, obviously not appreciating his intense scrutiny.
“You’re trying to find a needle in a haystack,” she pointed out.
“But I’m trying,” he replied, even as his eyes remained on the passengers.
Knowing she wasn’t going to get through to him, Cass turned to leave. Once again the clicking from the schedule board signaled another update. She heard an announcement for a departure to Florida via Washington and one for the arrival of the New York train-although the crush of people exiting from the track next to them was all the announcement Cass needed.
Irritated that she hadn’t left when she should have, she was about to snap off a goodbye to Malcolm when a tingle at the base of her neck warned her that something was coming.
The shout reverberated in her head, instantly knocking her to her knees. In seconds the room took shape in her head, and this time the monster was already in there with her. Shouting at her.
She cowered at the beast’s feet, holding her hands over her ears to shut out the horrible sound of its yell. In the station, she was also on her knees with her hands over her ears, but the action was useless.
“Cass!”
The distant shout reached her, and she managed to look up. She could see that a group of people had formed a circle around her, no doubt wondering what was happening to her.
In her mind the monster reached down, its face coming so close to hers she cringed in both fear and abhorrence. Then it raised a massive arm and brought its hoof crashing down into her face. She fell back at the impact and pain shot through her body. It was as if the blow had started a rippling effect and had broken all of her bones. It kicked her in the stomach and she curled herself into a ball to try and protect herself.
“Cass, look at me. What’s happening? Cass!”
Focusing on the actual face above her, rather than the one in her head, Cass opened her mouth and tried to speak over the waves of crippling pain. “Here,” she whispered to him, willing him to understand. “Close.”
She watched his reaction as the words she had spoken sunk in and she could see he was torn. The fact that the monster was back meant that whoever had brought it must be nearby, but leaving her meant abandoning her with the beast inside her head.
“Can you fight it?”
Cass couldn’t make out what it was shouting, but it didn’t matter. Malcolm wanted her to fight it, but she didn’t know how. In her mind, she turned over, crawling on her hands and knees to somehow escape it, but it found her and smashed her face down hard onto the floor.
Blood spurted out of Cass’s nose, and she could hear the crowd grasp in reaction.
“What’s happening? Someone should call 911.”
“No,” she shouted, but it was nothing more than a breath of air. Again, she turned to Malcolm. “Go. Close. Find him.”
Malcolm stared at the woman on the ground, horrified at what he was seeing. He didn’t believe in this crap, he told himself, but the proof of her bloody nose and the bruise already forming around her eye was there for everyone to see.
“Step back,” he told everyone. “She needs air. She’s…epileptic.”
A few people nodded, and more than a few who had wanted to help seemed to back off, knowing that the situation wasn’t life threatening.
An elderly woman came forward even as Malcolm stood. “Doesn’t she need something to bite on?”
“No, she’ll be fine in a minute. Just give her space.” Matching his words with actions, Malcolm took several steps away from the crowd, his eyes searching for…what? How the hell would he recognize this person when he
