The next thing he knew, he tossed the table on its side and kicked the chairs around the deck. Laura's potted plants shattered, fragments of clay slinging across the ground.
Aidan fell to his knees and grasped the back of his head with an agitated groan. He cursed, then released another one.
“What in the world is happening out here?”
Aidan rested against the overturned table, unable to focus on Cheyenne's voice. He shook his head and rubbed the corners of his eyes. All he could remember was the pain he saw in his sister’s eyes at losing her best friend to a sadistic killer. No matter how hard he tried—and he did try—he couldn't erase his sister's hurt. He longed to find relief from the memory, but Aidan knew only the capture of The Carnations Killer would make it happen.
Aidan glanced around the deck and his eyes rested on Laura’s shattered pots.
He cursed softly and apologized, promising Cheyenne he'd buy her sister new plants.
“Aidan, I'm not worried about the flowers.” He looked at her. Cheyenne had her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed out of concern, rather than anger. “What happened?”
“I'm fine,” he told her. Aidan pulled himself to his feet and started cleaning the mess he made, beginning with the glass table. Thankfully it hadn't broken. “I talked to Mairead and we had an argument. That's all.”
“Are you sure that's all?”
Aidan rested his palms on the table and pulled in a few heavy breaths before he turned to envelop her in his arms.
She smelt of sunflower and sweat.
“I'm fine,” he whispered in her hair. “I can handle it. I'm sorry I worried you.”
“Do you want me to make you lunch?”
Aidan pulled away from her. “No, I'm not hungry. I'm going to finish cleaning this mess, then head back to the office.”
“I'll get it, honey,” Cheyenne said, her voice lowering an octave. “Okay? Do what you need to do to end this.”
Aidan regarded her, seeing the change in her eyes.
She was no longer worried or concerned.
It wasn't fear he saw in her anymore.
It was faith.
Before returning to the office, Aidan took a cool shower to refresh his mind. He became rejuvenated as the shower head spit the water against his back. It seemed to make everything go away, even if only for a few minutes.
After he looked around to see the mess he'd created only moments before, he'd begun to realize the murders had already begun to destroy his psyche.
He had become obsessed with a ghost. He was losing sense of who he was.
Aidan knew he owed it to himself to make a change.
He knew if he didn't, if he continued to allow himself to slip into a world filled with demons and pain, everything would have been for nothing, and everything he loved would be lost.
Aidan wouldn't exist any longer.
That's what the offender was preying on.
Now Aidan knew.
He had friends over the years that committed suicide or changed careers because of the things they’d seen.
Or because of the things they’d had to do in order to bring justice.
Aidan contemplated a time when a friend of his, an agent with many commendations in his twenty years of service, killed a suspect in cold blood because of the man’s involvement in child pornography. Once, when Aidan visited him in prison, he told him that killing the suspect was the one good thing he’d done in his life.
He didn't think about his family. He didn't think about his son and daughter.
Or maybe he was thinking of them.
Maybe killing the man who made a career out of exploiting children much like his own was a way of protecting them.
Aidan had wondered over the years if he could ever go that far.
Could he take a life without blinking an eye because he’d murdered more than fifty people including his sister's closest friend?
Or would he start contemplating suicide because he couldn't handle the suffering in the world anymore?
He was raised to believe suicide was a sin. After all, murder is a sin, so it made sense suicide fell under the same category.
The Carnations Killer knew how to unravel him. He was breaking him.
Aidan imagined him laughing.
Laughing at the dedicated agent who had a good life, but was trying to figure out how far he’d go to get the murders out of his mind.
Aidan turned off the shower, opened the curtains and grabbed his towel. Drying off, he stepped out of the tub.
Looking into the mirror, he stared at his reflection.
It reminded him of one of the dreams he recently had. The one when the offender got in the car and looked into the mirror.
And it had been Aidan instead.
He saw his reflection but didn't recognize himself.
Was this what everyone was seeing lately? A stranger residing in the body of their friend? Their colleague?
Had he really arrived at his melting point?
He closed his eyes, then reopened them to gaze back into the mirror. He drew in a deep breath, held it, then slowly pushed it out.
“You won't break me,” Aidan said through his teeth. “You won’t.”
“Aidan?” Cheyenne knocked on the door. “I made you a quick lunch for you to take. I want you to eat.”
Aidan opened the door and thanked her, then rummaged in the closet for fresh clothes. After he dressed, he kissed her, allowing it to linger. Then he told her he loved her and grabbed the sandwich she made.
On his way out, Aidan called Shaun to find out where he was. He told him he’d gone to the office, so Aidan headed his way.
Then Shaun informed him that their favorite reporter had once again
