Seer ~ Chapter 2 ~ Kol/Nick

SEER 

Kol Barrington used to be a psychic until a traumatic event took his powers away from him. Until now.

Nick Taylor is a detective faced with a case that is getting stranger by the day. He has what looks to be a nasty serial killer on his hands and a so-called psychic who can tell him details that no one but the killer should know. He also has a desire for this strange witness that he has never experienced before in his life and that part of him wants to take as far as it can go.

If only he could get past the idea that Kol can read his mind and Kol can get past the idea that Nick might well be using him as bait to catch a killer.....

Loosely based on the 1995 novel Dream Man by Linda Howard  

TWO 

Scowling, Nick Taylor tried to figure out just how he and his partner had ended up answering this call. Friday morning and he had that Monday feeling which wasn't a good sign. He had a theory that Sheaffer had batted her eyelashes at his partner and given a sob story about yet another family event she would miss if she took the call. He would have thought David would be immune to such machinations and manipulations by now, but obviously not. Sheaffer didn't even bother trying them with him – being 'out' in the department saved him from a lot of that shit, but obviously he needed to get David better trained.

“Don't look at me like that – Sheaffer had something at her kid's school or something. I figured you probably wouldn't have gone tricking on a work night so no big.” David smiled at him as he got out of the car, quite obviously unimpressed with the scowl Nick was throwing him.

“So what is it?” He followed David up the path, past the police personnel milling about as they unravelled swatches of police crime tape and began wrapping it around everything. It looked like the medical personnel had just arrived which kinda sucked as it meant that the scene was still being contaminated. It was almost inevitable at any scene – the person who found the victim, the first police on the scene; hell, anyone who arrived on the scene before the Medical Examiner was basically a contaminant.

He nodded a greeting to the female officer guarding the door, wondering briefly at her blush before brushing it from his mind as irrelevant. He took a less hurried glance at the collection of looky-loos that were gathered as closely as they could get, trying to see if there was anyone there who looked out of place or just that little bit too avid. The TV programmes had it right when they talked about the perp sometimes sticking around to watch the police machine swing into action. No one in particular caught his eye but he saw with approval that one of the policemen was taking pictures so that they could be referred to later. He wondered if it constituted an infringement of their civil liberties then shrugged it off and followed Threadgood's fine ass into the house.

It was a strictly factual assessment of his partner's anatomy. David Threadgood was a fine specimen of a man, standing over six feet in height with broad shoulders, a trim waist and strong muscled legs. His face was almost pretty with soulful brown eyes, his dark hair gelled back so you got the full impact of the nicely sculptured cheekbones and finely formed mouth. If you ignored hair colour, from behind they could be mistaken for each other as they shared a similar build. However, his hair was a golden brown that stuck up al over his head no matter what he tried to do with it, hence keeping it cut ruthlessly short. His eyes were a murky hazel and his nose was pretty nondescript – neither too small or too big. His mouth, so he had been told, was his best feature – it had got him into enough fights when he was growing up. Jocks actually called him a faggot just because he had pouty lips! It was before he discovered that he was gay and many of the jocks who tortured him had done so partly as camouflage and partly because they wanted him. He'd looked like such a stereotypical twink when he'd been growing up, only filling out, shooting upwards and bulking up as he hit fifteen, sixteen. The teasing, torture and unwelcome come ons had stopped but he'd never forgotten what it felt like to be bullied, taking part in several department initiatives to visit schools and raise awareness of LGBT issues. Maybe that explained him becoming a cop – a desire to protect and serve – as no one else in his family had gone into the peacekeeping business.

He knew the reminiscing was his way of distancing himself from the sight that greeted him in the house. Blood seemed to be splattered everywhere, hand-prints smeared across walls and the floor. Following the path it took led him to the victim or rather what was left of her. She had been hacked to pieces, her torso full of stab wounds, her eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“What we got?!” David's voice was slightly shaky and he knew the slaughter had got to his partner too. He shifted sideways as the chief medical examiner came past wearing his normal garb of boiler suit, paper booties on his feet, gloves on his hands. Snapping gloves on himself, Nick stepped out of the way. He watched as the other man worked swiftly and efficiently before finally speaking.

“Preliminary examination shows a female, approximately early twenties. Various stab wounds leading to blood loss although just from this I can tell you that the killing blow was after she had nearly bled out.”

“It looks like he chased her around most of the downstairs?”

“Judging by blood splatters, I'd say so. I imagine there are more wounds on her back but I don't want to move her just yet. She put up quite a fight, ultimately dragging herself in here where he finished her off.”

“So most of the wounds - “

“Before she died. I'll have to do a rape kit but if he did it looks like he wore a condom. We'd need to rely on stray hairs, that sort of thing. There is one thing.”

“What, more?” David sounded how he felt and Nick resisted the urge to get Jonathan to speak faster. The diminutive man was slow and methodical, something that made him excellent at his job but damned frustrating to talk to sometimes.

“He cut off her fingers on her right hand.”

“He – wait, maybe she scratched him? An angry response or - “

“I can't tell for definite but lack of blood spurt makes me think post mortem.”

“Cool and methodical. To be in this abattoir and take the time to cut off her fingers to prevent us getting evidence - “

“Cold hearted bastard.” Meeting David's dark gaze, he knew his partner was feeling the same as he did – someone like this needed to be caught fast and put down hard.

“Did she have a partner? How was she found?” Nick turned to the young officer who had been guarding the door. She was nervously checking her notes, taking several hurried glances at David every now and then. Really? Was there something ….”What's your name?”

“Sandra Winters sir. I caught the initial call and came round. Her name is – sorry, was Anna Castle. She worked down-town as an insurance broker. Her husband actually called it in. his name is Philip. He works nights – normally gets home in time for them to share breakfast together. He got home as normal, walked in at approximately 7.30 a.m and saw the hallway, called it in as he ran thought to where she is now. By the time I arrived, he was kneeling next to the body which explains the smears on the left hand side. He'd left the door open – that was how I got in – and was sobbing, holding her hand. Umm, the uncut one.”

“Possibly hiding evidence or destroying it”. Half talking to himself, Nick gestured to Winters to continue.

“He's waiting for you in the office which is just off the living room. It's one of the few rooms down here with no blood in it that I could see but SOCO are going to give it the once over anyway. I put a plastic sheet on the chair before he sat down and I kept him from washing the blood from his hands – he's still in the clothes he arrived in.”

“Nice work Winters. We'll go talk to him now – we can always continue down at the station if need be. Jonathan, you'll let us have your report asap?” Jonathan nodded absently before turning back to his study of the body and Nick gestured to his partner to precede him through the door. He couldn't help but notice how close David passed to Winters and how she bit her lip as he did so. There was a story there and he was going to rag on David until he got it first chance he got. He'd never seen Threadgood let anything get in the way of the job, especially something as serious as getting involved with a subordinate officer. Shifting focus, he followed David into the office.

Philip Castle was a slight looking man, with floppy dark hair, weak blue eyes and quivering lips as he sat in the office chair staring at his hands. First impressions said the guy didn't have the anger necessary to cause the slaughter out there but first impressions had been wrong before.

“Mr Castle, we're sorry for your loss.” Watery blue eyes met his, the pain in them quite devastating if it was real. “This is Detective Threadgood, I'm Detective Taylor.”

“I – she said....she...... we always had breakfast together. It was our thing. She – she said if I insisted on working nights we should have at least one meal together.”

“Was that a bone of contention, you working nights?”

“What? Yes, sort of. But I lost my job at the University library and factory work was all I could get and night-shift pays best so - “

“Did you have money worries? Did you have to work nights to support anything in particular? Did your wife have expensive tastes perhaps?”

“Anna – Anna liked nice things but we were okay for money. She just hated being alone at night – said it was scary sometimes. And she was right. I mean, if I'd been here instead of working then maybe – I could have.....if I'd been here.....” Castle collapsed into tears, gut wrenching sobs that shook his slender shoulders.

“Mr Castle, we'll need details about where you were last night.”

“What – I was at work.”

“Did you have to punch in? A time clock – any witnesses see you?”

“I don't understand …. I, yes, I punched in and I worked with my normal team. The four of us were together for the whole shift. I – Oh my God, you think I - “More tears and Nick pretty much decided either Castle was an extremely good actor or there was no way the man was responsible. Obviously his alibi would need to be checked out but they could pretty much dismiss him. A quick glance showed that Threadgood agreed.

“Thank you Mr Castle. Winters will get your statement and we'll be in touch. Once again, we're sorry for your loss sir.” The words felt hollow in his mouth and he wished there was more he could say, something that could provide comfort to the distraught man. He felt Threadgood's presence behind him as he walked back to the living room, taking in the scene one more time. He had a really bad feeling that this was going to get a whole lot messier.