William Bernhardt - Dark Eye

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Susan Pulaski loves Las Vegas, she is the perfect fit for the city and for her job: unraveling the minds of deviant personalities- until a killer begins decorating Sin City with the horribly disfigured bodies of once beautiful young wom en. White- knuckling her way to the center of the case, Pulaski becomes the key player in a desperate hunt for a killer who believes he has found divine inspiration in the works of Edgar Allan Poe. But even with the assistance of Darcy O'Bannon, a twenty-five-year-old autistic savant astonishing skills, Pulaski is in more danger than she knows. Bernhardt is the author of "Primary Justice" and "Murder One".

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“A cross-reference. It’s about her husband. He was a cop, too.”

“David.”

O’Bannon frowned. It was obvious that this was a subject he preferred to leave alone. “How much do you know about him?”

“Not much. Except that he’s dead. And his loss seems to have really hit Susan hard.”

“It did.”

“Started her alcoholism.”

He shrugged. “Certainly a contributing factor.”

“I know he was a detective. Worked with Granger.”

“Know anything about his death?”

He shrugged. “Police work is dangerous. I assumed he was killed in the line of duty.”

O’Bannon drew in his breath, then slowly released it. “The first part is right. The last part is wrong.”

“He didn’t-?”

“They’d been married eight years. Susan probably wasn’t the easiest person on earth to live with, but then David had a temper on him, too. They fought, but no one thought much about it. In a lot of ways, they were perfect for each other.”

“Chief, are you saying-”

“They had a big fight that day. Right here at headquarters. Everyone watching. He stormed out. And that was the last time we saw him.”

Patrick’s lips parted. “No.”

“Yeah.” He handed Patrick a thin file. “Put his weapon in his mouth and blew his brains out.” O’Bannon shook his head. “I guess he won that argument.”

I was sitting at a dinner table lit with candles. The soft, rosy glow cast a warm aura across the sumptuous spread. I felt all warm and snuggly.

“What happened?” I asked.

Rachel answered. “We found you, remember? In the desert. The police brought you back here.”

I turned my mind back, a mental process that produced physical pain. I remembered wandering around the desert, or trying. But my legs still didn’t work well and could only move a few feet at a time. Something had happened to my right leg, or maybe it was the lingering effect of the drugs. I couldn’t seem to remain conscious long enough to focus my thoughts. I was hungry. And thirsty. I had thought myself very noble when I poured the booze into the brink, but I later came to regret it. I needed to drink. I didn’t need a drink. There was a difference. I kept telling myself.

“I told you I was going to prepare a very special dinner,” Rachel said. “Don’t you remember any of this?”

“I-I-”

Another voice from down the table. “Surely you remember the kiss I gave you when you got home.”

It was Lisa. Lisa!

“I mean,” she continued, “I don’t normally go in for kissing chicks. But when my homegirl has been lost in the desert for damn near a week, that’s different. I kissed with wild abandon.”

“I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to give me a nickname.”

“Well…”

“Or if you do, I want it to be Goddess.”

Lisa laughed. “Goddess it is.” She held up a platter. “I made my artichoke dip.”

I gasped. Lisa made awesome artichoke dip. Three different cheeses, mayonnaise, and oh yes I think there’s some artichoke in there somewhere. It is to die for. She hadn’t made it in months. I’d almost forgotten how good it was.

Rachel held out yet another platter. “Don’t forget the buffalo wings.”

I gazed down in ecstasy. Another favorite. With bleu cheese on the side, not ranch dressing like some lame-o joints served. “Did you make this?”

Rachel squirmed. “In a sense.”

“In what sense?”

“In the sense that I drove to Chili’s and picked it up.”

I laughed and pushed six of them onto my plate.

Lisa chirped up again. “Don’t forget the potato skins.”

“Potato skins? What kind of a meal is this, anyway?”

“All your favorite junk,” Rachel explained. “You deserve it.”

It was too good to be true. “What about the Shepherds? Will they be joining us?”

She shook her head. “They’ve given up the battle. NDHS, too. It’s sad that it took your being kidnapped for them to realize what a wonderful guardian-parent, really-you’ve been to me. They’ve all agreed that you should have custody.” She giggled. “I’m so glad, Susan. It’s what I’ve wanted all along. I’m coming home.”

“And… and the basketball? And that church group?”

“Oh, the Shepherds made me do that stuff. All I want is to be home with you.”

The flickering glow of the table filled me. I felt a warmth inside, a contentment. Something I couldn’t remember having felt for a long time.

Granger cleared his throat. “Susan, would this be a good time to tell you something I’ve wanted to say for a good long while?”

“Well, that depends…”

“I’m sorry. About the way I’ve behaved.”

“Oh, you haven’t-”

“Sure I have. I’ve been a regular bastard and I know it. I knew it when I was doing it. But I just-I just-”

“I know. David.”

“It’s not that. Not just that.” He sighed. “It’s because you’re such a good cop. And I know it. Hell of a lot better than I am. Smarter. I feel inferior around you.”

“You shouldn’t. Let it go.”

At the end of the table, one chair was empty. The place had been set. “Why isn’t someone there?” I asked.

“Because you haven’t decided,” Rachel said.

I gazed about the table. “Surely all this food isn’t for me.”

“Of course not.” Rachel laughed, then pointed.

David was sitting at the other end, facing me.

“You’re back,” I whispered.

“Surely you knew I couldn’t stay away for long.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

He seemed puzzled. “For what?”

“For helping me. Back in the desert. Helping me survive.”

“Oh. Well, there’s a problem with that.”

“Problem.” My heart raced. All of a sudden I couldn’t catch my breath. “What problem?”

“You see, Susan…” I knew he didn’t want to go on, but he did. He was always braver than I was. “You’re still in the desert.”

“I-I am?”

“Yes, honey.”

“But I can see you. And Rachel and Lisa. And all this food.”

“Because you’re starving.” He laid his hand gently on mine. “You’re dying, sweetheart.”

I opened my eyes. The sun blistered. I didn’t know where I was, found it painful to move. My naked skin was burned and scratched and bleeding. I had chills and sweated and shook.

I had never left the desert. I could hear the crashing of water, but it was more distant than it had been before. Why weren’t there any people around? Shouldn’t there be people? How long had I been wandering? Weak, exposed, lost. Broken.

Had David said I was dying? But I was already dead. Surely I was already dead.

24

She isn’t dead she isn’t dead she isn’t dead I don’t believe that she is dead Mom Mommy is dead and they wouldn’t tell me and everyone looked at me so sad and I didn’t know why and Uncle Braden smelled like rosewater but she couldn’t be dead because if she’s dead then it’s my fault and we won’t have babies and I won’t get to be a policeman and most of all I won’t get to see her and I like her I really really really like her she’s nice to me.

Why couldn’t I have read that message sooner?

DAM YOU IM ACELERATING YOUR EDUCATION YOURE NEXT SUSAN

Dad says I shouldn’t use words like that and I should forget I ever heard them and so I did forget and it took me longer for the letters to talk to me and the Bad Man took Susan. It’s my fault because I’m so stupid stupid stupid I’m a retard just like they say at Dad’s office I’m a stupid stupid retard. Your mother can’t be with you anymore, Bambi. This Bad Man is playing with us he likes to give us clues but we don’t know what they mean and he took Susan and we don’t know where and please let her still be alive please please please Mr. Strickland said that Jesus saves and Jesus protects so please take care of Susan and keep her alive.

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