J.D. Robb: Visions In Death

She wore casual and well-cut pants with a long shirt, both the color of summer poppies, a couple of rings with deeply colored stones, and dangles at her ears slim drops of gold.

"Lieutenant Dallas. This is Celina Sanchez." "Okay, Ms Sanchez, have a seat. I'm pressed for time, so why don't we get right to it." "All right." She sat, folded her hands tightly together on her lap. She breathed in and out once. "He took her eyes."

"Well, now that I've got your attention…" Celina unhooked her fingers to press two to her right temple, as if to compress a pain. "Could I have some of that coffee?" Eve stayed where she was, sipping her own. They hadn't released the mutilation details to the media. But there were leaks, she knew. There were always leaks.

Her voice was shaky, and carried no accent. It was husky, a shade on the provocative side. "How did you get this information, Ms Sanchez?" "I saw it, and it's not an image I enjoyed." "You saw the victim in Central Park?" "Yes. But I wasn't in the park. I was in my home. I'm here to explain it to you. I'd really appreciate the coffee." Eve sent Peabody a brief nod. "You knew Elisa Maplewood?" "No. Before we go any further, I've never worked with the police. It's not what I do and not something I aspire to." She used her hands when she talked, lifting them, gesturing in a manner that told Eve it was habitual. Then she gripped them together in her lap as if to hold them still.

"I don't want to see what you see, Lieutenant. I don't want to live with those images in my head. Primarily, I do private consultations and parties. I'm not a lunatic or a glory-seeker, though from what Louise has told me about you, I imagine you think I am." "How do you know Louise Dimatto?" "We went to school together, and we've remained friendly since. Thanks." She took the cup of coffee Peabody handed her. "You're more open to extra-normal areas, Detective. Do you have sensitives in your family?" "Ah, I-" "Let's keep this about you," Eve interrupted.

"All right." Celina sampled the coffee, and smiled for the first time since she'd come into the room. "This is wonderful, and I can tell you, frankly, I need the jolt. I had a dream." "Uh-huh." Celina's smile only widened. "The snarkiness settles me down. Who knew? Louise also said I'd like you, Lieutenant Dallas. Oddly enough, I think she's probably right." "That's real nice. Can we stay on line here?" "Of course. In the dream I saw a woman. She was young, attractive, light brown hair, I think. Straight hair, just brushing her shoulders. It looked light brown in the streetlights. She came out of a building, leading a little white dog on a leash.

She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. There was a doorman, and they exchanged a few words. I couldn't hear; I was too far away.

"She crossed the street wide street with the little dog prancing in front of her. In the dream, my heart started pounding with fear. I wanted to shout at her to go back, to go back inside the building, but I couldn't speak. I watched her take the dog into the park. She rubbed her arm, and I thought that she was thinking she should've tossed on a jacket. The nights are getting cooler. She'll go back for a jacket, and maybe it'll be all right. But she didn't." Celina's hands trembled again as she lifted the cup to her lips. "She kept walking, with the dog pulling on the leash.

The shadow fell over her, but she didn't see, she didn't know.

He came at her from behind. I couldn't see him, just shadows.

He'd been waiting, watching, as I'd been watching. Oh, I could feel his excitement, the madness of it, just as I could feel her fear. His was red, dark, vicious red, and hers silver.

Red shadows, silver light." The cup rattled as she set it aside. "This isn't what I do.

This isn't what I want." "You're here. Finish it." She'd lost all color, and her pale eyes were glassy. "He hit her, and the little dog ran away when he kicked at it. She tried to fight, but he was very strong. He hit her in the face, knocked her down. She tried to scream, but he kept hitting her. He kept…" Her breathing went shallow as she rubbed a hand over her heart. "He kicked her and hit her, and he dragged her deeper into the shadows. She lost a shoe. He wrapped a ribbon, a cord, around her neck. Red for power. Red for death. Tight.

She fought for air, she fought him, but he was too strong.

He tore at her clothes. Bitch, whore, cunt. Hating her, hating her, he raped her. Tightened the cord, tighter and tighter until she was still. Until she was dead." Tears tracked down Celina's cheeks. Her hands were back in her lap now, twisted together like wires. "He'd shown her what she was good for. Shown her who was in charge. But he wasn't done. He picked up her clothes, put them in a small bag. And he carried it, and her, deeper into the park.

He's strong, very strong. He takes care of himself. Who's more important, after all?" Her breath continued to hitch and jump. Her eyes stared.

"There's a castle, a castle on a lake. He's king of the castle.

He's king of everything. He slings her over his shoulder, climbs down the rocks. And he lays her out, very carefully.

She'll like it there. Maybe this time she'll stay."

Staring, Celina lifted her joined hands, pressed them between her breasts. "Rest in peace, whore. And he cuts out her eyes. God, God, he cuts out her eyes and puts them in a little pouch, and the pouch into the bag. There's blood running down her face. Blood on his hands. And he, he leans down and kisses her. I woke up, I woke up from the dream with the chill of that bloody mouth on mine." Eve's wrist unit beeped, and had Celina jolting.

"What did you do?" Eve asked her.

"What did I… Well, after I finished shaking, I took a tranq. I told myself it was a nightmare. I know better, but I wanted it to be a nightmare, not a vision. My gift has never taken me anywhere so dark, and I was afraid. I took a tranq and used it to block it out. Cowardly, but I don't claim to be brave. I don't want to be brave, not about something like this." She picked up her coffee again. "But this morning, I turned on the screen. I tend to avoid the news channels, but I was compelled to check. I had to know. And I saw the report.

They ran her picture the pretty woman with the light brown hair. They said her name. I didn't want to come here. Most of the police are born skeptics. It's why you are what you are. But I had to come." "You say you saw in this vision the victim. But you didn't see her attacker?" "I saw… his essence, you could say. I saw a form." Her throat worked as she swallowed. "It frightened me, more than I've ever been frightened in my life. And, frankly, I wasn't going to come here. I was going to try to put it away. Knowing that about myself made me feel small and ugly." She lifted a hand, toyed with a chain around her neck. Her nails were painted a deep and shiny red, with the half moons picked out in vibrant white. "So I came to you, because Louise has spoken of you. And I'll try to help."

"How do you intend to help?" "I might see more if I had something of his, something he'd touched. I don't know." A flicker of irritation ran over her face. This isn't my field. It's new ground for me, and you're not making this any easier." "It's not my job to make it easy, Ms Sanchez. It's my job to investigate." "Well then, investigate me all you want," she shot out. "I can only tell you what I know. I know the man who did this is big, or thinks of himself that way. I know he's strong. Very strong. I know he's mad. And I know this woman, Elisa Maplewood, wasn't his first. He's done it before. He doesn't intend for her to be his last." "How do you know?" "I can't tell you so that you'd understand." She leaned forward now, urgently. "It's what I felt from him. He hated her, and the hatred thrills and frightens him. Hate and fear, hate and fear. Those are paramount. He's hated all of them, and feared all of them. I don't know why I saw her, saw him. Maybe she and I were connected in some other life, or will be in one to come. But I'm afraid. I'm more afraid than I've ever been, that I'm connected, somehow, to him. I need to help you stop him because I think I'll go mad myself if I don't." "And your fee?" Celina's lips twisted into a tense smile. "I'm very expensive, and well worth it. But I would do this pro bono. With one provision." "Which is?" "I don't want, under any circumstances, my name released to the media. I don't want anyone to know, beyond those who are absolutely necessary, that I'm involved. Not only because it's the sort of publicity I'd find irritating, not only because it's the sort of exposure that would generate an interest in the sort of clientele I avoid, but because I'm afraid of him." "We'll let you know. Thank you for coming in." On a half laugh, Celina got to her feet. "Are you always so hard?" "You tell me. You're the psychic." "I don't read minds." Celina's tone took on an edge as she tossed her hair back. "And I don't read people without their permission." "I can promise you, you'll never get mine. I've got a job to do, Ms Sanchez. I'll add what you've told us and your offer into the mix. We'll be in touch." "Looks like Louise was wrong after all. I don't like you." She strode out.