Unholy Shepherd by Robert Christian (rooftoppers txt) 📕

into the boy’s stomach, but not in any violent way, more like he’s being dissected. My own thoughts start to filter in, I can’t stand to watch, and it’s like I’m wrestling to pull myself away. The hands keep cutting him open, but everything starts go black. And the next thing I know, I’m awake and staring at you.” Her hand shot out and grabbed the water. Manny could see that, as she lifted it to her lips, her hand was shaking.

“And did you have a similar nightmare the night that Jacob Lowes was killed?” This was all too incredible, but he had to make it seem that he was open to the possibility of all this being true. If he kept playing along with her, maybe she’d actually give him something that could break this case.

Maureen nodded. “In that one, I saw the hands put a rag over his mouth and take him right from his bedroom, through the house, and out the back door. There was the same type of a woodpile in the backyard. The same knife was used. It felt as if my own arm was jerking to cut the kid’s throat before I woke up in my apartment.”

“Where you were alone, with no one to corroborate your story,” Manny finished. He regretted saying that. He didn’t believe for a second that this woman’s dreams somehow predicted the future, or whatever she was driving at. Still, the misstep in his words might lead to her shutting down again.

“Told you you wouldn’t believe me,” she scoffed bitterly as she took another sip of water, popped another aspirin into her mouth, and swallowed them both together. “It’s not like anyone has ever believed me.” She went back to not looking at him. It was as if she were talking to the table, and he was just there to overhear her end of the conversation. “And why should they? Why would they? It’s ridiculous.” Her voice lowered until the last words were a whisper, and she sat, continuing to stare at the cold metal table, shaking her head.

A knock at the door broke Manny’s concentration. A wall was breaking in her mind, and he was eager to take advantage of it. Irritated, he turned toward the door, but decided that it could wait. He had to make the most of this opportunity.

“Maureen—” he began, but another, louder knock at the door cut him off. Manny let out a grunt of frustration and stomped over to the door. “What?” he called out impatiently.

The door opened, and he was face to face with Officer Collins who jerked his head back and to the side, indicating that he wanted to talk to him out in the hall.

“A call just came in,” Collins said once he had joined him out there. He opened his mouth to continue, but hesitated.

“Spit it out,” Manny said impatiently.

“A fire was spotted in an empty field up on the north side of town. The fire department was dispatched about half an hour ago. They . . . ,” he paused again and lowered his voice. “There was a body in the flames.”

Manny felt his eyes widen but made an effort to set his jaw and stay composed. Even so, a tingle shot up his spine, and he cast an eye back toward the room where Maureen sat.

“Come with me,” he said, moving back toward the interview room. Collins followed.

Maureen raised her head as they entered the room. Their eyes met. They didn’t speak, but even so, she began to shake her head again.

“Why?” she mumbled. “Why me?”

“Collins, get your cuffs out,” he said.

“Want me to take her back to her cell?”

Maureen stopped mumbling and raised her eyes to meet his again.

“No,” said Manny. “I’m going to the crime scene.” He stared steadily back at Maureen. “And I’ll be taking Ms. Allen here with me.”

TEN

The detective’s truck bumped along the single-lane road that ran past a stretch of farmland on the outskirts of town. Maureen sat in the passenger’s seat, hands in her lap. The young cop at the station had closed the cold, steel handcuffs too tightly on her wrists. She kept looking down to see if her fingers were turning purple from a lack of circulation. So far, no. In any case, it’s not like she could slip them, so she had no choice but to endure it all for the moment.

The truck was heading north, so the sun was on Maureen’s side. Its rays, just starting to break over the tree line that formed the eastern boundary of the fields, poured into her eyes. As she looked at the fields, she felt she had been transported to another planet. She knew she was in small-town America, but the world always seemed so strange to her when homes and buildings were spread so far apart. She’d never gotten used to it in her years on the road; so much space for so few people. They couldn’t have been driving for more than ten minutes, and already up the road about a quarter mile she could see the clustering of police vehicles at the crime scene.

The gravel on the side of the road crunched loudly under the truck’s tires as the detective pulled to a stop in front of the array of law enforcement vehicles. She sat still, staring out at the sight while he slammed the truck into park, pushed open his door, and stalked around to her side. The passenger’s side door flew open and he unbuckled her seat belt before grasping her elbow to encourage her out of the car. Under any other circumstances, she would have been defiant, but it was as if she could feel the earnestness in his entire body, the nervous energy of a deep-seated fear, all concentrated in his grasp on her arm. Maureen almost felt sorry for the young detective and decided to just cooperate. For his sake.

They walked down a gentle slope for several yards