They’d not only provided a stable home for her on their ranch in Wyoming, but they’d offered her protection from a world that was insatiably curious about the only survivor of the Newton Slayer.
Now, however, she wished her foster mother would dial back on the fussing.
“You think I wouldn’t have found out?” Katherine demanded.
Annie grimaced. She tried to ignore the fact that while she’d moved away from the ranch, her parents continued to monitor her on a daily basis.
Not only by their nightly calls, but by speaking with her boss, Mr. Anderson, who happened to be a personal friend of her foster father.
They only wanted to make sure she was safe.
“I don’t want you to worry,” Annie said.
Katherine waved a hand toward her open suitcase. “Then reconsider this rash trip.”
Annie moved into the bathroom, collecting her toiletries as she struggled to smooth her features into an unreadable mask.
Overall, her foster parents had been supportive. They’d urged her to discuss her past with them as well as with a trained therapist. They’d even allowed her to keep a picture of her father beside her bed, despite the devastation he’d caused. But the one thing they refused to accept was her claim that she’d seen visions of the murders as they’d happened.
And they weren’t alone.
No one believed the strange images that had plagued her were anything more than a figment of her overactive imagination.
Over the years, Annie had tried to convince herself they were right. It was insane to think they’d been psychically connected to her father while he was committing the murders.
Right?
Then two nights ago the visions returned.
The images had been fragmented. A woman screaming. A dark, cramped space. The shimmer of a knife blade in the moonlight. Newton’s town square.
Annie didn’t even try to deny the visions.
Either she was losing her mind. Or they were real.
The only way to know was to return to the town and confront her nightmares.
“It isn’t rash,” she said as she returned to the living room.
“I’ve given it a great deal of thought.”
Katherine made a sound of impatience. “But what about your position at Anderson’s?”
“It’s possible they’ll hold my job for me,” Annie said, mentally crossing her fingers.
It wasn’t a total lie.
Her supervisor had said they might consider rehiring her when she returned.
“Do you realize how many strings Philip had to pull to get you a place at such a prestigious firm?” Katherine demanded, clearly not appeased. “In this economy it’s almost impossible to find anything that isn’t entry level.”
Annie turned to take her foster mother’s hands. She knew she should feel bad about leaving her position. It was what she’d trained to do, wasn’t it?
“And I appreciate everything he’s done for me,” she assured the older woman. “That you’ve both done for me.”
Katherine clicked her tongue. “If that was true you wouldn’t be tossing it all away on this harebrained scheme.”
“I get that you don’t understand, but it’s something I have to do.”
Katherine pulled her hands free, clearly frustrated by Annie’s rare refusal to concede to her stronger will. “Nothing can change the past,” she snapped.
Annie turned, unnecessarily smoothing the jeans she’d placed in the suitcase.
This wasn’t about the past. The visions weren’t memories. They were glimpses of the present.
“I know that,” she murmured.
“Do you?” Katherine pressed.
“Of course.”
There was a long silence, as if the older woman was considering the best means of attack.
Katherine Roberts was a wonderful woman, but she was a master of manipulation.
“Is this because it’s the anniversary of the deaths?” she at last demanded.
The thought had crossed Annie’s mind. Within a few days it would be exactly fifteen years since the killings started.
Who could blame her for being plagued with hallucinations?
But her heart told her it was more than that.
“I don’t think so,” she hedged.
Katherine pressed her hands together. A certain sign that she was trying to maintain her temper. “Maybe you should talk with your therapist.”
“No.”
“But—”
“I don’t need a therapist,” Annie said, her voice uncharacteristically hard.
What was going on in her head couldn’t be cured by sitting in a room and talking.
She had to go see for herself.
Seeming to realize she couldn’t badger Annie into giving up her plans, Katherine glared at her with an annoyance that didn’t entirely disguise her concern. “What do you hope to find?”
Annie flinched.
It was a question she didn’t want to consider.
Not when the answer meant she was out of her mind. Or worse, that there was a killer on the loose.
“I just need to know that . . .” Her words trailed away.
“What?”
“That it’s over,” she breathed. “Really and truly over.” A shocked expression widened Katherine’s eyes. “What are you talking about? Of course it’s over. Your father . . .” The older woman hastily crossed herself, as if warding off an evil spirit. “God forgive him, is dead. What more proof do you need?”
Annie shook her head. “I can’t explain.”
Reaching out, Katherine placed her hand on Annie’s arm, her expression anxious. “Do you know how many nights I woke to hear you screaming?”
Annie bit her lower lip. No one could have been more patient over the years as Annie had struggled to heal from the trauma she’d endured.
The last thing she wanted was to cause Katherine or Philip even more concern.
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh Annie.” Katherine pulled her into her arms, wrapping her in the familiar scent of Chanel No. 5. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I just don’t want the nightmares to come back.”
“They already have,” Annie whispered, laying her head on her foster mother’s shoulder. “That’s why I have to go.”
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 2015 by Debbie Raleigh
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ISBN: 978-1-4201-2517-7
eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-3738-5
eISBN-10: 1-4201-3738-7
Alexandra Ivy, When Darkness Ends
(Series: Guardians of Eternity # 12)
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