When Darkness Falls(47)

“It doesn’t fit,” she said. “For one thing, your psychiatrist never said you might be dangerous.”

“I only saw her a few times.”

“But you told her about your dreams.”

“Before I made the connection with the news reports.”

“So? She practices in the city. She must have heard about the murders, too, and she never made a connection. Never considered that you might be the perpetrator. If she thought you were, she’d have had a duty to report you to the police.” Haley remembered that from her Law and Psychiatric Issues class. “Where did the latest murder happen?”

“Around 3200 North Harlem,” Devon said.

“That’s miles from us. You couldn’t have walked all that way.”

“Murderers take cabs.”

Haley shivered, remembering Jacinda saying something similar about the early attacks. But she reached across the table and gripped Devon’s arm. “I’m serious. If one part of your dream doesn’t fit, can’t be real, why think the rest is? That almost flying thing can’t be real. You shouldn’t take the whole dream or memory or whatever as automatically being right.”

“But how did I know, why did I dream of killing a woman exactly the way that woman was killed?”

“Because you’d heard about the other murders by strangulation. And I remember the reports where there were two in one night. They were so far apart, there’s no way you could have been at both.”

“Somebody was.”

“Somebody who drives. And that was the weekend Al had our car. Remember? His was in the shop.”

“So you researched them,” Devon said.

Her hands felt cold. She hadn’t meant to reveal that, to show how much he’d shaken her. “Because I’m worried about you. Not because I thought you did it.”

“I could have stolen a car, too.”

“You don’t dream about car stealing. And there was nothing about a stolen car in the news reports.”

Devon poked the lime in his seltzer water with his straw, squeezing more juice out of it. Haley wound her fingers together under the table. There was something more, something Devon wasn’t telling her.

“Why are you so ready to believe you did these things?” she said.





Chapter Twenty-Three


Devon drank more water. It tasted acidic from the lime. He took a breath and let it out slowly. “Lydia says she made me into something that’s not human. That I’m more than human now. I’m different. I’ve become a different creature.”

Haley blinked. “Creature?”

“Like a vampire, but not.”

Haley’s face had gone pale. “Of course not. Vampires aren’t real.”

“But I—she and I—feed on violence and fear and blood is part of it, but mostly it’s the violence. Overpowering someone. Using force. That’s what Lydia says.”

He tried to explain the points Lydia had made, the way each piece clicked in his mind, but it clearly wasn’t clicking with Haley. Which could be because he couldn’t bring himself to tell her about one very big piece of the puzzle—his dream-that-might-not-have-been-a-dream sex with Lydia and the way she’d known about it. But that wouldn’t convince her, either, just make her wonder if he’d really slept with Lydia.

He told Haley about the knife and how fast Lydia had healed her cut.

Haley shook her head. “That could be a trick. Like magicians do.”

“But she stabbed me too.”

“There must be a way to fake that.”

“How I felt when she did it?”

“Some kind of topical drug maybe,” Haley said.

“But why? Why would she do all that?”

“She’s sick. She knows about your problems and she’s playing on your fears.”

“Some of it fits, Haley.”

“Then you should get professional help. If you don’t like Richardson, we’ll find someone else. What can Lydia tell you that will make any difference?”

“I don’t know.” Devon took Haley’s hand. Her fingers felt cool against his palm. “But I need to find out. It’s a lot to ask, but please trust me.”

The waiter approached, and Devon gestured him away.

“I will, but I’m staying, too,” Haley said.

“You can’t.”

“I want to be here for you.”

Devon tightened his grip on her hand. “No. Promise me you’ll check out of the hotel tomorrow and go home. Promise.”

“We don’t have to stay together,” she said. “I’ll go somewhere else.”

“Please.”

Haley’s chin jutted out. Her fingernails bit into his palm. “Then I don’t want you staying with Lydia.”

“I’m not alone with her,” he said. “She’s got a man living with her.”

“I don’t care. I’m sure she’ll get rid of him now that you’re here.”

“All right,” Devon said. “I’ll get my things, find another place to stay. Tonight. And you’ll check out tomorrow? And call me when you’re back home?”

She nodded. “I’ll check out tomorrow.”