Out Of The Darkness. Heather Graham
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“Just don’t do it again! Ever!” Sarah said, horrified.
She looked at Tyler. “I’m so sorry. I never would have twisted your arm, made you come here. I mean, it was on national news, you’d hear about it, but...”
“I need to be here,” Tyler said softly. “Davey is right. I’ve got some things to do. I’ll be back with you later. We may need help from your friend.”
“Kieran,” she said. “Kieran Finnegan. And she’s living with a man named Craig Frasier. He’s—he’s great. I don’t know if the FBI will be investigating this, but...”
“We’ll talk to him.”
He wanted to hold her. To pull her to him. But she was already trying to back away. She hadn’t done it—hadn’t contacted him. Davey had. And Tyler needed to remember that.
“I’ll be in touch later tonight,” he said.
He didn’t hug her goodbye. But as he went to the door, Davey raced to him. “I’m sorry, Tyler. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, buddy, it’s okay. You’re right. I need to be here. The police might already have a lead on this madman, okay? But I’ll be here.”
He nodded to Renee and Sarah, then headed out of the house. He imagined Sarah might follow him, tell him that the years had been wasted for her, too, that she knew, just seeing him again, that...
Didn’t happen.
He drove into the city and checked himself—and his car, which was as expensive to park as booking another room!—into his hotel. He had barely reached his suite before his phone rang.
And this time, it was actually Sarah.
“Tyler,” she said excitedly. “We’re in!”
“What?”
“This makes me feel worse than ever, but...I just got a call from a lawyer. Tyler, Hannah left a will. She has me listed as next of kin. She didn’t have much money—barely enough for her funeral,” Sarah said softly. “But that means that I can hire you, that it can all be legitimate, right?”
“I can work the case—even work it as if you’ve hired me. That’s not the point. I have to form some relationships, step carefully, keep in with the police. We need everyone working together.”
“But I am next of kin. You will stay, you will—”
“I will stay,” he promised her softly.
And a moment later, he heard her whisper, “Thank you. Thank you!”
And then...
“Tyler?”
“Yes?”
“I am so sorry. I don’t know why...I lost everyone. I should have been her friend. I really should have been her friend.”
He didn’t know what to say.
“Time doesn’t change things like that. You were her friend. And...you’re still my friend, Sarah. I still love you. I will see this through, I promise.”
And he hung up before she could say anything else.
“Survivor’s guilt,” Kieran Finnegan said softly.
Kieran was a good friend. While the hectic pace of her life—she worked as a psychologist for a pair of psychiatrists who worked frequently with the police, FBI and other law enforcement agencies, and helped out at the family pub—often kept her in a whirlwind where she didn’t see much of her friends, she was the kind of person who was always there when she was needed.
Sarah had called her that morning.
It was Sunday noon. Hannah’s body had been discovered the morning before; last night, Tyler had come to Aunt Renee’s house.
And while Finnegan’s on Broadway was doing a sound weekend business—they had a traditional roast entrée every Sunday that was very popular—Kieran was sitting down with Sarah. Of course, Finnegan’s was in good shape that day as far as staff went, and since Sarah had once worked there, she could probably hop back in to help at any time herself, just as Kieran would do if the need arose.
Kieran had assured Sarah she would be there to spend some time with her, talk to her. As a very good friend would do.
That made Sarah feel all the worse about the lousy friend she had been herself.
“Survivor’s guilt?” she repeated, shaking her head. “Honestly, I don’t think so. I mean, what happened years ago...all of us survived. We survived because of Davey, though, honestly...some of the guff he had to take afterward! People wanted to know what kind of a medium or seer he was. ‘Down Syndrome Boy Sees Evil.’” She was quiet for a minute. “Well, I have to admit, I was young and easily irritated, and Hannah...” She bit her lip and shrugged. “I was annoyed. She liked to have Davey around for the publicity, but then wanted me to leave him home if we were going out for the night or clubbing. She would use him when it seemed he was drawing a lot of attention, and then be irritated if we were spending any real time with him. But now...”
“From what I’ve gleaned through the media, her murder was brutal,” Kieran murmured. “And far too similar to the method of the massacre at the theme park. Here’s the thing. You’re experiencing terrible guilt because Hannah is dead, and she was your friend—even it was a while ago. You both survived something horribly traumatic. But now she is dead. And you are alive. And all that happened before is rushing back. But, Sarah, you’re not guilty of anything. Hannah survived that night—along with your other friends—because of Davey. You felt protective of Davey. That was only right. So quit feeling guilty. Hannah did choose to live a dangerous lifestyle. That doesn’t mean what was done to her isn’t every bit as horrid and criminal. But she may have put herself in danger. You have done nothing wrong. Of course, you could learn to be a bit more open to the possibility there are good people out there, and good things just might happen—and most of your friends truly love Davey.”
Sarah leaned back and picked up her coffee cup, grinning. “Do I have a really big chip on my shoulder? I’m not sure whether I should enter therapy or say ten Hail Marys!”
“Do both!” Kieran suggested with a shrug. She let out a sigh. “Sarah, if you weren’t really upset, you wouldn’t be human, and I’d have to worry about you. Or rather, you would be a sociopath and I would have to worry about you.” She shook her head. “Craig was saying that it was uncanny—the remarkable resemblance to what happened before.” She hesitated. “In the actual killing, that is. Archibald Lemming found himself an amazing venue in which to carry out his bloodlust—what better than a haunted house? But it isn’t him.”
“It could be someone who studied him or knew him.”
“Possibly.”
“And someone like that doesn’t stop, right?” Sarah asked.
“No,” Kieran admitted unhappily. “When such a killer isn’t caught and the killing stops, it’s usually because he’s moved on, been incarcerated for another crime or he died. This kind of thing...”
“It’s not just someone who wanted Hannah dead?”
“I doubt it. What was done was overkill. Now, overkill can mean just the opposite. You see it with victims who are stabbed or bludgeoned over and over again—their killer was furious with them. Or sometimes, with someone else—and the victim they choose is the substitute for the one they want to kill. But again, remember I’m going from what was in the news. The way that this was done...”
“You think there will be more victims.”
Kieran was thoughtful. “Yes—if we’re talking a copycat killer who