Page 63
Story: In Her Eyes
“What’s her name?”
“Victoria. Victoria Welsh.”
I call to her in my mind.Talk to me, Victoria. Help me find you.“She’s hurt. She’s on the edge of the trail. Other runners pass by. She pulls herself off the trail and sits to the side. Someone checks on her, a woman, but she waves her away, says she’s fine, just needs to catch her breath.”
I move my body on the floor the same way she moved hers. “Someone else stops and squats in front of her. I don’t think he’s a runner. I don’t see a number tag on his shirt. She knows him. She’s comfortable with him. He helps her up. The tube of lipstick falls out of her pocket. Red lipstick. She always races in red lipstick. It makes her feel powerful.”
I open my eyes. “It’s the same man I saw before in my other readings.”
His eyes widen. “Did you see his face?” There’s so much eagerness in Jake’s voice.
“No. Just his hands when he helped her up. Same scar. I’m starting to recognize his energy, but it’s odd. Sometimes it changes.”
Jake rubs his chin. “I don’t understand. How can you recognize something like that, and how does it change?”
“It’s hard to explain. Energy has an imprint.”
He frowns. “An imprint?”
How can I explain it better? How can I put in words something so wholly intangible? “Like a . . . scent. Like when someone wears the same perfume all the time, and you can recognize it. Sometimes the smell is stronger because they just put it on, sometimes softer because it’s been a few hours, and sometimes it changes because that person is sweating, but you can still detect that faint smell.”
He nods slowly. His forehead creases as he tries to process what I’m saying.
I put the lipstick bag back on the table. “Was the lipstick found near a trail?”
“Yes. There was a marathon. A First-Day-of-Spring marathon. When the race ended and she didn’t appear, her husband, who was waiting for her at the finish line, reported her missing.”
“First day of spring? That’s March twenty. It’s been four months then.”
“Yes. And when it went public, a woman came forward and reported seeing her fall and sit on the side of the trail. That’s where we found the lipstick. The husband confirmed it was hers.”
“No one else saw what happened?”
“No, we had dozens of volunteers search the park but found nothing. Got a rescue dog to come in, but there was a huge storm later in the day, and whatever scent was there got dispersed.”
“Dispersed?”
“Light rain and moisture are optimal for scent tracking. Dry, hot days make it more difficult. But with heavy rains, the scent disperses, gets moved around with the water and wind, making it more difficult for a dog to track it.”
“I didn’t know that.” I run a hand through my hair. I’m so frustrated with myself. Why can’t I see more? See his damned face. An urge to leave the room tugs at me like a tethered string to my chest and I need to follow it. “Take me to the place where you found the lipstick.”
He glances at the table and back at me. The silent question is clear in his gaze.
“Now. We need to go right now.”
Chapter30
Avalon
We walk side by side.The gravel crunching under our feet gradually turns into dirt and muffles the sounds of our steps. All around us, a symphony of forest sound soars. Birds chirp, and insects buzz in the distant background, the gurgle of water a constant melody. Cool wind rustles in the trees. The temperature drops under their canopy. The deeper we get into the forest, the denser the foliage becomes. Sun dapples the uneven ground here and there, wherever it can find a break between the branches, leaves, and evergreens. The forest closes in on me. That pull in my chest is like a compass directing my steps.
The air is rich with the scent of pine and earth. But underneath it all, the stench of death reaches me every so often, carried by the breeze. My insides twist.
I stop. “Can you smell it?”
Jake turns. A nod is his only response. He gives me his hand. I step closer and take it. His fingers lace with mine, and his touch settles the unease in my stomach by a fraction.
We’re not near the marathon trail. There’s no footpath in this part of the forest, but here and there natural trails appear, with clear deer tracks in the mud. I open my senses.
“Victoria. Victoria Welsh.”
I call to her in my mind.Talk to me, Victoria. Help me find you.“She’s hurt. She’s on the edge of the trail. Other runners pass by. She pulls herself off the trail and sits to the side. Someone checks on her, a woman, but she waves her away, says she’s fine, just needs to catch her breath.”
I move my body on the floor the same way she moved hers. “Someone else stops and squats in front of her. I don’t think he’s a runner. I don’t see a number tag on his shirt. She knows him. She’s comfortable with him. He helps her up. The tube of lipstick falls out of her pocket. Red lipstick. She always races in red lipstick. It makes her feel powerful.”
I open my eyes. “It’s the same man I saw before in my other readings.”
His eyes widen. “Did you see his face?” There’s so much eagerness in Jake’s voice.
“No. Just his hands when he helped her up. Same scar. I’m starting to recognize his energy, but it’s odd. Sometimes it changes.”
Jake rubs his chin. “I don’t understand. How can you recognize something like that, and how does it change?”
“It’s hard to explain. Energy has an imprint.”
He frowns. “An imprint?”
How can I explain it better? How can I put in words something so wholly intangible? “Like a . . . scent. Like when someone wears the same perfume all the time, and you can recognize it. Sometimes the smell is stronger because they just put it on, sometimes softer because it’s been a few hours, and sometimes it changes because that person is sweating, but you can still detect that faint smell.”
He nods slowly. His forehead creases as he tries to process what I’m saying.
I put the lipstick bag back on the table. “Was the lipstick found near a trail?”
“Yes. There was a marathon. A First-Day-of-Spring marathon. When the race ended and she didn’t appear, her husband, who was waiting for her at the finish line, reported her missing.”
“First day of spring? That’s March twenty. It’s been four months then.”
“Yes. And when it went public, a woman came forward and reported seeing her fall and sit on the side of the trail. That’s where we found the lipstick. The husband confirmed it was hers.”
“No one else saw what happened?”
“No, we had dozens of volunteers search the park but found nothing. Got a rescue dog to come in, but there was a huge storm later in the day, and whatever scent was there got dispersed.”
“Dispersed?”
“Light rain and moisture are optimal for scent tracking. Dry, hot days make it more difficult. But with heavy rains, the scent disperses, gets moved around with the water and wind, making it more difficult for a dog to track it.”
“I didn’t know that.” I run a hand through my hair. I’m so frustrated with myself. Why can’t I see more? See his damned face. An urge to leave the room tugs at me like a tethered string to my chest and I need to follow it. “Take me to the place where you found the lipstick.”
He glances at the table and back at me. The silent question is clear in his gaze.
“Now. We need to go right now.”
Chapter30
Avalon
We walk side by side.The gravel crunching under our feet gradually turns into dirt and muffles the sounds of our steps. All around us, a symphony of forest sound soars. Birds chirp, and insects buzz in the distant background, the gurgle of water a constant melody. Cool wind rustles in the trees. The temperature drops under their canopy. The deeper we get into the forest, the denser the foliage becomes. Sun dapples the uneven ground here and there, wherever it can find a break between the branches, leaves, and evergreens. The forest closes in on me. That pull in my chest is like a compass directing my steps.
The air is rich with the scent of pine and earth. But underneath it all, the stench of death reaches me every so often, carried by the breeze. My insides twist.
I stop. “Can you smell it?”
Jake turns. A nod is his only response. He gives me his hand. I step closer and take it. His fingers lace with mine, and his touch settles the unease in my stomach by a fraction.
We’re not near the marathon trail. There’s no footpath in this part of the forest, but here and there natural trails appear, with clear deer tracks in the mud. I open my senses.
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