“That’s because she likesyou,” Alex emphasized that last word for Garrett’s benefit.
“Hey.” A look of hurt feelings crossed over his partner’s face. “Baker likes me.”
“Baker tolerates you. There’s a difference.”
“Whatever.” The other man gave Eden a nod. “Good luck. Holler if you need anything.”
She smiled. “Thanks, Garrett.”
Alone again, Eden glanced at the tub. “Guess we should get started.”
Still unhappy about her decision to help, Alex begrudgingly removed the container’s lid and began sorting the bags in a line on the table.
With a notebook and pen in hand, he sat across from her, watching silently as Eden made her way through the victim’s things. One by one, as a vision would hit, she’d explain to him as best she could what she was seeing.
For the next couple of hours, his pen flew across the lined paper as Alex documented the details she was able to provide. The initial visions were almost identical for each of the women.
Unspeakable terror. The feeling of being bound, unable to move their arms or legs. A gloved hand holding a shiny scalpel.
Once Eden got past those first, terrorizing images, they became more personal.
Sometimes she could see the women’s likes or dislikes. Hobbies or interests. But what seemed to be most prominent to her were the colors.
“They were all so dull. Muted greys and dark blues,” Eden explained sullenly after having gone through each item.
“What do you think that means?”
“My best guess?” She sighed. “These women felt sad. Alone. As though they had no one to turn to.”
“Makes sense.” Alex looked across the table at her. “From everything we’ve found, each of the victims kept to themselves. The jobs they had required minimal contact with other people. Those who did know them described the women as being loners.”
“What about their parents?”
Sitting back in his chair, Alex tossed his pen onto the yellow legal pad he’d been using and exhaled loudly. “Honestly? Chloe’s were the only ones who seemed to give a damn.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Wish I was.”
“That’s awful.”
Alex nodded. “It really is.”
“Did the other women’s parents say why they felt that way?”
“Not really. Some said their daughters were strange. Had been trouble-makers when they were younger and wouldn’t listen or do what they were told.”
“Maybe that’s your connection,” she suggested.
“I’d started to think that, too, until Chloe. Her parents were devastated by the news of her death. She was finishing her senior year at the University of Chicago. Double major and on the track to graduate Magna Cum Laude.”
“What about friends?”
“She was in a couple academic clubs and was an active member of her sorority.”
Eden stood, shaking her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. I got the same feeling of loneliness from her as I did the other women.”
“I’m just telling you what we know.”
