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Teaser
“Wake up, Nick, wake up.” Claudia shook him again.
Nick groaned. His head hurt as lights flashed to the rhythm of the pounding in his head. Had he missed his shift again? “Claudia?” His voice sounded strange to his ears.
“Come on Nick.” The shaking increased in intensity. Nick’s brain did not appreciate this. Why did Claudia have to act like his mother? Wait a minute, this didn’t make sense. Claudia had died, shot by a renegade cop in a misguided attempt to save Amanda’s life. Amanda, who did not need anyone to take a bullet for her. He could still feel her still form in his arms as Amanda had revived. A noble act but absolutely unnecessary considering Amanda was an immortal.
So who was shaking him, if Claudia had been dead for over ten years? The lights slowed as the pounding softened. “Hang on. I’ll be right back.” Claudia’s voice deepened, became indistinct.
Rolling over to his side, Nick struggled to sit up, but as soon as he managed to get upright, his head swam, and he fell back. He rested briefly, and tried again. Leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, he stabilized his head with his hands, holding on to stop the spinning, concentrating on not being sick.
Claudia’s voice returned, spiraling higher until words turned into babbling, then a ringing. Ringing. That was his phone. If he didn’t move his head, he might not lose his lunch. Lifting the phone to his ear, he tried to speak but it came out as a grunt.
“Where the hell are you?” Bert’s voice boomed over the connection. Nick winced and held the phone away from his ear.
Clearing his throat, he tried real words. “I honestly don’t know.”
“Have you been drinking? I was counting on you, Nick. You were supposed to meet me at the museum half an hour ago.”
“Bert, I have no idea where I am or how I got here.”
Sensing true confusion in his friend’s voice, Bert relented. “Well, look around. Are you alone? A lovely woman perhaps?”
“I hope I’d remember that,” Nick held the phone away from his ear as Bert laughed. His eyes widened in horror at the sight of his hand. Looking down, he saw his other hand and shirt, also covered in blood. His head clearing, he looked at his surroundings again, as memories flooded back.
From far below sirens whined closer, their noise cutting clearly above the muted sounds of traffic far below. The room came into focus as his mind cleared as it worked on his dilemma. Slowly he lifted the phone back to his ear. “I knew it was a mistake to come back here. I’m in Amanda’s pent house and you might want to come over.” Before his friend and boss could answer, he cut the connection and stared at the blood on his hands and shirt.
Stumbling slightly, he got to his feet, his head beginning to clear. Amanda’s bedroom looked as if she were living here again. He looked around briefly at the pillows, the comforter with his imprint on it before going through the open double doors. The furniture was rearranged but it was the slight body on the floor which horrified Nick.
“No,” he wailed, falling to his knees and gathering the still form into his arms. “No, no, no!” He rocked back and forth.
The police did not bother with the niceties of knocking or door bells. Bursting through the door, guns ready, six of the city’s finest honed in on the two on the floor. “Move away from the body!” yelled one.
Immediately another ordered, “On the ground, hands above your head!” Seeing he was unarmed, they inched closer.
Nick ignored them, wishing for the bullets to end his pain, even temporarily, but his head and body were still not obeying his commands. On a normal day, he would have fought and probably won, but today he was not himself. Soon he was on the floor, one officer with his knee on his back. Cuffed, he was hauled to his knees, then his feet, read his rights and charged with the murder of Lucy Becker.
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