But it was only his fist, again and again, while he fell atop her, knees on either side, groin grinding against hers, his free hand tearing at her spandex running pants, his white sneakers bright in the darkness.
Rapist! No. Fight, fight him. Don’t let him–
She used her hands, pounding at her invisible attacker, clawing at his eyes, and kicking her feet, though they hit nothing. It was as if he couldn’t feel any impact, and with a few more of his blows to her face, she was fighting just to remain conscious.
Megan felt it all. The panic, the fear, the pain of every blow, the hot blood oozing into her left eye and burning there, the weight of him, the smell of his breath. She screamed.
“Hey, hey, come on, talk to me now!”
She opened her eyes, found she was lying on her back a few feet from where the victim lay. Paramedics surrounded the wounded girl. One was leaning over Megan, looking at her as if he thought she might be another victim. Beyond him lights flashed red and white in the darkness, painting everything in alternating strokes of color. She drew a breath and pushed herself up into a sitting position. “I’m okay. I was helping her, and I thought I heard him. I just panicked and, uh, I fell.”
The medic frowned, but then Sam was there, moving the man aside, crouching down and clasping her shoulders, looking at her with worry in his eyes. “What happened?”
“The usual,” she said, holding his upper arms for support. He pulled her to her feet, but she didn’t let go when she got her balance. If anything, she wanted more contact. To be wrapped up in him completely would be a good start.
“Did you get the guy?” she asked.
“No, he took off in what looked like an SUV. It was too damn far away and too dark for me to get a description, much less a plate number.” He shook his head, leading her aside, away from the others. As he did, he slipped an arm around her shoulders and held her close to his side.
Better, she thought.
“You got another flash?”
“Man, did I. That poor woman is hurting. I think her cheekbone is broken, maybe her jaw, too, by the way it felt when he hit me. Hit her, I mean.”
He stopped walking, frowned down at her. “You...felt it?”
She nodded. “As if it were happening to me. God, I’ve never felt that kind of fear in my life.” She watched the medics lift the gurney and carry the woman to the clearing where the ambulance waited. “At least he didn’t rape her.”
“He didn’t? You’re sure?”
She nodded. Other cops were arriving, securing the scene, stringing yellow tape. One carried a camera and began flashing photos.
Sam gripped her upper arm, suddenly animated. “Meg, I don’t suppose you...” He bit his lip.
“What?”
“Did you see him? In the vision, did you get a look at him?”
She thought back. “I was too scared to try. It was happening so fast, you know? I was being pummeled, trying to avoid the blows, trying to cover my face and hit back.” She narrowed her eyes, remembering the experience. “I think there were times when I could have glimpsed his face. I just wasn’t thinking clearly enough to try. And I think he might have been wearing a mask of some sort.”
He sighed. “That’s all right.”
“We have to get her address, Sam.”
He looked at her, frowning as if confused.
She shrugged. “You know me. The most useful piece of information I got from touching that poor woman is that there’s no one to go to her house and feed her cat. She was thinking that, as she lay there. ‘If he kills me, how long before someone knows I’m dead and goes to my apartment to take care of Roderick? Will he starve to death in the meantime?’”
“I’ll see to it the cat is taken care of,” Sam told her.
She smiled a little. “I doubt he’d starve. He’s pretty overweight anyway.”
Sam stared at her. “Don’t tell me. You can describe the cat?”
She lowered her eyes. “Maybe it’s because I have a cat of my own. Slender little gray tabby. Hers is big, long-haired, buff-colored, with one green eye and one blue.”
“You’re incredible,” he said softly.
“Just not very helpful,” she replied.
He swallowed hard. “You saved that girl’s life.”
“You did that.”
“You knew the rapist was in the park.”
“So did you, the second you heard her scream.”
He shrugged. “So we were both instrumental. The fact is, we have a survivor now. If she got a look at him, we might finally have a description of our boy.”
“I don’t think she did, though. But...I hope you’re right.”
“Look, I have to go to the hospital.” He clasped her shoulders, studying her face, really searching her eyes. He looked at her more deeply, more thoroughly than anyone had ever bothered looking before. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m okay. You have a job to do. I’m fine.”
“I’ll take you home on the way to the hospital, all right?”
She shook her head left then right. “Sure...but...it’s just, I thought you wanted my help on this case.”
“I do, but–”
“Then why not take me to the hospital with you?”
Sam seemed to consider that, then shook his head with real regret in his eyes. “The chief would never get it. He still thinks.... Not tonight, okay? I’ll take you sometime when the place isn’t crawling with cops.”
By now they were nearing the restaurant and his waiting car. He flicked a button on the key ring, and the locks opened. Then he opened her door for her. She got in, then he did, and he started the engine, then paused.
“What was the second thing?” he asked
“What?”
“When I was kissing you in the park–”
She smiled just a little, the warmth of that memory chasing away the chill that had settled over her.
“–you got that vision, and I asked you what it was. You said, two things, the killer being the most important one. What was the other?”
She lifted her brows as the warmth left her in a rush. “Oh. That.” She looked him dead in the eye. “It was the clear message that you’re still keeping things from me. Important things.” She shrugged. “Go figure.”
Of course he denied it all the way back to her house, tried to cover it, but she knew. She’d felt it clearly when he kissed her. It was lurking beneath the real passion and heat that rose between them. There was a reason he was kissing her, a reason he was even with her at that moment, and that reason was not the one he was trying to make her believe.
He didn’t want to date her, and he didn’t believe in her visions.
She sighed, disappointed. It didn’t matter. She had to stick with him, see this thing through, because she, too, had reasons for being with him.
The dreams.
Besides, there was something about him. Something she liked. Not the lying, though. She didn’t like that at all. At least he didn’t seem like any sort of a threat to her. He’d even given her a card with his cell phone number on it, in case she needed him, he said.
Megan dropped her coat on the back of the sofa and kicked off her shoes, belatedly realizing she still wore the borrowed flip-flops. Her pumps were in Sam’s car. She sank into her favorite chair, and Percy jumped into her lap, nuzzled her chin. She petted her cat, thinking of the other woman, and her pet at home alone. “What do you suppose that man’s keeping from me, Percy?” she asked.