The next morning dawned bright and clear. Jewel lay in bed, feeling a set of tumblers going through her head, almost like clickety-click-click. She slowly sat upright, knowing that it was important, but she didn’t know why. She dressed quickly, walked down to the safe, and opened up the tumblers.
She reached inside, only to have Hurricane grab her hand and whisper against her ear, “Stop.”
She froze and looked up at him. “I wanted to check that they’re still there.”
He gently pulled her hand back, locked up the safe, and put the plasterboard back into position. Then he nudged her down the stairs. “It’s the pearls, the energy, calling to you.”
Downstairs, she stared up at the safe and looked back at him. “Something was calling me, but, like really important, tumblers went off in my head,” she murmured.
He stared at her and then nodded. “I’ll still put that down to energy.”
“Maybe,” she murmured. “I woke up feeling so good, so normal, and then all of this played through my head, and it felt so right.”
He smiled at her, leaned down, then pulled her into his arms and gave her a hug. She cuddled in close, only to realize that his chest was bare, and he was a furnace of warm, comforting heat. She wrapped her arms around him and just held him. They stood like that for a long moment, him gently massaging her back, his chin resting on her head.
“Will it ever be normal again?”
“It will,” he stated, his chin moving back and forth on the top of her head. “It will all go back to normal, whatever that means.”
She gave a strangled laugh. “That’s the thing isn’t it? Whatever normal means.”
He smiled. “Let me go grab some clothes. I had to bolt to stop you.” Turning away from her, he walked to his duffel bag in the corner, his huge muscled body rippling in the early morning light. He quickly pulled on his jeans and then turned back to her, T-shirt in hand. “Coffee?”
Almost dumbstruck by this male specimen of perfection in front of her, she felt an urgent need to create itching at her fingertips. She nodded, but, instead of going to the kitchen, she headed to her workbench and her sketchbook, her mind busy with a design. She quickly picked up a piece of charcoal, and her fingers moved furiously across the page, as she opened up that well in her mind and let her fingers dance across the designs pouring from her soul.
When she took a shaky breath, she took a step back and looked down. Her shirt was covered with charcoal. Her hands were covered with charcoal, and the canvas in front of her was covered with charcoal. She stared at it and then gasped.
He came up behind her, looked at it, and nodded. “Okay.” Yet his voice was soft, gentle.
She looked at him. “I came to put a design down on paper.”
He nodded and pointed to at least a half-dozen pieces off to the side, not just the single page in front of her.
Her eyes widened, and he held out a cup of coffee.
“This one’s hot,” he said, looking at the cup on the table that he’d brought her earlier, which had obviously gone stone-cold.
“How long have I been doing this?” she whispered in shock, as she took the cup from his hands, hugging the warmth close to her.
“About forty-five minutes,” he replied. “I’ve never seen anybody sketch so fast.” He picked up the latest image. “Yet you’ve caught an incredibly powerful look in her eye.”
“That’s Lana,” she stated instinctively. “Molmon.”
He pulled a pen from his pocket and a notepad from the other and wrote down the name on it. They went through them one by one—all six of her sketches of the women trapped in the pearls. Trembling, she walked over to the couch and very slowly, cautiously, sat down, feeling as if her bones were so brittle that they might break if she sat too heavily. Then, with her feet tucked up under her, she curled into the corner and hugged the coffee cup against her.
“That’s a very good thing you did,” he noted, coming over to sit down beside her. He picked up her free hand and just held it. “I can take pictures of these and see if we can get a match.”
She looked up at him, her eyes wells of pain. “They were murdered, weren’t they?”
He hesitated, then shrugged. “That is what I would presume, yes, but I don’t have any proof of that.”
She nodded. “He murdered them.”
At that, he looked at her, his intensely soft blue eyes, turning deep and sharp with electricity. “Who is he?”
“The man who sent me the necklace.”
“Does it feel like the same man?”
She frowned and then shook her head. “I don’t have anything to go by, but my gut feeling is no.”
He nodded. “Always question what you’re feeling to see it if matches with everything else that you know. Instinct is usually our best bet when it comes to this stuff.”
“What is this stuff?”
He smiled. “This is energy work, but this guy, the bracelet, the necklace, and all? It’s just the darker side of it.”
“No kidding,” she murmured. “Murdered women, their souls trapped inside pearls, who would ever have thought it? I don’t even fucking know if I’m making this all up,” she wailed.
“No, you’re not. I watched you. No time for you to make anything up. You were simply a conduit for the energy. What I don’t know is whether it’s the women calling you or their killer.”
“Either way, it’s a very disconcerting thought,” she murmured.
“It is, but one is definitely better than the other.”
She nodded in agreement. “Still, it would be nice to think that this was something I knew how to do or had some ability or had seen this before so it wasn’t so new and scary.”
“Most of us don’t get any chance to have practice runs at this stuff,” he noted gently. “It hits us when it hits us and not a whole lot you can do about it.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “That doesn’t seem fair.” His lips twitched. She shut her eyes and shook her head for a moment. “I get it. Nothing is fair.” She pivoted toward her sketches again. “They’re really good, aren’t they?”
“They’re incredible,” he stated. “I’m also grateful for the fact that you appear to have caught them in the good times of their life.”
Startled, she looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“I do know one energy worker who draws images of the dead, but she draws them as they’re dying.”
“So, she sees what’s been done to them at the time?” She stared at him in horror.
He nodded. “When you want to talk about nightmares, she has a few things to say.”
She shook her head, wordless for a few seconds. “That would be horrific.”
“It can be, yes, but she does it to be of service because she can bring closure to people.”
“How does that bring closure to anyone?” she asked, feeling bewildered.
He hesitated and then explained further, “She hunts the killers with the police, so she basically paints what’s happened, including their surroundings and anything else she can give them. Clues and pieces in order to find the killers.”
“Has she ever found anybody alive?”
A smile broke free. “She has. A couple people, which made it feel more worthwhile for her, … but it’s not easy. None of this is easy. Most of the time, people only turn to somebody like her when they’re absolutely desperate, when every other avenue has been closed off, and when it’s already too late for the victims. Therefore, all she can do is hope to bring some measure of closure to the families.”
“That sounds absolutely terrible.” Jewel shuddered. “Definitely … not something I want … ever to happen to me either.”
“In that case, you just say no. If and when something like that comes to you, you state you’re not interested, and your energy will obey,” he replied. “Don’t ever feel that you have to be a victim to this.”
She stared at him. “How was it I never even considered that I had a choice in this?”
“You always have a choice,” he declared. “You might regret it later, when you realize you could have done some good. Yet if it is not of your temperament and you don’t think you can handle the information coming in, you are under no obligation to help.”
But that felt wrong too. She stared and went back to sipping her coffee. “I can’t imagine. … I can see saving somebody and the absolute euphoria that must bring, but the rest? To know that you’re too late? That they’re already dead? I don’t think I could do that.”
“Not everybody can,” he confirmed, “and I’m not bringing it up to say that you should. All I’m saying is that, should something like that ever happen, just know you have a choice, that you can say no.”
“Good,” she murmured. “I’ll keep that in mind, just in case.”
He smiled at her. “You do that.” He took the empty coffee cup from her, which she hadn’t even realized was empty. “I’ll refill it.” He got up, poured her another cup, and brought it back. But, when he returned, he snagged up the images. “These are incredibly good. Why are you not just an artist? Why a jewelry maker?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s always been the jewelry that called me. The gems, pearls, diamonds, and all kinds of stones. Things that were valuable.”
“Ah, an interesting distinction.”
“Why?” she asked in a dry tone. “That feels very much like a judgment.”
“Absolutely not,” he disagreed. “I try to keep judgment out of my world.”
“Yeah, does that work well for you?” she asked, with a note of humor.
“Sometimes. But you are an incredible artist, so I do find it interesting. You might want to consider that energy work and that the gift of being of service is also valuable.”
She looked over at him, gave him a wry look, and frowned. “I’m not convinced.”
He chuckled. “That’s fine. At some point in time, you might change your mind.”
“Maybe.”
He stood, while she sipped her coffee, and took photos of each one of her sketches. When he was done, he texted somebody, and sent them off.
“Who did you send them to?” she asked.
“Stefan. I also don’t know if you realize it, but Stefan is quite an artist too.”
She frowned at that and then nodded. “Yes, … I did hear that. I did some research before I contacted him. I’ll bet he’s got quite a few things in his life that he would like to forget.”
“I imagine so,” Hurricane agreed. “If you think this is weird, Stefan has seen and done so many things.”
She nodded. “Did we already talk about somebody named Dr. Maddy contacting me?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, and you told me that she did a scan.”
“Yeah, she did. If we already talked about it, never mind.”
“Did it feel bad?”
“No, it felt freaking awesome. Just a little hard to understand what she was doing. She did a visual thing, but, of course, she wasn’t even here.”
He chuckled. “I know that this is all a huge learning curve for you.”
“It is, and yet, in some ways, it feels like it isn’t, and I don’t understand. I presume that my memories are affecting this—and that, at some point in time, I will figure out why and how. Still, at this moment, it’s a bit overwhelming.”
He nodded. “Having patience is huge where this is concerned.”
“Right.” She gave him a headshake. “Like anybody’s got patience for this crap.”
At that, he burst out laughing. “You’re doing great.” He pointed at her artwork. “Like, even waking up and prompted to do these drawings would freak out so many people.”
She stared at the sketches. “I certainly won’t freak out,” she murmured. “I used to do a lot of drawing, and I guess that’s probably why I stopped.”
He stared at her for a moment, not understanding.
She shrugged. “Think about somebody who doesn’t know anything about this energy stuff, then have them get up in the middle of the night and start painting images that, … that evoke feelings of such desperation and fear, with no idea where any of that was coming from. Then you might understand why I stopped.”
“Because you freaked yourself out?”
“Yeah, somehow it sounds so much worse when you say it.”
“Not at all, but, if you’ve not had anybody who does energy work in your life to help you through that, it can be a bit traumatic.”
“Traumatic, yes, and I didn’t have anybody in my life to explain any of it. I didn’t even have anybody to question, so that made life a little more complicated.”
“Of course,” he agreed in a soothing tone.
She sighed. “Somehow you don’t make it sound any better.”
He burst out laughing. “You keep acting as if you’re looking for judgment or something. I’ve seen way too many people who didn’t get nearly as far as you in this world all by themselves, and you have done amazingly well.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“A lot of people in mental institutions are simply energy workers who didn’t have any way to express all this energy clogging up their systems. Without getting the proper help they needed, they just slowly go insane. Imagine how traumatic that is for them.”
She winced. “That sounds absolutely terrifying.”
He nodded. “And, for a lot of people, it is. I mean, I’m sure you can understand that in many instances it drives people crazy.”
“You mean it literally, don’t you?”
“Yes, literally,” he agreed, with a nod. “So the fact that you’re doing as well as you are is amazing. Don’t ever judge yourself or knock yourself down over it because you are phenomenal.”
He watched as she relaxed slightly and smiled. “You’re such a good cheerleader.”
He rolled his eyes. “Somehow that doesn’t sound like anything I want to be known as.”
She burst out laughing. “Too bad. So, it’s taken me a bit, but I have slowly concluded that you are one of the good guys.”
“Yes. And that’s half the battle because sometimes, when I do what I do, it may not look like I’m one of the good guys. In fact, it may not look like I’m on your side at all. I certainly don’t want to freak you out, but sometimes these things can get really hairy.”
“Are you kidding? All of this is pretty hairy, and I would never have understood this much of it, if you didn’t explain it.”
“Still, somehow you are coping amazingly well, especially for someone who’s lost their memory.”
At the odd note in his voice, she looked at him. “And yet somehow, that tone of voice …”
“Are your memories changing?”
“No, not at all. … At least I didn’t think so.” Yet she frowned at that. “It’s all just a big jumbled mess.”
“That’s why I’m not pushing you,” he shared gently. “It’s far better to just relax, and, when something appears to deal with or to make a decision on, then you’ll handle it,” he stated. “In the meantime, just relax.”
She sagged in place. “Sure,” she muttered. “Yet, still all these dead women …” She stared at the face on the drawing closest to her. “I know they’re dead, but I don’t know how they died. I don’t think I want to know how they died, and I definitely don’t want to channel or draw how they died.”
“Agreed,” he replied immediately. “The question is, do you know who killed them? Do you remember ever feeling that energy before? If you’re supposed to be next on the list, do you have any idea how to stop it?”
She stared at him. “Next on the list? … As in, inhabiting the next pearl, right? That is absolutely beyond anything I’ve ever heard,” she said faintly. “And, no, I haven’t a clue how to stop him because I don’t know how he caught these other women in the first place.”
“I was hoping that, by seeing them, by seeing their faces, it would help you understand.”
“You mean, how he captured them?” she asked, bewildered.
“If it’s that, yes.”
“What do you mean, if it’s that?”
“If it’s capturing them, that’s the issue. See? I don’t know if …” He hesitated and then continued. “Look. Not everybody has to be right beside you in order to kill you.”
“Oh Lord,” she muttered, sinking deeper into the couch, as she stared at him. “Are you saying that somebody could kill me from wherever they are? Like sitting in their living room, sipping a beverage, somewhere across the world?”
He winced. “In theory, yes, though I’ve never encountered anybody who could do it.” Then he hesitated and added, “Well, actually I probably do know somebody, but they’re on the side of right and goodness.”
“Thank God for that,” she uttered, staring at him in shock. “Because there really should be a law against that.”
“All kinds of laws exist, but unfortunately they are intended to keep the guys in check who have little respect for authority anyway.”
“Still, what a freaky concept.”
“Of course it is,” he agreed. “So, let’s focus on this killer, assuming of course that it is just one killer?”
“Do you think more than one person is involved in this?” she cried out.
“I don’t know. I’m just casting about, looking for answers, so we can take even one step forward.”
“I don’t have any answers,” she declared faintly, then looked at him closer. “Are you really expecting me to help you?”
“For whatever reason, the pearls have ended up on your doorstep. You’ve unlocked them, and they’re trying to get closer to each other and closer to you,” he noted. “So I guess the answer to your question is yes. I’m hoping you can be of help with this.”
She just nodded and yet had no clue what she was agreeing to. “Good God, this is all just completely beyond me.”
“That just isn’t so because they are here, calling out for you, which I can only guess is a cry for help.”
She winced.
“Do you think I don’t hear them?” he asked. “I’ve muted their calls as much as I can, but they’re strong. They are very strong.”
“That’s the din in the background, isn’t it?”
He looked at her slowly and then nodded. “Yes, it is. You have to make sure that you don’t contact them.”
“It’s too late. I heard them before. I don’t remember very much about it, but I know that I could hear them.”
He grimaced at that.
“It’s already too late for me, isn’t it?”
“No. If you’re thinking that it’s too late and that you’ll die from this, you’re wrong. I won’t let that happen. You need to learn to detach yourself. Try listening without getting attached to them. Just listen and do nothing.”
“Can’t you stop it?” she asked, staring at him hopefully. “I mean, I sure don’t want to end up dead over this whole thing, but I’m already starting to feel very much like a freak.”
“Hey, way worse things than being a freak,” he stated.
“I know. I know,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just …” Then she fell silent, fearing that she might offend him.
“Look, Jewel. I know. I get it.”
“It’s just … It’s just too much, way too much.” She gave a stuttered chuckle and shook her head.
“It is, all of that and more,” he agreed.
“Obviously I want answers, and I want to have this over with, but I would like to know a whole lot more about what you do and how you do it,” she stated. “You have intrigued me into learning more about something that I’m obviously connected to and didn’t know very much about.”
“Yet I still wonder about that. And why? Because you contacted Stefan.”
“And you keep bringing that up, as if it says I’m some gifted person or something,” she argued, “when, in actuality, that has nothing to do with it.”
“If you say so,” he replied, chuckling, “but I’m not so sure about that.”
“I am,” she murmured. “Just because I made a phone call, based on some research I did, doesn’t mean I was following some energy pathway or whatever it is you want to call it. And, even if I was, so what?”
“I don’t know, but I can’t help but feel that this amnesia may have been …” Then he went silent.
“Don’t stop now,” she said in an ominous tone, shifting so she could stare directly into his face. “You feel like what? Like I’m acting? Like this is all fake or something?” she asked, with rising outrage in her voice.
“No,” he declared, his tone firm and steady. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”
“What is it then? What are you saying? Because it sure sounds as if you think I’m making this up.”
“I don’t think you’re making it up,” he stated, his tone still firm.
“What is it then?” she prodded, glaring at him. “What is it you think I’m doing here?”
He hesitated, then, with a nod, spoke freely. “I think you’re protecting yourself. I just don’t know how much you know about what you’re doing. Like how much you’re doing consciously and how much you’re doing subconsciously.”
“Or how much is being done to me? Isn’t that what you really mean?”
He searched her gaze, as if looking for something inside her, and then nodded. “Yes, that last thought occurred to me as well.”
“But Dr. Maddy already told me that she found no sign of possession,” she muttered. “So that still leads back to your thinking I’m just making it up, no matter how you disguise it with your unconscious and subconscious mumbo jumbo.”
“No, I don’t think that at all,” he disagreed, his tone firm and hard. “But, as I said, I’m not exactly sure what’s going on. I just know that something is.”
“Are you ever wrong?” she asked, as she sank back onto the couch cushions, now looking at him with a fatigue and a weariness that reached deep into her soul.
“Sure I am. … Sometimes. Just not very often.”
“Of course not,” she murmured. “That would be way too easy.”
“Nothing is easy about it. Being wrong in my work can be really hard, with terrible consequences. Being wrong can mean lives are lost.”
She stared at him. “We’re back to that danger again, aren’t we?”
“Yes, we are. We can’t minimize the potential of this situation, and I don’t want you to take anything for granted. I don’t want you to take any messages, any voices, or anything else for granted because it could very well be the last thing you do.”
“Or else?”
“Yes, or else,” he snapped. “Or else you could end up being the next soul in a pearl and the next pearl on that string of tears.”