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DETECTIVE GRACE HUTCHERSON, Hutch to most, tried to convince her boyfriend, Mike, into joining her on a morning run, but he laughed at her. He informed her she was crazy if she thought he would get out of bed to sweat. He even suggested that she come back to bed, and he would give her a personal workout. While the offer was tempting, if she wanted to keep her body fit and toned, she had to stick to her routine and not miss too many days. She tried to run every day, but her line of work didn’t always make that possible, so she must take advantage of the days when she could run outside. Today was one of those days, so she left the apartment at five o’clock for her morning run.
Typically, her morning run lasted forty-five minutes. During those forty-five minutes, she prepared herself for the day ahead. Most of her days were hectic and nerve-racking. The first mile of the run was her warm up, and it usually took her that long to find her rhythm. She preferred jogging here instead of on the River Walk; she enjoyed the smells that emitted from the local businesses. There was something relaxing to her as she took in the smell of the coffee, the beignets being cooked and the murky water of the Mississippi River.
This morning she wore her white nylon shorts and a bright pink tank top, both showed off her nicely tanned body. She checked the weather before heading out this morning. Today would be in the high eighties, but by tomorrow, a cold front would be moving in, and the temperatures would once again drop. Only in Louisiana could it be eighty degrees one minute and then drop fifty degrees before the sun went down.
Her movements were always graceful and smooth when she ran. It was quiet out this morning. She took the time to enjoy the solitude. As she made it to her halfway point, dawn was breaking. Eager to get back home to see Mike, she picked up her pace. Perhaps he was still up to a little loving before heading to work. When she made it back home, the coffee should be finished. She loved walking into the house and smelling the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
The wind picked up from the river. The breeze was more than welcome. The run helped her work up a good sweat this morning. She needed to work off the extra calories from last night’s meal, along with the dessert. The creamy deliciousness of the bread pudding with amaretto sauce was worth it though.
It was muggier than normal this morning. As much as she loved living in Louisiana, there was something wrong with wearing shorts for Christmas. Come summer, the oppressive heat was always miserable. With winter here, you never knew if you would be bundled up or wearing shorts. Some days it would be bitterly cold when you woke up and by the afternoon you wished for the cold once more.
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HUTCH FELT THE VISION closing in on her while in the shower. She closed her eyes tightly and then opened them once more, hoping the image disappeared, but the apparition was still standing in front of her, just standing there. When she first saw the spirit, it scared her more than any of the other visions. This woman standing in front of her was missing her eyes and more than likely her tongue. She didn’t want to stare too long, but the woman appeared to have blood streaking down her cheeks to her chin.
Once again, Hutch cursed the vampire they’d killed. Ever since running into him at the carnival, it seemed that he’d opened a door she would prefer to have left closed. Unlike her other family members who had this gift, she had limited capabilities of her family’s gift. In the past, Hutch could only read a scene after someone died there, depending on the energy left behind by the death. Ever since her run in with the vampire and the carnival, her gift was more prominent. It was like the floodgates opened and all hope of normalcy left with that opening. Now, it seemed as if ghosts sought her out, asking for her help in finding peace so they could move on.
From the looks of the latest ghost, she appeared to be the victim of a vicious murder. A shudder wracked through Hutch’s body as she envisioned what this poor woman went through in death. Since the woman couldn’t talk, Hutch had no idea when she died or even who did this to her. She was unsure if the murder happened recently or years ago. By the looks of her outfit, the woman was killed recently though. Before Hutch could ask the woman any questions, she disappeared as quickly as she appeared.
She let out a sigh. She would have to check the latest missing persons’ reports filed. This new gift was turning into a curse. Some days all she saw was a faint coloration in the air, but other days she saw the dead as if they were standing right next to her.
When this first happened, the hair on her body would stand on end, but now, she was becoming used to it. When the visions of the past mingled with those of the recently departed, it caused her problems. Those killed decades or centuries ago were much harder to help move on. Some nights her dreams took her to times and places completely unknown to her.