Of That Day and Hour: A psychological thriller Read online

  “Excuse me; I won’t be a moment.” Aimee walks across the room and answers the door; a muffled male voice is heard in conversation. Eve turns to Jeff.

  “What do you make of this?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It was today’s date.”

  “It can be faked.”

  “How?” Eve knows he’s in denial. “Casey didn’t even know we were coming here, and he’s not permitted contact with the outside world.”

  Speechlessly Jeff s raises his hands. Aimee returns, accompanied by a large man, dressed in a striking purple football jacket with white sleeves, blue turn-up jeans and brown leather boots. His manner is friendly, but concerned.

  “Jamal said there be white folks at Aimee’s. It’s not safe for you to be here.”

  “Jamal?”

  “The boy outside watching your car.”

  “Ah.”

  “André, they’ve come to speak to me about Casey.” Aimee tries to pacify André’s confrontational demeanor. “They’re here to help.”

  “Help?” André looks at them both. “How can you help?”

  “I’m Casey’s psychiatrist.” She passes him her business card. “We have to be able to present evidence before the court, if he’s ever to have a chance of a retrial.” André doesn’t look overly impressed. “I presume you’re familiar with his defense?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How do we prove a future memory, especially when it concerns homicide?”

  “Killing cops; he’s no chance.”

  “We’re here to help.”

  “Yeah, yeah I’m sorry.” André sighs out loud and then takes a seat. “You can't understand, you weren’t handed to the third-world streets like us.” Bitterness and pain flow through his lips. “Here our gutters overflow with needles, and our children have to deal with police harassment. It’s our grandparents and parents who watch helplessly as a new generation slips away.”

  “We do share your concerns.” Jeff looks to Eve for back up. “We’re angry about poverty too.”

  “Anger.” Jamal shakes his head. “No; not any more. Leave that to others like you. I worry for my boy who stands outside watching your car, whilst I’m constantly asked if the car I’m driving is mine.”

  “I hear you.” Although Jeff’s never had to face racism personally; he does understand André’s position. “We do have Casey’s best interests at heart.” In a bid to reinforce Jeff’s words, Eve appeals to André.

  “Can you help us?” André takes a minute to study them both. Cops, courts and psychiatrists; there’s no difference. But he’d be letting Casey down if he didn’t.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Thank you.” Eve physically relaxes with relief. “Has Casey shown any signs of being psychic around you?”

  “Hell, I was his bro from birth. We grew up in this hood together; he saved my life on more than one occasion. You have to understand ghetto life, we lived like bangers into our teens; you’re nobody on the street unless you're part of a gang, easy prey on your own. One day someone turned mouse and the brothers thought it was me.”

  “What happened?”

  “What always happens, shit happened. Casey had my back. One day he came to me and told me to get out of the house; he saw me in a dream burning. That night a firebomb came through my window.”

  “Is there any way he could have known that from someone else?”

  “Hell no. I trust him with my life. The most important thing he taught me is that you can’t be happy living amongst hate.” André pauses, a silent thought for brothers lost. “Most of the haters are now dead or in prison. Casey's a good man with a good soul. He needs help.”

  “You have my word we’ll do our best for him. Is there anything else, anything at all that might be of importance before we go?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Send him our love.” The anguish on their faces reflect the inner pain.

  “Of course.”

  “And keep rolling at the crossroads.” This warning is issued with genuine concern. “Don’t stop; keep going till you’re out of here.”

  “We will.”

  “One last thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t forget to pay the kid on your way out.” Jeff nods without saying a word.

  Eve stands beside Aimee at the front door whilst Jeff pays Jamal. He slips the boy ten dollars instead of five; somehow it feels right.

  “Is your Jeff a good man, Eve?” Aimee asks quietly.

  “I think so.”

  “Best watch him.” There’s concern in Aimee’s voice. “This is going to hit him harder than you think.”

  “I’ll keep my eye on him.”

  “You do that, and say goodbye for me.”

  “I will. If we need to speak to you again is that okay?”

  “I’m sorry, I won’t be around.” There’s a pause before Aimee says. “I’m going to visit relatives.”

  “I hope you have a nice time.”

  “Thank you, and stay blessed.”

  “You too. We’ll do our best for Casey.”

  “I know.”

  Back in the car Eve looks towards the house; the front door has already been closed.

  “Seems the wrong side of town isn’t all bad. What did you make of her?”

  “She seemed nice. Good people born into bad situations; same old shit! Our life would have been no different.”

  “And the date?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well you’ve got eyes and ears just like me. We need to come up with some answers.”

  Back at the motel, Eve sits beside Jeff on the couch, handing him a cup of coffee.

  “Just because you don’t believe in the paranormal doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist.”

  “I’m not ruling anything out.”

  “After today I believe Casey.”

  “Just like that?” Jeff can’t believe what he’s hearing.

  “Yeah.”

  “Eve, he killed two cops.”

  “You’re in denial.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You are! Just because it doesn’t fit into your comfortable view of the world doesn’t mean that it’s not real. History’s full of unexplained events and phenomenon; science is powerful, but it can’t explain everything.”

  “But we still have to be scientific.”

  “How?” Eve’s exhausted with this endless debate, and she’s not getting anywhere fast with Jeff.

  “We’ll just have to explore further afield.”

  “And do what?”

  “Find someone who’s in the field of parapsychology and psychic phenomena. Someone who’s spent their life researching and documenting the paranormal, and someone who’s scientific with his research.” Jeff thinks out loud. “He may even hold the answers for us.”

  “You know someone.” There’s a glimmer of hope in her voice.

  “I might know the man.” Jeff knows he’s dangling a carrot.

  “That sounds promising.”

  “It’s a bit more complicated than that.” His face drops. “There’s animosity between us, and we haven’t been in contact for years.”

  “Why not?”

  “Do you mind if I tell you later?”

  “Keeping things from me?” Eve teases to lighten the mood.

  “No.” Jeff plants a kiss on her lips. “I’m not.”

  The rest of the afternoon is spent making love. Their energy is different, spiritually charged; two souls together trying to make sense of the world.

  “I’m always yours no matter where you are.”

  “Promise?” Jeff tries and fails to keep his voice light.

  “I promise.”

  “You won’t leave me again?”

  “Never.” Eve can see the fear in his eyes. “But if you lose me, it’s up to you to find me again.”

  “I won’t let you out of my sight.” Jeff’s reassured, less
insecure.

  “Do you think we’ve been here before?”

  “As in?”

  “Past life, here on this bed, the same words and feelings?”

  “It’s a nice thought.”

  “I would like to think we come back; that it doesn’t just stop. Life’s so lonely with nothing at the end, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah. I would do it all again, just to be here in your arms.”

  “That’s sweet. Do you really mean it?”

  “I’ll prove it to you next time round.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  The following morning Jeff’s on the bed, listening to the sound of the shower. It stops, and minutes later the most beautiful woman in the world walks back into the room. He pulls the sheet back and taps the bed with a smile.

  “We don’t have time now, and don’t look at me with those eyes; it’s your own fault you lost your cell phone at Aimee’s.”

  “A bit of sympathy please. I did nearly break my neck on those steps.”

  “Don’t exaggerate.”

  Jeff takes his shower whilst Eve runs across the street for coffee and breakfast sandwiches. After breakfast it’s a simple matter of ensuring they have all their possessions packed, and then handing back the keys. Eve sits in the car wondering if they’ll ever come back. Jeff walks out of the office and steps into the car.

  “All done?”

  “Yeah. Said she’d give us a discount next time.”

  “That’s nice.”

  And so another rental car pulls away from the Pink Lady Motel. This one’s heading back to the rougher side of town. The first thing they see as they drive into Aimee’s street is the ambulance and a small crowd gathering. As they drive closer they realize it’s outside Aimee’s house.

  “This doesn’t look good.” A bad feeling like a cloak drapes over Eve, threatening to smother her.

  “The front door's open.”

  “What do we do?”

  Jeff drives past the house and parks on the opposite side. They both twist themselves round to see what happens next.

  “We’ll have to wait.”

  “Jeff, I hope she’s alright.”

  Yet no sooner said before two men walk out of the house. Between them they carry a stretcher, and a body covered by a blanket.

  “Oh my God! Jeff, she’s dead.” Eve sensed something was wrong.

  “She can’t be.”

  André appears at the door, distressed, and walks to the back of the ambulance. He stands helpless as the stretcher carrying Aimee’s body is lifted in.

  “Time to go.” Jeff puts the car into drive. “There’s nothing here for us.”

  Eve continues to look back at the scene as they drive away.

  “I thought it was strange yesterday; she contradicted herself.”

  “How?”

  “I asked could we visit again, if we required any further information.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That she wouldn’t be here. She was going to visit relatives.”

  “Nothing unusual in that.” Jeff’s manner is blasé, until he hears:

  “But they’re all dead. She said there was only her and Casey left.” They both digest this in silence, until Eve adds “Guess what.”

  “What?”

  “You’re the one who has to tell him.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The flight home is somber, and Aimee’s death weighs heavily upon their thoughts. Eve’s optimistically open-minded regarding the afterlife, a view reinforced by recent events and Aimee’s parting words. Jeff’s the sceptic of the two. He believes it’s the needs of the psychologically deviant individual, with schizotypal tendencies, that brings about a belief in the paranormal. Jeff even aligns superstition alongside obsessive compulsive disorders. Yet for all his scientific knowledge and personal beliefs, he’s confronted with a problem: a man who displays paranormal powers outside the realm of human capabilities. Now he has to face Casey with the tragic news of his mother’s death.

  “Do you know what you’re going to say to him?” Eve knows he’s apprehensive.

  “I haven’t a clue.” Jeff’s not trained for bereavement counseling, nor is he trained to deal with murderers. “While we’re on the subject, who allocated me as the person to break the news to him?”

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there’s no one else.” Eve’s doesn't want to personally inform Casey; she's too afraid of him.

  “He might take it better from his psychiatrist?” Jeff tests Eve’s reaction; he wouldn’t actually make her confront such an awful situation.

  “Nice try, but he wants to interact with you.” Eve smiles and plays on Jeff’s male ego. “I thought a man of your intellect wouldn’t be intimidated.”

  “You wouldn’t be using reverse psychology on me, would you, darling?”

  “It’s worth a shot.” Eve speaks through an ever-expanding grin.

  “I’m not that gullible.”

  “It’s worked before.”

  “Stop confusing the issue.” Jeff addresses Eve’s psychological manipulation. “And I would be a fool not to feel intimidated by a convicted killer.”

  “He’s also a human being.”

  “Are you sure?”

  The flight is surprisingly uneventful. Eve continues to look to Jeff for reassurance at the slightest noise, and in return Jeff plays the role of nursemaid. As scheduled, the plane makes touchdown safely back on Pueblo soil. Outside in the car park their chariot silently waits. Eve throws the keys to Jeff.

  “Catch.”

  “What’s this?”

  “You take the wheel.”

  “You sure?” His eyebrows raise in surprise; this car is Eve’s pride and joy.

  “Yeah but be quick, a woman’s prerogative is to change her mind.”

  “I know.”

  Jeff doesn’t need asking twice. At the first turn of the key the engine purrs into life. He presses down on the accelerator, and the accompanying thunder is a sound you really can’t argue with.

  “You can feel the power.” He can’t help but smile.

  “Of course. What are you waiting for?”

  Jeff doesn’t need any more encouragement. The roar of the engine becomes louder. Grinning, he rumbles out onto the highway. Driving through the desert plains, he’s never felt this alive or this free. With such a beautiful woman by his side, his years of being stuck behind a lectern are, as far as he’s concerned, over.

  Later in the day they sit outside on the porch, looking out across the plateau. The distant mountains ripple in the heat. Together they ponder, as millions have before, life’s greatest mysteries.

  “We haven’t existed since the beginning of time.” Jeff chooses his words carefully to construct a valid opinion. “And as individuals, it’s only once we are born, that we become aware of our own existence.”

  “Of course.” Eve’s not sure where he’s going with this.

  “We understand that things and people disappear. Who and what has been in the past no longer exists today. In our heart we tell ourselves that can’t be right, because to accept it means accepting that in a relatively short time, we also will not exist.”

  “You’ve got a secret stash of pot, haven’t you?” She has to lighten Jeff up somehow.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because people talk like this when they're high.” She gives up. “Oh it doesn’t matter, go on. I’m listening, honey.”

  “What I’m trying to impart is that we exist in the moment, and then that moment exists only in the past. Each passing night leaves us as individuals a day shorter, and a day poorer.”

  “Thanks for the reminder.”

  “No, stay with me. On a positive note, if it wasn’t for this pressure, humanity would be denied many great works of art, poetry and literature. Knowing we will die drives us forward. Our greatest wisdom is to simply enjoy the moment.” His voice softens. “As individuals life app
ears to be a process, and one that through decay becomes a process of disillusionment. Religion gives hope to the soul, and for many the promise of everlasting life.”

  “Yeah, well, it would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

  “My point exactly. It would be nice for us all to believe, to know we continue in one form or another. This is the promise psychics or religious leaders give us. But even if we did, how can someone know what happens in that future? To prophesize requires the future to have already existed.”

  “The future can’t already exist. That’s like saying I have no control over my own destiny.”

  “Precisely.” Now he’s got her attention. “For a prediction of the future to be accurate it must have already happened. For it to be predetermined means that you have no control from birth. I use the analogy of the train track.” Jeff pauses for a response.

  “The train track?”

  “Yes, the train track. Birth starts at station A and death is at station B. The window is our view, our moment in life. The track exists behind and the track exists out front, but we do not see or experience this. To create an accurate prediction, the psychic must possess the ability to look further down the track to report back to the present on an event that’s already prearranged.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “Yes, but that’s what a premonition, if real, has to be.” To hit home he brings it into the present. “That’s what Casey is asking us to believe.”

  “And appears to be what we’re dealing with.”

  Over the ridge a rippling orange cloud of dust rises in the desert heat. As it draws closer it becomes obvious this plume has a distinctive heartbeat, and from out of the wasteland a biker approaches. Jeff can see by the sheer size of this leather-clad rider that it can only mean one thing: Al’s here. Jeff’s heart sinks and he looks to Eve for any signs of excitement. She smiles to Jeff; Eve’s no fool, and knows just how to put her man at ease.

  “Don’t worry honey, he’s just a friend.”

  “I’m cool.”

  Al pulls up alongside Eve’s car. He blips the throttle for effect, loving the sound of his bike, he expects Eve will too. Then he spots Jeff out on the porch and kills the engine. Dismounting, he dusts himself down whilst Eve walks to the front rail. Jeff eyes the curves of her sexy ass in tight blue jeans; she sure looks hot, he thinks. Leaning over the timber, she calls out to Al, who’s thinking the same.