“I’m ok Nate, I was just reliving the horrors that this wedding ring had seen.” I held out the ring and he took it back, I heard it slid back into the bag. His finger brushed mine for a brief moment and I felt fear and guilt, almost overwhelming me. I reached for my coffee cup, a little awkwardly, feeling around the table for it. After a vision I was usually a little disorientated and shaky.
“What did you see?” I could tell Nate was on the edge of his seat, almost as if I could see him.
“Well, this was her wedding ring, I saw blood, a knife, and his face.” I was glad to have my hands wrapped around my warm mug. It kept them from shaking. I took a sip of the blessed hot liquid, reveling in the warmth that spread through my body. I hadn’t realized that the chill that had settled in my bones was from the vision.
“You saw him? The killer, you saw his face?” Nate was radiating panic, and I couldn’t understand why.
“Well I assume it was him, he was stabbing the owner of that ring. Nate, are you alright? You seem, anxious.” I tried putting it gently; I didn’t want him to get offended. He didn’t like that I could read his emotions so well without actually seeing him. It spooked him; actually it spooked a lot of people.
“Yeah, fine. I’m fine. I’m just glad that we may finally be getting a break.” Nate began to get a handle on his emotions. I felt him struggling to get them back under control. He was usually more laid back than this. Something was up. “Could you describe him to a sketch artist?” It was back to business now that he had a tighter reign on his control.
“Yes, but I didn’t think the police were willing to work with me anymore.”
“I think they will be willing to make an exception, besides if we break this case, we will both be cleared.” He seemed relieved.
“Alright, I’ll come down to the station first thing in the morning. In the mean time, go home Nate, you feel tired.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right. Thanks again Jade.” He stood up. I heard him walk into the kitchen and set his coffee cup in the sink. I sat in my chair, drinking my cooling coffee, thinking. There was something different about Nate tonight. He seemed more nervous, antsier, less like the laid back man I knew. Although this case had to be bothering him, it was a doozy, it was. He walked back towards me.
“Thanks! I’ll see you in the morning Jade. Sleep well.”
“Mm hmm. You too Nate, drive careful.”
“Did you want me to pick you up in the morning?”
“No, I think I’ll be ok, I’ll call a cab or something. Good night Nate.” I stood and walked towards the door.
“Alright, see you tomorrow then.” I heard the door open, then close behind him. I locked the deadbolt and sighed. I was really tired. Visions usually took a lot out of me, but Nate seemed to be giving off a high frequency buzz. I guess I was more susceptible to it, being that I was clairvoyant. But it seemed to drain me more so than usual. Sighing I carried my still half full and cold coffee to the kitchen, dumped it down the drain, and wandered up to bed.
The next morning came too early, but I had promised Nate, and it’s better to do it fresh. So I got up and showered, then called a taxi. I was dressed and ready, sitting at my kitchen table when the phone rang. I groped along the wall for the phone. When my fingers felt the familiar smoothness of the receiver it had rung four times already.
“Good morning, this is your taxi; we are waiting out front of your house.”
“Oh, I’ll be right out.” I hung up and hurried to the door. I slipped on my shoes and grabbed my jacket. My keys were hanging beside the door just like always; I plucked them off their hook, grabbed my folding white cane and stepped out into the crisp autumn air. After locking the door and unfolding my cane, I heard a car door open.
“Oh, let me help you m’am.” The voice had a slight southern drawl, like the voice on the phone. I heard him hurry up the sidewalk towards me, and I slipped my sunglasses on smiling.
“Thank you.” He guided me down to the car by my elbow. He opened the door for me and I slid in. He closed my door and a few seconds later I heard his door open, and the soft sigh of fabric against fabric as he slid into his seat. He closed his door and asked, “Where to miss?”
“The police station please.”