The Killer on The Heath

ONE

Lowhampton Heath sits on elevated ground with views of the village below.  It’s beautiful in the early morning sunlight. The dew sparkles on the grass, giving everywhere a magical glow.  It’s unusual for me to be there, especially at that time of day, but I was on the trail of a killer.

My name is Cassidy – Cassie for short. Yes, as in David Cassidy.  My mother was a big fan of the seventies pop idol and convinced she was having a boy (who was to be called David). Instead, out popped me – a girl.  Though, I was followed quickly by a boy – my brother, Seb.

Now, you’re probably asking why my mother didn’t call him David, as she’d planned.  After all, that would make sense. Well, it’s my understanding that, by then, her admiration had moved on to an athlete and, once mum got over the shock of unexpected twins, she named my brother after him.

Her nostalgia stuck me with Cassidy.

Twins of the opposite sex are not identical.  Genetically speaking, they are no different from any other set of siblings. They just happened to share the womb.  Still, Seb and I, although not quite the same, are as similar as a brother and sister can be.

What’s interesting about us is that I’m a clairvoyant empath (the two talents don’t always go hand-in-hand).  In layman’s terms, I would be considered a psychic, but that is inaccurate.  My abilities not only allow the dead to speak to me, but also, I’m highly attuned to other people’s emotions.  I’m convinced this has to do with our ancestry – certainly, something in my family’s deep past made me this way, though I’ve no idea what it is.

Oddly enough, Seb wasn’t born with a talent. He just has an uncanny instinct for finding things.

I remember when we were small children, and our mum lost a ring somewhere in the house. Seb found it by retracing her steps meticulously. Even at that young age, he took his time to inspect every square inch of each room. This came in handy as we grew up.  Whenever I’d lose my keys and panic, he’d patiently calmed me down before we’d go through everything I had done together.  His attention to detail was incredible, so no one was surprised when Seb joined the police nor how quickly he gained a reputation for being successful via his meticulous and thorough methodologies.

Seb, also, senses my moods.  He always knows if I’m upset or in trouble. I don’t know how he does it, but he’s even able to tell the difference between what’s really me and what I’m absorbing from others.  It might be a ‘twin thing’ – who knows?  At any rate, I teasingly call him ‘a seeker’ because it’s almost disturbing how good he is.

At times, Detective Inspector Newbold’s success is partly due to me. Don’t get me wrong – he’s good at what he does – but, sometimes, my brother asks for help. Though, that’s not something we can explain to other people.  So, to make things easier, Seb fixed me up as a prison visitor, granting me an identity card and legitimizing my visits to the police station whenever my gifts are needed to see into a prisoner’s psyche. 

A prison visitor checks on the welfare of inmates, so it’s the perfect cover. And, as a volunteer position, I can visit the nick as many times as I wish, though there’s a minimum requirement of once a month. Of course, when I’m not giving tours part-time at the historic Spanner House or meeting clients in need of my special talents, I try to visit the detainees, so my frequency isn’t questioned.

The police station is a difficult place to be, especially since I’m not in complete control of my gifts.  I have a good mastery of them now, after time and a steep learning curve that wasn’t always pretty.  Still, sometimes, my empathic cues work on touch alone. While, other times, I’m bombarded by images, emotions, or both.  When that happens, I must sift through the information, trying to make sense of it before I can extract any viable data.  That isn’t always easy because people are complex, and it becomes worse when it’s intensified by a stressful situation – like being behind bars.

The negativity of the nick can be overwhelming.  Thankfully, not everyone is open to me – some can block me without knowing they’re doing it.  Occasionally, I must disengage myself because I simply don’t want to see the private things people keep to themselves – whatever that might be.  After all, I’m not at the station to judge.  I really just want to help, and most of the people there are good.  They’ve just found themselves in a bad position.  And, in the end, nothing about solving crimes is straightforward, and I’m only an aid to help.  

The case at hand involved a woman. Mandy Smith.  She was murdered on Lowhampton Heath about five miles from where I lived.   Though a known jogger in the area, who regularly came to the heath to take her exercise due to her nearby residence, I didn’t know her personally.

The story of the missing woman had been all over the papers for weeks.  Finally, her shallow grave was discovered by a man walking his dog. According to forensics, her time of death was placed a week earlier.  When Seb told me the grim details of the case, that fact disturbed me. It meant she’d been kept alive somewhere before her murder.

“The police haven’t got much to go on in identifying the killer,” my brother informed me. “Now, matters have taken a twist.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, a wave of trepidation washing over me.

“A second girl has gone missing from the same area.”

I couldn’t stop the audible gasp that passed my lips.  All I kept thinking was how Mandy had been captive before she was killed.

Seb rubbed his temple.  “Look, Cassie, I know this is hard for you, but… maybe, if you walked in Mandy Smith’s footsteps, you might pick something up. I know there are no promises, but we’ve got nothing right now to help catch this guy.”

“Okay,” I agreed.  “I’ll try.”

The early morning was quieter than the popular heath was by later day. I sensed Seb somewhere behind me and appreciated how he knew to stay out of the way.  It was important for him not to intervene during this stage of my process.  Taking in a deep breath, I tried to shake off my tension.

The sky was already a deep blue, promising to be a beautiful day. The seasons influence my life, so the dark green trees filled my heart with happiness.  I loved this time of year when nature came alive after a long winter. The colours and the moods were all part of me.  They seemed to enhance my skills.

As I gazed over at the trees, I took another deep breath, exhaling slowly and deliberately. I feel her. She was here. 

My chest rose and dropped again. My feet moved along the trail, stepping in the victim’s footsteps. It wasn’t long before I shuddered to a halt.  This was where her enjoyment had turned to fear.

My heart thumped as my breath grew jagged.  Blood rushed through my veins as Mandy’s fear bubbled under the surface and a sob rose in my throat. It was her cry and her terror that mounted inside me. It caused me to flee as my “fight or flight” instincts kicked in.

He was chasing us.

Her feet became mine as we moved together towards the trees.  Entering a pathway surrounded by woodland, I knew beyond a doubt this was where he had grabbed her. My panic rose, and I moved quickly.  The action made me lose my footing slightly and caused me to turn my head just as a shadow leapt at me.  Crying out, I threw my arms wide, hoping to knock my attacker sideways, even though I knew he wasn’t real.

We rolled, interlocked, on the ground until we slammed into a large boulder. The impact forced the breath from my lungs as I came to an abrupt halt with a shadow from the past. Gasping for air, I heard Seb scrambling towards me from the side. Just at that moment, a shaft of sunlight hit the trees, and I finally saw the perpetrator’s face.

 “Are you alright?” Seb asked, his eyes wide with concern.  He offered a hand to help me to my feet. 

I nodded eagerly, accepting his aid. “I saw his face.” 

My brother’s smile was wide. “Good. We’ll go to the station and have someone draw it up.”