Free A High Heels Haunting by Gemma Halliday

night.  The wind whipping at my bare skin.  I looked down.  I was clad only in an oversized T-shirt with a big red Stanford S on it, my legs exposed beneath.  And the wind was picking up, rushing over me so that little goosebumps appeared on my arms.  Why was I outside, dressed like this?
    The noise.  That’s right, I’d heard a noise outside.  I was afraid it was the dog.  Blake’s dog.  Sometimes he got out at night.
    I called his name softly.  “Here, boy.  Here, Rufus.”
    Only the wind answered, gusting through the trees, making little ripples on the surface of the pool.  I tiptoed closer to the edge of the water, squinting through the darkness at the thick bushes that flanked the patio.  Were they moving? 
    “Rufus?” 
    Or was it just the wind?  I couldn’t tell.  It was so dark, the moon a tiny sliver in the sky, giving off no more light than a flickering candle.  I should have brought a flashlight with me.  Where did Blake keep his flashlight? 
    I was about to turn around and go back into the house to get one. 
    But I was too late.  A pair of hands were on my shoulders.  Strong and rough, shoving me forward.  So unexpected, I lost my balance immediately, pitching forward, arms out to break my fall as I hit the water. 
    The cold sent a shock through me and I involuntarily took a breath.  Only water came rushing into my mouth instead of air.  I tried to cough it out, to propel myself upward.  But it was no use.  Those hands were still holding me.  Pushing me down.  Instead, I tried to turn around.  I needed to see him.  Who was doing this to me?  Why?  What had I done to them?  I thrashed to the left and right, unable to see anything in the dark, the water clouding my eyes, my lungs stinging, burning, begging for just one little sip of air. 
    But he wouldn’t let me have it.
    I felt my eyes closing, my limbs growing heavy, the fight slipping out of me.  I focused everything I had left into one more movement and flipped my head around to see him watching me.  Watching the life slip out of me as his hands held me under the water.  I couldn’t believe it.
    It was him.
     
    *   *   *
     
     
    “You!” I screamed. 
    I blinked my eyes against the darkness.  I was dry.  In my apartment.  Alive.  Breathing.  Air was pushing in and out of my lungs, not chlorinated water.  Pushing quickly, too, on the verge of hyperventilating.  I bit my lip, steadying myself to get my bearings. 
    I’d fallen asleep on the sofa, the TV on, a Cheers rerun blaring as Tabby curled up at my feet.  I wasn’t sure how long I’d been there , but it had been light when I’d fallen asleep.  Fully dressed.  I 'd dropped the red heels on the floor when I came in.  I quickly kicked them away from me now as if I could kick the dream away too.
    His face.  I’d seen his face. 
    Only I couldn’t.  I mean, she had, but it had been dark.  I could only make out the outline.  It had been a man, tall, short hair, Caucasian.  But that was all I’d been able to see.  Or maybe that was all I wanted to see. 
    It had to have been Blake.  If he’d really been asleep, and she’d fought that hard, he would have woken up.  He would have heard, and come out to the pool, saved her.  There’s no way he could have slept through that struggle. 
    I strained my memory trying to get more details out of the face, but nothing came.   
    But she’d seen him.  Angel had known who her killer was as she’d watched him drain the life out of her.
    The thought sent a shiver up my spine , and I quickly got up and turned on the light.  In fact, I turned on every light in my apartment.  How could he do something like that?  Actually watch the life go out of someone.  It was beyond me.  But one thing I knew for certain.
    “I won’t let him get away with it, Angel,” I said to my empty apartment.  “I promise.”
     
    *   *   *
     
     
    I dressed with determination the next day, putting on