Psychic Series Boxset: Books 1-3

by Lisa Freed

  “My boss wants me to have a complete physical, blood work, the works. But at least he’s not firing me.”

  “That’s great,” I muttered, still annoyed from his earlier treatment and I knew John would voice his opinion over this the minute Lance left.

  “Yeah, well, I guess I should thank you for coming all the way to Greece to help me. I still don’t know how Victor got your information.”

  I softened slightly. “Yes, you should. Listen, Lance, I know things ended on a sour note.”

  “A sour note?” Lance broke in, his face dark with anger. “Teresa, you completely blew me off. I thought we had a simple fight not a breakup, but you refused to return my calls. You even turned away when I waved at the gatehouse!”

  I looked away. Ugh! Guess I had acted like a brat. Looking back at Lance, I tried a small smile. “I’m sorry about that.”

  He waved it away with one of his hands. “No, it’s okay. It made me realize just how truly far apart we are.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m thirty-eight and you’re what? Twenty-three?”

  “Twenty-four,” I offered. “But that doesn’t matter, age is just a number.” What was I doing? Trying to get back with Lance?!

  “No, it’s not. People say that when they are trying to justify things or prove a point. But the fact remains that with age comes a lot of learning through life experiences. I’m a twice-divorced man, you’re a young woman just starting to figure things out.”

  I could only stare at him. He made me sound so disappointing. I wanted to argue with him about how world savvy I truly was-but as John had pointed out just twenty minutes earlier, I had been super trusting and naïve in Greece and could have potentially ended up in a really bad spot. Maybe I really did have a lot to learn.

  Lance, unaware of my internal struggles pushed on, “Teresa, thank you for a wonderful few weeks and for coming to my rescue in Greece. I will be forever thankful.” He picked up my hand and brought it to his lips where he placed a dry kiss on the back of my hand.

  As he got up and began walking toward the door, my mind exploded in a dozen different thoughts. I had so much I wanted to say. I followed after him feeling my necklace bounce against my chest as I did.

  “Lance, wait!” I cried out.

  At the door, he paused, a patient look on his face.

  “I, uhh…” I pulled the necklace free from my shirt, letting the bright red pendant dangle from my fingertips.

  His electric blue eyes widened with recognition. “How did you get that?” he asked with an edge to his voice.

  Recalling my searching his bedroom for clues to his disappearance I had to quickly improvise. “When Victor called, I went to your house, it was pretty trashed, as you saw. I thought you were burglarized at first, but some expensive watches and your phone were left. And this.”

  His hard face relaxed and a smile brought a bit of wistfulness to his face. “I meant it as a gift,” he said softly.

  “An incredibly thoughtful one,” I said, the necklace spinning slightly in my hand, the red bright and flawless in the hallway lights.

  Lance came closer, his hand taking the pendant from me. “Remember how mad you were that I wouldn’t give this to you?”

  I laughed, embarrassed over the memory of my anger that day. Mad didn’t even come close to have explosively PO’ed I had been.

  “If I remember correctly, I think I seriously thought about leaving you there,” I said.

  “Did you really?” he rubbed the glass between his fingers. “And here I had no idea what a temper you had. How did you hide that from me when we were dating?”

  Looking up at his face, my eyes going over his firm lips and his beautiful blue eyes, I smiled. “You definitely annoyed me but other than the drinking and the high-handedness, you weren’t half bad.”

  “Oh, other than those.” A smile curved up his lips as he leaned closer and pressed his lips to my mine in a gentle kiss full of sadness.

  “Excuse me, I’ll be heading out now,” John said loudly.

  I jumped away from Lance who still had ahold of my necklace. The force on the delicate chain was too great and it broke leaving the pendant in Lance’s hand and the severed chain around my neck.

  “I’ll get the rest of my things later,” John said, pushing past us to the door which he slammed on his way out.

  Lance scowled at the closed door then transferred that to me, his fist closing over the pendant. “Rest of his things?”

  I shoved at him, pushing him toward the door. “John’s my friend and was cat-sitting for me. Stop being a jerk!”

  “Yep, I’m a jerk but you traveled to Greece to help me.”

  “Lance, once upon a time I thought I loved you,” I got out before immediately bursting into tears.

  His face softened, his arms reached for me, but I grabbed Daisy, who was twining around his legs and shook my head.

  His arms fell and he left, gently closing the door behind him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I took the next day off to de-stress, unwind, and spend time with my cats. Now that I was home again it hit me how much I had missed their sweet faces, purrs, and affection, and just being around animals that loved me unconditionally. Okay, mostly because I fed them and scooped their litter but still.

  Several times I tried calling John, but he never answered. After the fifth attempt, I left a long, rambling message that I immediately regretted. Thank goodness phones now had the option to delete messages before they were heard and laughed over. I would have been sunk back in the days of rotary dialers. I hit the hashtag symbol, got the option to rerecord my message, which I eagerly took and then carefully did a second message. Keeping this one much simpler and less emotional. Basically, that it was a total misunderstanding, I wasn’t back with Lance and I appreciated him cat-sitting for me and to please, please talk to me again.

  Then I hung up before I got carried away even further and started blubbering again.

  Once that was accomplished, I put a call into the Whisker Kisses crew to let them know I was back and would be in tomorrow. Sandy answered and asked if I had been on flight four, eight, zero.

  “Yes, that sounds vaguely familiar. Why?”

  “You didn’t see anything at the airport? Some guy was arrested for trying to skip customs and it turns out he was smuggling drugs.” Sandy giggled then continued. “He wasn’t much of a pro, he ran through the airport drawing tons of attention to himself. Turns out he was detained in Greece too. Some people shouldn’t quit their day jobs.”

  My mouth fell open. Jim?! A drug smuggler? Though that did explain him being so twitchy when I joked about Victor being a drug kingpin. “If it’s the same guy I did see him get stopped in Athens, he put up quite a fuss.” I offered, enjoying Sandy’s laughter. I even cracked a smile. Thanks to me, Jim wouldn’t be peddling the bad stuff to anyone.

  After the call, my mood was much lighter and I felt calm. Wanting to continue with that positive mindset I grabbed a book and headed out onto my balcony.

  Fall was in full force and I went back inside to get a light jacket. It was odd going from a week in sunny, green Greece to multicolored leaves and crisp breezes in Delaware. We were never guaranteed true Fall weather or outstanding foliage here. Sometimes we got too much rain which messed with the leaves so instead of going from vibrant green leaves to an array of oranges, reds, and yellows we got dull, dead brown leaves. I hated being cheated out of my fall colors.

  This year I was getting my postcard beautiful Fall. Perhaps a drive up north to Longwood Gardens in Pennsylvania was in order. I could see if Megan would let me take Amber.

  My book tumbled from my hands to the table as a new thought shot through me. Shoot! I had never heard back from Megan about how our parents’ visit had gone. Nor had I called her to let her know I was back.

  Nibbling on my lower lip, I considered my options. Maybe I should wait on that call, I had enough stress lately, why add to it? Sound advice. I pi
cked my book up and started to read.

  Only a few pages in, my next-door neighbors to the right, the Jameses, came out onto their balcony to sit and read. They were the sweetest couple, devoted to one another and that transcended Mr. James’ death over a year ago while they were on a cruise to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Poor Mr. James had a heart attack while they were scuba diving and he remained in his scuba gear in death.

  Both waved at me, smiling broadly. Mrs. James calling across, “Timothy loved this time of year. I never cared for it. But I come out here and it makes me feel close to him still and just happy.”

  Mr. James looked up from his paper and nodded at his wife.

  My heart swelled. I could only hope to someday find that type of everlasting love.

  “He’s still with you,” I commented. “His love,” I added.

  Mrs. James’ pale, lined face became radiant as her smile stretched her thin lips. “I think so too. Enjoy yourself, my dear,” she said before picking up her own newspaper.

  *****

  The following day still no call from John. My hair was out of control so I called Charlotte “Lotte” Carson, my longtime hairdresser and newish friend. After begging for an appointment sometime this month she stunned me by saying if I could get to the salon in fifteen minutes, she could fit me in for just a cut while a color was processing.

  I’m there!

  I headed over and no sooner walked in the door and she was enveloping me in a tight and somewhat fragrant hug. The whole salon smelled of perm, peroxide, and hairspray, quite a wild combination that my nose didn’t know what to do with. Sneeze or breathe it all in and taste it. Ugh

  Last time I saw Lotte she had been sporting bright copper highlights, today she had added golden browns and a few bits of blonde to the mix, in other words, she looked fantastic. Tall, thin and gorgeous. Ahh…what I wouldn’t give to add a few inches to my height, then I might have legs that didn’t look like drumsticks. Extra meaty ones.

  Lotte placed a bright pink cape around my shoulders and then she was off and running, talking fast while squirting my hair with the water bottle. Water dripped off my bangs onto my nose where it hung before plinking down to the join the growing puddle in my lap.

  “John said you were in Greece, how was it? A vacation or what?”

  I latched onto her mention of John. A month back I played matchmaker and tried to get the two of them together, it didn’t go as well as I had hoped, and I had feared I might be out one amazing hairdresser. Amazingly, she didn’t bear me any ill will and hadn’t seemed completely off of John either. And if she was talking to him…the Hallmark movie-loving fool in me got very excited and started thinking wedding bells again.

  Lotte then dashed my dreams of being a bridesmaid or John’s best woman by saying she ran into John at Chow-Mein getting takeout. To further take me out of my rosy fantasy, instead of giving me an opening to quiz her about the whole John/dating situation, Lotte launched into questions about Greece.

  I was unsure what John had told her so I stuck to the story I told my Whisker Kisses crew about going there to help Lance out.

  “Him!” Lotte snorted, while her fingers tugged my hair in different directions.

  Finally, someone on my side! I cheered.

  “He should be chasing you to get you back not the other way around.”

  Ugh! No, not Lotte too. “I’m not interested in Lance,” I said somewhat huffy.

  “But you are interested in someone, I can tell,” Lotte said, a smile flashing on her face. “You got that crush-sick look about you.”

  “It’s jet lag,” I protested. “There’s a seven-hour time difference and my body’s still on Greek time.” Even while the words were pouring out of my mouth in denial, my mind was on Mateo.

  “Whatever, girl. So, if you don’t want to talk about it or why you went to Greece with Lance if you don’t want him back, then tell me about Greece. I’ve never been outside the US unless you count my honeymoon to Niagara Falls. But that was right over the border into Canada, so not a big deal. Back then you didn’t even need a passport.”

  This was my ‘in’ to delve more into Lotte’s personal life. “How are things between you and the ex?”

  “Terrible,” she said, her shears snipping like mad.

  As raggedy bits of hair flew down into my cape-shrouded lap, I decided Greece was a much safer topic after all. “It’s gorgeous, Lotte. I stayed in Athens but took a short jaunt over to Milos Island to go sea glass hunting. Mateo found a spectacular yellow piece. That’s one of the rarest color of sea glass,” I blathered on and then happened to look up in the mirror to see a gotcha grin on her face.

  “Mateo, huh? Sounds cute. That your crush?”

  I squirmed, the crinkly cape giving my movements away. Then because who else could I tell about this I started spilling my guts. “Oh, Lotte! Cute doesn’t even begin to describe him. He’s Greek, tall, not very beefy, leaner and more muscular than anything. And his hair. He has a shock of wild, black hair that he styles in one of those windswept swoops.”

  Lotte busted out laughing. “That would have to go!”

  “Yes! It looks so much better when it's just down or brushed to the side. But he’s just so kind and thoughtful.” I sighed remembering.

  She had finished up snipping and had her hair dryer in hand. Before turning it on she asked, “And when are you going back to see him? Or is he coming here?”

  Blurrrrr…the dryer had flicked on and her hands ran through my hair, directing it where she wanted.

  I raised my voice slightly to be heard, “Not happening. Long distance relationships are hard enough, but an ocean away?”

  “And what does he say about that?”

  “I think he feels the same. He didn’t even want us to get attached there,” I admitted mournfully.

  “Hmmm…” was her only comment. The dryer turned off and the cape was whipped away. She handed me a mirror so I could admire her handiwork. Despite thinking loads of hair was being cut away I saw only a small pile on the floor around the chair. But the effect was remarkable, I looked human again and my hair shiny and healthy.

  At the register, she remarked, “Now about those roots?”

  “Get me in your book or it will never get done.” I was joking but we both knew it was the truth. Once that was settled and shears were no longer in her hand, I tried my luck. “About John…”

  Lotte cut me off, “There’s my colors’ timer, gotta go. Be good and why don’t you give that Mateo a call?” She dropped me a wink then was off and chatting with her other client as she led her to the sinks.

  In my truck as I sat and admired my hair in the mirror, swishing it this way and that, my phone rang. Mateo! Is Lotte a tad sensitive too? I wondered while answering it.

  “Mateo,” I squeaked out, my voice unnaturally high.

  “Teresa, Victor switched bodies.”

  No greeting, right down to business. I deflated a bit then his words processed. “How do you know?”

  “Because the dealer you described was just fished out of the hotel’s pool this morning.”

  “Victor killed him?” I gasped, both hands clutching the phone.

  “Not unless ghosts can shoot guns,” Mateo said.

  I could almost picture the wry grin that went with that deadpan response.

  His next question was much less amusing. “Would he have stayed in a body and allowed it to be killed?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” I admitted. “But Victor didn’t seem like he wanted to harm anyone. I mean…” I trailed off, feeling silly about defending a spirit who was causing a lot of trouble.

  “Teresa, he used to be a major drug dealer, you said so yourself. He was no angel and even if he didn’t directly kill anyone, I’m positive back in his day he ordered people whacked.”

  Despite the seriousness, the word whacked set me off. It was so like a gangster movie. When I collected myself enough to speak, I had to agree with Mateo. “Okay, so
Victor was a bad guy, I know that, but as a spirit, he never did anything that terrible.”

  “Didn’t he steal your ex-boyfriend’s body?”

  “Yes…” that word was drawn out. “But he never hurt him. Other than some sunburn,” I amended.

  “Fine, so someone else got to this guy and killed him. Now we don’t know if Victor is in spirit form, or body jumped to another dealer, or what.”

  I felt at a loss as to what to say. “Guess you can stop watching Andre’s house,” I ventured.

  “Since I don’t know what I’m watching for now, that would be a logical assumption,” he groused then added in softer tones,” call me if Victor returns.”

  “Of course,” I said, my feelings a little miffed that he would have to ask. “Mateo, I’m heading over to work, so I’ll let you go.”

  “Work?” Mateo sounded mystified. “You never did tell me what you do.”

  John’s comments the other night about my naïveté and his concern for me rose up in my mind. “It’s a cat rescue,” I told him, neglecting to mention that I started and ran it with my money.

  “Interesting,” he said and I could tell by his tone that he meant it.

  Despite the now dead end with Victor and the news about the very dead drug dealer, I found my mood light as I disconnected with Mateo. It was just nice to hear his voice, talk with Lotte, and be back home.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Whisker Kisses was my baby. It was a twenty-five hundred square foot house that was the center of my cat rescue. We housed anywhere from twenty to fifty cats at a time. A few were long-term residents that occupied the bottom floor, they were pretty much free to roam the entire building but they seemed to prefer the lower level for sleeping and lounging. But many on the upper floor got fostered or adopted out. Our goal was a cat would find a home or we would be their home for the rest of their lives.

  At Whisker Kisses, despite the happy faces that greeted me when I entered the bright turquoise door, I knew something was wrong. The whole atmosphere felt off.