Psychic Series Boxset: Books 1-3

by Lisa Freed

  When I rounded the side of the huge ladder truck, I found John down on all fours scrubbing at a blot of black with an old-fashioned wood handled bristle brush. A ghostly dalmatian sat nearby wagging his tail. According to local legend that John had filled me in on, the dog was named Gene and had lost his life over fifty years ago charging into a fire after a fallen firefighter. Sadly, both were lost in the blaze.

  With audible popping of joints, John stood and wiped a greasy bare forearm across his face, leaving a trail of black while smearing the sweat that had been on his forehead. “T, you never called me back.”

  I licked a finger and rubbed it at that the mark on his face while he attempted to swat me away. “I thought I would drop in since you said you wanted to see me.”

  “Let me put this stuff away and I’ll show you something.”

  Shrugging, I amused myself by looking at the different gleaming red trucks in the bay and attempting to scratch Gene on the head. Whether it worked or not he seemed appreciative of my efforts as his tail beat the air faster and I could feel it swirling around my legs.

  After dumping the bucket of water in the sink and returning the brush to the supplies closet next to the door, John came over to stare down at the floor near my feet. “Gene here?” he asked in a whisper, his blue eyes narrowed.

  Despite John knowing about my abilities and never doubting me, it still bugged him that he worked in a haunted building and had never seen or felt a single thing.

  “Yup, he was keeping you company while you worked. But what’s up with the guys out there?” I asked jerking my thumb in the direction of other room.

  “You’re a hot chick walking into a building full of testosterone,” John supplied.

  I stuck out my tongue at him and immediately several loud whistles sounded. Startled, I saw a few of the guys looking through the glass and they were making kissy faces at us.

  “John! Are they twelve or what?” I hissed turning my back to the large window and our audience.

  He grinned. “Just about. Come on, let’s head into the office, that’s where it is anyway.”

  I followed along behind him out the door and past the grinning and chuckling firefighters. My lips twitched but I refused to look their way. In the office, John pushed the door closed before grabbing an opened envelope off the small desk and handing it to me.

  I looked at the front first seeing it was addressed to the fire hall and the sender’s names Mr. and Mrs. Carl Jones meant nothing. With a mental shrug, I pulled the folded piece of paper out.

  Dear Station Ten,

  We wish to thank you for the lovely carnival over the summer and your helpful fortune teller, Madame T. We could not find her name online so are hoping you will pass this message on to her.

  After her sound advice, we have started the foster to adopt process and have just completed our classes. We will have our home study completed soon. We cannot wait to open our home and hearts to children.

  So, Madame T, thank you. And thank you Station Ten for having such a gifted young woman on your staff.

  All the best,

  Carl and Kennedy Jones

  The rough callus on John’s thumb scraped across my face carrying with it the tears I hadn’t realized were leaking from my eyes. “T, are you okay? Why are you crying?”

  “Everything is just fine,” I said tossing my arms around John’s lean waist and pulling him forward for a hug. His long arms embraced me back. The smell of sweat, soap, and man overwhelmed my senses. A lump formed in my throat that had nothing to do with my joy for the Joneses and their future children and everything to do with John.

  Moving away from his encircling arms I felt his reluctance to let me go in how his rough hands dragged over my sleeves, tugging at the fabric as they went. The smile he gave me didn’t reach his eyes and I had to turn away from him to collect myself.

  “I thought you should see that in person,” John’s voice didn’t betray the swirling emotions between us and I envied him that.

  Not for the first time, I thought about how easy it would be to just give in to what he wanted and kiss him. But I knew that would hurt him more. He was my friend and though I loved him for his sweet nature and quirky sense of humor, I never felt the giddy desire that I did with Mateo or even the warm gentle budding sense of togetherness like I had with Lance. To try and force things would be to ruin our friendship and I don’t think I could stand not having John in my life.

  “Thank you,” I said softly, hoping somehow, he knew I was thanking him for more than sharing the sweet letter with me.

  “Absolutely,” his eyes swept over me and I could see the struggle it took for him not to say what he clearly wanted.

  “Hey, how are the cats doing?”

  “They’re doing well, taking over the apartment like they own it,” John said, taking the letter and envelope back from me. “Want me to make a copy of this for you? No clue why but the Chief said you couldn’t have the original.”

  “Would you?” I waited while he put it on the copier and ran off one for me. “I don’t even know how to use one of those.”

  “Technology is great in all forms, even older ones,” John lectured with a straight face before his cheeks sucked in and then loud laughter exploded out.

  I gave him a playful shove on the arm, snatching at the still warm copy of the letter in his hand. “Listen, I should get going.”

  “Okay. Hey, T, want to have dinner tomorrow night?”

  “I’d like that,” I said and meant it.

  John didn’t see me out and I appreciated it, we needed a little space. Even better, the other guys were off doing whatever and although one of the ghostly firefighters gave me a disapproving head shake it didn’t bother me.

  Once in my SUV, I filled my lungs with several deep, cleansing breaths. John and I would get past these little bumps of attraction and I knew once he had a steady girlfriend, we could go back to being friends with no other concerns. And that letter! Finally, some validation that I was doing some good with my abilities.

  Something I haven’t been doing much of lately, I thought with a fresh frown pulling at my face. All my recent endeavors were geared more toward cleaning up Victor’s messes or navigating the tricky twists and turns of my love life. Okay, do more good, that wasn’t too tall of a challenge. Just had to seek it out if the opportunity didn’t fall into my lap. Like I could have been nicer to the ghosts of the firefighters. They were all heroes, having sacrificed their lives to save others. A few minutes of my time talking with them or even just a smile wouldn’t have killed me.

  Best way to cement my new goal would be to help the first spirit I came across. And considering they were everywhere lately, that wouldn’t be too difficult.

  My opportunity came much sooner than I would have believed. While putting my key into the ignition, my eyes were snagged by a familiar old man walking across the road. Leaning forward and squinting slightly, I jerked back when I realized who it was. The old man from Greece! He had ridden an elevator with me at the hotel I had stayed at and had yabbered away at me. Sadly, I couldn’t understand a word of it and when Mateo saw him, he had panicked so hadn’t heard the man speak.

  I waved and began getting out of the truck but the man didn’t slow down. Instead, he gave me a fierce frown and faded out.

  Guess he realized I still didn’t speak his language, but why had he followed me halfway across the world?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The next morning, I greeted two bleary-eyed volunteers by wordlessly handing over a bag of donuts and two extra-large coffees from Dunkin Donuts. While they dug in, I went on morning rounds tidying up litterboxes, filling food and water bowls, and sweeping. Endless sweeping, thanks to all the cat hair floating around.

  When I returned downstairs a much more chipper Dana and Gwennie were waiting for me.

  “Want me to get Billy and Jean for you?” Dana offered, wiping crumbs of white powder from her mouth and hands with a napkin.

 
“Did you hear they’re planning a fifth Indiana Jones?” Gwennie asked before popping the last bit of a grape jelly filled donut in her mouth.

  “Yes, please,” I said to Dana and then turning to Gwennie, “No way! Really?”

  “Hang on a minute.” Dana stood and turned to her partner, “You didn’t mention that last night.”

  “I just read it,” Gwennie said with a shake of her head, tapping a well-manicured French-tipped fingernail on a glossy entertainment magazine near her arm on the table.

  “Don’t toss it, I’ll read it later.” Her gaze swung my way, “Did you bring carriers or are you borrowing some?”

  “I brought two with me, but you know what, I have two guest rooms. I should take four cats if there’s two more that are close.” Spur of the moment but it made sense, as the boss, to do as much as I possibly could to help out.

  “Have to be females though, right?” Gwennie asked, her brow crinkled in thought. “Maverick didn’t like other boys.”

  Laughing and nodding, I marveled at her fabulous memory. “Yup, he’s possessive and I don’t feel like dealing with any spraying if I don’t have to.”

  Dana and Gwennie looked at each other, identical looks of dismay on their faces. Finally, Dana spoke up, “I didn’t think altered males sprayed anymore.”

  “Sadly, they can and will when provoked. And it’s nasty.” My nose crinkled in remembrance of the stench that took forever to get out of your nose.

  “Girls it is then!” Gwennie said laughing.

  The three of us headed upstairs. Gwennie helped me load Billy and Jean, the two sisters, into the carriers I had brought while Dana went and fetched two more carriers. It was such a hard decision on which to take but the ghost of Old Zeke helped by rubbing up against two and meowing expectantly at me.

  “Jill?” Dana asked with a quiver of hesitation when she saw me move to pick one up.

  “Not a good fit?” I frowned. I hadn’t spent a lot of time with her. Picking up the tiny senior girl she went rigid in my arms, her tail curling up under her body. Poor thing.

  “She’s just been really skittish.”

  “Maybe being around just one other cat will be a good thing for her,” Gwennie put in.

  I glanced down at the scared cat in my arms and then at Old Zeke staring expectantly up at me. Deciding to go with his judgment, I placed Jill into one of the carriers, the poor girl went quietly and sat in there with her back facing the door.

  The other cat Old Zeke picked was called Esmeralda, a fat two-year-old that had been brought to us from one of the shelters in Maryland. Originally named Witchy Woman, Parker had changed it when she arrived. Esmeralda didn’t care for the carrier and let us know by latching her back claws on the door and growling deep in her throat. We had no luck with Dana holding the carrier and me trying to push the cat’s fat rump in.

  Gwennie grabbed a pillowcase and we let Esmeralda back herself into that then with a quick whoosh, we closed the top and stuck it in the carrier. A few seconds later her sleek black head popped out and she hissed at us.

  “Good luck, T!” Gwennie said with a pinched smile. Her blue eyes went to Dana’s brown ones and they busted out laughing.

  “Whatever, girls! Help me get them loaded up and off we go out of your hair.”

  Twenty minutes later, I had Billy and Jean set up in my first guest bedroom and those two immediately hopped up on the bed, not phased at all about their abrupt change of surroundings. Sadly, the same could not be said for Jill and Esmeralda who both zoomed out of their carriers. Jill found refuge under the bed while Esmeralda jumped into the tub.

  I left the two girls in the second guest room and when I went out in the hall, I saw Maverick with his nose glued to the door of the first guest bedroom. When I got closer, he turned and hissed.

  “Chill out, Mav! You were once the sad, homeless cat. Be thankful for your lucky circumstances.”

  He ignored me and continued to hiss.

  “Whatever, Maverick.”

  Going downstairs, my fingers trailing along the cool, slick, wood of the banister, the urge to decorate for Halloween hit. It was only two weeks away and I had nothing inside or out. The black cats were safe from my three so there was no reason I had to hang around. I grabbed my purse and keys and went out in search of pumpkins, hay bales, and other fun Fall things.

  Two hours and more money than I would care to admit spending later, I pulled into my driveway and noticed my cleaning lady's car blocking the way into the garage. I parked slightly to the side and behind her white Toyota Corolla, the sight of her stuffed dolphins in the back made me grin.

  Helen’s tearstained face wiped the grin off my face fast. “Are you okay?” I asked, dumping my purse and an overlarge bag of decorations on the floor of the entranceway.

  “Oh, Teresa! I’m so sorry,” the older woman moaned, walking rapidly toward me. “I went to clean the guest bedrooms and there were cats in there! One zoomed out and Maverick attacked it. They were screaming so loudly! I don’t know where they are now. I’m so sorry!” She covered her face, soft sniffing sounds emerged from behind her trembling hands.

  My palm smacked at my open mouth. Dang! I knew I had forgotten something. “It’s okay, Helen. I completely forgot you were coming, I should have left you a note about them. Which bedroom?” I asked though I had an idea which it was.

  “The lavender one.”

  Yup, the one that I had put Jill and Esmeralda in. “What about Agnes and Daisy?”

  “I shut them in your room after the commotion with Maverick and the other cats.”

  “Good call,” I said racing toward the stairs. “If we find Maverick, I think we’ll find the other cats. How many escaped? I had two in each guest room.”

  Helen paused, her red-rimmed brown eyes jumping around, “I don’t know.”

  “Okay, well, let’s check that out first.” The door to the smaller, lavender bedroom was closed and when I opened it, I saw and heard nothing. I motioned for Helen to follow me inside and slowly advanced.

  The door closed behind us with a soft click and we began searching the room. The food had been gobbled and the water bowl overturned. Helen grabbed a roll of paper towels from under the sink and began cleaning up the puddle of water. I got down on my hands and knees, crawling to the corner of the bed and lifting up the edge of the pale purple comforter, though it didn’t impede my view of under the bed at all. Even with the barest of light coming from the pulled curtains, I could tell there was nothing under the bed, not even a dust ball on the shiny wood floor.

  Getting up, I rubbed my hands on my jeans, my eyes canvassing the room. There was a suspicious lump in the smooth expanse of the comforter on the queen-sized bed. How had I missed this?

  “Helen,” I whispered, then when I had her attention I pointed to the lump and held a finger to my lips. Using two hands, I whipped up the heavy comforter, exposing a small black cat curled into a ball. Jill!

  Large yellow eyes blinked up at me as I lowered the blanket back on top of her.

  “There’s one which means Esmeralda is the one who escaped. She’s pretty big and fat so hopefully easy to find.”

  Despite how upset she had been Helen laughed. “That name! Are they all given such fancy ones at your rescue?”

  “Nope, the little one under here is Jill.” I patted the bed near where Jill was huddled.

  Next up we searched the hall and finally my room where I heard a series of noises before we had even opened the door. Agnes was in the middle of my bed sprawled out on her back with her fluffy tummy exposed, not a care in the world. Maverick crouched half under the bed, only his sleek hindquarters and bristled brushy tail exposed.

  “I think we found Esmeralda,” Helen said, her mouth in a downward slant.

  “Maverick,” I said sternly but he ignored me. Getting down on the floor next to him I reached out, meaning to pull him out of there when a flash of white claws had me jumping up. Yanking the sleeve of my shirt up exposed three thin line
s of ragged skin on my forearm, already beginning to bead with bright red blood. “You goober.”

  “Oh, Teresa, your arm,” Helen gasped.

  Stomping to the chest at the bottom of my bed, I opened it and retrieved a pillowcase from within. “I’ll be fine. Let’s get him out of here.”

  With pillowcase in hand, I lunged and had Maverick’s rear in the case. As he moved to get away, I shoved it over the rest of him and his own frantic movements pushed him deeper into it. Holding the thrashing lime green pillowcase away from me just in case his claws got through the Egyptian cotton, I very carefully walked downstairs with him.

  In the kitchen, I gently placed it on the floor and stood back, watching the material shake as Maverick emerged. With a flick of his tail, he walked to his water dish, took a few laps then sat there washing his face with a paw, avoiding looking at me.

  When I went back upstairs with one of the cat carriers, I found Helen on the floor stroking Esmeralda.

  “Want her?” I asked not even attempting to beat around the bush.

  “Oh no, I don’t have time for a cat,” Helen said, her brown eyes never leaving the cat’s face. Esmeralda’s eyes were closed and her little mouth looked like she was smiling. Even from the doorway, I could hear her steady, content purrs.

  “You have time to feed her and clean her litter, you have time,” I respond, moving to pluck her from Helen’s lap.

  Helen’s strong, capable fingers stilled momentarily on the cat’s sleek black fur, her eyes lifted to regard me. “Is this how you rope people in?”

  “If only it was that simple. She’s been vetted already, clean bill of health. A small adoption fee and you can take her home right now.” I dangled the cat carrier in front of me.

  With a soft huff of exertion, Helen got to her feet, Esmeralda hugged to her chest. “A sucker born every minute and today I am that fool.” She lifted the cat to look into her face and then said with a sigh, “She’s a really sweet cat.”