I wasn’t used to being ordered around, but if whatever he’d brought could get me into the crime scene to help my friend, I wouldn’t question it. Not yet. The jail was not a place I wanted to call home.
I jogged up the stairs and into my room, dropping the bag onto my bed. I unzipped the contents to find a police uniform encased in the bag. The name read Officer Sally Carbine.
“Interesting.” Sally and I weren’t even the same sizes, and I had suspicions that this uniform wasn’t a one-size-fits-all kind of outfit.
Men. I sighed and slipped out of my clothes and put on the scratchy uniform. Everything about this outfit screamed hell no. The pants were three inches too long. The buttons on the top tugged to contain my breast, leaving a gap. I slipped into my heeled boots to keep the material from dragging on the ground.
Yanking at the collar, I headed back downstairs to find Mason no longer in the library. Instead, Charlotte and he had moved to the ballroom.
“We use the computers and monitors when Cree does her charity auctions. She was making sure everything still works.”
Thank God, the rest of the equipment had been squirreled away. “I don’t know how you guys wear this uniform. It’s itchy and ungiving and definitely doesn’t compliment a woman’s figure.”
They both turned to me. Charlotte hid her smile behind her hand. Mason’s gaze slowly slid down my body and back up until he met my face. He cleared his throat and gave me a ponytail holder. “You need to put your hair up the way you girls do in that messy pile on top of your head.” He then held out a pair of oversized sunglasses. “And put these on too.”
“Seriously?” I asked, twirling my hair up into a messy bun.
“The point is to hide your identity. We aren’t leaving here until I’m satisfied you won’t be recognized.”
I took the sunglasses and slid them on my face before holding out my hands. I looked like a hot mess. I could see it in Charlotte’s grin. “Does this work?”
“You look like a hot stripper cop heading to work a bachelor party,” Charlotte answered, earning my glare.
I sighed. If we didn’t come up with something and fast, I had a feeling Mason was close to calling the whole thing off and changing his mind. My eyes widened, and I grinned.
“Don’t move.” I held up my palms. “Give me five minutes to change.”
I ran up the stairs, unbuttoning my top as I hit the landing, and ran toward the end of the hall. I threw open my grandmother’s door. Her signature perfume smacked me in the face as I headed for her closet. I pulled down one of her favorite dresses and slid it over my head. The material hung on my body like an oversized tent. I took a pillow and slid it beneath, using one of Grammy’s belts to hold it in place. I padded my bra with toilet paper to make my rack appear on the larger side before slipping Grammy’s favorite wig on my head. I was studying my appearance in the mirror when I spotted her reading glasses with the chain. I slipped those on too and rested the readers on my nose. Grammy’s energy swirled around me, cocooning me inside a sense of calm and peace. This was going to work, or we might never know the truth.
I changed into her practical pumps and had to stuff those to make them fit before grabbing her cane. I hunched over and headed down the stairs into the ballroom.
“How do I look, sonny?” I imitated my Grammy’s voice. I’d had years of practice mimicking her as she scolded me.
Charlotte burst into laughter.
Mason’s eyes widened in horror.
“You're a younger version of Grammy but without the wrinkles,” Charlotte announced as she walked around me, glancing at my chest. “My, what big boobs you have.”
“I’m not Red Riding Hood, and you aren’t the big bad perverted wolf.”
She chuckled. “I never would have guessed you could pull off the old lady.”
Mason grunted and headed for the door. “Let’s go.”
He pulled open the door to find Jitters standing on the stoop. His gaze went past Mason’s to mine, and the color drained from his face. He took an unconscious step back as we walked out with Charlotte behind us.
“Grammy Blue?” His words were a whisper, and I grinned without breaking character. I took my time down the steps with the use of my cane. “Don’t tell me that Cree has also figured a way to raise the dead.”
Charlotte took Jitters by the hand and pulled him into the house as I made it to the SUV. She called out, “Have her back before curfew.”
“You must resemble your grandmother.”
I grinned as I fought the cane, stabbing it into the floorboard.
He took it from me and gently laid it so that it would rest against the center console. “Thanks. If you were to see pictures of both of us at my age, people would have thought we were sisters, if not twins.”
He nodded and turned around in the drive, heading out onto the highway.
“I was almost certain you weren’t going to take me. What changed your mind?”
“When I told Faraday about you wanting to go to his house, he said that you’d just end up breaking in.”
That was probably true, although I’d been a little concerned about anyone who might help getting into trouble too.
“Did you tell his guards to give me access?”
“Of course, I said I would.” Mason turned quiet with his eyes on the road until he glanced my way out of the corner of his eye. “So have you been like….that your whole life?”
“You mean sexy cop stripper or southern grandma?” I grinned.
He gave me a sideways smirk.
“Oh, you’re talking about dead people and knowing things. No, not my whole life,” I answered, turning my gaze to the window. “If I had to describe it, it was like someone one day decided, hey, let’s screw with her, and flicked a switch and bam. I knew things without asking and was just blurting them out.”
“Like lottery numbers?”
I lolled my head in his direction. “Something like that, although I’d never play the numbers. It might kill my karma if I did.”
“Karma.” He grunted. Cops seldom believed in things they couldn’t explain. That was why I’d never wear a badge. I believed in the impossible growing up listening to legendary tales from Grammy and my dad how they helped people in a different kind of way. The kind of way that couldn’t be proved or seen with the naked eye. I didn’t give much thought into how it all worked or why, only that it did.
“Imagine knowing something about every person you meet. Most of the time I try to shield myself from the incoming messages. I never try to overstep my bounds.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he said, pulling into Faraday’s drive.
Crime scene tape stretched around the house and through the trees. A sense of foreboding filled my veins as if my body knew exactly what had happened behind those walls.
Don’t go in. A stoplight flashed in my head. Instead of the yellow, green and red, it was filled with all red and flashing. I shoved the uneasy feeling aside and climbed out of the car. I’d gotten this far. No way was I turning around now.
“You good?” Mason asked as he waited in front of the car.
I used my cane, taking my time as Mason let his gaze scan the wooded area. He ushered me by the elbow up to the porch stairs and raised the tape for me to pass before using a key to unlock the door.
“So how does this work if there isn’t a dead person?”
I shrugged. I’d never worked a crime scene. “I work with the energy from items. If it's highly charged energy, then I can usually get images and potentially more with the help of my guides. Sometimes it’s like a movie. Other times, I’m not so lucky.”
I stepped into the darkened house. The curtains and blinds were open across the room, bathing moonlight across the small dining room table. The only other light came from the laundry room that led to the garage.
“Go to town,” Mason said.
The chair facing the television held a lot of energy. Every time I stopped by to visit on Farada
y's days off, I often found him sitting in it and drinking a beer. It was a mixture of Faraday’s hard-nose energy and something much more sinister.
I stood behind it and inhaled, calming my churning stomach. Blood covered the cushions, arms, and some of the headrest, making my stomach churn as the smell assaulted my nose. The hair on my neck prickled, as did the energy that was drawing me to touch it. I closed my eyes and opened the veil. That was the place where I like to think the information I shouldn’t know came from. A high-pitched hum started in my ears as I reached out to touch the chair.
Visions slid into my mind in quick succession. “There were three.”
I let out a shaky breath and continued. “He was hit from behind.” I was getting woozy from the angry energy. My legs felt like noodles. I dropped to a crouch without breaking the connection. “A baseball bat.” I pointed toward the floor. “He was bleeding from his head.” I touched the back of mine to show where. “Oh, God, no.”
“What?” Mason asked.
“They have a gun to his head. His eyes are open. He’s looking directly at the masked man.”
“What are they saying, Blue?”
“Give us a name,” I repeated over and over again and watched in horror as they beat Faraday. “They’re hitting him because he won’t answer.”
A tear rolled down my cheek, the scene to unbearable to watch, but I forced myself to stay in the moment. “They lifted his head by his hair. Blood gurgled from his lips. ‘Who told you about Moreno’s gun, and where did you get it?’ The guy is yelling at him…”
“Talk to me, Cree. What are they doing?”
I shook my head as if trying to un-see the brutality. “Faraday spat blood from his mouth and told them to go to hell.”
“He shoved Faraday’s head back against the floor and stood over him with the gun.” My heart raced in response, and when the guy pulled the trigger twice, it made me jump. “They shot him twice; once in the chest, the other missed and hit his arm.”
“Give me a description, Blue. What are they wearing? Hair color, eyes, anything.”
“They’re all wearing black with ski masks, and they’re about your height and build,” I answered, unable to take my eyes off Faraday. I held out a hand to where he lay as if to touch him as more tears slid down my face.
“What did they do next?”
I pulled my gaze away to watch the men. “They’re searching for something. They’re mad. One is yelling at the other, asking why they hell he killed him, but the other one isn’t answering.” I continued describing the chaos I was seeing. “The guy with the gun picked up Faraday’s phone as the other one was peering down into an air vent yelling…I can’t fucking get it. Then the gun guy grabbed the other by the shirt and yanked him off the floor. Leave it. The cops will never find it.”
The garage door burst open. “Another guy from the garage walked in and said…It’s done.”
My eyes flew open. Mason was standing over me and held out his hand to help me stand.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more.” A tear slid down my cheek. Mason rested his hand on my face and swept the trail of moisture with the pad of his thumb. “You did great.”
My eyes slid closed as my heart clenched. I’d done nothing. I couldn’t give him a face or even much of a description of the thugs that had done this to Faraday.
“They left something behind,” I said, replaying the scene in my mind. I turned in place, scanning the area where the other guy was on the floor. “There.” I pointed to the vent near the fireplace. “They left something in there.”
Mason dropped his hold and moved quickly to the air vent. He used his keys to work the screws out of place and moved the vent aside before grabbing a pen from the table and pulling the single spent shell casing out of the small area. A smile split his lip as he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “There was a shell casing left behind at Faraday’s. Have a lab tech ready to dust for prints and run ballistics. I’ll be back in the office within the hour.”
I walked into the kitchen and returned with a sandwich bag for the shell casing. It wasn’t much of a find, but I hoped it might help.
“Where was the third guy?” I asked, closing my eyes and trying to remember. I turned toward the garage door.
Leave. Leave now. Urgency slid down my spine as goosebumps covered me from head to toe. Truth. Goosebumps were always my sign for when I was interpreting the message dead accurate. A look of sheer panic must have crossed my face.
“What’s wrong?”
“We need to go,” I answered. “Now. We need to get out.”
Mason’s brows dipped as he held my gaze. “You’re safe here, Blue.”
I shook my head. “We need to leave.”
I didn’t wait around for him to believe me; if I had, I might be waiting for the next ice age. I grabbed my cane and hurried to the door. I adjusted my wig out of my eyes and yanked the door open, trying my best to act like an old woman with a quick gait toward the SUV. I jumped inside, waiting impatiently for Mason to do the same.
Mason was a little slower to follow. He held my gaze as he headed for the SUV. He’d almost made it to the car when the house exploded behind him, sending him crashing against the windshield. A ball of flames exploded into the night sky, and I hurried out of the car and climbed on the hood, resting my fingers on his neck. I closed my eyes, thankful to feel the beat. A sigh of relief left my lips to find that it was strong.
“Run.” His eyes shot open, and he held my gaze before his eyes rolled back in his head and his eyes closed once again.
I couldn’t run. I couldn’t leave him. I grabbed my phone and dialed 911 screaming, “Officer down!” and giving them the address.
The fire was climbing as other little explosions sounded from the house. I grabbed Mason’s keys, and with him still on the hood, I jumped in behind the wheel and moved the SUV farther out of harm’s way before climbing back out. I lifted my dress and climbed back up on the hood where Mason was lying unconscious. I was afraid to move him, afraid I might hurt him more.
Move. My gaze scanned the tree line, and I saw a silver glint. Boom. I heard the gunshot seconds before feathers were flying around my head. I glanced down at my pillow-encased body. A hole pierced the right side of the dress, with another one on the left. “Crap.”
I grabbed Mason by the lapels and rolled with him until we both landed with a grunt on the ground. My breath forcefully whooshed from my lungs, and I struggled to breathe with the weight of Mason’s body lying on top of mine. I coughed while struggling to roll him off. I heard the wails of sirens getting closer. Red and blue lights danced through the woods seconds before police and fire vehicles pulled into the driveway and chaos ensued.
One of the detectives came for us, followed by medics. I pointed toward where I’d seen the glint of silver. “There was a shooter in the treeline.”
The detective rose from his spot and started barking orders to the others who’d arrived on scene. Several went running for the trees as the firefighters began to unwind their hose.
A medic was working on Mason.
“Are you hurt?”
I yanked out the pillow that I’d wrapped around me underneath the dress. I slid my fingers into one of the holes. “I had a cushion take the shot and break my fall.”
His brows dipped, but he ignored the questions I knew he wanted to ask. The wig slipped to the side, and I yanked it off just as Mason’s eyes opened for the first time. A groan slipped his lips as he turned away from the paramedic to find me sitting beside him. “You okay?”
I nodded. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”
His gaze turned to the fire raging in the sky. “You saved us.”
“I followed instructions.” I grinned. “Something you should try, maybe a bit quicker next time.”
The medic helped Mason into a sitting position. “Let’s get you in the ambulance. You’ve got a concussion, and we need to bandage the cuts on your face.”
> “Which officer showed up first?” he asked the medic and then turned his gaze on me. I shrugged. “I told them there was a shooter in the trees, and they took off running in that direction.”
Mason’s jaw ticked, and he pushed himself to stand, wobbling on his legs.
“Detective Spencer, you shouldn’t be….”
Mason ignored him and rose, holding out his hand to me. “Let’s go.”
I took his hand, and he paused, staring at the crimson on my hands. “You’re hurt?”
I shook my head. “It’s not my blood. It’s yours.”
Mason ran his hand through his hair, and his fingers came away with blood. “Last thing I remember was being on the hood. How did I get to the ground?”
“I moved us both when the first bullet rang out.”
“We were shot at? Did you get hit?” he echoed the same question he’d already asked. I seriously considered telling him ‘yes,’ since that was the answer he was looking for.
I held up the pillow and showed him both holes. “My pillow isn’t as fluffy if that’s the answer you’re looking for.”
Mason’s legs wobbled, and I quickly wrapped my arm around his waist. “Let’s get you to the ambulance.”
“I'm all right,” he said with slurred words.
“Good, you’re a cop and a doctor because I have this pain in my ass. I call him Leonard. Maybe you can prescribe some ointment.” Men.
I helped him to the waiting ambulance and watched the medics climb inside to get him lying down on the gurney. They grabbed the doors to shut them, and he stopped them. “She comes with me.”
“I’m not hurt,” I reiterated like a broken record. I was beginning to think he’d lost some of his brain cells when he bumped his head.
“Someone blew up Faraday’s house and then shot at us from the woods. You. Are. Coming. With. Me.”
“Really, it’s okay. I’ll call a friend to pick me up.”
He held my gaze, his unrelenting. “They’re going to want to question you about why we were here.”
“Right,” I said, climbing up into the ambulance. “I’m going with him.”
“I knew you were smart the first day we met, he said, leaning back onto the gurney.
Visions and Spells Page 3
