Tuesday's Child (Book 1 of Psychic Visions, a paranormal romantic suspense)

by Dale Mayer

  "Red, small, two door. Can't see a license plate. He's watching her get in the car."

  Brandt, on a sudden thought, asked, "Sam, is he sitting inside his car?"

  After a long moment, Sam nodded. "I can't see much. The windshield is tinted blue green. The seats are dark green."

  "Bench seats or individual?"

  "Bench."

  "Old or new?"

  "Can't tell."

  After that the questions came hard and fast from all sides. Some she answered and more she couldn't. After fifteen minutes, all three of them had run out. Brandt couldn't believe it. He was exhausted, so he could only imagine how Sam felt. In fact, he leaned over to find she'd fallen asleep. He reached to tug the coat higher up her shoulders.

  Nodding to the others, Brandt followed the men outside and closed the door behind them. Once in the hallway, Brandt leaned against the closed door and looked at the other two. "So, what do you make of it?"

  Captain Johansen grimaced. "I have no idea. I sure as hell hope she's giving us viable information. But we don't have much else to go on. Period."

  Kevin spoke up. "We might find a different DNA on the earring versus DNA of the ear. That will give us some idea."

  "That will help. Sam had mentioned this victim before. I came up with two possible women. One is in the morgue and one is in a coma at Portland General. We can check to see if one of the women was wearing the matching earring. If the victim is dead, then we're too late to help her. We'll need to check her for forensic information, but other than that, we should be trying to find his next victim."

  Pursing his lips, Captain Johansen agreed. "I'll go to the lab now and talk to them. What do we do about her?"

  "She needs to sleep this off. Her energy level drops quickly with these visions." That was a given. "I don't want to leave her for too long. She shouldn't wake up alone."

  Kevin nodded. "Stay with her and I'll start with phone calls and running car data. I may just owe her an apology." Leaving, Brandt staring after him open-mouthed. He smiled and walked to his office. Brandt raised an eyebrow at Captain Johansen who shrugged. "Don't know, but I'm heading to the lab to make sure they don't screw this up."

  Ten minutes later, after making a few phone calls of his own, Brandt opened the captain's office door to check on Sam. He must have woken her for she sat up, startled and nervous.

  "Shh, Sam. It's okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." He walked in and sat at the edge of the couch beside her, close, without touching. She peered at him, still groggy.

  "Wow. I guess I fell asleep?"

  He smiled. "That you did. Not for long though, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes."

  She stood up uncertainly. "What time is it? Can I leave now?" She searched around anxiously. "Where's my purse?"

  "Take it easy. First, it's not that late. You've been here for just over an hour. Your purse is in my office, and yes, you can leave." He opened his arms, closing them around her as she walked into his embrace. "There, that wasn't so hard was it?"

  She stared at him, fatigue pulling at her features.

  Brandt hurt for her. She had to be exhausted. "I want you to stay and rest for a bit."

  "I'm fine." She visibly straightened and produced a stronger smile. Brandt wasn't fooled in the least.

  "Have you eaten?"

  Confusion clouded her face. "I think so."

  He nodded. " I may have found the drugged woman. She came in during the right time period – and with one earring missing. I'm on my way over to check it against the one that just arrived. The lab has taken swabs of it to match DNA, if need be. The woman is alive, but she's in a coma."

  Sam's eyes widened. "But that's wonderful."

  "So far so good. Come on, let's find your purse and get you some food."

  ***

  1:50 pm

  Kevin hurried to his desk. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. Or heard. His mind had been blown, and it still had a frazzled edge to it.

  If he hadn't been there and seen it for himself... Well, he couldn't even go there yet. All his life, he'd thought he understood the ways of the world. He just didn't know anymore.

  He did know one thing – she couldn't have been making this up. He'd watched her very carefully. Her eyes had been blind, the pupils dilated and unfocused. She'd been almost comatose at one point, then completely awake at another.

  Her face had gone dead white, then flushed cherry red on her return. Her skin, God, her skin had been so thin and so blue. He shook her head.

  No one could have faked that.

  ***

  2:15 pm

  Now wasn't that interesting? Dillon kept his face impassive as he watched the chaos going on around him. He'd been on the phone when the woman had screamed. Detective Sutherland had a hell of a reputation with the ladies – but not this kind.

  Thinking she must be an informant of one kind or another, Dillon had initially ignored her. Until she'd screamed. Still he'd thought, hearing about the gruesome delivery, that it had to have been her reaction to the gift. But not after the preferential treatment she received in the captain's office. When that was followed by an intense session later, Dillon's interest was truly piqued.

  So this was the psychic Brandt was working with. If he hadn't seen her, he'd never have imagined this woman. Unbelievable. He laughed.

  By the time she walked out of the office, he had to admit, she did appear as if she'd been pushed through an old wringer washing machine. Brandt's careful handling confirmed one thing. Brandt must be sleeping with the weirdo witch. Brave man. And smart too. That was the best way to control a woman.

  And while Brandt stayed focused on her, it gave Dillon a chance to move in and on up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  7:48 pm

  The sun had lost its heat by the time Sam managed to get home. Seemed Moses couldn't contain his joy. She knew he hated it when she came in late. Soldier wagged his tail, his only concession to her arrival. It was a step in the right direction.

  She should have gone home after the vision, except working around the animals helped recharge her psychic batteries faster than anything else. Though working didn't help her physical energy levels, but they would recharge faster once her psychic energy levels where high again.

  Sam survived by shoving everything to the back of her mind and staying on task. Only once, had she fallen off balance – when she'd noticed the blue dangly earrings in Lucy's ears. It had been all she could to hold back the memories...and the tears. After that, Sam had stayed away from the others.

  Only when she tried to make it up her porch stairs and inside the cabin did Sam realize the hamburger Brandt had bought for her had been a long time ago.

  The kitchen seemed empty and cold. Leftover dishes in the sink, and an almost empty fridge added to the forlorn atmosphere. It took a moment of rooting through the cupboards before she found a can of soup and half-a-package of crackers.

  "Yeah, food." She turned on a burner and slowly warmed up the soup, munching on the crackers while waiting for the rest of the meal to catch up. Just before the soup had heated enough to eat, Sam fed her animals. Then it was her turn.

  She turned off the kitchen light and sat at the fading sun's rays. At some point in the last few days, the atmosphere inside the cabin had changed. The normal sense of security had disappeared. The darkness, instead of giving her peace, threw long scary shadows. It didn't feel right anymore. The loss of its solace devastated her.

  Feeling chilled, she cupped the cooling soup bowl, needing what warmth remained. She drank down the last of the broth then headed outside.

  With Moses at her heels, she walked to the dock. Hearing something behind her, Sam spun around, surprised to see Soldier hobbling after her. Happy with his progress, she ran toward him only to stop at his warning growl.

  "Damn it, Soldier. What do I have to do to gain some acceptance here?"

  His growl deepened.

  Crouched down close to him, Sam didn't know whe
ther to continue outside or head in. The sound of an approaching vehicle decided it for her. She stepped further into the shadows, glad she'd left the house in darkness. She knew the sound of Brandt's truck by now only it appeared identical to the asshole's truck who tried to run her off the road. She wasn't taking any chances.

  Silently, the dogs at her side, Sam kept to the darkness of the trees and watched as a vehicle approached. Powerful lights lit the way.

  At the house, the vehicle parked and a man got out. Sam squinted through the darkness. He looked like Brandt, yet she couldn't be sure. She refused to be the first to make a sound.

  The man approached the dark house warily.

  Sam watched just as cautiously.

  The man jumped up the stairs and knocked on the front door.

  He knocked again. He pivoted, searching the encroaching darkness. There was no way anyone could miss her truck parked out front. "Sam, are you in there?"

  It was Brandt. Joy lit the dark areas in her heart and filled them with a sense of security. Misplaced feelings or not, she was glad to see him.

  "I'm over here."

  Brandt turned in her direction. "Where?"

  "Down toward the dock." Still, she didn't move, waiting instead for him to approach her.

  "Why the hell are you wandering around outside in the dark?" He stormed in her direction. "And why the hell didn't you answer the phone?" As he approached, his face switched from worry, to exasperation, and finally to a building anger. "Do you know how many times I tried to call? Did you ever consider that someone might be worried about you – especially after the day you had?"

  Sam stepped forward so he could see her. "Hi." She pulled her phone out of her pocket, saying, "It's a beautiful night. Why shouldn't I be out?" Flipping her phone open, she groaned. "Shit. My battery is dead. I'm sorry, I never even checked."

  He shook his head. "Right. Of course, it is. There's no reason to be extra careful or accessible, huh?"

  Sam defended her actions. "I said I'm sorry. Besides, I have the dogs with me."

  "Not a lot of good they are going to be against a bullet or two, are they? Remember the last time?"

  She didn't need this. "So did you have an official reason for this visit or did you just come to yell at me?"

  "Sorry." He smiled slightly, reached out and snagged her into his arms where she cuddled right in. "I am sorry, but you scared the hell out of me when I couldn't reach you by phone. I've been trying for hours."

  Leading the way, Sam walked to the cabin. "As you can see, I'm fine." She didn't wait to see if he caught up with her. As she passed his truck, he stopped and opened the passenger door. Curious, she turned in time to see him pull an overnight bag out before locking up the vehicle.

  Sam glanced sidelong at the bag, but reality didn't hit until she'd opened the door. Excitement unfurled deep in her tummy. Her breath hitched even as a kernel of outrage sparked at his audacity. She didn't know how to react. How to feel. Excited and comforted, all mixed up with relief. She needed to know for sure. She turned around. "What's the bag for?"

  "If you won't look after yourself, then someone has to do it for you." Brandt walked around her and stepped inside. "Therefore, you have a houseguest." He walked over to the worn out couch and dropped his bag with a heavy thunk. "Besides, I have a couple of questions I need answered."

  Sam didn't want to give in so easily. He had a lot of nerve making this decision without her. And yet, she couldn't be happier. "Did you ever consider asking me?"

  "Asking – oh yeah, that's one of the questions I'd planned on putting to you earlier. But… Oh right, you wouldn't pick up the phone. So now I don't need to ask, do I?" He kicked back on the couch, his arms behind his head. His grin split his face in two.

  "Whatever." Sam pushed the door shut with a little more force than she'd planned. She reached for her answer to all life's ailments – tea.

  "So why didn't you know about the souvenir?"

  Sam stilled. Turning away from him, she pulled out two cups from the cupboard.

  "I won't go away."

  Sam sighed, poured two cupfulls before walking over to sit down opposite Brandt. "Are you sure?"

  He grinned. "Positive."

  Sam sat in silence, then sipped her tea, staring quietly at the irritating and highly amused man in front of her.

  "Get it through your head. I'm here for the long haul."

  Sam tilted her head to stare at him in confusion. Quickly, she glanced down again. Surely, he hadn't meant that, had he? But God, she hoped he had. She didn't know much about long hauling, but she'd like to.

  He sat up and leaned toward her. "So tell me why."

  She tried to focus on the conversation. As much as she didn't want to revisit the case, she knew he wouldn't lay off. "I didn't know because it was sliced off after the woman died. After I disconnected."

  Brandt's face was a study of emotions as he considered her words. "Then I guess it's a blessing that you didn't know."

  With a frown, Sam sat back. "I'm not always so lucky." Sam stopped, as emotion rose dangerously high. She swallowed heavily. "Once the victims die, I have a couple of minutes of adjustment. How they die and how long it takes them to disconnect, determines how long I am caught in limbo. Sometimes, I'm aware of what happens to their bodies after death if I'm still stuck there."

  Staring down at the table, her fingers traced the old pattern showing through the melamine top. "And sometimes," she said, raising her gaze slowly. "And sometimes, people think the victims are dead, but..." Tears clogged her voice. "But they aren't a hundred percent gone yet." Sam wiped her eyes with the back of her sweater sleeve. "They, and I, can feel every little thing then."

  Her vision blurred with tears and through it all she tried to see if Brandt understood. The look on his face broke her heart.

  "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you."

  "No. No. Don't feel that way." He reached across the table, his hand a protective cover over hers. He squeezed her hand. "It's just disturbing that you have to go through this all the time." His thumb stroked across the soft skin beside her thumb.

  "Working in law enforcement, I'm exposed to every horrific human experience. I should be used to it... It still catches me sometimes."

  Sam gently caught up his fingers in hers. "I know. It's the same for me. People can be vicious to each other."

  His lips twisted in a wry grin. "That's often why relationships don't work for law enforcement officers. If we marry someone not in the same field, then the partner doesn't have the understanding of what we go through every day. And if we marry another officer, then there is no leaving the work behind. Living with this level of violence every day, slowly wears down the relationship until nothing can hold it together."

  "How horrible."

  Moses barked, startling her. An odd sound rustled outside the cabin. Frowning, she went to the front door and stared out the window to the one side. The blackness showed nothing untoward. She opened the door to let both dogs outside then followed them. Brandt was suddenly at her side.

  "What did you hear?"

  "I'm not sure. Something was moving out here."

  "Wildlife?"

  She shook her head. "No. The dogs wouldn't react like that."

  In the distance, a faint rumbling sound could be heard. A vehicle.

  "Can you hear the highway from here?"

  "Occasionally. It depends on the weather." As her voice died away so too did the engine sound.

  "It has to be on the highway."

  "Unless someone drove part way and then walked the rest."

  The two stared at each other, uneasiness hanging heavy on the evening air.

  Sam stepped closer, linking her arm with his. "I forgot to say thank you for coming. I really don't want to be alone tonight."

  Survival had meant being alone before. She didn't know what to do with Brandt. Having sex once was one thing – didn't other people easily toss sex off as a momentary passionate lapse? Twice wel
l, didn't that constitute a relationship? She didn't do those. Or she hadn't done in a long time. And she was pretty sure, he didn't do them either. Better to clear the air and tell him, no matter how uncomfortable.

  "I need to tell you that I don't do relationships." Oh wasn't that smooth, Sam. Good job, Sam? How to advertise your inexperience and total lack of social skills.

  Brandt slowly turned around to stare at her. "Why not?"

  Heat pooled in her tummy at the sensuous vibes emanating from him. Her cheeks warmed, but she stood her ground. "I'm no good at them," she said baldly.