Clarity

by Kim Harrington

  Gabriel’s first instinct was the same as Justin’s. “Who wouldn’t feel bad after being rejected?”

  “This was more than regular anger. It felt like …” I looked up at the ceiling while searching for the right words. “Imminent violence. Like his brain was snapping. He couldn’t take any more.”

  I paused and shook my head.

  “What?” Gabriel asked.

  “Something about the vision doesn’t make sense, but I can’t put my finger on what it is. Something’s nagging at me, I can almost catch it, but I just don’t know.”

  “Maybe you have feelings that are clouding it,” Justin said.

  I considered that for a moment. “It’s true that I can’t picture Stephen killing anyone. Or maybe I just don’t want it to be true.”

  “Plus,” Justin said, “Stephen was plastered that night. You saw the tape. He could barely walk, much less point a gun straight.”

  That was true. This wasn’t adding up. I dragged my hands through my hair in frustration.

  “He should at least be taken in and questioned, though,” Justin added.

  Gabriel nodded. “I’ll talk to my father in the morning.”

  “The morning?” Justin snapped. “Why not now?”

  Gabriel gave an exaggerated sigh. “First of all, we don’t have any evidence. Visions don’t count for anything.” He glanced at me. “And I’ve learned not to jump to conclusions about people’s guilt.”

  “You’re talking about Perry,” I said. “You believe me now that he didn’t do it?”

  Gabriel nervously wiped his hands back and forth on his jeans. “There are things I should have told you before, to help explain why I initially acted the way I did toward you. But they’re hard to talk about.”

  I waited for him to continue. Justin shifted uncomfortably.

  “Years ago, my little sister was abducted,” Gabriel began. “She’s never been found. We assume she’s dead.”

  I gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

  Gabriel leaned forward and pressed the palm of his hand on his forehead. I knew he was holding back intense emotions, trying to stay strong as he told the story.

  “My father used every spare moment to work the streets. He staked out known pedophiles. Searched dumpsters. Questioned countless people.” He paused. “My mother took a different route.”

  “What did she do?” Justin asked softly.

  “She spent all our money on psychics and mediums, and then pressed my father to waste his time running down their fake leads.”

  Gabriel stood and began pacing back and forth. “One lady said my sister was dead, tossed in some pond. We paid divers to look and found nothing. One lady said she was sold into the sex trade in Thailand. My mom spent thousands of dollars flying over there and searching for her. It was obvious to Dad and I that these people were all frauds, using my mother’s grief and desperation to make themselves a buck. But Mom kept going to more and more of these people, despite the fact that they all gave her different answers.”

  Gabriel’s voice began to tremble. He took a moment to collect himself. “It eventually led to the destruction of their marriage. She’s married to the bottle now.”

  “Is that why you moved here?” I asked. “Because of the divorce?”

  “No, there’s more. Another girl was kidnapped. She was the same age as my sister was when she disappeared. They tracked down her abductor to this abandoned building. The girl was already dead when my father got there. Dad tried to get information out of the perp about my sister. The guy resisted arrest, they fought, the gun went off. Long story short, he ended up dead. No one shed any tears for that man. But my father lost his job. The powers that be determined that he used excessive force. We moved here to start over. And we’re still no closer to finding my sister. I’m starting to make peace with the fact that we never will.”

  We all stayed silent for a few moments. I was overwhelmed and had no idea what to say. I sat with my hand over my mouth as I replayed everything Gabriel had done and said with a new understanding. No wonder his father wanted no part of me helping the investigation. No wonder Gabriel had assumed I was a fraud from the start.

  “What’s your sister’s name?” Justin asked.

  “Victoria Toscano. We called her Vicki. She would be thirteen now.”

  I reeled back in my chair. Gabriel’s tattoo wasn’t proclaiming love for Victoria Happel. He had nothing to do with her. His tattoo was in remembrance of his sister. I wanted to punch myself in the face.

  Gabriel’s gaze locked on to me. “So, I’m sorry if I was a jerk.”

  “I can see why you’d have a thing against psychics,” I offered. “But you know that I’m not defrauding the people who come to see me, right? I’d never lie to them.”

  “I admit that you’re different, but I still don’t believe in any of this. I hope that doesn’t stop us from —” He glanced at Justin, then back at me. “Being friends.”

  “Of course not,” I said.

  “I should have told you sooner, but I can’t bear to talk about her. It’s too painful. And my father wanted a fresh start. But after our fight I decided it might be helpful for you to see it from my point of view. That’s why I came tonight.”

  I put my hand up to shush him. “Wait.”

  Gabriel spread his hands wide. “What did I say?”

  “Point of view. That’s it.” I stood up, twisting my fingers around each other, my heart racing as the answer clicked into place.

  Justin said, “Clare, what are you talking about?”

  “That’s what was bothering me. I did get the vision wrong. It wasn’t Stephen’s vision at all.”

  Gabriel and Justin looked at each other. “Huh?”

  “My visions are always from the point of view of the person having the experience.” I thought back to my vision of Victoria’s murder. I didn’t watch her get shot, I felt it.

  Justin rose, quickly understanding. “So if you saw Stephen’s face in the vision, it couldn’t have been Stephen’s experience. It was someone else watching it all unfold.”

  I nodded. “Someone else was feeling all that anger and hatred. Someone watching. Someone else who touched Cecile’s belt.”

  Realization dawned on me like a thunderbolt. “It was Cecile,” I said. “It all makes sense. It was her dress. We saw her on the tape. She walked in, left with Stephen, and then at some point came back. Cecile Clayworth killed Victoria Happel.”

  “That’s an interesting theory,” Gabriel said.

  My head snapped toward him. “Why?”

  “She was the one who called and placed Perry at the scene.”

  “Cecile was the mystery witness?” I was about to ask why Gabriel hadn’t told me but realized that once Perry was taken into custody, he would naturally stop sharing case information with me.

  “She said she saw Perry and the victim leaving Yummy’s arm in arm,” Gabriel said.

  “Which is true,” Justin noted. “She could have been doing her duty to help the investigation.”

  “Or to point it in the direction she wanted,” I said.

  “I don’t buy her as the killer,” Justin said. “Plus, going around shooting Billy and Joni to shut them up? She’s too prim and proper for that.”

  “She’s also a coldhearted bitch,” I said. “Everyone knows that.” I grabbed Gabriel’s arm. “It’s her. I know it. You have to tell your father to question her.”

  “We don’t have any evidence,” Gabriel said.

  “What evidence did you have on my brother when you took him in and searched my house? ”

  “We had a witness place him with the victim the night of her murder.”

  “Well now I’m a witness who’s placing Cecile Clayworth with the victim the night of the murder!”

  “There’s no motive!”

  He was right. Though I was convinced Cecile had killed Victoria, I didn’t know why. What had gotten her so angry? Watching her son get rejected would rile any mother, but not pu
sh them to the point of murder. I thought back to the vision again, the thoughts about Victoria ruining everything Cecile had worked for. This wasn’t a random killing. There was history there. If only Cecile could be brought into the station and questioned, the police might be able to get the information out of her. Or she might even break down and confess.

  “I heard her thoughts. Felt her emotions. I know it’s her. Play fair, Gabriel,” I said, desperately. “I know you think my visions are worthless. But give me this one chance to prove myself.”

  I didn’t care if Justin was watching, I grabbed Gabriel’s hands in mine and squeezed them. “Please.”

  “My father will never bring in a suspect or request a warrant based on a psychic vision,” Gabriel said.

  Justin stepped over to us. “Then lie.”

  “Excuse me?” Gabriel dropped my hands.

  “If you care about Clare at all, and I’m guessing you do, then lie.” Justin’s face was set in rigid determination. “Tell your father you found a witness who saw Cecile and Victoria get into it at the restaurant that night. There’s no need to mention the vision.”

  Gabriel looked at me, and I pleaded with my eyes.

  “Unless you don’t trust Clare,” Justin said. “If you think she’s a liar and a fraud like the others you’ve run into. If you think that, do nothing. If you believe in her, like I do, then you’ll do the right thing.”

  Gabriel stared at the rug. “I need to think about this.”

  “Please, Gabriel,” I said.

  “I’ll call you.” He turned and left.

  I tossed and turned all night, dreaming of Cecile Clayworth chasing me through the woods, a knife held high, an evil smile on her face. I still didn’t understand why Cecile would have gone on a killing spree. I felt like I had all the pieces, but I couldn’t fit them together. Maybe I was trying to force one into the wrong place. But I knew in my heart Cecile had killed Victoria. The force of the emotions in my vision convinced me of that.

  My cell phone chirped on my nightstand. I reached for it, expecting it to be the middle of the night, but the clock said eight a.m.

  “Gabriel?” I said, rubbing my eyes. He must have come to his decision. I hoped he’d made the right one and decided to trust me.

  “No, it’s Justin.”

  I sighed. Gabriel didn’t believe me. He hadn’t told his father. I’d have to find another way to prove Cecile’s guilt and save my brother. I’d have to start all over.

  “Good news,” Justin said. “Detective Toscano just brought Cecile Clayworth into the station.”

  I bolted upright in bed. “Seriously?”

  “I’m calling from my dad’s office. He promised to come upstairs and fill me in on the details as they happen. I’ll call you with updates.”

  “Screw that,” I said. “I’ll be there in a few.”

  I’d told Mom last night about my vision of Cecile and now ran into her room to tell her the good news. Mom was sitting up in bed, scratching her head. Her eyes widened at my harried entrance.

  “What’s got you all riled up?” she asked sleepily.

  “They’re questioning Cecile Clayworth at the station right now. Justin said we can go wait for updates with him in his father’s office.”

  Mom bolted up from the bed and began pacing the room. “This could all be over,” she said, pulling a sundress from a hanger in her closet and clutching it to her chest. She looked up at me with anxiously excited eyes.

  “Should we wake Perry?” I asked.

  “No, let him sleep. He hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in days. We’ll give him the news later when he wakes up.”

  I gave her a few minutes to get dressed and ready, then handed her the keys to Perry’s car, since hers was still minus one working tire. The drive downtown was a blur, and before I knew it, we had arrived. The morning sunshine glinted off the windows of the town hall. I felt like things were falling into place. Everything was going to be all right. Mom must have read my thoughts because she grabbed my hand and smiled as we walked upstairs to the mayor’s office.

  Justin greeted us. “Morning, Clare. Morning, Mrs. Fern.”

  My hesitant smile turned radiant as Justin gave me an encouraging nod. I felt light, almost like floating, at the prospect of my burdens lifting.

  “Is your father downstairs in the station?” Mom asked.

  “Yes. He’s going to come up to give us an update when he can.”

  I heard quick footsteps on the stairs and turned to find Nate, out of breath.

  “I knew I’d find you guys here,” he said. “Where’s Perry? ”

  “Sleeping,” I said. “We’ll wake him up when there’s news. Hopefully she’ll confess and this will all be over.”

  I took Nate by the arm out into the hallway, leaving my mother and Justin in the office.

  “Listen,” I said. “I don’t think you should run the story about the Toscanos. It’s not what you think.”

  “I know,” Nate said.

  I arched an eyebrow. “How?”

  “I got in touch with the ex-Mrs. Toscano. I finally caught her sober.”

  “So you know? About Gabriel’s little sister?”

  “Yeah. I’m letting it go.”

  I hugged him. “Thank you.”

  Loud footsteps came up the stairs, bringing my curious mother and Justin out into the hallway.

  Mr. Spellman reached the landing and his eyes widened. Apparently he wasn’t expecting this much of a crowd outside his office.

  “Is Cecile talking?” Mom asked.

  “Not yet. She just made her one phone call,” Mr. Spellman said.

  “To who?” I asked.

  “Her lawyer, I’d assume.”

  “That’s not good,” Justin said, shaking his head.

  Nate’s cell beeped, and he flipped it open. “Interesting,” he said, reading the text message.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “My boss says the Clayworth family is big into guns. Dallas and Stephen have won father-son competitions, and even Cecile is trained.”

  “Maybe that will encourage the police to search their house for the murder weapon,” Mom said.

  “I have to go,” Nate said, closing his phone. “My boss wants me to search through the archives for mentions of Cecile and guns and maybe even a photo of Cecile with a gun from some competition.” He smiled. “Interns get all the glamorous work.”

  As Nate trotted off, Mr. Spellman turned back to us. “Nothing’s going to happen for a while now. Cecile’s not talking until her lawyer gets here and then who knows how long it will take for her statement.”

  Mom said, “I still want to stay anyway. Clare, why don’t you go back, get some breakfast, and give Perry the news when he wakes up.”

  “I’ll walk with you,” Justin offered, and we walked out together.

  Only a week ago, I never thought I’d find myself walking beside Justin, in peace. But here we were, strolling along, enjoying the beautiful warmth of the morning sun. We didn’t talk much, and I didn’t mind. It was a comfortable silence. I didn’t want to slap him or yell at him. I didn’t want to fight about Tiffany. I didn’t even think about him with Tiffany, which was strange, considering that was all I had thought about every time I’d seen him the past three months. I’d never really stopped caring about him, and now I felt close to him again.

  Gabriel had believed me after all, enough to get his father to bring Cecile in anyway. Both Gabriel and Justin had come through for me and my family. A warm glow spread throughout my body, and as I took a deep breath of fresh air, I was enveloped in a sense of calm.

  When we reached my house, he walked me up the porch steps and turned to leave. Suddenly, I realized I didn’t want him to go.

  “Want to come in for a soda or something?” I asked.

  “Sure,” he said with a wide smile.

  I turned the knob, and the door opened. “Perry must be awake.” I’d locked the door behind me when we left.

 
; “Perry!” I called out.

  No response.

  Justin shrugged and said, “Must be in the shower.”

  I turned left to enter the kitchen, planning to grab us some Cokes from the fridge, then stopped short.

  A body was on the floor.

  All I saw were two feet sticking out from the other side of the kitchen island.

  “Perry?” I squeaked.

  I wanted to rush to his side, but a deep voice echoed in the foyer behind me.

  “Don’t. Move.”

  I slowly turned around and found a gun pointed at my head. My breath caught in my throat. I managed to squeeze out one word.

  “You?”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  “STAND NEXT TO HER,” STEPHEN CLAYWORTH yelled at Justin, waving the gun around. “Don’t make any stupid moves.”

  I stood in shock, unable to move even if I’d wanted to.

  Justin put his hands up and inched closer to me.

  “Cecile didn’t call the lawyer,” Justin said. “She called you.”

  Stephen smiled. “Smart boy. You could be mayor someday.”

  “Stephen, what are you doing?” I asked. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I was sure Cecile was the killer. The vision had been from her point of view.

  “My mother called me with an order for one more mess to be cleaned up. But don’t worry, I called the lawyer for her on my way over. She’ll be fine. You all, however.” He grinned, and his face transformed. It was a Stephen I’d never seen before.

  “Perry is unconscious in the kitchen,” he continued. “His prints will be all over this weapon. My mother and I will be free. And you will be dead and out of our hair forever.”

  Stephen pointed the gun at me.

  Justin let out a roar and charged toward him. Stephen aimed, fired off a shot, and Justin stopped like he’d hit a brick wall. He fell backward, and his body slammed onto the floor.