Gypsy Hunted: a psychic paranormal book with a touch of romance (The Gypsy Medium Series 1)

by Andrea Drew

  “What, in the hospital?” I stared down at my hands, my mouth suddenly dry.

  “Stranger things have happened. I would hate for anything to happen to you,” said Connor quietly.

  Were we having a moment here in hospital? It would be a whole lot better if we were at home. The faceless bastard had a lot to answer for.

  “It would be better if you went somewhere safe once you’re discharged,” said Connor, his brow creasing.

  “Now that you mention it, Renee is insistent that I move in with her and my sister when I’m discharged.”

  “That’s good, but I’d feel better if you were further away. Are there any relatives interstate that would take you in for a while?”

  “No. I don’t see why I should change my entire life for this bastard. I didn’t do anything wrong!” I could feel my face flushing.

  “You’re right, Gypsy, you shouldn’t,” said Connor, his voice quiet. “It’s only a precaution, just in case.”

  I heard a buzzing noise—his telephone, which he reached inside his jacket to answer. “I’m sorry,” he said, gazing at his phone.

  There was a pause as he read the message and a look flickered across his face. I heard him swear quietly.

  “I’m sorry, Gypsy, I have to go. I’ve tried to get in touch with someone key to the investigation and they’ve messaged me back.”

  Connor was already up and off the bed, and almost out of the room before I found my words.

  “Connor, what’s going on? Connor?”

  But he was already gone.

  *****

  Connor bounded out of the ward, phone plastered to his ear. Finally, Aaron had sent a text and messaged him.

  Pausing in a stairwell, he dialed the number. It rang twice.

  “Connor?”

  “Aaron, where are you?”

  “On the move, listen…”

  “Let me help, we can work this out together. Where are you?”

  “Don’t start with the usual cop bullshit, okay? Tiran’s dead.”

  “What?” Connor stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “What are you talking about?”

  “I went home to see Bailey. I found Tiran’s body.” His voice was ominously low. “I’ve done some bad shit, but I didn’t kill her. I need you to find the bastard that did.”

  “Aaron, where are you? I can come and see you, we can work this out.” Connor felt the vibration at the back of his throat, wondering if his voice had risen in pitch. He didn’t want to sound too anxious, because it might scare Aaron off.

  “We’re past that, it’s too late.” Aaron’s voice grew harder, his breathing noisy. “Look, I took Jo, she’s with me, but I didn’t kill her or Tiran. Jo had a report on her, a list of possible bent cops; I saw your name wasn’t there. One of them probably paid Tiran a visit, though…”

  “Aaron, let me help.”

  “Find the bastard that did this. I’m counting on you.” The phone beeped in Connor's ear. Aaron had hung up.

  “Damn.” Connor jerked his head. He was outside the hospital. He picked up the phone again, dialing the number for Robson.

  “Ian? Yeah, think we might have a homicide. Meet me at Aaron’s place, I’ll send through the address.” Connor stalked off toward the car.

  *****

  Aaron was on his way back to the factory when he heard the news broadcast on the radio. The pigs had taken Jo. She was his, not theirs. He slammed on the brakes and howled with his mouth wide open, an animal guttural sound. He’d forgotten Bailey was in the car and now his son, distressed at the noise, was screaming at the top of his lungs. Shit. He pulled the van over to the shoulder of the road and flung himself out. He screamed again, wailing. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t meant to be like this. They were meant to be a family. He picked up a large rock and threw it into a nearby field. When that didn’t release his anger, he jumped, screamed, and kicked over a couple of fence posts. Bailey had gone quiet. He knew what he had to do. There were loose ends to tie up. He’d visit Stewart again. He had contacts and would help with the next step. Once he paid the stupid old bag a visit, he could move on.

  He got back into the van and pulled a bottle out of the bag. Passing it over, Bailey took it and grabbed onto it like a lifeline, gripping it with his mouth and sucking on it hungrily. Taking a deep breath, Aaron started the car and pulled back into the main highway. He could be at Stewie’s place in ten minutes.

  *****

  Connor pulled up to the front of Tiran and Aaron’s home, hearing the tires on the gravel as he braked hard. His pace quickened as he headed for the boot to retrieve a pair of gloves and coverings for his shoes. In just a few strides, he reached the front patio, already snapping on his gloves. Stepping over the tape, Connor nodded at the constable guarding entrance to the property, taking the clipboard he held to sign in and headed up the porch stairs to step inside the front door. Ian Robson was standing by the body in the hallway.

  Connor put the coverings on over his shoes to prevent crime scene contamination. The coroner’s technician had arrived and was conducting a preliminary examination. Investigators were taking photographs and had begun marking off areas with tape, pacing as they marked each blocked off section.

  “Ian, what’s going on?” Connor knew he wasn’t his usual self, struggling against giddiness. He’d known Tiran for a long time. This was the last outcome he’d imagined, never anticipating her murder, at that moment the numbness reassuring.

  “Strangulation.” Ian seemed distracted, pushing aside the tape and throwing his pen onto a side table.

  “I talked to her not long ago and she was fine.” Connor ran his fingers through his hair as he paced the small area.

  “Bailey is gone. Aaron has him,” Connor added, looking at Ian. “Tiran’s partner. He called to tell me about Tiran. He found her body.”

  “You spoke to him?” Ian stood still, his voice steady.

  “Yes, he asked me to investigate, said it wasn’t him.”

  Ian laughed roughly. “Oh well, case closed then.”

  The medical examiner spoke up, “No sign of forced entry.”

  “Holy shit,” whispered Connor, the possibilities racing through his mind.

  “So where’s this nephew of yours, Connor? First that woman turns up almost dead in your warehouse, now his girlfriend winds up strangled, the baby nowhere to be seen,” said Robbo, looking at Connor.

  “I need to find him. I think it’s time to pay one of his old dealers a visit. Stewart. If I know Aaron, he’ll go there to work out what to do next.” Connor placed a hand out beside him looking for a surface to lean on to combat the reeling.

  “Well, what are we waiting for? The team has it under control. She’s one of yours. We both know the care they’ll take. Let’s go.”

  Connor was surprised at his partner’s all business approach. He hadn’t known her but still…

  “I can’t leave now, she’s family. I promised Aaron…”

  He walked over to Tiran’s lifeless body. Her open eyes were glassy, her protruding tongue swollen and purple. Her body was lying at a strange angle between the wall and the floor.

  “I can’t believe this. I talked to her yesterday. We thought Aaron would come home after he’d calmed down. Aaron doesn’t have this in him. Kidnapping maybe, but murder, that’s the last thing I expected.”

  “No one ever does, mate. People can always surprise us.”

  Connor approached the coroner’s technician, Jacqui Gilbert. “I don’t suppose you have an approximate time of death yet, Jacqui?” His chest was itching up again and he tried not to scratch it.

  “Judging by the bruising on the neck and rigor mortis, I’d say tentatively sometime between 11 pm last night and 3 am this morning. I’ll know more once I get her to the morgue. She put up a fight, though—we’ve found clothing fibers on the body and taken scrapings from under her nails.”

  “Thanks, Jacqui. Once you give me the all clear, I’ll drop by.”

  “Let me guess, this
one is a priority, right?” said Jacqui. As she leaned back on her heels, she wrote down notes on a clipboard.

  “Yeah, if you could, I appreciate it. She was my nephew’s de facto.”

  “Hmm, I heard. I’m sorry, Connor.” She looked down as she eased Tiran’s right limb gently to the ground.

  “Well, Connor, I don’t know about you, but I think it’s about time we paid this dealer a visit,” said Ian, adjusting his glasses.

  “Like I said, Robbo, she’s family. I can’t just walk out of here.”

  “Don’t you think the best thing you can do for her right now is find Aaron? I don’t care what he says, this doesn’t look good. The sooner we can find him the better.”

  “I don’t know Ian…”

  “Connor, let’s go. You’ve been itching to find him for days. He’s hiding somewhere and we need to find him before it’s too late.”

  11

  Leah arrived home from work haggard and worn out, her face grey and lined. Turning the key in the lock, she dropped the shopping bags on the table, and sank into a chair. They were really cranking up the pressure at work since they’d started making cuts.

  Renee bounded in, with her smile lighting up the room.

  “Mum, Mum! Guess what? Gyp says she’s going to move in with us when she leaves the hospital! Isn’t that great?” She was jumping up and down on the spot, her hands clasped together in delight.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I talked to her today and warned her about the man. He’s been looking for her. I told her it’s not safe to go home, so she should stay with us for a while until things calm down.” Two round rosy circles had formed on her cheeks.

  “When did you go to the hospital? How did you get there?”

  “Well…I, er… did that thing. You know that Gypsy and I do.” Renee was shuffling her feet now and staring at the ground.

  “Oh right, yes, that thing.” Leah moved away and started packing food supplies into the refrigerator. She looked past her daughter to the cupboard behind.

  “I’ll have to think about this, Renee. It’s been a long time since Gypsy and I lived together. I’m more worried about you at the moment. You know to wait at the school office and someone will escort you home, right?” Leah put the shopping away.

  “Mum, please! It’s important. She’s not safe to go home. That bad man is looking for her!”

  “Renee, I need to think about it. If you like, we can go in and see her again. I didn’t think she’d be coming home so soon…”

  “Okay, Mum, we’ll go and see her again.” Leah looked at her daughter as she left the room. Leah knew Renee would tell her to lighten up, but she had a bad feeling about this.

  *****

  Aaron pulled up outside Stewart’s house. He grabbed the bag of nappies, bottles, and his son, Bailey, with his right hand. With the other hand, he grabbed the car seat and slammed the car door closed with one knee. Walking across to the gate, he jammed it open with his knee, swinging it open with a clang of metal. The knee-high grass was wet from the rain. At the top of the steps, he raised a fist to pound on the door.

  The door swung open and Stewart’s face appeared, his bloodshot eyes and mouth both gaping wide.

  “Aaron, what the…” He had a few day’s growth on his face, and his brown hair was standing on end at odd angles. The tracksuit had been changed and was no longer stained. Preparing himself, he cleared his throat, voice still hoarse and eyes red-rimmed.

  “Is that how you talk to you best customers, Stewie?” At Aaron's menacing tone, Stewart took a step back, allowing Aaron entry into his home. The place had an air of neglect about it, and smelled like unwashed clothing combined with mildew.

  “What’s going on, mate?” said Stewart frowning.

  “Something important,” Aaron grunted. “Where’s Karen? I need her to look after Bailey for a day or two.”

  “We’re not really set up for babies, mate.” Stewart scratched his groin, before sitting down in the dusty armchair. “Hang on a minute, Karen’s out the back. Karen! Karen! In here, love.”

  Aaron came further into the lounge, shoving aside clothes piled up on a grotty looking armchair so he could sit down. Bailey wriggled on his lap.

  Karen called out from the back of the house, “What’s wrong?” The back screen door banged behind her as she came in. “I was just hanging out some washing.”

  Karen had dark stringy hair, with pale skin and dark circles under her eyes. She was so thin that her clothes hung off her. The smell of alcohol hung like a cloud as she padded further into the room.

  “Oh, he’s so cute! Can I hold him?”

  Aaron handed Bailey over.

  “Haven’t seen you in a while,” she said, hoisting Bailey onto one hip.

  “No, I’ve got something important to sort out. I just need Bailey taken care of for a day or two. There are bottles, clothes and nappies in there.” Aaron barely looked at Karen as he spoke, focusing his stare on Stewart. He needed results now.

  “No problem, I’ll be happy to take him. We’ll have so much fun together, won’t we, Bailey? I think I’ve got some cereal out back. He’s probably hungry.” Tickling Bailey's tummy, Karen headed toward the rear of the house.

  As she left the room, Stewart shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “So what’s this all about? I got you the license plates and now you show up with the baby, what’s the go?” Stewart scratched the bristles on his chin.

  “You remember that bloke you mentioned? The one that has connections and can get addresses and personal stuff? I need his help.” Aaron rubbed his hands on his jeans.

  “For who? What’s going on?”

  “I can’t really say too much about it, but trust me, it’s important. I need the address of Gypsy Shields, her phone numbers, the works.”

  “All right, I’ll see what I can do, but it’ll cost you.”

  “Stewie, I’ve done enough business with you that I reckon you can organize this favor for me.” Aaron looked at Stewie with teeth clenched.

  “Leave it with me.”

  “Get it soon. This one’s urgent. Call me once you have what I need.” Aaron slowly lifted his bulk from the chair. Stewart flinched slightly his head jerking back as Aaron headed for the door.

  “Okay, mate, you got it. I’ll be in touch soon.”

  *****

  Connor and Ian pulled up at the curb in front of Stewart’s house. Ian looked across at Connor, his hand perched over the lever ready to open the car door.

  “You ready for this, mate?”

  Connor had both hands on the steering wheel, and as he stared at them, he noticed his knuckles were white.

  “Connor? You ready?” Ian’s words jolted Connor out of his reverie and he dropped his hands from the steering wheel.

  “Yeah, I’m ready.” He opened the car door and got out.

  The front yard was littered with rusted car parts, knee-high weeds growing in between them.

  Stewart’s eyes rounded with surprise as he spotted Connor's badge. He didn’t have any weed in the house that he remembered, but cops always made him nervous.

  “Hello?” he said.

  “Are you Stewart Johnson? I’m DC Reardon, and this is DC Robson,” said Connor, flashing his badge quickly.

  “What’s this all about?” said Stewart, taking a small step backwards.

  “We’re here about a murder. A young woman—you might know her, Tiran Goldstein.”

  “Tiran’s dead? What the…” Stewart shuffled back a step and his grip on the door tightened.

  “We’re hoping you can help us with our enquiries. We’re looking for Aaron Reardon,” said Ian, stepping forward. “Can we come in?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about this.” Stewart started to close the door, but Ian jammed a foot inside the doorway.

  “Actually, we think you do,” Ian said. “We know that you used to be Aaron’s dealer, probably still are. He’s gone missing. Has he been to see you rece
ntly?”

  “Well…”

  “Look, Stewart,” Ian said, taking a step inside the doorway. “We can either do this here, or down at the station. Which would you prefer?”

  Stewart relented and opened the door further. “Okay, I guess you’d better come in then.”

  Connor and Ian walked into the hallway, the unwashed smell wafting across to them. The lounge was littered with food wrappers and clothing. Connor and Ian sat on a ripped couch.

  “Nice place you’ve got here,” said Ian with a sneer.

  Connor shot him a warning look.

  “So, what can you tell us about Aaron? Has he visited you recently?” Connor pulled out a notepad and pen from his pocket.

  “What happened to Tiran?” said Stewart, kicking some clothes out of the way, as he sat. The vinyl crackled as his weight hit the chair.

  “She was murdered, strangled. Their son Bailey has disappeared. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Connor leaned forward in the chair, one forearm across his right leg.

  At that moment, a baby’s cry echoed from the back of the house.

  That sounded like Bailey. Surely, it wasn’t though, he probably just imagined it. Had Aaron been here? He’d felt the creeping dread for days. He was certain Aaron wasn’t the killer, but why the hell did he abduct Joanne Seyers? What was he thinking? And what would compel him to leave his son with a known drug dealer?

  Connor’s sympathy for his nephew was wearing thin. He didn’t think this was the work of a disturbed young adult with a troubled past. It was the work of a tormented soul with evil intentions. He struggled to find the right words to explain it all.

  Connor scratched his right cheek and stood up. He took a step toward the back of the house.

  “You have children?” He took another step towards the source of the crying.

  “Hang on a sec.” Stewart stood up and followed him. “Karen? Are you there, love? The police are here,” he called toward the back of the house.

  Karen emerged carrying Bailey, smiling happily.

  “What the hell is Bailey doing here, Stewart?” Connor's teeth were clenched.