by Dale Mayer
She grinned at the anger in his voice. I have no idea. But I just heard you being called.
No, you couldn’t have, he said angrily. Nobody can hear that.
Somebody called you David.
Instantly he disappeared from her mind.
David. … That made him sound much more normal. More human. Less like an exalted all-powerful being with abilities she couldn’t combat. Because human meant he made mistakes. Buoyed by the thought that she had a weapon to turn against him, she quickly pulled around the block and parked outside her place. She got out, went into her apartment before he could see her traveling. Inside she locked the door, tossed down her purse, emptied her pockets of the money and threw herself onto the bed.
The phone call from Kirk had probably killed her limited energy reserves as well. “The least he could do was repay me for the prepaid minutes he used up on my cell,” she muttered out loud. And then she didn’t give a damn because she was already drifting off to sleep. But it wasn’t to be. A knock came at her door. She froze, petrified it was her voyeur. But, when she glanced around, she found it dark outside. Frowning, she sat up, rubbing her forehead. Her throat felt thick, her tongue swollen.
The knocking came again. “Queenie, answer the door.”
She groaned. “Kirk, what are you doing here?”
“If you open the door, I’ll tell you,” he said, his voice exasperated and angry.
Not sure she was up for him but feeling marginally better, she walked to the front door and opened it.
He stormed inside.
She looked at him and said, “You found her. Why are you so angry?”
“You didn’t know?”
She stared at him, seeing the banked rage in his gaze. She stood her ground. “What are you talking about?”
“Her face was covered with a cowboy-style handkerchief.”
Her hand went to cover her mouth, and slowly she shook her head. “No, no. That’s not possible.”
“You never saw the scarf before either, did you?”
She was still shaking her head as she stumbled into the living room, where she collapsed on her couch. “No. That’s not possible.” She started to hyperventilate, having trouble catching her breath.
Kirk grabbed her neck, bending her over to lower her face between her knees. “Breathe,” he ordered.
“I am breathing,” she whispered. But not enough. She took a deep breath, slowly returning to herself, her panic down to just an alarm setting. Finally, she sat back against the couch, curled her knees up to her chest, wrapped them tight with her arms and stared at him. “Was it the same knot?”
He sat down beside her. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “It’s possible. They were bringing in a forensic team to retrieve the body. But it would’ve been a couple hours yet before they were done, and I couldn’t stay.”
“But surely you would know.”
“I couldn’t see the knot.”
She stared at him. “Was it the same kind of handkerchief?”
Ever-so-slowly, he gave the answer she did not want to hear. He nodded. “Yes, it was.”
The shaking set in. She tried to squeeze her knees tighter against her chest, but now her whole body rattled. Within seconds her teeth chattered.
He gave a harsh exclamation and picked her up, pulling her into his arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t … I was afraid you knew and hadn’t told me. I knew you wouldn’t have withheld that information, but … then I didn’t know if I should tell you or not.”
She gave a broken cry. “Of course you had to tell me.”
“Why?” he whispered, holding her tight. “It can only bring you more pain.”
“How is it even possible that the Handkerchief Killer did this?” She searched his gaze. “Is he still in prison?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to check.”
“Or it’s a copycat,” she said slowly. Her mind kicked into gear. “It would have to be a copycat.”
“Possibly or he’s training somebody.”
She grimaced. “I never understood that.”
“How can anybody understand any of these people?” He was trying to interject a note of humor. “That guy killed four women.”
“And now somebody has killed a fifth.” She shook her head. “Maybe my visions were all wrong. Maybe the guy in my tent with the little boy had nothing to do with the murder.”
“That guy in your tent is another reason I’m here. Now that we found the body, we have to find her killer. You met him once. It would be helpful if you could connect again.”
She snorted. “What did you do without me all these years? Did you close any cases?” She pulled out of his arms, tumbled to her feet and walked into the kitchen.
He followed her, watching her every move like a hawk.
She hated that sensation, as if she was too frail, too childlike, too incapable of looking after herself, and so he would have to step in and take over. Granted, for part of their relationship, she had been like that. She’d driven herself so hard that she’d gotten sucked into the cases, and the world had dropped away. Kirk had looked after her as if she were a child.
Not a memory she wanted to examine closely.
She filled the teakettle and plugged it in. Her arms bracing her weight on the kitchen counter, she stared out the window. “It has to be a copycat,” she whispered. “Nothing else makes sense.”
But, regardless, she knew this would get ugly yet again.
“Any chance of you remembering the man in your tent? Any way to track who came and who went? Cameras? Sign-in sheets?”
She shook her head. “It’s not like we have memberships where people get their pictures taken and can use their card every time they come in. People buy tickets at the front entrance, but I get paid in cash for each transaction. That’s all. And I don’t even know if cameras are on the corner streets.”
“Can you remember his face?”
She waved a hand. “I can’t even remember the description I gave you originally at this point.”
“Why not?”
She turned to glare at him. “Because I’ve seen hundreds, literally hundreds, of people since then,” she snapped. “Don’t you get that?”
He took a step back and nodded. “I’m sorry. Of course you have. I gather you had a shitty day at work?”
She gave a broken laugh. “It’s not every day you find out your boss has been cheating you for the last few months, taking part of your money. But I caught him redhanded today, in front of everybody. And after telling everybody what he’d done, I walked. So I don’t have a job anymore. I’m missing half of my wages for the last few months, and I’m too damn tired to give a shit.”
“Good,” he said quietly. “That’s not where you should be working anyway.”
She gave a mocking laugh. “Says the person with a regular paycheck, a place to live and food on the table every day.” She shook her head.
When the teakettle whistled, she made herself a cup of tea. She didn’t even bother offering him one. He wasn’t a tea drinker anyway. She took her teacup onto the small balcony and sat down.
“I mean it,” he said. “Your talents are wasted there.”
“Well, that depends. That father got in to see Dr. Maddy. So then it wasn’t wasted, was it?”
“You know what I mean. You could be helping a lot more people.”
“Yeah, but people are willing to pay five dollars, and that’s about it for that kind of help.” Then she gave a broken laugh and said, “But I was thinking I could do a website, maybe do readings by email and even an online chat system.”
“You could,” he said, sitting down heavily. “Or you could come back and work for the police again.”
With a studied glare, she turned to face him. “What did you just say?”
He sighed heavily. “You know what I said. And I meant it.”
She snorted. “You might have, but I bet your boss doesn’t have a clue that you just said what you said.�
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*
Kirk stared at her. “Okay, so I haven’t talked to them yet.”
“Of course you haven’t. You know perfectly well what they’ll say,” she said in disgust. “Besides, I worked my heart out for them but never got paid.”
“Okay, I don’t know what they’ll say,” he said firmly. “I wouldn’t have you necessarily work for the department but be a contractor. Get paid this time. I’m sure other psychics out there do similar work. For a long time, your reputation held you in good stead. It’s not tarnished. You’ve been gone over five years. You could come back and do the same work again.”
“Contractor? That just takes me back to my website.”
“I don’t know that a website is necessarily a good idea,” he said cautiously. Visions of crystal balls flashing on a screen with Call me in the next five minutes to get the truth about your next love life came to him. He tried to block it out. “What I mean is, something classy and discreet would be good. Run it like a legitimate business, and I’m pretty sure you would find people all over the world looking for help.”
“People all over the world are looking for help,” she said quietly. “That’s what I was doing at the amusement park.”
“And now that you’re not there, what do you think will happen?” he asked curiously.
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. Except I do think Carlos will put somebody in who’ll just lie.”
“And how long before people don’t bother going back?”
She shook her head. “I don’t have answers for you.”
“What if, on your website, you said that’s who you were, but you’re now running your business independently?”
She frowned. “I don’t know how people would pay me if it was over a website.”
He waved his hand. “That’s minor. Set it up as a business with an online shopping cart. Set it up properly. Let everybody know you were at the amusement park, and now you’re on your own, and you also consult for police and detective agencies all across the country.”
“Across the globe,” she said absentmindedly. “It’s not just this country that I can help. It can be anywhere.”
He looked at her. “You know you’ve got a ready-made business right here.”
“I still have to pay for rent and food in the meantime, until I get it up and running,” she said, “and that’s not easy.”
“How much did he cheat you out of?”
“I can’t be sure.” But the figure $2,795 flashed through her head. Her lips turned down. “A number just flashed in my head that’s a hair under twenty-eight hundred.”
He whistled. “If you can get your money back, that would make all the difference in the world.”
“It would pay for a website and a month or two of living,” she admitted. “But I doubt he’ll give me my money back.”
*
“Would it help if I paid him a visit?”
She looked at Kirk in surprise. “Why would you do that?”
It was his turn to be surprised. Did she have such a low opinion of him? “If you make him think you’ve gone to the police and are likely to make an official case out of this, he might be quite willing to pay you back what he owes you.”
She thrummed the tabletop for a long moment. And then she shrugged. “It can’t hurt. I’m going tomorrow, as is everybody else, to get our money back. I gave him four hours’ notice to get to the bank before it closed for the day and get enough to cover what he’s figured out he owes us all.”
“And what makes you think he won’t skip town with the money?”
She stared at him. “I don’t think he can do that.”
“Why not?”
“He owns the machines and leases the land.”
“How much money do you think he’s cheated you all out of?”
“I really don’t like where you’re going with this,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “From my visions, I know he’s taken at least twenty grand from people. For all I know, it could be much more.”
“Well, if it’s almost twenty-eight hundred from just you, how many people work at the park? Forty?”
She nodded slowly. “So it could easily be a hundred grand.”
“Why would he stay and give that all back? It’d take him forever to make that kind of money. His other choice is to just grab the money and run, and leave you all sitting there, holding the empty bag as it were.” He watched as she slumped in the chair.
“I really don’t like where you’re going with that,” she said. “He wouldn’t do that, would he?”
Kirk stared at her steadily. “You’re the one with the psychic abilities, and I’m the one with human knowledge of what people will and will not do.”
She bolted to her feet. “Then come with me now. We’ll go back there and talk to him.”
Kirk slowly stood. “I can’t say it is the best time for it. I’m pretty tired myself.”
“But, if he’s taking off, he’ll be gone tonight. That means we have to go now.”
“Then let’s go for a drive.”
She said, “I’ll drive.”
“No,” he said. “You’re too tired. I remember talking to you earlier today, and you were barely able to get home.”
“Yeah, but the thought of him running away with everybody’s money is enough to make me sick.”
In his car, he headed toward the amusement park. It was open until nine, and it was almost that time now.
Once parked, they hopped out, and she strode toward the offices. Several employees raised a hand in greeting and watched her progress, her determined step. Not to mention the set of her shoulders, the jut of her chin.
Kirk smiled at the others as he followed behind.
She rapped hard on the office door. There was no answer. She tried the knob and pulled it open, stepped inside. She came back out seconds later and asked one of the men running the Ferris wheel, “Where’s Carlos?”
The guy shrugged. “He was at the other side of the fairgrounds. One of the bumper cars is having trouble.”
She nodded and headed toward the bumper cars.
Kirk looked around with interest. He’d never really spent much time here, not as a kid nor as an adult. It was pretty fascinating with a lot of activity. He thought about trying to keep the park running and wondered when it stopped being a passion and ended up just being a nasty headache.
At the bumper cars Queenie looked around, then spoke to a tall skinny man. Kirk watched her shake her head and turn to the left of the Ferris wheel and wondered if Carlos hadn’t already disappeared.
She walked back to him. “He saw Carlos about an hour ago but not since.”
“Inside the office, what did it look like?”
“Empty,” she said curtly.
“What about a vehicle?” he asked. “Does Carlos drive?”
She nodded and then headed around the back of the Ferris wheel. “Staff vehicles are over here, for those who live around here and live in their own trailers.”
She walked around another corner, and a dozen vehicles of various ages were parked haphazardly. And then she picked up her feet and ran. “Carlos,” she called out.
A man ahead of her jumped into a vehicle and turned on the engine. She ran after him.
Assessing the situation, Kirk, instead of going after Carlos, headed to the exit. There wasn’t much in the way of room for the vehicle to get out. He grabbed several planks of wood used to hold up truck canopies and made himself a blockade.
Carlos revved the engine, glaring at Kirk.
Kirk stood, pulling his shield out of his pocket and raising it so Carlos would understand, if he tried to run Kirk over, Carlos was attacking a police officer. Kirk watched as Carlos pounded the steering wheel. Queenie wrenched open the door and shouted at him.
As Carlos hopped out of the vehicle, Kirk reached in and pulled out the keys, shutting off the engine. He listened as Carlos yelled at Queenie.
“What the hell are you doing here?
We said tomorrow.”
“And then I figured how maybe you’d run out of town on us,” she yelled back.
While they argued, Kirk popped the trunk of Carlos’s car. Kirk had already seen multiple bags in the back seat. But what he wanted to know was whether Carlos was leaving for good or if he was just making deliveries of some kind. As Kirk opened the trunk, he whistled.
Carlos turned. “Hey, get out of there. That’s my stuff.”
“I don’t think it is now,” Kirk said. “Queenie, come take a look at this.”
She came around, and he watched the look of shock on her face as she eyed the bags full of money. She turned to Carlos. “You piece of shit. That’s everybody’s wages. We work from morning until night for you, and then you steal from us?” She pulled out her phone and made a call.
Kirk didn’t have a clue who she was talking to, but then he caught the name Jimbo and realized she was calling the rest of the staff.
Within seconds, they heard running footsteps. Kirk turned to see a half-dozen men coming toward them. They stopped at the trunk and stared. As their anger rose, Kirk could feel a bloodbath building. He stepped in front of Carlos and addressed the crowd. “Now stop. I get that you’re angry. I get that this is your money. But you don’t get to rip him from limb to limb.”
Carlos whined behind Kirk. “You have to protect me,” he said. “You have to.”
Kirk hated being in this position. But, in a way, the answer was Yes, he did. Because he couldn’t afford to have all these people do something that would ruin their lives.
Jimbo, the biggest of the lot, said, “We won’t touch him as long as we get our money.”
Carlos snapped. “Don’t touch that money. It’s mine.”
“I wonder about that,” Queenie said. “What are you doing? Money-laundering, drug-trafficking through the place? Or are you just stealing everybody’s wages?”
“Nothing like that,” Carlos said. “I’ve done really well gambling.”
She sneered. “No, you haven’t. The only gambling you’ve done is with our paychecks.” She studied him, then reached out a hand. “Place your hand on mine.”
He backed up.
She laughed. “I thought you said I was a fraud anyway. If I’m such a fake, put your hand on mine, and I’ll see where the hell that money came from.”
