Callie's Redemption (Callie's Secret Book 3)

by T. Jones

  Callie's Redemption

  Conclusion of Callie's Secrets

  Chapter One

  The tiny bird moved from branch to branch, flower to flower, poking its red bill deep into the sweet nectar. Its wings made a quick drumming noise as it moved through the air, followed by a tail half again as long as its body. The Doctor Bird, as it was known to the locals, scanned its surroundings for possible danger, perhaps another male challenging the nest, but all seemed as it should be on the Blue mountain. It sat still for a moment, peering left and right, fidgeting, shaking its brilliant plumage, still unsure, waiting. Then it heard the sound that had alerted it moments before, felt it rumble ever so slightly through the limb it was perched on. Like thunder, miles and miles away, only deeper, coming from the depths of the mountain below. The hummingbird flicked its tail once, then jumped into the air, returning to its mate, and the safety of the nest.

  ***

  Lucinda Mitchell pushed her glasses up, looking at the screen on her computer. She walked quickly over to the seismograph and studied the portion of the tape she could see. She was a grad student, familiar with the equipment, and confident that what she was seeing was cause for further examination, and worth bringing up to her supervisor. She watched the tape again for a moment, then sent an email, and sat back waiting for a response. It didn't take long, and confirmed what she had just seen. She printed a copy of what was on the tape, then walked to the small office, the only space in the building with a door, knocked briefly, and walked in. The balding man behind the desk looked up, frowning.

  "What is it Lucy? Another tsunami?"

  "No Professor, no more false alarms. I just wanted you to look at this, it might be something." The elderly man peered over his glasses at her, skepticism evident on his face. She was pleased that he seemed to be mildly interested as he looked at the computer printout. He handed the readout back to her.

  "Did you check with Miami?"

  "Yeah, they had it smaller, some p wave increase, nothing big. You don't think it looks like a thrust fault, maybe foreshock? I know that's considered a secure fault, but if it lets go, all hell's going to break loose, and it's damn close to Kingston."

  "You love the drama, don't you Lucinda?" The professor smiled at her. "Keep an eye on it Hon, just a little creep from the Gonave plate I'd say. Not every jump of the needle means something, but thanks for bringing it to my attention."

  Lucinda left the office, shutting the door a little too briskly and muttering. "Condescending prick calls me Hon again, and there's going to be real trouble."

  ***

  Callie Fisher checked her reflection in the mirror, satisfied with what she saw. Jenny liked what she saw, and that was the important thing. It was what mattered the most to Callie.

  They had been together six months to the day, from the morning when Jennifer had explained to her, that no, she wasn't falling for their friend Travis, and yes, she could truly love her best friend. Except for a brief scare, their lives together had been perfect in every way. But still, even though Jenny reassured her constantly, something was worrying Callie. Something still threatened their happiness. She scoffed at her own lingering insecurity as she heard the front door to the Loft open. She would never feel quite good enough for Jenny, that was all it was. She grabbed the flowers she had picked up earlier, and started down the steps.

  Jennifer Mconvil smiled down at the small bag of groceries perched on her lap. She had been able to find all of Callie's favorites and planned on a celebration. It had been six months to the day since they had become a couple and sealed the deal. She knew Callie still expected her to flee suddenly, as if she would one day realize she couldn't be in a relationship with a girl and pack her bags. The truth was anything, or rather, everything but that. She had never been happier in her life. It was like the world was gray and white, and Callie Fisher was painted in the most vibrant of colors. Jenny smiled at the thought, something good to put on the card she had picked up.

  The bus stopped, and several people got on. Jenny sat back, trying to be patient, several stops, then she had to transfer. The ingredients she needed for her special meal weren't readily available, she'd gone all the way into Saint Paul for some spices. Her girlfriend wouldn't tease her about her cooking, not after the feast she had planned.

  "Hey, bus buddy! What are you smiling about? Cooking up something special?" Jenny glanced up and recognized the young guy who she thought looked like Greg Johnson. He slid into the seat next to her. "Remember me? Derrick?"

  "Sure, how have you been? Is baseball over for the year?"

  "Wow, good memory. Actually, I'm going to watch a game this afternoon. Our team got beat out of the playoffs, but I want to see how the team that beat us does. It's a small tech college, good baseball team though. You like baseball, right?"

  "I like baseball." Jenny had never watched a complete game in her life, bored her to tears. She wondered why she had said that.

  "So, how's it going with your girlfriend?"

  "Great. It's been six months today."

  "That's a long time." He said soberly.

  "It is a long time." She agreed. It sounded torturous the way he said it.

  "Really long, it's too long to be tied down, don't you think? Life should be about new experiences, and relationships get so stagnant after a while."

  "But," She tried to think. "you think it's too long?" It seemed like an odd thing to say, and Jenny felt confused suddenly.

  "Yeah, it's really, really long to be with one person, Jenny. You're way too young to be stuck in a rut like that. You need to enjoy life, be free. I think you should come to the baseball game with me this afternoon, drink beer, laugh. It would really be fun."

  "Yeah? It does sound really fun." Jenny frowned, trying to think. It was all so confusing. Maybe she could cook after the game. How long were baseball games, anyway?

  "We can go to the game, then we'll go party with my friends. I'll introduce you to everybody. We'll have a great time, Jenny. I really am a nice guy. You think I'm nice, don't you?" He smiled, confident the psychic connection was doing its job.

  "Yes, you're really nice, and you do look like Greg. I miss Greg." Derrick took Jenny's free hand, stroking it softly.

  "You can pretend I'm Greg, Jenny, it will be like before, like making love with your old boyfriend."

  "But what about supper? I think I'm supposed to make supper, I think that was tonight." Nothing was making sense, Jenny couldn't remember what it was, but she had to do something important.

  "You can make supper for me later, okay? We have to get off at the next stop, to see the baseball game, remember?"

  "Okay." She looked at Derrick blankly. "I really like baseball, don't I?" The bus bumped to a stop and Derrick stood, holding onto Jenny's hand, leading her toward the door. She still held her small bag in her free hand, and a bottle of spice fell from it. She turned, staring vacantly down at it. A small Asian woman, sitting near the aisle, scooped it up and handed it to her, examining it. She smiled broadly.

  "Oh, you're making Kimchi? Your boyfriend, he's a lucky guy!" Jenny stared dully at her for a minute, as Derrick tugged at her hand.

  "Boyfriend? I don't have a boyfriend. I'm going home to cook for Callie. Callie!"

  It hit her then, she felt the weight that had settled onto her mind. She jerked her hand quickly away from Derrick Blackburn. She glared at him, leaning close for a moment. "I don't know what you did to me, or who the fuck you are, but get the hell away from me, or I'm going to scream bloody murder. I'm not going anywhere with you, not today or ever." She turned and walked quickly back to her seat. As the bus eased away from the curb, she saw him scowling
at her from the sidewalk, and raised a middle finger. She had a terrible headache, but this time she was sure she knew why.

  Derrick Blackburn stood watching the bus pull away, cursing under his breath. He couldn't understand what had happened. Girls had escaped his clutches before, but never after he had established the link. It was a term he used to describe binding his will to another person's, a link to control them. He used it often, most frequently to put a warm body in his bed, sometimes just to get his way. His mother had caught on, but even she, with all of her abilities, wasn't immune to his persuasion if he was careful. Wasn't, past tense, he reminded himself. Madeline Rice and the rest of the bitches that made up the Elders, they had seen to that. He was determined to make them pay.

  But what about Jennifer Mconvil? How had she broken the link? More importantly, if she could do it, could others? One minute he had been in her head, feeling the connection and helping her envision the sex they were going to have, then suddenly it was gone, and she was in complete control of her own mind again, pushing him out, permanently. He knew there wouldn't be another chance with her. But how could she be that strong? Or was it him? Was it possible, since the death of his mother, that his abilities were waning somehow? He sat down on the bench at the bus stop, frightened by the possibility. If his gift were to disappear, then all of his plans would be ruined and avenging his mother's death would be impossible.

  Killing Madeline Rice seemed fair, but doing so, without getting caught and paying for the crime, was unlikely. If the law didn't get him, certainly the Sisters would, somehow. Being rich, young, and gifted, wouldn't help him in the least if he were dead. He had no desire to be run over by a truck, which is what would happen if he killed the woman outright. He would just have to be very careful to do the most damage possible, and somehow keep himself from retribution. He didn't have their gift for prescience, but he had gotten very good at utilizing the abilities he did have. But the thought that his abilities might being slipping away worried him. He looked around at the small group waiting for the next bus. A pretty blond woman, ten years his senior, stood clutching a bag of groceries. He got up, giving her his warmest smile.

  "That looks heavy, can I hold that for you?"

  "No that's okay." She said stepping back a little. He locked eyes with her. "Well, yes, actually I could use some help, I guess."

  "Glad I can be of service." He smiled. "I'll bet you like baseball."

  ***

  Danielle Ogren had a good idea why she had been summoned. She found herself in the middle of things, and understood why her friend was concerned. But she was in a relationship of sorts, for the first time in a lot of years, and didn't plan to give that up easily. She'd been seeing Ozzy for a month. It wasn't the kind of relationship she had expected, but it was nice, having someone. Oswald Marsh had changed, a lot. He was still funny and charming, more so, now that he was off the drugs, but he insisted on taking things slow; glacially slow, it seemed to Danielle.

  Danielle wasn't sure about trying with a man, but from their first meeting, she had been attracted to Ozzy, and she had since seen the better side of him, the vulnerable, injured side. If she were to be with a man, it could be someone like him. But he insisted, until he was more confident with his recovery, getting serious was off the table. Serious to him meant having sex. Celibacy was his choice, and Danielle tried to respect it, but the cute girl at the coffeeshop that flirted with her mercilessly, was looking better every day. Oz insisted that she shouldn't consider it exclusive, that she was free to see other people, but she hadn't strayed. She wanted what Callie Fisher had with Jennifer, and maybe Oz was that.

  It had occurred to her that Ozzy could be playing them all, waiting for the chance to get back at his father, Callie, and her as well. But she trusted her Gift, she was sure she would sense that level of deceit. She would just have to see where it went.

  The pretty young legal aid finally waved her in, and she walked into the sparse office and took a seat. Madeline Rice smiled and motioned at a coffee pot in the corner of the room. "Would you like a cup, Danielle? Sorry I kept you waiting, I couldn't get off the damn phone."

  "No coffee, two, three cups in the morning is usually it for me."

  "Okay, well, might as well get to it, then. I understand you're seeing Ozzy Marsh?"

  "If you came around, maybe sat in on a meeting, you'd be caught up on all the gossip, Maddy. I'm dating him, or at least spending time with him. Honestly, it's not like any relationship I've ever had before."

  "How so?"

  "We're more like buddies, says he wants to take it really slow. Definitely not like the old Oz."

  "Any interaction with his father?"

  "No, I've been to the house a couple times for dinner. Gretchen is great, but Johnathan always has last minute commitments, conveniently. I don't think we're each other's favorite person."

  "Understandable. I have to testify against him soon, and it's going to be ugly. He might have beat the trading charge, but trying to bribe me was a crime on its own, he's not likely to get leniency because of that. He knows that you and I have mutual friends, probably that we are friends. I think he's been investigating me, at least someone has. I know I've been followed. I think maybe he's trying to come up with a way to discredit my testimony."

  "I can have a talk with whoever is tailing you. Think they're just snooping, or is it more dangerous?"

  "I think Marsh is smarter than that, if something happens to me, he'd be the first suspect. And the Sisters or Callie would have a sense of that. But I still have an uneasy feeling about all this. Maybe you could do a little investigating of your own. It's possible it isn't Marsh, maybe it's someone else, but it makes me a little nervous. Johnathan Marsh isn't the only rich prick I've pissed off. I don't have any clear evidence, so I can't ask for public security, and I'd feel foolish doing that anyway. I can't get anything either, psychically, I mean."

  "Seems odd, you're one of the best of us. Explains some of Callie's abilities."

  "So, she told you about everything?"

  "Jenny first, of course, then me. I don't think anyone else, it really isn't anyone's business."

  "Except that her father was very gifted as well, but the group really doesn't need to know that either. I'm not sure what that's done to her gene pool. It would be interesting to know how all this comes about, and how many there are like us out there, wouldn't it?" Danielle laughed.

  "Don't mention that to Callie, she's ready to start an expedition, travel around the world looking for more psychics like us. I always presumed that it was just women, but it appears not."

  "Definitely not just women."

  "Anyway, I'll start hanging around evenings, see if I can get a look at your stalker, maybe have a chat with him."

  "I don't know, might be better if he didn't know we were on to him."

  "Up to you, but sooner or later we need to know who he's working for. Hope it's not Marsh. Ozzy thinks he's getting his old man straightened out, hoping he won't go to jail, maybe turn over a new leaf. Seems unlikely, but that's what Callie said about Oz, and so far, he's keeping his nose clean."

  "I like to think everyone is redeemable." Madeline glanced at her office phone, tapping a button. "What's up Jackie, we're about done here."

  "That reporter is here again, says she has to see you, life and death."

  "Alright," Madeline laughed. "Tell her I give up, I'll see her. Danielle's just leaving."

  Danielle could have spent the rest of her life in the Twin Cities, and never bumped into her, but Fate had different plans. When the office door opened, the reporter, waiting for her interview, bounced up from the chair she had taken next to the door. She turned and nearly collided with the tall dark-haired woman. They both stepped back, momentarily speechless.

  Anna Hendricks was as beautiful as the day Danielle had last seen her, perhaps more so. She was even more striking than the woman Danielle watched five nights a week, doing financial segments, and filling in for the weath
erman occasionally. The small screen just didn't do her justice. They stood awkwardly, staring at each other. Danielle heard Madeline clear her throat, conspicuously, and she pulled the door shut behind her, leaning against it. She stepped closer to Anna, glanced at the legal aid, who was eyeing her, then looked down into Anna's eyes.

  "How are you? I watch you, on the news, every night."

  "Yeah? I'm doing just fine, I guess. How about you? Still trying to save the world, one drunk at a time?" She hesitated. "Sorry, that was snarky."

  "I'm sorry I never got a chance to explain all that to you, but your father, and everything."

  "Yeah, he's still trying to run my life. I should go in, I've been after this interview forever."

  "Maddy's a good friend, she'll understand. Is there any chance we could talk more, sometime?"

  "Not sure what there is to say Dani, it's been so many years. I really have to go, I'm being rude."

  "Yeah, sorry. But Anna, do you still have my number? It would be great if you called, just to catch up, unless that would be weird, or if your partner wouldn't understand." Anna frowned at her, trying to sidestep around her.

  "I have your number, but I'm not sure there's any point. I really have to go in now."

  "Alright, I'd just like to talk, but I get it, bye Anna."

  Danielle stood staring at the door, closed with a finality that seemed unnecessary. The pain slammed into her, as if time meant nothing, as if that door hadn't shut ten years ago. It might as well have been yesterday. She bit her lip and tried to smile at the girl behind the desk as she lunged for the door and rushed out of the office. She had built it up in her head, a chance meeting, closure perhaps; something better, perhaps. But it appeared Anna had moved on, all that was left was anger, or worse, indifference. It had been ten years, what did she expect? She walked to her car and unlocked it, glancing quickly at the service truck parked across the street.

  The man sitting in the van had a scruffy gray beard, wore a painter's cap and a pair of sunglasses. He held a newspaper, but his head was up, too high to be reading. Danielle knew he was checking her out. Madeline's stalker no doubt. She toyed with the idea of beating a confession out of him, then smiled at herself. That wouldn't fix her love life.