by T. Jones
But Fate had offered a solution, an accident on a dark and lonely road. Sometimes Fate had to have its way, right? She could have prevented it, or let Callie, Madeline, or some of the Sisters see it, and make sure it didn't happen. But the line between right and wrong wasn't always straight, more often convoluted. Had she allowed Teresa's death, simply and selfishly, because she didn't want her to hurt her daughter by talking to Jenny? Teresa knew about the adoption, and she would have made that seem sinister somehow. Had she only done it to prevent the reckoning she had dreaded all her life, the reckoning that, ironically, only made the relationship with her daughter stronger? Protecting the Sisters had been part of it as well, all of her motives weren't selfish. Did God show her that accident as some sort of test? She dismissed that, life might test her, but God wasn't petty. But he might judge her ultimately, because she knew another test was coming. She wasn't done with the Blackburns, there was another psychic in that family. She prayed she wouldn't have to kill him too.
"Hey Princess, stopped by to see the old man, huh?" Callie hugged her father.
"You are not old. But take your Lipitor, I haven't seen anything bad in your future, but Doc Nelson told me to remind you."
"He's everywhere, that guy."
"He means well, so listen to him. Jenny and I were talking, we could watch the store this summer sometime, if you and Mom want to get away. I don't know about you, but she seems stressed as shit."
"Language! But yeah, she is all wound up. I thought now that everything was out in the open, the adoption and stuff, she'd relax, but it doesn't seem that way. I get the idea that it's about the group again. She worries about you, making the decisions you're making. Unintended consequences and things. It's hard for me to understand, I'm just glad I can't see anybody's future, it would be too much for a hardware salesman to deal with."
"We've split up the responsibilities. Nobody else is going to end up like Teresa, including me."
"Never happen anyway, Princess. You're too good a person."
"I keep trying to be, but I have a lot to make up for. Fortunately, I have Jenny to keep me on the straight and narrow."
"Your friend Holly was in here, came in to offer her congratulations."
"Crap, she has a big mouth. I wanted to tell you that. It's not official, and I'm not in a hurry. Jenny would do it tomorrow, but I don't see that happening. Of course, if she insists, I'll have to give in."
"As well you should, Jenny is something special. Are you heading over to see your Mother? You could soften her up about the vacation idea. Can't imagine why she wouldn't like to drive out west for a week or two. We've talked about it for years, maybe it's time."
Callie slid into the kitchen chair, took a sip of her coffee, then looked over at her mother.
"You told me that day last winter that I looked like hell, it's payback time."
"I'd tell you to respect your elders, but right now, that wouldn't ring true."
"Sorry, kidding. But it's obvious that something is bothering you, what's up?"
"Maybe you're not the psychic I think you are."
"Is it about Teresa? I don't need to pick your brain to figure out that it had to be you or Madeline, I thought maybe it was both of you. Not an easy thing, stealing my memory of that dream. I'd reached the conclusion it must not have been a premonition. I guess I was wrong about that."
"Maddy had nothing to do with it Callie, and I kept it from her as well." Callie studied her mother.
"Scary, the things you can do. It makes me wish more than ever that you were part of the group. There are so many questions I want to ask you, things I suspect you know, but probably wouldn't tell me."
"Teresa wasn't the first, Callie. It's why I left the group. Years ago, before you were born, a girl, kind of a friend of mine, was murdered, brutally. I made sure the man that did it got what he deserved, justice according to Beth Fisher." She shuddered a little, then drew a deep breath. "I've wanted to tell you that for a long time. Like I said, God will judge me."
"Everybody does things they regret, Mom. If it's psychic confession time, I have skeletons too. You probably had a sense of it, but I was responsible for Greg Johnson's death. It wasn't intentional, it was one of those unintended consequences you always talk about, but it was absolutely my fault. I don't worry about God judging me, but I judge myself every day. At the time, what I did seemed justifiable, but I ended up hurting the one person I love the most. She forgave me, because that's just Jenny. But Madeline told me once that I should forgive myself too, but I don't think I can. I just have to learn from it, go on, do better. I don't know if Greg or Teresa deserved what happened to them, but if there is a God, why would he let that happen, if it wasn't supposed to?"
"If you're trying to cheer me up, Callie, you're really shitty at it." The girl laughed.
"Language Mom, what would Dad say? But this Gift we have, it's so difficult to know what's right sometimes. I know it doesn't help much, but I get how hard a choice you made. But you didn't kill Teresa, not really, being mean and vindictive was what put her on that rode, that's what killed her."
"She has a son, and he has the Gift."
"You're full of surprises today! But I found out about Derrick, he tried to seduce Jenny, twice actually. He got in her head and almost had her following him off a bus, she broke the connection somehow."
"That girl is amazing. Once he had her, I'm surprised she could get away from him."
"Are there more? Men like him, here or in the Cities?"
"I know of a few, random, and they're not organized. Any more dreams about Jon?"
"I may have a brother, half-brother. I keep seeing us playing on a beach, he's younger."
"Your father and I tried for another child, but it never happened. You were enough." Callie laughed loudly.
"I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment. Don't worry Mom, Jenny is praying for us both, and she always gets her way."
Chapter Four
Jonathan Marsh was worried. The team he had hired from Chicago hadn't offered any good news about his case. Trying to bribe the attorney from the Ethics board had been a mistake. The whole thing was on tape, but he'd probably be able to get that thrown out as inadmissible. That left Madeline Rice herself, her testimony would be damning, and discrediting her might not matter, but at least it would give him a better shot. If he took a deal, white collar crime, he might get five years, probably serve two. But if he could make the Rice woman look crazy, maybe he'd go to trial and take his chances.
The Blackburn kid wasn’t wrapped too tight, but he kept calling, and Jonathan had finally agreed to a meeting. The elder Marsh was running out of options, and the timing was bad. After years of banging heads with his son, it finally seemed like they were making progress. He was still mystified that Ozzy wanted to spend time with Danielle, and he knew sooner or later he would have to show up for a meal with her. Better later than sooner, but he knew Gretchen was bound to pin him down. He wasn't sure why the idea worried him.
Meeting the Blackburn kid might be a mistake. It was possible he'd be wearing a wire, and all things considered, there was probable cause. But no self-respecting informant would dream up such an outlandish tale as the one Derrick Blackburn had presented at their first meeting. Anybody that crazy had to be legit, and at this point he had little to lose. He'd called Derrick, set up the meeting, then called fifteen minutes prior and moved it to a different location. He picked a noisy sports bar, and sat at a small table near the front, watching the clientele come in. Couples mostly, a few Jocks, but no undercover cops as far as he could tell, not that he thought he could. He knew he was being paranoid, but the possibility of spending time in jail, was looming, and making him cautious. When Derrick walked in, he relaxed a little. It was hot out, and all the boy was wearing was a torn-up muscle shirt, hardly any place to hide a wire. He raised a hand, then motioned for Derrick Blackburn to sit.
"Mr. Marsh, glad you called. I got the impression you weren't comfortab
le talking at your office, and I hope I didn't scare you off." He did a quick turn. "No wires, if that's what worries you. I realized, when you switched venues that you might think I was trying to entrap you or something. Trust me, nothing could be further from the truth. I think we want the same things."
"What is it you want kid? Beer?" The waitress had walked up to the table. She looked at Derrick, then at Jonathan who scowled. "He's old enough, just get us two beers, cold ones."
"Thanks. Like I said, I think I want what you want. I want to make Madeline Rice's life just as miserable as possible. If I had my way, she'd disappear, but that wouldn't be a good idea."
"Not that I was ever entertaining such a thing, but why would you say that, kid?"
"I know you don't believe the whole Sisters' thing, but if I got rid of Madeline, permanently, shall we say, I'd be a dead man. I'm too young to have those bitches after me. Sooner or later a piano would fall on me or some other horrible shit." Marsh smiled a little too broadly.
"Sorry kid, I'm trying to take this seriously, but really?"
"They as much as killed my mother, Mr. Marsh, and I don't want to be next. I'm perfectly serious, they would kill me, I'm sure of it. I think my mother had people killed, but I can't prove it. I know she sent Danielle to hurt people, more than once."
"I've seen what that woman can do, so I'm not totally unconvinced. But what then? And don't ever think I'm suggesting you kill her, but what do you have in mind?"
"I want to make her miserable, discredit her as a lawyer maybe, expose her as a psychic, or at least the idea that she believes she is."
"Odds are that would end her job at the State, I'll give you that."
"And if everyone thought she was a looney psychic, her testimony wouldn't be worth squat, right?"
"Alright, now I'm interested. But if you wreck her life, what's to keep these girls from working their psychic shit on you, and killing you."
"I have to trust my gift, I don't think they would kill me, not as long as I don't physically harm her. But I can't just let it go, I want to make them pay somehow."
"Your gift? So, you’re a fucking psychic now too?" Jonathan laughed.
"Look at me Mr. Marsh, really closely." In spite of himself, Jonathan Marsh did as he was told. He felt it, like the night he had turned the tape over to Danielle, the creeping drowsiness. He slammed his hand on the table, startling Derrick and the people at the next table. He leaned forward, talking quietly.
"You try that shit on me again kid, these Sisters will be the least of your worries. You'll never see the fucking truck that runs you over, that clear?"
"Perfectly, sorry." Derrick mumbled. "It was just a little demonstration. This psychic shit, as you call it, is real Mr. Marsh. I want to make them sorry for what they did to my mother, and you want to make Madeline's testimony go away, we need to help each other."
"I hate to say it Derrick, but I'm beginning to believe your cockamamy story. So, what the hell are we going to do about it?"
***
Danielle Ogren looked over at Oswald Marsh. She had dressed as he asked, trying to look the part of his girlfriend, especially feminine, were his words. It galled her that he would even ask her that, and she let her annoyance show.
"Danielle, you know I always think you look beautiful, but my Dad promised he'd show up tonight. If you look extra girly, maybe he'll get over the idea that you’re a hired assassin, or a spy, or whatever it is he thinks about you."
"The only person who has to worry about that right now is you, for suggesting that I wear this damn dress. But I'm willing to act the part. If things are going to work between us, your Dad and I have to make peace. I haven't seen him since the night everything happened, it's going to be very weird."
"I'm trying to have a normal life Dani, and having a decent relationship with my father is part of that. My Mom will make sure he behaves. Christ, he owes you his life, probably. You'd think he'd be nice to you." Danielle didn't respond, she was thinking of a sunny morning, years ago, watching a pretty young girl, trying to hit golf balls from a sand trap. Jonathan Marsh suddenly seemed horribly unimportant. She was jarred back to reality when Ozzy turned the car off.
Gretchen Marsh greeted them, all smiles and pleasantries. "Jonathan, our guests are here." Danielle smiled at Gretchen, giving her a quick embrace, then stepped back as Jonathan Marsh entered the room. He acted remarkably casual, grasping her hand and shaking it.
"Danielle! It's really good to see you again. Oz tells me you two are getting reacquainted, taking it slow. We're all kind of starting over, seems like."
"I hope we can do that too, Jonathan. We had a couple tough moments, but let's put that behind us, alright?"
"How's the shoulder. I heard it got infected. I inquired about you, after all, you saved my life that night. Thank you for that." Danielle smiled weakly and nodded, thinking of the threats he had made immediately after she had thrown that poker.
"Please, let's put that unpleasantness behind us and have a nice supper." Gretchen Marsh offered. Danielle did her best, but things unraveled right after supper. Despite Gretchen's best efforts, the talk turned to work, and Madeline Rice.
"I'm telling you, that lawyer from the State has it all wrong, or she's gone off the deep end. They've had it out for us for years."
"In fairness Dad, the trading thing looks bad."
"That was just good business Oz. That damn lawyer set me up. What's her name, Rice, right?"
"Madeline Rice is a highly respected Ethics attorney, Dad. I'm not taking her side, but she is good at what she does."
"Yeah, so I'm told. You know her, don't you Danielle? How'd you ever get involved with that bird?" Danielle took a breath, swallowed a little pride for Ozzy's sake.
"She's a friend of a friend. I've met her, she seems very nice to me."
"Friend of a friend huh? Friend of mine saw you coming out of her office the other day."
"Was that a friend or an employee, Mr. Marsh? Spying on a States attorney's office might land you in even more trouble than you're already in." Gretchen Marsh saw things going to hell, but it was too late.
"Jonathan, I asked you to refrain from talking about the case, and look where we are. What's going on with you three. I'm not stupid, and I'm tired of being kept in the dark."
"Gretchen, it's complicated. But one thing I know, Danielle isn't everything she pretends to be. I'm not going to sit back while she brainwashes Ozzy, or whatever you call this psychic crap."
"Sorry Mrs. Marsh, but I think it would be best if Ozzy took me home now. The dinner was wonderful as usual, but I don't think your husband and I can get past this."
"Great evening Dad, thanks a lot." Ozzy Marsh stood quickly, glaring at his father, then turned and followed Danielle toward the door.
"You'll thank me someday, son. She's some kind of a witch or something!" Jonathan Marsh called after them. Ozzy shook his head as they walked to the car in silence, then held the door as Danielle climbed into the car. He drove in silence for a few moments, then tried to joke.
"That went well. The old man must have had a whole bottle of Scotch before we got there. I'll talk to him, get him straightened out. I'm sure he'll apologize to you, once my mother gets through with him."
"I don't think so Oz. I think it's time we face the facts, too much has happened."
"What are you saying, Danielle? I thought we were going to give this a real try."
"There's something about you that I find so attractive Oz, honestly, and I'm not usually into guys. Surprise, I know. But your Dad, the thing with Callie, and now Madeline. There are too many obstacles for it to work out. You said it yourself, you have to stay off the drugs, that's your first priority, right? You don't need a relationship like this one, things are just going to keep getting tougher."
"All that's true. But, I fell in love with you Danielle, before everything else happened."
"I fell too Ozzy, much as I could, anyway. But I think we're just holding on now, hones
tly, it just isn't there anymore. You feel that, don't you?"
"Yeah, I guess. I hate that the old man will think he got his way."
"I know he's your Dad Oz, but I've seen him at his worst. You're better than that, don't let him drag you down to his level." Oz pulled up in front of the loft, put the car in park, and smiled at Danielle.
"This will make Callie Fisher very happy too."
"She was actually starting to accept the idea, second chances, and all that. She just wants me to be happy."
"Me too, you know that, right?"
"I'll see you, maybe I'll stop by one of your rally's, always like seeing Carl." Ozzy chuckled.
"Don't think he feels the same. Goodbye Danielle." Danielle leaned across, held Ozzy briefly, then climbed out of the car. She turned and walked into the loft without looking back.
Callie found her on the couch, curled around a bowl of ice cream, watching the ten o'clock weather, over and over.
Chapter Five
Inspector Lamar Henry flipped through the file he was looking at, then shoved it away angrily. The drug problems were getting worse. Dealing with a foolish tourist now and then was bad enough, but usually that was just a small amount of Gonja, or maybe an overzealous constable. But, with the Festival season coming, the local drug traffic was building again. He loved his home, but corruption was rampant in Kingston. He knew some of his own constabulary were guilty, taking bribes, rather than a bullet from one of the well-financed drug lords that operated in the area. The JCF, slightly better, but no less ruthless than the thugs that inhabited his jurisdiction, resorted to extreme measures occasionally.
He had been with the assault team when they entered Tivoli Gardens, ostensibly to arrest Dudus Coke, for extradition to the US. It had been a vicious assault, a chance to assert their authority, with a lot of collateral damage to civilians, many of whom he was sure were innocent. He considered it a black mark on his career, and on the force, itself. It wasn't clear how many non-combatants were killed that day. But after seeing that bloodbath, he had realized that going forward, the Constabulary had to behave better than the criminals if they expected the help and respect of the citizens they were sworn to protect. He did his best, but crushing poverty and the never ending demand for illegal drugs from the north, made his life difficult.
