by T. Jones
Over the years, the group had allowed deaths to occur before. They were people whose time was up, who Fate had chosen to die. But never one of their own, no matter how vindictive she had become. And now it was her son who sought vengeance, because he knew his mother's death could have been prevented. It was why Madeline liked the law, with all its nuances. The law established guidelines of right and wrong, moral and immoral. Someday perhaps there would be laws to control the actions of people who could see the future, help the Bess Fishers of the world make the right choices. Madeline was very glad it hadn't been her choice to make. But then Bess was always the best of them.
She opened the second notebook, and ran her fingers across the photographs, smiling softly. Thank God for digital cameras, at least Fatty Carson hadn't taken the originals. Each time she touched the pictures of Callie Fisher, she had a sense of what she had missed. When she held the old photograph of a blond haired three year old with her father's eyes, she could hear the laughter and feel the joy she had missed, having made that decision all those years ago. Each picture was imbued with a sense of the happiness that was transpiring at the moment it was taken. She was never sure if it was inspired by her imagination, or if Bess Fisher, always the loving friend, had somehow sent the sensations along, using her incredible psychic abilities. Madeline smiled, yeah, Bess was always the best of them.
The pictures of her and Jon held their own magic, no help from Bess needed there. She could remember every moment of their time together. It had seemed logical enough, when she was nineteen and filled with optimism and independence, to climb on the plane and just cherish the memory. But logic had little to do with how she felt, and as the weeks passed she realized what a huge mistake she had made, how deeply she felt for the blue eyed young man. But by the time she swallowed her pride and tried to find him, it was too late. She knew the psychic connection they shared would only seem like a memory to him. And then she was pregnant. She was ready to quit school and raise her baby, when Bess had suggested the adoption. Her love for her friends and her unborn baby had made the unthinkable less painful.
Over the years Bess had kept her up to date on the girl's progress with notes and pictures. Then one day Madeline had walked into the Fisher's hardware store to see for herself. What she saw was that Bob and Bess had done a wonderful job. She also saw Jon's eyes. Every time she saw Callie now, she saw those wonderful blue eyes. She had decided a long time ago that she would wait for those eyes to come back to her. And that time was coming, she could feel it. She sighed, dropped the pictures back into their drawer, and turned off the light. Something else was coming, something not as pleasant, she was sure of that as well.
***
Fatty had been checking on the van that kept showing up outside the loft. He'd driven by in the middle of the night and it was never there, but twice in the morning, when he joined Jennifer and the girls for coffee, it was back, then gone again by the time he left. Whoever it was knew nothing about surveillance. They always parked too close, and Fatty could see someone watching through the windshield, sitting in plain sight. At least they had sense enough to wear dark glasses and a hat, so they couldn't be identified. He had even arrived early, parking down the street, and watched the van pull into the same spot. No one got out, they just sat there for an hour or so, then drove away.
Finally, after talking to Callie about it, he decided to take action. He arrived early and moved Callie's car into a strategic spot, then drove down a side street and watched the road. Like clockwork, the van appeared. Callie's car blocked the van's usual location, but the spot directly in front of her car was open. As Fatty hoped, the van pulled into the open spot, then backed up to avoid blocking the fire hydrant that was a few feet away. Rookie mistake, Fatty thought. The van was only a foot from Callie's Camry, and Fatty drove past, then made a quick u turn so that he was facing the other van, bumper to bumper, blocking it in.
There was only one person in the vehicle, and he spun and jumped into the back before Fatty could get a close look at him. Fatty sat in his van waiting, then blew his horn, repeatedly. Nothing. Finally, totally unsure of what he was getting into, he slipped his small handgun into his jacket pocket and climbed out of his van. He walked cautiously up to the side of the vehicle, aware that anyone in the back would be able to see him in the side mirror. The tinted windows made it too dark inside the van for Fatty to tell what the occupant was doing, so he pushed the mirror down with one hand, knocking on the side window with the other.
"Hey, whoever you are, what are you doing spying on these girls? There are stalking laws, you know. Do you want me to call the cops?" No answer. "I don't want to call them, but you leave me no choice. You can't get out of here, so either you talk to them, or talk to me."
This time he heard some activity, as if someone was moving around in the van. He stepped away from the door, his hand resting on the gun in his pocket. The side window of the van came down about half way. Fatty pulled the gun out of his pocket and stepped forward, a few feet from the window, with the .38 leveled. Two hands suddenly poked out from the opening, and he heard a small voice. "Jesus Christ, asshole, don't shoot!"
"We'll see who's the asshole, you come out of there, right now." The door popped open, and the driver stepped out onto the pavement, all five feet three inches of him. If he hadn't been driving, Fatty would have presumed he was fourteen years old, and he still wasn't real sure. The boy had fiery red hair, glasses, the start of a pathetic beard, and the worst case of acne Fatty had ever seen. He breathed a sigh of relief and slid the gun back into his pocket. The kid glared at him.
"You could accidentally shoot somebody with that, you know."
"If I shot you, it wouldn't be by accident, kid. What in the hell are you doing here."
"A guy can't park on the street and mind his own business? Maybe I'm just hiding out, so I don't have to go to school."
"You always leave just about the time school starts, dipstick. And you look like a kid that never missed a day in his life."
"Yeah," The redhead scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe I'll have a real job, when I get out of college, not whatever it is you do."
"Alright, listen. You want to tell me what you're doing here, or do I have to call the cops."
"Callie Fisher lives here, right? She was in my Chemistry class."
"How old are you? No way you're old enough to be in college."
"I'm seventeen, almost. And I am so in college! I mean, yes, I'm in college, I'm gifted."
"And you have the hots for an older woman, huh? I get it kid, she is crazy beautiful, but I happen to know she doesn't like guys your age, guys any age, so move on. Stalking is a crime, and I will call the cops if I see you here again." The boy rolled his eyes.
"She's very pretty, but I'm not interested in her that way. Like I said, I'm gifted. And I could tell that she is too." Fatty played dumb.
"Yeah, you said that before, if you're sixteen and in college, you're gifted. Congratulations."
"No, I mean I'm gifted, gifted. I can feel it, she is too. I'm parked here just to be close to her. Not in a stalker kind of way. It's like she has some sort of energy, or something. Fuck, I don't know, this all just started happening. Can I talk to her?" Fatty pulled out his phone, but when he glanced in the direction of the loft, Callie stood in the doorway, waving for them to come in.
His name was Jeffery Hall and Callie remembered him from school. He said he had always wondered why he felt different, but when he had been in class with Callie he could feel that there was something different about her as well. Jenny gave him a soda, then started taking notes. This was a first. A young male psychic, who unlike Derrick, seemed to share the same characteristics as the Sisters. He talked about sometimes having visions of future events, nothing clear, just impressions of things that seemed to come true. And he could tell somehow that Callie had those abilities as well.
It became obvious to Fatty that the kid was no threat to anyone, and that Callie and
Jennifer were very excited by the implications of his visit. He was not. He noticed that Danielle's door was open, and took his coffee with him, knocking softly.
"Come in Mr. Carson. I hear that you managed to detain our mysterious stalker. Close the door, would you? They're noisy out there."
"Call me Fatty, okay? It's like they're excited because he's a guy. Not that many psychic guys, I take it."
"My theory is that guys are just more secretive about it. We're finding more and more psychics around the world. I met one in Jamaica, we know they're in Brazil, seems like a worldwide phenomenon." Fatty sipped his coffee
"Might be a good thing, might not. Want me to get you a cup?"
"No, thank you. No caffeine until I'm able to exercise. I'd be all jittery if I drank it lying in bed."
"What you did in Jamaica was amazing."
"We didn't do as much as I hoped, but getting Felicity to safety was worth the trip, even if I did get shot, and it cost me my gift."
"Deeann said something about that."
"Honestly, I never was like her or the other Elders. I would have occasional flashes of prescience, and I could usually tell when someone was going to throw a right hook, but that was about it. Still, I don't know if I qualify to be a part of the Sisters anymore."
"That's ridiculous." Fatty said plainly. "Sorry, I mean look what you did. You were the only one with the skills to even try to help down there. Even if your psychic mojo is gone, you can do things none of the others can do. Besides, Deeann says she wants us to team up, take on the bad guys. I need a partner who can twist arms once in a while, I'm not built for that sort of thing." Danielle laughed loudly, stopping only to rub her sore chest.
"You shouldn't make me laugh that hard, it hurts. But thanks. I'm sure once I get on my feet I'll be ready to help you with the bad guys."
"That your girlfriend, the newscaster lady that ran me over on the way out of here?"
"That's debatable right now. We were in love once, but it isn't the same. You can't take ten years off and expect it to be like it was. I think we both are just holding on to the past."
"Loves a funny thing, hard to figure out what makes two people click. But look at me, I figured that was all behind me, and a rich lady in a Mercedes wanted to buy me a drink."
"Deeann is a great girl, Fatty. Treat her nice."
"No worries there. I hope things work out for you, however you want them to. I'd better move my van so junior can go to school. You take care." He bent down quickly and kissed her forehead, leaving her smiling and blushing as he walked out the door.
"What a sweet guy." She chuckled.
***
"The end of the month? Are you sure Doc? You said when he came in it would be three months minimum. You think he's ready to come home?"
"Absolutely," Dr. Swenson nodded smiling. Derrick has made wonderful progress."
"So he's not a threat to anyone? Not to the Rice woman, or me or my other son?"
"The drugs have worked really well, he has made wonderful progress."
"Yeah, you said that. Can I see him, I need to go over some things with him."
"Yes of course. He'll be released on the last day of the month. Wonderful progress!"
Frank Blackburn entered the secure wing of the hospital. Dr. Swenson acted like he had been sampling his own medications, something was off there. He'd been hoping Derrick would stay locked up for another couple of months. According to the court documents he would be responsible for his son's whereabouts for the next five months, until the end of his six month sentence, including probation. That was going to screw up his golf trip to Pebble with the guys. Hopefully Derrick had it together well enough to be on his own. His brother would be at home, but the younger boy usually went along with whatever Derrick said. Typical younger brother thing. He rapped quickly on Derrick's open door, then walked in. Derrick was sitting at the desk, reading.
"So, what do you think, ready to come home in a couple days, buddy?" He looked good.
"Yeah, sounds great Dad. Getting pretty sick of this place."
"No more visions? You understand now that your Mom just had an accident, right?"
"Yeah, I got really confused there for a while, you know? I mean Mom and I were so close."
"I'm sorry that happened to her son, but maybe it was just her time. We'll be okay, we can get through it together. We can spend a lot more time together after I get back from Pebble. Then we can hang out. I'll be sure you and Darrin have plenty of cash, and I'll reactivate your card."
"Sure, we'll hang out when you get back, like you said. Maybe I'll go up to the lake, get away and think. It's peaceful up there, and Mom always liked it." He surprised Frank when he suddenly wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly.
"We'll get through this Derrick, soon as I get back from my golf trip."
"Alright Callie, you know as much about this store as I do, and Diane probably knows more than both of us put together. She has keys, but please don't over sleep, she'll need help in the mornings. And the coffee guys will be in whether I'm here or not. You can hang out with your old buddy, Richie Carlson."
"Funny Dad, I thought that loser actually had a job now."
"Be nice, Princess. He has a job, but it's shift work, so he still comes in from time to time."
"Watch out for him, Jenny, he's the guy I told you about."
They had driven up Friday morning. Bob and Bess Fisher were flying out of the Cities on Saturday morning, bound for Seattle to get on a cruise ship that would take them north to Alaska for ten days. Bob was going over the details of the operations of the hardware store. Callie knew it all by heart, but Jenny was listening intently.
"Give Jenny the ten-cent tour, Dad, I know all this stuff. I have to go back to town for a few days anyway, so she'll be here with Diane. We'll be fine, you just worry about relaxing and getting Mom to unwind. I'm going to run say Hi to her, then I'll be back, okay Jen?" The redhead waved and Callie slipped out the back door.
Her mother sat at the kitchen table, buried in her newspapers. Callie sat down across from her, taking note of how tired and drawn she looked.
"Mom, are you ready for your vacation?"
"Everything is packed Callie, just waiting on your father. I just wanted to check on something." Callie reached out and gently pulled the paper from her hands.
"The world will continue to spin without you worrying about everything. Stop stressing, and go on a real vacation. Forget the Sisters, and me, and just go have fun with your husband, please!"
"I'm still worried about Derrick, Callie. He blames Madeline, and that's my responsibility."
"He's locked up Mom, let it go. Madeline and I can handle whatever comes up. I'm starting to realize that maybe you never really left the group, not really anyway, not in your head. Go on vacation!" She said it as forcefully as she dared, and her mother laughed.
"Alright, I give up. You girls can handle it, I know. I just like to feel useful, needed."
"You're needed by your husband for the next ten days, concentrate on him and forget us, okay?"
Saturday morning Callie and Jennifer were at the hardware store fifteen minutes early. Before Diane arrived, they had the lights on and the outdoor merchandise pushed out onto the sidewalk. Callie made coffee and put out the fresh pastries for the locals. She smiled, wondering what her father had doled out over the years in coffee and free food. She had just finished unwrapping the last of the pastries when the back door opened, and the first of the coffee clutch came in. He cleared his throat a little, and Callie glanced at him. Richie Carlson, a thinner, better groomed version. She managed a smile.
"Morning Richie. You been on a diet? You're looking pretty svelte."
"Hi Callie. I lost the belly once I stopped going to Jake's every morning. Did wonders for things at home too. My wife actually talks to me now."
"That would be a good thing, I'm guessing."
"I came in early because I knew you'd be here."
"Oh
?" Callie asked cautiously.
"I just wanted to apologize again for being such an ass. After we had our little disagreement, it made me take a look at things. I kind of needed a wake-up call, and boy, did you give it to me."
"I'm glad things are better for you Richie, really. I was pretty upset with you for a long time, but let's just put that behind us." The back door opened and another local came in, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Callie greeted him and went back to the front of the store, feeling pretty good about life.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ozzy Marsh looked across his desk at Fatty Carson. It wasn't really privileged information the man sought, but he was reluctant to share anything about a client, or his father's business.
"What is your connection to all this Mr. Carson? Unless you're the police and have a warrant, I can't help you."
"Confidentiality, I get that. In a way this is more personal. I understand you used to date Danielle Ogren?"
"Yes, nothing confidential about that."
"She's kind of my partner, now."
"Sure, she is." Ozzy smiled. "Did she ditch me for you, is that what you're saying?"
"No, of course not. Did you hear about what happened in Jamaica?"
"No, we parted on good terms, but it's not like we talk a lot."
"She went down there to help with the earthquake, tried to warn them actually, and got shot, twice."
"Jesus," Ozzy paled. "Is she going to be alright? I care a lot about her, Mr. Carson! What happened, is she in the hospital?"
"Calm down, she's better, she's healing up, but she's going to need a few weeks rest before she's out kicking ass again."
