Dead Wrong (A Cree Blue Psychic Eye Mystery Book 1)

by Kate Allenton

  “Really, it’s okay. I’ll call a friend to pick me up.”

  He held my gaze, his unrelenting. “They’re going to want to question you about why we were here.”

  “Right,” I said, climbing up into the ambulance. “I’m going with him.”

  “I knew you were smart the first day we met, he said, leaning back onto the gurney.

  “You thought I was a nut case.” I grinned.

  “That too.” His eyes slid closed, and he reached for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Blue, you did good.”

  “I had a little help.”

  Chapter 5

  I looked ridiculous as I paced outside the ER where mothers cradled their feverish children in their arms and sneezing was becoming an art form. It was just a matter of time before the cops showed up demanding answers that would have me wrapped in a white coat that fastened in the back. I pulled out my phone, my fingers firing across the keyboard as I texted Charlotte.

  I need you to come get me. Security at the hospital is eyeing me like I escaped the psych ward.

  Hospital? Are you with the badge? Are you okay?

  I plopped down in the chair, my fingers hovering over the keyboard as I tried to figure out the words I wanted to use. The badge is getting X-rays, and Faraday is now homeless.

  Oh, my God.

  I need a change of clothes too. Grammy’s dress has two bullet holes.

  OH. MY. GOD.

  I dialed her number, and she picked up on the first ring. “Tell me everything.”

  “Listen,” I said, glancing around the area, “I’ll explain everything later, but right now… I need you to come pick me up before the investigating cops show up.”

  “Do I need to bring your passport?” I glanced at my phone, momentarily shocked.

  “Ms. Blue.” The nurse behind the desk called my name, and I swung to face her.

  “Detective Spencer is requesting you.”

  “Text me when you’re outside the ER,” I whispered and ended the call, heading to the door where the nurse was pointing. I stepped inside and didn’t miss the way the nurse’s snooty gaze traveled over my dress.

  “It’s laundry day.” I shrugged.

  Mason was sitting on the bed. The cuts on his face had tiny bandages over them. He wasn’t wearing the cheesy hospital gowns that flashed everyone’s rear. Shame. I bet his buns were tight just like the rest of his body. Mason's shirtless chest was wrapped up tight. He looked like Humpty Dumpty being put back together again, only this Humpty no one would screw with. He was built with muscles and tattoos as fierce as the scowl on his face.

  “You look mad. Did they probe you in the wrong place?” I asked, sitting down on the bed next to him. “Did you like it?”

  Mason chuckled. “You’re weird.”

  It was true. “I get told that a lot. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “I’m glad you are too. Faraday is already going to kill me for taking you there.”

  I sighed. He was right. Faraday was like my father. He’d stepped right into the role when mine had died. “What’s the prognosis?”

  “Your people haven’t told you yet?”

  I peeked behind the veil and spoke the words as they flashed in my mind. “Fractured rib, concussion, and cuts.” I nudged his arm. “It’s a trifecta. Is this a typical day at the office because, you know, I debated a career choice of becoming a cop and then decided against it because of the stupid itchy uniforms. I’m beginning to believe I made a wise decision.”

  He pulled out the sandwich baggie from his pocket. “Today was better than a typical day at the office. With this little baby, we’re one step closer to finding the thugs that attacked Faraday.”

  “Are they releasing you? Can you blow this joint? No pun intended.” I nudged his arm as I slid off the bed.

  “I would hope not,” Detective Johnson said from the doorway before he sauntered in.

  Johnson looked like a cop. Some people just give off the cop vibe, and he was one of them.

  “I guess that’s my cue to leave,” I said, stepping around him.

  His palm caught my arm and moved me back into the room.

  I stared at the fingers interrupting the blood circulation in my arm. Two seconds and he’d be leaving here in a finger cast. Huh. I met his gaze. “Do you think they’ll put a cast on broken fingers? If I break your middle one then you’ll have an excuse for flipping everyone the bird. You can thank me later.”

  “Johnson.” Mason’s voice contained enough demand that Johnson released me.

  “You aren’t going anywhere, Ms. Blue. You can answer my questions here or at the station. The choice is yours.”

  I met Mason’s gaze and read the pity on his face.

  “I took her to Faraday’s because I believed she could help nail Faraday’s assailants.”

  “Faraday is my case.” Johnson glanced between both of us, and then his gaze settled on me. “How did you think you could help? Are you and Faraday friends? Were you a witness? What?”

  I pressed my lips together. It would take more than pliers to get me to open. Okay, so I exaggerate. Pliers would ruin my lipstick. Johnson dangling cuffs in front of my face would have me singing like a canary. Still, no metal, no words. I glared daggers at Johnson. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he wasn’t the head of my cheering team. Maybe I should buy him pompoms. The thought made me grin.

  “Just tell him already.” Mason’s voice was full of resignation. “He’s not going to drag you into this. It will make the department look bad.”

  Ouch. I gawked at Mason and held my hand over my heart in a theatrical show that I did not approve. My time in the high school drama program hadn’t been entirely wasted. My tips were beyond reproach. I’d helped provide countless clues for numerous cold cases, even if my efforts went undocumented.

  “Faraday is my godfather, and he and my father were best friends. I thought I could help.”

  “Blue.” Mason sighed as he said my name.

  “Fine.” I tossed my hands up in the air. “I’m psychic. I see dead people, and I know things, but in all fairness, the godfather part is true too. Are you happy now?”

  Johnson’s mouth parted. That was the standard expression I received when I peeked out of my closet. One day the world would end, and I’d find men and women with pitchforks ready to roast me like a pig over an open pit. It could happen.

  I waited as silence filled the room under the scrutiny of his glare.

  And waited.

  “Believe me, don’t believe me, I don’t care.” My words might have come out a little snappy. I was tired, I was cranky, and the cookie I had for dinner was wearing off. Trying to manipulate and move 230 pounds of pure muscle from the top of an SUV had zapped my cookie calories with the first tug.

  Johnson snapped his mouth closed and folded his arms over his chest. “No one is dead in this case.”

  I pointed my finger at him. “See, that’s the thing. I can tap into energy also, and when I do, I can get pictures or words or whatever. It just pops in my mind. I’m clairvoyant. I’ve got mad skills.” I cupped my mouth with one hand and lowered my voice. “But keep that to yourself, yeah? I’m still hiding in my closet pretending to be normal.”

  Johnson tilted his head, his brows pulled together.

  “It was her tip that helped find Sammy Render.”

  “She could have been in the park that day. She could have seen what was going on and just waited to come forward. Hell, she could have been in on it.”

  I let out a tired sigh and gave Mason the I-told-you-so annoyed face I reserved for skeptics and the grocer when he runs out of my favorite secret cookie ingredient. I slowly turned back to Johnson and rested my hand on his arm, getting a feel for his energy. I lifted the veil to peek behind the curtain about Johnson and was bombarded with words and pictures in my head. My guides, whom I often called my tribe, were really on their game today.

  “Your wife was fired; she was being harassed by her asshole boss. You s
hould really consider suing him for sexual harassment. You’ll find she wasn’t the only one he was targeting. Your daughter just made all A’s and gets picked on because she’s quiet. You should buy her a puppy.” I grinned and continued. “You just installed new hardwood floors in your house. No, not your house.” I gave him a conspiratorial wink. “Your man cave.” I pointed to his knee. “Your left knee is throbbing and giving you fits lately. Your cortisone shot is wearing off. You should go see about that while you’re here and save yourself a trip.”

  His gaze remained unfixed, if not hardening a little more. I had that effect on people. Some skeptics didn’t like me all up in their business, but Detective Douche was practically begging for proof. My phone vibrated in my hand, and I glanced at the caller ID.

  “You can fill him in on everything I picked up on at the house, right?” I turned to leave. Amateur detective hour was over, and I was starting to come up with other ways I might help solve this case.

  “Where are you going?” Mason called out.

  “My ride is waiting.” I spun around at the last minute and snapped my fingers, pointing at Johnson. “There’s one part he can’t tell you because he was unconscious and out of commission. Someone in the woods shot at us after the house blew. I pulled him off the hood of the SUV to safety, and then you guys showed up.” I lifted my Grammy’s dress to show him the in-and-out holes from the bullet. “I think that about covers it. Oh, and could you give a message to Faraday for me? Just tell him I’ll have his room ready at the house when he breaks out of this place.”

  They looked at me like I had horns sticking out of my head. I slyly smoothed my hair down before wiggling my fingers as I left. “Later, fellas.”

  Mason

  Chapter 6

  M ason couldn’t believe he was standing on her doorstep. He’d been standing out there for minutes debating whether he should knock or send a patrol car by to keep an eye on her tonight.

  He’d stopped in to break the news to Faraday about his house, and what he and Cree had found, and Faraday had been close to coming unhinged. He’d been annoyed with the news about being homeless but ballistic that Mason had put Cree in harm’s way. Mason couldn’t blame him. If Cree was Mason’s sister, he would have been ready to fight too.

  Only Cree and his sister had a ton in common; they both would have gone without permission anyway. Explaining that had been his only saving grace.

  Mason had raised his fist to knock when the door swung open.

  “Do you need a sleeping bag, or would you like to come in?”

  Cree had the apron tied around her body again, and a speck of flour dotted her cheek.

  “How did you know I was here? Did you get a flash in your head?”

  She grinned like she had all the secrets in the world. “We have security cameras. My dad insisted on it, so I knew the moment you turned in the drive. I would have come out here sooner, but I was afraid dinner would burn.”

  She left the door open and turned to walk away, leaving him to follow behind her.

  “I hope you’re hungry. I came home famished, and I’ve cooked enough for an army.”

  “You enjoy cooking?”

  “Not really, but it helps to drown out the voices in my head.” She glanced over her shoulder and grinned.

  The smell of oregano and garlic filled the hallway and strengthened as he followed behind her into an industrial-sized kitchen. Three wedding cakes were sitting on shelves behind a glass door in a huge walk-in fridge.

  “So you’re a baker?”

  “Sort of,” she answered. “I’m more like a chemist. I mix and create flavors, enhancing them and turn them into fabulous desserts. The cookie you had earlier was one of my new ones. I called it the Chocolate Buzz cookie.”

  A pan of lasagna with cheese still bubbling on top was sitting on the counter next to bread sticks and a salad. He peered through the door in the kitchen and into the dining room. Two place settings had been set out in the formal dining room. A small candle between them was unlit.

  “Are you expecting company?”

  “Just you,” she answered, using mittens to carry the lasagna into the dining room. Mason grabbed the breadsticks and salad while she was slipping out of her apron.

  “How did you know I’d come by?”

  “Because it’s something that Faraday would have done. You guys are protectors. It’s encoded in your DNA. I just figured I’d feed you while you were here. I hate to eat alone.”

  “So you guessed.”

  She grinned but didn’t answer as she started to dish portions onto each plate.

  “It must be boring to have all the answers ahead of time.”

  “I don’t make a living peering beneath the veils for answers. I don’t do it just to aggravate people, no matter what you think. I only use my abilities when and if I can help people.”

  “And Johnson?”

  She chuckled, and her eyes sparkled as she poured wine. “Simple. I needed him off balance so I could leave. He’s kind of a douche.”

  “But he’s a good cop. Is it all cops you don’t like or just him?”

  She gestured to the chair at the end of the table and pulled her plate to the chair next to his so they wouldn’t have to holler across the room. “I’m sure he’s not a bad guy, just stressed, and who can blame him with what’s going on with his family?”

  “I’m starting to understand why Faraday was keeping you a secret.”

  Cree Blue wasn’t what she appeared to be. Psychic, sure; baker, absolutely. She could even pass for the southern belle of the Lady Blue Plantation, but something was telling him that Cree had many more secrets she kept hidden beneath the surface. Mason was only seeing what she allowed him to see.

  She smiled and slid a bite of lasagna into her mouth, and he did the same.

  “So how many cases?” he asked while studying her face. She was beautiful in the girl-next-door kind of way. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as though she’d lived each day like it might be her last.

  “I’ll make you a deal. For each question you ask, you have to answer one of mine.”

  “Last time we made a deal, you almost died.”

  “Uh, wrong again. You almost died.” She grinned and took another bite.

  “Okay, so how many?”

  “How many cold cases have we attempted, or how many actually ended up helping to solve the case?”

  “Both.”

  She tapped her fork against her lip. “Between my father and myself, we’ve had fifty-four local attempts and thirty-two that resulted in either additional clues or the case getting solved.”

  Mason broke the bread, popped it into his mouth and started chewing while mulling over her answers. “What do you mean by local? Do you have a string of detectives like Faraday around the country that you help?”

  She pointed her fork at him. “You skipped my turn.”

  He shrugged. She didn’t miss a beat.

  “Who is Moreno?”

  “Dominique Moreno is a local crime boss that was just arrested for murder and is awaiting trial in the county jail.”

  She slowly nodded her head as if thinking it over.

  “Now, what exactly did you mean by local? Do you have more than one detective like Faraday that you’re helping?”

  “He’s the only badge,” she answered. “What kind of evidence do you have on Moreno?”

  “We had a smoking gun with his fingerprints.” He didn’t even give her time to process. “Who do you help that isn’t local?”

  She sat quietly and took another bite of her food as if mulling over her answer, and he knew that was exactly what she was doing.

  “It depends. Sometimes I’ll be watching the news and I get flashes of the real killer or if someone is innocent. If it’s important, then I’ll send the other agencies a letter or call in an anonymous tip. It’s up to them if they want to follow up on it. I don’t hide how I came up with the information. I’m upfront when I tell them that I’m a psych
ic. I just leave my name out of it.”

  “So that’s why Faraday is big on keeping your identity a secret.”

  “I guess.” She smiled. “Who do you think these three guys were that attacked Faraday?”

  “I’d just be guessing if I answered that.”

  “Okay, so guess.” She took another bite of food.

  “My gut tells me it was three of Moreno’s thugs.”

  “Has Johnson questioned them?” she asked.

  Mason wasn’t sure. He would think that Johnson had, but Mason didn’t remember seeing any statements in Faraday’s file. “The case is fresh. I’m sure they’re working hard on solving who did this to Faraday. He’s a cop. That means the whole force is gunning to catch the people responsible. You skipped my turn.”

  “I’ll make you a doggie bag of cookies to take home.”

  Mason chuckled, leaning back in his chair. He could still tell that something was bothering Cree. “You’re safe here.”

  “I know,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “My dad and Grammy made sure of that. The Lady Blue will keep me safe.”

  With that, their conversation turned into more normal things like hobbies and what they each liked to do for fun. They were as different as night and day. Her hobby was baking; where he ate most of his food from takeout. She liked to garden, and he didn’t have a green thumb and couldn’t keep a cactus alive. She was in charge of fundraisers, and the thought of even attending one in a monkey suit had him scratching his collar. When the topic of family came up, she’d maneuvered the conversation in an entirely different direction. It was a subtle shift, but one he was trained to catch. The more they talked, the more he started to understand. Cree Blue was a normal person, if not highly motivated, except for the fact that somehow she knew things that no one could explain. Two hours later, she made good on her word and walked him to the door with a doggie bag full of leftovers and cookies in his hands.

  “Are you going to be okay here the rest of the night?”

  She rested her hand on the door as he stepped out onto the veranda. “Why wouldn’t I be?”