by CC Dragon
“Your sister was the only girl and not a twin.”
Warren gritted his teeth and nodded.
I had a much better picture of the situation now. “Darren was arrested for killing your sister and placed in a mental institution?”
“I didn’t mean for that to happen. It was supposed to be just another accident. Karen was never even arrested. Just a little report and they were gone. The neighbor butted in and said he was torturing her. Then they put Darren away and Mom gave away all our stuff. I had another solution but he wouldn’t do it. He was such a baby.”
“You were the stronger twin?”
“Of course, he needed me there. I’ve hung around for him. Helped him survive that place. Since he wouldn’t join me we had to be there. Wimp.”
“Why now? Why are you tracking the dolls now?”
He glared at me. “I’m tired of it. I’m tired of being alone, but not really alone. Besides, they had Darren locked up so I couldn’t really do anything. I haunted the dolls but it’s not the same. I can’t kill the girls myself so I had to help Darren get out of there.”
“Your brother was up for parole?”
“Sure, but he was still seeing me. So I left for a bit. Once they thought he was sane and not a danger, they let him out. We’ve been together ever since. The cops will get him when the time is right.”
“Why would you want him locked up again?”
“Not locked up. They’ll get him.” The kid mimed a gunshot to the head and fell over, playing dead. “Then we’ll be done with everything and together forever. I’ll follow him to that Other Side.”
Subtle ghost. “Why doesn’t Darren just turn himself in? Louisiana’s big on capital punishment, from what I understand. Killing a little girl in cold blood has to be good for a lethal injection.”
“No way. He’s not done yet. He’s only got one down. There are four dolls. Four! He’s going to get rid of all of them or die trying.” Warren gave a satisfied nod.
“Do you ever see your sister?” It was an abrupt change but I had to get deeper.
“Why? So she can mock me?” That flustered Warren.
“I thought you’d want to rub her face in it. You did get revenge.”
“I can’t see her if I don’t go over. I guess that’s how it works. Or she’s just stubborn and mad. They sent someone to talk to me but it wasn’t her. Better that way.”
“To talk to you about going to the Other Side?”
“Sure, but what for? I can’t leave Darren. He’d be a mess. Twins aren’t supposed to be apart. Especially identical twins. If we were meant to be separated, we wouldn’t have been one to begin with. We’re really one person. It took me a long time to accept that but it’s true.”
“Twins can be totally different, Warren. Maybe I can help you two find a way to exist, and still see each other. My grandmother is on the Other Side and I see her a lot. Would you want to try that?”
“Darren needs me all the time. He’s probably lost right now, not knowing what to do. Anyway, you’re working with them. You want Darren in jail. I want my revenge first. Three more dolls and then you can let the cops use Darren for target practice.” Warren smiled.
I’d be repulsed if I didn’t believe Warren really cared about his brother. He wanted to be with him. It was a sick and twisted love but it was true. The twin bond was powerful—love or hate. “Aren’t you mad at Darren?”
“What for?”
“He lived. Darren grew up. He could have kids and a life. You can’t ever have that. Don’t you envy him?”
“He won’t have a real life without me. Just like I can’t be whole without him. It doesn’t work that way. Quit trying to manipulate us. You won’t win.”
“I don’t think anyone can win in this situation, Warren.”
“Three more dolls. Three more deaths. Then maybe I’ll be happy. Don’t get in the way. If you interfere then it might be you.” Warren took a flying jump off the balcony and the French doors slammed closed behind him.
“Little freak,” I muttered. I looked for the medical records on Darren. Boiling down the jargon, it was post-traumatic stress syndrome in an extreme form. With a healthy dose of acute survivor’s guilt. Talk about separation anxiety!
Personal notes by the doctor suggested the twins were close and it was making treatment next to impossible. Darren believed his brother was talking and visiting with him regularly. The courts put him in a mental facility for treatment to be reevaluated at the age of eighteen.
I flipped forward in the medical file. A couple failed escape attempts early on, but no significant incidents. He didn’t commit a single violent act while he was there, and had willingly participated in group and individual therapy. Took all prescribed medications without complaint. No change in behavior was reported with medication. He believed his brother was with him always.
Not much help there.
No progress was reported until the age of seventeen, when he started calling for his brother at night. The doctors took it as a positive sign. He was letting go, finally. They were fooled all right. The facility released him after a year of constant progress. That was only six months ago.
Every nerve ending in my body was twitching. I knew why. It was the dolls. They were the connection. They were Karen’s dolls and the twins would find them all.
Scary, but I’d been right.
I had no idea when the next victim would turn up but she’d be buried with another of Karen’s dolls. There had to be a way to find the dolls.
There had to be another way to find out who the victims would be. I had a lot of questions and no answers. The motive helped me, but the cops wouldn’t care why. They wanted the killer behind bars.
I got off the bed and paced. I wouldn’t sleep anyway. I knew what I needed to do, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. Climbing back into bed, I again put a pen in my hand and paper in front of me. The Other Side was worth a shot.
Chapter Eleven
Yet again I found myself in the bright white waiting room. This place really needed a map! If I could get in, why the hell shouldn’t I know which way to go? There were four doors, but I wasn’t sure if one of them led to hell. That might not be a two-way trip, and really wasn’t on my sightseeing list at the moment.
I wandered the waiting room for a few minutes, examining the doors. I’d just have to pick one. What was the use of being psychic if I couldn’t trust myself a little? I closed my eyes and walked forward. Catholic school said good people were sent to the right, bad to the left. But there were four doors and no St. Peter, so I couldn’t trust that logic. None of the doors were marked just visiting either.
I allowed my feet to gravitate toward the right door. Disorientation set in. There was a weightless feel to this side I hadn’t fully experienced with my eyes open. My feet felt like they were on solid ground, but my senses of direction and balance were mixed up. I felt the door in front of me and forced my eyes open. Not the door farthest to the right, but the one just next to it.
I told my body to write that down. I didn’t want to have to relearn this every time. But since last time that trick didn’t work so well, I took my hand and mocked carefully writing the words on an imaginary pad of paper.
That wasn’t the craziest thing I’d done since coming to New Orleans, so I shrugged it off and opened the door. No way to tell if it worked until I woke up.
I definitely got the right door. Once again I was on Main Street, the Other Side. I was slowly phasing the term Heaven out of my vocabulary, at least over here. They didn’t use it, so I had to get the terminology right. Maybe those left doors led to hell? Did they call hell the Dark Side?
Alone here for the first time, I took in the sights more slowly. Large crystal buildings, a gleaming white dome and all variations of buildings dotted the skyline. Someday I’d come to explore. But not today.
From here I could find my way to Gran’s house, but I wasn’t here to talk to her. The question was how to find Warren and Darr
en’s little sister. Were there maps here? Phones? Somehow I doubted my laptop or the Internet would work on the Other Side.
Since I had no help, I had to go on instinct. If I were related to Darren and Warren, and died falling out of a tree house, where would I live? I started strolling down Main Street and concentrated on the sister’s picture in my mind.
I looked down a short street with a cul-de-sac at the end. The street sloped downward and I saw a woman standing at the edge of the path leading to a one-story home. My feet made the decision, and I was headed for her.
The woman looked like the sister but was fully grown. “My name is Deanna Oscar. I’m looking for Karen Gordon.”
“I’m Karen.” She started walking toward the house.
I hurried to catch up. “You guys really need cars over here.”
“You need a vehicle. You only think you’re tired. Your body hasn’t moved in hours.” Clearly she knew I wasn’t a resident.
“True. But my brain is pulling a lot of overtime.” I followed her in and saw pictures of the twins on her mantel. “You’re really Karen Gordon?”
“Would you rather see me as a child?” She sat down at a cozy kitchen table.
I took the chair opposite her. “No. I just didn’t know you had a choice. Gran died in her eighties, that’s how she shows up. Warren and Little Cel died as children. That’s how I see them. This is new.”
“Well, Warren never went through reorientation or he’d know he doesn’t have to appear as a child. Little Cel will learn. Most of us appear to living loved ones in a way they can recognize us. I’d hate to be seven for eternity, wouldn’t you?”
“I never thought about it. That would suck. I’m sorry to bother you, but I wanted to see if there was any way you could help me.”
“The twins.” She took a deep breath.
“Yeah. They’re very out of control right now. We need to get Darren back into a mental health facility so he can’t hurt anyone else. Is there anything you can give me? He’s found his next victim but I think Warren is interfering with my getting that information. If you tell me, I can make sure the police are there. Darren is very disturbed, but I think I can help him.”
“What about Warren?” she asked.
“Him too. I can’t help Darren without Warren. Warren should be here, with you. Darren should at least get to live out whatever sort of life he has left in peace. Don’t you want that?”
“There are things stronger than want. On your side death, pain and disease are necessary.” The woman was serene but not in an encouraging way.
“Not every death is necessary,” I argued.
“I can’t tell you what you want to know. It’s not within my power.”
“I don’t understand. Darren killed you, it’s not like I’m asking you to give information about the future of a stranger. I learned that lesson from Gran. You know I can stop this.” I started mock writing this on the table so I remembered it all, hopefully.
“You could. I know what would happen if you did. The results would be much worse. This has to play out the way it will. I can’t interfere. But I’ll be here for the next girl and Warren, when they come.”
“I don’t understand.” I looked her in the eyes but she’d made up her mind. She wouldn’t tell me and she had forever. I didn’t. “Fine, do you know if Little Cel is done with reentry reorientation?”
“She is.”
“Where is she?” I asked.
“She can’t tell you what you want to know either.”
“That’s not what I asked. I want to see her. I want to hear that from her.” Stubborn should’ve been my middle name, at least that’s what my mother always said. My patients always talked, but normally I had more time and never resorted to pressure tactics to get there.
Karen looked at her living room and Little Cel appeared, still as a child and she had a ghost of the doll with her.
“Are you doing better, Little Cel?” I got up from the table and moved to the sofa.
She nodded and sat next to me.
Finally a positive response from the girl! “I’m sure you know that I’ve been trying to talk to you about Darren. He’s going to do this again, and I need to stop him.”
Little Cel looked down at her bare feet. “I can’t,” she whispered.
“Why not?” I kept my patience. If Karen had appeared as a child, I probably would’ve been more patient there as well. But apparently all spirits were adult in mind, if not in appearance. Which explained Warren’s adult arguing with childish emotion. He was stuck on a cycle of immature revenge, but had more adult ways to act on it.
“You can’t change the plan.” Little Cel fussed over her doll.
“Why not?”
Karen stood and came closer. “Everyone’s life has a plan. We have no right to change it. You’ll get what you need when you’re supposed to, and not before.”
“Why can’t I catch a break?”
“Your plan.” Little Cel smiled.
“If it’s my plan, why can’t I rewrite it?” I was ready to learn anything Little Cel had to share from reorientation.
“You can, partly. Not all of it, though. But the plan is right. When you veer off it, anything can happen. I have to go now. I’ll see you later.” Little Cel vanished and I was left with Karen.
“I should’ve stayed in bed.” I pulled myself up off the couch. “If you find you can share anything with me, I’d appreciate it.”
“You’re following your plan.” She fluffed the pillows on the couch and wandered back to the kitchen. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“Great. Thanks.” I left the house knowing little more than I had when I came in. Darren, Warren and Karen were all on my less-than-favorite people list right now.
I headed back to the Main Street, and then made my way to Gran’s house. To come to the Other Side and not visit would be rude.
I knocked, but there was no answer. I tried the door and it was open. Even if I just sat for a few moments, I might feel better. I sunk into a big cushy chair and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to miss any of it and mocked writing the plan stuff in case it made sense later.
“You’re forcing things,” a male voice interrupted me.
I opened my eyes but didn’t have to. Grandpa was in the entryway. “I’m going.” I didn’t want to discuss anything with him.
“Your grandmother is on a little trip with friends. She’ll be back soon. I’m not totally useless, you know.” He came a little closer but I stood up.
I could feel the tension knotting in my back, and I wasn’t even in my body. It was reliving twenty years of rejection in an instant.
I forced myself to get a grip. If he could help, I’d take it. “Why am I involved in this if I can’t stop the next murder?”
“Because you can help and you will. You just can’t fix everything.” He took a step closer. I stepped to the side and around to the door.
“My plan sucks,” I muttered.
“That’s a different topic.” He sat down.
“I don’t care. It’s too late. How did you get into Heaven, anyway? You left your wife and treated me like the family freak. Must be pretty easy to make it in here. Is hell empty?” Telling him what I thought felt good. Gran wasn’t here to try to make me be nicer. I might not have this chance again.
“Hell isn’t exactly what you think it is, Deanna. And that’s more than you need to know right now.”
“So I can visit but I can’t understand this place? Doesn’t seem fair.”
“Life isn’t fair. You know that all too well. I’d say I’m sorry for what I did when I was alive, but you don’t want to hear that now. You want to be mad at me. Punish me.”
“I can’t deal with this now. I can’t do anything about these deaths. I can’t figure this place out. I might as well go be a professor. At least there I know what I’m doing, and I won’t be responsible for deaths.” I headed for the door. Enough was enough. I could go against the plan and be less stre
ssed. The safe road was an option. I had a choice.
“Deanna, one day you’ll be more comfortable with all of this. You do know what you’re doing. You’re going now because you need to wake up. The second girl was just killed by Darren.” Grandpa stayed in his chair without any further reaction.
I closed the door behind me. How could I know what I was doing? I’d been goofing off here when a murder was being committed.
Now what? The cops wouldn’t call for my help this time. Matt had made it very clear that unless I had more concrete info, they didn’t need me.
Not that that would stop me.
I mocked a few, last-minute notes to myself and closed my eyes. The power of will amazed me. The decision to wake up was all it took and I caught my breath in bed.
The pain of not moving ached in my muscles and the pain of the second girl’s death pounded in my head. Warren’s little blocking tricks were gone. The name and the crime scene were as clear as Little Cel’s now.
The twins had waited until I was occupied to strike. Warren might look like a kid, but he was a lot more dangerous than I’d given him credit for. And I’d given him a lot of evil ghostly credits.
I forced myself out of bed and into the shower. The police were just getting the call from the parents. According to the clock, it was only four in the morning, and Darren was already long gone. I could take my time getting ready since I didn’t want to beat the cops there. No way did I want anyone accusing me of tampering with evidence or influencing the family.
Once again, we’d be after Darren who was out to bury another little girl and another little doll. Preferably not in another snake-infested mud hole.
This time it’d probably be an alligator swamp with my luck. I couldn’t see my future or death so there was no point in worrying about it. Another little girl was dead.
Warren and Darren were beating me.
I didn’t deal with failure well.
* * * * *
I timed my arrival at the crime scene just right. Cops were already inside but they hadn’t drawn a big crowd.
I blended in pretty well with my white blouse, black jeans and of course the boots. I really needed to go shopping if I was going to keep this up. I had no gym shoes or casual shoes. All I had were the supportive boots for traveling and dress shoes for interviewing.
