by CC Dragon
“It’s easier living a lie? Ask Ivy how hard it was on her to deny reality. Our senior year of high school was hard but she was so much happier out. The family took a while but I don’t think she’d go back for anything.”
“Are you comparing being psychic to being gay?” I forced myself not to laugh.
“Anyone can have a closet. And everyone has to decide for themselves if they want to keep hiding or deal with the reaction of others.” He squeezed my hand and I felt warmth all through me. “And their own.”
“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you? I just can’t help but think Ivy knew she’d be a great drag queen. But I’m not so sure I’m going to pull this off.” I rested my head on his shoulder.
He smelled so good. I knew I was in danger of a lot more than a kiss this time. And I needed it. I wanted it.
“You will.” He sounded confident.
I looked up at him skeptically. Why was he so familiar?
“You don’t have a choice.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, softly at first.
I deepened the kiss and laced my fingers around his forearms. Greg shifted closer. I let my hands move to his chest.
He was so solid, just what I needed. Human contact and warmth, not ghosts and visions. Something real that made me remember I was still alive—for now.
“I thought you were a good little Catholic girl,” he teased.
“I’m good.” I pushed him back until I was straddling his waist. A sexy man flat on his back, this was as normal as I’d felt in a long time.
I pushed his black polo shirt up and off him, with his cooperation. His body was gorgeous. Muscled and still lean enough not to look overdone.
“Big Bud was right. Yankee girls are bossy.” Greg didn’t seem to mind.
I smacked his shoulder. “If that’s where you get advice about women, it’s no wonder you don’t have a girlfriend.”
He pulled me down into a deeper kiss. His hands slid under my t-shirt. Slowly, he lifted it off me and I didn’t care about my less than seductive blue cotton bra.
Greg’s hands were all over my torso and the little cloth I had left. He half sat up and his mouth was on my shoulders. I closed my eyes as he pulled one bra strap to the side and his tongue teased the exposed area.
Closing my eyes was my first mistake.
A flash came to me. Not a sexy flash but the dead body of Tina Price. Victim number two. I opened my eyes, trying to enjoy the moment. I needed this. Stopping wouldn’t catch the killer or change anything. I just had to keep my eyes open.
Greg pulled my mouth down to his and I found kissing with my eyes open creepier than the body. I closed my eyes. This time I saw the doll next to the girl’s body. I tried opening my eyes again but I could still see the image.
Talk about bad timing!
I pulled back and broke the kiss. “Gross. Sorry.” I rubbed my eyes. “Damn it.”
“What’s wrong?” Greg looked at me with concern.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just can’t. Shit! Now the body’s location decides to come clear. I’m a cosmic joke. What’s going to happen? Every time I want to have sex, I’m going to get some weird psychic flash to interrupt me? I can’t live like that.”
“It’s okay.” Greg sat back. “You’re preoccupied with this case. It won’t always be like this.”
“You don’t know that.” I moved off him and grabbed the phone. “Maybe that’s exactly what it’ll be like for the rest of my life.”
I dialed Matt’s cell and waited. He was looking at the caller ID and debating whether or not to take my crazy call. I just knew it.
Finally he picked up. “Yeah?”
“I know where the body is.” I didn’t even bother to identify myself.
“Where?” he replied.
“The creek behind the Price’s home.”
“We looked there. Twice. It’s not there.” Matt sounded annoyed.
“It’s there. He just buried it.” This interrupted my would-be sex life. It had to be right or I’d be really pissed off.
“In broad daylight? Behind the girl’s house? You’re crazy.”
“Probably but he did it. Tina Price is there. I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.” Tired of arguing I hung up, knowing he’d show. Matt had no other leads. I was it and I wasn’t backing off my vision.
I looked around and realized I’d left my purse and shoes downstairs by the door. “I have to go meet Matt. I’ll talk to you later.” I ran my fingers through my hair.
“Um, Deanna?” He stopped me as I opened the door.
“What?” I expected some weird or awkward moment out of a movie. Maybe a suggestion for a date in order to pick up where we’d left off. Or the standard this was a mistake letdown.
“Shirt?” He pointed at my chest.
I looked down and cursed under my breath.
Of course, that would be perfect. Topless psychic finds missing body. “Thanks.”
Locating my shirt, I pulled it over my head and adjusted my bra straps so everything was in the right place. If it were Mardi Gras, I’d have blended in just fine, but I didn’t need to give the cops a show.
Finally, I was out the door to another body excavation. This was becoming too much of a routine, but would it ever feel normal?
* * * * *
Arriving back at the victim’s home, I found the situation very different from before. The Price family had gotten media attention and a few reporters and photographers were standing watch outside the house.
I could try to cut through another yard but they’d see me in the back and I’d be trapped on my way out. There was no back way into the creek area and they had cameras with large lenses. I probably couldn’t avoid being spotted no matter how hard I tried.
Taking a deep breath, I got out of the Jeep and headed down the sidewalk to the driveway. Reporters wasted no time in throwing questions at me, crowding me as though it would intimidate me into answering. A good psychological tactic, but I was on to them there.
“Are you a friend of the family?”
I pretended not to hear a thing. “Excuse me” was all I said.
“Are you with the police?” Another reporter pushed a tape recorder in my face.
I made it to the backyard where two uniformed officers let me pass, but stopped the reporters and sent them back to the street.
I’d never been so happy to see Matt. “What the hell is all that about?”
“The family is looking for publicity. Any help they can get. They want this killer in the chair. America’s Most Wanted will be here tonight. We’re officially calling this guy a serial killer now.” Matt looked stressed.
“Did you tell the Price family about me?”
“No, if they ask, you’re a consultant. To save time maybe you should point out where she is.” He led me to the bank of the creek. “Nothing looks disturbed.”
I’d made progress with Matt and the police. Last time I wasn’t allowed on site. They were starting to trust me at least.
I walked over the bank and the spot reverberated through my body the second I touched it. “Here, about three feet down. He used the neighbors’ hose to wet the dirt so it wasn’t obvious.” I stepped away and the police cordoned off the area and brought in the crime scene team to dig.
Matt led me to the side, behind the house so the reporters couldn’t see. “We need to find this guy.”
“You’re good at saying that. You’ve got the name.”
“We’ve been looking for him. Stopped a ton of white trucks and found nothing. You need to talk to the judge. Tomorrow, ten a.m. I’ll set it up. His schedule is packed, but we’ve got to do something.”
“I don’t see how my talking to the judge will help. You’re looking for Darren. There should only be one more little girl at risk. I’m not sure what he’ll do then.” Not that that was much comfort to the third girl’s family, whomever they were, but it was all I had.
“What do you mean? The picture has four dolls. I talked to th
e mother. The family gave all four dolls away at a garage sale after Darren was locked up. I emailed her a picture and she confirmed it. Those are the dolls she made. There has to be another.” Matt was at least convinced about the dolls.
“There is a fourth and I have it. One of them was in my storeroom. Someone must’ve handed it over to Gran. Warren’s been haunting them.”
“Who?” Matt asked.
“Darren’s twin brother. He died accidentally. His sister pushed him out of the tree house. It was all in the second article I gave you. Didn’t you read it?”
“Right, the brother. His ghost? That’s what you’re running your mouth about?” Matt grew frustrated. “We’ve got a real killer on the loose!”
“Look, Warren is the one manipulating Darren. That’s why we can’t get a handle on him. They’ll go after one more little girl and then me.” Damn. I hadn’t meant to say that.
Matt didn’t look convinced. “Why you?”
“Because I know. Believe me I know this is crazy, but Darren isn’t smart enough to be this good on his own. The brother is helping him. America’s Most Wanted won’t help you. Darren and Warren will work around whatever info you get.”
“Any better ideas?” Matt challenged.
“We need the doll. Can we get the dolls on TV? ‘If you have this doll, please contact police?’” I suggested.
“If we do that, half the parish will bring in their kids’ dolls asking if it’s the one. There would be widespread panic if any doll even slightly resembled these. We can’t cause that. That’s endangering the public.”
“Isn’t that better than just telling them there’s a serial killer of little girls on the loose?” I returned.
“It’ll only make things harder to have the system clogged up with fake dolls. Cops will be obligated to investigate every report. You have to find the next girl before the killer does.” He tapped his temple. “Use it or we’ll all be on the evening news with another murder.”
“Got it!” yelled a cop from the creek bed.
Matt and I walked over. There was Tina with her doll in another sleeping bag. Just like my vision.
I closed my eyes and wanted to see the next girl before it happened again.
The address of her house.
When it would happen.
Anything.
I got nothing.
“Well, that’s two for two bodies. How about now you find us a live little girl we can protect?” Matt punched me softly in the shoulder and walked away.
I sighed and headed for my car. Matt had to go talk to the family, let them see their daughter buried so close to them and gone forever. My being there would only make matters worse.
The reporters were still there but it was easier to tune them out this time. I registered their questions but gave no reaction.
“How did you find the body?”
“In what capacity are you helping the police?”
“What’s your name?”
“Do you know who the killer is?”
All information I wasn’t about to share.
“Deanna Oscar,” a voice boomed from past the pack of reporters.
I looked up.
I shouldn’t have, but I did.
It was Big Bud smiling and waving from the next-door lawn. He was in a black tank top that hardly covered his stomach and insanely bright yellow Bermuda shorts, topped off with black socks and sandals. I didn’t know what to say as he cut through the reporters and wrapped a beefy arm around my shoulders.
This wouldn’t be good.
“I knew you’d be here helping that poor little thing next door, Deanna. She was a sweet girl and they’re a good family. Greg said you were working on this case. At least you found the body.” He looked back into the yard.
“Do you know this woman? Who is she?” A reporter jumped at Big Bud.
“Sure, friend of the family. I live next door and my family owns The Buddy on the Bayou restaurant in the French Quarter. Deanna Oscar comes from a long line of people with the sight. She found the body straight away. Helping them find the killer too, no doubt.”
At that moment I wanted the earth to open and swallow me up. Anything I said now would only make things worse. Goodbye teaching at Tulane or Columbia.
Cameras flashed, tape recorders and microphones moved in. The glare of a light on a video camera momentarily blinded me. Questions flew from all sides.
“Now that’s enough.” He pushed through the crowd that was still asking what kind of a doctor I was and what the killer’s name was. “Dr. Oscar has done her job here. Done enough for now. Can’t exhaust the woman flat out.”
Did I use tarot cards?
Did I practice voodoo?
Was I a follower of Wicca?
I refused to react.
Big Bud got me to my Jeep as the police showed up and herded the reporters back to their area. I took a deep breath and let Big Bud have it once the cameras weren’t pointed at us anymore.
I whacked Big Bud’s arm hard with my purse. “What the hell did you do that for?”
“What? You looked like you needed a friendly face.” He looked hurt.
“Friendly? Friendly isn’t throwing me to those wolves. You gave them my name and why I’m here. I don’t need or want publicity.” I took a few deep breaths and got into the Jeep. They had way too much information now. I rested my forehead against the steering wheel. “I’m going to be on the news.”
“You deserve it, Miss Deanna. You found that body and you’ll find the killer. It’s my neighborhood, and I want it to be safe.” Big Bud had the best of intentions.
But there was an old saying about the road to hell and good intentions. I must’ve hit one of the potholes. I had the strong feeling that I was about to experience hell on earth.
“Please, don’t do me any more favors. I really don’t want publicity. It’ll only turn this case into a three-ring circus, and the girl deserves better than that.” I grabbed my sunglasses out of my purse and put them on. Like it’d make a difference. They had my name already. But it made me feel better.
“Sorry. I know how your grandmother didn’t like it but you’re a lot younger. This is your life now. You should accept it and love it. A musician’s life isn’t easy either, but it’s my destiny.” He smiled. “Go with it.”
“Thanks for the advice. I have to get home now. I don’t want to upset the family.” I started the Jeep. “I wouldn’t talk to the press anymore either. Let the family have their time with the body in peace.”
“Sure thing.” He stepped away from the car and nodded like he understood. “Bye, Miss Deanna.”
“Bye, Big Bud.” I gave him a half wave and peeled away from the curb, praying I wouldn’t find reporters invading my front lawn.
* * * * *
I stalled going home and swung by the Internet café. Caffeine soothed me while I checked my email. If I ever needed support now was the time.
I had two messages. One a general welcome from The Third Eye’s owner. How they loved my grandmother and would welcome my participation in any groups or education events they had coming up. With the friendly tone, I wanted to go there now but I was too wrapped up in the current case. The other email was personal.
You can’t make your family supportive. You must seek out support in others. That’s what we are.
Yeah, that was pretty much what I’d tell my patients in therapy. It was still nice to hear.
I drafted an email with a more immediate question. How do you seal a room against ghost invasion? I explained what Greg and I had done to the storeroom but I hoped there was more I could do to control unwanted ghosts.
I sent the email and headed for home to see what the fallout was from Big Bud’s big mouth.
Chapter Fifteen
The gate was secure and the front of my house looked peaceful as I did a drive-by before putting the Jeep in the garage.
The reporters hadn’t tracked down my address yet, or Ivy had already scared them away, or
I wasn’t a big enough story. Please, let it be the last one. I crossed my fingers for extra luck.
I entered the house through the back and all was quiet. No reporters got inside. I exhaled in relief and kicked off my shoes, dumping my purse on the kitchen table.
Getting a cup of coffee, I saw Missy in the doorway. “What’s up?”
“You better go and see what’s in the parlor.” Missy wandered up the servants’ staircase.
I headed to the living room, also called the parlor. There were just too many rooms in this place!
There I saw Gran and Little Cel sitting on the couch. “Something going on?” Like maybe they could tell me who the next victim would be?
“Little Cel wanted to come and see you,” Gran said. “She felt badly about how disappointed you were after talking with her and Karen.”
“Okay.” I sat down on the other side of Little Cel. “How are you doing?”
“Fine.” She swung her feet on the edge of the couch. “Tina Price is in reorientation.”
“I figured. Are you going to help her get used to the Other Side?”
Little Cel nodded. “We’re going to help you too. Only we can’t just yet.”
“Soon?”
“Yes. You can’t die.” Her soft brown eyes looked up at me with hope.
“Can’t?” I looked at Gran. I liked the sound of that but didn’t buy it.
“Of course you can die. Little Cel doesn’t want you to,” Gran explained.
“That’s very nice. I think Warren does want me to die. We’ll have to outsmart him.”
Little Cel shook her head. “A ghost can’t kill you. I have to go now.”
“Okay. Thanks for coming.” I watched her vanish and looked at Gran for answers.
“She’s got to practice showing up and leaving. It takes time. So the press?” Gran frowned.
I buried my face in my hands. “I didn’t want it to happen. Why did Big Bud have to open his big mouth?”
“It’ll be okay. You’ll just have to be a little more careful and work a little faster.”
“This isn’t a paper I have to write. How do I speed this up?” Any suggestion would do. I was in no position to be picky.
“Don’t worry. It’ll happen. Tell me what you see.” She patted my knee.
