by Sharon Sala
Her heart sank.
It was 2:00 a.m. when the call came, and all Tara could do was hold her breath, waiting for Mona to answer. Pat sat up in the recliner. Tara looked at her uncle then put a hand over her mouth, too scared to speak.
All of a sudden they heard a door bang against the wall and then Mona came out of her room, crying.
Pat ran toward her. Tara stood up, but was too scared to move.
“They found him! They found him!” Mona screamed, and then collapsed in Pat’s arms.
Tara sat back down because her legs would no longer hold her.
“Is he okay?” Pat asked.
“He’s fine. I talked to him. The two detectives who were here have gone to get him. They said they’d be back by daybreak.”
“What about the men who kidnapped him?” Pat asked.
“They’re all three in custody.”
“All’s well that ends well,” Pat said, and gave her a hug. “It’s a little early for breakfast, but none of us are going to be able to go back to sleep. I’ll make coffee.”
“I have some sweet rolls,” Mona said, and then laughed because her relief was so great that it was either that or cry all over again.
It isn’t over.
Tara’s heart sank. She already knew that, but hearing Millicent say it only made the fear worse. She crawled back onto the sofa, laid down and pulled the afghan back up over her shoulders.
Hiding won’t make it go away.
I know that. Who killed the man who was talking to Flynn? Surely not that Sam guy . . . he wouldn’t kill his own brother, would he?”
Silence.
Tara frowned and then whispered, “Millicent? Henry?”
To her disgust, they had made themselves absent. She never understood why they popped up in her life at the most inopportune times, and then when she really needed a question answered, they got all vague and disappeared.
Her stomach hurt and so did her head. She wanted to cry, but it would solve nothing but make her uncle Pat realize she knew something they didn’t. Something hard was under her elbow. She shifted enough to realize she’d been lying on her cell phone and picked it up to check for messages. There was one from Nikki, but it was over a couple of hours old.
Do you and Flynn want to go get Hideaway pizza tomorrow night with Corey and me?
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. If only her life was as simple as Nikki’s. Why did she have to be born so weird? She couldn’t imagine how cool it would be to just live your life without seeing ghosts and bad things happening to people.
But then you wouldn’t know us.
All of a sudden you’re back? Then Tara sighed. “I know, Millicent, and I love you both. I don’t want you out of my life. I just wish life was a little less chaotic sometimes, that’s all.”
Henry popped up with a sad look on his face and began blowing her kisses. She sighed again, and managed a half-hearted smile.
“Okay, okay, I’m over the pity party. But you guys have to do more than blow kisses and tell me how to behave. If I need you—really need you—you have to come through for me, as well. Deal?”
Deal.
Henry high-fived her as a pink puff of smoke slid across her line of vision.
“Hey, Tara, Mona made you some hot chocolate and she has honey buns . . . your favorite.”
“I’ll be right there,” Tara said.
She wasn’t sure if she could swallow without bursting into tears, but she had to give it her best try. Mona and Uncle Pat didn’t need more worries tonight, and she didn’t have anything helpful to tell them.
It was 6:45 a.m. when they heard a car pull up into the driveway.
Mona ran to the window. “They’re here, and there’s Flynn! Oh thank the lord!” She ran out onto the porch to meet him.
Uncle Pat was in the kitchen doing dishes. Tara began folding up the afghan and looking for her purse. She had something to say to Flynn and then she was going to school.
Flynn came inside talking, but the moment he saw Tara in his living room, he stopped. “Uh, I didn’t know you’d be—”
Still smarting from being shut out, Tara put her hands on her hips. “We’re just leaving, but FYI . . . you are a dumb ass.”
Mona frowned.
“Hey,” Flynn muttered. “I got kidnapped, my dad just died, and that’s how you’re gonna play it?”
“No, Flynn. I don’t play at all when something this bad happens, and I’m so very sorry that your father died. But you have me to thank for the fact you’re even standing in this house, and it is no thanks to you. I thought you trusted me. Obviously, you don’t. But you need to remember that, like it or not, when something goes wrong with the people I care about, it is in their best interests to accept that I am going to know and probably interfere. I have this thing that I do, called being psychic? Remember?”
“Tara, ease up,” Pat said.
“Oh, I’m easy all over the place,” Tara said. “Are the cops still here?”
Flynn felt guilty and sad and mad all at the same time. He knew she was right, but so was he. This was his mess and it was dangerous. He’d lied to her for a reason, or so he’d thought—to keep her safe.
“They’re outside,” he said.
She glanced up at her uncle. “I’ll be outside when you’re ready to leave.” She headed for the door with her head up and tears in her eyes.
“Tara, wait,” Flynn said. “I didn’t tell you because I knew how dangerous they were. I didn’t want you involved.”
She paused. “Yeah, I get that, but I don’t know how to turn off who I am, and you should know that, too. If I was a doctor and you were bleeding, you would have willingly come to me to fix it. I know stuff Flynn. They could have killed you and it would have been the biggest regret of my life that I knew what was happening and the cops wouldn’t have been able to find you until it was too late. Yes, your dad died, but you knew it was going to happen because he was sick. How do you think your mom would have felt if you’d died tonight, too? Hunh, Flynn? How about that?”
She sailed past him, her chin trembling.
Flynn felt like he’d been sideswiped. He’d been accosted, kidnapped, learned his dad was dead, rescued by the cops, and then to come home to this was more than he could handle. He would have expected almost any kind of reaction from Tara except for her to be angry at him. His shoulders slumped as he watched her go out the door.
“She’ll get over it. Really glad this turned out okay,” Pat said, and patted him on the shoulder as he followed her out.
Tara was sad, but there were things left to be done. She walked across the street to where the police were parked. Rutherford was talking to the cop in the cruiser who’d been on guard.
“We need to talk,” Tara said.
Rutherford glanced at Allen. They walked to the end of the car where she was standing.
“Look, you did real good helping us find him. We’ve got the kidnappers in custody and—”
“You have a body in the morgue and none of those men had anything to do with it. I don’t know who did it, but I am telling you now that until you find the killer, Flynn and his mother are still in danger. Someone wants that money, and they’re coming after her next and will use Flynn to force her to tell.”
“Well shit, excuse my language,” Rutherford muttered. “Are you sure?”
She glared.
Detective Allen sighed. “We hear you. We’ll keep an eye on them, but they’ve both refused to leave. Flynn said he’s not running, and his mother said the same.”
“Whatever,” Tara said. “I’m going home.”
Her uncle Pat was waiting for her in the car when she got in.
“Are you okay, honey?” he asked.
Tara took a deep, shaky breath. “No, but we need to hurry so I’m not late for school.”
“I can write you an excuse if you want to stay home.”
Tara swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “I don’t want to stay home.”
He sque
ezed her hand. “Then I’ll drop you off on my way to work. I’ve already called in to let them know I’ll be a little late. I told the boss enough about what happened to keep him from being ticked, so we’re both good to go.”
Tara leaned back and closed her eyes as Pat drove away. Her heart hurt. Her feelings were hurt. She was scared for Flynn and his mom, and she was scared even more that she wouldn’t find out who was behind this until it was too late.
Chapter Three
Tara was numb by the time she got to school. She was tired and side-tracked, still worrying about Flynn, but hurt and angry at the same time. The last bell had already rung by the time she walked into the building so she headed straight to the office.
The principal, Mrs. Crabtree, was in the outer office. She frowned when Tara walked in. “You’re late, Tara.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She handed the secretary her written excuse, but Mrs. Crabtree took it instead and quickly read it.
“It says here there was an emergency, but it doesn’t say what kind.”
Tara sighed. “It was personal, Mrs. Crabtree. My uncle signed the note.”
The office door opened behind Tara. Mrs. Crabtree’s eyes widened, and then she said “AHA!” in such a loud voice that Tara jumped as Mrs. Crabtree pointed.
“You think this flimsy excuse is going to get past me? You two are a couple and you’re both late for school. Let me see your note, young man.” and snatched the note right out of Flynn’s hand.
Flynn looked at Tara and shrugged as he handed it over.
Only Mrs. Crabtree’s indignation ended as swiftly as it had come.
“Uh . . . er . . . uh . . . this note is from the Stillwater Police Department.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Flynn said. “I had to finish giving my statement this morning.”
Mrs. Crabtree frowned. “Statement? Were you arrested?”
“No, ma’am. I was kidnapped yesterday afternoon. The police found me and rescued me in McAlester this morning around 2:00 a.m. I wouldn’t be here at all today except that we’re having a big test in Spanish that I didn’t want to make up.”
Mrs. Crabtree gasped. “You were kidnapped?”
“Yes, ma’am. It had to do with some stuff my dad had been mixed up in. The police found me only because Tara was helping them, or I’d still be tied to a chair in that motel.”
Tara’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected him to acknowledge that, not that she needed a pat on the back or anything.
Mrs. Crabtree saw the rope burns on his wrists and the dark circles under his eyes. “Are you alright? Should you be here, I mean?”
“There’s a police car waiting for me out in the parking lot. I need to take that test, and then they’re taking me home to be with my Mom. I’ll be gone from school for the next two days for my father’s funeral.”
“Your father died?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Now the principal’s frown was completely gone. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
The principal kept looking from Tara to Flynn and back again. She was about to ask another question when the door suddenly opened and then slammed shut behind them again, only there was no one there.
Tara blinked. That would be Millicent, and she was obviously ticked. She just did not like Mrs. Crabtree.
Mrs. Crabtree was very familiar with the crazy stuff that happened when Tara was around. The last time she’d confronted Tara Luna, she’d gone home with a black mustache drawn on her upper lip from a runaway permanent marker. She’d had to bleach her skin to get it off, her lip had peeled, and it had taken a week for the bleach smell under her nose to go away. She wanted no part of the girl or her spooks. She looked down at the notes. She’d never gotten one from the police department on a student’s behalf before.
“Write them a hall pass,” she told the school secretary, and then bolted into her office and closed the door.
Tara got her note and walked out, heading to first hour as fast as she could walk. She didn’t want to talk to Flynn and then be all red-eyed and crying when she got into class. But she didn’t walk fast enough and Flynn caught up with her halfway down the hall.
“Tara, wait.”
She pointed to the hall monitor and kept on walking.
Flynn sighed. She was really mad, but so was he. His uncles down in Ardmore were already planning his dad’s funeral. Flynn couldn’t wrap his head around the fact he’d never talk to him again. He knew he should have told someone about Floy Nettles threatening him yesterday morning. It might have stopped Floy’s brother, Sam, from kidnapping him, but it was too late to change what had happened. It was frightening to learn that someone killed Floy only hours after Floy had confronted him, and they still didn’t know who had done it.
He watched Tara walking away, and could tell by the stiff set of shoulders and her long, hurried stride that he’d hurt her feelings by shutting her out. He was so used to taking care of business on his own that it had never occurred to him to dump his troubles on anyone. However, knowing what she could do, as she’d said, he had been something of a dumb ass not to ask for help, and was man enough to admit it. If she’d only give him a chance to apologize, it might help unwind the knot in the pit of his belly.
Tara knew Flynn was watching her, but she kept on walking. She wanted to talk to him, too, but they couldn’t do it now, and she didn’t want an audience when it did happen.
He’s sorry.
Tara sighed. So am I.
He’s very sad.
I know. His father died.
Well duh.
OMG! Tara gasped. Of course Millicent knew that. In fact, Michael O’Mara and Millicent were in the same place now. If Flynn’s dad would come to her, she could talk to him. She could find out where that money was hidden and turn it over to the police. Then whoever was still out there would have no reason to come after Flynn.
Millicent! You need to find—
Pop!
She caught a glimpse of pink smoke just before she heard the pop.
Well great. Millicent left without a word of goodbye and Tara was at her classroom. She had to go inside. Why did everything have to be so complicated?
Flynn left the building after he took his Spanish test. Tara saw him getting into the police car and leaving during the break between classes, but so did a lot of other students. By the next break it was all over school that Flynn O’Mara had gotten arrested. Everyone was giving Tara funny looks, as if by association alone she’d become tainted, too.
Tara hated the little gossip mill that was part of school life, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. She was heading to her locker to grab a new notebook when her old nemesis, Prissy, cornered her in the hall.
“Hey, Lunatic. We saw your boyfriend getting arrested. Are you next?”
Tara glared. “Get out of my way, Prissy. You’re going to make me late to class.”
Prissy didn’t move fast enough to suit Millicent.
All of a sudden Prissy went flying backwards, scattering books and people in her wake.
Tara grabbed a notebook out of her locker and walked away.
“Hey! She pushed me! Did you guys see that? She pushed me!” Prissy yelled.
Two of the girls from the cheerleader squad were passing by right after Prissy went down. Head cheerleader, Bethany Fanning, frowned as her friend Mel helped Prissy up. Prissy was persona-non-grata in their little clique since she’d gotten kicked off the cheerleader squad for cheating on a test. Bethany was not as sympathetic, but Mel still felt sorry for her.
“She didn’t touch you, Prissy, and you know it,” Mel whispered. “Stop making a scene and get up.”
“Well, her crappy boyfriend still got arrested!” Prissy yelled.
Tara had been willing to ignore her, but that last shot was one too many. She turned around and headed back up the hall toward Prissy.
“OMG, she’s coming back,” Mel said.
Prissy’s heart s
kipped a beat.
“Seriously, Pris, what’s the matter with you?” Brittany said and walked off, leaving Prissy to face her fate alone.
“I’ve got to go,” Mel said, and ran off as Tara came striding back, her long legs making short work of the distance.
Tara was so mad she was shaking. She stopped just inches from Prissy’s face and jabbed a finger in her shoulder.
“Here’s the deal, Prissy. It’s a long sad story, but the bottom line is that the police were not arresting Flynn. They’re protecting him. And, they were here to take him back to his mother’s house because his father died last night. Flynn has had a very rough two days. He’s sad. And he came to school to take an important test and now he’s going home and won’t be back until after the funeral.”
Tara shifted the jab to Prissy’s chest and proceeded to punctuate every sentence with a poke. “Now that you know this, I expect you to spread the truth to one and all, because if I hear even one more person say he got arrested today, I’m coming after you. Poke. It won’t matter if you’re not the one who said it. Poke. You’re the one I’m coming after because you did more than your part to start the lie and it’s up to you to spread the truth. Do you get my drift?” Poke, poke.
Prissy couldn’t speak and barely had the sense to nod because Tara Luna looked like she was glowing. It had to be the sunlight coming through a window behind her, but it was a daunting sight just the same.
Tara gave Prissy her best evil eye and then stomped off, unaware that someone else was watching her every move—the same someone with a scar on his face who’d saved her from falling the day before.
It was lunch time before Tara caught up with Nikki. She had to let her know she and Flynn could not go out with her and boyfriend, Corey, Friday night.
She slid into a seat beside Mac and across the table from Nikki and Penny.
“I heard about Flynn’s dad dying. Really sorry,” Nikki said.
“Yeah, sorry,” Mac and Penny echoed.
Tara nodded. She wasn’t going to talk about the kidnapping at all. The less people who knew about it, the better, especially until the police arrested whoever it was who killed Floy Nettles.
