Marked for Murder

by Colleen Helme

  She was telling me the truth. She was definitely the baby’s mother. So why was the test wrong?

  “I believe you, Claire. I don’t know what’s going on with the test, but I believe you’re telling the truth. It might take some time to figure this all out, but we’ll do it, okay?”

  Tears of relief sprang into Claire’s eyes. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  Billie sent me a grateful nod, knowing it had to be true if I believed her.

  “What do we do now?” Claire asked.

  “I hate to say this,” I responded. “But if it comes down to it, you might have to let social services take Riley for a few days until we can figure it out, but we will.”

  “No, I can’t do that. There’s got to be another way.”

  Billie had an idea that sent alarm spiking through my chest. I glanced at her and shook my head. “Billie, don’t.”

  Her brows rose, but she pursed her lips with determination and turned to Claire. “I’ll hold them off until we can prove it.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll put you up for a few days. If they can’t find you, they can’t take Riley.”

  “Billie,” I said. “You could get arrested for that.”

  “Not if they don’t find out. Don’t worry. She won’t be staying at my place.” Billie turned to Claire. “There’s a motel not far from here. You can stay there until we get this sorted out. I’ll pay for your stay.”

  A knock sounded at the door, and we all jumped. The handle turned, and a man poked his head inside. I picked up from Billie that he was her co-worker, Ben, and he wasn’t happy. He took in the scene, and his brows drew together. “Billie, there’s a social worker and a police officer downstairs looking for Claire Hadley.” His gaze traveled to Claire. “Is that you?”

  Before she could answer, Billie spoke. “Stall them for me.” She turned to Claire. “Come on. Let’s go out the back. The motel’s just a block away.”

  “Billie. No,” Ben said. “I can’t do that, not even for you.”

  Billie wasn’t about to let that stop her. As she brushed by him with Claire and the baby in tow, he called out, “They know she’s here.”

  Ignoring him, Billie continued out of the newsroom and into the hall. She passed the bank of elevators and rushed to the stairwell. As she opened the door, the elevators opened. A police officer and a heavy-set woman stepped out.

  They caught sight of Claire before she disappeared through the doorway and ran toward her. Billie firmly closed the door and stepped in front of it, blocking their way.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” the woman asked.

  “Oh… did you want to use the stairs?”

  “Get out of my way.”

  Billie stood her ground, so the woman continued. “You’re interfering with an ongoing investigation.”

  “I am?” Billie asked. “Maybe you should take the elevator? I’m sure it’s faster.”

  The woman turned to the officer. “Arrest this woman for obstruction of justice.”

  “What? No.” I jumped to Billie’s side and grabbed her arm, tugging her away from the door. “You don’t have to arrest her. She’s not in the way now.”

  The officer didn’t want to arrest anyone, let alone a news reporter. The chief would hate the bad press.

  The woman shook her head, thinking we should both be arrested. She turned to the officer to tell him that, but before she could get the words out, he dashed to the door and pulled it open. “I’ll get her,” he said, then hurried down the stairs.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake!” the woman said. She set her steely-eyed gaze on Billie and shook her index finger. “This is all your fault. I’m going to file a complaint. You won’t get away with this.”

  With pursed lips, she pulled the door open and hurried down the stairs after them. Before the door closed behind her, we heard the wail of a baby, and the echo of stomping feet.

  Billie glanced my way. “Let’s take the elevator. We might still beat them.” We pushed the call button and jumped inside. The doors swished shut, and Billie stabbed the button for the lobby.

  I picked up that Billie was still hoping to whisk Claire and the baby away. Alarmed at her single-mindedness, I caught her gaze. “Billie, this is crazy. You can’t interfere. You’ll get arrested.”

  That didn’t seem to faze her, so I continued. “What about Dimples? You’re getting married in a few days. This would ruin your wedding.” She let out a groan of defeat, knowing I was right, but hating it. “It’s okay,” I continued. “We can still help Claire, just not like this.”

  The doors opened, and Billie burst out, running toward the staircase. I followed, but there was no sign of Claire or the officer and social worker. Billie pulled the door open, and sounds of echoing footsteps came from above.

  Claire came into view, with the officer beside her, holding her by the elbow. To Billie, it looked like he’d caught her in a tight grip but, in reality, he was helping her down the stairs because he didn’t want her to fall with the baby in her arms. He felt bad for Claire, thinking that this was one of those times he hated his job.

  Filled with disappointment, Billie held the door open for them, then glanced upward for the social worker. Since she lagged behind, Billie let the door shut and hurried to Claire’s side.

  “Don’t worry, Claire,” Billie said. “We’ll find out what went wrong and fix this, I promise.”

  Inconsolable, Claire could only nod while tears poured down her cheeks.

  The social worker came through the door huffing and red-faced. She caught sight of Billie and took a breath to scold her, then had second thoughts. Claire’s tears touched a soft spot in her heart and she frowned, then hardened her jaw and reached for the baby.

  “No,” Claire said. “She’s my baby.”

  The social worker pursed her lips, hating this side of her job, but she had no choice. Before she could reach to take the baby away by force, the officer intervened. “Why don’t you let her hold the baby until we get to the car? We’ll have to put the baby in a car seat anyway, so what’s the harm?”

  He was thinking that the lobby of a newsroom was no place to make a scene. Sure he was supposed to arrest the woman, but she wasn’t in any shape to resist, and getting her to the police station in cuffs wasn’t necessary.

  “It’s Claire, right?” he asked. She nodded and he smiled. “Everything’s going to be fine. No one’s going to hurt the baby, all right?”

  Claire turned her pleading gaze to Billie.

  “You have to go,” Billie said. “But we’ll figure this out. I promise.” Resigned, Claire hugged Riley to her chest and stepped toward the exit.

  On impulse, Billie turned to me. “Do you think you could get Chris to take her case? I’ll help pay his fees.”

  I raised my brows, knowing that Billie had no idea how much that would cost. I knew it was way above her pay grade, but what could I say? “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks, Shelby.” Billie caught up with Claire at the exit. “I’m getting you a lawyer. It’s Shelby’s husband.” She motioned toward me as I came to her side.

  Claire’s eyes brightened with hope. “Okay. Thanks. Thanks so much.” She swallowed her distress and stepped out of the building with the officer and social worker.

  Through the glass walls, we watched the social worker take the baby while Claire got in the police car. Hearing the baby’s crying tore at my heartstrings, and I hated that this was happening. Sure I knew that Claire was her mother, but how did that compete with a DNA test?

  Billie had the same struggle, so she focused on the next step to get Claire out of jail. She thought that, with Chris’s help, it shouldn’t be too hard. While Claire got the legal help she needed, Billie would have time to investigate the whole DNA fiasco.

  Then she thought about how crazy all this sounded; the mother that DNA said wasn’t the mother. Stuff like this was unheard of… but… wasn’t that what made a good story? And here she was, right
in the middle of it. Her mind cleared, and her heart filled with excitement. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all? From a personal interest point of view, this story could be epic.

  She’d have to work quickly to get to the bottom of it before the wedding. But she’d learned that, most of the time, there was a reasonable explanation for everything. She just had to dig deep enough to find it.

  She glanced at me, wondering why I wasn’t calling Chris. I quickly pulled the phone from my purse and placed the call. Since I had no idea what Chris’s schedule was like today, I called his cell number and waited for him to pick up. After several rings, he finally answered. “Hey there,” he said. “What’s up?”

  “Hi honey. Hey… I’m at the newspaper with Billie. She’s helping someone who just got arrested and needs a lawyer. Can you help us out?”

  “What happened?”

  I explained the story as succinctly as possible, but when I got to the DNA part, Chris jumped in. “Wait. The DNA shows she’s not the mom? That’s not good. As an attorney, I have to tell you that it’s a losing battle to fight DNA evidence. I’m not sure we can take the case.”

  “But she is the mother, I’m sure of it.”

  He sighed before answering. “Okay. I’ll send Ethan over to represent her… for now. What’s her name again?”

  “Claire Hadley.”

  “Okay. Got it.”

  “Thanks Chris.” We said our goodbyes and disconnected. Glancing at Billie, I repeated what Chris had told me about the DNA. “This is just weird. I know she’s the mother. Maybe we need to get a different lab to run the test again?”

  Billie shook her head. “Maybe, but it has to be something else.”

  “Like what? Aliens?”

  Billie grimaced, but I knew she’d considered aliens since I’d picked it up from her mind. “Yeah… right,” she said, smiling at the joke. “I guess I’d better get to work.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but a distinguished looking man I didn’t know stepped to Billie’s side. He wore a blue dress shirt and charcoal slacks. His dark hair had streaks of gray on the sides, and silver, wire-rimmed glasses sat on his nose. “Payne… what’s this I hear about resisting arrest? You almost gave Ben apoplexy.”

  Billie’s eyes widened, alarmed that he knew, and I picked up that this was the editor-in-chief of the newspaper. “Uh… just a story I’m wrapping up. Shelby’s helping me. Have you ever met?”

  He glanced my way, and she continued. “Shelby, this is Michael Lewis-Pierce, our editor-in-chief. And this is Shelby Nichols. She consults for the police and has her own P.I. business.”

  “Hi,” I said, smiling. “Nice to meet you.”

  We shook hands, and the muscles around his eyes tightened. “I’ve heard of you. Aren’t you that psychic? You’ve helped Billie out a few times, haven’t you?” He was thinking that I was something of an enigma, mostly because I hadn’t wanted a lot of attention in Billie’s stories.

  “Uh… yeah. That’s me.”

  He smiled, thinking that it could make an interesting piece to follow me around for a few days. He was sure Billie was up to the task. He’d have to pitch it to her and see what she thought. Even if I wasn’t the real deal, a special interest story like that could sell a lot of print, especially if it got picked up by the big syndicates.

  “Billie’s helping a single mom,” I said, wanting to get his mind off me. “It’s a crazy story, right Billie?”

  “Uh-huh.” She hadn’t wanted to tell him about it since he might not approve, especially the part about hiring Chris’s law firm, but she could leave that part out for now.

  I tried not to smile while Billie explained what was going on. I caught that Michael was on his way to lunch, but Billie’s story fascinated him. Since we stood in the lobby, lots of people passed us on their way to lunch. In the rush, I noticed a woman who’d come inside.

  She stopped to focus on our little group, and I caught her staring at Billie and Michael. She wore jeans and a deep-pocketed coat that seemed too warm for an early summer day. Her stringy, dark hair looked unwashed, and she wore no make-up, but her eyes held an unhinged intensity that caught my breath. I listened to her thoughts and picked up word fragments that hardly made sense.

  The whispering voices chilled me to the bone, reminding me of something dark and sinister, like how I imagined a deranged mind would sound. But, under all that noise, it wasn’t hard to pick up the anger driving her.

  Then I caught the words of the loudest voice: it’s him, right there in front of you, now’s your chance—kill him—kill them all, you have the gun—do it.

  My blood turned cold. What the freak? A shooter? Right here in the lobby? What should I do? Should I rush her? Yell “shooter?”

  With my heart racing, I slipped my hand into my purse and wrapped my fingers around my stun flashlight. Knowing I had only moments to act, I pulled it out and stepped away from Billie and Michael into a group of people exiting the building.

  With her attention still focused on Michael, I managed to get closer, coming at her from a side angle. As hate flooded her mind, she pulled the gun from her pocket. I rushed toward her, plunged the stun part of my flashlight against the side of her neck, and pushed the button.

  One million volts of attack-stopping power slammed into her, and she jerked with spasms and choking gasps. The gun went off, sending a loud echo through the lobby. Then she slid to the ground in a heap, and the gun fell from her hand, clattering to the floor. I cringed, but luckily, it didn’t go off a second time.

  A space cleared around us, and people started screaming about the gunfire. Amid cries of panic, one guy glanced my way thinking I’d shot her, and his eyes rounded with horror. I held up my stun flashlight and he ducked, screaming a little.

  “It’s a flashlight,” I said, hoping to calm him.

  “Drop it!”

  To my left, the security guard held a gun on me. His breath came fast, and he was thinking he’d pull the trigger if I moved a muscle. My breath caught, and I slowly raised both of my hands in the air. “Don’t shoot me! I’m unarmed!”

  “Put the gun away,” Michael said to the guard. He hurried to my side. “Shelby’s not the shooter. It’s the person on the ground.”

  It took a few seconds before comprehension entered the guard’s mind, shortening my life span by about three years. He lowered his gun and hurried toward the woman on the ground. As she came to, he pulled her arms behind her back and slipped cuffs around her wrists.

  Billie joined us, along with several people who had witnessed the event, taking up the space around us.

  “Is anyone hurt?” Michael asked, glancing around the room.

  “I think the bullet hit the floor,” Billie said, pointing to the damage. She got down on her knees and examined it more closely. “Yeah. It’s lodged in there.”

  Michael exhaled with relief. “Did anyone call nine-one-one?” Someone answered in the affirmative, and Michael nodded. He thought about picking up the gun, but he didn’t want his fingerprints on it. “Give us some room, please.” He motioned for everyone to step back.

  Sending a glance my way, he thought I’d probably saved his life. After I’d stepped away from him and Billie, he’d noticed me walking toward the woman. Glancing at her, it only took a fraction of a second to see the deranged look on her face and realize that she was staring right at him.

  After that, everything had happened so fast it made his head spin. Somehow, I knew her plans ahead of time. I’d saved him and probably many others. How did I know? It had to mean that my premonitions were real. Yeah… that was the only thing that made sense.

  He wondered how my premonitions worked. Did they come in a vision, like seeing the future? Or was it just a feeling that I’d learned to act on? With all the people standing around, now wasn’t a good time to ask, but he was determined to find out.

  “How did you know she had a gun?” the guard asked, not having the same problem as Michael.

  I shrugged.
“Something about her seemed off.”

  He didn’t buy it. Without evidence of a gun, zapping her like that was taking a big chance. I must have seen it, or I was in on it. While he pondered that, a police car with sirens blazing pulled in front of the building.

  Two police officers rushed inside. Spotting our little group, they quickly took charge. By now, the woman had regained consciousness, and she began to spout expletives and jerk at her bound wrists.

  One of the officers stood guard over her, while the other bagged the gun. Several more cars pulled up, and I wasn’t surprised to find Dimples running into the building. He caught sight of Billie and rushed to her side, pulling her into a quick hug.

  “Are you okay?” He stood back to look for signs of blood.

  “I’m fine. Just a little shaken.”

  Dimples glanced my way, relieved to find me unscathed as well. “What happened?”

  He’d asked me, but Billie answered. “She had a gun, and Shelby zapped her. It went off when she fell.” Billie turned her gaze to me. “Was she going to shoot me?”

  “Uh… I think she had her sights set mostly on Michael, but she wasn’t going to stop there. Do either of you know who she is?”

  They both turned to look at her more closely. With her hair covering her face, it wasn’t obvious, but something clicked with Michael, and he drew in a breath. Instead of voicing her name, he just shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  By now, the officers had the woman standing and held her arms tightly to keep her steady. She’d quit swearing and swayed in a stupor. I caught her wondering what the hell happened. One minute she was getting ready to shoot, and the next, she was lying on the floor.

  Glancing up, she saw Michael staring at her. Sudden anger caught her breath, and her face turned red. Michael was supposed to be dead, along with everyone who worked for him. Her perfect chance to kill him before turning the gun on herself was ruined. Now look at her… at him… this had all gone wrong.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, like she could make it all go away, thinking she’d just pretend he was dead. She’d done it. Now the voices in her head would finally stop. One of the officers asked for her name, and she jerked away from him.