Marked for Murder

by Colleen Helme

  “I know,” Savannah agreed. “But it must have something to do with what happened today. Why didn’t you call and tell me about it? I had to hear it from Grandma.”

  Oops. I knew I should have called her, along with Holly and everyone else. “I’m sorry, sweetie. There was just so much going on, but you’re right, I should have called you.”

  “So tell me what happened. I only got the short version from Grandma.”

  Since I was famished, I grabbed a cookie and sat down at the table. In between bites, I told her the whole story, including the reason I’d gone to help Billie in the first place.

  “Wow. If you hadn’t been there, they’d probably all be dead.” She was thinking that if anyone doubted my premonitions before, they’d be convinced now. “That makes you a hero.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. It’s more like I was in the right place at the right time. But I’m a little worried about the press coverage. I’m sure there’s going to be a story in the paper tomorrow, which might include pictures. And, as I left, a Channel 2 news reporter cornered me, and I had to make a statement. It’s probably already been on TV.”

  “Oh my gosh!” she squealed. “You’re like a celebrity. We’ll have to be sure and watch the news tonight. They’ll probably play it again.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed, not sharing her enthusiasm.

  “Mom?” Savannah wondered why I was so down. “You should be happy. You saved people’s lives. That’s a big deal.”

  “Oh… I know… it’s just a lot to take in.” My phone buzzed with an incoming call. It said “private number,” so I told Savannah I’d better take the call. “Hello?”

  “Is this Shelby Nichols?” The deep voice had a British accent, and didn’t sound familiar.

  “Uh… yes.”

  “Good,” he answered. “My name is John Brown, and I’d like to hire you. I saw your interview on the news, and I think you’re just the person I need for a job. I hope you’re not too busy. This is time-sensitive, but it shouldn’t take long. Because of that, I’m happy to pay double your rate, whatever it may be.”

  “Oh… uh… sure. I’ve got a lot on my plate at the moment, but I could probably schedule an appointment for a short consultation tomorrow. Will that work?”

  “Excellent. May I ask you a quick question?” Before I could answer he continued, “I saw your interview on the news earlier. In it, you said you have premonitions. I’m just wondering how it works. Did you know there would be a shooting at the newspaper before you arrived?”

  His question took me off-guard, and I answered truthfully. “Uh… no.”

  “Then how soon before the incident did you know it would happen?”

  “Not long.”

  “So your premonitions only work if you’re involved? Hypothetically speaking, let’s say that a plane will crash tomorrow. Would you know about that in time to stop it?”

  This line of questioning sent a wave of unease over me. “No. I’m afraid not.”

  “Interesting,” he said. “I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable. I’m just trying to get a feel for what you do. I hope you understand. What time shall we meet tomorrow?”

  A sudden foreboding caught in my throat. Did I really want to meet up with this guy? “Your name is John Brown, is that right?”

  “Yes. I’m a real estate accountant for JB Sizemore Consulting. Perhaps you’ve heard of us? Our offices are downtown, not far from the city center mall.”

  “Oh… yes. That sounds familiar.” Although I’d never heard of the company, it helped to know that he had an office and a job. Plus, meeting him in person would clear up any qualms I might have, since I’d know his real motivations for hiring me. Still, I felt a little bit railroaded into it, but that didn’t mean I had to take the job. “I can probably make it to your office sometime tomorrow morning.”

  “Excellent. Shall we say eleven? I’ll text you my address and office number.”

  “Okay. That should work.”

  “Very well. Until tomorrow then.” He disconnected. A few seconds later, my phone jingled with his text message giving me his address.

  That settled, I checked the time, finding that I should probably get dinner started. With Savannah’s input, we decided to grill some burgers, and I got them out of the freezer.

  Josh came home from his lifeguard shift at the country club. This was his second week on the job, and he’d insisted on riding his bike there and back. I noticed that his eyes sparkled with accomplishment at his newfound independence, and I picked up that he looked forward to getting his first real paycheck.

  When had he grown up? At fifteen, his voice still cracked occasionally, but it had dropped to a lower, manlier, register. As he told me about his day, I noticed some hair growing along his jaw and above his upper lip. Oh my gosh! He was getting facial hair! My breath caught with emotion. My baby was growing up right before my eyes.

  “Mom? Did you hear anything I just said?”

  “Uh… yeah. Of course.” I blinked back the sudden moisture in my eyes and listened real hard to his thoughts.

  “So… what happened?” he asked.

  I picked up that he was asking about the shooting. “Oh, right.” Nodding, I began telling him the same version of the story that I’d told Savannah. He basically thought the same thing as she did, namely, that I was a hero. Then I picked up that he was glad I had premonitions, otherwise I’d be dead.

  “Way to go, Ma.” He gave me a one-armed hug, which didn’t last quite long enough. “So when’s dinner? I’m starved.”

  “I thought we’d have burgers. Do you want to grill them up?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Chris got home earlier than usual, wrapping me in a warm hug before setting down his briefcase. He noticed the flowers on the table, and his brows drew together. “Who sent those?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. The card says it’s from a secret admirer.”

  He rubbed his fingers through his hair and shook his head, thinking the events of today had given me some unwanted attention, like I was a celebrity or something. He didn’t like it one bit.

  “Hey, it might not be so bad. They’re just flowers, right? They are kind of nice.”

  He studied me, wondering if I was telling him that he should send me flowers once in a while. I smiled and pulled him back into my arms. “I’m glad you’re home. Josh is cooking burgers, so we can eat in a few minutes.”

  “Good deal. Did you talk to Ethan?” he asked, reminding me that I’d never called to tell him one way or the other.

  “Oh… no, he wasn’t there. Did he ever come back to the office?”

  Chris shook his head, thinking we’d just have to wait until tomorrow to confront him.

  “If he shows up,” I said.

  “He will. Don’t worry. We’ll get this figured out.”

  As much as I wanted to believe him, I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be that easy.

  CHAPTER 4

  I pulled myself out of bed the next morning and hurried to the kitchen to tell Chris goodbye before he left for work. I made it just as he opened the door to leave. He paused, giving me a quick kiss before walking out. “I’ll call you about Ethan.”

  “Okay.” As the door closed behind him, I picked up a fleeting thought from his mind. He was hoping I wasn’t too upset with the picture. Huh? I glanced at the kitchen table to see the newspaper, and my stomach dropped.

  The headline read, “Unsung Hero Stops Killing Spree,” with a picture of me standing over a woman. She lay sprawled on the floor with the gun lying beside her.

  My hair was swept to one side of my face, and my lips were parted like I was out of breath. My narrowed eyes held determination and a flash of vehemence that I hardly recognized.

  I stood over the woman with my feet planted firmly in a superhero stance. If I hadn’t known better, I’d think I’d posed for that photo. Holy hell!

  The caption read, “Shelby Nichols, private investigator, and Lori Wilson,
alleged attacker.” I quickly read through the article, and my heart pounded harder with each sentence.

  “In a timely encounter, private investigator, Shelby Nichols, foiled an alleged shooter, Lori Wilson, yesterday at the Triad Center housing the newspaper’s offices, saving countless lives. According to eyewitness reports, Nichols approached Wilson, who had just entered the building, and zapped her with a stun gun. The shock caused Wilson to discharge the gun she was pulling from her jacket, which fired harmlessly into the floor. Wilson then dropped to the ground, where she remained unconscious until police arrived. As they took Wilson away, she yelled expletives at the paper’s editor-in-chief, Michael Lewis-Pierce, who was in the lobby at the time. The motivation for the attack appears to be an article published a few months ago by Lewis-Pierce about Wilson’s husband, who was killed at the hands of a known criminal after the article was released.

  “In response to her quick action, Nichols explained it by stating that she sometimes has a sixth sense, or premonitions, about people around her. She credits this psychic ability as the reason she anticipated Wilson’s intent to start a killing spree. ‘I’ve learned to trust my intuition,’ she said, and stated that she just happened to be in the right place at the right time to thwart this deadly tragedy.

  “According to our records, Nichols is no stranger to these types of incidents. As previously reported by this paper, she has helped the police numerous times, most recently in the apprehension of the escaped murderer, Leo Tedesco, whom she helped capture, and who is now back behind bars. Sixth sense or not, everyone at this newspaper is grateful she was here.”

  I sat back in my chair and closed my eyes. This article made me sound like I was a candidate for the loony bin. I should have just told everyone I saw the gun. It might not have explained how I knew she was going to use it, but that seemed more believable than saying I had a psychic ability.

  But there it was in black and white for the whole world to see. Shelby Nichols has premonitions. Of course, after I’d admitted as much in my interview with Rosie on Channel 2 News, I couldn’t take it back. We’d watched it last night, and I still cringed this morning just thinking about how she’d managed to throw in the premonition part.

  I hoped it didn’t mean that crazy people would start calling me for my psychic services. Who knew what kinds of things they’d ask me to do? My gaze landed on the bouquet of beautiful flowers. Who had sent them and why? I wasn’t sure I liked having a ‘secret admirer.’

  I took a couple of deep breaths to calm down. Getting upset wouldn’t help. Besides, the bouquet could be from someone who’d been there, and this was their way to anonymously thank me. That was probably it. After a few days, people would forget all about me, and that would be the end of it.

  My phone rang with “Here Comes the Bride,” and I let out a breath. At least I knew it was Billie and not some random secret admirer. Hoping she’d made some progress on the case, I answered. “Hey Billie, what’s up?”

  “Did you see the article?” she asked.

  “Yes. It was kind of hard to miss, since it was right there on the front page.”

  “I just love that picture. You look pretty bad-ass.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, I hardly recognized myself.” Wanting to change the subject, I continued, “So, did you get ahold of the social worker who took Claire’s baby?”

  “Yes. Riley’s in a good home and she’s doing fine. I called the precinct and told them to let Claire know.”

  “Good. So how’s the story coming? Did you make some progress?”

  “That’s why I’m calling. I think I might have the answer, but we won’t know for sure until Claire’s relatives are tested. That might take some time, but I was hoping we could get Claire out of jail first. Do you know when her arraignment is?”

  “Uh… no.” Since I’d dropped the ball on that, I quickly continued, “Why don’t I call Chris and find out what’s going on and call you back.”

  “Okay. But don’t forget to call me. Tomorrow was supposed to be my last day on the job. Now I can’t leave until this story is done.”

  I sucked in a breath. “That’s right. You’re getting married Saturday!”

  “I know!” she squealed. “I can hardly believe it.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll call you right back.” We disconnected, and I called Chris’s cell. Unfortunately, it went to voice mail, so I called the office number. Elisa picked up and told me Chris was in a meeting. “Do you know if Ethan is there?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I saw him earlier. Just a minute.” She put me on hold, and my heart soared. He was there. At least something was going right. She came back on. “I guess he’s not here after all. I think he might have gone over to the jail to meet with a client.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. Maybe I can meet up with him there. Just in case I miss him, have him call me when he gets back.” She agreed, and I called Billie. “I think Ethan’s meeting with Claire right now. I’m going to head over there.”

  “That’s great. I’ll need to talk with him too so he can work on her defense. You’ll never believe this, but I think this is a rare case of chimerism. It means Claire could be her own twin. It’s actually been documented in another case similar to hers, but we won’t know for sure until her relatives are tested.”

  “Wow. That sounds weird. You’ll have to explain it to me later. Right now I’ve got to get ready, but I’ll be sure to let Ethan know you found something. In fact, I’ll give him your number so he can call you.”

  “Sounds good.”

  We disconnected, and I rushed to my room to get dressed, grateful I’d taken a shower last night. I threw on a pair of jeans and a cute, white, capped-sleeve shirt with a shimmery gold geometrical pattern on the front. Instead of sandals, I opted to wear my comfortable running shoes. Who knew? I might be chasing after Ethan for most of the day, and I didn’t want to be slowed down by two-inch heels.

  I applied some blush and mascara and brushed my long golden locks into a semblance of order. After waking my kids and getting our schedules for the day organized, I was ready to head out.

  I arrived at the precinct and slipped my lanyard around my neck before walking inside. Instead of going to Dimples’s desk, I took the elevator to the lower level and the holding cells. The officer in charge told me that Claire had been taken to the courthouse for her arraignment. “If you hurry, you can probably make it.”

  I rushed outside and across the street to the courthouse. Since I’d recently been to the courthouse where they held the arraignments, I knew right where to go. Stepping inside the courtroom, I quietly took a seat in the back and searched for Ethan.

  The prisoner standing in front of the judge was denied bail and sent back to the holding cells. They soon brought another prisoner forward, and I recognized Claire’s slight figure and blond ponytail. Was Ethan here? Where was he?

  Ready to defend her myself, I relaxed as Ethan stood before the judge. He entered the plea of not guilty and asked for Claire to be released on her own recognizance. He argued that she’d never been arrested before, and assured the court that she was not a flight risk. With her baby held by child services, she was determined to get this resolved so she and the baby could be reunited.

  I thought he made a good argument. The judge took in Claire’s young, frightened face, and decided jail was no place for her. With a tap of his gavel, he released her from custody, admonishing her that she needed to make sure she appeared at every court hearing if she wanted to stay out of jail.

  She quickly agreed, and it was over. I made my way toward them, hoping to reach her before the officer took her away. She turned to Ethan and asked him what would happen next.

  The officer stepped forward to take her back, but Ethan requested a short visit with Claire first. As they followed the officer to a consultation room, I made it to Ethan’s side. Claire caught sight of me and smiled. “Shelby! Did you hear they’re releasing me?”

  “Yes. That’s great news.” I glance
d at Ethan with raised brows.

  “Uh… hi Mrs. Nichols.” Ethan’s face flushed with guilt.

  “I’d like to join you. I have some information you both need to know.”

  “Sure.” He nodded, but didn’t quite meet my gaze. Inside the room, he closed the door and motioned toward the chairs. We sat down at the desk while the officer waited just outside the door.

  “Let me explain how this works,” Ethan began. “They’ll take you back to the holding cell at the precinct where you’ll be processed out. You’ll be given back your clothes and other personal items. Do you have someone who can come and get you?”

  “Yes. I spoke with my mom yesterday. I’m sure she’ll come.”

  “Good. It might take a few hours before you’re released, but you’ll be out today.” At her nod, he glanced my way. “What did you find out?”

  “Billie’s pretty sure she’s figured out what’s going on with the DNA. She called it something like chimerism… yeah… I think that’s it. But it means that Claire could be her own twin. Apparently, there was another case a lot like this one, and they figured out how the DNA came back different. I guess it’s pretty rare, but it answers the DNA question satisfactorily.”

  “How do you prove it?”

  “Billie said you needed to get DNA samples from Claire’s relatives. I have Billie’s number. You should call her. She can explain it better than me, and she’ll be happy to tell you what to do next.”

  “Okay.”

  I found Billie’s contact information in my phone, and he wrote it down. Then he pulled his business card out of his wallet and handed it to Claire. “I’ll get started on this right away. Why don’t you give me a call tomorrow, and we’ll meet at my office?”

  “Great,” Claire said, taking the card. “Thanks so much. Both of you.” She had hope for the first time that this was the answer, even if it sounded weird. How could she be her own twin? It didn’t make sense, but she’d believe it if it meant getting Riley back.

  We opened the door, and the officer took Claire back to the holding cells. I walked to the exit with Ethan, picking up his discomfort to be with me. He needed to come clean, and guilt about what he’d set in motion swamped him.