Psychic Series Boxset: Books 1-3

by Lisa Freed

  “Teresa,” Sandy called from the front desk.

  Instead of returning her greeting, I blurted out, “What happened?”

  Sandy and Parker exchanged glances, their smiles gone.

  “We didn’t want to ruin your vacation,” Parker said, her nose turning red as tears formed in her blue eyes. “It’s old Zeke, he died.”

  My happy mood popped, and my face crumbled as I began to cry like a baby. Old Zeke, at twenty-two, was the oldest resident at Whisker Kisses but he had seemed like a much younger cat with his voracious appetite, and still rabbit-like hind feet that would take him in a single bound from the floor to one of the beds. How could he be gone?

  Sandy came over, wrapping her arms around me. Parker joined the group hug and I could feel how much they had loved him too as our combined sorrow lingered in the air like a dark cloud.

  “He was so old, and he went in his sleep,” Sandy got out between sobs. “He was curled up in one of the cat beds.”

  “How are the others?” I asked, pulling away and going to the desk to grab several tissues to scrub at my face and blow my nose with.

  “They’re sad. They miss him too,” Piper said, wiping at her own tears with her sleeve.

  “I need to go see them.” I tossed my used tissues into the trashcan next to the desk. “Zeke was cremated?”

  “Yes,” Sandy confirmed. “We should get him back this week.”

  I nodded then headed off in search of the other resident cats. Many of them gave me the cold shoulder, including Manny, our resident orange cat, and lap snuggler extraordinaire. That hurt.

  Then my heart squeezed into a little ball, there in his familiar patch of sunlight was Old Zeke. Glancing about to make certain nobody else was around first, I crouched down next to him once I knew the coast was clear. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you passed. You were an amazing old man. We all love you. But you know that, don’t you? That’s why you’re still here. Zeke, you can go over the rainbow bridge, we’ll see you again when it’s our time.”

  He lifted his large head, blinking his yellow-gold eyes at me and yawned. Then his head swiveled as Pumpkin, a blind Manx cat, came over. First, she meowed at me then her unseeing eyes went directly to Zeke and she meowed at him.

  That’s when it hit me. “You’re not staying for you, you’re staying for your friends, aren’t you? You are such a good boy.” I felt tears flooding my eyes again and the urge to stroke his head just one more time pulled at me.

  Pumpkin stepped daintily into my lap, her purrs vibrating her entire body. Zeke squeezed his eyes closed then lowered his head, appearing to go back to sleep. I sat with Pumpkin in my lap, rubbing her soft, gleaming fur and soaking up her sweet contentment. After several minutes, she got up, her job of comforting me done.

  Slowly I got to my feet and saw Zeke was no longer there but I knew he was around. I went back to the front desk and Sandy passed me the tissue box. “Hard not seeing him, isn’t it?”

  Dabbing at my leaking eyes I just nodded. We stood in silence for a few minutes then I returned the tissue box. “If nothing needs my immediate attention, I think I’m going to head home.”

  “Absolutely. See, this is why we didn’t want to tell you over the phone, while you were thousands of miles away.”

  “Thank you.”

  As I went to leave Sandy stopped me. “Only thing is when can I put you back into the overnight rotation?”

  That gave me pause. I never wanted the rescue to be empty at night so usually, we had a volunteer spend the night in the guest room. We had a revolving rotation, with most of the volunteers preferring the same night every week. But life gets busy and things come up, so it was good to have backups in place just in case.

  “Put me down for Friday through Monday as a backup. I’ll take my usual Wednesday night too.”

  “So, today?”

  My mouth opened and closed before I squeaked out, “It’s Wednesday?”

  Sandy laughed. “Go home, T! And go back to bed.”

  Shaking my head, I left and followed her advice, going straight to bed when I got home. All three cats joined me on the bed and together we had a delightful two- and half-hour snooze.

  Waking up, I felt sluggish and my tongue like a freeze-dried piece of meat. Yuck! I went downstairs in search of some OJ or soda, I needed a jolt of something to get me feeling human again.

  Helen, my twice weekly house cleaner, was humming to herself as she wiped down the counters. The dishwasher was running masking the noise of my approach because poor Helen jumped when she turned and found me rooting in the fridge.

  “Teresa! I didn’t realize you were back. You didn’t call me,” her voice held a trace of annoyance as she tossed the damp dishcloth into her bin of dirty laundry.

  “Sorry, Helen, my mind’s been shot since returning. Can’t seem to kick this jet lag. I didn’t even realize today was Wednesday.”

  “I’ve heard the best thing for that is to force yourself to get back on your time zone. You might want to sleep until three in the afternoon, but you need to get up at eight in the morning. You have to fight your new body clock that’s telling you it’s still the middle of the night.”

  She plucked the carton of OJ from my hands, got a glass out, and poured me a healthy amount before returning the juice to the fridge. All that had happened so fast I didn’t have time to protest.

  “That might be part of it. I keep dozing off when I sit or lay down.” I said, then sipped at my juice.

  “Nope, you got to push on.” She gave me a look I couldn’t interpret. “John did great while you were gone. The only issue is the cats tricked him into overfeeding them.”

  I drained the last of my juice and had the glass plucked from my hand. Helen rinsed the pulp out of it then set it aside to be placed in the dishwasher. “How can you tell?” I asked.

  Helen leaned closer. “The litterboxes never lie,” she imparted in a low whisper before pulling back and roaring with laughter. Once she got her mirth under control, she wiped her hands on the blue smock she wore while cleaning. “Okay, I’m finishing up here, be back on Saturday.”

  I looked around at the spotless kitchen. “Let’s skip it this week and go back on schedule next.”

  “You’re the boss. Oh, and you need more litter.”

  “Thanks, Helen.” I left her to finish up her work and decided to go out in search of lunch. Briefly, I thought about calling John but quickly dismissed it. He would call when he was ready. I just hoped it was soon. I hated my best friend not talking to me. And that’s what he was when I thought about it. Who else did I confide in, hang out with, or laugh so much with? John might be a goober, but he was my goober.

  John had just treated me to a Wawa sub two days earlier but nothing else sounded good so I went with it. I picked it up and then went to the boardwalk. Despite the lovely weather, it was mostly deserted this time of year during the week.

  It was in the seventies; a slight breeze blew in off the water and with the sun high overhead it was completely gorgeous. I flipped one of the bench backs to face the beach and sat down to eat my sub while looking out at the rolling ocean. Seagulls flew noisily overhead, but none were brave enough to swoop down and try to steal my lunch.

  It was probably a good hour before I stood up to leave. I felt renewed, my spirit light and at peace.

  When I arrived home, there was a half-wilted, long-stemmed, yellow rose taped to my door along with a simple note.

  The word, Friends? Along with a smiley face sticking their tongue out.

  More like goobers forever. I didn’t have any vases so I stuck the flower in a faded green water bottle whose lid I had lost.

  It was time to get my life back on track.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Curled up on the couch, the remains of a feast of Chinese delivery spread out on the table in front of me and a thrilling book in my hands rounded out my day. The book was a newer one by one of my favorite authors and I couldn’t wait to dig in.


  Agnes was wedged between the back of the couch and me, on her back with her four paws stuck up in the air. I loved when she did that because I could stroke the silky fur on her tummy and she was cool with it. If I tried that while she was awake, I might pull my hand back full of tiny teeth marks.

  The loud dinging of the doorbell ruined my peace and my attention went between the door and the slumbering kitty next to me. I hated to disturb her. But when it rang a second then a third time in fast succession, I knew I had no choice.

  Carefully, I slid away from Anges and then off the couch. She remained in her upright pose for a moment before tipping over. Her eyes opened in comical surprise, then she blinked and curled herself into a ball, her eyes reclosing.

  With my index finger between the pages of my book to hold my place, I padded barefoot to the front door. My hand was on the latch unlocking it when the doorbell chimed again. “Hold your horses,” I muttered.

  When the door swung open, a tall, dark stranger stood there, smiling at me.

  I had expected a delivery driver or a neighbor. How else could someone get into the gated community?

  “Teresa,” his voice purred in a deep, lightly accented voice that sent shivers down my spine, in a good way.

  “Yes, can I help you?” I asked through my senses where going crazy. The guy might as well have a flashing red warning sign on his forehead. Something was majorly up with him.

  His dark eyes slid over me with a familiarity I didn’t care for. Then a smile moved across his face, unleashing a dimple in his lean, right cheek that disarmed me.

  An answering smile spread my lips and I was on the verge of offering him a drink when laughter began pouring out of him.

  “Teresa, be a love and let me in.” He didn’t wait, instead, his strong, warm hands grasped ahold of my upper arms, moving me aside enough so that he had room to enter.

  Out of a complete stranger this behavior would be bizarre and warrant a shout for help and some shin kicking action, but at his touch, a hot sizzle had raced through me- Victor.

  I closed the door then turned, my back against it, to appraise the man standing in my hallway. He was tall, easily six feet two, baby smooth face with a charming smile that showed off that adorable dimple and bright, white teeth. Dark brown eyes regarded me from under well-defined brows. His equally dark hair was short and pushed back from his face.

  “An improvement over the last one, yes?” he asked, spreading his arms out to better display a lean body draped in expensive black clothes.

  “Victor, who is this? And what happened to the other guy? He’s dead.”

  Instead of answering me, Victor strolled off into the kitchen helping himself to a bottle of water from the fridge.

  I followed after him determined to have my answers.

  After a gulp that emptied half the bottle, he came to me, his fingers cupping my chin between his thumb and index finger. His cologne wafted up to my nose, a deep, smoky fragrance.

  “This is my destiny. What I went to Greece for.” He smiled, his thumb rubbed against my lower lip before he withdrew his hand.

  “Your destiny?” My mind tried to make sense of that phrase. “Why did you go to Greece, I thought it was because you wanted to make peace with your brother?”

  Without answering, he headed into the living room. I saw him frown down at the mess of empty white and red Chinese takeout containers. He sat down on the couch, crossing his long legs and bringing my attention to the shiny black shoes on his large feet.

  “Come, sit. I want to tell you everything.” One of his hands patted the space next to him and I caught a flash of gold and the wink of a red stone on his finger.

  “I’ll stand. Get on with it,” I ordered, crossing my arms to show him I meant business.

  He shrugged, his hand dropping into his lap. “I did speak with my brother and his wife…”

  “Really? I...” I interrupted him then stopped myself. I had been about to mention Mateo not seeing Victor going there but bit my tongue. There was no need for him to know about my Greek spy.

  “Yes, we had a lovely family dinner,” he chuckled, a wicked gleam in his dark eyes.

  “Victor, please, just tell me what you’ve done!”

  He held his long arms out, a cheery smile making his already handsome face downright gorgeous. “I got my life back! For us.” He stood, coming over to where I stood and taking my limp, cool hands in his warm ones. “We both want a life together and now we can have it.”

  I tried to tug my hands away but he held them fast. “No, not like this,” I said, a catch in my voice.

  “Why?”

  “Tell me whose body you took, Victor.” My eyes stared straight into his.

  “That’s the best part, my own flesh and blood. It is perfect.”

  I couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped my lips. “You have a son? You would do this to your own child?”

  A frown pulled his mouth down. “Teresa, I died almost forty years ago, this body is twenty-eight, he is not my son. He is Andre and Brianna’s son.”

  “Your nephew? Victor, no, no. This is beyond wrong. This man is innocent of your brother’s crimes.” I pulled my hands closer and since his were still holding them they came with mine. I rotated my hands until his were now between mine and gripped them securely. “Please, Victor, if this is what you wanted, why not take your brother instead?”

  “My brother? He’s a man of seventy. Why would I want his old, used up body when I could have this young and strong one?” He came closer, his hands reversing so that his fingers once more covered mine. His breath warmed my neck as his mouth grazed it in a soft kiss before he moved up to whisper in my ear. “Even better, this breaks my brother as taking his money or his life never could. His only son, the perfect revenge.”

  “Victor, no,” I moaned out, tremors shaking my body. “You need to release him, please. Take over your brother and push Brianna off a cliff or something.”

  “That’s hilarious, Teresa! I never would have thought you would come up with something so wicked. So, my brother spends the rest of his life in jail for a crime I committed? No, that won’t break him, but this will.” He released me and went back over to the table where he had set his water down.

  “Besides, I can’t give Adrian his body back,” he said it without looking at me and then polished off his water.

  “Why not?”

  Still not facing me, Victor spoke in a lower tone than earlier. “When I leave it, he doesn’t return. This body will die without someone inhabiting it.”

  I walked over to stand in front of him, forcing him to look at me. “What do you mean Adrian doesn’t return?”

  His wide, powerful shoulders rolled within the confines of the well-tailored black button-down shirt he wore. “Just what I said. I leave, and the body begins to heave and gasp for air. I don’t know why he’s not jumping back to consciousness. Everyone else has when I pull out of their body.”

  My hands pulled at the skin of my cheeks, my mind raced. “Victor, what have you done?” I could feel panic pulling at me. “We have to get him back,” I cried out.

  “No, we don’t.” A bit of his earlier charismatic smile returned. “Teresa, I know you’re not happy about everything, but we can make this work.”

  “No, we can’t. Victor, we’ve been through some wild things together, but this is murder. I can’t be a part of this.” My hands cupped the opposite elbow and I began backing away from him.

  Victor’s right hand snapped out, grabbing my arm. “I thought you would help me,” he said through a forced smile of gritted teeth. “I’ve always helped you.”

  My head nodded even as I fought to get away. “Yes, you have but this is wrong.” My fingers went to his hand and I tried to pry his fingers off my arm.

  “Teresa, please, give it some time. In a few days, you’ll get used to this…”

  I cut him off, shoving at his chest. “Victor, you need to leave now.” I managed to pry his hand completely
off me and march over to the door, opening it for him.

  His face had hardened, the good looks merely pretty wrapping for the darkness within. “I’ll need some money,” he said harshly. “Adrian didn’t have as much as I was counting on.”

  A frustrated scream rushed up my throat, but I held it in. Going into the kitchen I grabbed my wallet out of my purse and took all the money I had within it out to him. I shoved it at him and his hand clenched over it.

  He looked down at the handful of twenties and his mouth quirked into a half-smile. “Teresa, really? We both know what you’re worth. Go write me a check.”

  My eyes narrowed. “I don’t owe you anything,” I snapped. Still, I went and got my checkbook from the drawer in the kitchen’s desk. I scribbled an amount and my name leaving the space for payee blank. He could fill that in with whatever name he was using. Stomping back, I thrust it at him. “This is for Adrian. Make this right or don’t come back.”

  His dark eyes went down, then flashed back up. “I’ll call you,” he said before grabbing me and planting a hard kiss onto my mouth.

  Then he was gone.

  EPILOGUE

  As Victor left Teresa’s house, he tucked her check into his right front pants pocket. Approaching his rental BMW, a slight rustling alerted him to movement from behind. He glanced over his shoulder, unconcerned.

  He had been expecting to see Teresa, instead, a man almost his own height with a shock of thick, black hair emerged from where he had been standing near the privacy fence that separated Teresa’s yard from her neighbor’s.

  “Victor,” the man spoke his name in Greek.

  He answered him in the same language. “Who are you?”

  “That’s not important. What is, is that we can help each other. The family fortune you were robbed of? It can be ours, split evenly.”

  “Why split, when it’s already going to be mine?” Victor commented, enjoying a bit of banner with this stranger. The fact that he knew who he truly was, despite possessing Adrian’s body, not bothering him in the slightest.