Paranormal in Manhattan Mystery Box Set

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Paranormal in Manhattan Mystery Box Set Page 5

by Lotta Smith


  “Excuse me? Is that like a sacrifice?” I gasped, and Rick glanced again at Julie’s photo.

  “You can say that,” Brian said, looking at Rick’s face. “Still, we’re not certain Aurora’s the one who abducted Jules, right?”

  “Right. Jules is alive,” Rick reassured us. “I don’t feel that she’s hurt or anything.”

  “Good. Anything else you noticed on Saturday?” Brian pressed on.

  “Well….” I recalled the encounter chronologically. “The secretary, I thought I’d met her from somewhere, but I couldn’t recall when and where. So I asked her if we’ve met, and she denied meeting me. I don’t know why, but the two moles aligned by the corner of her mouth like a pair of eyes… I think I’ve seen those moles.”

  As I knitted my eyebrows, trying to search for clues in my foggy memory, Rick interjected, “What’s the secretary’s name?”

  “It’s Ms. Seymour. I don’t know her first name. Aurora just called her Ms. Seymour.”

  “It’s Paloma,” Brian chimed in. “The secretary’s name is Paloma. She’s on a first-name basis with the TV producers.”

  “Paloma Seymour. I’ve heard that name,” Rick muttered, tapping the table with his index finger. Then he turned to me. “You said she has two moles by the corner of her mouth, right?”

  “Yes.” I nodded.

  Rick snapped his fingers. “Now I remember. She’s the wife of Ryan Francine. Her name was written in the case file of Jackson Frederick Orchard’s murder. So, she went back to her maiden name following the hubby’s death.”

  “Jackie’s case file… oh… yes,” I muttered, recalling NYPD’s case file that I’d gone through over and over. Ryan Francine was one of the choreographers from the Aladdin production Jackie was working on shortly before her death. Francine was noted for his premature death before the NYPD went to ask him more questions. The Paloma I remembered from the case file looked cheerful, but the Ms. Seymour I saw a few days ago had no resemblance to her past portrait. If I recalled it right, her young daughter was also killed in the car accident that killed her husband. It wasn’t hard to imagine that having lost both at the same time must have taken a toll on her.

  “Anyway, let’s focus on Jules for now.” Rick looked at the black card from Aurora Westwood. “Why don’t we pay her a visit?”

  * * *

  Forty-five minutes later, I was being led to the spacious salon at Aurora Westwood’s mansion. Located in the most upscale neighborhood populated by embassies, consulates, and super-huge mansions, Aurora’s property was by far the most intimidating, with secure walls surrounding the two-story building like a fortress.

  Paloma Seymour, Aurora’s secretary, led the way. Just like the time we’d met at Lincoln Center Theater, the secretary didn’t show any kind of emotions and was clad in black from head to toe.

  “Ms. Westwood will be so glad to have you over,” she said, as we traveled down the long corridor with twists and turns like a maze. “She was looking forward to talking to you.”

  The corridor was filled with the aromatic scent of a psychic’s office—only it smelled more expensive than the average psychic reading room.

  “So, Ms. Seymour, how long have you been working for Ms. Westwood?” I asked nonchalantly.

  “I’ve been with her for almost three years,” she replied, almost whispering.

  “Three years?” I said, thinking that the secretary had started her current job following the death of her husband and daughter.

  “Yes.” She nodded. Her face was unreadable, but she seemed as if she were observing me as intensely as I did her.

  “Wow.” I chuckled lightheartedly. “You must have witnessed the most amazing, awe-inspiring miracles during your career with Ms. Westwood.”

  “No, I haven’t.” She shook her head slowly. “I don’t seem to have sharp perceptions like Ms. Westwood does. Unfortunately, I haven’t had a chance to feel the miracle, even when I’m witnessing it from up close.” As she said that, a subtle but distinctive emotion crossed her face for the first time. It seemed like a mixture of sadness and loss. There also was desire, perhaps.

  When we reached the salon, she told me to make myself comfortable and not to hesitate to call her using the phone on the low table, for she’d always be available when I need anything. She left a tray of tea and assorted petit fours, such as colorful macaroons that looked like jewelry, chocolate truffles, and little cakes.

  Looking at the tray full of yummy-looking confections, I had to resist my urge to try one, or two… or three of them. And the sweet, inviting aroma….

  Before sending me inside the mansion that looked more like a fortress, Rick and Brian made me swear never to touch, much less eat or drink, anything. I had every intention of sticking to their order. I couldn’t recall any fairy-tale characters who had a fun time after eating food served by the evil witch. Okay, so Hansel and Gretel outsmarted the evil witch by conning her and kicking her into the hot oven, but I didn’t see an oven nearby, and I didn’t have a sidekick.

  Speaking of a sidekick, I wondered where Jackie was and how her interview with Tyler went. According to her, finding me was like tuning the radio, and she could find me wherever I was. I’d left a note for her on the dining table at Rick’s place, telling her about my visit to Aurora Westwood and the address, hoping extra information would make it easier for her to find me.

  I observed the vast, luxurious room while sitting on a cushy beige sofa with Cabriole legs. The place was embellished with Rococo-style furniture, flooded with white and gold, with the occasional peppering of pale blue. I found myself wondering the price of the artworks like the painting on the walls and the vases on the cupboard. I also wondered if one of the vases was a real Ming vase or a replica. That red-and-white vase resembled one I’d seen in a catalog.

  Checking the time on my phone for the umpteenth time, I wondered if it was a bad idea to visit here all by myself. Rick, Brian, and I hopped in a Lexus SUV and were heading for the address written on Aurora’s black card. At that time, Rick and Brian insisted on accompanying me to the Westwood mansion, but as we got closer, I realized visiting the famous psychic on my own seemed like a better option. Arriving with a hotshot FBI agent and an up-and-coming exorcist in tow would seem like a declaration of war, whereas visiting on my own would appear like a social visit. Though reluctant, Rick and Brian agreed with my suggestion. They were waiting for me in front of the citadel-like mansion.

  Having made no appointment prior to this visit, Aurora wasn’t in, but that alone didn’t bother me. What bothered me big-time was the lack of windows in this room. From the outside, the upscale two-story building looked like a posh gallery, but once inside, I noticed it was more like a dungeon.

  Thanks to having been kept in this basement, I was receiving a terrible signal on my phone. I wished I’d brought a paperback, or at least a magazine to kill time.

  In an attempt to distract myself from the sweets and to look for Julie—if she was even being kept captive in this dungeon—I stood up and walked to the door, but I had to face the grim situation the moment I opened the door. A woman in a black suit was standing outside of the door. She was tall and her build screamed “Former MMA fighter!”

  “Hello? May I help you?” she said. I caught an Eastern European accent in her words. Her lips were formed in the shape of a smile, but there was no humor in her eyes.

  “Hi!” I displayed a smile that I hoped to be friendly, trying not to gasp. “Well, I was hoping to visit the powder room.”

  “I see. The powder room is this way. Let me show you.” She nodded and started walking.

  Following her in the corridor, a part of me was tempted to run away, except I knew better than to get on Aurora’s nerves.

  CHAPTER 6

  In the meantime, while I struggled—and immediately failed—to navigate in Aurora Westwood’s dungeon, Jackie was running her own investigation.

  “Hi there! Good morning!” She waved at the ghost of a dead high sc
hool student, who was standing at the same place as yesterday. “How are you feeling today?”

  “The same as yesterday. I’m dead.” Tyler McGraw shrugged. “Where’s your friends today?”

  “They’re meeting someone who makes me a little jittery, so I decided to take some time off and chat with you.”

  “Wow, can you do that?” The boy ghost widened his eyes.

  “Of course. We're friends, and sometimes a girl just needs alone time. For instance, when she’s having her intimate moments with her beau, Rick, I don’t want to interrupt. I respect her privacy.” Jackie winked, grinning.

  “Oh yeah? How long have you been stalking her?”

  “Stalking? Me? No way!” Jackie flipped her arms dramatically. “Okay, so when I met Mandy for the first time and I sensed her ability to see me, I demanded that she find my killer. But now that I’ve been sticking around her for over a year, I’m feeling more like a sister and guardian angel. Oh, don’t forget I’m also a good buddy helping her and Rick with their investigations. Unlike living humans, we can sneak into places and eavesdrop without warrants.”

  “I see. Good for you.” The boy ghost nodded, glancing at the wound on Jackie’s side. “So, you’ve been murdered. Did they find your killer?”

  “No, not yet.” Jackie shook her head sadly. “I often find myself wondering if I want to find my killer that badly. I like hanging around Mandy and Rick, though I can’t have direct communication with Rick. I’m unsure what will happen if my murderer is actually caught…. Okay, enough about me. By the way, Mandy and Rick are meeting this exorcist called Brian Powers.”

  “I’ve heard his name,” Tyler said. “The rumor says he’s exorcised ghosts from some of the hottest haunted spots. Is he that strong?”

  “He’s strong!” Jackie held herself with both arms. “I think he’s capable of exorcising me with just a blink of his eyes. His power is, like, totally enormous, and that’s why I try not to go near him unless absolutely necessary. Still, I can’t help feeling something like holiness coming from him. I think he’s a good guy. He has this scary façade, but underneath that, he’s hiding his gentle heart.”

  “A good guy with a gentle heart,” Tyler muttered. “Sounds like he’s the complete opposite of Aurora Westwood.”

  “I know! Isn’t she like a black hole? Like… capturing everything in the darkness that is hers, never letting them out. Tyler, have you ever met her?”

  “Oh no. I just caught the rumors of her.” Tyler shook his head. “I’m stuck here, but movable ghosts feed me with rumors when they come across me.”

  “Uh-huh. By the way, speaking of rumors, the moms in this neighborhood believe you committed suicide.”

  “What? Me? Killing myself? No way!” Tyler said. For Jackie, it was the first time she’d heard the boy ghost speaking in such a strong tone of voice.

  “Of course, I know you didn’t kill yourself,” Jackie reassured. “I don’t feel the loathing and despair from you, unlike the people who’d killed themselves. Then again, people don’t normally just fall from the rooftop of the building where they live. After all, you don’t look like a former alcoholic or drug addict.”

  “Um… thanks?” Tyler let out a low chuckle.

  “So, what caused your fall?” Jackie asked casually.

  “Well….” Tyler knitted his eyebrows. After a pause, he said, “It was an accident. A freak accident.”

  “How so?” Jackie encouraged.

  “I was hanging with my lifelong buddy since kindergarten, Matt Weisberger. Summer break was about to start, and we were a little high on sugar and anticipation for everything. We were just two high school freshmen—totally carefree, mostly thinking about sneaking into preppy bars near NYU and having fun.” Tyler took a deep breath. “Then Matt brought up the Susan topic. She’s another friend from kindergarten. The three of us had been good buddies… until Susan stole a kiss from me. I didn’t and couldn’t accept her kiss. I liked her fine, but I couldn’t see her as a potential girlfriend. She’s like a sister to me, but Matt was offended by the way I rejected her, and he punched me.”

  “Ouch,” Jackie muttered.

  “Totally.” Tyler agreed. “So I punched him back, telling him I knew he had the hots for Susan and he should have been consoling her instead of assaulting me.”

  “Wait, that’s why you rejected Susan? To give Matt a chance?”

  “Yes and no.” Tyler shrugged. “I secretly had a crush on him.”

  “Oh, I see. I know that feeling.” Jackie patted the boy ghost on his shoulder, or rather, moved her hand to pretend she was touching him. After all, they were both ghosts and couldn’t touch each other.

  “We got into an ugly fight, which was unfair. Matt was a quarterback hopeful, and I was a member of debate club! I’ve seen the presidents of debate clubs with macho physiques and attitude like some kind of MMA fighters at competitions, but unfortunately, I’ve never been one of them.”

  “Ooh….”

  “I knew it was better to back off rather than keep fighting as a human punching bag, so I jumped over the fence of the rooftop. Of course, dying wasn’t in my best interest, and I had every intention of grabbing the railing at the edge of the rooftop. Except, I was much more excited than I thought because my hands were sweaty. And the next thing I knew, I was in the middle of a freefall from the sixth floor. As a result, I’m talking to you just like this.” Tyler gave her a shy smile.

  “So, it was purely accidental,” Jackie said. “What’s keeping you here? The curse by a woman scorned?”

  “A woman scorned? Are you talking about Susan?” Tyler’s eyes widened. “No way, she’s not a person who’d hold a grudge against someone.”

  “Uh-huh. You sound honest, and you don’t sound like you resent Matt.”

  “No, I have nothing against him. It’s just….” He frowned. “It’s just Matt has to forget about me and go on with his life. I’ve been dead for over a year, and he’s still bringing flowers every month. Can you believe that? As for Susan, she’s only visited here twice.”

  “But it was just an accident, wasn’t it?”

  “It was. I jumped the fence voluntarily, but he’s still trapped with the past, loathing himself, feeling responsible for the accident. So he got scared and ran away, and he couldn’t tell anyone about what happened on the day of my death. I don’t give a damn about such things, but it’s his regrets and sorrow that are keeping me here.” Tyler crossed his arms and looked up at the sky.

  “What a shame.” Jackie shook her head.

  “I know. It’s unhealthy on all levels. Matt quit football, saying he couldn’t just keep on playing like nothing’s happened. I told him to quit grieving and blaming himself over and over. The worst part is he can’t hear me.” Tyler held his head in both hands.

  “I know what you mean,” Jackie said sympathetically. “In my experience, less than one percent of people can see us, and even when someone can, they treat us like we don’t exist. Mandy is almost like my only contact in this world. I was sad, enraged, panicked, and devastated when I met her for the first time. I’d lost the sense of time, and my sufferings seem to last forever with a capital F.”

  “You’re so fond of that detective.”

  “Yes, I am. Technically, she’s not a detective. She’s a special assistant with the FBI. Hey, do you mind if I tell her your story? I have a hunch she’ll be able to help you with Matt.”

  “But the guy—Rick?—he seems very protective of her. Doesn’t it bother you?” The boy ghost cocked his head to the side.

  “No way!” Jackie chuckled. “I want her to be happy. They’re made for each other.”

  “Okay.”

  “Right now, their hands are full with a daughter of their good friend being kidnapped, but once Julie’s back, I’ll tell Mandy about you and Matt. She was worrying about you. Definitely, she’s gonna help you.”

  “About that girl…. She’s not coming back,” Tyler whispered. Jackie noticed his hands were cl
enched into fists, trembling.

  “Excuse me? Do you recall anything else about Julie?”

  “Oh… hell… I’m not supposed to tell this.” Frowning, Tyler shook his head. “Actually, Aurora Westwood visited me two days ago.”

  “What?”

  The boy ghost directed his gaze at his loafers, avoiding Jackie’s eyes. “I’ve been asleep most of the time lately, and I was dozing off at that time… but then she talked to me from inside of her car. She spoke to me with a voice that directly echoed into my brain, just like telepathy.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She told me to stay awake for the next day, and make sure that I witnessed a girl getting kidnapped. She also told me to be ready to meet a ghost whisperer lady called Amanda or Mandy. Aurora told me to feed Mandy false information. I told you guys about a black Mercedes and an old lady with heavy makeup, but at that time, I was only feeding you the info Aurora gave me. During the actual kidnapping, the person who snatched the girl was a middle-aged woman driving a white VW.”

  “Oh my God! Does that mean Aurora Westwood is the one pulling the strings of everything?” Jackie gasped.

  “Aurora wasn’t in the car during the kidnapping. Perhaps the woman was someone hired by Aurora, or manipulated by her. I was surprised and, at the same time, skeptical about her command, but what could I have done? I couldn’t say no to her… I just couldn’t. I was scared of her. Whenever a ghost like me doesn’t work as she wishes, she sweeps the spirit out of this world, deliberately torturing them forever, maximizing the agony.” Tyler bit his lower lip.

  “Did she threaten you?” Jackie furrowed her eyebrows.

  The boy ghost nodded. “That witch is notorious for manipulating ghosts, using them as her slaves. Every ghost in this town knows that. She even goes so far as to have ghosts possess humans, just for the sake of manipulation. Jackie, you told me you’re afraid of Brian Powers, right? It’s only natural. You have to be scared of people with the power for exorcism when you’re a ghost, but Aurora’s power happens to be extra huge.”

 

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