by Lotta Smith
“Excuse me, but I’m not fit for the role, I’m afraid. I love this country, and I don’t want to put America in jeopardy because of my clumsiness. Someone more suitable should be responsible for running the domestic intelligence and security of the United States,” I said. I was using my clumsiness as an excuse, but I didn’t mention my bigger concerns. Actually, the reason I didn’t want to be the head of the FBI was my past of being falsely accused of being the Grim Reaper, and I still felt uneasy shaking hands with other people. In my previous life as a medical student I’d witnessed three people dropping dead just minutes after touching me in three consecutive days. I’d love to say that I’d left that dark history behind, but when you’re the head of the FBI, you have to shake hands with many supposedly “important” people, and I didn’t want to take chances. What if one or more of the important people dropped dead in front of the TV cameras? I didn’t know what triggered people to die on me, but I knew the media wouldn’t just shrug it off as an irregular incident.
“You don’t understand.” She clicked her tongue. “You won’t be running the show. I will. Besides, you will be my asset. By utilizing you as my puppet, I’ll be able to obtain your power as well as take the FBI under my control. Talk about killing two birds with one stone.”
Listening to her talking about me like a tool or an item in her stupid video game, I genuinely felt like bitch-slapping her, but I didn’t. The evil witch in front of me hadn’t fessed up about Julie’s whereabouts, and she didn’t look like the kind of a person who’d turn the other cheek when her right cheek had been hit. Still, I had to make my point. “May I suggest something? Even with your assistance, the chances of my obtaining a high-rank position at the FBI are slim to none. Isn’t it better if you utilize someone with more potential of becoming the director of the FBI, or someone at a very high rank?”
That time, Aurora chuckled. “That is none of your business. I know how to do my job,” she said matter-of-factly, as if she had already been getting ready to take the FBI over. To my horror, she didn’t sound like she was joking. Of course, she couldn’t have been joking. According to Brian, the celebrated psychic had already taken possession of multiple politicians and bureaucrats. I could easily imagine her turning some of them into enthusiastic believers using predictions. Also, it wasn’t difficult to imagine her blackmailing politicians and bureaucrats for scandals. Considering she’d been using dead people as informants, digging up anyone’s dirty laundry should be a piece of cake for her.
As I knitted my eyebrows, she looked into my eyes again. “Amanda, I don’t quite understand your hesitancy for becoming the first female director of the FBI. Why is that? Are you playing the dumb card, or are you afraid you might lose your boss’s interest if you outranked him?”
CHAPTER 8
I almost flinched as Aurora mentioned my boss out of the blue.
“What do you know about my boss?” I asked cautiously.
“What do I know? Aside from well-known facts about him being the heir to USCAB and his name being listed in the top ten of the most eligible bachelors in New York City multiple times? Well, let me see….” She closed her eyes. “For example, I know he cares about you, choosing to have his leg crashed by a bookcase rather than watching you get hurt by the temper tantrum inflicted by a deranged ghost. I’m glad his leg has healed nicely.”
“What?” My jaw dropped. Aurora was talking about an accident last summer in which Rick ended up breaking his leg when he tried to save me. But only a few people in our closest inner circle knew the details of his injury, especially about the part with the ghost. I was talking to a murder victim who became agitated during the interview, and she decided to throw a heavy bookcase at me. Rick didn’t mention the part about the ghost even to Meredith, his doctor. “How do you know that?” I gasped.
“Oh, look at you! The shock on your face. Surprised? Did I mention I’m Aurora Westwood?” The old woman grinned. “Mind you, I can talk to dead people just like you.”
I knew Aurora could talk to ghosts, but still, learning that she had so much information about me was a shocker. “Did you hear about the incident from Ellie Hochman?”
In fact, that ghost had been bugging me for months. Generally, ghosts could talk to me, but touching me or throwing objects at me were beyond their means. Still, the ghost of Ellie Hochman managed to strangle me and shove a bookcase full of books at me. When I asked the ghost how she did it, she disappeared suddenly, even though she was at least trying to answer my question. In retrospect, Ellie seemed to have been forcibly removed by someone—like Aurora Westwood, for example. Then again, if Aurora had been pulling strings for Ellie’s outburst, followed by her later vanishing, it was only natural that the famed psychic knew everything about it. Except, I couldn’t think of her motive.
I felt uneasy sitting in front of Aurora. It would have made it easier if I could just ask her, but I didn’t know how. I wasn’t even sure if it was appropriate to casually ask, “By the way, did you try to hurt me by using a ghost? Did you get rid of her before she fessed up about her relationship with you?”
But before I opened my mouth, Aurora said, “Yes. She regretted her temper and the fact that she’d hurt your boss.” She chuckled. “She was shocked by her sudden gain of power. Perhaps you already know it, but normally, ghosts can’t physically touch or move objects. The only reason she came across her power was by meeting me. I blessed her with a small amount of power that was to be fueled by her negative emotions. And I say, she was so full of antagonistic feelings.”
“Excuse me?” My eyebrows shot up. “Did you deliberately hurt my boss?”
“Oh no. It was my way of greeting you, Amanda,” she said nonchalantly. “But your boss interrupted me. I didn’t expect that, but he saved you. He cares for you so much. Good for you. I’m jealous.”
“Hello? Did you just say that you attempted to hurt me but ended up hurting my boss instead?” I spat, feeling my blood boiling with anger. “How dare you do that to us! What are you, a psycho?”
“Haven’t you got any sense of humor? It’s all about perspectives. You can thank me for being a cupid. So, he was hurt by a little collateral damage, but if not for his injury you wouldn’t be dating him, would you?” The psycho witch shrugged, looking like a cat playing with a mouse.
“But… I didn’t ask you to do that!” I snapped. “Do you have any idea how much pain he went through? I would never have asked you to hurt him, and you’ve just admitted that it was actually your failed attempt to hurt me! Why are you sounding so patronizing, as if you did me some favor? How could you invite me to work for you after all you’ve done to us? Are you insane, or should I interpret this as a sign of dementia?” My tone sounded bitchy but I didn’t care. I was feeling more than defensive and I had every right to be angry.
Aurora snorted. “Anyway, now that you know what I’m capable of, I suggest you accept my offer and start working for me.”
“Are you joking? If so, that’s not even funny.” I shook my head. Actually, I was infuriated about the evil psychic hurting Rick, and I could go on a rant for hours about that, but I wasn’t stupid enough to blurt out my potential weakness to my enemy.
So I stood up to leave. “Looks like I’ve wasted a long time here. Obviously, you have no interest in helping the kidnapped little girl return to her parents. By the way, I’m not interested in accepting your condition to enslave myself in exchange for Julie. I was so stupid to visit you in the first place. This conversation is over, and I’m not thankful for your time.” Okay, so I didn’t have a clue about Julie’s whereabouts, and I wanted to find her, but I couldn’t stand another second being stuck with Aurora.
As I started walking, Aurora opened her mouth. “Amanda, don’t be so shortsighted. Think about the wealth of information I’ll be providing you once you’re on my team.”
“For your information, I don’t want to join your team.” Without stopping, I passed by her side.
“Oh really?” she said
sarcastically. “For starters, I can tell you something about your ghost pal, Jackie, formerly known as Jackson Frederick Orchard.”
My ears perked up at the mention of Jackie’s name, but I kept walking… albeit a little slower.
She went on. “I can give you the name of his—or should I say her?—killer, and of course, I’ll give you the evidence for the murder.”
That time, she grabbed my attention. A smarter woman would have kept walking to make her point, and a lesser woman would have returned to the evil witch, panting like a dog awaiting his treat. I stopped walking. Then I turned back… or at least, I tried to turn back, but somehow one of the tips of my shoes got caught in nothing and I stumbled. In an attempt to avoid falling and embarrassing myself, I put one foot in front of me and then the other while flapping my arms like a chicken trying to fly.
As a result, I literally ran back to her, except my gait was more like a bumble rather than an intentional run.
“Aaaah! I can’t stop!” I shrieked, falling toward the evil witch who responded with merely a snicker while I dove onto the very chair where Aurora was sitting.
Thanks to taking many steps during my stumble, I’d managed a soft landing. Also, Aurora somewhat caught me in her arms. “Oh, thank God you caught me,” I said, detaching myself from her embrace.
“You already owe me some work, I believe,” she said matter-of-factly, but then she grimaced, clutching her head. “What did you do to me?” she demanded, holding her head in both arms.
“What do you mean? I didn’t do anything,” I replied, puzzled. Personally, I wanted to ask her what she’d done to me so far. Although, considering her track record of messing with my life, I wasn’t sure if learning about all her dirty tricks would make me happy. “So, about Jackie’s murderer? Who killed her?” I asked, assuming the old witch was faking an ailment, but….
“My head… my head….” Still holding her head, as if she had a monster headache, she started panting like a cow in heat. She was also turning purple—no, pukey puce seemed like a more appropriate term to describe her color. Even with her heavy makeup, she was turning puce.
“Um… are you okay?” I asked, but then she was spewing foam out of the corners of her mouth. Yikes. I wondered if she needed CPR, but I opted out. After all, she was drooling, and I wasn’t big on touching her drool. If I were to list something positive about the catastrophe in which I got kicked out of medical school without a degree but with a humongous student loan, it would be getting rid of the risks of touching other people’s bodily fluids in line of my job.
Still, as a former medical student, I decided to do something helpful for her—or at least, I tried. “Are you oka—eek!” When I contemplated if I should at least attempt to take her pulse even though I wasn’t keen on doing that, I shrieked. The glittering bracelet I’d recognized earlier had disappeared, replaced by a dozen black, furry spiders the size of golf balls. “Wahhh!” I shrieked at the top of my lungs.
“What’s happened?” The door burst open and Dasha ran into the salon.
“Auro—I mean, Ms. Westwood has just collapsed, and the spiders….”
“Oh, Madame! Madame Aurora!” Dasha scurried to the TV psychic now practically convulsing. “Madame, are you all right?” She reached for Aurora’s arm.
“Excuse me, but perhaps you don’t want to touch the spiders. They might be poisonous,” I mumbled, but the security guard looked at me as if I’d said something really stupid.
“Are you on drugs or something?” She frowned. “Where are the spiders?”
When I looked at Aurora’s arm again, the spiders were gone and there was the bracelet. Still, the diamonds seemed to have lost their previous sparkle. “No… it’s just… I was a little panicked. Never seen someone getting so sick so suddenly,” I mumbled.
Okay, to tell the truth, someone touching yours truly and collapsing in total agony was actually déjà vu to me, but I wasn’t going to share that with the scary security guard. Also, I didn’t want to admit my past of being called the Grim Reaper.
I glanced at the purple-colored woman. She was groaning and sweating profusely, looking even worse than a few minutes before.
“Does she have any existing conditions? Like heart disease?” I asked Dasha, just to fill the awkward silence.
“No. She was totally healthy.” Dasha shook her head, then reached for the phone on the table and immediately called 911. Once she was done with the dispatcher, she started loosening her employer’s clothes, almost barking, “Madame, please look at me. Look at me! Stay with me, stay with me! You’ll be fine. Stay with me!”
Watching her trying to resuscitate Aurora, I half expected—and half wished—that it was all a prank and Aurora would get up, shrieking, “Surprise!” Then everyone would laugh their ass off—until I started whacking Aurora and Dasha really hard in their faces. I’d been working diligently for the past few years trying to sweep away being the Grim Reaper. Also, it was my first time to actually witness someone who yelled “Stay with me! Stay with me!” like a cop show character whose partner/lover had just been gunned down.
Talk about a surreal situation….
Even though I wasn’t a huge fan of Aurora Westwood, I wished she wouldn’t die. I knew I didn’t kill her, and the rational part of me was screaming, “People just don’t die from touching someone else!” Still… considering my past, I wasn’t sure of anything.
When paramedics appeared in the salon, carrying a stretcher, the renowned TV psychic was unconscious, and I answered their questions on autopilot.
“When she was speaking with me, she suddenly clutched her head, saying she had a headache, and then she collapsed. No, she didn’t seem to be ill before that. It all happened so abruptly, and….” I felt light-headed as I spoke.
“Miss, relax. Take a deep breath,” one of the paramedics said, sitting by my side and patting my hand.
“I-I-I… thought she was having a subarachnoid hemorrhage or something and….” Babbling, I watched the paramedic guy in horror, fearing he’d start to break down in agony as his hand touched mine.
“I see. Thank you.” When he got up without any signs of sickness, I let out a sigh of relief.
Following Aurora being carried out on a stretcher with Dasha tagging along with the paramedics, I noticed Paloma Seymour, the secretary, wasn’t around.
“Excuse me?” I whispered to one of the maids walking along the long corridor. “May I speak to Ms. Seymour?”
“Ms. Seymour?” The maid looked at me as if I’d said something stupid. “She left early, saying she wasn’t feeling well.”
I thanked her and went out of the extravagant entrance after the paramedics.
* * *
“Let us in! It might be my partner needing the ambulance! If anything, and I mean anything, happens to her, you’re in big trouble. This is a promise, not a threat.” When I came out of Aurora Westwood’s mansion, Rick was practically yelling at Aurora’s staff at the gate.
“Um… Rick?” I called his name sheepishly, making a little finger wave at him and Brian.
“Mandy!” Rick ran to me and scooped me up in a bear hug. “Are you okay? Nothing hurts?”
“Umm… I’m… good,” I gasped. In his strong embrace I recalled that his Calvin Klein model-worthy body wasn’t just for the show but actually was armored with hard muscles.
“Are you sure nothing hurts?”
Rick kept on clutching me until Brian said, “Rowling, why don’t you stop squishing her so she can breathe?”
“Fine. I’m glad you’re okay.” Releasing me from his embrace, Rick glanced at the stretcher being loaded into the ambulance. “If you’re okay, who’s on that?” He arched an eyebrow.
“That’s Aurora Westwood,” I said.
“Seriously? What happened?”
“Why does she look so… purple?” Brian asked.
“It’s complicated.” I bit my lower lip as Rick and Brian peppered me with questions. “It was an accident. I was falli
ng toward her, having stumbled on nothing, and she caught me. All of a sudden, she started complaining of a headache, and the next thing I knew, she was convulsing and spewing foam out of her mouth,” I mumbled.
Rick and Brian exchanged glances. Thanks to the ambulance blasting its siren, crowds started to gather on the sidewalk.
“Let’s leave this place.” Rick threw the car key to Brian, took my hand, and led me toward the parked car.
CHAPTER 9
As we got in, I started explaining what had happened inside Aurora Westwood’s fortress. I told them how she demanded I be her puppet, and about my fury when she said that she’d hurt Rick using the ghost of Ellie Hochman.
“I was so furious, and I totally, absolutely hated her guts, so I stood up to leave. Then she mentioned she was open to telling me about Jackie’s killer, with evidence and everything. I suspected she might have been lying, but at the same time, that piece of information sounded too good to pass up, so I turned back to her. Then one of my shoes caught up with something, or nothing, on the floor, and I fell toward her. I’d managed a soft landing, and she caught me in her arms, but….” I took a deep breath.
“She started turning purple, complaining of a severe headache, collapsing,” Rick muttered. “Hmm, why does it sound like déjà vu?”
“Hey, I don’t want to hear the G-word,” I warned.
“You mean Grim Reaper? No, I’m not saying that word.” Rick raised an eyebrow.
“You just did!”
“Don’t worry, it’s not like every person drops dead after touching you.” Sitting on the back seat, Rick patted my arm.
“Yeah, right,” Brian chimed in. “I saw Meredith touching her hand on Saturday, and she didn’t seem affected.”
“Still, I’d really hate to be the direct reason for her death.”
“Hey, I’m gonna throw a huge thank-you party if that evil witch ends up dead, and I’m not alone,” Brian said in a cheerful tone. “Rumor says she even takes assassination gigs, using curses or black magic or whatever crap.”