Paranormal in Manhattan Mystery Box Set

by Lotta Smith

  “I see.” Rick nodded. “Considering your track record of killing murderers and rapists who slipped out of the justice system, Aurora certainly falls in the category of people whom you can kill without trying.”

  “I didn’t kill anybody!” I smacked his arm, my voice sounding like Minnie Mouse. I thought Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz would have felt the same way as I did when the munchkins thanked her for killing the Wicked Witch of the East. Though in the movie, Dorothy had obviously killed the witch with her family’s house.

  Rick held my hand. “Anyway, thanks for getting even with Aurora for me. After all, considering the old witch broke my ankle, she deserves a hospital visit.”

  “That’s not the point. I was close to getting to the truth, or at least I felt so. Oh my God, I feel like a total loser.” I sighed, my hand still held in Rick’s firm grip. “I should have avoided touching her until she’d fessed up about Jackie’s killer at least. Also, she hinted that Julie’s kidnapper was Paloma Seymour, but she was unconscious at the time when I tried to obtain more information about her. Also, when I tried to speak to Paloma before leaving Aurora’s, it turned out she’d gone, taking a sick day.”

  “Speaking of Paloma Seymour, we’re going after her,” Rick said nonchalantly. “About ten minutes before the ambulance came in, we saw the secretary coming out of the side entrance.” The car was heading for Midtown.

  “By the way, Mandy, you should have seen Rowling freaking the hell out when you didn’t return from the evil witch’s fortress for over an hour.” Brian snapped his fingers. “I’ve never seen him asking for a favor from NYPD.”

  “Shut up, Brian.” Rick snorted. “I didn’t ask favors from anyone. It’s just Chief DeLaurentis kindly offered to send us some backup manpower.”

  “Easy, pal. The plainclothes officers you borrowed from NYPD came in handy to have Paloma Seymour tailed.” Brian chuckled.

  “Oh, I was worried we might have lost her. By the way, I didn’t know Ms. DeLaurentis had been promoted,” I said. The last time we’d worked with her, she used to be a captain. “Where’s Jackie?”

  “She’s gone back to that ghost boy, Tyler, to clarify if the kidnapper’s physical description matches Paloma Seymour. Is that right, Brian?”

  “Yeah, that’s right.” Brian nodded in affirmation.

  “Oh,” I mumbled.

  Rick massaged my forehead with the tips of his fingers. “Stop worrying. At least stop frowning,” he said. “Aurora is crooked, and crooked people never hesitate to lie. Just because she said she knew Jackie’s killer doesn’t mean she was telling the truth. She might have been just trying to get to you, wanting to capture you in her web.”

  “You have a point.” I nodded. “Speaking of webs, I saw her bracelet dissolving into a dozen of huge, ugly spiders with hairy legs. I know what I’m saying is silly, and I myself am having trouble believing that it really happened. I might have been hallucinating or something, I guess.”

  “No, you weren’t hallucinating, Mandy,” Brian said. “I saw Aurora hanging out with a black spider the size of a Chihuahua. That grossed me out, though normally, people don’t see them.”

  “Forget about Aurora. We’ll find Jackie’s killer with or without her help.” Rick wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him.

  “Wow, isn’t that so very reassuring to hear?” Just like always, Jackie popped up from out of nowhere, moving her arms like she was wrapping them around my shoulders.

  “Jackie!” I gasped. I pondered if I should inform her about my conversation with Aurora, but I opted out. After all, Aurora went unresponsive before giving me the killer’s name, and she could have been lying about knowing Jackie’s killer in the first place.

  “Is she back?” Rick tilted his head to the side.

  “Yes.” I nodded. Then I turned to Jackie. “Hey, I was worried you might not be able to find us while we’re moving.”

  “Come on, girlfriend. I’m your guardian angel. I can find you wherever you are, but Aurora Westwood did somehow jam your aura when you were in her fortress.” As the ghost replied, her ‘FESTIVE’ necklace sparkled. “By the way, I spoke to Tyler, and he testified Julie’s kidnapper had two moles lined up at the corner of her lips. Also, the parts about having dark hair peppered with gray strands and having no makeup matched.” She touched the right corner of her mouth.

  “Good.” I nodded, wishing Tyler McGraw was a living human who could testify. If so, we would have been ready to arrest Paloma.

  Rick’s phone beeped.

  “Uh-huh. Got it. Thanks. I’ll be there right away.” Disconnecting, Rick said, “Hurry up, Brian. It looks like Paloma’s decided on her destination.”

  “Roger that.” The exorcist revved the engine.

  * * *

  We went into one of the buildings at a medical center close to FDR Drive, following the direction provided on the phone call. We met two NYPD officers in plain clothes at the lobby of the trauma center.

  The place was crowded with visitors, and I spotted Paloma Seymour among them. She was clad in the same black pantsuit she was sporting at the mansion.

  “The staff at Aurora Westwood’s place said she was sick, not wounded,” I muttered to myself. Also, considering we’d learned about Paloma’s destination while we were still in the car, she had been staying in the lobby for quite a long while.

  Without stopping at the reception, Paloma walked toward the elevator that led to the ward. Keeping some distance, we followed her.

  “Obviously, she’s not here to seek medical attention,” Rick commented. “Perhaps she’s visiting someone in the ward.”

  “I doubt it. She’s not carrying anything that looks like a gift,” I said.

  As we watched, Paloma wandered about in the elevator hall, like she wasn’t sure about her destination. Even from the distance, she looked distracted—absent, even. According to the officers who tailed her to the hospital, she seemed to have had a hard time reaching the facility. For some unknown reason, she didn’t immediately enter the hospital and spent quite some time loitering around the entrance.

  So far, Paloma had let the elevator go past to the upper floors three times.

  I looked up at Brian. “Well, for me, it looks like she’s affected by something.”

  “She’s affected? Of course she’s affected. That’s the understatement of the year.” The exorcist crossed his arms. “Even from this distance, I can see at least a dozen spirits tagging along with her. I’d call it a miracle if that doesn’t make her gaga.”

  “Are those spirits manipulating her? Did they come from Aurora Westwood?” Rick asked.

  “I don’t know where they came from, as they don’t have ID tags or anything on them. They might have found her without the old witch’s help. But one thing I’m sure of, she’s not in a good shape.”

  As we whispered, Paloma finally realized the elevator had arrived once more, and that time, she got inside. Thanks to missing three already, Paloma was alone on the elevator.

  “I’m going with her to see where she’s going.” Jackie followed Paloma to the elevator to keep us from losing her. I did a little finger wave that only Jackie could see. The plainclothes officers were still with us, and they should have known about Brian’s skillset as an exorcist; however, I assumed they weren’t ready to learn about my ghost friend.

  When the metal elevator doors closed, we watched the number on the floor indicator. When it stopped at the thirty-eighth, the top floor, we hopped on the next arriving elevator.

  When we were just about to reach the thirty-eighth floor, I caught Jackie’s shriek. “Hey! Stop it! What do you think you’re doing?”

  I looked at Brian, who grunted, “We’ve got to hurry up,” through his clenched teeth.

  The moment the elevator doors opened, we ran out to the corridor. In front of the elevator was the reception desk, but the receptionist denied having any visitors for the past ten minutes.

  “The rooftop!” Brian said sh
arply, running toward the emergency staircase in the corner of the corridor. Rick, the officers, and I followed the exorcist.

  As I went out on the deserted rooftop, a strong breeze sprung up from the East River. I caught sight of metal containers and railings.

  “Come quick! She’s over there!” Jackie pointed at the woman in black crawling up the railing toward the edge of the building. “You have to do something. She’s gonna jump!” The ghost of a drag queen was practically screaming.

  “Paloma, stop!” Brian barked, but Aurora Westwood’s secretary was unresponsive. As the men darted toward her, she got over the railing, breathing heavily as she reached the edge of the building.

  Paloma Seymour was just one step to her death. The NYPD cops ran fast.

  “Easy, ma’am,” one of them talked to her in a calm voice. “For whatever reasons, jumping off this building to end your life is never the answer.”

  She was silent for a while, but then she snapped. “What do you know about me? Whether I live or die, it’s none of your business!”

  No matter what she said, she was talking, and I found it a good sign. She seemed likely to go on a rant and then relax a little—or at least, that was the scenario I was expecting.

  And then, all of a sudden, she jumped off the railing toward the inside of the rooftop, charging at the officers. The cops attempted to catch her, but with her unexpected speed and power, she dodged them and came running straight toward me.

  At first, I thought she was going to the other side of the rooftop to jump, but instead, she was charging at me.

  “Mandy, run!”

  “Be careful! This woman isn’t herself. She’s dangerous!”

  I caught Rick and Brian shouting while they ran after Paloma.

  “Hey, get a grip! You don’t want to do that. You’ll regret it!” Jackie was also trying to stop the secretary, but she didn’t seem to hear any of the ghost’s words and kept on charging toward me.

  I started running, but I was never good at it. I heard the middle-aged woman roaring like a wild beast as she came after me. From the corner of my eye, I saw the cops drawing their guns, trying to aim at Paloma, except I happened to be in the possible line of fire.

  I really, truly hated this situation.

  I hated running away from my attacker, and I especially hated the part about the fear of getting caught. Rick was coming to rescue me, but I had a hunch the deranged Paloma might be stronger than anybody and could possibly hurt him. And of course, I truly, absolutely hated getting hit by stray bullets. Okay, so sometimes I daydreamed about losing some of my extra fat cells, but having them nicked by lead bullets with the possibility of hemorrhaging and infection wasn’t high on my to-do list.

  So, instead of the running option, I turned back to face her, and without a split second of hesitation, I bitch-slapped her. It came out of impulse, touched with a little bit of calculation. Considering what had happened when I touched Aurora Westwood, I speculated that I might have some chance of winning.

  And I was right.

  I felt a jolt of electricity the moment I touched her, and Paloma recoiled. “Ahh!” she shrieked, clutching her face.

  “I know you’ve kidnapped Julie” I slapped her again. “Where is she? Tell me! Now!” And I slapped her again.

  With a beastly groan, she collapsed onto the gray concrete floor, but I was on a roll.

  “Where’s Julie? Tell me! In ten seconds, you’ll start turning purple and convulsing! Tell me before you die!” I sat on her, pinning her to the floor, and kept shouting like an infuriated version of Natalia Boa Vista from CSI: Miami until…

  “Mandy, you can stop assaulting her.” Rick came and scooped me off the floor.

  “It’s not an assault. It’s an interrogation,” I retorted, but Rick was clutching me and I couldn’t move.

  “Easy,” Brian said, then approached Paloma sprawled on the floor. He took out a cross and patted her with it.

  After a while, Paloma Seymour coughed with a whoosh of air and she sat up. “Wh-what am I doing here?” she gasped. As she noticed she was on the rooftop of a tall building, she squinted, muttering, “What was I thinking?”

  “You just tried to… mmm—” Rick shut me up with a hand over my mouth.

  “I believe you’ve been to this hospital before,” Rick said. The tone of his voice was uncharacteristically soft, considering he was dealing with a kidnap suspect who’d attempted to assault me.

  Looking around herself, Paloma gasped. “Is it… the hospital where my daughter perished?”

  “Yes, it is.” Rick nodded. “Your husband was driving the vehicle with your daughter, Annette, and had a car wreck. Is that right?”

  “Are you with… NYPD? Did I see you at the funeral?” Paloma asked in a whisper.

  “No, I’m with the FBI, and I wasn’t at your daughter and husband’s funeral. But I know a former NYPD detective who was there,” Rick replied. “I also happen to be a close friend of Dr. Grey.”

  When he mentioned the name Grey, Paloma’s pale face contorted.

  “Dr. Grey has a daughter named Julie, who’s missing. Her parents are crazy with worry and we’re looking for Julie. According to a boy who witnessed the kidnapping, the suspect was a slim, middle-aged woman driving a white VW. Do you know anything about the girl’s whereabouts?”

  Paloma opened her mouth, her lips trembling. “Ah… I… I….”

  Brian chimed in. “Paloma, you can trust this guy. And I know you were forced to do so under Aurora Westwood’s control. I can testify for you.”

  “No. No, no, no!” Paloma shook her head violently. “Ms. Westwood never made me do anything.”

  “In that case, are you saying some stray spirits manipulated you into kidnapping the girl?” Brian furrowed his bushy eyebrows. “You’ll have a hard time convincing the jury with that version.”

  “No… I mean….” Paloma’s lips quivered as if she had something to tell but couldn’t find the courage to do so.

  “Paloma, you’ve got to—” Brian started lecturing, but Rick shushed the exorcist with a wave of his hand.

  “Ms. Seymour, what did it feel like when you lost your only daughter?” he asked bluntly.

  Brian took a deep breath. Jackie gasped by my side. “Seriously, Rick?” she said, flapping her arms. “Talk about adding insult to injury!”

  I watched Paloma shaking, fearing that she’d try another attempt at ending her life.

  She clenched her fists, biting her lower lip. Then she opened her mouth. “Everything’s my fault,” she said through gritted teeth. “After meeting Julie, Madame Aurora mentioned Annette would be her age… if only she were still alive. I don’t know what got into me, but after meeting that beautiful girl, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And the next thing I knew, I… I had this desire to own her… as my child… as if having her would replace my deceased daughter. I don’t know how such a monstrosity of an idea got in me, but… but I… took her…. I’m so sorry!” Apologizing profusely, she knelt on ground floor.

  I felt Rick’s muscles tense as he clenched his hands into fists, but his voice was quiet. “Where is she?”

  “She’s in a junior suite at the Plaza,” Paloma said. “I don’t know why, but she’s been like a doll. She’s seemed somewhat absent for the whole time, and she’s unharmed.”

  “I see. The hotel’s close to here. Hey, Brian, can you go to the hotel with the officers so Jules won’t be frightened?” Rick turned to the backup officers. “You guys head there immediately with my associate and place the victim in protective custody.”

  The officers nodded at his command and left with Brian in tow.

  CHAPTER 10

  When Brian and the officers were gone, Rick immediately made a call to Dr. Meredith Grey. Asking her to put him on speakerphone, he briefed Julie’s parents and the agents from both USCAB and the FBI about the turn of events. Then he called the investigation headquarters and arranged a pickup for Paloma as a prime suspect.

&nbs
p; In the meantime, I was told by him to keep an eye on Paloma. Watching her in silence like a prison guard was awkward, so I decided to talk to her.

  “By the way, Ms. Seymour….”

  The woman who had just admitted kidnapping Julie Grey shook her shoulders as if she was terribly startled.

  “I’m sorry… so sorry,” she mumbled, sobbing.

  For a split second, I thought about consoling her, saying things like “It’s okay,” but I didn’t, mostly because I couldn’t find anything okay about abducting a child. So I said, “By the way, an actor named Jackson Frederick Orchard was murdered about five years ago.”

  Jackie, who had been floating by my side the whole time, sucked in air. I looked at her, mouthing, “She might know something about you,” and the ghost nodded with a thumbs-up.

  “The victim’s friends used to call her Jackie, and by that I mean she preferred to be addressed as a female. So Jackie attended the Pride Dance party at Pier 26 and met her premature demise on the way home. Ms. Westwood said she knew something about this murder, and I was wondering if you’d heard about it from your employer.”

  As I spoke, Paloma’s hands were visibly shaking. “I… well…,” she mumbled.

  “You know something, don’t you?”

  Paloma bit her lower lip in silence for a while before shutting her eyes and then opening them. Finally, she said, “The killer was Ryan Francine, my deceased husband.”

  Jackie gasped, and so did I. “Excuse me? Before Jackie’s murder, there were two murders and an attempted murder. So, do you mean Ryan used this unknown serial murderer as his cover-up to kill his coworker, Jackie?” I asked.

  “No.” Paloma shook her head. “Ryan… my husband was the serial murderer.”

  “What?” Jackie and I said in unison, though Paloma didn’t seem to sense the ghost of a drag queen.

  “Still, according to a witness, the assailant was a young man, probably in his twenties… and he had beard. Your deceased husband was already in his forties back then, wasn’t he?” Rick chimed in.