Gypsy Hunted: a psychic paranormal book with a touch of romance (The Gypsy Medium Series 1)

by Andrea Drew

  “What about the pets? Did you witness that?”

  “No, I didn’t see him do that. I would have tried to stop him. He knew how much I loved Blackie and Dolby. When I asked him what happened to them, he denied knowing anything. He said someone must have broken in. His story never rang true, but I knew better than to take him on about it.” Christie paused.

  “I thought we’d moved past all of this. It was years ago. Aaron met Tiran and got a job after Bailey was born. Made a fresh start.” Christie took a deep breath.

  “Tiran dead, it can’t be, are you sure it was her?”

  “I’m sorry, Christie, but we’re sure. There’s no doubt,” said Connor. “I need to find him. Any idea where he’d go if he wanted to hide out?”

  “Yeah, the factory in Laverton probably.”

  Ian looked at Connor and ran his hands quickly through his mop of jet black hair.

  “Actually, we’ve already been there.” Ian looked at the floor.

  “You have? Was he there?”

  “That’s where Joanne Seyers was found.”

  “The abducted woman? Are you serious? Oh, my God.” Christie's voice dropped to a whisper as the truth dawned on her. Then it rose to a high pitch as she screamed, “What the hell has he done? What the hell has my brother done?” She stood up and started pacing, shaking her hands in front of her.

  Connor grabbed her by the wrists.

  “Christie. Christie, look at me.” She lifted her head and Connor spoke quietly. “It’s going to be okay, I promise you. I’ll find him. I promise.”

  Christie dropped her arms to her sides, and Connor eased her back down onto the chair.

  “What about Bailey? What’s going to happen to him?”

  “I was hoping you would take him.”

  “Me? I work full time. There’s no way I can look after a baby.” Christie’s face contorted.

  “No, I meant you could take him over to Jill’s place. We both know how she feels about kids, especially young ones. She’d love to have a baby in the house.”

  Christie dropped a hand from her hair to pinch her nose. “That’s true. It would cheer her up having Bailey with her. Let me know.” She raised shakily, Connor moving with her to touch her elbow to guide her to the kitchen.

  “So what’s the next step, then?”

  “I’m not sure, Christie. All I know is I need to find Aaron soon. I’ll let you know when I know more. We’ll talk soon, okay?” Connor looked at Ian, giving him the silent signal that it was time to move on.

  “Let’s go. We’ve got this damn press conference, so we’d better put in an appearance,” said Ian through thin lips.

  Connor and Ian headed for the door, and Connor breathed deeply, preparing himself for the circus that was about to unfold at St Kilda Road Police Headquarters.

  *****

  I’d already started planning my escape. Lyndall had come back to report that the care team had decided that I could be discharged home, with frequent out-patient appointments. The news filled me with excitement. I’d see my cat, Jerry, and could settle myself into a normal routine again. My walking was improving, and was almost back to a regular gait, the walking stick only a formality. I no longer suffered from headaches, and my speech was almost back to its pre-injury state. Sure, sometimes it took me a couple of seconds to work out which word to use, but considering I’d almost been killed, I was pretty damn pleased with my progress.

  The trick now was convincing the staff I’d be okay for release to my own home, without Leah. I wasn’t worried. Surely, the force could arrange a police car or two to swing past occasionally. Meanwhile, I still had a police guard in front of my room, changing shifts regular as clockwork.

  I wasn’t stupid. I hadn’t mentioned any of this to Leah, because she’d hit the roof. I did, however, understand the legalities of the situation. There was no legal reason for the staff to keep me within the hospital walls against my will. They simply couldn’t do it. Of course, their perceived ethical and moral obligations over my care were a different story, but surely, I could find a way around that?

  I’d always been a fast talker, and in this case, I’d need to use every ounce of persuasion. I’d already decided I didn’t want to stay here for a minute longer than I had to. If they really pushed the point, I’d tell them that Leah would be visiting me at home on a regular basis.

  I prepared myself for the battle ahead. I’d already started packing.

  *****

  After circling the car park three times, Connor finally found a space. He wasn’t looking forward to the press conference, but he knew he had to get it out of the way. The cold drizzling rain didn’t help his mood. He took the elevator to the foyer, and checked in with Bill at the front desk. Bill was a retired cop. His grey hair was cut short and he wore dark rimmed glasses. He smiled as Connor approached.

  “Connor, long time, no see.”

  “Bill. Yeah, press conference. I can’t say I’m looking forward to it.” Connor reached into his inside jacket pocket, curling fingers around his badge.

  “Third floor, they’re just setting up. Good luck.”

  With a wave, Connor headed into the elevator.

  The scene in the foyer of St Kilda headquarters was one of intense activity. Its white tiled floors and floor-to-ceiling windows gave the impression of a corporate head office, if it weren’t for the armed guards parked by each of the four main entrances.

  He joined the throng of people outside the elevator. The doors slid open and he headed in, wondering what was ahead. How would this go down? What did the media know, exactly?

  Connor entered a large room, which was almost full. Directly ahead was a stage with a lectern. There were a couple of hundred seats that were almost filled. The wind was howling outside, until it seemed that the room was shaking slightly, and the rain was painting slash marks across the tinted windows. The lights offered a dim glow, except on the stage, where the chief was bathed in light. He stood to the right of the lectern, along with his assistant, Darcy Long, the Media rep, Jane Strickland, and Ian Robson. Shit, Connor was probably supposed to be up there, too. He realized he'd had an appointment in the chief’s office before the press conference, which he’d conveniently forgotten about. He watched as the chief spotted him and whispered in Darcy’s ear. Darcy looked over at Connor before heading down the stage stairs and heading toward him.

  Connor recognized Kelly Lowden, one of the journalists in the crowd. Her head came up, and she smiled as she saw him. She stood up and sashayed over with a smile. Kelly was one of the few journalists he trusted. He’d worked with her during Project Beacon, and also slept with her twice after the split with his ex. Damn, she was probably going to ask why he didn’t call.

  “We meet again, Mr. Reardon. Although I have to admit I was hoping to hear from you sooner.” Her perfume was sweet and heady, invading his nostrils. Kelly was just as gorgeous as ever, blonde, fit, tanned, with bright red lips, and huge green eyes. They’d gotten together a few months ago. Kelly was the main instigator, and who was he to argue?

  The raw pain of his marriage breakdown had diminished, but it nibbled at him occasionally. He wondered about where it would all lead, usually at night as he stared into the inky darkness of his bedroom ceiling, seeking answers he now knew would never come.

  He’d encountered Kelly during the Project Beacon investigation. Her smiles and ability to listen had flattered him, and while usually immune to casual banter, he’d agreed to a night out.

  He remembered the way she had laughed with him over dinner, later taking his hand once they arrived back at his flat, guiding him to the bedroom, where she kissed him softly. He remembered the feel of her soft skin, her hair falling gently as she moved over him. Somehow, he hadn’t called her after that, although technically there was no reason not to. She was stunning in every way. Despite sleeping together twice, at the time, he wasn’t sure how to tell her she was a temporary fix to heal the gaping hole inside his chest since the split—som
eone warm and beautiful to share his bed, but he hadn’t been ready to take it any further than that.

  Connor ran his hand across his stubble. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, Kelly. I guess I just wasn’t ready.”

  “Maybe you could make it up to me by telling me the real story behind this Seyers’ case. Why was she found at your warehouse, Connor?” She gave him a steady look, her smile slow as she waited for his response.

  “Come on, you know I can’t talk about a current investigation.” He was starting to sweat now, and could only hope she didn’t notice.

  “You know you can trust me, Connor. We’ve done this before. Project Beacon, remember?” She flicked her hair and looked up at him.

  “I remember, Kelly, I really do. I know I can trust you—if there’s a story to be had, you’ll get it. This one’s different, though. Where there’s family involved, things change.”

  “I know that, Connor. Let me in a little, though, okay?”

  “Actually, you might not want to be seen with me. My career's on a one-way journey to the toilet.” He nodded his chin toward Darcy Long, who had almost reached them, his face a steely mask.

  Darcy stopped suddenly. At over six feet four, he towered over them, his baldhead reflecting the light, the surly expression on his face commanding their attention and bringing the conversation to an abrupt close.

  “D.C. Reardon, an urgent word, please. Excuse us, Ms. Lowden.” Long's deep voice and serious look told them he meant business. Kelly reached into her pocket and retrieved her business card, passing it to Connor with a final look.

  “It’s okay. I know when I’m not wanted.” She handed the card over. “Call me soon, okay?” With a waft of perfume, she was gone, her shapely legs carrying her quickly back to the press area.

  Darcy Long was so close that Connor could smell his breath.

  “Detective Reardon, I wonder if you fully grasp the seriousness of the situation.”

  Connor sighed, pulling at his earlobe. “Of course I do, I’ve been on the case for days.”

  “Really? The Chief was expecting you in his office an hour ago. He has news of vital importance that he needs to discuss with you…”

  “Look, I got busy with the case, okay? I understand all of the implications, but…”

  Darcy Long placed an arm on Connor’s shoulder. “The Chief has asked me to escort you to the stage immediately.”

  Connor wrenched his shoulder away from Darcy, whose face was going red. “Get your damn hand off me.”

  The lumbering man took a step backwards, removing his hand. “Follow me.”

  “Listen, Darcy, I’ll come with you, but there’s not a chance in hell I’m getting up on that stage. Get me a seat in the front row, but the stage is not happening. You can jam it.” Connor looked at him, his mouth set, the muscles in his cheek twitching as he fought for control.

  “Wait here.” Darcy Long clomped off toward the front row, with Connor following. Connor watched as Darcy leaned his long frame over to whisper in the ear of someone seated in the front row, who promptly rose and moved to sit in another chair. Just before the press conference began, Connor took his seat.

  The Chief moved up to the lectern, and the click and flash of cameras began.

  “Thank you everyone for your attendance today. As you know, Joanne Seyers, an employee of Victorian Police is recovering in the hospital. Her family is thankful for her recovery, and asks for privacy at this time. I can assure you that this active and ongoing investigation is receiving top priority, and a taskforce has been assigned where we are pursuing a number of enquiries…”

  Connor had heard it all before, and the Chief’s words merged into a hum of white noise. He noticed Kelly was staring at the Chief intently. After a while, her hand and a few others went up. It was obviously question time and Connor realized with a creeping sense of dread that bad news was coming.

  “What can you tell us about the location in which Ms. Seyers was found? Rumor has it she was found in an abandoned factory owned by a senior detective. Can you confirm or deny?”

  Connor froze, his attention now riveted on the chief.

  Jack Reynolds cleared his throat, glancing down at his shoes before raising his head.

  “Yes, I can confirm that Ms. Seyers was found at an abandoned warehouse. The property is owned by a member of Victoria Police. As I said earlier, the investigation is active and ongoing.”

  A murmur rippled through the audience, increasing in volume.

  Another raised hand amongst the crowd was chosen from the rabble of voices, questions tumbling over one another.

  The Chief gestured with a stiff nod. “Yes?”

  “What can you tell us about reports that there was a recent murder involving the Reardon family, namely the death of Aaron Reardon’s partner?”

  The chief looked at Darcy Long before speaking. “That information is recent and we are unable to comment. We are still pursuing all possible avenues.”

  “Do you have any evidence linking this detective to the abduction?” The speaker was Kelly Lowden. Connor looked across at her, mouthing the words, “Thanks.” She smiled thinly.

  Jack Reynolds the police chief cleared his throat, hands clasped firmly on the lectern. “As I mentioned, this is a current investigation. However, I will say that due to ownership of the property, the member in question has been suspended from duties pending an investigation by our internal affairs team. Once he has been fully cleared, he will resume active duty.”

  Connor felt the blood rush to his face, his head pounding. He looked up at his partner, standing meekly on stage, but Ian wouldn’t meet his gaze. Of all the traitorous, disloyal, media pleasing snakes, Jack Reynolds was King. Crimson rage blazed through him, as he fought to regain control of his emotions. So this was why the chief wanted to see him earlier. His chest was a locomotive, pounding madly, and he held firmly onto the seat, bending his head down, focusing on his knees.

  “So you’re saying Detective Reardon is a suspect? Surely without evidence that is purely a pre-emptive move?” called out one of the journalists, a tall man known as Tom Sheehan, high profile print reporter who also appeared regularly on a current affairs panel.

  “I’m afraid that’s all I can discuss. As I’m sure you understand, the investigation is ongoing. I’ll hand questions over to our Media Liaison Officer. We will advise of any developments as they happen.” He stepped from the lectern and stomped down the stairs toward Connor.

  “You, me, my office, now,” he growled as he walked past.

  Connor's fists were clenched so hard he could feel fingernails biting into his palm. He propelled himself up from the chair, casting a look behind to see heads turned toward him, their faces suspicious. Kelly shot him a supportive smile, before he stomped after the chief.

  13

  I was feeling especially upbeat today, and had started packing my bag, smiling as I picked up a t-shirt, folded it, and packed it neatly in the bag. The doctors had been in to tell me I’d be going home—Renee and Leah could take me home later that day. Humming to myself, I folded a pair of purple pajamas, and I was stuffing them in the bag when the television in the background caught my attention. That sounded like Connor’s name, didn’t it? I wondered for a moment if I’d misheard.

  “…in breaking news, a senior detective is currently suspended from duty, and being questioned in relation to his involvement in the Joanne Seyers’ abduction case. Ms. Seyers was found at a warehouse owned by Detective Reardon’s family in Laverton. He is being questioned further and has been removed from duty pending investigation outcomes. We’ll update you on this breaking story as the situation unfolds…”

  I covered my face with my hands. Within a second or two, I dropped them and I threw the clothing I had in my hands across the room and felt prickles under my eyes. Don’t cry, dammit, don’t cry. Ice moved through my veins, and I sank onto the bed. Could this be true? How well did I really know him? Is this why he didn’t respond to my calls? Was he there
at the factory with Joanne? My mind swam with the possibilities and I thought about the night we met, the night Joanne was attacked. Although it was only a few minutes between my departure from Sophia’s restaurant, and stumbling across the kidnapping, it was enough time for Connor to leave the restaurant and commit the crime. Was Connor really the man who hurt me? Why? I felt nauseous and my head swam with possibilities. Could he have bolted from the restaurant to lie in wait for the young woman, Joanne? Surely, he wasn’t that good an actor? I had been so positive that he was one of the good guys, exactly as he seemed, but my rock solid certainty had taken a blow.

  I was attracted to this man, and had been positive he felt the same. I scanned through the pictures in my mind of that fateful night, searching for clues, some indication that he was not as he seemed. He was a man of integrity, handsome, charming, and hard working. What did I miss? Joanne was an employee of the police force, if anyone had wanted easy access to her it was possible Connor could have tracked her and ran from the restaurant to abduct her. Possible but probable? The doubt was churning and burning my chest.

  I felt a chill along my back. Had I sent my niece into the lion’s den? Was it Connor who attacked me Saturday night, and I’d led my niece right to him? Connor had found the victim, but how had he known she would be there?

  I was devastated to have been so wrong about him, blinded by his looks and charm. Could I really have been so wrong about this?

  My instincts were usually pretty good. Connor seemed to be a man of integrity. What were his motives? Why did he do this? Surely, this would ruin his career. My instincts had also told me that Connor was hiding something important. He’d closed himself off to me and now I needed him to spill the truth.

  I headed over to the telephone and dialed his number. As expected, it went straight to voicemail. Next, I called Leah on her mobile. It rang only twice.

  “Leah?”

  “Gypsy. What’s happening?” Leah sounded concerned.

  “Have you heard the news?”

  “No, I’m at work. What news?”