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

by Andrea Drew

  “I see,” said Meagher. “Our concern is your knowledge of your nephew’s involvement in this.”

  Connor pushed his chair across the carpet “Right, well, I need to check on this witness.”

  “The interview isn’t over.”

  He sat back down, strumming his fingers on the table.

  “There’s still the matter of the deleted report.”

  Oh, shit.

  The room swung into sharper focus. Connor knew Meagher was referring to the report that had been edited while Robbo was in his ear at the station last week. He’d processed it, and then as an afterthought, shifted its status to ‘pending,’ effectively moving it out of the active system.

  “That was an afterthought. I was concerned about witness safety.”

  “Why would the witness be in danger?”

  “Look, it wasn’t strictly speaking deleting a report. It was moved from active status to pending.”

  “Go on,” said Bittern, perched on the edge of his seat. He didn't move an inch as he waited for Connor’s reply.

  “It was a precaution. There were a few possibilities at the time and additional risks. I wasn’t convinced Aaron was the perpetrator. There could have been additional suspects.”

  “Possibilities such as?”

  “Given the sensitive nature of the report that Ms. Seyers removed, it’s possible a corrupt member of police had targeted her. My goal was purely and only to get evidence. I wasn’t sure a family member was involved. Who would be?”

  “You weren’t sure if your nephew was directly involved? Well, he was.” Meagher’s moustache twitched and he lifted up his chin to adjust his tie.

  The chair almost fell over as Connor stood up, feeling for the keys in his pocket.

  “I’m done. This interview is over.” His voice shook slightly as he headed for the door.

  Bittern stood up, his hands up in supplication as he moved closer to Connor.

  “Try to calm down…”

  “Calm down? This is my fucking career! I’ve sweated bullets, spent time away from my wife, my family, so don’t tell me to calm the fuck down.” Connor's face was moist, early glitters of sweat on his forehead, his teeth clenched, his long brown finger inches away from Bittern’s face.

  “Just a few more questions…”

  “Move away from me, Bittern, now. This is it.” Struggling to control his temper, Connor scraped the chair away from him. “What about integrity? Trust? I’ve been in the force twelve years, not a ripple, not a blemish and suddenly you want to crucify me, for what? Fucking appearances? None of you has mentioned the contributions I’ve made, the sacrifices. Here I am, slammed over a barrel because of an abduction and murder I wish my damn nephew had no fucking part in!” Connor's shoulders were like pistons, but his hands had fallen to his side. He looked around, realizing where he was, and sunk back into the leather chair.

  14

  Renee opened the door with a creak to see Paul, her father, filling the doorway.

  “Dad!” she rushed into his arms.

  “Mum home?”

  “Yep, Mum’s home, she’s getting ready. We’re picking up Gypsy from the hospital in half an hour and now you’re here. It’s so exciting!” Renee skipped along the tiles, leading Paul by the hand to the kitchen, where Leah was rummaging through her handbag.

  She looked up, her mouth open. “Again?”

  “What do you mean, again?”

  “You, turning up out of the blue.”

  “How is this out of the blue?”

  “No warning, no idea you’d be here. I need some notice, Paul.”

  “Why?

  “Because of what you did! Don’t you see, every time you roll up you might as well just stab me.” Leah turned away, head slumped.

  Paul followed her, raising his hand to touch her shoulder before realizing the folly of the gesture. “I guess I’m not sure if you’ll see me. Surely, we can talk, try again?”

  Leah turned to face him. “That’s a big thing to ask, Paul. Even someone as dumb as you knows that.”

  “Guess so.”

  The silence between them was long and aching, heavy with unspoken words.

  “So what are you saying?”

  “I want to try.”

  “You did try, Paul, and you failed, pathetically and miserably.”

  “Name the time and I’ll be there.”

  “Jeez, Paul, I wasn’t expecting this.” Leah ran her fingers through her hair, oblivious to Renee around the corner. Renee was lurking in the hallway, crossing her fingers, her arms, everything she could think of if it meant Mum and Dad would get back together. She’d give just about anything to have them back together again.

  “So why are you talking to me, then? Rita lost interest, did she?”

  Renee wished her mum would shut up. If she kept on like this, Dad would never want her back.

  “It didn’t work out. It was just a flirtation, a fling. Nothing happened.”

  “But something did happen! It’s called betrayal, Paul. How do you think I felt when I read your sexting messages with some random bitch from work?”

  He paused the way he did when he wasn’t sure what to say next. “I don’t know. I suppose it’s taken time for me to realize what an idiot I was.”

  “Past tense?”

  “Okay, can be. She doesn’t get me the way you do. After everything, all the years together, the ups and downs, it’s us I want, Leah.”

  “So you don’t want her then?”

  Leah looked at him, waiting for an answer to something that had been a fleeting thought in the chaos that was her daily struggle lately.

  “No,” he said, “there’s only one woman for me. Always has been.”

  “I’ll think about the counselling that you refused weeks, no, months ago. What happens to this bloody harlot, this Rita work slut, then?”

  “Don’t call her that.”

  “Well, what should I call her then, your fucking mistress?”

  Leah hadn’t wanted to use the m word. Somehow, this was something that happened to other families, not them. Even their friends had told Paul he had the perfect life, the perfect wife. So what the hell went wrong? Sure, she took him for granted a little, but most married people did, didn’t they? They were a couple, a unit, or she thought they were.

  This was different. This was another woman, even if it was only dirty phone messages.

  “Talk to me in a few days, Paul. No promises, but I’ll see.”

  His shoulders dropped. “You won’t regret this. We can make this work. I know we can.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. This was always going to be a shit storm.”

  “Less rough than splitting, Leah. Look, I’m not asking to move back in—I’m in a hotel until things settle a bit—I’m asking for a chance.”

  “You’ve had chances, Paul. Sometimes a marriage crumbles because of little things. The times I cried myself to sleep, all the small misunderstandings, the annoyances, they build up over time. I’ll have to think about another chance.”

  Paul turned away from her and shuffled his feet.

  “Let me know when you’ve thought it through,” he said. “You know where I am.”

  *****

  Renee’s new ability, sprung from the necessity of being unable to reach me physically had planted the seed of an idea. If she could track me down and establish communication from a distance without being in physical contact, could I track this evil fucker down and find out what he was up to? It was definitely worth a try. If she could try out new abilities, I sure as hell could.

  I thought about the night my life changed and I was left for dead in a dirty smelly alley. Surely, I could find him by revisiting the scene. With my intuition, once I was in the bastard’s space, I was confident I could pick up on his signature.

  I focused, seeing the journey from the air. I found the laneway, which looked vastly different during the day. Litter blew along it, and it looked less malevolent, the
stark reality of daylight slightly different to my memories of that fateful night. Although, of course, the van was gone, his stinking presence remained. I knew that degree of bitter twisted energy hadn’t left it lingered like an unseen mist, a gas that poisoned the minds of those around the source.

  As I scouted the scene, the hairs on the back of my neck and arms prickled on end. We were getting close. I felt a pinging, a crack in the universe opening up. A mist rushed at me before a new scene appeared complete with the smell of unwashed clothes and mildew.

  Did he know I was tracing him? In the small dank apartment, he looked over his shoulder.

  The hunted was now the hunter.

  At first, I saw the edges, the periphery just the couch and chair. Slowly but surely, like paint stripper across a dormant secret, I saw it. There they were two degraded souls planning and talking, holed up in a neglected flat, dirty unkempt and malevolent.

  Holy fucking shit.

  It was Aaron, you sly little fucker.

  My potty mouth had been unleashed.

  Connor’s secret silent burden at last made sense. On the night we met, Aaron had time to grab Joanne, and had to be the reason his uncle was keeping secrets from me. I felt relief that the pieces had slotted into place, tinged with guilt at ever doubting Connor. I remembered the nagging doubt I felt on the night I met him, an instinct that he was not as he seemed.

  There was a damn understatement.

  As I listened to the depraved creatures’ conversation, my sly grin grew wider, allowing my vengeful plans free rein to fester and simmer.

  So you planned on breaking in and scaring the shit out of me, did you weasel? Bet you didn’t count on me being telepathic, you little shit.

  Right now, I needed Renee to put my rapidly forming plan into action. Plus before my discharge, I needed to find and raid some hospital stash.

  *****

  Renee was curled up in bed with a book relaxing. With everything that had happened, she needed to switch off, and go to a world where misery and injury weren’t the main features.

  Chapter three was looking pretty good when she felt a pinging, a knocking on her soul, by someone seeking entry.

  Gypsy, is that you?

  This was becoming a habit.

  The connection was a hook taking hold, the line cemented.

  She not only heard the voice reverberating through her head, but she saw her aunt in the hospital room.

  It’s urgent. I need you. How soon can you get here?

  Gypsy looked back to her normal enthusiastic kick ass self. Today she was glowing, eyes bright. Renee saw Gypsy’s tongue dart from her mouth to wet her lips. She certainly had something to look forward to. Probably going home had perked her up. If Gypsy was so excited though, why was she pacing and biting her lip?

  Renee, I need your help. It’s a lot to ask but you’re almost as much in this as I am.

  Renee fiddled with the book to keep her hands busy.

  What do you mean? What’s going on?

  Whatever this was, it seemed to have brought Gypsy back to life.

  I’ve got a plan to take that bastard down. I found him, tracked him. He’s made it clear what he plans to do with me.

  Renee scratched her forearm, and moved an arm to her stomach, which was gurgling and swirling. This was way out of her league. Her aunt’s new attitude of action taking was a positive step, but not at any cost. This meant she’d been right when she sensed the creep a couple of days ago. The horrible man really was hunting her aunt and tracking her down.

  He could hurt or even kill you. I don’t think this is a good idea, Gypsy.

  Relax, honey, I’ve got it all figured out. Your dad will help you, especially when you tell him about the slime ball trying to abduct you.

  Renee sat up with a jerk, the book falling to her side. Her pulse quickened and she took a deep breath. She wondered if she could do this, if she had it in her to carry through with Gypsy’s plan.

  I’m not sure I can do this, seriously.

  What’s the alternative? That he waits for me in my bedroom, ties me up and tortures me slowly? I’d rather not find out what torture feels like, Renee.

  Gypsy sounded anxious for the first time she could remember. Renee lifted a hand to bite a nail. As Gypsy showed her pictures of what he had planned, the horror crept up her back, tickling her spine and her muscles went on high alert, rigid and tight. She remembered the day the man had followed her home from school, the fear a tightly packed ball in her stomach, the ringing in her ears, the overwhelming relief washing over her when she reached the safety of home.

  She had the chance to stop him from hurting her aunt. She felt the ball in her stomach melt away under a slow burn. She wrung her hands. Her eye caught the glint of her bracelet that she twisted around her wrist. The noise of her breathing reached her ears.

  Do you really think we can do this? Can we stop him?

  She saw her aunt stand up, hands on her hips.

  We can do more than that. We can make him pay. Tell Paul you need to come to the hospital urgently. It’s an emergency. Don’t tell him any more than that. I’ll do the explaining. Most of what we need, you’ll find in the hallway cupboard at my place. Some of it Paul will need to find. Mark left some of his hunting gear behind. We can put it to good use.

  *****

  Aaron’s leg muscles were tight. He was sitting in the car but ready for action. The day before, Stewie had come through. Although the bitch was dumb enough to have her address on her business website, Stewie had agreed to case the place with him. At two in the morning, they’d taken a walk around and checked her place out. The bathroom window on the far corner was dark enough and would provide the easiest entrance for a break in. They’d tried it and the window wasn’t locked.

  The windscreen had misted up. He grabbed an old rag from the floor of the passenger seat and wiped it with a squeak. For days, he’d been looking forward to tonight. She was the reason he’d failed. She was the reason Tiran was dead, this stupid Gypsy bitch. Now she would pay. He wanted to hurt her, watch her squirm, witness the suffering and pain move across her face, to smell the sweat and the fear oozing from her pores.

  Stupid cow, he hadn’t needed the address from Stewie. The ugly whore had her address plastered all over the internet for anyone to see. He found her website, “Business Words,” and there she was on the contact page. It had been an unexpected gift.

  He fingered the handle on the bag behind him. His crowbar was in there, sitting on the top of a pile of tools for easy access. Through the cleared section of windscreen, he could see the trees, their branches barren and brittle, the leaves piled along their base. The grey concrete was a line of steel, and ice seemed to hang in the air. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He’d just about had enough. It was a go, now. He got out of the car and turned the key to lock it.

  The noise of a truck rolling down a hill snapped him back to the present.

  He thought about this old bag, and about how her walk in that damn alleyway had wrecked everything. She had no reason to head into a black laneway. Why the fuck was she there? He thought about Connor. Now there was the perfect example of hypocrisy that he’d lived with for years. The big shot police detective, taking in two orphan children, couldn’t have children of his own. He no longer believed he and Christie were brought into his home for love; more for convenience than anything.

  He knew the reality.

  His sister was actually his cousin. Connor was her father. It wasn’t hard to work out, any fool could see just by looking at them. Yet, Aaron had paid the price. He’d suffered the shame and pain of his parent’s constant preference for his sister. Then he’d lost his dad, followed by a pathetic excuse for a mother, and then an uncle that couldn’t keep his pants on became his adoptive father. Connor had always favored his sister. It was obvious. He’d tried not to let the wounds fester and turn gangrenous, but it wasn’t easy watching the way Connor treated Christie—the smiles, the shining eyes, the abun
dant affection. Christie got the attention, the best schools, and the beams of pride. They’d never expected more of Aaron, so he hadn’t bothered. He’d hassled Christie about it a bit, but nothing she didn’t deserve. What, did they think he was brainless?

  He’d known it would come to a head one day, and here it was. He hadn’t planned on grabbing Jo Seyers, the impulse had rolled across him in a wave of attraction and lust, turning his legs weak and his head giddy. There was something about the moment, their fate, both of them together for eternity, forever.

  He thought he’d loved Tiran, but it wasn’t until he saw Jo that he realized she was the one, the soul mate, a woman he was meant to be with forever. It had escalated from there. Tiran didn’t understand him, didn’t try hard enough, was too wrapped up in the baby and ignored him, resented him. At first, he thought he’d just talk to Jo, maybe get her number, take it slow, but when she swore and then laughed at him, it had tipped him over the edge and he’d grabbed her.

  He was still coming to grips with losing both of them. Opportunities were for the taking. He needed to make it right, and making Gypsy suffer would cancel his misery out forever.

  Gypsy Shields could be silenced permanently. He’d sort his uncle out later. He could feel the anticipation coursing through him, and his limbs twitched with excitement.

  A couple of hours, then it would all be over. Justice would be his.

  *****

  Leah looked completely shocked, flabbergasted in fact, her mouth open, her eyes wide. She was leaning over the counter of the nurse’s station.

  “She’s what?”

  “Ms. Shields discharged herself a couple of hours ago.”

  Leah went pale. Pursing her lips, she turned away from the desk slightly in an effort to control herself. Failing miserably, she slapped her hand down on the bench around the nurse’s station. There was a sudden silence; heads turned.

  “What do you mean, discharged already? She had a bloody police detail outside her room!” Leah let out a sigh as she waved her hand. “I don’t believe this,” she muttered.

  A blonde nurse eyed her off. “I can understand you’re upset, but there was nothing we could do to keep her here. We did try to persuade her. She was very insistent, and told us she would be staying with you. She’ll be back in a couple of days for her outpatient appointments.”