Dead Wrong (A Cree Blue Psychic Eye Mystery Book 1)

by Kate Allenton

  “No one currently,” the lady announced, walking to my side. She must have realized that I wasn’t moving until she answered. “That property isn’t on the market yet. The librarian lived there.”

  “Oh?” I asked. “Did she move?”

  “She went missing. The cops suspect foul play but can’t find the body.”

  “I’ll take it,” I announced.

  “Oh, that one’s not the one for rent.”

  I pointed to the one I hadn’t even seen. “I meant that one. I’ll take it.”

  “But wouldn’t you like to see the inside first?”

  I turned away from the house I wanted to peek inside and back to the woman. I smiled sweetly and gestured to the house next door. “Of course, show me the way.”

  The house she showed me was tiny compared to the Lady Blue, but it was clean and had all the required amenities. The white picket fence went all the way around the house, encompassing the pool in the backyard. Beyond that was a playground and pavilion. “What is that used for?”

  “Community parties and cookouts. This is a very tight-knit community that embraces its members.”

  “Sounds perfect.” I hope my voice didn’t give away my reservations. I was starting to feel like maybe I’d walked straight into the pages of the Stepford Wives or into the layer were all serial killers live unnoticed. Unlike the librarian, I’d be sleeping with one eye open.

  “Excellent.” The realtor beamed. “We just need you to fill out some paperwork, and once your check clears, then you can move in when you’re ready.”

  I planned on it, just like I planned to sneak into the librarian’s house to see if I could pick up any vibes to get to the answers I needed.

  Chapter 9

  C harlotte and I smiled like all southern women do when they’re expected to be nice but also smart enough to be leery of others’ motives. The pavilion across the field got closer with every step. Apparently, they’d planned a come-out-and-meet-the-neighbors party, and I was the guest of honor. Personally, I knew they were deciding if I was Stepford-wife material.

  “Tell me again why it’s a good deal to make friends with these people.”

  I wrapped my arm around hers and grinned. “People love to gossip. We just have to prod them with the right subject.”

  “So around a mouthful of hors d’oeuvres you’re just going to ask, who killed the librarian?”

  “Of course not,” I teased. “I’m going to find out who had motive and make my own conclusions.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. “They better be serving alcoholic beverages with little umbrellas.”

  I glanced her way, and my face turned serious. “Don’t drink their Kool-Aid. Stick with sealed bottles that you open yourself,” I leaned in to whisper. “Anyone or all of these people could be killers.”

  Charlotte spun around like she was about to go back to the rental when I steered her back around in the direction of the pavilion. “You’re the eyes in the back of my head.”

  “And who is watching my back?”

  “There you are,” Ms. Stallman announced. She’d been the first to arrive at my door the day we’d been unloading a few essentials to look like I was actually going to live there. The brownies she’d given me were made with a special blend reserved for college campuses. If the one-woman welcoming committee had been wanting to get me stoned, there was no telling what might happen at this party.

  Ms. Stallman stood on one of the picnic table seats and clapped her hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Everyone, this is Cree Blue… and her friend.” Henrietta Stallman looked down her nose at Charlotte, who stood out like a turkey running the fields on Thanksgiving. Most everyone was dressed casually, except I was in a little sundress and Charlotte was wearing ripped jeans and a T-shirt that did little to complement her figure. The men looked us over as if debating if we’d be dessert, and a few of the women raised their brows.

  “Let’s all be hospitable and welcome them into the Shady Oaks community.”

  “Let’s not,” Charlotte whispered, and it took the full strength of my resolve not to grin.

  The women from the group slowly surrounded us like wild cats and we were their prey, looking for the perfect place to strike our jugulars.

  The tall blonde leader of the group stopped in front of me. Her gaze lingered, down to my shoes and back up. “I’m Ava. I live in the house across the street from yours.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ava.” I held out my hand, but Ava didn’t shake it. She was the suspicious type. I could read it in her eyes and her ugly aura.

  Ava crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her wine glass to her lips, taking a sip. “Are you two a couple?”

  I exchanged a look with Charlotte and debated how I wanted to answer that question. Of course, Charlotte and I were just best friends, but these people didn’t know that.

  “There you are, honey.” Mason’s voice came from behind before his arms wrapped around my waist. His breath was hot against my skin before he pressed his lips to my cheek. “Sorry, I’m late. I lost track of time.”

  Ava’s shoulders immediately relaxed. “Perfect, you’re married. We were worried about having another single woman living on this street.”

  “Oh, we aren’t married.” I smiled up at Mason.

  “Yet. I’ve asked, and I’m just waiting for her to say yes. Isn’t that right, sugar?” Mason’s voice was full of warning. His warm fingers rested on my stomach.

  I raised my brow and turned back to the women. “Something like that.”

  “Excuse me,” Charlotte interjected. “What happened the last time a single woman lived on this street?”

  “The librarian,” a tiny brunette standing next to Ava announced.

  “Marcie,” Ava growled in warning, the way a southern woman was trying to be sugar sweet but reminding the group she still had claws.

  “She needs to know,” Marcie continued. “The librarian lived in the house next door. She vanished in the middle of the night.”

  “It had to be that boyfriend of hers,” another lady announced. “He looked like a thug.”

  I glanced up at Mason; his brows were furrowed. Apparently, the police didn’t know about a potential boyfriend. I sure didn’t.

  “Who was the boyfriend?” Charlotte asked.

  “Oh, we don’t know his name. She didn’t introduce us,” Marcie announced.

  The other girl picked up where Marcie stopped. “I’ve only seen him come around at night.”

  “Ooh. He sounds mysterious,” I cooed. “Was he good looking? Did he seem rich? Were they an item for long?”

  “It’s not polite to gossip, Marcie,” Ava announced and spun around and headed to where the men were standing.

  “Sorry.” Marcie frowned. “We aren’t supposed to talk about it.”

  I gave Marcie an understanding smile. “Why is that?”

  “The whole incident has left a dark cloud over the neighborhood.”

  Mason’s arms tightened around my waist.

  “I thought I saw signs of a neighborhood watch,” Charlotte said, resting her hands on her hips.

  “A few houses have cameras, but we don’t technically have a neighborhood watch. I mean we look out after each other and report suspicious activity…”

  “Who do you report it to?” Mason asked.

  “Ava and her husband, Hank,” Marcie answered.

  “Marcie,” Ava called out, and we turned to find Ava and her husband staring at us.

  “Sorry. I’ve got to go. It was nice meeting you all. I live next door to you, Cree. Feel free to stop by if you need anything.”

  “Thanks and the same goes for you,” I said while slipping out of Mason’s arms.

  We all watched her walk off, and then I turned my glare on Mason and crossed my arms over my chest. “How did you know where to find me?”

  “You’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong,” he answered. “This is an active investigation, and any one of those
people could be the killer.”

  “Actually, I was leaning more toward the mysterious boyfriend,” Charlotte interrupted.

  “Detective Spencer, you didn’t answer my question. How did you find me?”

  His eyes searched mine, and the more I thought about it, the more I was beginning to understand. “Come to think about it, how did you know I went to the jail?”

  “He must have a tracker on your car,” Charlotte answered and covered her mouth when he didn’t say one way or another if she was correct. “Oh, Detective. I thought you were smarter than that.”

  I balled my fists at my sides, and my glare turned into daggers. “You need to leave, sugar.”

  He reached for my arm, and I took a step back. “Cree, let me explain.”

  “Leave. Now.”

  “I’m not going to apologize for watching your back. God knows someone needs to. You walk right into danger without a second thought about your own safety, and you drag your friends into it with you. Now I’m starting to understand why Faraday didn’t let you investigate the active cases.” He leaned in to whisper in my ear, “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  “Goodbye, Detective.” My words were a whisper between us, the tone unrelenting as anger stirred through my veins.

  “Watch your back, Cree. Even if you figure out who the killer is, you aren’t equipped to stop him from coming after you,” He said before stomping off and disappearing around the corner of my house.

  “He’s got a point. You’re never this close to the action,” Charlotte said, wrapping her arm around mine and turning me back to the neighborhood party.

  “If I could get my hands on something personal of Margarete Stead’s, then I wouldn’t need to be this close.” I glanced over my shoulder back to the librarian’s house. The house stood empty. The curtains were open, showing no furniture or personal items were inside. I wasn’t even sure if I could get a hit off the energy with everything already gone. This sucked.

  “You know there’s more than one way to find something personal of hers.”

  My gaze snapped to Charlotte’s.

  “She had a job. Everyone takes personal items to their jobs, and even most people might talk about their husband or boyfriends to their co-workers. I would lay money that they might have more answers than these people.”

  “You’re brilliant.”

  “I have my moments.”

  “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

  “Might have saved yourself first and last month’s rent and a security deposit, not to mention having to meet all of these weird people. I don’t know about you, but they give me the willies.” She turned to look at me and let out a tired breath. “Can we leave now?”

  “Of course we can. I need to renew my library card.”

  Chapter 10

  I wasn’t going to take Charlotte with me to the library. The more I thought about what Mason had said, the more I was realizing that he was right. Not about all things, but about pulling my friends into danger. I sent her to the Lady Blue instead with the idea that she’d watch over things there. She’d been reluctant to go almost to the point of stomping back out to the gathering and announcing she was my lesbian lover.

  Logic prevailed when I explained I might need Insight up and running if I actually found something of Margarete’s I could use. She’d gone back, but under duress, and was adamant I be careful.

  I had a restless night and barely slept. I was a light sleeper anyway, but for every creak and unexplainable nose, I investigated. Once I’d even spotted Ava and her husband out walking on the sidewalk at midnight. My guides and inner voice weren’t screaming at me to run. I didn’t feel like I was in danger. It was a creepy vibe like the one I’d picked up on at the party. Maybe it was just my overactive imagination thinking one of these people was responsible for committing the heinous crime.

  I locked up and left my house with important errands on my mind. As I rode through the neighborhood, I could feel the eyes on me as I passed. The unique feeling that came with being watched. I slowly scanned each house and window, trying to locate the target of my unease, and yet there was nothing. No one out on the streets, no open windows, or even anything peeking from behind the slats. Yet the feeling was undeniable and unshakable.

  I turned out of the subdivision and drove the ten minutes into downtown where the library sat at the end of Main Street. I parked and stared up at the old building. The old red bricks were worn and crumbling. The concrete sidewalk up to the door was cracked and in need of replacing. I could only imagine what things looked like on the inside.

  A woman and group of younger kids carrying books came out of the door as I was about to enter. Each just chatted away about why their book was better than the ones the siblings had picked.

  I walked into the library and paused inside the door. Where the outside had been rundown, and in need of an overhaul, the inside looked like the Taj Mahal. Murals were painted on the high stone cathedral ceiling. There were three floors of railings and books. There was an old lady standing behind the checkout counter scanning books. I slowly walked around. Tables and computers were strategically placed around the room. A central clump of computers sat on a round table where patrons could go look up book locations. Men were on laptops, and women scanned the blurbs on the back of the books. It was typical library, even if the setup was grander than most I’d ever seen.

  An electrical energy filled the air, contradicting the quietness in the building. I loved places like this. Where things were never as they seemed.

  Portraits of the town’s librarians, past and present, lined the walls, surrounding the pictures of the library building when each had worked. I felt like I was stepping back in time the further I moved down the line until I got to the old-timey yellowing picture of when the first building was built on the land.

  “Incredible,” I whispered, wondering which building my Grammy Blue would have visited when she was a little girl.

  “Isn’t it?” A woman clutching books to her chest came up beside me to look at the pictures. “The history of this building and the librarians before me are rich with color and stories. Some might even suggest their ghosts linger and have never left.”

  “You work here?” I asked, glancing her way and realizing her picture wasn’t one on the wall.

  “Yep, I’m one of the lucky ones. I was hired a month ago. They haven’t added my picture to the wall yet. I have to be here for a year before they consider me a permanent employee.”

  “Oh,” I said, moving back down to the current librarians. I pointed to Margarete’s picture. “You replaced Margarete?”

  The librarian let out a sigh. “It’s hard to get a job as a librarian. Each librarian loves their job and normally stays so long in the position they retire from it. Poor Margarete wasn’t so lucky. It’s sad really. The patrons loved her and still come in asking for her by name. Even though she was only here six months, she still made an impression.”

  “If she wasn’t here a year, why is her picture on the wall?”

  “Since the newspapers and police think she’s dead and died as a librarian, she was given all the accolades that go with the job,” the woman announced as if it all made perfect sense.

  This chick was acting as if the women on the walls died while serving our country and gave their lives to do it.

  “What if she’s not dead?” I asked and glanced at the librarian.

  “I don’t know.” Her brows dipped. “I guess they’d take her picture down and I might lose my job. You don’t think that’s the case do you?” Her voice rose in tone.

  “I doubt they’d fire you without reason. They might just take her picture down.” I patted the woman’s arm to calm her down. The last thing I needed was to deal with a hysterical librarian who was afraid she might lose her job. “I barely knew Margarete, but I heard nice things about her. I heard she met her boyfriend here,” I lied.

  “Boyfriend?” the woman echoed. “No, I don�
�t think so. I had to clean out her desk, and there weren’t any pictures of a boyfriend. The only picture she had on her desk was of her and Mandy Stuart, her best friend, while on vacation.”

  “Have you met her best friend?”

  “Of course.” The woman smiled. “Mandy comes in here all the time to visit her mother, Glenda. She’s the head librarian.”

  “What did you do with the picture?” I asked as I continued walking farther out of ear shot from the old librarian. The last thing I needed was her asking who in the heck I was.

  “I think the police have her things,” she answered.

  “Thanks for your time. I’m just going to go look around and find something to read.”

  The hair on my nape prickled as I slowly scanned each level of the library. Someone was watching again. I could feel it to my core. Two men were across the room, both wearing dark pants and Hawaiian shirts. Neither of them looked like typical readers. Maybe husbands looking for some way to kill time? Or potential killers reading a how-to book?

  One had a magazine in his hand, flipping the pages; the other guy had his gaze locked on me.

  I slipped my phone out of my pocket and texted Mason. Mandy Stuart is the librarian’s best friend. Have you questioned her?

  Stop investigating, was the quick reply I received back. His demands made me smile. I think we both knew that his suggestion was just that… a suggestion.

  I need something personal of the librarian’s, and unless you give me something to work with, I have to find something myself. Besides...I think I’m onto something. I took a picture of the two men watching me and texted him that too.

  I didn’t wait around for his reply before I shoved the phone back into my pocket and headed straight for the two men, who were now scowling at me. Aw. Poor guys must be camera-shy.

  “Cree Blue,” I said and held out my hand.

  “We know who you are, Ms. Blue.”

  “Well, if you know who I am, why not level the playing field and tell me who you are?”

  The big six-foot-two man with the clean-shaved head grinned. “We’re your new bodyguards. I’m Freddie, and this here is George.”