Polly Iyer - Diana Racine 03 - Backlash

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by Polly Iyer


  “Why did he have to kill that poor, tortured soul? Samuel could have been protected in prison.”

  Lucier shook his head, his expression grim. “As much as I’d like to say that would be the case, I’m afraid he’d have been a target from day one, and he knew it.”

  Diana pushed her plate away. “You’re probably right.” She sighed. “I’ll tell Emile. He’ll want to know.”

  “Later. Right now, you’re going home. After you’ve rested, we need to talk.”

  “About what.”

  “Later.”

  “You can’t say something like that, then drop it. You just can’t.”

  “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “But you did. Now, what?”

  Lucier had been thinking about this for a while. Now seemed as good a time as any to get it out into the open. “I think it’s time we lived together. We’re with each other all the time anyway, and, well, I don’t want to be apart from you.”

  Diana remained motionless and speechless for an uncomfortably long time.

  Had he made a mistake?

  “I’ve thought the same thing, really, only I didn’t know if you were ready.” She reached across the table. “Until lately, I didn’t know if I was ready, but I am. One thing, though. I know you have a nice house, bigger than mine, but I can’t live in it. There are too many memories there that have nothing to do with me, and I would be uncomfortable.”

  “I know. Your house is fine, big enough for the two of us.”

  “What ― what if there are three of us?”

  He stared at her, unsure. “Are you saying ―”

  “No, no. But there could be if we wanted.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. There are bigger places all around the New Orleans’ area. Safe places with good schools, affordable on a cop’s salary, maybe a captain’s salary.”

  “Captain?”

  “I’m thinking about a suggestion the superintendent made. He wants me to consider taking the captain’s exam. I haven’t decided, but it’s a possibility.”

  “That’s fantastic, if that’s what you want.”

  “I’m not sure. I like being on the streets occasionally, and I’m not good at the politics of the police department. But I promised I’d think about it.”

  “Don’t forget, I have some money. More than some. If we’re partners, I’d expect to pull my share.”

  “We’ll discuss that too. Besides, you need me around to keep you out of trouble.”

  “We’ve been together for almost a year, and I still got into trouble. What’s more, I dragged you along with me.”

  Lucier reached his hand across the table and took hers. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be in trouble with, my love.”

  He drove her home. In the car, he said, “Now get some rest. Tonight is ours, yours and mine. Pick any restaurant in the city. I’ll be ready for a full course dinner.”

  “Any restaurant?”

  “Surprise me.” He walked her to her door, thinking about the last time he did. But this morning, there were no flying bullets, no blood. He held her tight and kissed her.

  “I’ve missed you, Ernie.”

  “I’m back.”

  “We’re back,” she said.

  * * * * *

  At the district, Lucier filled his team in on everything that happened at the hospital.

  “I’m still reeling over Captain Craven being our vigilante-in-chief,” Cash said.

  Beecher and Halloran grunted agreement.

  “And Miss Kitty,” Halloran said. “Snuffed by the captain. Kitty’s Kabaret won’t be the same.”

  Beecher, munching on carrot sticks, said, “I hate that. Miss Kitty was a true character. A New Orleans institution.”

  “Yes, she was, but don’t forget, her boots puts her at the trailer where a kid would have died if not for Diana and Willy. So don’t feel too sorry for her.” Lucier closed the file on his desk. “Diana said she’d talk to Emile. Miss Kitty’s last words were to tell him she loved him, now and forever, or something like that.”

  “If I were a sentimentalist, I’d shed a tear at that,” Beecher said. “But I’m not. Still, it’s kind of touching.”

  “My dad’s a chemist,” Cash said. “He always said for every action there’s a reaction. There sure was in this case.”

  “Stronger than a reaction,” Halloran said. “More like a deadly backlash, all beginning with a drunk driver and an auto accident.”

  How different Craven’s life would have been if that hadn’t happened. Lucier felt a deep sorrow for what might have been. After putting the folder in the file cabinet, he slipped on his jacket. “Finish up the paperwork, if you don’t mind. I have an errand to do.”

  “Sure thing, Boss,” Cash said. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  Lucier stopped, turned. “You guys did an amazing job. There isn’t a better team in all of New Orleans.”

  Thank you in three different voices responded.

  Lucier smiled and left the office. He stopped at a local shop to make a purchase before driving across town. Twenty minutes later, he parked his car in the lot of St. Catherine’s Living Center and strode inside. His nerves jangled, but he’d made a promise to himself. He approached the visitor’s desk.

  “I’m looking for MaryAnn Craven,” he said.

  The woman behind the desk frowned. “Are you family?”

  “A friend of the family”

  “Awful about the captain,” she said.

  “Yes, it is. May I see MaryAnn?”

  “You’ll have to see the director.”

  “Fine.”

  The receptionist made a call. Lucier couldn’t hear what she said, but in a moment, an attractive, middle-aged woman came through a door behind the station. Lucier introduced himself and explained what he wanted.

  After small talk about the captain, she said, “Right this way.”

  He followed the director into a large room. A television played a recent sit-com. Some adults watched the program, others chatted, still others sat staring into space.

  “That’s MaryAnn over there,” the woman said.

  MaryAnn Craven sat alone at a table, turning the pages of a colorful picture book. Lucier was taken aback by the sheer beauty of the young woman. With hair so blond it was almost white, she sparkled like a diamond in a box full of pebbles.

  The backlash from this child’s accident had set in motion the death and devastation of so many lives, including his, yet she remained an innocent, a perpetual child who’d never know the cost of her impairment. That was the only good thing to come out of the horror of her father’s wayward brand of justice.

  He watched her for a while as she turned the pages, pointing at the pictures. Would he have wanted one or all of his children to live like this had they survived the accident that had taken their lives and changed his irrevocably? Lucier didn’t have an answer.

  He put the thought in his mental file marked “Never Think of Again” and sauntered over to MaryAnn Craven. She looked up and smiled when he sat down in a chair next to her. Her large eyes were the clear blue of a perfect summer day.

  “Hello, MaryAnn. I’m a friend of your father’s.” He gently pushed aside a golden lock from her forehead and swallowed a lump in his throat. “I brought you some chocolates, then I’d like to read you a story.”

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Some People Need Killing

  Chapter Two

  The Cat Leaps Out of the Bag

  Chapter Three

  Here’s Looking at You, Kid

  Chapter Four

  Putting the Wheels in Motion

  Chapter Five

  The Scent of Blood

  Chapter Six

  The Chain Gang

  Chapter Seven

  The Famous Kid Psychic

  Chapter Eight

  Kitty’s Kabaret

  Chapter Nine

  A Man for All Seaso
ns

  Chapter Ten

  Playing God

  Chapter Eleven

  One on One

  Chapter Twelve

  Who’s the Boss?

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Blue Door

  Chapter Fourteen

  Pay Attention to the Hackles

  Chapter Fifteen

  A Little Kink

  Chapter Sixteen

  A Break in the Case

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Psychic’s Touch

  Chapter Eighteen

  Snookered

  Chapter Nineteen

  Who’s Afraid of Diana?

  Chapter Twenty

  What Do You Know, and When did You Know It?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  A Pattern

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Talk to Me

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Cemetery Plot Thickens

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  One More Time

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The Awakening

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Conflicted

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Bad Girl

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Planning a Plan

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The Hunch

  Chapter Thirty

  Against Doctor’s Orders

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The Worst Case Scenario

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Circling Birds

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  A Long, Long Nap

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  No Answer

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  A Losing Battle

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  A Bird’s Eye View

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Icarus

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  In the Nick of Time

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Euphoria

  Chapter Forty

  Off Limits No More

  Chapter Forty-One

  Into a Little Boy’s Mind

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Putting Three Heads Together

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Lucier’s Nadir

  Chapter Forty-Four

  One Down, Maybe

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Unexpected Visitor

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Ernie’s Voice

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  The Tail Wags the Dog

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Convincing the Team

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Ugly Rickett

  Chapter Fifty

  A Way Out

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Five Minutes, Maybe

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  You’re Dead!

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Who Knew?

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Deep Cover

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  And Then There Were None

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Different Agendas

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Coincidence?

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  If Only

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Out of the Deep, Dark Funk

  Chapter Sixty

  Scrabble and a Pizza

  Chapter Sixty-One

  The Crime Scene

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  David and a Wounded Goliath

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  A Hero No More

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  A Long Day

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  The Visits

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  The Consequence of Being Nosy

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  The Connection

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Home Again

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  The Pact

  Chapter Seventy

  The Obligation

  Chapter One

  The Performance

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Polly Iyer is the author of six suspense novels: Hooked, InSight, Murder Déjà Vu, Threads, and three books in the Diana Racine Psychic Suspense series, Mind Games, Goddess of the Moon, and Backlash. Her books contain adult language and situations with characters who sometimes tread ethical lines. A former artist, she grew up on the Massachusetts coast and now makes her home in South Carolina.

  Learn more about Polly and her books at

  www.PollyIyer.com

  In case you're coming into the series late,

  the following is an excerpt from

  Mind Games,

  the first in the

  Diana Racine Psychic Suspense series.

  I hope you enjoy it.

  Chapter One

  The Performance

  Diana Racine, Fraud of the Century

  That was the headline in the morning’s Times-Picayune. She’d heard the accusation since she was a child. Charlatan in Miami, carny huckster in Detroit, and a dangerous witch in Boston. Others had called her a hustler, schemer, faker, pretender, gypsy, quack, phony, and scamster. That last was from Vegas. Totally biased reporting there.

  They were all right. She was a fraud. And a damn good one too. A thirty-three-year old, five-foot-two bundle of fraud.

  To a point.

  Well here I am, people of New Orleans. Judge for yourselves.

  She peeked around the curtain at the filled-to-capacity crowd, blew a curl off her forehead, and smoothed her skirt. After massaging her neck to loosen the tight muscles, she drew a deep breath, let it out slowly. They’re just people, Diana. You’ve done this a thousand times before. She stepped onto the stage to the welcome sound of applause.

  After a few minutes of waves, smiles, and some audience banter that passed for warm-up, she picked out a cute guy in the first row. “What about you, handsome? Are you ready to be spooked?” She bent down closer to him and dropped her voice into her sexiest register. “Care to have your innermost secrets exposed to this raucous crowd?

  “I’m ready for anything with you, Diana.” He reached out for her, nearly making contact. “In fact, you can take me home and find out everything about me.”

  The audience burst into laughter and applause. Diana threw back her head, tossing her mane of shiny black curls, and laughed along with the others. Waggling her finger at him as she strutted backward on high heels, she said, “Uh-oh, I better stay away from you. You could put an end to my act.”

  She teased a few others before scanning the crowd and randomly chose a chunky, red-faced woman from the third row, coaxing her to come onstage. Random to everyone but Diana.

  “You don’t have to if you’d rather not,” she said to the woman. “And you can stop the reading at any time. No problem.”

  After hemming and hawing, the woman went into a huddle with her husband for a minute.

  The crowd spurred her on.

  “Oh, go ahead,” one man shouted.

  Another voice rang out. “Scaredy cat.”

  The woman chewed her lip. “Oh, why the hell not?” She rose from her seat. “I have no secrets.”

  Perfect.

  The sparse stage displayed two wooden chairs and a café table containing a pitcher of water, tissues, and a stack of plastic cups. As the woman approached, Diana detected the stale smell of cigarettes.

  “Please, have a seat and relax.”

  “Yeah, right,” the woman said sarcastically. She eyed the water.

  “You’re thirsty,” Diana said. “Nothing telepathic. Just an observation.” The woman’s lips twitched into a tight smile. Diana poured a cup of water and handed it to her. “All set?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. A little nervous, that’s all.”

  “No need to be.” She took the other chair. “If you wish, you can tell me your name.”

  “Oh, I thought you’d tell me.” The woman chuckled, and scattered sounds of amusement rose from the dimmed the
ater. Diana joined in with a smile. She searched the faceless crowd and shrugged, as if she’d never before heard the comment. “Well, that’s a new one. A subject turning the tables. I have to admit, you have me stumped.” Elsie Cavanaugh.

  “Elsie. Elsie Cavanaugh,” the woman responded.

  “Okay, Elsie. You managed the first surprise of the evening, now let me hold your hands and see whether I can surprise you, okay?”

  Elsie sucked in a deep breath, let it out in a huff, and reached her hand across the table. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  The audience went dead silent. Diana felt their expectation. She took Elsie’s hands in hers, closed her eyes, and let some time pass before she spoke in a voice everyone could hear. “You have a child who’s away and you’re worried. A young man, right? Answer yes or no. Nothing more.”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s in his early twenties.” Not too hard to figure for a woman her age. The young man part would have been a fifty-fifty chance, if I were guessing.

  “Yes, that’s right. He’s ―”

  Diana’s eyes flared open. “Please don’t say anything before I finish.” Elsie nodded and Diana closed her eyes again. “I see a uniform. He’s in the military ―”

  “How did you know that?”

  “And stationed overseas. The Middle East, I believe.” Thank you, phone records.

  Elsie’s bottom lip quivered. “Oh, dear God, is he all right? I haven’t heard from him in weeks.”

  Diana opened her eyes. “He’s fine, fine. Missing you. I think you’ll hear from him soon.” General information. Law of averages.

  Tears filled Elsie’s eyes. “Oh, thank you. I’ve been so worried.” Sporadic applause drifted throughout the theater, along with the obvious intakes of breath, signifying either belief or skepticism.

  “Are you all right, Elsie?” Diana asked. “Would you like a moment to gather yourself?” She poured more water into Elsie’s glass and her own. The stage lights seemed especially brilliant tonight. Sweat dripped down her back. Both sipped their water.

  “That’s better,” Elsie said, plucking a tissue from the box and wiping her cheeks. “Go on.”

  Diana slipped back into meditation mode, waiting long enough to pique interest before speaking. After all, she was an actress, and the believability of her performance was as much a part of her act as the revelations she imparted.

 

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