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.