A Mansion, A Drag Queen, And A New Job (Deanna Oscar Paranormal Mystery, #1)

by CC Dragon

  I closed my eyes and saw a few flashes. One was a house, but it was too far away. I couldn’t see a street name or numbers. Before I could move in, my brain flashed to a car. That sea foam green thing again. It had fins and was as big as a boat. I didn’t want to look at cars. I wanted to find the little girl. “Damn it!”

  “What?” she asked.

  “I keep seeing this car. It doesn’t mean anything to the case. It’s just a car but it keeps showing up.”

  “You’re sure?” she asked.

  “Yes, I can see it. It’ll replace the Jeep. Good, fine, whatever. Why can’t I see the killer? Or the next victim? I swear it’s Warren causing interference.” I opened my eyes when the picture wouldn’t change.

  “Warren could be causing trouble. The girls might be able to help you with him. Have a little more patience.” Gran looked at her shrine. “You don’t have to leave this up, you know. I’ll always be with you.”

  “I haven’t really had a chance to take it down or ask you where you want your ashes spread. The garden maybe?” I felt bad it’d been sitting so long but I hadn’t exactly been sightseeing.

  She looked at her picture and the urn and shook her head. “No, I want to be out more. Out in the swamp area, somewhere more real.”

  “Really? Why?” I didn’t know why I was surprised. Nothing around here ever ended up as I expected. It did keep things interesting though.

  “Under the stars and in the real Louisiana.” She smiled. “Why not? I can be anywhere I want. What does it matter where a pile of ashes ends up? You decide.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “You’ll know the spot. But I should go now. You have company.” She smiled at me.

  As Gran vanished the doorbell rang. Ivy hadn’t returned and was probably still sedated from her encounter with the storeroom contents. Greg’s car hadn’t been out front either. It was Missy or I for answering the door, and I was the better choice.

  I approached the door with caution. The nice thing about being psychic was I already knew it wasn’t a gaggle of reporters coming to harass me.

  But I was still uneasy about who was on the other side of my door. I looked through the peephole to make sure my psychic skill hadn’t failed me. It was Cecelia. Little Cel’s grandmother had come to see me.

  Steadying my nerves, I opened the door. “Hello.”

  “You probably don’t remember me,” she began unsteadily.

  “Of course I do, Cecelia. Come in.” I stood back and led her into the second parlor. I didn’t want her to be faced with Gran’s shrine. She’d had enough death in her life.

  The second parlor was fine for the evenings anyway. The windows faced full east. It also had a large array of elegant furniture and no ashes in it. “Can I get you anything?” I offered.

  “No, dear, you’re so sweet. I found out today, on the news.”

  “Found out what?”

  “That you were the one who found my little girl’s body. I made the police admit it too. I had to thank you. I recognized you from my cab. I never forget a nice customer. You even warned me about watching her.” She started crying hard into her lace hanky.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t help more. I’m not as good as my grandmother.” It was confession time. I wish I knew why I couldn’t stop the murders.

  For now, I needed to ignore the fact that I’d been on the news in New Orleans. I just hoped it didn’t get on America’s Most Wanted. Dad was always on the lookout for a chance to turn in one of his neighbors. I couldn’t deal with that yet.

  “It’s not your fault.” She patted my arm and sat on the large white couch.

  I sat next to her and wondered how I’d react if it were someone in my family. I doubted I could be so generous. “I wish I could’ve prevented both murders.”

  “You’re not God. Can’t expect to be everywhere.” She dabbed her eyes.

  “I can’t help thinking I could’ve done more to warn you.”

  “You found my baby so we can bury her proper. And I’m grateful. I know you’ll do all you can to find that evil man. I just wanted you to have this.” She pulled a prayer card from her oversized white purse. “I just approved these with the funeral home. Wanted you to have one of the first. You look after my Little Cel, now.”

  “Thank you, I will.” I glanced down at the card. St. Francis was on the front and the usual information and prayers were on the back.

  “Little Cel loved her animals. That’s why we picked that saint for her. Not as much as she loved that doll, though. Had it since she was a baby.”

  “You got the doll at a garage sale, didn’t you?”

  “You’re good. Yep, soon as I heard my little girl was expecting, I hit a garage sale in a nice neighborhood. Good quality stuff, no junk. Little Cel stuck to that doll like glue.” Cecelia smiled, reliving happier memories.

  “Was she ever afraid of it?”

  “All kids go through a phase of being afraid of the dark. Sometimes I’d find the doll on the floor, but I expect she got scared and threw it. She never wanted any other doll, though. That was her baby.”

  “She sounds very sweet.” Little Cel had a strong will, that’s the only way she’d be able to handle that doll so well and for so long.

  “She was sweet. Only those cops won’t give us her doll back. We wanted to bury Little Cel with it. Damn cops say it’s still evidence.” She started crying again, silently this time. Tears of deep pain rolled down her clenched jaw.

  “I’m sorry, but it is evidence. The dolls are what connect the murders. Until we catch the killer and put him away, I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do.”

  “I know. Cops are cops. Can’t worry about the victims when the criminals are on the loose. It’s their job. The funeral is only a few days away. I don’t expect it’ll be settled by then.” She looked hopeful.

  “No, I’m sorry. I don’t see that happening. But once it’s over, you can always put the doll in later. I know it’s not the same but it’d be with Little Cel then.” It was the best I could suggest.

  “Thanks. I’ll make sure to get my baby’s doll back when this is all over. Don’t you worry, I will.” She got to her feet. “I’m sorry I took up so much of your time. I just wanted to thank you again, and if you can make the service it’d mean a lot to me. And to Little Cel, I’m sure.”

  “I’ll do my best to be there.” I had to be. I’d never forgive myself if I weren’t there.

  “Thank you.” She held my hands in hers and I felt a positive jolt. Little Cel took after her grandmother. No wonder Warren’s haunting hadn’t really bothered Little Cel too much.

  I walked Cecelia out and closed the door.

  I shut my eyes and tried to see the third victim again. I was getting past Warren’s tricks. I had the start and it was improvement. Practice, I need to practice more, and focus harder. But the house disappeared and another image popped into my head.

  That damn car! All I got was the car. I’d had it.

  I marched to the kitchen and grabbed the phone. I dialed Matt’s cell number.

  “Yeah?” He sounded stressed and I wouldn’t be helping his blood pressure, but I had to get this out.

  “If you come across a mint-condition sea foam greenish-color convertible from the late Fifties, early Sixties, it’s mine. Just let me know, okay?” I blurted.

  “What the hell are you babbling about?” he asked. “Someone steal your car?”

  “No, I don’t have it yet. I can’t get this picture out of my head. It’s got fins and big headlights. White inside and bucket front seats. I just needed to tell someone so I can stop thinking about it. You’ll find it and when you do, I’ll buy it.” I sounded insane. I had to try something to get it out of my head.

  “Sure. I’ll put all the murder cases on hold to find you a car.” He snorted into the phone.

  “I’m not asking for that. Just when the police come across it, don’t let anyone else have it. It’s mine. Okay?” I did have a secret love of old c
ars. Especially big convertibles. Chicago was no place for a convertible year-round.

  “Fine, just don’t be late for the meeting with the judge tomorrow. My little brother is anxious to see you again.”

  “I’ll be there. Bye.” I hung up and tried to clear my head. My life right now was certainly nothing I’d expected.

  And maybe, just maybe, having that car out on Matt’s radar instead of in my head would free up my few operating brain cells long enough for me to find Darren and Warren’s next victim before they did.

  Until then all I had to do was meet with the judge, John Weathers, tomorrow. That would be no hardship. One of these days I would network with the women at The Third Eye but first I had to convince the law to believe me about Darren.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I still think he’s awfully young to be a judge.” I nosed around the judge’s desk. Now Matt and I were waiting for the judge. I’d been on time and dressed to impress in my soft gray suit and lilac blouse.

  Since there was little chance of swamp tours, I’d switched to my black high heels. I’d borrowed a medium black suede bag from Gran. I wasn’t leaving the doll home alone. Warren might stage another breakout attempt.

  Matt eased himself down onto the brown leather couch. “He’s thirty-five. Not so young and not a bad guy to know. Johnny always had a baby face.”

  “I still don’t know why I’m here. We’re going to catch Darren.” I hadn’t found the third girl yet, but I was closing in. Getting better at getting around Warren.

  “You’re pretty insecure for a psychic.” He grinned.

  “It’s more of a disadvantage than an advantage in social situations, or so I’m finding when it’s public knowledge. It makes people uneasy.” I picked up a picture on the desk. It showed Mrs. Lolly Weathers surrounded by her three boys. “At least I’ve met him before.”

  “Doesn’t hurt.”

  “You never told me why we really have to do this.” I had never gotten a real answer.

  “Politics. Southern manners. Show of good faith.” Matt shrugged.

  “Fine.” I didn’t really mind but it felt weird. This wasn’t a university position interview. Those I knew how to handle.

  “You haven’t given any press interviews since the body recovery, have you?” Matt asked.

  “Of course not. I could strangle Big Bud for that.”

  “Who needs enemies with friends like those, huh?” He snorted.

  “At least the reporters aren’t bugging me too much.” Only a few phone calls that I’d ignored.

  “Why would they? You think a psychic is all that special here? If you’re proven right on all counts, then maybe you’ll get special attention.”

  “Fair enough.” I glanced at my favorite silver bracelet watch with the lavender face. “Is your brother being fashionably late?”

  “Not likely. The judge wanted to see you. Come on, Doc, you know my little brother’s got a thing for you.”

  I tried not to let my head jerk up and instead rolled my eyes. “I’ve only met him once. Don’t be stupid.” I didn’t need more complications.

  “Besides, she isn’t psychic about herself, remember?” The judge’s voice came from behind me.

  Oh shit! And damn Matt for his mouth. “Right. It really isn’t fair.”

  “Most people would kill for half of your powers.” Judge Weathers crossed to his desk.

  “They can be distracting,” I warned.

  “How so?” he asked.

  “Take Mary Lou’s dinner party, for instance. There was a ghost hanging out behind you. She didn’t say anything but it was hard to not be rude and try to find out why she was there.” I smiled.

  “A ghost in the house?” Matt sounded concerned. “Is it dangerous?”

  “No, she’s not stuck here or anything. Just seemed to be observing.”

  “Is she a relative?” the judge asked.

  “I didn’t get to talk to her. But she looked like you.” I studied the judge. Not bad to look at.

  “Mom’s sister? Aunt Sarah maybe?” Matt wondered out loud.

  “Not like Lolly, like him.” I pointed to the judge.

  The brothers exchanged looks as though they weren’t sure what I was talking about. I took a deep breath. “I know you’re all adopted. Lolly raised you, but I could feel the biological variations at dinner that night. I think this ghost is related to the judge by blood.”

  As if on cue, the woman from the dinner party appeared. “Don’t upset him,” she said.

  “I’m not. He knows he was adopted,” I replied.

  “Who are you talking to?” the judge asked.

  “The ghost from the dinner party just joined us,” I explained.

  “She ever do this to you before?” the judge asked his brother.

  Matt shook his head. “Dr. Oscar, please stop freaking out my brother. Can’t you chat with ghosts on your own time? We’ve got a goal here.”

  “You see?” the ghost added.

  “They’ll get over it. Who are you?” I asked.

  She pressed her transparent lips together.

  “Come on, you showed up for a reason. If you want him to know who you are, I’m your best chance.” I sat down in one of the judge’s guest chairs. It felt like family therapy and if I could help—I would.

  “I don’t want to make things worse. I just like to see him.” She smiled softly.

  “You’re his birth mother, aren’t you?” I asked.

  “She’s what?” Matt jumped off the couch. “Cut it out. Don’t play games.”

  “Shut up, Matt,” the judge cut in.

  “Why don’t you go ask the judge’s secretary out to dinner?” I suggested to Matt.

  Matt gave me a startled look, but he knew I knew he’d been thinking more about her than anything going on in this office. He had a crush but hadn’t acted on it. Just the diversion for him that I needed.

  Matt slid off the couch and then paused. I nodded to further encourage him.

  The door closed behind Matt and I looked back at the judge. “Did I freak you out?”

  He sat in his chair. “No, but I’d like to know if it’s true. Is she my birth mother?”

  The ghost nodded.

  “Yes,” I relayed.

  “Can you describe her?” His jaw tightened.

  “Tall, brown hair and pale blue eyes. Bone structure is pretty delicate. Did you ever try to find her?” It was none of my business, but part of me had to ask.

  He nodded. “I never found anything.”

  “There was nothing to find,” she said.

  “I don’t understand. What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Paula Schaffer. But I was a Jane Doe when I died.”

  I repeated the info to the judge and waited.

  “No wonder I couldn’t find any info on her. A Jane Doe, really?” he asked.

  “I was very young and living on the street, when I got pregnant. I tried to stay off the drugs when I was pregnant, but once I had him, I couldn’t help it. I knew I’d never make a good mother. I left him at the hospital.”

  “Wouldn’t the hospital have a record of your name? They should’ve known where to find you.”

  “I didn’t have him at a hospital. I gave birth at a friend’s apartment. Her brother, a paramedic, was there. I wasn’t completely irresponsible.”

  I wanted to argue but held my tongue. There was no point.

  “The next day I convinced the paramedic to take the baby to the hospital. He said he found it while driving waiting for a call. I felt terrible, but it was the right thing to do.”

  I told the judge all of it and watched him stoically contemplate it. “When did she die? How?”

  “Three days after he was born. I overdosed. It’d been too long, and I couldn’t handle the same hit I did before. But I wanted it.” Paula watched her son carefully.

  Again, I was the go-between. Then it hit me, this was my first real medium effort, of sorts. It was as personal as therapy and ye
t the judge really had to trust me.

  “Is she okay?” he asked. “She’s not hanging around here all the time, is she?”

  “No, she isn’t stuck here.” I knew that much on my own.

  “I’m fine. I hung around more when he was little, but when I saw you here. I wanted to let him know it was for the best. And that I’m proud of him.” She moved closer to her son, the judge.

  When I finished with her story, the judge took a deep breath. “Tell her I’m fine and thank you.”

  “You just did.” I smiled as Paula’s face brightened with relief. Then she vanished. “She’s gone. You okay?”

  “I’m fine. I never expected our meeting to go like this though.”

  “Neither did I, but I tend to attract them. Ghosts try to communicate with the living, but it’s tricky.”

  “Guess Matt did a good thing keeping you on this case.” The judge leaned back in his chair.

  “I hope I’m helping. The killers are really out of control.” I hadn’t seen Warren lately and it made me nervous.

  “The ghost can’t really be considered a killer,” he corrected.

  “No,” I conceded. “But he needs help as much as Darren, or neither will ever be at peace.”

  “You care about the killers being at peace?” He looked only slightly surprised.

  “Someone has to. Their parents certainly didn’t. Don’t worry. My first priority is getting Darren behind bars, so he can’t hurt people. But I would like to try to help him. He’s too dependent on his brother.”

  “And you’re sure you’ll catch him?”

  I got the bag and produced the final doll. “We’ll get him before he gets the third girl, but he’s planning to come for me either way.”

  “Do you know where the last girl is?”

  “I’m almost there. Getting closer. The first victim is talking. Hopefully she’ll help me find the last girl before Darren does.”

  “Why is it taking so long?” He didn’t sound impatient, more inquisitive.

  “Death requires some adjustment. Victims aren’t immediately able to communicate or visit. Plus this was a very traumatic death. We’re just lucky they didn’t get stuck here. It’s all very organized.” I needed all the help I could get.