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

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A Mansion, A Drag Queen, And A New Job (Deanna Oscar Paranormal Mystery, #1) Page 20

by CC Dragon


  “Matt!” I shouted.

  If I didn’t know better I’d say he was high or really drunk. He’d broken through glass and seemed oblivious to the fact that he was badly cut. The window hadn’t even been locked.

  Darren grabbed me by the shoulders, pulling me off the bed. Now Becky was totally vulnerable. He pushed me up against the wall. Darren didn’t say a word. He looked at me as though I didn’t really exist. I could’ve been a lamp in his way.

  I made eye contact and he stopped for a moment. I realized that handling the ghost wasn’t the answer. I had to handle Darren somehow. Make him believe he was stronger than his twin brother. “You don’t have to do this, Darren. You’re the one in control of your actions, not Warren.”

  Matt, several cops and John plowed through the door. For a second it felt like a movie. Guns cocked in unison from the area of the door. Did they practice that in the academy?

  “Don’t shoot,” I managed as Darren’s hands restricted my air supply.

  “Let her go,” Matt yelled.

  “Get Becky out.” I made eye contact with the girl.

  She listened and John disappeared with her.

  “The family is out, Doc,” Matt said.

  “Get all of them out of here,” Warren insisted as he appeared over his brother’s back.

  “Out!” Darren yelled at the cops.

  “Not going to happen, kid. Let her go.” Matt took a step closer instead.

  “Maybe if we kill you, there will be no one to stop us?” Warren pondered while looking me in the eye.

  “Darren, you don’t have to kill anyone. You don’t have to hurt people. I know you don’t really want to.” I felt his grip on my throat loosen a bit.

  “Sure, but if he doesn’t, he’ll still end up dead by all those police out there. And if he doesn’t kill you, I’ll never speak to him again. He’ll be alone forever.” Warren knew exactly how to stir up his brother.

  Darren’s hands on my neck went from loose to crushing. Then he pulled up until I was on the tiptoes of my shoes wishing I’d gone for the heels. I gasped for air.

  “I can help you,” I rasped.

  Darren was listening and his grip backed off a bit. But Warren clearly didn’t approve. His energy level spiked and the bedside lamp that wasn’t even turned on exploded, sending glass flying.

  “How the hell did you do that?” John asked.

  “That’s Warren,” I said. “We’re stronger than him, Darren.”

  “No, you’re not,” Warren shouted. “You’re nothing without me. You don’t deserve to live. Neither does she.”

  Darren’s hands tightened around my neck and I sunk my nails into his hands again, trying to free myself. I wondered if my first attempt at psychic crime solving would be my last.

  My nails dug into his hands. I heard him swear and felt his hands release me. I didn’t care what had happened. Free, I kneed him in the crotch and pushed.

  “Clear,” Matt shouted.

  I heard a shot. Darren fell to the ground, screaming in pain.

  “I told you not to shoot,” I gasped.

  “He’s not dead. We used a Taser dart.” Matt waved for two of the officers to drag Darren off. “Read him his rights as soon as he comes to.”

  “Good thinking.” I took some deeper breaths. Glancing down at my nails, I realized one of them had been exceptionally sharp.

  “We’re good for some things. If I’d had a clean shot, we’d have popped him. But that lamp thing was weird.” Matt walked over to examine the evidence.

  “You’ll pay for this.” Warren stood with his little fists clenched over his brother’s body.

  “Darren won’t be free to do your work anymore, Warren. Go play or something.” I rubbed my neck as I walked out of the bedroom to find Becky.

  “Are you okay?” John asked.

  “Fine.” It wasn’t technically a lie. I wasn’t seriously hurt. That was the first time anyone had every tried to kill me. If I stayed in New Orleans, I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be the last.

  “Becky’s okay?” I asked.

  “With her parents. We’ve got them stashed at a safe house a block up. Plus, now we’ve got the doll for evidence.” Matt had it in a clear plastic bag. “And we found a knife on Darren.”

  “A confession won’t be a problem.” I knew Darren was itching to be stopped. So long as he didn’t appear disloyal to his brother.

  “We’ve got him on attempted murder of you, if nothing else.” John inspected my neck.

  I took a half step back. “I’m fine. I just need a little air.” It was a lame excuse considering the breeze from the broken window, but I went out the front door. I needed to be out of that house.

  The cops looked at me but no one said anything. Darren was lying in a squad car with his head against the window. Warren appeared sitting on the car trunk.

  “He’ll never get rid of me. You can’t do it. We’re twins. Twins! This is the way it has to be.” He didn’t look angry or defeated at all. More matter-of-fact.

  I didn’t respond.

  Warren disappeared and reappeared in the car with his brother. The bottom line was, Darren couldn’t hurt anyone else. Warren might be impossible to change but Darren’s life wasn’t over. Somehow Darren would have to learn to resist Warren and his own guilt. Why hadn’t he gotten over it younger?

  I’d had enough of Warren’s drama. I’d never felt more relieved. Warren had no reason to bother us anymore.

  We’d achieved the ultimate goal, I reminded myself. Protecting the victim. Not everyone could be fixed. I harbored a tiny bit of hope for Darren.

  That was the psychologist in me. Whatever help he’d gotten wasn’t enough. If we knew why—maybe then it could be changed. Or that knowledge could be used to help others. The cops wanted an arrest. I wanted the why.

  “Come on, Doc.” Matt waved for me to join him.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “The serious cases all went via ambulance, Darren stabbed two bystanders and a tree fell on another group. Think that was your ghost’s handiwork. I’ll let the judge take you to the ER.”

  “No, I’m fine, Matt.” My throat did hurt. Swallowing wasn’t a pleasant experience, but it hardly warranted a hospital run. My brothers had done more damage to each other on their best days of sibling rivalry.

  “Sorry. You were injured on scene, you’ve got to be cleared or we could be liable. No refusing it.” He was blowing hot air to cover his ass.

  “Fine.” I could refuse to go. On the other hand, I wasn’t ready to go home. Warren might be waiting to get back at me. Nor did I want to sit down with Darren just yet. The hospital seemed like the safe alternative.

  John and I got in his car. Resting my head on the plush leather headrest, I closed my eyes. Part of me did want to go home. Talk with Gran. Something.

  “Don’t lose it on me now. We’ll get you checked out.” He sounded concerned.

  “I’m exhausted.” I touched my tender neck. I’d have some pretty bruises tomorrow.

  “Darren won’t bother anyone again. You did it.” He gave my hand an encouraging squeeze.

  I looked down at my hands. “I ruined my new nails.” The nail on my right hand ring finger still had blood on it. I’d broken the nail on a thumb and middle finger. Both were beginning to sting. “Maybe I need to tell Violet to make them less sharp next time.”

  “Didn’t hurt for tonight. Those things are weapons.” John produced a handkerchief and wiped my bloody nails.

  His touch made me want to curl up on his shoulder only I didn’t have the energy to make a move.

  The hospital was close by. I refused to have him drop me at the ER door, where they’d probably wheel me in like an injured person. Instead, he parked and we walked through the doors like normal people.

  The paperwork was as bad as any hospital. John was kept in the waiting room while Matt was pacing, asking about his men.

  “Well, Dr. Oscar. Didn’t think I’d see you again s
o soon.” The voice was familiar but I couldn’t place it. Then Cecelia’s son, Dan, came around the corner.

  “Me either. I’m fine, really.” It was nice to see a familiar face.

  “That’s what they all say,” he said. “Someone tried to strangle you?”

  “The cops got him.”

  “The killer?” Dan’s voice dropped to a serious tone.

  “That’s the guy. He’s behind bars now.” It was nice to say that. The reality was only beginning to sink in for me. Darren was off the streets. That would mean something to the two families.

  “Good. My mama will be relieved.” He pulled out a tongue depressor. “Now let’s take care of you. Open.”

  I obeyed. My throat didn’t hurt on the inside much.

  “It hurts when you swallow?” Dan felt my neck. I flinched involuntarily. Hands around my neck never made me nervous before, but Darren had given me a new phobia—strangulation was not a nice thing.

  I nodded. “Doesn’t hurt to talk though.”

  “Just bruised. We could x-ray if you want, but nothing feels broken or swollen. If it gets worse or you can’t eat, come back.”

  “Told you it was nothing, Matt.” I called to him.

  “Good. You can go.” Matt came up from behind. I needed to pay attention. The psychic skills weren’t always on. “Darren will be under interrogation for a while. We can get your statement in the morning. You can talk to him then. Think he’ll confess?”

  “I think he already has.” I looked down at my watch. It was frozen at midnight. The battery had died, that was my first thought. More likely, Warren had gotten too close and shorted out the battery just like he’d exploded the lamp.

  “I’d really like to go.”

  I signed a bunch of papers at the desk and found John. “Where to?” he asked.

  “Home. I need to sleep in my own bed for a change.” I finally relaxed as I sat in the car.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I arrived at the jail early the next morning. My mood was tense. Somehow I knew this would be another challenge. If I ended up staying and doing this sort of stuff regularly, I’d have to get used to this feeling.

  Matt spotted me as soon as I entered. “Morning, Doc.”

  “Hi, Matt.” I shifted my weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. “How did Darren do last night?”

  “He’s alive. We kept him isolated. Prisoners tend to look down on the ones who’ve hurt kids. The guy confessed, like you said he would. Let’s go, more privacy.” Matt pointed to a small table in a smallish room that looked like an interrogation room. I sat, knowing it wouldn’t be quick.

  Two hours later, Matt and I were done with my statement—ghosts and all. “I’ll have Darren brought into the room. He’ll be handcuffed. There will be an officer right outside the door. Don’t touch him or let him get near you. We’ll get you outfitted afterward.”

  “Outfitted?” I asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  I had Darren too much on my mind to wonder what Matt was up to. I went back in and sat down. Ten minutes later the man, who not ten hours ago had his hands around my throat, was seated opposite me. The fear slid over my skin because of last night. The man in front of me didn’t want to hurt me anymore.

  “How are you doing, Darren?” I asked.

  He shrugged, refusing to look me in the eye. The feeling I got from Darren was completely different. No malice or fear or concern. He wasn’t arrogant either, just didn’t seem to care about his future.

  “I know Warren isn’t here. I can see him. I know you aren’t crazy. I know what he’s done to you. He’s the one who wanted me and the girls dead. Not you.” I wasn’t one to give up on a patient.

  “So? Not gonna stop him.” Darren finally spoke. “Nothing will.”

  “We can try. Like it or not, you’re going to be locked up for the rest of your life. Your hands killed those girls, not Warren’s. With your mental history, they’ll never let you out. What have you got to lose by talking to me? It won’t hurt,” I promised.

  “I don’t know, lady. I don’t want to lose my brother. Never not had him, except right before they let me out. He told me I had to be good to get out. He knew I couldn’t kill or be killed inside a juvey psych ward. Warren wanted me out, so I got out. I knew he’d be waiting for me. Warren gets his way, eventually. He wants me dead too.”

  “No one is going to kill you, Darren. They’ll review your history and find you’re not a candidate for the death penalty. You’ll end up in another mental hospital at best. At worst it’ll be prison. You won’t be able to hurt anyone else. However you’ll be stuck with Warren unless we work on this.”

  “He wanted the cops to kill me.” Darren stared at the ceiling.

  “I know he’s still a child. Warren is selfish in a lot of ways. I’m willing to work with you on this, Darren. You can learn to block him out. Make your own decisions. Two two-hour sessions a week is a good start. You can be strong enough to block Warren and be free. The first step is learning to trust someone other than Warren. What have you got to lose?” I asked.

  Darren’s face flinched. He didn’t believe it was possible but he didn’t have an argument. Even worse, he didn’t want to lose his brother. “Got nothing better to do in here.” That was as close to a yes as I was going to get.

  “Okay. We may have to wait until you’ve been sentenced. Just remember that Warren won’t be able to make you hurt anyone else.” I didn’t want to push too far on our first conversation so I left it at that.

  Darren didn’t really believe me. And with Warren around, I couldn’t blame him. No doubt, Warren would put other ideas in his head. Damn little homicidal ghost!

  John and Matt were waiting for me. “Hi.” Something was up and that didn’t take any psychic readings. It was written on their faces.

  “Well?” John asked.

  I exhaled slowly. “He’s willing to have sessions. Not sure he wants to give up his brother, but he has to learn to think for himself.”

  “Why are you wasting your time on a lifer?” Matt asked.

  “This is what I do. Lifer or not. I hate losing a patient.” I folded my arms defiantly.

  Matt rolled his eyes and lined up three cans of pepper spray on the counter. “You’re going to be trouble, Doc. Car, person and house.”

  “What’s this for? This is your idea of outfitting me with equipment?” I scoffed. “I did my share of clinical time with criminals. This is standard issue when dealing with those patients. Works pretty good too.” I’d been groped at, gawked at and once had to use pepper spray on a deceptively strong little pervert. The stuff worked but you could get it anywhere.

  “Good, you don’t need training then.” Matt wasn’t impressed.

  “What exactly is this about?” I asked.

  “A job,” Matt explained.

  “A job? With you? What would I do for you guys?” I was feeling very skeptical.

  “You’d work for the police department. Unsolved cases, no leads. And anything else you pick up on. Plus, I might ask you to interview the odd witness or suspect, our own little lie detector. Might not be admissible, but at least we won’t be chasing our tails.” Matt was serious.

  I thought it over. “I can try to help them though? Once they’re caught. I don’t have to be some impartial cop or anything?”

  Matt shifted his weight. “First priority is always catching the criminal. Protecting the innocent. You might be needed for a witness, like with Darren. He tried to kill you. If he pleaded not guilty, we’d have to put you on the stand. But if you wanna head shrink ‘em after we’ve got ‘em, go ahead. If you want to baby ghosts with therapy, none of us will give a crap.”

  “Fair enough.” I wasn’t getting a supportive feel. “Keeping the living alive is the most important thing. Can I think about it and let you know?”

  Matt put a manila folder on the counter. “Lots of stuff to consider. Read it. Call me if you have any questions.”

  “Okay.” I s
lipped the folder under my arm and looked at the three cans. “So I’m really supposed to do this stuff armed only with pepper spray?”

  John cleared his throat and handed me a card indicating I was now legal to carry a concealed weapon in the state of Louisiana. “I had them waive the six-month residency requirement since that’s the only stipulation you don’t meet. It’d be a good idea to take some classes or something before you carry. Sign it and we’ll get it laminated.”

  I studied the card. “Permit to carry? Louisiana is going to let me carry a gun?”

  John nodded. “You needed something when Darren busted through the window. And if you’re going to work for Matt or not, you’ll need to be responsible for your own safety at times. We didn’t pull any special strings. Matt can arrange shooting lessons.”

  “What makes you think I need them?” I asked.

  “I forgot about the snake,” Matt mumbled.

  “Snake?” John asked.

  I grinned. “I thought it’d be in the police report. When I found Little Cel’s body, a snake got in the way and I had to shoot it. I can’t believe it’s this easy to get a permit. In Illinois it’s almost impossible to get a permit to carry unless you’re a cop. Lucky for me, my grandfather owned a gun shop. I can shoot almost anything. His idea of an after-school program. I can carry whether I take the job or not?”

  “It’s a civilian permit but you’ve got to keep it concealed. We’ll give you an employee ID in addition to the permit, assuming you come to work for us,” Matt explained.

  “Good. I feel like shopping. Is that it for now?” I asked.

  John smiled. “That’s it. I’ve got to go to a few meetings. I’ll pick you up after lunch. I know a good gun shop.”

  “See you then.” I piled into the Jeep with a permit to carry and a job offer. “Now what?”

  “Now comes the hard part.” Gran appeared next to me in the passenger seat. “Now you decide what to do with your life.”

  “So, no pressure.” I started up the Jeep.

  “No rush. Lots of pressure. But you’re doing that to yourself.”

 

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