by D E Dennis
“Is this really necessary?” I questioned. “You said I wasn’t under arrest.”
“It’s just so we can talk privately, Amari.”
I looked hard at Arnie, but he didn’t meet my gaze. With a sniff, I stomped inside and took a seat at the table.
Arnie and Kindler sat down across from me. Arnie and I stared at each other.
After a minute of this, Kindler got impatient. “Well, I guess I’ll start.” She snapped forward and pinned me with her glare. “Miss Moon, just what did you think you were playing at? Calling the press, bad-mouthing the ZSPD, accusing the mayor of Zinnia Springs of murder, and walking away with a grin on your face like this is all some big joke! Is this a game to you?”
I folded my arms across my chest. “To be fair, I didn’t actually do most of those things. Nadia called the press, not me. It was a total surprise when they pounced on me. And again, it was also Nadia who said you were wasting time going after the wrong person...although, she was right about that.” Kindler stiffened. “Also, I didn’t accuse Tad Breyfogle of murder. I simply repeated what Veronica Breyfogle told me and showed them the tie clip I found among the debris. The only one who said he was possibly a murderer was the person who was murdered. What a co-winky-dink,” I said sarcastically.
I knew I shouldn’t be riling her up like this, but she just rubbed me the wrong way. We had a long, shaky, and slightly violent history. And I didn’t have the best control over my emotions. I was an empath with mood swings. I made as much sense as a vampire with a blood phobia.
“Speaking of the tie clip.” Arnie had finally found his voice. “We’re going to need to see that.”
I opened my purse, took it out, and place it on the table. Arnie and Kindler leaned in at the same time, reading the initials engraved into the surface.
“Where exactly did you find this?” Arnie questioned.
“Monique showed me the―”
“Wait.” Kindler held up a hand. “Who is Monique?”
“Chief Arson Investigator, Monique Bauer.”
Her brow crept up her forehead. “You’re on a first-name basis with the chief of the arson unit? I guess that explains how you ended up snooping around a crime scene that you had no business being near.”
“As I was saying,” I said through gritted teeth. “Monique showed me where in Veronica’s former office the fire was actually started. I kicked some debris away from the spot and the tie clip tumbled out.”
“So you just took it,” Arnie deadpanned. “You removed evidence from a crime scene and didn’t bother to tell the police about it.” He met my gaze. “To tell me about it.”
I lifted my chin. “I wanted to tell you about it...but your phone seems to have stopped working,” I said pointedly.
Arnie scowled.
“Look,” I relented, uncrossing my arms. “I shouldn’t have taken the clip. I wasn’t thinking, but what really matters is that this clip is proof Tad Breyfogle was there that day. He started that fire and murdered his wife along with those people unlucky enough to be there when he carried out the deed.”
Kindler snorted. “This tie clip isn’t proof. It could have gotten there at any time. He was the victim’s husband and no doubt a frequent visitor to her office. Maybe it fell off weeks before the fire and no one noticed it.”
I sighed. “I knew you would say that.” My tone was heavy with disappointment.
“Good,” she said firmly. “Then you do understand that we build cases on facts and evidence, not unfounded rumors and misplaced accessories. All the evidence points to the Zinnia Springs arsonist and I’m sure your good friend, Monique, mentioned it.”
“The mayor was there,” I said stubbornly.
Arnie shook his head. “We’ve spoken to the witnesses, Mari. No one can place him at the scene on the day of the fire.”
“Yes, but they also admitted he could have come in through the back door and they would have had no idea.”
Arnie blinked at me. “How exactly do you know that?” He frowned. “Did you actually go and question the witnesses yourself?” he asked incredulously.
My silence was answer enough.
“You’re unbelievable,” he said under his breath, shaking his head.
“Arnie, that woman came to me for help and I let her down. If I had pushed her to go to the cops, or better yet, had come to you myself, none of this would have happened. I messed up again and she died! It’s my fault!”
My eyes filled with angry tears. No, no, no. I’m am not going to cry in front of Kindler. I held my breath to the count of five and released it to a count of five. Paxon had taught me these breathing exercises for when other people’s emotions overwhelmed me. But more often than not, I used it to get a handle on mine.
“Again?” Arnie’s gaze softened. “Babe,” he said gently, “this wasn’t your fault. Please tell me you know that...”
I looked away, rubbing my eyes furiously. When I looked back up at them, Arnie was no longer looking betrayed and even Kindler’s gaze had lost some of its hostility.
She sighed and scrubbed her face. “Look, Miss Moon. I’m sure you think you’re doing the right thing. Veronica Breyfogle came to you for help and you want to make sure her killer doesn’t get away, but this is a police investigation and obstruction of justice is a serious charge. We are conducting a thorough investigation and every rock will be kicked over.”
“Oh yeah?” I questioned. “So have you discovered the identity of the mystery woman in the black dress? And I’m guessing you found out where Tad Breyfogle was at the time his wife was murdered?”
Arnie frowned. “He claimed he was at home. His children confirmed he spends every Saturday morning locked in his office. He doesn’t come out and no one goes in. They give him space to work.”
I snorted. “They give him false alibis is what they give him. I’m guessing you didn’t speak to the chef? Gwen was in her room mixing up perfume and Oliver wasn’t even in the house. Chef Tatiana told me Tad came racing out of his office and took off out the door on the morning of the fire and he didn’t come back until after she heard the news about Mrs. Breyfogle. He refused to say where he had been when he did come back.”
Arnie and Kindler shared a look. “Okay, we’ll look into that,” Arnie said. “We’ll handle the investigating from here, Mari. Promise me. You’re done.”
I swallowed thickly. “You’re going to get him? Tad Breyfogle? You’ll stop him and make sure he doesn’t get a chance to hurt anyone else?”
Arnie nodded. “If he’s the guy, we’ll get him.”
“Okay,” I sighed. “I’ll stop.”
I FOUND KALI AND SIR Fluffington in my bed when I stumbled home. “What’s this?” I asked, gesturing at the kitten. “I thought he was banned.”
Kali gave me a wry grin. “I went down to check on him after you were hauled away and I felt bad leaving him down there all by himself in the dark.” She scratched under his chin and he nuzzled into her touch. “Have you found him a home yet?”
I flung myself onto my bed and snuggled into my pillow. “Yes,” I replied. “Sir Fluffington will now be living with Cora and Daniel. They are picking him up tomorrow.”
“That’s great. This means we still get to see you,” Kali cooed at the kitten. She looked at me. “What did the cops want to see you about?”
“What else?” I snorted. “They wanted to chew me out for my little television appearance. I’ve been told to back off the case and stay away from Tad Breyfogle, in no uncertain terms.”
Kali kept her attention on the cat. “Are you going to listen?”
I nodded. “Yes, I am. There’s nothing more I can do.”
Kali turned and smiled at me. “I’m really glad to hear that. I’ve been worried about you, you know.”
I lifted my head off the pillow. “Me? Why?”
“You getting dragged into another murder, Kayla reappearing, fighting with Arnie.” She sighed. “Despite your refusal to see a shrink, you’ve worked re
ally hard to get to a good place. And it seemed like all that was ruined in one morning.”
I turned my face away. “Kali...I’ve always been this, and I’ll always be this.”
“You don’t have to be, Mari,” she insisted. “It’s not going to be easy and it’s not going to happen overnight but if you would just let yourself heal―”
“No.”
She groaned, frustrated. “Just come with me to see Dr. Shroder. Next week, cancel your appointments and just come and talk to her.”
“I’m not going to do that, Kali. Let it go.”
She scowled, anger rolling off her in waves. “I’m not letting it go! And I’m not taking no for an answer anymore! If you won’t come to Dr. Shroder, I’ll bring Dr. Shroder to you!”
With that, she placed Sir Fluffington on the pile of blankets at her feet and then flipped over and threw the covers over her head.
“Bring her to me?” I said to her back. “What does that mean?”
She didn’t answer.
“So you’re ignoring me...”
More silence.
“And you’re still sleeping here even though you’re pissed at me?”
Her response was to flick off the lamp on the bedside table.
I sighed. And to think, I spent twenty-two years of my life wishing I had a little sister. What was I thinking?
I HAD NEVER BEEN SO glad to hit Friday. I had five clients scheduled, three in the morning and two directly after lunch. I’d be closing up shop at one forty-five, then spending the rest of my time relaxing in the tub with a book, until Cora and Daniel came over to have dinner and pick up Sir Fluffington.
Kali had an early morning midterm, so she was already gone by the time I woke up. I made a quick breakfast, showered, got dressed, scooped up the kitten, and threw open the front door to head to work. I shrieked when I found Kayla on the other side of it.
She grinned. “What’s all the screaming for? Surely you were expecting me?”
“No. No, no, no!” I cried. “I’m not investigating anymore. I’m leaving things up to Arnie. Why are you here?”
She raised her brow. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you didn’t want me around. I won’t bother you anymore.” She turned to leave and panic seized me.
“No, wait!” I cried. “No, don’t leave! You can’t leave!”
My breaths were coming in short, rapid bursts. There was no air. How can there be no air?! The room began to spin and I stumbled away from the door, tripped over my own feet, and went down. Hard.
Sir Fluffington yowled and escaped my grasp. In his fright, he fled across my face and his sharp claws left painful scratches.
I barely even noticed. “Don’t leave. Don’t leave. Please, you can’t go,” I sobbed.
Kayla knelt down beside me. “I’m not going anywhere, Mari,” she said soothingly. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Please, K-Kayla,” I cried. “Please don’t go. Don’t leave me.” I reached for her, but of course, my hand hit nothing but empty air. “Please don’t be d-dead.”
She smiled at me. “I’ll always be here for you, Moon. I’ll never leave.”
I CANCELED ALL MY APPOINTMENTS for the day. I wrapped myself up like a sausage roll and lay on the couch, cycling through rage and grief.
Kayla stuck around the whole time. She always appeared when I was particularly stressed, frightened or anxious. I’m not sure why I only hallucinate her in those particular moments and I hadn’t tried very hard to figure it out.
My hands shook as I lifted the cup of tea up to my lips. “I was surprised to see you that’s all,” I said tremulously. “I woke up in a good mood. I’m putting the Breyfogle case in Arnie’s hand. So why did you come?”
Kayla looked at me steadily. “Because you haven’t let go of this case. Not really. It’s still nagging away at you. You don’t feel good about leaving this in their hands.”
“That’s not true,” I protested. “Arnie is a good cop. I know he’ll catch Tad Breyfogle before he can hurt anyone else.”
“Really?” she probed. “He and Kindler didn’t stop my killer before they could hurt me.”
I winced, eyes filling with tears. “Stop,” I said.
But she plowed on. “A serial killer was on the loose in Florida University, and like everyone else you locked your doors at night, carried some pepper spray, and left it up to the police to catch the bad guy. Despite your abilities, despite how close the killer actually was, you didn’t do anything...and I was murdered.”
“Please s-stop,” I choked out.
She sighed. “And you haven’t stopped blaming yourself since,” said Kayla softly. “Hard enough for a non-empath to go through, but even worse for you because of how...badly...empaths process emotional trauma.
“Mood swings”—she gestured to herself— “hallucinations, refusing to let go of the past and move on, sabotaging any relationship with Paxon, clinging to Arnie because he reminds you of the life you used to have filled with love and happiness.”
I buried my scratched-up face in my blanket, crying softly. It wasn’t really Kayla saying this of course. These daggers masquerading as words have been flung at me by Kali, Kellan, my dad, etc. My subconscious was simply dragging it up now and relaying it through the imprint her loss left behind.
“You haven’t stopped punishing yourself for not being there for me when it happened...or for what you did afterward...” I froze, heart filling with dread, but thankfully she didn’t say anymore.
“You can’t let the murder of Veronica Breyfogle go, because it hits too close to home. She was another person who was relying on you, another person who was killed on your watch.”
“It’s been five years, Kayla,” I whispered. “When is this going to end?”
“It can’t end, Mari. You won’t let it.”
I sniffed. “I can’t see the myriad of shrinks my family keeps pushing on me. It would be a waste of my time and theirs. What’s the point of sitting there week after week faking it?” I can’t complete their treatments because it might actually help me and then you would go away. I don’t want you to leave.
“I’m not real, Amari.” She gave me a sad smile. “Your best friend is gone...and eventually, I will have to go too.”
“Maybe that’s true,” I said softly, “but not yet. I’m not ready.”
“Okay...but when you are,” she said gently, “know that it’s a good thing. And know that Makayla will always be with you, in here.” She pointed to where her heart should have been.
I smiled gently. “That sounds like something Kayla would say.”
She grinned. “Yes. And then she’d follow it up by telling you to blow that snotty nose and stop it with those tears.” That startled a bark of laughter from me. “Now, since we’re playing hooky today, we should do it right.” She stood up and planted her hands on her hips. “Order some takeout, bust out that book you’ve been waiting to finish and fill up the tub.”
I scrubbed my face with the edge of my blanket. “Sounds like a plan.”
HOURS LATER, I EMERGED from the bathroom looking like a shriveled-up, brown prune.
“Hey,” I said to Kali.
She looked away from the TV. “Hi...” she said, giving me a small smile.
“Are we okay?” I asked.
She sighed. “We’re always okay, Mari, even when you’re being infuriating.”
I cracked a smile. “Good to know.” Something rubbed against my ankle. I looked down to see I was on the receiving end of Sir Fluffington’s affection. It seemed he had forgiven me as well. “I’m going to get dressed and then get started on dinner. Cora said they would be here at six.”
“Okay.”
I wasn’t making anything fancy tonight, because I knew Cora would probably slap together some leftovers, throw them in a bowl, and it would end up tasting ten times better than anything I could make. So instead, I took out a frying pan, squirted some oil on it, and began frying the burger patties.
; “Burgers tonight?” Kali said from behind me. I could hear the bits of the news report in the background.
“Yes,” I said without turning around. “They are Daniel’s favorite...which drives his classically trained chef mom crazy.” We chuckled.
“Need help with anything?”
I nodded. “Could you cut up the onions and tomatoes, please?”
“Sure thing.” She took the burger toppings out of the fridge then reached around me for the cutting board. We worked in silence for a few minutes, but then Kali broke.
“I’m sorry about last night,” she blurted. “Dr. Shroder told me I have to be patient with you and let you make the decision to get help on your own, but I’m worried about you, Mari. How could I not be when you actively refuse to get better? You’d rather suffer through mood swings and hallucinations if it means you can still see your old friend.” I heard a thawk as she cut through the onion a bit harder than she needed to.
“I know, Kali,” I said evenly. “I know it’s not healthy and you’re right to push me. Empaths don’t handle trauma well as evidenced by me constantly chatting with the imaginings of my cracked mind, and you smashing the antique jewelry box Grandma gave me for my birthday when I accidentally threw out Mr. Snuggy.”
“Sorry again about that,” she mumbled. Mr. Snuggy was her childhood teddy bear and the day I mistakenly got rid of it was a dark day in the Moon household.
“Kayla and I talked about it,” I continued, “and she thinks it’s time for me to let her go as well.” My voice cracked on the last word.
Kali sighed. I felt a hand on my shoulder. “There is no Kayla, Mari,” she said firmly. “She doesn’t think you should let her go...you do. Deep down, you know it’s time.”
“—Tad Breyfogle.”
I suddenly perked up. “What was that?” I asked.
“I said, you know you need to—”
“No, not you.” I dropped the spatula and raced out of the kitchen. I heard a name I recognized coming from the television.