A Psychic with Catitude

by P. D. Workman

  Jessup was waiting patiently to get Reg’s attention back.

  “Uh… sorry,” Reg said. “I just wanted to make sure…” She trailed off, not sure how to explain it without giving offense. “Um, never mind.”

  Jessup raised her eyebrows, then shrugged. She looked around the cottage. Reg had the distinct feeling she was looking for something to comment on, to engage in a little small-talk before getting down to what she had really come for.

  “Just tell me what it is. I don’t need to be eased into it,” Reg told her.

  “Well… okay, then.”

  But Jessup still didn’t seem to know where to start.

  “I’m not in trouble?” Reg asked, repeating what Jessup had said at the door.

  “No. Oh, no. This isn’t about anything you’ve done. Well, I suppose it is, sort of… but it’s more about… what you could do.”

  Reg narrowed her eyes, trying to sort that bit out. “I’m not going to do anything that will get me in trouble.”

  “It’s nothing like that. I actually… wondered whether you would consult on a case.”

  “Oh!” Reg sat back, shocked. She hadn’t seen that one coming.

  “I know we barely know each other and you haven’t established yourself as a professional police consultant or anything like that… but I’m stuck here… and it’s not the kind of thing I can take my time on and hope to involve you sometime in the future. I need help now.”

  Reg nodded reassuringly. “What kind of case? Not… anything to do with Uriel Hawthorne or any of… those guys…?”

  “No. Completely unrelated. It’s a missing child. Adolescent.”

  Reg thought back to the times that Erin had run away. Or one of the other foster children she’d known. Or Reg herself. Erin had been the real runner. Even when she became an adult, she’d always bolted when things got too uncomfortable. Reg would get out when she knew there was real trouble ahead, but she wasn’t like her foster sister, disappearing at the first sign.

  “Well, at least that’s something I have experience with.”

  Jessup’s expression brightened. “Really? You’ve consulted on cases like this before?”

  “No. But… I’ve been close to a lot of runaway cases.”

  “I hope that’s what it is,” Jessup sighed. “I mean, I know kids can still get hurt or in a lot of trouble when they run away. They don’t have any idea the kind of trouble they could find themselves in. But…”

  Reg turned it over in her mind. “You don’t think she was a runaway? You think she was kidnapped?”

  “She disappeared overnight from her bedroom. That kind of scenario, it’s usually voluntary… running off to meet a boy or party, taking off and starting a new life… but I’m afraid it might not be that simple this time.”

  “Did this just happen today? Don’t you… get the FBI involved or something? I thought this was the kind of thing where they’d have a task force and be blasting it all over TV… I don’t know, bugging phones and chasing down all of the pedophiles in the area…”

  “We’re doing what we can. I’m not the only one on the case. But… if you could use your talents to find her… or tell me something about where she is…”

  “I can give it a try,” Reg agreed. “What’s it going to hurt?’

  “Exactly.” Jessup nodded vigorously in agreement.

  “Do you have something that belongs to her?”

  Jessup looked awkward. “Well… no. I didn’t think of that.”

  Exactly how did she think Reg was going to connect with the teen? There were probably runaway teens all over Florida. The warm weather would make it easy for them to live rough. Not like in New England where living on the street meant freezing to death at least half the year.

  “Can’t you do it just with her name?” Jessup suggested. “Or if I tell you what we know?”

  “I can try. But… I don’t know. That’s a pretty tall order. Usually, I need to hold something that belonged to the person. At least the first time.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t think of it. Her name is Calliopia Papillon.”

  Reg blinked. “Well, that’s quite a mouthful! Were her parents royalty? Or movie stars?” She shook her head. “Calliopia Papillon.” Reg stared into the crystal ball, focusing on the name. Where would Calliopia be? With a name like that, how could she blend in anywhere?

  She felt Starlight’s soft paws on her leg, then he jumped lightly into her lap. Reg gathered him into her arms and rested her face on top of his head, trying to access his psychic powers to augment her own.

  Where is Calliopia?

  She didn’t know the local area very well, and that was a problem. Even if she saw Calliopia in her surroundings, she might not be able to guide the police to her. But at least she’d know what kind of shape the girl was in.

  How is Calliopia? Is Calliopia okay? Calliopia Papillon…

  She could see shapes moving in darkness. Not see them, exactly, but feel them. She closed her eyes. She felt cold and dark. Was that what Calliopia was feeling? Where could she be in Florida that she was feeling cold? A freezer or meat locker?

  The cut on Reg’s hand burned. She opened her eyes and looked at it. It had opened up again and was wet with blood.

  “Are you okay?” Jessup asked, starting to rise.

  Reg motioned her down. “It’s nothing. It’s fine. Let me just get a wet washcloth.” She retreated to the bathroom and ran a cloth under the cold water. She dabbed the blood away, and then held the cloth against the cut for a few minutes, soothing it and, hopefully, taking down the swelling.

  “Did you… have any luck?” Jessup asked tentatively.

  “I could feel something… but nothing clear. Maybe if you could get me something of hers?” Reg studied Jessup’s smooth, unlined face. “Or maybe I could go with you to her house, if you’re going to go there.”

  Jessup nodded. “I was planning to go there next, actually. I was hoping to have an idea of what to look for when I get there.”

  “If I can go with you… maybe I’ll be able to find something. I can’t promise, but… there’s a better chance if I’m surrounded by her things than if I’m just here thinking on a name, or holding one thing that belonged to her.”

  “Okay. I guess. You’ll have to leave the cat here, though. They’re… allergic.”

  Reg wondered how Jessup happened to know that Calliopia’s family was allergic to cats. That seemed like an awfully specific thing to know about someone who, presumably, she had only just met when they reported their daughter missing.

  “I wasn’t planning on bringing him with me. Are they really sensitive? Will they react to the fur on my clothes?” Reg looked down at the black and white hairs that seemed to cling to all of her clothes since she got Starlight.

  “No, that much shouldn’t bother them,” Jessup said, making a waving-off motion.

  “Okay. I’ll just grab my bag and we can go.”

  Jessup hadn’t been urging her to hurry, but since Reg had reached out to Calliopia, she had a growing sense of dread. What if Calliopia weren’t just a runaway? What if someone had taken her and she was in danger? They were just sitting around, talking and something could be happening to her.

  ⋆ Chapter Three ⋆

  D

  etective Jessup had a normal car, which Reg appreciated. She didn’t really want to be riding around town in a marked police car. She was still building her reputation and didn’t want people to think she was a felon.

  It wasn’t long before they had left the part of Black Sands that Reg was familiar with and were into large estates or acreages. Reg tried not to gape at the huge houses in the brilliant green landscape. They drove up to a barred gate and waited for the security guard who must have been watching the surveillance camera to open the gates remotely.

  Jessup drove on. There was a long, winding path up to the estate, flanked by beautiful gardens lush with colorful flowers and lazily floating butterflies. The house itself was the size of a hot
el, with medieval-looking turrets and embellishments.

  “That’s incredible,” Reg murmured.

  Jessup looked over at her and nodded. Her expression was masked, giving nothing away. She wasn’t telling Reg whatever it was she knew about the family and their situation. No gossip about how they had made their fortune or what their standing in the community was.

  They parked in the drive in front of the house and were met at the door by a butler. He was tall and slender, very pale with an almost blue cast to his face. Reg thought that his uniform might have been silk, but was afraid to say anything. He seemed to know who they both were, even though Jessup hadn’t introduced herself or Reg, and ushered them into an airy hall with gold upholstered furnishings and lots of potted plants and trees. Reg thought she saw a hummingbird dart around one of the plants, but she blinked and couldn’t spot it again. She turned to Jessup to exclaim about it, but Jessup gave a tiny shake of her head. Reg zipped her lip.

  They were joined in a few minutes by a tall, stately couple, much like the butler in appearance, but dressed even more richly. Neither shook hands or greeted Jessup and Reg directly. The woman, her hair done up in a complicated updo of golden curls, was carrying a swaddled baby in her arms, and attended to it after sitting down across from them. Reg couldn’t see the baby among the blankets, and it kept quiet and still throughout the interview, obviously fast asleep.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Papillon,” Jessup greeted. “How are you holding up?”

  The couple looked at each other, then back at Jessup, not answering her query directly.

  “Have you found anything out, Detective?” Mr. Papillon queried.

  “We’re working on it. Believe me, this is the most important case that we have on our plates right now. We’re putting all of our resources into it.”

  “So you have not discovered anything yet?”

  “I’m actually here to have a look at Calliopia’s room. I know the crime techs have already been through there, but Ms. Rawlins and I would like to have a look over it, if we could.”

  “Of course,” Mr. Papillon agreed. He looked at his wife for a moment, cuddling the infant, then stood. “I will take you there.”

  Jessup and Reg stood. Reg studied Mrs. Papillon with the baby for a few seconds before following Mr. Papillon. She seemed very young to have a teenage daughter, perhaps not even thirty herself. Was she the second wife? A new wife and baby in the home might have made things untenable for Calliopia. Had the wife been jealous of Mr. Papillon’s firstborn? Had Calliopia been jealous of the new baby getting all of the attention and of the woman who had replaced her mother? Had one or both of the parents been abusive or negligent of the daughter who was no longer wanted?

  She watched for any change in body language or facial expression from either of them, and reached out with her mind, trying to identify their thoughts and feelings around their missing daughter. They had reported her missing, so that was at least some indication that they cared about her.

  They walked up a grand staircase and down a long hall into another wing of the house to reach Calliopia’s bedroom. The house was not as ostentatious as she would have expected from the exterior and the rich finery of their dress. There were fewer paintings, sculptures, and antiques and more greenery and flowers than Reg would have predicted.

  Calliopia’s room was large, with floor-to-ceiling windows lining one wall of the room. Yet there were heavy blue velvet drapes pulled across most of the windows blocking out the light, so that the room was illuminated by just one panel open in the middle. Mr. Papillon gave a little shrug.

  “You know kids,” he said. “Up at all hours, trying to sleep during the day. Callie didn’t like the sun in her eyes.”

  Jessup nodded understandingly. She and Reg both looked around the room, letting their eyes adjust to the dimness and taking everything in. Reg felt the girl’s presence very strongly. She wanted Mr. Papillon to go away so that she could be left to feel Callie and try to tell Jessup what had happened to her.

  “If there’s anything you need… if you have any more questions…” He left the sentence hanging.

  “We’ll let you know,” Jessup agreed.

  Mr. Papillon looked at Reg one more time, as if trying to figure out who she was, then turned and left them to search Callie’s room. Jessup closed the door behind him, leaving them in the cave-like darkness of the room. But Jessup didn’t immediately reach for the light switch or go and open more curtains.

  “Can you sense anything?” she asked in a low voice.

  “Yes. I’m going to… if you want to just be still and quiet for a minute… I’m going to see if I can find her.”

  Jessup nodded.

  Restless, Reg went to the bed and sat down.

  She wanted to find Calliopia and to help her, but she was afraid that when she reached out, she was going to find nothing. She didn’t want to let down Detective Jessup and Calliopia’s parents. She didn’t want to let down Callie. She needed to find her, even if it were just to verify that she had run away and didn’t want to live in the mansion with her parents anymore.

  And she didn’t want to reveal to herself and everyone else that she was just a fraud. A lucky guesser. Good at cold readings, but a fraud nonetheless.

  She took a long, deep breath, and closed her eyes.

  ⋆ Chapter Four ⋆

  T

  he transition from the dark bedroom in the castle to the dark room where Calliopia was being held was an easy one. But the contrasts between the two were disturbing. The soft, luxurious bed that Reg was sitting on in Calliopia’s room was completely opposite to the one Calliopia sat on. The thin pad that separated Calliopia’s tired body from the springs of the bed was more like a thick quilt than a mattress. She could feel every bump and broken spring right through it. She would probably have been more comfortable wrapping it around herself and lying on the floor. But it was bare earth. The cold and damp of the room penetrated Callie’s bones.

  She was younger than Reg had expected, or at least she looked younger, maybe fourteen, still slim with a round, little-girl face.

  There were movements around her, sometimes in the surrounding rooms and sometimes in her own room. A cockroach crept out from under the bed and sat in the middle of the floor staring at her with glittering green eyes for a long time.

  Florida bred big roaches.

  Reg didn’t know whether the shudder was her own or Callie’s, but she couldn’t repress it. She drew the air in sharply through her teeth, trying to stay calm and focused. If the police were going to find Callie, they would need to know the details of where she was. She looked around the room, looking for any clues. She sank deeper into Callie’s mind and memories, trying to remember everything that had happened to bring her there.

  “Calliopia,” Reg whispered, “beautiful voice.”

  The girl started to sing. It transformed her from the plain, muddy-haired, sullen teen to an angel, glowing in the darkness. All movement around her ceased as every creature in hearing stilled and listened to her lilting song. Reg wasn’t sure what language it was. Latin, maybe, or French. Definitely a Romance language.

  “Reg! Regina!”

  Reg became slowly aware of the hand tight on her shoulder, shaking her, the low voice trying to hush her. She opened her eyes and looked at Detective Jessup, trying to find her footing. She opened her mouth to ask a question, but was startled by the opening of the bedroom door.

  Mrs. Papillon had thrown it open and stood framed in the doorway with light behind her.

  “What was that?” she demanded. “Who was singing? How did you know that song?”

  Her eyes alit on Reg. They burned with a strange light.

  “Who are you? What do you know about my daughter?”

  Her daughter. She wasn’t the step-mother, then. Or maybe she was, but she had accepted Calliopia as her own.

  “This is Reg Rawlins, ma’am,” Jessup advised her. “She’s a… consultant that I’ve brought in on the ca
se.”

  “A consultant? What does that mean?”

  She held the baby at her shoulder, her posture rigid. There was no movement or protest from the infant.

  “She’s… a psychic,” Jessup answered reluctantly. “She’s very good, she recently helped us to break a major case—”

  Jessup didn’t mention that Reg hadn’t been hired by the police department for that case. She obviously didn’t want to reveal that they had never hired Reg before and had just brought her in on Calliopia’s case without knowing if she’d be able to do anything for her.

  “That’s my daughter’s song. How do you know that song?”

  “She was singing it. What do you mean, it’s her song? Did she write it?”

  “She was singing it? When did you hear her singing it? She never performed for anyone.”

  “She was… she was singing it now, when I saw her.”

  Callie’s mother stepped into the room, towering over Reg, who was still sitting on the bed.

  “Where is she? You must tell me.”

  “I don’t know. The room was dark, I could barely see. There was nothing to indicate where it was she was being held.” Reg looked at Jessup. “I’ll work with the police department to try to figure it out. And I’ll try to make contact again. If I could… take something with me from this room. Something that will help me to find her when her presence isn’t so strong.”

  “Take anything,” the woman said, making an abrupt gesture to indicate the room. “Nothing is of any value to us without Callie.”

  Reg nodded. “Okay. I’m… sorry I can’t tell you where she is. We’ll try to find her.”

  “She is being held?” Mrs. Papillon asked. “She is being kept there against her will?”

  Reg nodded. “Yes. She doesn’t want to stay there. She wants to come home.”

  Tears glittered in the corners of the woman’s eyes. “She wants to come home,” she repeated. “She needs to come back here.”

  Reg was startled by her vehemence. She nodded mutely. Mrs. Papillon strode into the room and started to yank the curtains open, flooding the room with bright sunlight.