Psychic Detective

CHAPTER ONE

Pat Lancaster slipped a blue sleeveless V-neck jersey over her head, pulling the bottom down over the top of her well-fitting jeans, hugging her slender hips.

Picking up a hairbrush from the brown and gold counter, she smoothed her short blond hair into place, smiling as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror above the bathroom sink to reflect a heart-shaped face, deep green eyes, and a full pink mouth.

Not bad for an old broad banging fifty.

Walking into the kitchen, she took down a cup from the cupboard. After pouring herself some coffee, she went to sit down at the table when the phone rang.

She set the cup of coffee down on the table and reached out to unplug her phone from the charger.

Hello.

Hello, Pat hope I am not interrupting anything.

Good morning, Phil Abbot. I am just sitting down to my morning caffeine. She brings the cup up to her mouth. I know you would not be calling this early if you did not have something to relate to.

You’re right. A call came into the station about an hour ago about a missing woman. Thought you might be able to lend a hand, or in your case, a look into the spirit world.

I have a few errands to run later, but after that, I can see what I can do to be of help. I hope you have something that belongs to her. You know this is how I work. See if the family can drop off a hairbrush with some of her hair still in the brush.

If I don’t know how you work by now, I would have hung up asking for your help long ago, Pat.

I would hope so since you been bringing me in on cases for what…eight years or more?

It’s been at least eight years since you shocked the hell out of me and the department with what you can see.

Okay, well, let me wake up and get myself together, and we can see what we can find out around four o’clock this afternoon.

See you then, and Pat. Thanks.

She sat thinking about what she had, again, been asked to do, and removing her glasses, she rubbed a hand over her eyes as she recalled the first time she had been exposed to the paranormal.

She had been nine years old and out playing with her cousins who were the same age and visiting the farm for a few days as they always did during the summer. Every year she, her mom, dad, two brothers, and two sisters would go for a visit to Indiana with her aunt, uncle, and cousins. Then the next year, it was the aunt and uncle and cousin’s turn to visit her family.

On this day, she and her cousins thought it would be fun to venture further into the woods behind the barn and across from the old cemetery.

Pushing their way through low hanging branches of the large oak trees and thick brush, they came upon a stream

A stream surrounded by green grass and different brightly colored flowers. They all lay down on the grass and stuck their hands in the stream of water to wash the sweat from their faces.

Wow, Tommy said. I never heard about this stream being here. We could have come here before.

We ran and played in the grass and picked the flowers, and played more in the stream.

Roxy laughed as she splashed water into her sister’s face, soaking her red top.

By then, we were getting hungry, and I suggested we leave and go get something to eat.

When we got back to the house, I couldn’t wait to tell everyone about the beautiful stream surrounded by dark green grass and brightly colored flowers. Imagine my surprise when not only did my mom, dad, sisters, and brothers say there was no such place on the farm, but my cousins looked at me like I was telling a story. They all agreed that they had no memory of finding a stream far back in the woods.

I can still remember the surprised look on Pricilla’s face when I asked her why the front of her top was all wet. She had no answer.

***

Hi, Pat.

A brown-haired woman in her early twenties with smiling dark eyes all but hidden behind a pair of gold-colored glasses and dressed in a rust-colored blouse and black slacks smiled as she saw Pat walk into the station. "I’ll let Lieutenant Abbott know you’re here.

Thanks, Stella.

The door to one of the offices opened, and a burly man in his late fifties with short-cropped red hair, green eyes, and dressed in a dark blue suit and tie walked forward with his arms open wide.

"You always look like a million bucks. He pulled her in close for a brief hug, then stepped back to gaze at her.

Pat struck a pose and ran her hands down the sides of her green formfitting dress.

Come on in the office, and we can get started on what we have been able to learn so far.

Were you able to have anything of hers brought in for me to work with? She sat in a chair pulled up beside his desk.

They brought her toothbrush. I hope that will do.

Yes, that should work. So what do you know so far about this woman and why she is being thought of as missing?

Her name is Tracy Dixon. She is a white woman, twenty-four years old with black hair, brown eyes, five foot six, and a little on the heavy side. Her mom said she would guess her to weigh around a hundred and eighty lbs. The reason they believe she is missing instead of just shacked up somewhere, her words not mine, is because she has a retarded four-year-old daughter who needs special care.

How long has she been gone?

Since early this morning when the family came downstairs and found the little girl sitting at the kitchen table crying and saying she couldn’t find her mama. The mom went to check to see if Tracy was still asleep and saw that her bed had been slept in, but Tracy was nowhere to be seen.

Pat held out her hand. Okay, let me have the toothbrush, and we’ll see what we can learn about this missing mama.

Pat leaned back in her chair, stretched her long legs out straight, and after taking three long deep breaths, she waited to see what would come forth.

Detective Abbott watched her, trying not to make any noise as he removed a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. Turning to the side, he quickly lit a cigarette drawing the nicotine into his lungs.

Pat’s eyes flew open as she put a hand up to cover her mouth.

What are you seeing? He leaned forward in his chair.

Someone did one hell of a job on this poor woman. The person who killed her wanted to make sure she never drew another breath. She was gutted. You have a rage killing here.

Were you able to see the killer?

Yes, he is a young black male in his early twenties. He used a skinning knife to do the murder.

Too bad we couldn’t also get his name. Abbott shook his head.

His name is Robert. In her mind, Pat could still hear the murdered woman scream out the man’s name as he raised the thick knife to end her life.

Now all we need to do is see if the family knows if she was seeing a Robert.

Oh, trust me, they will know the son of a bitch. He is the father of the little girl who was left crying for her mama.

Guess the lowlife wanted to make sure he didn’t need to get off his lazy ass and get a job so he could pay child support.

The family should have no problem finding him since they know where his mother lives.

So, he not only sits on his ass probably collecting welfare, but he allows his mom to house him.

Yes. And now he still won’t need to work as the state will be housing him and feeding him.

Too bad the death penalty takes so long to kick in. He’s a killer, so he won’t be getting out on bail and, later, parole.

We can take this a step further. When the inmates find out what he did to the little girl’s mama, it will be a miracle if they don’t take him out.

Would that be so bad?

No, except this would only make more trouble for them and keep them from getting out on parole.

He got to his feet to walk around his desk. Thank you for your help, Pat. He gave her a quick hug.

No problem. You have my number if you need me.

CHAPTER TWO

Pulling into her driveway, she saw a blue blazer parked in front of the house.

DK, you could not have shown up at a better time, she murmured to herself.

She got out of her car to wave forward a man still sitting in his car.

Dressed in a pair of Wrangler Jeans, a black sleeveless t-shirt, and a pair of cowboy boots, the tall, slim-built man with dark brown hair and brown eyes grinned as he moved up the sidewalk toward her.

For a man getting ready to pass me in the age department, you still have the power to make my breath pick up speed and my heart pound like a well-played drum.

DK pulled her into his arms to plant a long kiss on her parted lips. You should take pity on this old boy getting ready to turn fifty-one whose heart pounds at the same rate as yours when I lay eyes on you. Hospitals frown on two horney people sharing a bed. Let’s go inside before the neighbors start setting up lawn chairs in the front yard.

Would you like a cup of coffee, a red beer, or something with a little more kick to it?

I’ll have whatever you’re having.

When she filled two glasses with ice and poured the glasses to the top with Scotch, he glanced over at her.

Looks like someone had a stressful day.

Pat handed him his drink and headed for the living room to sit down on the long white leather couch.

Yes, I am not surprised it shows. Detective Abbott asked me for help in locating a young mother who disappeared.

Were you able to help? He took a sip of his drink and waited to see her reaction to his question.

Yes. She removed her glasses and rubbed a hand across her eyes. She was gutted by the father of her daughter. A little girl who is retarded and has special needs. Now, the poor child does not even have her mother to tend to her needs and comfort her.

That takes a sick son of a bitch to do that to a woman who bore his child. Were they still together or divorced?

I don’t know all the details of the relationship. Abbott just asked for my help in finding her.

If they were no longer together, he probably opted to kill her rather than have to pay Child support.

He looks like a low life. I doubt he even has a job.

Do you mind my asking a very personal question?

She looked at him and slowly nodded her head.

In helping the police find missing women and children and even men, doesn’t it ever get to you when it turns out the person you are helping to find is murdered and in such a vile way?

"Yes. Sometimes I can smell the blood and feel their fear. She covered her face and turned away.

If it is this bad, why don’t you stop being a psychic investigator?

DK stood and came to sit beside her on the couch.

I have thought about turning down the requests for help. Then I think, but what if I refuse and then find out had I acted quickly, I could have saved a person’s life.

You are only one person, Pat. It is not your place to save everyone. Especially when it puts your health and wellbeing at risk.

You always have a way of making me feel better about myself. I don’t know what I would ever do without you.

He gathered her into his arms, holding her close, and when she dropped her head on his chest, he kissed the side of her face.

You know you don’t have to do without me. All you have to say is yes, and we can be married. I don’t know why you keep fighting what can be.

I don’t want to involve you in the kind of life I lead. You should be with someone who can give you children and be there when you come home from catching the bad guys. I earn my living as a psychic detective. I can never have children. There have been threats on my life from some of the trash I have been able to turn in and help to have convicted. And, too, at any given time, I can be leaving to go to another state. It just would not be fair to you, DK.

He pulled away from her to sit forward on the couch. I am a grown man. Shouldn’t it be up to me what I do with my life? Maybe I don’t want kids. Maybe I want to be near when you need to leave on a case.

"Do you want Children? She looked right into his dark brown eyes to get his reaction.

I never thought about being a father. But one thing I do know, and that is if it comes down to either having kids or having you in my life, I choose you.

You say this now, but what if you change your mind later on?

Trust me, Pat, if you agree to be Mrs. Walker, my life will be complete now and forever.

CHAPTER THREE

A man dressed in shabby clothes who looked to be in his middle sixties, short in stature, and on the slim side sat on a crate holding a sign that read, ‘I AM HUNGRY CAN YOU SPARE A few BUCKS?’ looked up as she walked toward him to hold out a $20.00 bill.

God love you, ma’am. He took the money from her hand. I ain’t had nothin’ in my belly for almost two days.

No problem, I’m glad to help out.

She leaned over to pat him on his shoulder and immediately withdrew her hand. The image of a man in his thirties, with brown hair laced with gray and a beard who was of medium height and wearing a dark sweatshirt and jeans and brandishing a handgun, jumped into her mind. She saw him aim the gun at the man seated in front of her and heard in her mind the profanities he was screaming.

You worthless bastard, you have shamed this family for the last time. I’m gonna send you to hell so you can be with all the rest of the worthless losers!

Pat reached out her hand. "You need to come with me. Your life is in danger here. I am a psychic, and I just saw a man aiming a gun at you.

What the hell are you talking about? I don’t believe in psychics. He hurriedly shoved the money she gave him into his pants pocket. They are from the devil, and I am not about to leave the best corner in town where I can be sure to get some money.

She looked at him, her heart racing as she thought about what else she could say or do to get him to listen.

It is your choice whether you want to stay here and take a chance on being shot and killed or let me call the police and let them know what is going on with you.

Lady, if you call the cops and tell them what you just told me, they are going to haul your ass off to the nut ward.

He laughed aloud as he looked at her shaking his head.

Who in your family is probably in his thirties, slim with brown hair mixed with gray and a beard?

The man’s laughter stilled as he got unsteadily to his feet.

You just described my son, Art. He has mental problems and is always making things difficult for the family.

Pat pulled her phone from the pocket of her jeans and punched in the numbers for the police department to tell them what was going on.

A police car moving down the street flipped around to pull into the supermarket’s parking lot. The officer got out of his car and walked forward, taking the man by his arm to assist him into the squad car, where he would be transported to the police station. As Pat walked off to get in her car, the man called out, thanking her for her help.

The young police officer, who was in his early thirties and of medium height and build, came forward. You might be one weird lady, Pat, his dark eyes slide over her, but your gift sure helps a lot of people.

He removed his cap to run a nervous hand through his dark hair, ignoring the hand she held out to him.

I don’t mean to be rude, but I sure as hell don’t want you to see anything in my life.

Pat laughed outright.