Rock Star Down (The Psychic Registry) (5 page)

"And then there's
Brenda," Nathan said.

"Brenda's got
nothing to do with anything," Andre said, breaking his silence.

That was the crack
Nathan was waiting for. Andre would break. Nathan badly needed a respite and risked
backing his read down to an 8.

"Yeah? She has
the key? She has access to the box—" Nathan paused to check something in
the case file. "And the place isn't held in
your
name, is it?"

"Momma left her
that house. Wasn't gonna leave it to the likes of me, ya know?" Andre
explained.

"Exactly.
Your
sister
holds the title. The box and the underwear are in
her house
.
And since she's stubborn and won't testify against you, she'll be charged as an
accomplice," Nathan lied.

Andre sighed and shook
his head. Fucking cops, messing with sis. Probably wouldn't stick, but they'd
jack her up just to hurt him.

Nathan's phone pinged
and he saw a text from Laurel: "Need sister's name."

Nathan mentioned in an
offhand manner, "You two have different names."

"I got my daddy's
name," Andre said. And Brenda had Momma's name: James.

"Didn't want to
change it to James, like your sister?" Nathan said.

"One name's good
as another," Andre shrugged.

"The jewelry box
was your mother's?"

"I always liked
it growing up. Brenda let me have it."

"You grew up in
that house?" Nathan asked.

Andre nodded. And
Nathan saw it, just the three of them, Momma, Brenda, and Andre, but they
seemed happy, at least as far as Andre remembered it. And the house seemed
large, well kept, and nicely furnished. The good feelings provided Nathan a dose
of relief.

"Nice
neighborhood?" Nathan asked.

"Longneck? It
was. Until the white folks left."

Nathan's phone pinged
with another text from Laurel: "Pick up your phone like you got a call."

Nathan answered his
phone, said, "Hold on," then un-muted the speaker, "Yeah?"

Archer was on the
other end: "I've got the address for his sister in Longneck. I'm going to
get started on a warrant. Keep him talking and see what else you can get. Oh, I've
got to hang up, so call Laurel so she can keep listening."

"Okay,"
Nathan said.

Then he punched up
Laurel's phone and she answered, "How are you doing?"

"Oh, you know. I
hoped he would be more cooperative for his sister's sake, but what do you
expect from a murderer," Nathan said, continuing to bait Andre.

"Pace yourself,
okay?" Laurel said.

"Thanks,"
Nathan said, then he pretended to end the call, but he just muted his speaker
and replaced the phone upon the table.

Talking to Archer and
Laurel, his read on Andre had become fuzzy, so he tightened it up again, but
heeded Laurel's advice and stopped at a 7. Not so deep as before, as it was
more like closely monitoring rather than intently focusing upon the thoughts
and feelings of his target. Andre was stressed of course, but more worried for
his sister than concerned about his own fate.

"Good news?"
Andre asked, half mocking, half in earnest.

Nathan shook his head,
"Not for you. The prosecutor is going to move immediately on an
application for asset forfeiture. Brenda will lose the house."

"They can't do
that!" Andre pled.

"Sure they can!"
Nathan spat, the foreign surge of anger feeding back into his voice. "They'll
argue that you have property there, which you do, and that you used the house
to cover up evidence of multiple murders!"

"That's thin,
man," Andre said.

As he regained his
composure another idea occurred to Nathan, "Where'd you get oven cleaner,
Andre?" And he knew the answer almost immediately. "You took it from
the house— And then you put it
back
." Nathan shook his head in
dismay. "If they find
just one
of Brenda's prints on that can,
Andre? Forget obstruction of justice and accomplice after the fact, she's
looking at capital murder, same as you!"

"No, no, no…"
Andre stammered. Real guilt, real fear.

Andre was on the edge
of panic and Nathan's heart was racing again. Still, he pressed on, determined
to break Andre.

"I thought you
were smart, man? You jammed her up. Your own sister," Nathan said and he
caught a flash of gratitude, remorse and what felt like love… "She's
always been there for you, Andre. She's never given up on you. She'll let you
take her down with you because she loves you too much to let go. You're going
to destroy her life if you don't get out in front of this."

Andre shook his head
in dismay, "You guys don't scare me. I can take whatever you dish out. But
sis, she ain't never had the sense to see me for who I am. You get them lawyers
in here. I want full immunity for Brenda and she gets to keep her house,
understand? Then I tell you whatever you want to know about Nicole and the rest.
Deal?"

Miller raised his
hands, "I think it sounds fair. I'll take it to the lawyers and see what
they think. But I'll tell you what, things are moving fast on this case and I
don't want to see your sister getting charged while the attorneys are dicking
around over the paperwork. Why don't you just write up how you have a key to
your sister's house and that she lets you keep stuff there like the jewelry box
and that you have access to her cleaning products and so on. You don't have to
mention anything else, but that way you are getting it on record that your
sister didn't have any knowledge about what you were up to."

Nathan felt Andre
would go for it. He pulled a few sheets of paper from the notebook in the case
file and slid them across the table along with a pencil. Andre scooted his
chair forward and picked up the pencil using both hands as he was still
shackled.

"This ain't no
confession," Andre said. "This is a statement of clarification
pertaining to the nature of certain belongings at my sister's house."

"Understood,"
Nathan said.

He eased his read back
to a 6, just enough to scrutinize Andre's thoughts for any prevarication. But
Andre played it straight, though he did a good job of mostly confining his
statement to the aforementioned items. Still, Nathan thought it would be more
than enough to support the search warrant that Archer desperately needed. It
was a near certainty that Andre's lawyer would try to stop him from making any
confession, but once they had the underwear it wouldn't matter. After Andre was
satisfied with his statement, Nathan read it with his own eyes. It looked good.

Nathan used a
handkerchief to wipe the sheen of cool sweat from his brow. Then he picked up
his phone, unmuted the speaker and summoned Laurel in to witness the statement.
Laurel was taken aback by the request but didn't balk. Nathan coordinated with
the deputies and shortly Laurel joined Nathan and Andre.

Andre leered
approvingly but Laurel remained indifferent in the face of his blatant
appraisal. Nathan had Andre sign and Laurel witness the statement without incident.
When it was done, Nathan summoned the deputy to open the cell and they were
waiting to leave when Andre asked, "Hey, what's your name, man?"

Nathan smiled and
tightened his read on Andre to a 10. Then he said, "I'm nobody, Andre. But
this here is Miss Comfort with the City Attorney's office. She took your
statement just now and will be passing it along to the prosecutor."

Andre blinked,
momentarily confused, "Oh— Right. You tell ‘em for me, Miss. Brenda's a
good girl. She got nothing to do with my troubles."

Laurel glanced at
Nathan, then back to Andre, "Of course, Andre. So long as you continue to
cooperate, I'm sure she'll be alright."

Nathan and Laurel went back in the
courtroom and the Deputies escorted Andre back to a holding area within the
jail.

Laurel stared at
Nathan, her mouth agape, but no words were forthcoming.

Nathan took out his
phone and punched up Archer who answered on the third ring, "Please tell
me you got more?" she said.

"I got your
search warrant, right here. Where are you?"

"Just down the
hall, I'll be there in a minute," Archer said and then she rang off.

"What did you do
just now, with Andre?" Laurel asked.

Nathan had a headache
and he moved to sit down in the gallery. "I just tweaked his memory a
little, so he remembers you instead of me."

"Oh, I got that,
but why?" Laurel asked, clearly agitated.

"I don't want
Andre getting a walk, okay? A good attorney might impeach that statement in
court, and then the warrant and the evidence are out. They'll argue the fourth amendment,
unreasonable search and all.
I read his fucking mind
, so yeah, how
reasonable is that?" Nathan said.

"So you expect me
to commit perjury?" Laurel asked.

"If need be— That's
how it works, Laurel. I know these prosecutors. They won't call me to
testify."

"And what about
Archer?" Laurel wondered.

"She knows the
score," Nathan muttered. He was suddenly enervated. The adrenaline ebbed and
he began to tremble.

"Did Andre really
do it?" Laurel said, her voice hushed.

"Of course he
did. I wouldn't
make
someone confess, even if I could."

"So you say, but—
My God, you're shaking," Laurel said and she moved to sit beside him. "Are
you alright?"

"He did it,
Laurel. I know it like I was there. I can tell you how much he liked it because
it's as if I did it myself. But I wasn't. I didn't. And I hate myself right now
for having his thoughts and feelings echoing inside me."

"I'm sorry,"
she whispered.

"So you see why I
can't testify, Laurel? I'd sound like a crazy person to a jury and right now
they'd be half right. There's a piece of him inside of me. And it's exhausting as
hell keeping straight who's who."

"I believe you,
Nathan. But nobody told me. I'm just an admin!" Laurel bleated.

"Yeah, I know.
That's how Fletcher works. Sink or swim, baby."

Laurel placed her arm
around his shoulders, "I think I'll keep on swimming."

Nathan took a few deep
breaths to relax.

They heard the door open
to the court. "Sorry if I'm interrupting some kind of moment here, but I've
got to see a judge about a warrant," Archer announced as she strode toward
them.

Laurel handed Archer
the statement, which she read in silence. "Fucking perfect! Bless you,
Nathan. And thanks for getting Laurel to witness. These attorneys see your name
and they break out the pitch forks!"

Archer tucked the
statement into the case file and hurried back to the door, "I gotta run.
Call you both." And she was out the door.

Laurel shook her head in wonder and gave
a little laugh. She glanced at her watch: it was still early in the afternoon,
but it felt late. She looked at Nathan but he'd closed his eyes and she
imagined he was meditating. He looked spent.

"Guess we should
call it a day," she said.

"Mind driving me
back to my office?" Nathan asked.

"I can do that,"
Laurel nodded. "What do I tell Mister Fletcher?" she added.

"If you have to
tell him anything, always make sure it's the truth," Nathan said.

It was a quiet trip back to his office, save
for a short phone call to Cindy letting her know they were finished and to
arrange transportation for Laurel. Along the way he performed his meditation
exercises. He gently tapped select acupressure points. He looked at his
reflection in the vanity mirror and told himself in a silent mantra: My name is
Nathan Miller. And he kept at it for the remainder of the car ride. It was only
marginally effective.

By the time they
parked the physical symptoms had largely abated, though Nathan was still
groggy. The mental residue wasn't so easily shed and keeping everything
properly sorted was draining.

They took the elevator
to the lobby where Nathan let off Laurel. He could tell she wanted to stay, but
he was in no shape to continue work. Besides, he wanted to purge Andre's filth
from his system lest it taint him permanently. And Laurel? She might've been
amenable to helping, but that was an unnecessary complication.
Perhaps
another time?

She looked at him with
concern and met his tepid smile with a more hopeful one.
She was lovely…

But her livery was
waiting at the curb in front of the building. And Cindy was waiting up in his
suite.

"You held your
own today, Miss Comfort. We'll start early, tomorrow. Say, 7 AM?"

She nodded in thanks, "7
AM," though a little disappointment shone through.

Nathan watched her
turn to go then closed the elevator doors. He knew she had paused and looked
back, only too late. Alas, it was for the best. Andre was still knocking about in
Nathan's head and he didn't want Laurel seeing him in such a state any longer.

Cindy understood
though. She could handle Nathan as he was. And most importantly, she didn't
know Andre, didn't know what he'd done, didn't know what Nathan had seen and
the
reaction
it had provoked. No—
Andre's
reaction. It was all
too vivid and visceral and he needed it to abate.

Cindy rose to her feet when he entered
his office. She'd been sitting on the sofa against the far wall. She seemed a
little short and Nathan noticed that she was barefoot, her heels neatly stowed
on the floor next to the couch. The blinds were drawn closed, though slivers of
daylight cut against the soft glow cast by the room's recessed lighting.

Nathan locked the door
behind him and crossed the room to her. As he closed the distance he could
better read her expression: her head was lowered slightly, further accentuating
their difference in height, and her eyes were furtive, a mixture of worry and
playfulness. He stood near, only inches away and looked down upon her. Her
breath was quick and she twiddled her fingers as if she wanted to touch him,
but was afraid to reach out.

He lifted her chin and
her lips parted in anticipation, yet she did not look at him. He'd expected as
much; he knew she was afraid of who she might see. Despite her fear, or perhaps
because
of it, she was offering herself for his taking. And while he knew
she would relish the rougher treatment that he was driven to give her, he first
wanted a moment of tenderness, if only to demonstrate that he was still in
control. He started simply with a kiss, pressing his lips to hers, his mouth
opening. Her tentative returns fast gave way to an eager caressing of her warm
lips against his. Then her tongue sought him out and joined in the embrace.

She crushed her
smaller form into his and gave a faint whimper as his arms encircled her. He
was already hard and she ground against him. Her hands, though pressed between
them, were busily loosing the buttons of her blouse. Nathan squeezed her bottom
with both hands and she gave a little squeal of delight. Cindy wriggled free of
her top and Nathan saw that her bra had been shed in anticipation of his
arrival.

Her chest swelled with
each excited breath and her breasts swayed as she removed his shirt. Nathan
wanted very much to grasp her bosom, but his hands were already occupied in
separating Cindy from her skirt. His task completed, he cupped her near-naked
cheeks and resumed massaging her ass. She gave a sigh and bucked her hips in
search of his sex but his trousers yet separated them.

She wrestled his shirt
free and tossed it fluttering to the floor. Her hands surveyed his well-muscled
shoulders and chest, then she dipped her head and took one of his nipples in
her mouth. She toyed with it using her tongue, before giving it a little
nibble. She bit harder and Nathan easily pushed her away and onto the couch.
She flashed a wicked smile, but her eyes refused to meet his directly. Instead
she watched him from the periphery of her vision as she leaned back and
shimmied out of her black panties.

Nathan had his belt
and pants undone and was about to let them drop when Cindy looked down at his
shoes and giggled. He kicked off his brown wingtips then swept them aside.
Simultaneously, off came his slacks and briefs. Meanwhile, she had stretched
out on the sofa and rolled to her hands and knees. She smiled and waved her ass
at him, slipping a hand between her legs to feel her wetness. "Take it,"
she moaned.

He joined her on the
couch pressing his naked flesh against hers. Nathan could feel her heat. He
could smell her, too. He rubbed himself against the cleft of her behind. She
groaned a little and he heard her fingers slipping back and forth as she
urgently wiggled her hips.

Then Nathan reached
out, not with his hands, but with his mind. And he quickly found Cindy's
frequency as he knew her so well. She was so turned on that it almost
overwhelmed him, but he quickly regained control and dialed down his read to a
3. Then he teased her sex, but refrained from entering her.

She reached for him
and whimpered, "Please."

He held her hips fast,
preventing her from controlling the pace, then he slowly pressed into her eager
body.

"Ah…" she
gasped in satisfaction.
And he felt it, too, both her pleasure and his own.

He took it slow at
first, despite her insistency.

And then he delved
deeper, until he was fully engulfed. Cindy moaned with each thrust and she
braced herself against the arm of the sofa.

"Harder,"
she hissed.

But she needn't have
said a word as Nathan already knew what she wanted. And so he wanted it, too,
and he began to pound against her. The sounds of their thighs slapping inspired
him and he smacked her backside, alternating hands until each cheek glowed
pink.

"Oh. Fuck. Yes,"
she said, punctuating his series of strikes, at first with words, and then merely
with grunts.

She was close. And so
was he. He slowed his pace a touch, taking long, deep strokes. Nathan could
feel it all, the sensation made him near delirious. He was giving and taking;
there was no telling where his pleasure ended and where hers began. It was just
one big feedback loop of glorious sensation and it was exactly what he needed
to purge all of the foreign crud from his system. He turned his read up to a 6
and gasped as his body shook from the jolt, but still he pressed on.

He sped up again. Her
hand was a blur between her legs. His grip on her hips was almost painfully
strong. He was driving deep. And she was squeezing, tighter and tighter with
each thrust. The climax approached, then ebbed, before nearing closer still.

So close, so tight.

So hard, and tense.

The push and pull, until
all was taut, despite the desperate motion, as she pulled him in, quivering and
shaking.

And in the excitement,
Nathan turned his read up to 10. Instantly, it overwhelmed them. It was pure
feeling, pure sensation. All thoughts were obliterated.

She was wailing –
cries of nonsensical bliss – and he shared in the joy, shouting exaltations of
his own. Explosions of pleasure rippled throughout them both until they were
exhausted.

Cindy slumped upon the
couch and Nathan collapsed behind her. The last of the tremors subsided as he
spooned her and then they were still. Their union faded as a powerful slumber
overtook them. And it was a dreamless, peaceful, most welcome sleep.

It was almost dark when Nathan and Cindy
awoke. They left the office together and drove to his apartment. Once there,
she fixed them a simple, yet ample meal to sate their hunger. Nathan didn't
talk much before dinner, but he enjoyed her easy company nonetheless. Cindy
knew her way around his place and didn't need him to entertain her which gave
him some space in which to think. But he didn't think too hard. They hadn't
talked about what happened, but he was sure it would surface.

After dinner they
relaxed together on his sofa and Cindy asked, "So… what happened today?"

He knew what she was
after but he played dumb.

And she knew it, too.
So she simply pressed on, "I mean, it was
amazing
. Scary, but
amazing
."

He nodded for her to
continue.

"I just want to
know if it means something. If that was your way of trying to tell me
something."

Nathan replied, "I
just got caught up in the moment."

"Okay. That's
what I thought. And not that I minded. I just wasn't expecting…"

"A double-sided
psychic orgasm?" Nathan said with a grin.

Cindy laughed, "I
mean, it's always been
great
. And I know when you're in that mode— I can
tell that it's extra intense for you. That's why it works right? But, to be
right there with you…"

"It can be pretty
intense, even if you know what's going to happen," Nathan said.

Cindy nodded and a few
tears escaped her eyes.

"Cindy?"
Nathan asked.

She shook her head and
smiled, "I'm okay. Just thinking back to it— And I don't know why, okay?"

"Okay," he
nodded.

She leaned against him
and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. And she wiped her eyes and stared
out the window at the city lights.

After a while she
smiled and squeezed his hand. He didn't have to be psychic to know what she was
thinking – that it
had
meant something – and who was to say that she was
wrong? He'd turned to her, had he not? As he so often did when he was ragged
and vulnerable. And she knew it, too. More than ever, she understood how he
used the power of sex to purge his system of the echoes of other minds.

She'd experienced firsthand
something that he'd shared with few others. He was normally more disciplined
for good reason; he'd known of people becoming
addicted
. No, addiction
wasn't the correct term, it was
enslaved
. He cared for Cindy too much to
do that to her. The danger posed was another reason for remaining aloof and for
entertaining a rotation of amenable women. That and the law of diminishing
returns. As hot and sexy as Cindy was – or any woman, for that matter – the
more frequently they coupled, the less effective it was at purging his system.
Not that sex didn't have its own compelling rewards…

So Cindy spent the night,
as she did on occasion, and he was relieved by her request for
"normal" sex. So they made love, the old fashioned, non-psychic
bonded way and it was nice, familiar, and comfortable. Quiet, too. Then they
fell asleep in bed like civilized, respectable people. And for all of their
faults, it was just what they needed.