Wiccan, A Witchy Young Adult Paranormal Romance (6 page)

“
Of course. That’s the only
way I can verify your whereabouts.” His tone said all that was
missing was a
duh!
at the end of that sentence.

“
Ok, here’s the thing. My
parents don’t know that I came to you with that…information. In
fact, they don’t know about my visions at all.”

“
Uh-huh,” he said
suspiciously.

“
It’s not like that. I’ve
just never wanted to worry them. I mean, you have to admit, it
sounds crazy, right?” I took the silence that answered me as
agreement. “So you see, I’ve just never told them. They’d probably
have me in therapy for the rest of my life.”

“
And yet you expect me, a
total stranger, to believe you?”

I thought for a minute about
how to answer that. “Not really, but I
had
to come to you. I felt like I had
to risk looking like an idiot if there was any chance that it could
save Lisa’s life.”

The silence that I met with
this time was a little different. Not that it was probably possible
to tell over the phone, but I imagined that Detective Grayson was
giving me kudos for acting despite the unsavory
consequences
.
He
seemed like the type that would admire things like that.

“
I’m sorry, but I’ll still
need to talk to them. You understand that it’s procedure right?
Part of my job?”

I immediately had a little
more respect for him. He didn’t necessarily
want
to out me to my parents, he just
felt like he had no choice.

In my head, I was sifting through
options for damage control. Then I found one.

“
Hey, couldn’t you just tell
them that you are interviewing all the…I don’t know…or maybe you’re
interviewing a random sampling of students and…I don’t know.
Couldn’t you make up with something that will sound plausible to my
parents without alerting them to the fact that their daughter is a
freak of nature?”

I heard a sigh on the other
end of the phone so I swooped in to take advantage of his moment of
weakness. “I mean, I
did
try to do the right thing. I
did
come to you with information,
albeit crazy information. But it was all that I had. Don’t you
think I deserve a little consideration for that? You owe
me.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and
crossed my fingers, hoping that I hadn’t overplayed my hand with
the
you owe me
bit.

After another deep sigh, Detective
Grayson said five truly beautiful words. “Alright. I’ll think of
something.”

Though he hung up without another word,
I still felt better, like disaster had been averted.

Unfortunately, because Detective
Grayson didn’t mention when he’d be coming by to talk to my
parents, I was on pins and needles for the rest of the day. I was
jumpy and nervous, but by the looks my parents were exchanging, I’d
say they chalked it up to a normal reaction to Lisa’s death. And
that was fine with me, of course. I’d milk that and use it for as
long as I could. It could come in handy for excusing a multitude of
odd behaviors.

I tried to read a new book I’d
downloaded for my Kindle, but I finally gave up after I’d read the
same paragraph four different times and still had no idea what it
said. After that I decided to throw my energy into cleaning. Mom
would be thrilled, the house would look great for the cops and it
would get my mind off the situation with Lisa. It was a win-win
situation.

Only it didn’t work out nearly as well
as I’d anticipated. For one thing, our house isn’t all that big.
It’s a brick ranch that has three bedrooms, two and a half baths, a
kitchen and living room, a small office and a formal dining room. I
whipped through cleaning it in, like, two hours and that was mostly
because Mom is a seriously (though undiagnosed) OCD person who
never lets the house get very messy to start with.

On top of that, it turns out cleaning
is a fairly mindless task and my thoughts had more than ample time
and space to wander. And guess what they wondered to. Yep.
Lisa.

At one point, I considered calling
Detective Grayson to see what time he planned to come by, but I
stopped myself. I didn’t want him to perceive my nerves as arising
from a guilty conscience.

It wasn’t until after supper that
evening that he actually showed up. I was on the couch looking
through a Cosmo magazine when I heard a door slam in the driveway.
My heart started pounding and I could feel a cold sweat break out
on my brow.

At first I was going to let Mom answer
the door, but then I decided it would look more natural if I did
it. So I waited for the doorbell and then got up and walked slowly
to the door. With my hand on the knob, I took two deep breaths
before I opened it.

Detective Grayson was standing on the
stoop, looking dapper and professional in dark gray slacks and a
slate blue dress shirt with a black sports coat. His tie was black
with gray and blue geometric shapes on it. A very cool tie as far
as I was concerned and I wondered if he dressed so well all the
time and, if so, who dressed him.

I looked at him meaningfully and, with
a roll of his eyes, he went along with the plan and introduced
himself as any stranger would. He asked if he could come in and
speak with me, playing the part perfectly.

I opened the door and ushered him
inside, looking behind him for a partner. Thank God he was alone.
I’d worried a little about him having to bring someone else,
someone that would mess up our plan. I was glad to see that wasn’t
the case, so when I smiled in greeting, it was wide with
relief.

I walked him into the living then
hollered for Mom and Dad. Within minutes they both came from
different directions—Dad from the garage and Mom from the
office.

Before we walked into the living room,
I introduced everyone around. “Mom, Dad, this is Detective Grayson.
He’s with the Arville Police Department. He’s got some questions
for us.”

I turned to Detective Grayson and said,
“And these are my parents, Roger and Sharon Holloway.”

We took seats in the living room. The
detective sat in Dad’s recliner and the three of us sat on the
couch, a united front against him. He didn’t appear to be the least
bit intimidated, though, casually leaning forward and resting his
elbows on his knees.

He began by explaining that he was
working Lisa’s case and that he’d interviewed her close friends,
but wanted to get a sampling of those who were merely acquainted
with her from school. I watched my parents’ reaction and they
didn’t even bat an eye. They both eagerly expressed their
willingness to help in any way they could in bringing her killer to
justice.

Detective Grayson directed his first
questions to me, asking how I knew Lisa and if I’d seen her Monday
night. Then he asked where I was and, when I explained that I was
home with my parents, they readily supported my claim. I thought
he’d leave it at that, but he didn’t.

“
So you two never met Lisa?
She was never here to visit Mercy?”

They both answered
negatively.

“
Did you hear Mercy make
mention of Lisa very often?” Detective Grayson asked.

“
Actually,” my mom said. “I
don’t think I ever heard Mercy mention her at all.”

“
And how familiar are you
with your daughter’s friends? With her social and extracurricular
activities?”

I felt a pinch between my eyebrows as
they drew together in a frown. I had to purposely relax those
muscles so it would go away. I reminded myself that I had done
nothing wrong and I should have nothing to fear.

“
I’d say pretty familiar,”
Mom answered. “Mercy’s a good kid. She’s never really gotten into
trouble. She’s always obeyed her curfew and had respectable
friends. In fact, since most of her friends went away to college,
she hasn’t been out much at all. We were hoping she’d meet some new
people at school.”

Now I was sounding like some sort of
pathetic and reclusive pariah. Poor clueless Mercy. Thanks,
Mom!

Detective Grayson just nodded and made
notes in the folder he carried. “So you haven’t noticed anything
odd in her behavior lately? Nothing worrisome?”

Still relaxed and nonchalant, both my
parents answered negatively.

“
Mercy’s a good kid,” my Dad
reiterated.

“
What is your route to
school, Mercy?”

I explained how I walked to school and
he noted something in his folder, nodding all the while. When I was
finished, he closed the folder and slid the pen he’d been using
into the inside pocket of his jacket. When he rose, we did,
too.

“
Mercy, would you mind
taking me along the path you walk to school?”

At first, I was surprised that he would
want to take me without my parents, but then I remembered that I’m
an adult. He didn’t have to ask their permission because they have
no say in it.

But
I
do,
I
thought rebelliously. For just a moment, I considered refusing him.
But it was a fleeting notion. When it was gone, I quickly consented
and went to grab my shoes. I could hear Detective Grayson’s low
tones as he talked with my parents. I hurried as much as I could,
not comfortable leaving him alone with them for any longer than was
necessary.

I dashed back into the living room.
“Are you ready Detective Grayson?” He nodded, thanked my parents,
gave them his card and then we walked to the door. Once we were out
in the street, way out of earshot, I breathed a sigh of relief and
spoke.

“
Thank you so much for doing
that, Detective Grayson.”

“
Not a problem,” he said,
eyes on the road ahead.

We walked in silence all the way to the
spot where I’d seen Lisa. I stopped on the sidewalk, several feet
from it.

“
Is this it? I thought you
said it was in the grass.”

“
It’s right over there,” I
said, pointing to the exact location. I had no trouble remembering
the precise spot because there was a large rock to the right of
it.

Detective Grayson walked into the grass
and looked around. Luckily it was still technically summer and the
days were long. We were still in full daylight, though the sky was
starting to develop that orangey glow that promised sunset was on
its way.

“
Right here?” He was
pointing in the general vicinity that I had indicated. I nodded.
“Why are you still standing there?”

“
Sometimes I can see the
murders every time I pass over the spot, sometimes not. I’m not
willing to risk it.”

“
You’re saying there’s a
chance that you could have the entire vision again? In perfect
clarity?”

“
Yes, Detective Grayson,
but—”

“
Just call me Grayson,” he
said sharply. “Look, I’m going to have to insist that you come over
here then. If you can see it again, I need as much detail as you
can give me.”

I opened my mouth to argue,
but snapped it shut when I thought better of it. It was just one
more viewing. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen it before. But
regardless, as I stepped off the sidewalk and into the grass, a
cold chill worked its way down my spine. I was getting ready to see
the murder of a girl, a girl I’d sat behind in class only a few
days ago. Though I’d been having visions almost all my life, this
one was very different and it was scaring me. Turns out that seeing
the victim
alive
put a totally different spin on things.

With each step I took closer to the
site, my breathing got shallower and shallower. When my feet were
nearly standing on the spot where Lisa had lain, I held my breath
in preparation for the onslaught. But it never came. Air rushed out
of my lungs in a whoosh of relief when I realized I wasn’t going to
get the vision again.

“
I don’t see
anything.”

Disappointment was evident on Grayson’s
face. “Alright, back up then. I don’t want you to contaminate the
crime scene,” he said.

Crime scene? Taking several steps
backward, I couldn’t help but be a little encouraged by his
statement. It said that he believed me, which was a pretty big
surprise to me.

“
So tell me again what you
saw. Don’t leave out anything.”

As I went through the murder again,
Grayson made notes, asked questions and walked the perimeter of the
scene. At one point I saw him squat down and focus on something,
but I was too far away to see what it was. He stood abruptly and
pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched in some numbers.
I heard his end of the conversation, which was to call in the crime
scene to Dispatch so they could send in the troops.

Within a few minutes, a uniformed
officer arrived in a marked car. He got out and approached Grayson.
The officer handed him a plastic baggy and tweezers and Grayson
bent to pick something up then deposited it in the bag. It was so
small I couldn’t even make out what it was.