Chapter Eight
From the police station bathroom stall, safe from prying eyes, I teleport home.
There, I open my laptop and plug in the address Sherbet texted me.
The house is in La Habra, not far. Normally, I’d let the cops handle it, but Jamie’s mom’s boyfriend, Trent, has no idea his story’s blown.
And if he thinks Jamie’s sacrifice has bought him some freedom, he might do something stupid or seriously dangerous.
Thanks to Google Maps and its ‘street view’ option, I have a landing place in mind. I summon the single flame and make the leap...
And find myself standing under a lemon tree in the Rodriguez’s tidy front yard, bathed in dappled sunlight.
Admittedly, I still hate daylight, but that’s mostly PTSD talking.
Shifting from blood vamp to energy vamp cured me of the sunlight issues, among other things.
Still, the memory of my skin smoking and burning is only a few years removed.
I shove my issues aside and head up the walkway and knock. A woman answers. Mid-fifties. Steel-gray eyes. She looks like someone who hasn’t slept in days.
“Marlene Rodriguez?” I venture.
“Yes?”
“I’m with the Fullerton Police,” I show her my badge—yes, Sherbet gave me one years ago, though I question its authenticity. “Your son made a statement to us this morning, and we have a few follow-up questions. May I come in?”
She hesitates, then steps aside. The house is small but cozy.
The TV’s on mute, tuned to a local news channel.
A framed photo of her and her son sits beside a mug half-full of what appears to be cold tea.
I sit on the arm of a nearby recliner and watch her sit on the couch, clutching the throw pillow like a life vest.
I don’t say anything for a long moment. Instead, I reach out with my mind, and soon see what she sees, know what she knows.
There are no secrets with me, unless someone is immortal.
Every police department should employ someone like me; in fact, I’ve often considered offering my services far and wide.
But in my heart, I know the system works best when good cops trust their instincts, when fair judges weigh the evidence, and when both sides argue passionately for what they believe is right.
Yes, I’m putting a lot of faith in the good of humanity.
The system isn’t built for a mind-reading vampire who can see straight into the soul. But, in my small corner of the world, I’m happy to help when needed.
“You’re scared,” I say gently, to which she flinches. “You think Jamie really did it, that your son murdered your friend.”
Her eyes widen with some semblance of hope. “But didn’t he?” she whispers.
“No,” I say softly. “He didn’t.”
Tears fill her eyes. “But... he confessed.”
“To protect you.”
Her hands tremble. “Oh, God…”
I lean forward. “Marlene… what do you know about Trent?”
She stiffens.
“I saw your boyfriend in Jamie’s memory admitting to what he did. Threatening your life if Jamie didn’t go along with the plan.” I hold her gaze. “You’ve been with him for how long?”
“You... you saw it in his mind?”
“I should probably mention I’m a psychic vampire and ace mind reader,” I say, then promptly erase this exchange from her mind; instead, I add.
“I’m a psychic for the police. I see things, know things.
I’m pretty good at what I do. I know, for instance, you had two cups of coffee with Chobani vanilla creamer this morning.
You made some oatmeal but you didn’t actually eat it. ”
“Oh, my...”
Next, I command her to believe what I’m telling her, then ask her again to tell me what she knows about Trent, which will save me from a lot of time digging around in her mind.
She swallows. “Met him almost two years ago. He’s… intense. But good to me. He gets angry sometimes, but...”
“But what?”
Her voice lowers. “He didn’t like Kayla. She used to live with me. He said she was nosy. Said she stared at him too much and was always in the way.”
“Was she your friend?” I say.
Marlene nods slowly. “Yeah. She used to babysit Jamie. I’ve known her for many years. She had this big, goofy laugh… always lit up a room.”
Her throat tightens. “But she wasn’t safe here anymore.
A few months ago, she and Trent had a fight.
He hit her. I wasn’t home when it happened.
.. and came back to find her sobbing. She told me he threatened to kill her.
Said he’d make her disappear. So I asked Jamie to take her in.
He’d just gotten his own two-bedroom apartment.
I knew he needed money help, and she could pay for her room.
Anyway, it was just going to be for a little while.
Until she could find her own place. Jamie didn’t balk.
I think he always had a little crush on her. ”
“Then Trent showed up at Jamie’s place,” I said.
“I can see into people’s minds, Marlene, I can read their thoughts.
I want you to believe me when I say this.
Do you believe me? Good. I saw Trent threaten your son and admit to killing Kayla.
I saw his confession. He thought he would get away with it, and for some reason, thought it would be a good idea to threaten Jamie to confess to a murder he didn’t commit. ”
Her breath catches. “That’s just so crazy...”
“Crazier than your son killing your friend and his new roommate, a friend he had a crush on for probably many years?”
Memories flood into her mind, no prompting needed by me: Trent coming home late on the night in question, going straight to the garage, running the washing machine and dryer, the sharp smell of bleach wafting through the house.
A box of garbage bags that vanished from the kitchen.
Bruises on his forearms she hadn’t wanted to ask about.
And then the next day... news of Kayla, murdered.
“You know he did it, but you just didn’t want to believe it.”
“I mean, Jamie admitted to it! I told myself… maybe my son snapped. Maybe they argued and things got out of hand.” Her face twists. “Maybe they were even romantic and it turned ugly.”
“You need to tell the truth,” I say. “To Sherbet. And to Jamie. He’s sitting in a holding cell right now, protecting you.”
I give her the nudge she needs to do the right thing. She covers her face. “Oh God, what have I done?”
“You can still fix this and take a monster off the streets,” I say gently. “Start by talking to the police. Then pack your things. Trent’s going to be arrested tonight, and trust me, you don’t want to be here when that happens.”
She nods, slowly. “Okay, okay.”
I rise to leave but pause at the threshold. “He has a hold on you, doesn’t he?”
“I can’t explain it, Ms. Moon. I do whatever he says. I go along with it, even when I don’t want to.”
I nod. The dude is definitely a practitioner in... something. What, exactly, I don’t know. But he knows enough to manipulate minds and energy.
“Are the bags still here, you think?” I ask.
She goes still. Then nods. “I think I saw them in the trash can after he cleaned them, though. He told me not to touch anything, and I haven’t.
” She buries her face in her hands. As she does, I root around in her mind, and see the energetic hooks he has in her.
There are hundreds of them. It will take me a good deal of time to remove them.
I command her to come see the next day, and she nods.
I hand her my card. I’ll work on her in the privacy of my office and clear his hold on her.
But first, I make sure there isn’t one crazy overriding suggestion he’s planted, like a kill switch.
Anything that might force her to end things for herself, and I don’t see anything that glaring, just minor suggestions controlling her basic behavior and thought patterns.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I say. “I promise.”
I squeeze her shoulder and step outside. I’ve planted enough commands in her that she should be singing like a canary soon. And yes, my commands override his.
The sun’s setting. I take a breath of clean air, summon the single flame, and see the police station’s visitor bathroom again...