Chapter Eight

Emma, Sam and Wes reached the house quickly. Audrey had roused by the time they’d arrived, but was groggy and barely coherent. The ambulance arrived about ten minutes later.

Wes fussed over the whole proceeding while the EMTs checked on Audrey and got her onto the gurney. She was conscious and more alert, and Wes determined she’d had a panic attack followed by a fainting spell. According to him, Audrey had them with increasing frequency lately due to some of her medications. He verified the pill bottle was at the end of its run, and at best, she had only one anti-anxiety pill available to use. She’d checked out okay with no injuries, but the EMTS were going to run her into the hospital for tests since she was growing agitated.

Emma couldn’t help but feel pity for Audrey, regardless of her role in what happened to Jen. Audrey had once been a beautiful woman blessed with the aristocratic features common to the old Saratoga families. She still had signs of the beauty but drugs and mania had wasted it. Her fearful black eyes darted back and forth in panic, like a trapped animal seeking escape.

When the EMTs prepared to move her, she tried to sit up, pulling wildly against the gurney straps. “He’s here. He was right behind you. He came to me. So angry! Tell them, please. Tell them I’m not crazy.”

“Easy dear,” Wesley said. He had a medical bag with him now, and from it, he produced a bottle and syringe. He began drawing up fluid from the bottle. “She’s cycling up for another panic attack. She sometimes acts out physically. I’m going to administer a small dose of valium to calm her down.”

The EMTs didn’t want to argue with the doctor. As if to reinforce what he said, Audrey became violent, thrashing in her hold. “He’s here,” she cried, tears flowing across her pale skin. “We can’t stop him. We can’t we can’t we can’t we can’t we can’t.”

The run of words reminded Emma of Jen.

“Who is he?” she said, stepping closer to the agitated woman. “Tell me his name.”

A strange energy came over the room. The air grew cold and still.

Audrey looked up at her with different eyes. “Where’s my necklace? Keith is angry. Need to find the diamonds. Need to find the truth.” She appeared to calm for a moment, catching her breath. Wes took the opportunity to grab the IV line and push the needle into a port. Audrey laughed eerily as the medicine raced into her veins. Then her face went slack, her eyes vacant.

“Run, Emma. Run.” Her voice was calm and clearly not her own. “He’ll get you. Like he got me. Run. Or die.”

Emma’s heart froze in her chest. The urge to flee was almost irresistible, but she forced herself to stay rooted to the spot. The rest of the crowd was too shocked to react. Emma recognized a channel when she saw it, and leapt at her one chance to speak with Jen face to face.

“Who is he, Jen? Name your killer.”

“Name him name him name him. You’re not safe. Runrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrun.”

Audrey’s eyelids fluttered and she groaned. “Wesley, take me home. I need my medicine. I need...” the rest of her words faded as the valium took effect and she drifted into a drug induced slumber.

Wesley looked at Emma, sizing her up. “You called her Jen.”

“She was channeling Jen’s spirit.”

“I can’t accept that,” he said. “She’s a delusional, sick woman. You can’t take what she said seriously.”

Emma knew this game intimately. If Wesley weren’t a person of interest in Sam’s investigation, she’d lay into him. Instead, she gave the appearance of acquiescence. For the moment. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have played into her delusion.”

“People don’t know how unstable she is.” Wesley appeared placated by her response. He didn’t seem to notice she was lying through her teeth. She’d found the chink in the cool exterior armor. Vanity driven by ego. He played at easygoing, but the need to save face, to appear in control in the crowd, revealed another side of him. Emma filed it away for future use. Wesley was either genuinely guileless or a consummate liar, and Emma believed no one was completely without guile.

“I’m going with her to the hospital. The police can take my statement later,” he said to Jake Meyer, and then to Sam, “We can finish our talk at another time. I need to get her settled, make sure she’s okay.”

Sam nodded, and the small piece of theater ended. Emma knew that the ‘straights’, as the normal people were called by many in the psychic community, would jump at any rational explanation rather than face the fact that there was more to the world than you could see or explain away rationally. The front parlor emptied, and soon she and Sam were alone. The furor died down, and fear set in.

“That was one hell of a warning from the other side.” Sam took her hands in his. The contact sent waves of heat surging through her. “Anytime you want out, say the word. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Emma wanted badly to shrug the whole incident off, but the truth was, she was scared. She wanted to turn her back, but she couldn’t. Not this deep into things. “I’m in for the long haul. You know that.”

Sam’s arms came around her, sealing her in the safety of his embrace. She leaned into his warmth and strength, not caring that each time she gave in a little made it that much harder to walk away in the end.

Emma rested her head on his shoulder. “What comes next?”

“They’ll pull what they found out of the lake, send it to the crime lab. Have it processed. It will take time. The new evidence may be the break we need.”

Jake Meyer leaned into the room. “Got two deputies ready for statements.”

Emma pulled away from Sam, strangely guilty for the moment of stolen pleasure amidst the stark horror of the day. “Guess it’s a good thing I have an alibi for when Jen was killed and Brad Heath went missing.”

The Mayor’s stern expression remained unchanged. “It looks mighty suspicious, you knowing right where he was.”

“I’m here because I’m a psychic. I had a vision, same as in any other cold case I’ve worked.” Well, not quite the same, but he didn’t need the details.

“I agree completely, but you know the deal: cops are cops. Everyone’s a suspect. Everyone’s capable of committing the worst crimes. We like our evidence, chain of custody, and cold hard facts. The woo-woo stuff’s too hard to quantify, and there are too many quacks out there plying the trade. It’s just a statement of the facts, so don’t worry too much.”

It struck Emma that Jake Meyer still thought of himself as a cop. Same as Sam. Dependable men cut from a similar cloth, cops to the core regardless of what walk of life they found themselves in. His words relaxed her, soothed any ruffled feathers she might be sticking up in her own defense. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jake nodded. “Before we go, either of you want to tell me what that stuff Audrey was hollering was all about?”

“Probably what Wes said,” Sam jumped in.

The mayor frowned deeply, etching craggy lines in his weathered face. “Let me tell you something that never leaves this room. When I was an MP I worked a murder. This Major got shot at Fort Gordon in Georgia. Key piece of intel disappeared. All ends were dead. What went missing was very important, so was the guy who got shot. The Army Criminal Intelligence Division brought in a psychic out of sheer desperation. All of it done on the classified side. I was assigned to guard her while she worked the case.”

Jake’s admission shocked Emma, but it explained why he acted on Sam’s say so alone in pulling in the state to search the lake.

“Long story short, she did the job, except she almost got killed in the process. She kept me in the dark about a few important details.” He folded his arms across his chest, radiating nothing short of sheer menace. “Don’t be stupid like that. If there’s more going on, now is the time to let me know. Not when it’s too late.”

Sam looked to Emma for guidance. She nodded, and Sam brought the mayor up to speed with the quick version of all the spirit activity taking place at the lodge. He also told him about Wes Vaughn’s concerns with Audrey’s strange behavior.

“I know it sounds crazy,” Sam finished. “But it’s the truth.”

Sam believed her. And what’s more, he went public with that belief. Something inside her shifted, something deep and intense. With it came a whole new level of fear: she was falling for him. Falling hard and fast with no safety net or way to stop her descent.

“You’ve made progress with crazy, I’d say it’s working for you,” Jake replied. “I don’t think this house is safe. Any chance I can talk you into moving into town until we clean this thing up?”

“We’re here until the end.”

“That’s what I thought. How about you let me post some deputies? Guys would like the overtime, money being so tight these days.”

Emma worried that the additional people on the grounds might block the energy, but there was merit to what Jake offered. Sam wanted his own men from his agency, Lost and Found, but concern over any implications of an improper investigation were very real.

In the end Sam agreed to deputies and they worked out a schedule, but Sam refused to stop his own investigation. The compromise went down hard, but Emma felt a glimmer of hope, knowing that at least on some levels her skills were recognized, wanted, and respected. Her reception in Meyerville was far different from her other experiences with law enforcement, just as her feelings for Sam were far different from those for any other man she’d ever met. So much was changing—her feelings, her psychic skills, all the things she believed to be true.

She should have seen at least some of this coming. Other than her sense of foreboding, though, none of this had materialized on her radar when she’d done a few readings prior to agreeing to accept the job. She smiled ruefully, thinking how foolish she’d been. Her boss Eric had a saying, that there was no one as blind as psychics attempting to read for themselves. She couldn’t turn back, but she was uncertain what future now lay ahead. Not the one she planned. And not the one she wished for in her dreams.