Psychic Series Boxset: Books 1-3 Read online

  Lance obeyed immediately.

  Good boy. Maybe there was hope for him? But not much for us.

  “Teresa,” he began.

  “No, shut it.” Rude or not, it was time to take control of this situation “Lance, we’re just at two different places in our lives right now. Maybe in a year or two, things would have worked out between us but as things stand now I think it’s best if we part ways as friends,” I paused taking a deep breath, “You really should slow down with the booze too.”

  “You're a spunky brat you know that?” Lance went to lift the bottle up again and caught himself with a grimace. “And I'm not an alcoholic, if that’s what you’re implying. I enjoy a good vintage with my meal, it's called class, little girl.”

  Little girl? Oh, no he didn't.

  I grabbed his water glass and felt the satisfaction of a hundred romance heroines as I heaved it into his face. I almost ruined my exit by forgetting my bag but a kind older lady at the next table shouted out, “Your purse! Hit him with it!” Which thankfully reminded me. That would have been embarrassing to have to return for it.

  “Thanks!”

  She shot me double thumbs up before fixing Lance with dark glare as if daring him to say or do anything. Judging by the size of the bag at her feet he would be wise to stay quiet and seated.

  Which he did, though I did overhear him loudly ordering the waiter to bring him another bottle of wine.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  I had got tired of waiting for some details out of either John or Lotte so I called John and flat out asked him.

  Empty air followed.

  “Are you still made about the firefighter carnival? I thought setting you up with Lotte made up for that and then some.”

  A gusty sigh blew into my eardrums. “Look, T, I’m not mad. It happens, old guys bust gaskets all the time. Sorry if I kinda went off on you. As for Lotte, I blew it.”

  “Oh no, what happened?” I felt crushed. My matchmaking efforts a bust.

  “I don’t know, I went and got my haircut…”

  I cut in, “I noticed, it looks good.” I didn’t add ‘for once’, though it was definitely on my mind and perhaps implied.

  John didn’t pick up on that at all, running his hand over his semi-neat hair. “Thanks. Yeah, so we were chatting, I thought things were going well, got her number.”

  “And?!” He was killing me here! “Cut to the part where you royally screwed up already?!”

  “Geez whiz, be blunt why don’t you,” John said, his voice small and hurt sounding.

  Somehow my thoughts had been super loud or I had actually spoken them out loud- oops!

  “Sorry, John, a lot going on. I broke up with Lance.”

  “Aww…and here I’ve been a lousy friend while you’re dealing with a broken heart. I’m sorry. You wanna get a bite and talk?”

  Who needed girlfriends when I had John? “Sounds good,” I said.

  “Subs at JT’s okay?”

  JT’s was a small sub place right around the corner from the Station Ten.

  “Sounds great.” And it did, JT’s made a mean sub stuffed to bursting on freshly baked bread.

  “Meet me there in twenty, okay?”

  “Okay.” I hung up and only then realized I was still in my cat hair coated clothes from earlier. Running upstairs, I debated if I had time to shower. A quick whiff told me I needed to make the time.

  After a fast scrub, I changed into jean shorts, a Billy Ocean t-shirt that I had picked up who knows where and stuck my feet into some wore comfy sandals. Raking my hair back into a messy ponytail, I grabbed my purse from its spot still on the living room floor and I was out the door, only running five minutes behind and on my way to JT’s.

  John was already there and had snagged us a red checked plastic tablecloth covered mini-table. The tablecloth was so long it sagged on the floor and I stepped on it as I took a seat opposite him. I slung my purse over the back of my chair since I didn’t trust the cleanness of the floor. Then I gave John my order. He went to the counter and returned moments later with two filled soda glasses. He was wearing a fitted red t-shirt and I noticed that he must have upped his workouts, the short sleeves showcased long ropey arm muscles.

  We made idle chitchat until our order number was called. After John set our two paper-wrapped subs on the table, we got down to serious talk as we ate.

  “So, what happened with Lotte? She’s not going to turn my hair orange next time as revenge over you, is she?” I was only half-joking. I was sure Lotte was far more professional than that-but if our positions had been reversed I don’t know if I could have had the same restraint.

  “Nah, nothing dreadful like that.” He took a huge bite, chewed for a moment before continuing on with the sub still rolling around in his mouth. “I picked her up for dinner, we went to 1776. Awesome place! Super food, pricey but I wanted to take her somewhere nice.”

  I nodded encouragingly. So far so good. I had to hand it to John, he had done well with his choice of restaurants.

  “Things seemed fine, then the bill came and I asked her how she wanted to split it.”

  I paused in the process of taking a bite. The sub dangled in my hands a mere inch from my mouth, then I lowered it. “Excuse me? Did you seriously ask about splitting the bill?”

  “Yeah, I saw an article about how today’s women feel insulted by a man paying for things.”

  I opened my mouth, thought better of it and closed it. Now, I’m fine paying my own way- like tonight but I fully expected a man to pay when taking me out on a date. It didn’t matter how many zeros I had behind a few numbers in my bank account. Call me sexist, I preferred plain old-fashioned but give me a man who was polite, held doors, and observed some other social niceties.

  Taking a deep breath, I had myself under control before opening my mouth again. “Okay, so you read a really dumb article that gave you horribly bad advice. How did Lotte take it?”

  “She was fine! Pulled out her phone and calculated everything, including the tip.”

  That surprised me, maybe I was the one in the wrong here. “Then once again, how did you goof up?”

  “I’m getting to that. So, we left and I asked if she wanted to go back to my place and watch a movie.”

  “Too soon,” I moaned while taking a slurp of my coke.

  “Not at all,” John replied polishing off his sub. “The trouble started when we got to my place and I asked about watching IT. Lotte was into it, said she was a big Stephen King fan too. But when she realized it was the new IT movie, she told me it wasn’t worth her time and that the original with Tim Curry was a million times better. Well, that was just nonsense and I told her so. I mean SK himself likes the new version.

  I groaned, my head dropping down.

  John ignored my theatrics. “So, we argued for a few then she stomped out.”

  “What happened when you called to apologize?”

  “Apologize?! For what? She should have been the one to apologize for being way too rigid in her viewpoint. The original was fine for when it came out but the new one befits from CGI.”

  “CGI?” I couldn’t help asking.

  “Computer-generated imagery,” John said giving me a look as if I should have known that.

  People, two people that I had thought to be fairly sane, actually thought like this. I rubbed my left temple in slow circles to massage away the headache I felt developing.

  “And while I said on the phone that I blew it, reflecting I think it’s better this all came out now.”

  That stopped my head rubbing. John did have a point. I imagined what would have happened if this bit of idiocy was uncovered on say, their honeymoon. Up to Main to see Stephen King’s house perhaps? I snorted and John gave me a look full of innocent concern.

  “Okay, enough about me, T. What happened between you and lover boy lawyer?”

  Oh, that slammed my headache back in full force. “Something similar, John, different lives and interests. Our worlds
would never align.”

  “The ghost thing?”

  “Kinda,” I replied, not wanting to get into that too much.

  “Really? I thought things were going great for the two of you. You were always together. Every time I messaged or called, you were with him and took your sweet time getting back to me.”

  I drank the last of my soda, letting a few pieces of ice slide into my mouth which I crunched on. “Sorry about that. I was neglecting a lot of things in my life. The volunteers at Whisker Kisses even had an intervention.”

  “Ha! That is hilarious.” Then his blue eyes grew wide. “Say, I didn’t know you had a drug problem. They do say friends are the last to know.” He laid a large, sweaty hand on top of mine, pressing it into the sticky tablecloth. “You know I’m her for you,” he said earnestly.

  John was such a dolt. But also, one of the sweetest guys I knew so I didn’t laugh in his face about him thinking I had a drug problem. “Thanks, John, I don’t have a drug problem. If I did you would absolutely be the first one to know. I’ve been skirting my duties at the rescue and people were concerned so they called me out on it.”

  “T, that’s your baby…” he began.

  I cut him off, “It’s true I let my relationship with Lance compromise my time. It was the wake-up call I needed.”

  “Just marry the guy. Married people don’t spend half the time together that they did when they were just dating.”

  Now I did laugh. “Come on, let’s get out of here, the place is getting busy and we’re holding up a table.”

  We both stood, John ushering me to go first. Dumping our trash in the waste bins by the door on our way out, we walked side by side to our vehicles. He leaned against the car next to my SUV and opened his arms.

  Stepping into his hug, I felt the secure warmth of his friendship envelop me as his long arms held me close. John still had a crush on me, I could feel that as well. All it would take was me lifting my head, standing on tiptoe and kissing him. I could almost see the future with him. Moving to a house with a good school district, three adorable kids and a dog added to my three cats. That future was hazy, not set in place but something I could make happen.

  John was a wonderful guy but there was no attraction like with Lance and no sizzle of heat like with Victor, only warmth came from John. Was that enough?

  At this moment, no. I pushed out of his embrace and gave him a smile. “Thanks, John.”

  “Any time, T, you know I’m here for you.” He wanted to say more- you didn’t have to be a psychic to see it in his eyes.

  “I’m here for you too, John, you’re a great friend. Will you reconsider Lotte?”

  He looked away but not before I saw the dash of hurt in his honest blue eyes. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll give it some thought.”

  “You do that,” I said opening my door and climbing up inside.

  John walked over to his truck which was parked a few spaces away and I could see him watching me while I backed up. He gave a small wave and his usual big goofy John grin. He really was a great friend, and I needed that more than I did another lover.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “I've missed you.”

  Softly spoken from the corner, I didn't even glance Victor's way.

  “I've missed you too.”

  And I had. All our years together, the many annoyances, the constant ups and downs of his explosive temper, his endless supply of advice, his quirky sense of humor, damn I missed the man!

  “I'm sorry, can you forgive me?”

  Rare words from Victor.

  Turning to face him, I saw a man full of remorse. His beautiful full lips were compressed into a thin line, his eyes downcast and sad. Despite everything he had put me through recently and my dalliance with Lance I felt myself responding to him.

  I got up from my window seat, tossing the mystery novel I had been reading down as I walked toward him.

  He moved out of the shadows, meeting me half-way, our arms trying to embrace each other. He shifted right through me. One of the nastiest sensations, for a mere moment I felt like my essence was being pulled with him, causing my vision to go black and my stomach to somersault. I stumbled.

  Victor reached out his arms as if to steady me, but the thought of that dreadful feeling returning caused me to cry out and lurch away from him. Even in my diminished state I could see how badly my actions had hurt him. And there was nothing I could do.

  “Victor...”

  He cut me off with a slice of his hand through the air. “Teresa, I'm so sorry. I forgot.”

  So had I.

  We had touched once. When I was seventeen. After a tense session on the Ouija board, he had appeared. Talking with him face to face, my teenage hormones had run rampant. Oozing budding sexual awareness, I had looked up to see a dangerous flash in his dark, hooded eyes. One that I hadn't realized at the time was desire.

  Too inexperienced to understand what he wanted, yet eager to satisfy that growing sense of intimacy, I had reached for him. He complied by leaning over me where I sat on the bed. The moment his hands had touched me I was seized by an icy cold the likes of which I had never experienced. Putrid smells assaulted my nasal passages and I had hurled all over myself and the lovely pink comforter on my bed.

  We had never attempted to touch again until now. How or why I blocked that memory out, I don't know.

  Taking a steadying breath of clean air revived me.

  “I'm okay.”

  “I'm not.” He looked at me sadly before disappearing.

  I hated when he did that. It served as yet another reminder of what he was. Sometimes it was so easy to forget. To pretend he was just a regular man I was attracted to.

  We would spend the day puttering around the house, doing nothing other than watching TV, chatting about this and that and just being together. I had missed that, the comfortable companionship we shared for so long.

  When had that changed? Well before Lance.

  Sinking back down into the pillowed softness of the window seat, I hugged my knees while gazing unseeing around the room.

  Things had been strained for months, even before my brief time with Lance, something had altered our relationship. Yet I couldn't pinpoint one moment that reshaped things. I wanted things back to the way they had been. Maybe.

  Hell, I didn't know what I wanted anymore.

  Thank heavens for chocolate. I was going to eat my feelings, read my book and figure out my life another time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “You know you waited this long, what’s a few more years? Angel probably only has ten to fifteen more max in her,” I spoke what seemed very logical to me.

  He gave me a dirty look. “You want my sweet Angel dead?”

  “Stop that! You wanted a solution and for her to be with you, well when she dies you can spend eternity together.”

  “No, I can’t. She’ll still want to be with Angelo.”

  Kid did have a point there. Angelo’s confession hadn’t turned her away or raised much ruckus.

  “Joey, what do you want? You can’t get your life back. Angel isn’t leaving Angelo and you don’t want to share your afterlife with the both of them. So, what is it that’s going to make you happy?” I was at the end of my patience with him. Most of my sympathy had departed when I found out his death was accidental, and if he hadn’t been being a punk slitting Angelo’s tires he probably would have lived to become an annoying old man. With or without Angel by his grumpy side.

  “I want answers to a few questions.”

  “That’s it?” I squawked.

  “I wanted my girl back, but that ain’t happening. So, now I need answers for closure, right? I need my peace so I can move on.”

  “Actually, I don’t know much about moving on versus spending your afterlife here- nobody ever shared those details with me.”

  “Let me have my moment, okay? Can’t you do that?” he groused, looking pretty po’ed with me.

  He was right, oops! Far be
it from me to rain on his rosy afterlife dreams. “Sorry.”

  “So, can you get Angel to talk with me?”

  “We are going to set some ground rules first. The last time I wanted you to talk you couldn’t be bothered. How do I know you’re not going to pull the same stupid stunt again?”

  “I ain’t going to hang you out to dry,” he muttered, looking at me as if I were a dolt.

  “Huh?” I kinda felt like one because I wasn’t following what he had just said.

  “I said I want to talk, so I’m gonna talk is what it means. You get it arranged and then we’ll be square.”

  That definitely got my attention. “No more bathroom visits?”

  “I’ll just be a pleasant memory.”

  I kept my mouth shut over that one.

  *****

  Surprisingly, getting Angel to agree to another talk with Joey was fairly simple. Firstly, she didn’t hang up on me when I called and identified myself, that was a major win. Then she called Joey a “dear boy” several times- apparently unconvinced he ever had a devious thought or conveniently forgetting about Joey’s actions on that fateful afternoon. She wanted him to be okay and to move into the light.

  What is our fascination with the light and did people really see it? The world wasn’t teeming with ghosts so obviously the percentage that remained was fairly low. Did some pop back and forth, checking on loved ones like Mrs. Larsen? Crazy enough I had just seen an online feel good story about her Hannah-girl the other day. She had rung the bell signifying an end to her cancer treatments and had a hero’s sendoff. In the picture that accompanied the article, I had spied Mrs. Larsen’s proud smiley face and loving hand on her granddaughter’s. I briefly wondered how many others had seen her and if they knew she was a spirit.

  Or even my own Aunt Prudy, where did she go when she wasn’t popping in for a late-night chat? I should try to ask that next time. I had bugged Victor before but he was evasive on that subject and many others, as was his habit.

  I shook off those wayward thoughts and tuned back in to Angel still going on about poor Joey needing peace and she would do anything she could. Outside of leaving Angelo, I snidely almost mentioned but miracle of miracles I kept my mouth shut on that one.