A Deep and Dark December (6 page)

A knock on his door brought his head up. Cerie stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, arms crossed. She wore some kind of flowing dress with long sleeves that hung like wings from her arms. He should’ve heard her coming with all the bells and charms hanging from her neck and wrists. She’d tied her graying dark hair into a long braid that hung over one shoulder. Graham saw Erin in the softened lines and creases of Cerie’s face. If she were anything like her aunt, Erin would age well, growing gracefully into her later years.

“Your thoughts are so vivid I feel the need to check myself for an erection.”

“Excuse me?”

She strolled in and looked around. No doubt wondering where Erin was. Graham had always thought of her as eccentric, but harmless. Or was that just semantics for insane?

“I prefer eccentric over insane.”

“I never said—”

“And no, Erin can’t read thoughts like I do. Her talents lie elsewhere.” Cerie smoothed her skirt and sat without being invited. “It’s a good thing for you since you broadcast yours like an air raid siren. Thank you for the compliment by the way. We’ve been blessed with Great Grandma December’s genes.”

He sat back in his chair. If not crazy then…what? He’d heard the rumors about the Decembers. Cerie seemed to be the only one who traded on them, offering her services as a medium in exchange for money. Donald, Erin’s father, kept mostly to himself, but there was talk about him too that naturally spilled over onto Erin. Were they psychics or just…odd?

“Why bother having conversations with people when you can pluck the thoughts straight from their heads?” he asked.

“Because that would be terribly one sided and I enjoy talking so very much.”

His lips twitched. He’d always liked Cerie, despite the whispers of her being a witch. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Actually there is. Something’s happened.”

He made a motion for her to continue. He couldn’t wait to see what she’d come up with. Ghosts maybe, or ghouls.

“Besides the murder/suicide. The poor dears.” She closed her eyes as though she were praying.

“Cerie? Your point?”

She opened her eyes and sat up straighter. “I think it’s the storm. It seems to be affecting our abilities.”

“
Our
abilities?”

“I suspect it might have something to do with the storm on top of the full moon and mercury being in retrograde.”

“You don’t seem to be having any…issues.”

“Not at the moment, no. But earlier I was doing a reading for Bessie Farnsworth’s daughter Beatrice. You’d remember her. She’s about your age. Blond. She’s expecting… Beatrice, not Bessie you understand—”

“Of course.”

“Anywho, there I was, the Tarot deck all laid out, then… blink!”

“Blink.”

“Blink! Nothin’. Nada. Zilch. My mind went as blank as Bessie’s head.”

“Is this leading somewhere because I have a lot of work to do here, Cerie?”

“I’ll let you get back to your X-rated imaginings of my niece in a moment.”

He let the grin go, liking how it stretched little-used muscles. “That would be nice.”

“At the first clap of thunder… blink, blank, bloop.” She passed a dramatic hand across her face. “Nothing.” She lowered her hand and leaned forward. “Reading Bessie’s always been like reading a news flicker, which is why she’s one of my best customers, you understand. So you can imagine my concern when she went blank as the side of a barn.”

“I’m still not seeing as how this is police business.”

“It’s not. It’s Erin business. And if you’re meaning to make Erin your business you better work on that properly or stop putting her in the starring role of your own private porno. Got me?”

He had no business making Erin his business. Fantasizing about her was one thing, acting on it was another. “Get around to it or get out of my office so I can do my work.”

“Donald said the same thing’s been happening to him off and on all day.”

“Donald.”

“You remember, Erin’s father. Boy, it’s a good thing I’m the only mind reader in the family or you’d be staring down the double barrel of Grandpa December’s shotgun. I’m telling you. That shotgun’s not the only thing Donald inherited from Grandpa D.” She put her hand to the side of her mouth. “Both he and Erin got Grandpa’s terrible temper.”

“How does this relate to Erin?”

“If my ability went on the fritz and Donald’s too, then Erin’s must have as well.”

He jerked upright. “Erin has an ability?” Why didn’t he know this about her?

“She doesn’t like anyone to know so this will have to fall under client confidentiality.”

“I’m a cop, not a lawyer.”

She waved that away. “Whatever. The point is, I’m worried for Erin and I need you to help me keep an eye on her. Since you seem to like eyeing her, I figured you’re the perfect one for the job. Plus, I trust you.”

“Thank you. I think. Just what kind of secret ability does Erin have?”

A commotion out in the front office caught their attention.

“White bread and fruit punch,” Cerie mumbled.

“What?”

“Here he comes. The most staid man in the county, maybe the state. He won’t be much competition for you.” She winked. “But Donald likes him so that could be a potential problem.”

“I would ask what you’re talking about, but I have a feeling I’m better off not knowing.”

“Erin has visions,” Cerie hurriedly whispered. “Of the past and future.” She pressed a finger to her lips. “Remember. Mum’s the word.”

He opened his mouth to ask her more, but Keith Collins appeared in the doorway.

“Oh. Hello. I didn’t know you’d be here,” he said to Graham.

“It’s my office.”

“I’m looking for Erin—”

The bathroom door opened and Erin walked out, towel drying her hair. “Keith.” She stumbled to a stop. “What are you doing here?”

Cerie repositioned her chair to take in the scene. “This ought to be good.”

Graham stood up and came around his desk. He had an overwhelming urge to drag Erin out of the room and ask her what the hell her aunt had been talking about. Erin had the ability to see the past and future? How?

“So it’s true,” Keith said, crumpling a little in his starched white shirt.

“What’s true?” Erin asked.

“You’ve been arrested,” Keith answered.

Graham folded his arms. This whole business was getting ridiculous. “Who says she’s been arrested?”

“It’s all over town,” Keith said. “Carol in produce told me that Janet from the pharmacy’s son told
her
that he saw you being taken to jail in the back of the sheriff’s car. So I came right down to bail you out.” He fidgeted a little in his Lucky’s Bag N Save apron, his employee of the month pins winking under the florescent lighting.

This was why he couldn’t wait to get out of San Ray. He studied Erin. And wondered why if she had this supposed ability, she’d kept it a secret all these years. “Goddamned small town.” And then he realized he’d answered his own question right there.

~*~

Erin inwardly sighed. Keith really was a nice guy. She wished all over again that she could like him more. Guys who would overlook her aunt’s quirkiness
and
offer to bail her out of jail weren’t thick on the ground.

“Humph. I knew it!” Aunt Cerie said, glancing between Keith and Erin.

Damn it. She’d lowered her defenses and her aunt had read her thoughts about Keith. She shored them back up and turned to Keith. “I’m not under arrest. I’m a witness.”

Cerie drew up in her chair and folded her arms, glaring at Erin. “I hate that you can block me out.”

“A witness?” Keith crossed the room in two long-legged strides. He put his hands on either side of her face. The gesture was meant to be endearing, but was ruined by the coldness of his hands and how they always smelled like the bottom of a freezer. “My poor angel face.”

Behind Keith, Aunt Cerie put her hands to her throat and stuck her tongue out like she was choking.

Keith’s brows drew together and his lips pressed flat. He was worried about her. In his eyes Erin saw how much he cared and she wished all over again that she could return his feelings. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him. He was a handsome hometown boy, clean and well dressed, his hair always combed. He had fresh breath and a good job with benefits. To top it off, last year he’d bought a house that he was fixing up, perfect for a family. Keith belonged to the community in a way Erin never had. On paper he was everything she should have wanted.

But with Keith, she always felt one step behind with no hope of ever catching up. She should’ve broken things off long before now. Whenever she summoned the courage to try, he’d say or do something sweet and she’d think that maybe if she gave it more time, she’d develop feelings for him. He was nearly perfect in every way. She was beginning to think there must be something wrong with
her
.

“I’m all right,” she told Keith, accepting his kiss.

Aunt Cerie jumped up, putting her hands to her head. “Ouch! Rats and skeletons, it’s happening again.”

Keith broke away from Erin to stare at her aunt like he thought she could actually produce rats and skeletons.

“What’s happening?” Graham asked.

“Blink, blank, bloop.”

“Is she… well?” Keith whispered in Erin’s ear.

Erin pretended she didn’t hear him. She’d gotten good at pretending with Keith. “What’s wrong, Auntie?”

“Something else is going on here,” Aunt Cerie said to Graham. “It’s not the storm.” She rubbed her temples.

Erin didn’t like how pale her aunt was or how shaky her hands were. Cerie never got sick. “Are you okay?”

Graham moved closer to Cerie. “What makes you say that?”

Aunt Cerie started for the door. “I need to talk to Donald.”

“Auntie, wait.”

Erin moved to follow her aunt, but Graham caught her elbow. “You stay.”

She tried to wiggle free. “I have to find out what’s wrong with her.”

“It’s nothing you can help her with right now and I can’t let you leave before getting your formal statement.”

She rounded on him, but it was Keith who stepped between them, breaking Graham’s hold.

Keith put his arm around her shoulders. “Not a word until your lawyer gets here.”

“My lawyer?”

“That’s a smart move,” Graham said. “You should have representation.”

“But I’m just a witness.”

“We’ll be testing the samples I took from your hands and hair, and sending your clothes to the lab as evidence. They’ll be testing for DNA and gunshot residue among other things.”

“What
other things
?” Keith asked.

“Signs that Erin might have had a personal relationship with either Greg Lasiter or his wife.”

Graham said it so casually as though it was a normal thing for him to accuse someone of murdering her lover. Worse yet, accusing
Erin
of murdering her
married
lover. Is that what he thought of her? Is that what the whole town would think happened?

“
What?
” Keith went as white as his shirt.

“You think I was sleeping with Greg Lasiter?” She could hardly see Graham for the red haze that filled her vision.

“Or his wife,” Graham added. Was he trying to bait her or Keith?

“His wife,” Keith repeated, teetering a little on his feet.

“Actually, no. I don’t think you had a personal relationship with either one of them,” Graham said. “But I do have to run every possibility. And a witness having a personal relationship with one or more of the victims is a possibility. I’m sorry,” he added with a shrug. “It’s what I have to do.”

She barely managed to control the emotions tripping over themselves inside her. Anger warred with shock, which wrestled disappointment that fought with hurt, all of them brewing a storm to beat the one raging outside. “So basically what you’re saying is that you’re treating me like a suspect.” Her voice cracked, trying to get past the knot in her throat.

“A suspect? I don’t believe it. Erin wouldn’t hurt a spider.” Keith’s voice was strong with conviction, but his gaze shifted away.

“Everyone’s a suspect until they’re ruled out.” Graham poked a finger at Keith’s name badge. “Even the manager of Lucky’s Bag N Save. You knew the Lasiters. They probably shopped in your store. Can you account for your whereabouts today?”

“My whereabouts? Today?” Keith squeaked.

“Hang on. Let me grab my notebook.”

“Graham, stop it. You know he didn’t have anything to do with this.” She turned to Keith. “He’s pulling your leg.”

Keith adjusted his apron. “I knew that.”

“Hello?” Elmer Farnsworth III, Esquire, shuffled into the room. “I’m here about my client, Ellen December.”

“It’s
Erin
, Mr. Farnsworth,” Keith said, ushering the elderly lawyer into the room. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”