Read Online (Psychic Visions 01) Tuesday's Child by Dale Mayer - Free Book Online
Authors: Dale Mayer
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started to explain.
"Oh. That Samantha." The anger shifted down to a growl.
She could almost see him shift into gear.
"What can I do for you?"
"Umm." Now that she had him on the phone, she didn't quite know what to say. "I know that some of the stuff that I told you might have been a little difficult to believe." She paused, not quite knowing where to go from here.
"Maybe," he answered, huskiness clouding his voice as if he was still groggy from sleep. It did funny things to her stomach.
She focused on his answer, his wariness. Determinedly, she forged ahead. "I saw an accident happen this morning. I thought if you could verify these details, you might have more faith in the other information I gave you."
Dead silence.
Oh God, why had she called him? She chewed on her bottom lip. What madness possessed her to call? She glanced out the window. It was just starting to get light outside.
"What kind of car accident?" His voice sounded brisker, more alert.
"A woman drove over the cliff and crashed onto the rocks below." She hesitated for a moment then rushed into speech. "The thing is...this time I recognized the spot. She drove off at Emerson Point."
"Emerson Point?" Now she had his attention. He was all business.
Feeling reassured, she continued. "Yes. She went through the guardrail. The car landed on its wheels before exploding."
"Hmmm. Time frame?" He cleared his throat.
That husky sound made her stomach do a slow tumble. Sam struggled to consider his question. But images of him leaning against the head of his bed, running a hand through his ruffled hair, the blankets resting low on his hips made her swallow and close her eyes. What had he asked? Oh yeah, it had been something about time frame. Had the accident been in real time? She cleared her throat. "I think around six this morning."
"You think?"
She hated the apologetic tone in her voice. "I woke as it happened. All I can say is that I think it played out in real time."
More digestive silence.
"Right. Make of car, color, and license plate? Anything specific that you can tell me."
"I experienced her death the same as always. So, I couldn't see the license plate because I was, in effect, driving the car. She drove a dark colored Mercedes. I don't know the model."
"How did you know the type of car then?"
"Because I could see the logo inside the car."
Sam could hear the scratching of pen on paper. She waited.
"Right. Anything else?"
"Her name was Louise." Sam's voice hitched and stopped, surprised. Where had that come from? The name danced though her head. It felt right.
She took a deep breath, knowing this could be the point where he suspended belief. "And I think she was murdered."
***
6:10 am
Brandt rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Jesus, what a way to wake up. Every time he spoke with this woman, he couldn't get a grip on her. Was she for real?
He threw back his duvet and headed for a shower. At least this time, she'd given him something concrete. If it checked out.
Two hours later, at the station, he stood frowning down at an accident report in his hands. Incomplete as yet, just chicken scratch as the cop on the scene hadn't had a chance to finish the paperwork.
"Jackson, any sign of foul play?" Brandt glanced up from the paper, his piercing gaze nailing the young traffic cop.
"No, sir," Jackson said shifting his large weight from one foot to the other. "Not that I could see."
The younger man rubbed his face, fatigue pulling on his skin, giving him a much older appearance. The job did that to everyone after a while. "There isn't much left. The fire burned everything to ash."
"There weren't any secondary vehicle marks on the highway indicating she might have been forced off the road?"
"No, nothing like that. Her car headed straight for the guard rail, went through and over."
Brandt shot him a hard
"Oh. That Samantha." The anger shifted down to a growl.
She could almost see him shift into gear.
"What can I do for you?"
"Umm." Now that she had him on the phone, she didn't quite know what to say. "I know that some of the stuff that I told you might have been a little difficult to believe." She paused, not quite knowing where to go from here.
"Maybe," he answered, huskiness clouding his voice as if he was still groggy from sleep. It did funny things to her stomach.
She focused on his answer, his wariness. Determinedly, she forged ahead. "I saw an accident happen this morning. I thought if you could verify these details, you might have more faith in the other information I gave you."
Dead silence.
Oh God, why had she called him? She chewed on her bottom lip. What madness possessed her to call? She glanced out the window. It was just starting to get light outside.
"What kind of car accident?" His voice sounded brisker, more alert.
"A woman drove over the cliff and crashed onto the rocks below." She hesitated for a moment then rushed into speech. "The thing is...this time I recognized the spot. She drove off at Emerson Point."
"Emerson Point?" Now she had his attention. He was all business.
Feeling reassured, she continued. "Yes. She went through the guardrail. The car landed on its wheels before exploding."
"Hmmm. Time frame?" He cleared his throat.
That husky sound made her stomach do a slow tumble. Sam struggled to consider his question. But images of him leaning against the head of his bed, running a hand through his ruffled hair, the blankets resting low on his hips made her swallow and close her eyes. What had he asked? Oh yeah, it had been something about time frame. Had the accident been in real time? She cleared her throat. "I think around six this morning."
"You think?"
She hated the apologetic tone in her voice. "I woke as it happened. All I can say is that I think it played out in real time."
More digestive silence.
"Right. Make of car, color, and license plate? Anything specific that you can tell me."
"I experienced her death the same as always. So, I couldn't see the license plate because I was, in effect, driving the car. She drove a dark colored Mercedes. I don't know the model."
"How did you know the type of car then?"
"Because I could see the logo inside the car."
Sam could hear the scratching of pen on paper. She waited.
"Right. Anything else?"
"Her name was Louise." Sam's voice hitched and stopped, surprised. Where had that come from? The name danced though her head. It felt right.
She took a deep breath, knowing this could be the point where he suspended belief. "And I think she was murdered."
***
6:10 am
Brandt rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Jesus, what a way to wake up. Every time he spoke with this woman, he couldn't get a grip on her. Was she for real?
He threw back his duvet and headed for a shower. At least this time, she'd given him something concrete. If it checked out.
Two hours later, at the station, he stood frowning down at an accident report in his hands. Incomplete as yet, just chicken scratch as the cop on the scene hadn't had a chance to finish the paperwork.
"Jackson, any sign of foul play?" Brandt glanced up from the paper, his piercing gaze nailing the young traffic cop.
"No, sir," Jackson said shifting his large weight from one foot to the other. "Not that I could see."
The younger man rubbed his face, fatigue pulling on his skin, giving him a much older appearance. The job did that to everyone after a while. "There isn't much left. The fire burned everything to ash."
"There weren't any secondary vehicle marks on the highway indicating she might have been forced off the road?"
"No, nothing like that. Her car headed straight for the guard rail, went through and over."
Brandt shot him a hard
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