Psychic Visions 08-Now You See Her... (6 page)

Dean had seen Stefan do a hell of a lot of woo woo things that scared the crap out of him. Then he’d had enough weird things happen this last month that he had to wonder.

That didn’t mean he believed any of it. But there was no doubt Stefan had made magic happen with Dean’s boy. And for that, he’d do the trip to Simone’s without a problem. And anything else Stefan asked of him.

As he pulled out onto the main road, Dean looked down at his phone for instructions on where to go. It was a ten minute drive. Fine.

If he hadn’t stopped to visit with one of the nurses downstairs for a little while – the wife of a buddy of his – he’d have been there and back, and likely home by now.

Instead…

Oh well.

He turned on the radio and listened as country music blared through the inside of the cab. The drive was uneventful and the traffic was light. He drove into the complex and found number 221 without much trouble. It looked to be a trailer park. He parked out front and turned off the engine.

He studied the darkened trailer. There were no lights. No sign of anyone awake. In fact, there was no sign anyone lived there.

Ever. The trees out front needed pruning in a big way. The lawn hadn’t been mowed since forever. Frowning, he opened his door and hopped out. Holding his cell phone up as a light, he walked to the front door, looking for a number. Yes, there was the correct number on the right side of the front door.

So it was the right house.

Now where was Simone? No garage and no outbuildings in the front of the trailer. No vehicle either. He knocked on the door. No answer. No sounds shuffling toward him. Then again, it was in the wee hours of the morning. No one should be answering a random knock on the door.

He knocked again, louder. “Simone, are you in there? Tia asked me to check on you.”

He glanced back at his truck, realizing he’d left the door slightly open. As he had the keys in his pocket, he shrugged and pounded hard again.

This time the door opened slowly in front as if the last pound had unlocked the catch.

He unhooked his holster and kept his hand on the handle. Glancing behind him to make sure he was alone, he pushed the front door open.

“Hello? Is anyone home? This is the police.”

No answer. He stepped inside, the door wide open, and moved forward several feet.

And damn if he didn’t hear someone breathing. Shit. He spun around, his gun in his hand. “Who’s there,” he snapped.

But there was no one there. He spun around again, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rising. More woo woo stuff.

Get a hold of yourself, Dean. There’s nothing here. It was just a normal derelict house. Bad area of town. Nothing he hadn’t seen before.

He looked for a light switch but there didn’t appear to be one close. He stepped into the living room and held up his phone, the small light giving off barely enough light to see. He could make out wallpaper on the walls – from the eighties if the fuzzy texture was anything to go by. An old couch sat on one side and a busted coffee table on the other. He carried on into the kitchen. Old dishes sat discarded on the counter, a layer of dust on every surface. He bent slightly so he could see if there were spots where the dust had been disturbed.

And found none.

He opened the fridge. It had power and the light worked.

There was food inside. Not much and nothing that looked recent. A can of pop in the door. A bottle of hot sauce on the shelf.

Interesting.

He moved through the rest of the house and found two small bedrooms. One was empty with a mattress on the floor. The other held a large bed with bedding tossed on the top. There was an old dresser on the side, its drawers empty and open.

He walked to the closet. There were only a few items hanging. Someone either had lived here only temporarily, had left in a hurry or…this place had been deserted for a long time. How did that fit with Simone and Tia?

Pulling out his phone, he walked through to the backyard and glanced around. A couple of old buckets had been tossed against the back. Weeds were knee high and dry, dead looking. A shed sagged in the back corner of the lot. The door sat ajar, swinging drunkenly in the night. The weeds leading up to it were undisturbed.

“Stefan, it’s the wrong place. This is a deserted mobile home in a rundown trailer park. No one has been here in a long time. It’s in pretty rough shape.”

“Okay, take note of anything inconsistent and call it a night. I’ll see if I can run this Simone down to a current address. With her phone number I shouldn’t have any trouble.”

“Do it now and I’ll go take a look. I’m not sure what this address meant to Tia, but it’s not the home of her friend.”

“I’ll find out. Thanks for checking.”

“Not a problem. Get the other address for me, and I’ll swing by on my way home.”

“I’ll have it for you in a few minutes.” There was an odd silence as Stefan clicked several keys. “Simone Depres. 894 Southwind Drive.”

“Got it. That’s not too far from my place.” He turned and walked out of the dismal backyard, past the horrible trailer and back to his truck.

“I’ll go now and give you a call in a few minutes.”

*

Finally, his third
attempt to get to the right room. How could such a place be so difficult? The Bastard walked the hallway heading toward the room Tia slept.

Someone was playing games. And that pissed him right off. This was taking time he didn’t have. He’d had to befriend one of the guards, and now he knew she was up top. Dressing in medical whites helped loosen a lot of tongues. Good thing. He was out of patience. Tonight he’d take that bitch out of here – one way or the other.

His steps slowed as he climbed the stairs to the right floor. He opened the doors and strode through, and almost stopped. Several people, busy talking, raced a stretcher down the hallway toward the elevator.

That had better not be her. He waited until they disappeared around the corner before he carried on. The guard was standing at the elevator, helping the team get into the elevator fast.

Perfect. He walked over to her room and glanced inside the door. The bed was empty. With a quick look behind him, he slipped inside.

And roared silently in rage.

She was gone.

Again.

T
ia stood in
shock in front of her old home. Only it had never looked like this. She hadn’t been here in over a decade. Why the hell would he have come here? And why now? If he was looking for Simone, why here?

Her own system shuddered at seeing a place so far back in her memory. How did this connect? Did she even know this address herself? How had Stefan?

She walked to the front door and hesitated. Her footsteps dragged with the pain of the memories. Yet the image of the place, so rundown and ready to be flattened, didn’t match those in her mind of happier times. The images wouldn’t superimpose.

The hollowness of the house almost matched the hollowness of her experience while living there. Sad. And damn if tears didn’t burn at the corner of her eyes.

Resolutely she turned and walked back to the truck. With the door still open, she crawled inside and sat curled up in a corner, staring at a trip down memory lane she’d never wanted to take.

Her fault. She’d followed Dean out to the parking lot and crawled into the open truck box in order to escape the hospital. She’d thought they’d be going to Simone’s place.

Only to end up here.

After hearing Dean’s phone call, she waited for him to get in. Now they could go to Simone’s. If they’d asked her, she’d have given them the address. She paused. Well, maybe not.

The truck pulled out on the main road and took a left. Her mind was confused, still reeling. How could Stefan have known about the dilapidated house?

And what else did he know?

Dean reached over and turned on the radio. She watched him drive. Maybe it wasn’t fair to be able to hide in plain sight – so he couldn’t see her – yet be able to observe him, but she wasn’t feeling terribly charitable toward him as it was.

His phone rang. He picked it up, glanced at the number and winced.

“Shit.” He pulled up and parked at the shoulder of the highway. “Hi, Mom. How’s Jeremy doing?”

Tia leaned forward. His mother? Really? At this hour.

“I know his nightmares have been getting better, but they can still be rough.” He listened. “I’m running a bit late…are you sure? I can crash at home then run by in the morning if that’s better for you?”

He grinned at something she said. “Thanks, Mom, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After a moment he closed his phone and tossed it down on the bench beside him. “Shit,” he said under his breath. “I hope he stops having these damn things soon.”

Nightmares? Did Dean have a son? If so why was he working evenings? He needed to be home with his boy. Sounded like his mother was babysitting, and that couldn’t be an ideal situation. Where was the boy’s mother?

And why did she care?

She shouldn’t. She didn’t. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. She had no ties. Deliberately. She couldn’t afford to care about anyone. It would put them in danger. She couldn’t have anyone hurt because of her.

If something had happened to Simone she’d never forgive herself. Simone had to be safe. She couldn’t bear it if she was hurt from this.

She should have told her to offer the information if anyone came after her, it wasn’t worth getting hurt over.

But she hadn’t had that talk with Simone. At least not seriously. Simone had often said, “You know I’ve got your back, right?”

There’d never been any doubt about that.

With the sky starting to dump a light rain on the windshield, she hated the tension coiling up on the inside. That inability to swallow from the fear clogging her throat.

Simone had to be okay.

Dean pulled into Simone’s place and parked in the driveway. She searched the dark night sky for some sign there’d been trouble in the few hours she’d been gone. She couldn’t see anything. There were no lights on. Then again, why would there be? Simone should be asleep.

There were no strange vehicles parked outside the house either. In fact, Simone’s vehicle wasn’t even there. Maybe she had bolted. That was better than many options.

Dean hopped out and slammed the door closed. Crap. She couldn’t get out in time. She’d have to wait for him to enter the house before she exited the truck. She watched as he walked up to the front door and knocked. She almost smiled. Simone was no one’s fool. She’d never open the door to a stranger.

He rang the doorbell.

No answer.

Of course not. It was the middle of the night.

Then he reached for the doorknob and turned the handle. And pushed the unlocked door open.

Tia stiffened in disbelief. That couldn’t be. Simone was paranoid about locking her doors. She’d never have gone to bed without locking up and setting the security system. It had been a joke between them for years.

For Dean to have done that meant something bad had happened. She bit back a cry. Her hand on the door handle, she mentally urged him to go inside so she could get out.

“Hello, Simone Depres? Are you here? I’m with the police. We’ve gotten a call suggesting you might be in trouble.”

No answer.

So he was a cop. Damn. She shoved that deep inside to consider later. Simone was more important at this point.

No lights on anywhere. She stared at the other windows, the upper left one in particular. That was Simone’s bedroom. No light. No shadows. Tia returned her gaze to the front door to realize Dean had walked inside. She opened her door and slid out then closed the door softly before racing to the front door and her friend.

*