Chapter 1
They say daughters soften their fathers’ hearts, but this little girl had buried a pair of scissors in her daddy’s chest. What in Heaven’s name could turn a nine-year-old pageant queen into a serial killer?
The child moved her tongue in and out of her mouth as she made red slashes across the paper. I leaned closer to the glass to get a better look at the drawing. As if she sensed me watching, she stood and pressed the drawing to the observation window.
“Well that’s…gruesome.” I couldn’t tear my eyes from the image of a man with large gashes across his torso. The subject matter came as little surprise, but the quality of the drawing shocked me.
“The group home manager tells me she spends most of her free time drawing.” Hailey, my best friend and the girl’s lead therapist, tapped her pen on the desk.
“She’s obviously advanced. Most kids don’t have that level of realism in their drawings until their early teens.” I turned to Hailey. “She’s small for her age. Any underlying medical issues?”
“None noted, but the information came from a next-door-neighbor. We’re still waiting on her school records.”
I turned my back to the glass. “She’s nonverbal?”
“As far as we know, she hasn’t said a word since confessing to the police.” Hailey ran a hand over her swollen belly and turned to the intern. “Go encourage her to draw another picture.”
The young man, who didn’t look old enough to have graduated high school, let alone a four-year university, hurried from the room. I couldn’t help but wonder if his eagerness had more to do with working with the patient or escaping before Hailey went into labor. With four weeks until her due date, she already looked like she’d pop if she bumped into a sharp object.
“Will you do it?” She turned to me with a hand on her back.
I glanced at the little girl. “Do you think she did it?”
“Does it matter?” Hailey dipped her chin and pushed out her lower lip. “She needs someone to stand up for her either way.”
I’d met Hailey during out freshman year of college and had bonded over ice cream and late-night study sessions. I thought I’d developed an immunity to her pouty-puppy-face. I was wrong. “Hailey, you know I don’t treat kids.”
“She’s the only one on my caseload I haven’t been able to transfer. I wouldn’t ask, but I’m desperate.” Her free hand moved to her lower back. “Maybe it’s my hormones, but I care more than I should about this one.”
Her candor surprised me. Hailey’s caseload consisted of mostly children. What about this one that had drawn her in? “I have my hands full between the police department and the guys. There’s six other therapists here. Why can’t one of them see her?”
The mention of Orange County PD reminded me of the stack of paperwork waiting at the station. Officially, I worked part-time as a victim’s advocate. Unofficially, I provided special services—aka psychic readings—on an as needed basis. Lately, they’d needed me enough to provide a benefits package.
“They’ve all seen her, but…” Hailey hung her head. “She freaks them out.”
My mouth fell open. “That’s unprofessional to say the least.”
“Normally, I’d agree.” She frowned and turned back to the glass.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I grabbed the girl’s chart and flipped through the pages. Jolene Parks, only child. No known psychological trauma, until her stepfather had murdered her mother in the next room, and she’d allegedly taken justice into her own hands.
“As you said, she’s quite the artist.”
I nodded, waiting for her to get on with the explanation.
“Three of my colleagues claim she drew pictures of their dead family members. Jolene wrote a letter from one of the therapist’s recently deceased husband. She’s caused quite a stir in the office.”
I narrowed my eyes. Hailey, a self-proclaimed agnostic, worshipped at the altar of scientific research. She’d dismissed my gifts as intuition. Although, since a couple of the murder investigations I’d worked had hit national news, she’d shown more interest. “She’s a medium?”
Hailey shrugged. “At the very least, she’s very intuitive.”
Well crap. How am I supposed to walk away from the case now?
“Tessa, I know how you feel about kids, but spend some time with her. If you don’t establish a therapeutic bond, I’ll transfer the case to county.”
I’d completed my graduate internship and spent the first two years of my career at the county mental health facility. The people there did the best they could with too many patients and too little funding. “Where’s her biological father?”
Hailey smiled like she’d already won. “Not involved. Somewhere in Afghanistan. The Army tracked him down, but he demanded a DNA test. The neighbor told the cops he left before she was born.”
“Sounds like a hell of a father.” A familiar pain tightened my chest. I had firsthand experience growing up without a dad.
“We don’t know the circumstances. This could be the first he’s heard of her.”
“Or he could be just another sperm donor that walked out on his kid.”
She cocked her head and gave me her practiced therapist smile, closed mouthed, patient, waiting for me to realize I’d revealed something important.
I waggled my finger. “Oh no you don’t. I’m not the client here. I know I have abandonment issues. You’re right, he could be up for the father of the year award—a regular stand up kind of guy.”
Hailey nudged me. “Speaking of guys, how’re yours?”
I glanced at the two-stoned engagement ring on my finger and didn’t bother to hide my goofy smile. “They’re good. Aaron’s working a lot these days. There’s a rumor he’s being considered for a promotion. Bryson’s building an addition onto Charlie’s house with the insurance money from the fire.”
“A second bath, I hope.”
“Along with a huge master bedroom.”
Bryson and I had moved into my grandfather’s house after I’d inadvertently burned my apartment building to the ground. I’d always think of it as Charlie’s house, but we’d decided to make it our own.
She smirked. “Yeah, I don’t see how a king-sized bed would fit in Charlie and Dottie’s old room.”
My cheeks heated. I still hadn’t gotten used to discussing my unusual domestic situation with anyone but my guys. “It’s just me and Bryson in the house.”
“For now.” She tilted her head. “Are you two still running the medicine shop out of your living room?”
“Bryson and I decided to close up for a while when Aaron and I were working on the serial killer case at Christmas. Every once in a while, someone shows up begging for help. Bryson says he’d be content sprucing up the house and sculpting, but I’m not sure I believe him. I think he misses the shop.”
Hailey knew Bryson and I served as medicine people for local members of the Cherokee tribe. However, she didn’t know that our practice included actual magic, shifting into our spirit animals, or that we were Nunnehi—the Cherokee equivalent to fairies. Some things were private, even between besties.
“So you do have extra time?” She gave me a playful nudge. “Come on, Tessa. Maybe it’ll do you some good?”
“How so?”
She rubbed a wide circle over her baby-bump. “You’re engaged to two studly guys. Surely, one or both of them will want kids one day.”
“You know that’s a deal breaker.” The very idea of having kids put the fear of God into me. Not that I minded other people’s children. I’d happily babysit. But I hadn’t exactly had a healthy maternal role model growing up.
Hailey frowned. “You’re not your mother.”
I winced and turned back to the blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl in the other room. I’d worked hard to squash any behaviors that remotely resembled Darlene, but I had no doubt some of her influence remained. I wouldn’t risk a child growing up the way I had, but I would my risk my no-minors policy to end the conversation. “I’ll sit with her for a bit and let you know if I think I can work with her.”
Hailey sprang to her feet and gave me a hug, which proved challenging with the baby in the middle. “Thanks, Tessa. You’re the best. She has fifteen minutes left in her session, but you can go long today.”
“Uh huh. I haven’t agreed to see her.”
My very pregnant friend bounced on the balls of her feet. “But you will. I have a good feeling about this.”
“Okay, okay. Stop that or you’ll jiggle the baby lose.”
I walked into the hall and took a minute to collect my thoughts. Unlike Hailey, I hadn’t bothered to obtain a certification in play therapy while in grad school. Heck, I’d barely paid attention during the child psychology lectures. Until five minutes ago, I’d been dead set against treating kids.
Jolene glanced over her shoulder when I walked into the room. Her eyes narrowed as if to sum me up. Evidently, I hadn’t impressed her. She pursed her lips and turned back to her latest drawing.
Great. I’m off to a wonderful start. “I’ll take it from here,” I said to the intern.
“Thanks.” He seemed relieved, too relieved. This guy was either strung tight or the girl freaked him out as much as Hailey’s pregnant belly.
I sat across the table from the child and waited for her to acknowledge me. After several minutes, I turned to the observation window. The tinted glass obscured my view of Hailey, but I gave her a dirty look anyway.
Jolene slid a blank piece of paper in my direction.
“Thank you.” I chose a green colored pencil. “My name’s Tessa.”
The girl nodded without looking up.
“Do you go by Jolene or do you have a nickname?”
She shrugged without meeting my eyes.
I drew the only thing I knew how—two palm trees beside a flat ocean, and debated how to go about counseling someone who refused to speak. I’d participated in many one-sided conversations, but this was something entirely different.
Curious to see if the girl would notice, I drew my magic to the surface. Heat rose from the center of my being as my spirit animal, the firebird, stretched her wings.
Jolene continued to draw, but the scratching of her pencil grew louder.
I glanced at the window and sighed. Hailey needed me to do this. Lord knows how many times she’d been there for me over the years, but I had a sinking feeling I would let her down. Out of my comfort zone didn’t come close to describing how I felt around this child.
Jolene pushed her drawing toward me and sat back with her little arms folded.
“You’re very talented—” My brain came to a screeching halt when I looked at the paper. The girl had drawn the likeness of my biological mother. I had been an infant when she’d died, but I knew every contour of her face. Her spirit had come to me for as long as I could remember.
Jolene reached across the table and patted my hand. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“Is this someone you know?”
She shook her head and wrote two words on the scrap paper. Your mommy.
My stomach fell into my shoes.
Chapter 2
My cell buzzed for the fifth time in twenty minutes. I ignored it. Normally, I had a compulsive need to answer a ringing phone, but I needed to clear my head before I dealt with my mother and her baby shower. No, not my biological mom, she didn’t use a phone to contact me. My other mother—Darlene.
A lot of people with messed up childhoods fantasized about being switched at birth, but in my case, it had happened. My grandfather, Charlie, had tried to give me a normal life when he’d played a magical game of shells with me and Darlene’s still-born infant.
I knew his heart had been in the right place. I’d lost my mom, and Darlene had lost her daughter. Unfortunately, the woman had proved uninterested and ill-equipped to raise a child.
The phone rang again.
I glanced at the screen and pressed the answer button. “Hi Gram Mae.”
“Your momma is trying to reach you.”
“I was on the highway. I’m almost home now. Everything okay?”
My great-grandmother lowered her voice. “She’s in rare form. Craving dinner from a sack when I’ve been cooking for three days straight.”
“Maybe it’ll pass?”
“Let’s hope so. We won’t survive months of this.” Gram Mae laughed. “Bye Tessa. See you soon.”
Twenty-five years after unknowingly adopting me, Darlene was pregnant with my little brother or sister. Unlike Hailey, who handled her impending motherhood with grace, Darlene behaved like carrying a baby was a crisis of monumental proportions.
I’m definitely not in the right head-space to deal with her right now.
I needed to talk to someone about what had happened with Jolene Parks—someone who understood magic. Lucky for me, I had just the person and knew right where he’d be.
I parked in the drive between Charlie’s house and my great-grandmother’s little pink cottage. My cousins had already set up a large party tent, tables, and chairs for the impending baby-shower from Hell. My contributions to the shindig included decorations and party games. Since Darlene’s boyfriend had insisted on a gender inclusive affair, I was a little nervous about playing Tinkle in the Pot with a bunch of men. Rather than risk screwing it up and hearing about it until Armageddon, I’d delegated the responsibility to my cousin Tank.
I followed the sound of hammering to the tent. There, in the afternoon sun, stood a sight that stilled my breath and quickened my pulse. Bryson, my shirtless fiancé, stretched to his full six-feet-too-many-inches-to-care height and hung Christmas lights.
Bryson glanced from me to the sky and back. “Hey, babe, you’re running late.”
“I have an hour before the festivities. That’s plenty of time.” I wandered through the yard, admiring his handiwork. “This’ll look fabulous all lit up. Who says you can’t use holiday lights year-round?”
He wiped his brow with a bandana and stuffed it into his back pocket. “Darlene’s been trying to reach you.”
“I know. I’ll talk to her in a bit.” I drew a circle in the dirt with my toe. “There’s something I want to discuss with you first.”
“Does this something have to do with your meeting with Hailey today?”
“I’m thinking about taking on one of her patients while she’s on maternity leave.”
He reached for another nail. “Yeah?”
“I met her today. She’s nine.” I hedged, trying to find the words to tell him about the session with Jolene.
“Are you sure you have time? You’ve been swamped at the station, and we need to make a decision about the medicine shop. I had three people come to me for healing today.” Bryson pounded the nail into a two by four.
“Maybe we should start locking the gate.” I missed using my magic to help people, but I certainly didn’t miss the tribal politics that came along with it. As the two remaining Nunnehi on Earth, the position should have been mine or Bryson’s without a fight. Unfortunately, nothing was simple when dealing with the Tribal Elders.
“Or maybe we should agree to put in office hours at the Tribal House and train some others. Nothing says we have to see everyone ourselves.”
“Counseling the kid will be twelve weeks tops. I can’t see Hailey becoming a stay at home mother. She loves her work too much. We can stall a decision that long.” I snatched the box of nails from the table and walked to his side.
Bryson draped the strand of lights over the nail and moved to the next post. “I thought you didn’t work with kids?”
“I don’t normally. This one’s different.”
He kissed the corner of my mouth and took a nail. “It’d be a welcome change of pace from the ghosts and homicidal maniacs.”
Oh boy. I doubted I’d get a better opening. “Actually…”
Bryson stopped mid-swing and turned to me.
“She confessed to killing her stepfather.”
He set the hammer on the table and gave me his full attention. “Tessa…”
Before he could gather his thoughts and make a case against working with Jolene, I pulled the sketch of Atsila from my bag. “I think she’s a psychic or a medium of some sort. She hasn’t spoken since losing her parents, but she draws.”
“A nine-year-old drew that?” Bryson cocked his head. “It looks a little like you.”
While I appreciated the compliment, I didn’t look anything like the lithe beauty in the drawing. “The girl told me it’s my mother. It’s the spitting image of Atsila.”
He ran his hand over the back of his neck, but his eyes remained fixed on the sketch. “Not many nine-year-olds kill their parents. Could she be trying to manipulate you?”
“Maybe, but like I said, this is a picture of my mother.”
“Do you think you can help her?”
“I don’t know, but I think I should try. Hailey hasn’t been able to transfer her to anyone else. The other therapists are afraid of her.”
“I’ll stand behind whatever you decide, but it seems to me that you’ve already made up your mind.” He slung an arm around my shoulders. “You surprise me.”
“Surprise you?” I wrinkled my nose and stepped away. “You’re all sweaty.”
“It’s not like you to look before you leap.” His eyes darkened as he moved closer.
I put my hands up and skittered behind a table. “Stop right there, Mister. We’re already running late. I have to finish the shower decorations.”
The corner of his lips curled. “I have a different kind of shower in mind.”
My stomach did a cartwheel. “We both won’t fit in our tiny bathroom, remember?”
He lunged and drew me into a tight embrace. “We’ve managed before.”
I met his deep brown eyes and melted. “Let’s go before someone sees us.”
“Tessa Marie! There you are! I’ve been calling you for hours.” Darlene made a show of waddling down the front steps. She set her hand on her cantaloupe-sized belly. “I’m craving one of those little square hamburgers from Krystal’s.”
I’d passed the restaurant on my way home, but refused to feel guilty about depriving my pregnant mother of fast food. “I must have forgotten to turn my phone off silent after my meeting. I’m sure Gram Mae has enough to feed a small army in there.”
Darlene sniffed her disapproval and wandered into the tent. “Honestly, Tessa. How is everything gonna be done in time? We can’t have people showing up with naked tables. And I thought you said we’d have balloons?”
I plastered a smile on my face and counted to ten. “It’ll be ready in time, and Aaron’s bringing the balloons.”
She patted her teased and shellacked hair. “What were you thinking, having this outside? I’m turning into a puddle already.”
“It’ll cool off when the sun sets.” Bryson set his hand on the small of my back. “You look lovely. Pregnancy agrees with you.”
I dipped my chin to hide my grin.
“Aren’t you sweet?” Darlene winked. Swinging her hips far enough to dislocate her fanny, she walked inside.
“Promise me you’ll never let me become my mother.”
“Daughters are their mother’s worst critics. I think we do the best we can for our kids with what we’re given.”
“Well, some of us weren’t given much.” I smirked.
He drew me against his chest and swatted my backside.
“Hey! What was that for?”
“I think you know.” He brushed his lips across my ear. “Where were we?”
“I don’t recall. Why don’t you kiss me until I remember?”
And that’s exactly what he did.
