Chapter 1: The Request
You can see for miles as the stories unfold in the streets of the town. I live in the home that my grandparents built; it is some what unusual and very tall. My writing is done in the smallest room at the top of the roof. From the bully at the near by school picking on others to the old man who lives under a highway bridge because his family can't find the time to make sure he took his medicine. People walk by on the street not knowing about the old lady that was raped and murdered across the street from my house. But I see her in the window of her bedroom everyday. And Cindy's maid walks to the corner store passed my house. It seems like a normal thing, her maid did it everyday of her life but her maid died two years ago.
And yes, I see dead people. I have had some kind of gift for it since I was little. When my Grandfather died I told my Mom the night before he died that I was not going to see him again. The next morning Mother woke me with tears in her eyes and I said, "Papaw is dead isn't he." Mom's eyes got big and she said, "Yes, but how did you know." Even at 10 years old I didn't know how to tell her that I saw his spirit starting to leave his body. It is like a picture you see of someone's aura. The brighter it is the closer it gets to leaving the body.
I am what most people will call a home-body. A few friends, lots of internet buddies and my family was my heart on this earth. But, today, I was going to find myself in unfamiliar territory. Most of my past encounters with ghost were
in passing, Not something that I realized until later that I had seen or it was a ghost. Like seeing Cindy's maid walking one day and finding out months later that she had been died for two years. I had some weekly errands to run on this
day as we all do from time to time. Sitting in my favorite little restaurant; making notes on ideas for my next novel when a lady walked up and asked if she could join me. Well, I am one of those people who have never met a stranger, so I smiled sweetly and politely said, "Please be my guest." The tall, lean, strawberry blonde lady sat across the booth from me and shook my hand telling me that her name was Pheobe Finley. She was a medium in life and she needed my help to stop the murder of a young girl.
I smiled at her and tried to explain that I write fictional novels normally about crime and that I had no experience with real life murders.
The lady smiled sweetly at me and stated, "You see dead people. The killer as killed more than ones and we have to save the next victim's life. I have a psychic connection to the killer because I was his last murder victim and I have seen his next victim. I helped the police solve murders in L.A. when I was alive. My killer has moved to Arlington, Texas from L.A. and has already picked his victim."
My heart sank in my chest; I didn't see this one coming. Her aurora was not like most ghosts I have encountered. It was not as bright or the bluish color that I have seen when visiting the ER at the hospital when spirits leaving their physical bodies to move on. It was a white light very soft not like the living that have a yellow or reddish color to them I had never encounter a person or spirit with a white light so I didn't realize I was talking to a ghost.
I started to look around the restaurant to find that people where staring at me. I realized that it looked to them like I was talking to thin air. The waitress walked over to me and asks, "Are you alright Mrs. Connelly."
I laughed and stated, loudly, "Sorry, I sometimes talk out loud then I am writing scenes for my book, kind of like acting them out."
The Waitress smiled and said, "Well, that is good to know. I thought you had become ill."
I knew she meant crazy.
I asked her to box up my lunch and told her I had forgotten an appointment.
I and Pheobe left for my car. Talking in the car driving down the road can look like your just singing to a song playing on the radio.
Once in the car I explained to Pheobe, "Look Pheobe, I have no experience with helping the local police with murder cases as a medium and I don't know if they even use them to solve cases in Arlington. This is Texas we in the Bible belt and L.A. has more free thinkers than Texas does. If I go down to the police station they will think I just some crazy lady that ..."
Pheobe interrupted saying, "No they won't because they know you down there. You are the wife of an ex-U.S. Marshall. Your husband is friends with about half of them."
I pulled into a parking lot, looked over at her and said, "Just because Michael is friends with them, doesn't mean they will believe me."
"No, but you are going to call Sergeant Franklin at the L.A. police station and tell him that Pheobe Finley's spirit has connected you regarding the murders in his district and that I told you the murderer has moved to Arlington, Texas.
You need him to contact the local police regarding his case and so you and I can help them locate the killer before he kills again. His endorsement and the fact that Michael and you know most of the officers should stop anyone from think it
a joke or you're a crackpot." Phoebe said firmly.
I stared at the steering wheel of my car, Feeling sick at my stomach. I had hidden my curse or gift for seeing ghost and writing about ghost helped me to not lose my sanity. But now I was being asked to show my secret to the world. If
I did this it would be in the newspapers and because I am a novelist with books sold in all 50 states, all the world would know.
Pheobe looked over at Charlie glassy eyed look and with encouragement in her voice said, "Don't worry about hiding your gift I have a plan for that too. There is a medium called Rhonda Drake, she is a fake, so we can use her as the medium that is helping the police and your just gathering information for your next novel."
I smiled at her kindness and asked, "Well why get a fake medium? Isn't there any real ones in the Metroplex?"
Pheobe answered saying, "There are mediums but Charlie Connelly, my dear, you are a Mystic. Most mediums wouldn't here my voice it would sound like wind or static on the radio to them. Medium's may hear a few words or telepathically get
some of a message but I need someone like me. A real live Mystic."
I was in shock at her words. I didn't think I had any great power, just a little insight.
"I thought mystics were holy men of God." I informed her with a confused
look.
"No my dear, they are touched with the powers that be to help as messengers." Pheobe informed her with a smile.
I knew she was right and thought to myself, "When my Grandmother was alive I would here the voices of the angels talking to me through her words because I listened to her. Then one day when she was very ill, my prayer and not hers was
answered. That is when I started hearing messages. I had no idea I needed to send messages to other."
I stared at Pheobe who had heard me telepathically replied, "You have been sending messages through your books and poems."
Phoebe added, "You inspire people with your writing, Charlie."
I started the car back up; we drove to my house in silence. I was not really happy at the idea of probably putting myself out in the open with my powers as Phoebe called them. But there was a life at stake and I couldn't live with myself if she died and I could have saved her. As I drove by the lady's house that had died I remembered the dream I had about her death a few week before it happened I was just out of high school and had no idea that it was really going to happen. I pulled into the drive way and turned to Pheobe.
"Okay, I will call Sergeant Franklin in LA after you get the Fake Medium to help us." Charlie said firmly.
Pheobe laughed and said, "She is a fake she can't see or hear me."
Charlie did a fake laugh back and said, "Your a Mystic too and stronger than me so I believe you can."
Pheobe frowned and said, "Okay, but I will be useless for the rest of the day after using all my energy."
Charlie stuck out her hand and added, "Talk to the hand cause my give a damn is busted."
Pheobe faded away like a mist. She knew Charlie had defiantly had enough talk of this for one day.
And yes, I see dead people. I have had some kind of gift for it since I was little. When my Grandfather died I told my Mom the night before he died that I was not going to see him again. The next morning Mother woke me with tears in her eyes and I said, "Papaw is dead isn't he." Mom's eyes got big and she said, "Yes, but how did you know." Even at 10 years old I didn't know how to tell her that I saw his spirit starting to leave his body. It is like a picture you see of someone's aura. The brighter it is the closer it gets to leaving the body.
I am what most people will call a home-body. A few friends, lots of internet buddies and my family was my heart on this earth. But, today, I was going to find myself in unfamiliar territory. Most of my past encounters with ghost were
in passing, Not something that I realized until later that I had seen or it was a ghost. Like seeing Cindy's maid walking one day and finding out months later that she had been died for two years. I had some weekly errands to run on this
day as we all do from time to time. Sitting in my favorite little restaurant; making notes on ideas for my next novel when a lady walked up and asked if she could join me. Well, I am one of those people who have never met a stranger, so I smiled sweetly and politely said, "Please be my guest." The tall, lean, strawberry blonde lady sat across the booth from me and shook my hand telling me that her name was Pheobe Finley. She was a medium in life and she needed my help to stop the murder of a young girl.
I smiled at her and tried to explain that I write fictional novels normally about crime and that I had no experience with real life murders.
The lady smiled sweetly at me and stated, "You see dead people. The killer as killed more than ones and we have to save the next victim's life. I have a psychic connection to the killer because I was his last murder victim and I have seen his next victim. I helped the police solve murders in L.A. when I was alive. My killer has moved to Arlington, Texas from L.A. and has already picked his victim."
My heart sank in my chest; I didn't see this one coming. Her aurora was not like most ghosts I have encountered. It was not as bright or the bluish color that I have seen when visiting the ER at the hospital when spirits leaving their physical bodies to move on. It was a white light very soft not like the living that have a yellow or reddish color to them I had never encounter a person or spirit with a white light so I didn't realize I was talking to a ghost.
I started to look around the restaurant to find that people where staring at me. I realized that it looked to them like I was talking to thin air. The waitress walked over to me and asks, "Are you alright Mrs. Connelly."
I laughed and stated, loudly, "Sorry, I sometimes talk out loud then I am writing scenes for my book, kind of like acting them out."
The Waitress smiled and said, "Well, that is good to know. I thought you had become ill."
I knew she meant crazy.
I asked her to box up my lunch and told her I had forgotten an appointment.
I and Pheobe left for my car. Talking in the car driving down the road can look like your just singing to a song playing on the radio.
Once in the car I explained to Pheobe, "Look Pheobe, I have no experience with helping the local police with murder cases as a medium and I don't know if they even use them to solve cases in Arlington. This is Texas we in the Bible belt and L.A. has more free thinkers than Texas does. If I go down to the police station they will think I just some crazy lady that ..."
Pheobe interrupted saying, "No they won't because they know you down there. You are the wife of an ex-U.S. Marshall. Your husband is friends with about half of them."
I pulled into a parking lot, looked over at her and said, "Just because Michael is friends with them, doesn't mean they will believe me."
"No, but you are going to call Sergeant Franklin at the L.A. police station and tell him that Pheobe Finley's spirit has connected you regarding the murders in his district and that I told you the murderer has moved to Arlington, Texas.
You need him to contact the local police regarding his case and so you and I can help them locate the killer before he kills again. His endorsement and the fact that Michael and you know most of the officers should stop anyone from think it
a joke or you're a crackpot." Phoebe said firmly.
I stared at the steering wheel of my car, Feeling sick at my stomach. I had hidden my curse or gift for seeing ghost and writing about ghost helped me to not lose my sanity. But now I was being asked to show my secret to the world. If
I did this it would be in the newspapers and because I am a novelist with books sold in all 50 states, all the world would know.
Pheobe looked over at Charlie glassy eyed look and with encouragement in her voice said, "Don't worry about hiding your gift I have a plan for that too. There is a medium called Rhonda Drake, she is a fake, so we can use her as the medium that is helping the police and your just gathering information for your next novel."
I smiled at her kindness and asked, "Well why get a fake medium? Isn't there any real ones in the Metroplex?"
Pheobe answered saying, "There are mediums but Charlie Connelly, my dear, you are a Mystic. Most mediums wouldn't here my voice it would sound like wind or static on the radio to them. Medium's may hear a few words or telepathically get
some of a message but I need someone like me. A real live Mystic."
I was in shock at her words. I didn't think I had any great power, just a little insight.
"I thought mystics were holy men of God." I informed her with a confused
look.
"No my dear, they are touched with the powers that be to help as messengers." Pheobe informed her with a smile.
I knew she was right and thought to myself, "When my Grandmother was alive I would here the voices of the angels talking to me through her words because I listened to her. Then one day when she was very ill, my prayer and not hers was
answered. That is when I started hearing messages. I had no idea I needed to send messages to other."
I stared at Pheobe who had heard me telepathically replied, "You have been sending messages through your books and poems."
Phoebe added, "You inspire people with your writing, Charlie."
I started the car back up; we drove to my house in silence. I was not really happy at the idea of probably putting myself out in the open with my powers as Phoebe called them. But there was a life at stake and I couldn't live with myself if she died and I could have saved her. As I drove by the lady's house that had died I remembered the dream I had about her death a few week before it happened I was just out of high school and had no idea that it was really going to happen. I pulled into the drive way and turned to Pheobe.
"Okay, I will call Sergeant Franklin in LA after you get the Fake Medium to help us." Charlie said firmly.
Pheobe laughed and said, "She is a fake she can't see or hear me."
Charlie did a fake laugh back and said, "Your a Mystic too and stronger than me so I believe you can."
Pheobe frowned and said, "Okay, but I will be useless for the rest of the day after using all my energy."
Charlie stuck out her hand and added, "Talk to the hand cause my give a damn is busted."
Pheobe faded away like a mist. She knew Charlie had defiantly had enough talk of this for one day.