Lonely Angels

By Heather D. Veinotte

As a medium, Kelsey Gordon has had to deal with people’s distain of her gifts for most of her life. Through her firm, “Gordon’s Agency” she’s been hired by the Mayor’s Task Force of the city of Bridgeview to help find three little girls that have vanished without a trace. As soon as she’s introduced to the very handsome Lieutenant Jake Carson, she feels his contempt for what she stands for and realizes that this assignment will not be an easy one. The murderer must be found, but she knows if she and Jake work together, her heart will be lost to a man who detests what she is.

Lieutenant Jake Carson is stunned to learn that his uncle has hired a medium to work on the task force when he knew what his nephew thought of so called psychics. Anyone who declares that they have psychic powers are the lowest life form on the planet, but Jake has no choice but to work with her. To make matters worse, he can’t keep his eyes off of this beautiful, but phony Kelsey Gordon.

Time is running out. Kelsey’s life is threatened by the murderer and to complicate the situation they’re fighting the sexual cord that’s pulling them closer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heather D. Veinotte
• Release date: Jan 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9780973455939

Heather D. Veinotte

Playwright Heather D. Veinotte has written and directed more than 26 plays for radio and stage. As well as being a recognized playwright, she is the author of two novels, "The Mystery on Skull Island" - A young reader book and "Beyond the Mist", a paranormal set in the 1800's in and near the historic towns of Lunenburg and Mahone Bay. Heather's very proud of the fact that this novel was awarded Honorable Mention in the prestige Writers' Digest Competition of North America.She was born in Bridgewater, Nova Scotia, the eldest of three children. Her love of stories began at a very early age when she would sit by her grandfather on his porch swing and listened enthralled as he wove tales about the "olden days" in Lunenburg County. Heather discovered the joy of books at a very early age. Along with the reading came the overwhelming passion to write, which she has never lost. She married her soul mate Bruce and together they have a son, daughter and two grandsons. They live in West Northfield, a charming community on the South Shore of Nova Scotia.

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LONELY ANGELS

By Heather D. Veinotte

Lonely Angels

Copyright 2015 by Heather D. Veinotte

Published by Heather D. Veinotte

Cover Design Crocodesigns

Formatting by IRONHORSE Formatting

Smashwords Edition

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

Discover other titles by Heather D. Veinotte www.HeatherDVeinotte.com

January 2015

ISBN ebook-13: 978-0-9734559-4-6

ISBN Print: 978-0-9734559-3-9

Dedication

To my family who have been so understanding and have allowed me the time to write this book.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

About Heather D. Veinotte

Chapter One

You expect me to put up with this crap?

Jacob Douglas Carson, known to everyone as Jake, stood in Captain Verge’s office at police headquarters, glaring at the man who loved him as a son. Captain Doug Verge leaned against the front of his desk with crossed arms, and watched his godson pace the floor of his small office, one that hadn’t been redecorated since King Kong had swung from the Empire State Building.

Jake, we had no choice. We’re dealing with three missing girls. We’ve no idea what their stats are and we haven’t come up with one lead that can help us. He ran his hand over graying, military cut hair and sighed with frustration. The Chief is getting major flack from the mayor. But because this is election year, they’re going to give us a little more time and then… He paused, watching Jake closely from under his bushy gray eyebrows, gauging how he was taking this latest report from the mayor’s office. They’re calling in the RCMP. He grabbed a cigar from the corner of his desk and rammed it into his mouth.

Damn, Jake, the RCMP are hovering like vultures as it is. If they get their foot in the door, you won’t be heading this investigation. You’ll be their errand boy. So cut me some damn slack, will ya?

Jake stopped pacing and sat in a chair by the door glaring at the captain. So they called in a psychic! I can’t believe you did that. For cripes’ sake, you know how I feel about them.

Doug nodded his head, rolling his unlit cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. I know how you feel, son, but not all of them are phony like she was.

Jake jumped up and strode to the window. He stared at the parking lot, watching without seeing Bridgeview’s men in blue change shifts. He sighed, fighting hard to suppress the memories that still haunted his sleep.

She came and gave Mom and Dad false hope. She told them Robyne was still alive, weeks after she went missing. Have you forgotten that when they found her body, the coroner’s report stated that Robyne had been killed as soon as the bastards had abducted her? Jake glared at his uncle. That hag lied to them from the very beginning.

The older man swallowed, nodding his head. I know, son. I was there.

Jake clenched and unclenched his fists. Mom and Dad are dead. He stared at the floor. She killed them with her lies.

The captain walked to the window and stood beside Jake, placing his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. His eyes filled with sadness, knowing that they could never retrieve what had been lost.

Son, she wasn’t driving the car that night. Deep down inside you know that. It was your dad’s drunk driving…that killed them.

Jake turned, hands digging into the pockets of his jeans. But, they believed every word she said, and now you want me to work with one of…them.

Doug squeezed the younger man’s shoulder. They’re not all the same son, they’re…

The phone rang, cutting short the heart wrenching memories. Doug walked behind the desk, grabbing the receiver from its cradle. Verge. Yeah, I’m listening. He glanced at Jake and sighed. Send her up.

* * *

Kelsey Gordon stepped out of the Hell Hole at police headquarters, commonly called an elevator. She leaned weakly against the wall, breathing deeply as she scowled at the small compartment that always changed her from a normal, rational individual into a terrified idiot. She focused on her purse, breathing in and out slowly, mumbling under her breath.

Get a grip Kelsey, it was only three floors.

The number of floors was inconsequential. She could panic and break out into a major sweat when she entered a room with the blinds pulled down, let alone an enclosed space smaller than her closet. She pushed down on her leg and bent her knee slightly, wincing. Three more weeks and her injured knee would be back to normal. Then she’d be able to take the stairs, but until that time, she had to suffer elevators.

Her cell rang. She grabbed the phone from her belt and flipped it open. Hello, Kelsey Gordon speaking.

Hi, honey. How’d the interview go?

Hi, Aunt Jo, I don’t know. I’m standing outside the door, ready to go in.

Josephine Gordon chuckled across the airwaves. Must’ve got my wires crossed. I thought it was this morning. I wish you’d back down from this assignment, honey. You’re still exhausted from your last case and your knee is still fragile. Melissa is wrapping it up in Boston, and she could fly into Halifax by tomorrow night.

I know she can, but I feel that I have to be here. After thirty-three years, when I feel the need to be somewhere or do something, I have to do it. I can look after myself, and you know that the women in our family always heed our feelings.

Her aunt sighed. Your Uncle Andrew calls it ‘damn stubborn’. Okay, I should know by now arguing is pointless. Just be careful and let me know how you’re doing.

Kelsey smiled. The normal way or our way.

Aunt Jo chuckled. Oh, do it our way, you know it drives your uncle nuts. Blow their minds away, honey. You’re my best field worker.

Kelsey laughed. Right. I know you say the same thing to Mel.

Her aunt laughed from thousands of miles away. Course I do. I show no favoritism. Seriously, Kelsey, I feel you have to be very careful with this assignment. Having said that, go impress their socks off. Love you.

Love you too.

Kelsey snapped her phone and pushed it back in its holster. She smiled, knowing it really would drive Uncle Andrew crazy.

She had inherited her gift from her mother’s side of the family. Aunt Jo had that same gift, or curse depending on the situation. All the women, and only the women in her family, had physic abilities that had been bequeathed down through the generations. But not all of them had the same talents. Her cousin Melissa was an honest-to-goodness ghostbuster. Kelsey’s mom had been one, too.

She could hardly remember her mother. She’d been almost four and her cousin Melissa only six months younger when they were both orphaned. All four parents had been killed on a skiing trip in the Rockies.

Aunt Jo and Uncle Andrew took their young nieces into their home and hearts, giving them their name and training them to hide their gift from the normal world until they were old enough to understand how to wisely use their special talents.

Kelsey sighed and rolled her shoulders. Aunt Jo was right on the mark. She needed down time badly. Mentally and physically she was exhausted, but with every fiber of her being she knew this is where she had to be. Gift or curse, this one wasn’t going to be easy.

She moved away from the odious elevators and scanned the squad room. Overflowing desks squeezed behind cubicles made up of six foot high dividers. These cramped quarters gave a small degree of privacy to the men and women who spoke on phones, pounded on keyboards or interviewed wary citizens of Bridgeview.

The pandemonium of the huge room assaulted her ears and her senses. Hookers and pimps glared at their inquisitors from across desks. Spaced out druggies demanded lawyers. Others sat desolate and inconsolable while Bridgeview’s finest moved back and forth between the narrow aisles, dodging each other with the practiced ease of an age-old dance.

The doors of three small offices faced the elevators from the opposite side of the room. Each boasted a small rectangular window overlooking the squad room.

The nameplate on the middle door told her that she’d found Captain Verge’s office. Before the vibrations of her knock died away, the door swung open and a short, stocky man in his late fifties stood in front of her. An unlit cigar hung from the corner of his mouth. He gave her a quick once over and smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

Captain Verge?

The one and only. Come in, kid.

Kelsey entered his office and mentally gasped as waves of animosity crashed against her, causing her to lurch with shock. In seconds, she’d regained her composure and zeroed in on the source that had sent her reeling.

With his arms crossed, he faced the only outside window in the room. Kelsey judged he stood about six feet tall. Dark brown hair curled around the high neck of his body-hugging black sweater. This guy worked out, a lot.

He turned from the window and faced her.

Kelsey almost gasped. The guy was drop dead gorgeous. Alarms were sounding in her head. Not good. No indeedy, not good at all.

After giving her a long insolent glance from head to toe, those startling green eyes locked with hers. Kelsey mentally groaned. Great. There wouldn’t be a lot of Kodak moments with Hunky here. She didn’t have to be psychic to tell that this man was not a happy camper.

She held her hand out to Captain Verge. I’m Kelsey Gordon.

Captain Verge took her extended hand in a firm shake. Nice to meet you, Miss Gordon.

Please call me Kelsey. She straightened her shoulders and glanced toward the window.

The captain cleared his throat, clearly sending a warning to the younger man to behave. And this is Lieutenant Jake Carson. He’s heading the task force that you’re on.

Kelsey offered Jake her hand. It hovered in the air. Seconds seemed like minutes.

Jake growled. Finally he reached out, and she sensed he would be happier touching something from the Bridgeview sewer. Their hands touched.

Kelsey rocked back on her heels as a jolt of electrical energy surged through her. Jake threw her hand down. Her confusion and shock was mirrored in his eyes.

Unaware of what had just happened, Captain Verge cleared his throat. Take a seat, kid. You and Jake will be working together closely until you find the missing or… he paused and looked at Jake, until the chief of police calls in the RCMP.

He moved behind his battered desk and sat down. Chewing on his unlit cigar, he gave her the onceover as she sat on the chair by the door. So tell us what you need. We don’t have a lot of time. Everyone is breathing down our necks, and I mean everyone.

Kelsey tried to ignore the tingling that still danced through her body from touching Jake. She strove for composure. Sweeping her long blonde hair from her forehead, she glanced over at Jake leaning against the window with his arms crossed, still glaring at her.

I’ll need whatever information you have on all the victims. She leaned over and pulled a notebook from her navy leather bag, flipping the cover to the first page. I’ll have to have articles of clothing from each of the children, or something that they loved and handled a lot.

Doug made notes, nodding his head and grunting affirmation while she spoke.

And I need to sit in their bedrooms or someplace very special to them. Also, I’d like to interview the parents, or guardians, if that’s at all possible. I need to do this so I can, she stole a look at Jake, reach out to the children—if they’re still alive.

Jake swore and crossed the room in a few long strides, grabbing the doorknob. He loomed over her. She craned her neck to stare at Mr. Eye Candy, but she didn’t have to read him to tell that her offer of friendship wasn’t totally accepted at this moment.

His left hand held the door while he waved his finger, inches from her face. Kelsey wanted to bite it, just for the shock value, but fought the urge.

I want you to get something straight, Gordon. I don’t want your type here. You must have pulled the wool over someone’s eyes to get this job. He raised his hands to his head, rolling his eyes in a mock trance. Or maybe you sent telepathic messages to someone so the mayor would hire you. I guess I’m the only one here that can see through to your fraudulent, cash-hungry heart. You and your kind are all the same.

He kept waving his finger in front of her face. And you know what else? I don’t think you could find your way out of a wet paper bag with a map. I don’t want you here, but I’ll tolerate you, only because I have to.

She watched an unspoken message pass between the two men.

I’ll be out in my car waiting. I have to take you to the Bridgeview Hotel. With your ability, I’m sure you’ll be able to find my car.

He slammed the door, exiting a room overflowing with embarrassment and resignation.

Kelsey stared at the calendar still swinging on the door from Jake’s exit. Mentally she pulled herself together and threw off his harsh words. The same razor sharp words she’d heard for most of her life. Thanks to Aunt Jo and Uncle Andrew she’d learned not to let their long blades pierce her heart anymore.

Doug pursed his lips, expelling all the air from his lungs. He grinned sheepishly at Kelsey. I thought that went rather well. Didn’t you? He waited for her reaction to Jake’s exit. I’m sorry kid, but…

She raised her hands, interrupting him. Look, I know it wasn’t me he was directing his anger at. She smiled at the captain, reassuring him that she was all right. Maybe it’s who I represent. I sensed Jake lost so many loved ones and he’s still hurting. Who I am and what I do is something that’s not acceptable in his life. I’ve brought painful memories back that he thought he had dealt with after the loss of his family.

Doug stared at her, his mouth hanging open. The same stunned look that she’d seen so many times before. He chewed on his unlit cigar, pushing it around his mouth, before grinning. "I’m betting you’re