The Sunflower Connection

By D. C. Walsh

Unpredictable psychic Gemma Glass has already cheated death twice in her young life. Now she's being stalked by a deadly stranger.

Gemma is determined to keep an eye on her old school crush when he returns to the Australian city of Aurora Waters with a secret. But is he still the man she thinks he is?

Ominous visions and unexpected excursions to other dimensions hint that her abilities are expanding but provide no clues about what her cruel stalker has planned for her; or whether a worse fate awaits her at the hands of someone even more dangerous.

Against her better judgement, she agrees to use her psychic ability to search for her grandmother's missing friend. The condition in which she finds him invites trouble with the police and raises disturbing questions about the safety of her nan's retirement village.

At least during her childhood battle with cancer, she knew exactly what she was up against… or did she?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tablo Publishing
• Release date: Dec 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9781685831417

Book preview

 In loving memory of 

Dad & Hayley.

Even in our darkest moments

the universe fills the sky

with sights that reveal glimpses of heaven.

CHAPTER ONE

Leon normally avoided cities. Crowds in general were a chronic source of irritation, let alone swarms of goggle-eyed sightseers like the ones that flocked to the Queensland coast year-round. Tourists were more annoying than blowflies, the way they flitted around the place spreading their foreign germs. And it was even worse since that rotten virus hit.

Outback towns were more to his liking, small communities you could only get to by driving backside-numbing days along monotonously straight strips of red-dirt road. People in the bush were nosy numbats, but at least there weren’t so many of them. He’d already been in Aurora Waters far longer than he would have liked, and if he wasn’t on his way by the end of March, someone else would end up paying for it.

He parked the stolen Mazda under the umbrella shade of a splashy Poinciana, glad of some relief from the blazing autumn sun. The sprawling branches covered with fern-like leaves, would screen out the worst of the midday heat, and keep him from baking like a loaf of damper in a camp oven while he waited. Even at that time of year, the sun managed to pack a red-hot punch, and any relief was better than nothing.

Hunched low in the seat, with a curtain of feathery foliage for camouflage, he kept an eye on the girl as she stepped out onto the road. The blustery easterly whipped her hair around her face, and before she could catch it, her skirt blew up in a sudden gust, exposing long, shapely legs.

The unexpected glimpse of lace edged panties dragged his mind to the time he’d watched her on the beach. Most of the other dolls on the coast baked themselves to a crisp on the white sand every day—but not her. She lathered herself in sunscreen and covered up with a hat and one of those sarong things when she wasn’t in the water. Thinking about the way she rubbed lotion over her curvy body got his blood going, and he imagined what it would be like to get his hands on her. He wasn’t a patient man, and it helped him tolerate all the waiting around.

Despite his hurry, it was too risky to show his face at the girl’s apartment block, especially with that hulking security guard coming and going at all hours. The dozy suburban street where her family lived was a far safer bet. Even on Sunday, the renovated show homes that lined the street, were as lifeless as a waterhole in the middle of a drought. Lucky for him, the Glass family were as docile as a mob of sheep and almost as dopey. A few more minutes dogging jittery Gemma should be enough to see the job done.

There was no boyfriend on the scene, or at least none that he’d noticed. Waste of a good body, but it was one less complication. Not that the girl would be much of an obstacle. She didn’t seem to know what day it was half the time, and he wondered if all the medical treatment had caused permanent damage. Not the type of scatterbrain he wanted to pin his future on, but he had little choice in the matter.

He checked himself out in the rear-view mirror. He was a good-looking rooster, an edge that had proven useful in the past. He’d never had any problems getting sheilas to throw themselves at him. The beard and shaggy hair had taken a bit of getting used to, especially with the humidity on the coast, but he couldn’t take the risk of anybody spotting him. He would get rid of it once he was far enough out of town. By then a dye job and stubble would do the trick.

He watched her walk around to the passenger side door.

The whole operation would have been so much easier if her old Hyundai had broken down along the highway. He could have offered her a lift, or a hand with repairs. Any excuse to get up close and personal without drawing attention to himself. The rusty heap of shit was almost as old as she was, but it hadn’t missed a beat in the three miserable days he’d been following her, and he wished he’d sabotaged the bloody thing days ago.

After fiddling around with something on the front passenger seat for a minute, she straightened up with a bunch of scraggly flowers in her arms. Then out of the blue, she turned in his direction.

Hoping she hadn’t seen him, he ducked behind the dashboard.

He was wound up tight, and when his hands stiffened around the steering wheel, he ordered himself to take it easy. He didn’t want to go off half-cocked. If he was going to make his play before she went inside, he had to keep his wits about him. Flexing his fingers to release the tension, he wiped his palms along his pants legs. Once he had himself in check, his right hand shifted to the door handle and he slipped out of the car.

Fuck! He couldn’t believe his bad luck. Someone was keeping tabs on her from one of the upstairs windows.

Although he was positive he could take care of her family if push came to shove, another mistake would likely be the end of him. He wanted to go for it anyway, but he couldn’t afford to blow the whole operation when he was so close. His rage flared at the delay, and fighting to keep his anger under control, he vented his frustration on the car door; slamming it so hard, the bang echoed down the street.

He was sick and tired of all this cloak and dagger garbage, and he didn’t intend to stand for much more of it. There had to be an easier way.

He would hang around until she came out, then after he took care of business, he would treat himself to a little bonus. She owed it to him for putting him to so much trouble, making him wait around in the stinking heat and getting him all hot and bothered. Besides, she could do with a bit of loosening up. It was probably just what the doctor ordered. And if she didn’t give him what he wanted…

His greasy fingers tightened around the steering wheel again.

CHAPTER TWO

Reaching down to the passenger seat to grab the sunflowers, Gemma froze like a mannequin in a department store window when an anonymous hand reached out of nowhere to pluck a perfect bloom from the middle of her bouquet. Sensing that it wasn’t one of her cheap sunflowers at risk, she watched—spellbound—as deft fingers crushed a few flawless petals.

The ominous vision dissolved as suddenly as it had appeared, and there was no way to tell whether it had been an omen or a premonition. She could only hope her day wouldn’t get any more bizarre.

The leafy housing estate where her family lived was eerily quiet. There was no blaring music, children had disappeared from manicured lawns, not even birdsong penetrated the dense atmosphere. The only sound was an ambient murmuring drone that sent chills up her spine. At first she thought it was traffic noise, but the rhythm was more organic, and even as she considered its origin, the volume increased.

A sweeping glance around the deserted street convinced her there was no immediate threat, but when a car door slammed nearby, it set her nerves on edge, and she raced up the drive of her parents’ house.

The front door was wide open, with only an unlocked security screen protecting her family from potential intruders. A blue bridal garter draped provocatively over the door handle, reminded her why she was there, and despite the uneasy feeling that had been haunting her for days, she shrugged off her mood and thought about the task ahead.

Following the scent of blood orange from one of her mother’s candles, she found her arranging furniture in the large, open-plan living area at the rear of the house.

I didn’t hear you come in love. Kristin Glass clattered over imitation marble tiles on hazardously high heels, to place a delicate peck on her daughter’s cheek. Even with the additional height afforded by the shoes, she needed to reach. Glad to see you remembered the sunflowers. It’s always handy to have an extra bit of luck on our side. Have you been busy?

Gemma laid the flowers on the island bench that separated the kitchen from the rest of the casual living area. The website’s been steady. No big jobs with the agency lately though. A few pieces from the new lingerie range would be nice.

We’ll see. It depends how well you perform. Her mother aimed a sideways glance at her as she continued the preparation for the party.

Although Gemma knew she was only teasing, she felt the pressure anyway. Is Angela excited?

"She’s thrilled about the party, and even more ecstatic about the engagement. She’s been single for years… like someone else we know. Her mother sent another sidelong glance her way. She met Matt online. Who would have thought?"

Good for her. I spend enough time online as it is. I prefer to meet people the old-fashioned way.

And how’s that strategy working out for you? I hear Matt is a real catch. Goes to show you should never lose hope. I’m giving them lingerie as an engagement gift. He’ll be more grateful than Angela when he sees it.

I’m sure it will come in very handy on the wedding night. Where’s Dad? It was time to change the subject before her mother tried to talk her into downloading Angela’s dating app.

Do you really need to ask? He’s at the sports club. No way he would hang around the house for one of my parties.

Will Naomi be here today?

It wouldn’t be any fun without her. A crooked smile skewed the corners of her mother’s fuchsia tinted lips. But at least if Doug’s not here, I won’t need to keep such a close eye on her with the champagne.

He’s not exactly thrilled with what either of us do for a living, is he?

As long as he doesn’t have to be here, he can block it out and pretend it’s not happening. Besides, he gets to admire the merchandise in private.

Gemma pretended to gag. I really didn’t need to hear that. As if I don’t have enough disturbing pictures crashing my skull uninvited.

You’re old enough not to be offended by the idea of a mature couple enjoying themselves in the bedroom my darling.

Give me a break. I’m already dealing with enough issues to keep me in therapy for another ten years.

You’ve always been such a sensitive little thing. She ran scented fingers over Gemma’s fine stream of ash-brown hair, tucking a wayward tendril behind her ear. Comes with the territory I suppose. As for your father, he worries about you. We both do. I’d better keep moving, the girls will be here soon.

You’re the little one. I’ve been head and shoulders over you for years. I’ll put the flowers in a vase. Are you sure there’s nothing else you need me to do? What about the spare bedroom?

It’s ready to go. Once I get a few drinks into the partygoers, they’ll be keen to try on all the pretties.

Is the gremlin locked in his dungeon? She was only half joking.

If only it was legal to lock him in. He knows to stay in there until the party’s over. Not that he comes out very often anyway. If he goes anywhere near the change room again, he’s in serious trouble.

Gemma chose a vase for the sunflowers from her mother’s collection. It wasn’t as extravagant as the one she had seen in her vision, but it would have to do. It fit right in with the faux velvet throws and gaudy silk scarves draped over the furniture.

What do you think about the decor? I thought I’d go for a combination of boudoir chic and fortune teller’s caravan.

You’ve been running the business long enough to know what you’re doing. It’s not my taste, but I suppose it serves the purpose.

Her mother seemed pleased with herself, and once the bubbly started to flow, it tended not to matter anyway. A combination of lamplight and scented candles softened the effect, and an assortment of even more questionable props would be brought out later, when everyone had loosened up with a champagne or two.

It’s not about taste, my darling. It’s about mystery and intrigue… and fun. You’re so uptight, you must take after your father.

The doorbell interrupted their conversation, chiming to the triumphal tune of Here Comes the Bride.

That was her cue to exit, and while her mother added the final touches to her merchandise display, she fled down the hall to answer the door.

Kristin’s best friend was first to arrive, greeting Gemma with an affectionate hug and the warmth of a beloved aunt. Hello beautiful, fancy meeting you here. You look well.

Although she loved Laura, Gemma cringed inwardly at the familiar phrase. It not only implied that she had gained weight, but it also reminded her of her illness, and either way she couldn’t win.

Before we join the party, Laura said, I thought I’d try to jump the queue for a private reading. Are you free now?

Of course, anything for you. Besides, that’s what I’m here for.

As a long-standing family friend, Laura had provided invaluable comfort and support during the emotionally draining years of her illness, and she would never refuse a special request from her. Resting one hand on her silk clad arm, Gemma relaxed and tried to concentrate. In the darkness behind her eyes, bright spots of light that usually danced in haphazard array, joined together to create a fuzzy impression. 

How many children does Heidi have now? she asked.

I knew it, Lee’s having another baby, isn’t she? Will it be a girl this time? I’ve always wanted a granddaughter.

I can’t tell you that, Heidi would kill me. I don’t know how far in the future it is… they may not even know themselves yet. I don’t want you to be disappointed if things don’t turn out the way you expect. Remember there are no guarantees.

Don’t be so critical of yourself, Laura scolded her gently, you’ve never let me down before. I’m going to be a grandmother again, how exciting. Thank you beautiful, you’ve made my day.

The next hour was a blur for Gemma. Her role was to mingle with the guests and perform impromptu clairvoyant readings while her mother tempted them with an array of food and drinks and an introduction to her latest lingerie range. At her request, Gemma’s psychic interpretations included an occasional inventive scenario designed to boost sales.

As part of the fun, the bride-to-be was repeatedly urged to show off the items she planned to wear on her wedding night. She may have eventually agreed if not for an unexpected interruption.

Kristin left the room to answer the door, only to return soon afterwards with a police officer in tow. Girlish laughter subsided to breathless giggles and there was a sudden rush to recover missing clothing items.

Angela, I’m so sorry. This police officer is here to deliver some very bad news.

Angela Martin? Stern eyes roamed the room, lingering in simmering intensity on every face.

Kristin pushed Angela forward.

Ms. Martin, I’m sorry to inform you that your days of freedom are over. My name is Constable Carl, and you are under arrest for crimes against single men everywhere.

The pretend police officer’s face erupted in an impudent grin as he removed his cap and floated it up into the air toward the enthralled audience. Sliding behind Angela, he seized her hips and guided her towards a waiting chair. Once she was in position, he grasped the front of his shirt with both hands and wrenched his costume away, baring a smoothly tanned body, rippling with bulging muscles.

There was an audible gasp from the crowd, and with all eyes trained on Angela and her handsome seducer, she immediately turned a similar shade of red to one of Kristin’s flashy throws.

As raunchy music blasted out around the room, Carl’s erotic gyrations—of which Angela reaped most benefit—prompted facial expressions among the goggle-eyed women ranging from awe to awkwardness. The rapt audience offered enthusiastic encouragement for his efforts in the form of shouts and whistles, while the practically naked entertainer thrust his lascivious hips in time to the music and moved the rest of his meticulously sculpted body in ways designed to make half the onlookers blush and the other half drool with desire.

Gemma rated an entertaining male stripper as much as anyone, and while her appreciative eyes were riveted to Carl’s pumped-up body, her usually restrained mouth dropped open of its own accord at some of his more exotic moves.

Her attention only wavered when an erratic movement in the corner of the crowded room dragged her gaze away from his provocative performance. On the floor against the back wall was a model racing car, and although it was partly