Paranormal Talent Agency Omnibus Read online

  I really hated entrancing humans when it was my fault they saw something they shouldn’t. The need for discretion was always present. I knew better. Sometimes, though, the water just called to me. I shrugged even though nobody was watching, peeled off the wet bathing suit, and returned it to the back of the wicker chair before trudging up the stairs to my bedroom for a well-deserved nap.

  Hours later, I woke finally refreshed physically and emotionally. My phone showed a text from Liz letting me know she was free. Before I called, I sent a quick text to Jacob, asking if he had time to meet today and where.

  “Hey, Mia,” Liz answered the call. Apparently, I’d already made it onto her Contacts list. I smiled.

  “Hey, Liz, how was the show?”

  “Very good. How was your nap?”

  “Excellent.” Chit chat out of the way, I dove right in. “I may have some new info. I thought I’d swing by and pick you up, then we could go see Jacob.”

  “Ooo, what new info?” I could hear the reporter in her salivating at my words.

  I laughed. “I’m gonna make you wait.”

  “Tease.”

  “Are you at the studio or home?”

  “Studio.”

  “Be there in fifteen.” Ending the call, I read the response from Jacob that he was at headquarters for training today and to let him know when we’d arrived.

  *****

  Liz still wore remnants of her show makeup, I saw, when she opened the passenger door and hopped in my car. She’d changed into a t-shirt and jeans, though, from whatever fancy dress she wore for the show this morning.

  “What do you know?”

  “A friend of mine who knows people,” I started, deliberately vague because I wasn’t sharing Evie’s paranormal status – and I knew it would drive Liz crazy.

  “What friend? Who does she know?” I flashed a smile and Liz shook her head. “Fine. Continue.”

  “My friend who knows people said that although we don’t have a last name for Juni, my friend has reason to believe we should be looking for a sister.”

  Liz’s mouth fell open. “What… where… how… I don’t understand,” she finally completed a statement. Her mouth twisted while she thought.

  “Without a last name at all, and uncertainty whether the first name is even real, how on earth could your friend, no matter what she does or who she knows, possibly have deduced that there’s a sister?” Liz stared at me, her look indecipherable.

  I made a noncommittal noise. “She just does.”

  “How are we going to bring this to Selina and Jacob? They’re police officers,” she needlessly reminded me. “There’s no way they’re going to accept this information, without thinking we know more than we’re sharing with them. Do we know more than we’re sharing?” She asked this question, a shrewd look on her face as she tried to figure out where I was coming from.

  “That’s all I can say,” I replied honestly. Even if I trusted Liz more, she was a newscaster. There was zero chance if I told her the paranormal angle that it wouldn’t wind up all over her show in the morning. I wasn’t dumb.

  “Hmm.” Liz removed her phone from her purse and sent a text. Less than a minute later, her phone dinged, several times in a row, announcing responses. “Shocker. Selina wants to know how I could know this, who told me, and what more do I know.” She gave me the side eye. “What should I tell her?”

  I knew her question was mostly rhetorical, but I ticked off the answers to Selina’s questions anyway. “You have your sources, you don’t disclose your sources, and that’s all you’re willing to share right now.”

  “Or, how about this?” she countered. “I have my source, her name is Mia, and she’s hiding the rest of the information.”

  The clear irritation in her voice surprised me. She was a reporter, after all; she should understand protecting sources. I guess she just wasn’t used to being denied. “We’ll start with this,” I said gently. “And see what happens.”

  She nodded her head, though the crossed arms and frown suggested less agreement. Before she could say anything else, we arrived at Metro headquarters.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I pulled into the parking lot off of MLK Blvd and headed to the building on the left. Once inside, I texted Jacob. Two volunteers in bright yellow shirts sat behind a glass partition with a small opening at the bottom.

  “We’re here to see Detective Jacob Dawson,” I announced to the hole. “He’s on his way to get us.”

  “ID please,” came the response.

  Liz and I slid our driver’s licenses through the hole, the volunteer dutifully made a note of our information.

  “Phone number?” We each rattled this off. The door to the left clicked then opened as the volunteer slid visitor badges on lanyards through the hole. “Wear these at all times in the building and return them on your way out.”

  “Thank you,” I spoke into the hole, before turning to Jacob walking through the open door. “Perfect timing, Detective Dawson.”

  The detective’s eyes took in my appearance again – occupational hazard, or should I take this personally? Sheesh. I almost wanted to strike a pose for his benefit, but it wouldn’t be that impressive, with my hair in a high ponytail, green t-shirt, and jeans over green wedges. He, on the hand, looked business casual nice, with a short-sleeved blue shirt over dark khakis and boots.

  My eyes finished their exploration and he had a soft smile when I met his gaze. “Good afternoon, Ms. Fynn. And Ms. Addison,” he added a beat later, his expression souring when he recognized the newscaster.

  “Try not to be so happy to see me,” she quipped.

  “What can I do for you ladies?”

  “Liz and I took a field trip to LA,” I started, “to look into the other Facebook Live murder.”

  Jacob’s eyes were unreadable in an impassive face. “Okay.”

  “We uncovered some information we think may be helpful,” I continued with a big smile. See how helpful I could be? He didn’t bite.

  “How did you investigate that case in another city? Friends in high places?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Liz retorted coyly and Jacob stiffened.

  “What did you find out?”

  I quickly brought him up to speed, skipping over the part with Selina giving us copies of department documents, and instead focusing on the deceased’s social media info and our talk with his mother.

  “We have a unexpected new direction you can pursue,” Liz finished with a sly smile. “We’re hoping to make a deal.”

  “We are?” Liz shot me a look and I realized I said that out loud. Would have been nice if she had clued me in beforehand.

  “We’ll give you our information if you promise me an exclusive when you learn more.”

  “I don’t have the authority to make a deal like that, Ms. Addison,” Jacob said tonelessly.

  “You’re a detective, aren’t you?”

  “I’m on a team. It doesn’t work like that.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “No, it doesn’t. And I’m not going to argue with you like we’re children. If you don’t wish to share your information without a quid pro quo…,” he turned to head back to the locked door.

  “Jacob, wait!” He turned back, more at my use of his first name than my request, I would guess. My face reddened. “I’ll give you what we have.”

  “What?!”

  “Liz, I get that you want the scoop, but solving the murder is more important,” I explained to my indignant partner. She harrumphed and crossed her arms. Jacob was now smiling.

  “Look, Ms. Addision, I can try. That’s the best I can agree to,” he offered.

  “I’ll accept that,” she agreed, mollified at least a little by his concession.

  “We believe the murders of Roger Miller in LA and Chad Johnson here were committed by the same person,” I began.

  Jacob nodded. “LAPD and I agree.”


  “We also believe that the murders may be related to Roger’s girlfriend, Juni.”

  “We looked at that angle and dismissed it,” Jacob disagreed.

  “Why?” Liz asked.

  Jacob paused before answering. “Juni had no connection to the victim here; and she was long-gone or long-dead by the time of either victim’s murder.”

  “That’s true,” I agreed. “But, we have reason to believe that she may have a sister who is seeking revenge for Juni’s death.”

  If Jacob’s eyebrows could rise any higher at my comment, they’d launch off his head. “Where did you get information that Juni has a sister?” His eyes narrowed at us.

  “We aren’t in a position to share that right now,” Liz responded primly, and I glanced down to hide the laughter in my eyes. Even she didn’t know where my information came from!

  “What is the connection between this alleged sister and the second victim? If you’re assuming she killed Roger because she believes Roger killed Juni, both very big ifs, by the way,” he over-enunciated to make his point, “what possible reason could she have to kill Chad?”

  “We don’t know,” I admitted, and Liz smacked me in the arm. “We don’t,” I reminded her, rubbing my upper arm. She packed a wallop.

  “Anything else?” Jacob pointedly checked his watch.

  “Nope, that’s it. We just thought you should know,” I finished lamely.

  Jacob sighed. “No. Thank you. I’ll make a note of it and let the FBI know when they arrive.” His eyes appeared stricken the moment the words left his mouth. Or, more accurately, the initials.

  Liz’s eyes, however, lit up like it was her birthday. “The FBI is getting involved? Really?”

  Jacob closed his eyes for a moment, knowing he couldn’t retract his words. “Yes. That isn’t public knowledge. You didn’t hear it from me.”

  “Of course,” I assured him, already worried what Liz might do with that information.

  Liz extended her hand and Jacob clasped it, rather reluctantly it seemed to me. When their hands separated, he moved his in my direction. I reached out to shake goodbye.

  A visible spark popped between us and then his hand enveloped mine. “Damn, that static electricity,” I mumbled.

  “Are you okay?” he murmured. His thumb rubbed my skin.

  My cheeks flushed as heat flared in his eyes. How could we have this much attraction? I didn’t even think he liked me.

  Our hands separated and I answered, “I’m fine.” I glanced at Liz, my heart sinking when I saw the smirk on her face. “We hope the information is helpful.” I yanked the visitor badge lanyard over my head, Liz following suit, and flung them both at one of the volunteers.

  I grabbed Liz’s arm and steered her toward the glass door. I felt his eyes on me and despite my better judgment, risked a glance over my shoulder while we opened the door to exit. He had tilted his head, regarding me with another unreadable expression. I gave a half wave and scooted through the door before he had a chance to respond.

  Liz wisely stayed silent until we were safely back in my car. “You two should just get a room,” she crowed.

  My cheeks flushed again. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “The heck you don’t.” She laughed. “There was a visible dang spark when you touched. Visible,” she repeated. “That doesn’t happen every day.”

  “Sure, it does,” I argued. “It’s called static electricity. Just like I explained to Jacob.”

  “Don’t you mean Detective Dawson,” she teased.

  I sighed. “Whatever. We’re done.”

  “What do you mean, we’re done,” she demanded, all trace of laughter gone.

  I exited the parking lot onto Alta Drive, considered whether or not to take the 15 or surface roads back to the television station, while I deliberately delayed answering. Of course, I was going to continue to look into the murders. But, now that I knew for certain there was a paranormal aspect, I really didn’t want a reporter of any kind involved. Too risky. Liz waited me out.

  “We’ve given them a name. And now the FBI will be involved,” I finally stated, not meeting the eyes I felt staring at me.

  “Are you kidding? This is our story!”

  “No, it’s a probable serial killer,” I countered. “And we are not the best people to solve it.”

  Liz stewed in her seat while I drove in the silence. I began to rethink my stance. Not about telling her about the paranormal underworld; I was for sure not breathing a word about that.

  No, I was thinking about the adage, keep your enemies closer than your friends. Not that I considered Liz an enemy, but if I wanted to stay on top of what she was learning, continuing to work with her was the best way. What would be our next step that didn’t involve the paranormal? I decided to pitch the question, sans the paranormal.

  “What would be our next step then?”

  “You’ll keep investigating with me,” she said excitedly. A twinge of guilt surfaced at my deception.

  “Of course,” I answered with a smile.

  “Let’s think a minute.” Liz tapped her finger against her lip as she considered our next move. She jolted up in the seat, straining the seat belt. She faced me. “I know a tech guy; maybe he can do more with the partial picture of Juni. Also, I’ll see what he can find on the dark web.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I agreed. “Since both victims were actors, I’ll check in with friends of mine who know most of what’s going on in Vegas.” Liz eagerly agreed to our plan.

  My mind raced. Technically, I’d already spoken to Catherine and Evie, but maybe they’d heard something new. Because I was actually stumped. I was fairly confident the murderer was the dead djinn’s twin sister, but I was at a complete loss about how to find her. It’d been two days since Chad’s murder and two weeks since Roger’s murder. If she killed again, we probably had about ten days.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I was wrong about the ten days. I learned that when I reached out to Catherine the next morning. I chose the wrong day to sleep in.

  “Did you see the news?!”

  “Good morning to you too, Catherine,” I answered with a laugh. “No, what did I miss?”

  “There’s been another murder!”

  My good cheer died with her statement. “What happened?”

  “In LA again, another actor,” she explained. “My phone starting blowing up before dawn. I’ll bet Liz covers it on her show. It starts in ten minutes.”

  “I’ll text you after the segment,” I stated.

  “Sounds good.”

  I ended the call and clicked the television on to wait for Entertainment Daily to begin. They teased the story in the show’s intro and then broke for one set of commercials before presenting the meat of the story.

  Liz looked good, in a fire-engine red sleeveless shift that fell decorously to her knees. With her four-inch Jimmy Choo’s, she was captivating. Her eyes sparkled despite her somber expression and tone when she spoke.

  “Details are scarce, and police aren’t talking, but it appears the Firecracker Killer has struck again.”

  “Firecracker Killer?” I asked the air. “When did we start calling her that?”

  “Last night, around midnight, another actor was killed while doing a Facebook Live video,” she intoned. A graphic appeared with The Firecracker Killer in neon over a recorded video. My heart sank as I realized it was the video.

  “Hi, everyone, for those of you who don’t know me, I’m Bradley Reese,” he introduced himself, setting off a set of cute dimples in his baby face. He couldn’t be much more than twenty, with that mop of brown curls and smooth skin. The video paused as Liz continued to speak.

  “And just like in the first two videos, Bradley realizes something isn’t right.”

  Back to the video graphic. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see this baby die. Soon that part arrived.

  “Do you hear that? What’s that noise?” B
radley asked as popping sounds filled the space. And then silence.

  “Police discovered the body after several viewers called 9-1-1,” Liz told her own viewers. “Police have not used the expression serial killer yet.” Though you now had, Liz. I was sure they appreciated that. “But, a source tells me—” Don’t do it Liz! “—that the FBI has been called in to assist with the investigation. Maybe because the killer is crossing state lines? As a reminder, the first murder occurred in LA, the second here in the Valley, and the third now back in LA. We’ll update you as we learn more information.” Wide, toothy smile for the audience and then cut to commercial.

  I sat back on my couch, thinking. At least she didn’t disclose we thought an unidentified twin of a dead woman was the killer. That placated me a little. Liz sure did give up everything else. I knew Evie was getting her vampire sleep, but I grabbed my phone off the coffee table and texted Catherine.

  Ugh. Come over?

  Be right there.

  About thirty minutes later, a knock on my door. I opened it immediately. Catherine looked paler than normal. I gave her a hug before stepping aside for her to enter my house.

  On the way to the breakfast table, I paused at the refrigerator. “I know it’s morning, but do you want a drink?”

  Catherine laughed. “Yes, but I’m going to pass.”

  I figured she would. I just wanted to make her laugh. Mission accomplished. We settled into the wicker chairs. Entertainment Daily still played on the screen in the living room, but muted. “What do you think?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know.” She stared out my sliding glass doors for a moment before turning to me. “I’ve told all my clients no more social media videos until the killer is caught.”

  “That sounds wise,” I responded. “Why offer a target? Just for a little publicity.”

  “Exactly. Some of the younger ones who still believe they’re invincible,” she half-smiled at that, “tried to argue with me, but I made it clear. I will drop anybody who doesn’t follow this order. And yes, it most definitely was an order,” she answered my unasked question.

  I nodded, unsmiling. “Good for you. They need to take this seriously. Especially since we don’t know what Juni’s sister wants.”