Chapter 10: Ep 3 - Part One: Free As A Bird

“How can you live with what you did to her?” Smitty growled as he joined his partner in their cruiser.

Nash snorted. “She’s no better than the ones who do the killing. Whether she helped or not—she let it happen and refused to give the others up.”

Smitty shook his head. “You are a fool, Nash Jackman. A complete and total fool.”

“Just shut up; we have shit to do and a body to find.”

Smitty turned to look out the window. He couldn’t stand to look at his partner right now.

Nash tried not to think of what he had done to Airianna. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was, either. One minute he wanted answers, the next minute, he wanted to fuck her right there against the wall, his partner and the scum in the other cell watching.

How can he have any kind of feelings toward a woman who killed his best friend? No way was he going to believe that she only “dreamed” that painting up. She must have felt guilty about killing his friend and wanted to show him what happened to Daemen… But how did she know Daemen was his friend—unless… Unless Daemen said so before they killed him. But that would sign his death warrant. Why the fuck would he tell them that his best friend is a Detective!?

“Nash?”

Smitty’s voice brought Nash out of his thoughts.

“What?” he growled, agitated.

“Where are we going?”

Nash didn’t look at his partner. “To see if we missed anything at Daemen’s house.”

They sat in silence as they drove the short distance to the Fernend house. Nash pulled into the driveway of the second-story house. The detectives stepped out of the cruiser and looked up at the clouds coming in from the west.

“Looks like a storm,” Smitty mumbled.

Nash snorted. “Probably Miss Williams and her witch sisters.”

Smitty rolled his eyes. “Again. She is a seer, not a witch.”

“Same difference.” Nash shrugged as he walked toward the porch of his ex-fiancée and best friend’s house.

“Did you find him?” Maribelle asked as she rushed out to meet them.

Nash shook his head. “Not yet. I want to look through his office again, see if I missed something.”

“Of course.” Maribelle led them into the house and down the hall to Daemen’s office. “I’m sorry that I can’t be of more help. He doesn’t tell me much about his job.”

Nash and Smitty nodded as they walked into the office. They each took one side of the room and started rummaging through Daemen Fernend’s office, hoping to find a clue that may lead them to where the man’s body lay, waiting to be found.

~🔮~

“Another fucking hour wasted while Daemen’s body rots,” Nash grumbled, tossing another stack of useless papers across the room.

“What if he’s still alive?” Smitty asked, watching Nash.

Nash snorted. “She painted him dead, not alive.”

“But that’s what she saw. Maybe it hasn’t happened yet….”

“Don’t start again,” Nash growled, turning to his partner. “Don’t even defend her….”

“You are an A-One ass hole.”

Nash sneered. “Just because I don’t let a woman’s beauty override my brain?”

Smitty snickered. “Yeah, you let her override your brain, all right. Right into pinning her against the wall and kissing her brains out….”

Nash opened his mouth, and Smitty pointed a finger at him.

“And don’t even try to deny it. I saw what she did to you.” Smitty pointed to Nash’s crotch.

Nash bit his tongue. His partner was right, but he wasn’t going to dwell on what had happened in that cell. Because it will never happen again…

“Oh, my God!”

Maribelle’s cry had both men turning to the door as it burst open, and the woman stood before them, an open envelope in her shaking hands.

“He… he….” Maribelle couldn’t talk, so Nash took the envelope from her.

Smitty caught the poor woman before she fell to the floor when her legs gave out.

“What is it?” Smitty asked, watching his friend read the papers in the envelope.

A broad grin spread across Nash’s face as he looked up from the papers and pointed to his partner.

“We have what we need to find, Daemen.”

Smitty stared at the papers in Nash’s hand.

Nash shook the papers at his partner. “I knew Daemen was too smart for his own good. He mailed proof that his boss was skimming off the top of the company to himself, so if anything happened to him, we could find who did it and get justice.”

“What are we now, Batman?” Smitty mumbled as he helped Maribelle stand up straight.

“Come on,” Nash grumbled as he headed out the door.

“Are you going to find him?” Maribelle whispered.

Nash turned to her, a determined look on his face. “I plan to bring Daemen home,” he promised.

But he couldn’t promise he would bring his friend home alive.

~🔮~

Airianna watched the door open and a man step into the room. It wasn’t the officer who had tried to put the creep in this cell with her, thank God. But this man looked like he had power and could have her hung… Shit, where does she think she is, the nineteenth century?

“Shut the fuck up!” the man hollered at the thug in the next cell. “Say one more word about her, and I will have you sent to the other lock-up. Believe me, you don’t want to be there. Unless you want to get shivved in the middle of the night by a rival gang member.”

Airianna’s eyes opened wide when the area became eerily quiet… Whatever he said to the creep in the cell next to hers, shut him up good.

“Hello, Miss Williams,” he said, smiling at her, ensuring she could read every word he said. “My name is Captain Michael Dish.”

Airianna jumped to her feet. He’s Detective Jackman’s boss.

“I don’t know what Detective Jerkwad said to you, but I didn’t kill….”

Captain Dish put his hand up to stop her. “I know. Detective Smitt told me everything. I saw your painting. It is beautiful work. Just like your grandmother.”

Airianna opened and closed her mouth. He knows her grandmother? She doesn’t even know her grandmother.

“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered, still unsure if she could trust this man.

Captain Dish smiled as he pulled out his keys and unlocked the door. He swung it open and stepped back.

“You are free to go.” He motioned for her to leave the cell.

Airianna stared at the captain. Seriously? Or was this a trap?

“I swear, I am not luring you into any kind of trap. You are free to go.”

Airianna read the man’s lips and sucked in a breath. You would think he was the psychic here.

“Come along,” he said, motioning for her to leave the cell.

Airianna shook her head and moved out the door. She wouldn’t give the captain time to change his mind.

They left the room and walked down the hall that led to the front entrance. Once they were outside, he tapped her shoulder. She turned to him, and he smiled.

“I would love for you to help with some unsolved cases. I know you don’t get dreams from touching things, but maybe one of them is in your stack of drawings and paintings.”

Airianna blinked up at the man. Had he let her go so she would owe him a favor?

The captain chuckled. “You don’t owe me anything. I’ve been asking your father for your help for many years, and he has turned me down every time.”

“I know,” she whispered. “Can you see now why my father has turned you down?”

Captain Dish closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

“You’ve got to understand. Detective Jackman has a history with psychics and doesn’t trust them….”

“So he arrests me for murder….”

“It won’t be on your record. Detective Smitt made sure of it. There’s no paper trail that leads to your arrest. You were never here.”

Airianna looked into the captain’s eyes and sighed when she saw honesty and hope shining back.

“Why do you believe in me so much? I have never brought you a painting, have I?”

The captain smiled. “No. It’s a long story….”

“Well, I have nowhere to be, now that I no longer am wanted….”

“Believe me, you’re wanted,” the captain said with a laugh as he took her arm and led her down the stairs. “Let’s get some coffee, and I’ll tell you a story about a woman saving the life of a little girl.”

~🔮~

“What the fuck is this?” a man bellowed when he saw the detectives enter his building.

“That’s Fernend’s friend,” the security guard said as he watched the two men on the camera.

“Get rid of them,” the boss bellowed.

“Yes, sir,” the guard grinned as he stood up from his chair.

“Do not kill them,” the boss growled. “We don’t need the blood of the detectives on our hands while trying to settle the shit Fernend caused.”

The guard frowned. “Yes, sir.”

The boss watched the camera as the guard, and a few of his men walked over to the detectives to grab them and lead them from the building. To the boss’s chagrin, the detectives maneuvered out of their grasp and took down all five men within seconds.

“Fuck,” he grumbled as the two men looked straight at the camera and flipped him off.

“Everything okay, sir?” his secretary asked.

“No,” he growled. “Get back to work. I want everything to look like normal.”

“Yes, sir.” The woman turned and headed back to her desk.

“What the fuck do they want from me? There is no way they know I have Fernend—unless….”

“Wallawits! We know you’re here!”

Wallawits stood up and entered the lobby connected to his office sweets.

“Why, detectives, so nice to see you. How may I be of service?”

The larger of the two men growled at him. “Where’s Daemen?”

“Who?”

“Don’t play stupid!” the man growled as he moved across the room and into Wallawits face.

Wallawits swallowed. This behemoth of a man was intimidating—but not enough to make him give up his secrets.

“I don’t know….” Wallawits squealed as the man lifted him off his feet by his throat.

“Where is Daemen Fernend? I know you had him killed. Where the fuck is his body? How did you find the girl to help…?”

“What, girl?” Wallawits squealed.

Nash dropped the scumbag. “Where is he?” he demanded.

Wallawits sat on the floor, choking. “I’m going to turn in your badge number….”

Nash got in the asshole’s face. “I have proof that you are skimming your boss. Do you really want to go there?”

Wallawits eyes bulged from his head.

“What proof…?”

“This proof,” Nash grinned as he held the papers Daemen had mailed himself in the man’s face. “Daemen is smarter than you gave him credit for. He mailed copies of his proof to himself, just in case something like this happened. So his wife could find the man who killed her husband and make sure he paid.”

“Fuck,” Wallawits gasped.

Nash smirked. “Yes, indeed, you are fucked.”

“I don’t know where….” Wallawits squealed as he was yanked off his ass and into the air again.

“I don’t want to hear your fucking lies! Where is Daemen Fernend?!”

“If you don’t tell my partner what he wants to know, I can guarantee we will send those papers to every news reporter in the country, and I have a few friends who have blogs that deal with this kind of news….”

“Okay, okay,” Wallawits choked. “But I can’t guarantee he’s still alive….”

Nash squeezed the man’s throat. “Where is he?”

Wallawits gave them the address to where his men had taken Daemen Fernend.

Nash dropped the man to the floor.

“Now, the papers….”

Wallawits reached for the papers. Nash pulled them out of the man’s reach.

“But you said if I gave you the address,” Wallawits whined.

Nash grinned. “I never made any kind of deal with you.” Nash turned from the scum and headed for the door. “He’s all yours,” he said to the FBI agents who waited in the hall.

“Thank you, Detectives. We’ve been after this man for a long time,” the male FBI agent said before he entered the room to take Wallawits into custody.

The female FBI agent smiled at Nash. “Give me a call after you find your friend.” She winked, then followed her partner into the room.

“She likes you,” Smitty said with a smirk and chuckle.

Nash shrugged. He doesn’t give a shit if the woman liked him. He hasn’t been interested in any other woman since he met the so-called psychic. After he finds his friend’s dead body, he will be pressing charges against the only woman who has seemed to get him riled up in a way Nash hasn’t felt since he was a teenager.

But no, he can’t feel something for the woman who killed his best friend. Even if she didn’t pull the trigger herself.

“Come on, your friend is waiting for us to rescue him.” Smitty grinned as he watched his partner.

The man is completely smitten with the seer, and he won’t admit it, not even to himself.