Chapter Three
Charleston, South Carolina
Vicki sat on her couch, a glass of wine within arm’s length sitting on the end table, her nerves strung so tight she could barely breathe. She stared at the periodical in her lap, the glossy bombshell she’d discovered in the rack at the grocery store checkout. UFO & Paranormal magazine. Good gosh, a rag promoting aliens. This was who had unearthed her curse and printed it for the world to see?
She squeezed her eyes closed, forced herself to inhale. Oh God, her worst fear had come true. Her secret was out. But never in her wildest imaginings had she expected a cheesy outfit like this—UFOP magazine—to root out the truth.
She reached for the glass of rosé and took a huge gulp. Burrowing into her couch, she opened the magazine, exposing her hideous photo. She cringed. Exactly who was this guy who’d stalked her for months and written a slanderous article? She forced herself to ignore the nightmare picture of herself and searched farther down for the author’s name.
Lenny Johnston.
Yeah, he would rue the day if she ever tracked him down. She read the exposé from beginning to end and started over again, reading slower the second time. Lenny proclaimed Vicki had the insidious ability to blend into a crowd, and dressing down was her camouflage. He declared that if Death had a face, he’d just captured it on film, and if the reader valued his life, he would run the other way.
Forcing her fingers to ease up from clutching the pages, she continued on to the next part of the piece, which recounted the incident at Three Beans Café—though he hadn’t mentioned the place by name, she knew. Events from that day still haunted her dreams.
Lenny described how a young girl shot and killed a gang member moments after visiting the café. Moments after being in Vicki’s presence. He alleged while Vicki’s hands might not have blood on them, she’d known about the impending death and had waited for it. He hypothesized Vicki had somehow hypnotized the girl or, more likely, possessed the girl in order to carry out her sinister plan.
He then supported the detailed account with three other incidents—a car crash, a drowning, and a heart attack. He claimed her presence at each alleged accident and pronounced the events beyond coincidence. The only logical answer? Victoria the Paranormal Parasite had brought them about.
In the final paragraph of the article, Lenny promised in the future to bring accurate investigative accounts of Vicki’s unsuspecting victims and discover how and why she did what she did. In the last sentences, he vowed to follow Victoria until his dying day—and if his death was untimely, his readers should investigate immediately.
Vicki laughed, the wry sound echoing off the living room walls.
“Lenny, I just became your biggest fan.” She guzzled more wine then set it on the end table. “When you figure out how and why I do what I do, I’ll want to read all about it.”
Now that her secret had been uncovered, she’d have to make plans to leave. She would pack her most valued possessions and close up the house. Tomorrow, she’d leave Lenny and UFOP magazine in the dust. The Paranormal Parasite would disappear.
She tossed the glossy tell-all aside. She remembered every person mentioned in the article, their faces, the moment their lives ended. Guilt squeezed her lungs. Breathe, just breathe. It’ll be all right. I can’t help seeing the symbols preceding their deaths. It’s not like I killed them, and God knows all the times I’ve tried to change the outcomes.
Scooching deeper into the couch’s overstuffed pillows, she straightened the soft blanket on her lap, grazing her fingertips over the intricate design knitted by her mother, the most giving and thoughtful woman she’d ever known. She’d worked tirelessly around the world, aiding those in need. Vicki would never forget the day she’d handed over the lottery ticket to her mother, admitting she’d taken it from Sarah the nanny. Her mom had smiled, hugged her tight, and said, “We’ll contact Sarah’s family and give it to them.”
She’d looked up at her. “We’re not gonna keep it?”
“No, sweetheart. We have everything we need. But Sarah’s parents haven’t been as fortunate. Sarah’s younger sister has been very sick. I think this money will pay for some very special treatment to make her better.”
Vicki’s heart ached with longing. Her mother had always been able to make everything right and remind her how blessed their family was. Oh, how badly Vicki wanted to talk to her mom, to ask her about the curse plaguing her. But she’d waited too long, afraid her mother wouldn’t have the answers…or she would. Regardless, Vicki had stayed a freak of nature.
She frowned. None of it mattered. All the ifs and I wishes meant nothing. Any possible solutions or explanations would remain lost forever. Her parents had died in a terrorist attack overseas just weeks after she’d graduated high school. Her best friend, Becca, had gotten her through the devastating time, her anchor to sanity. God, how she’d wanted to die. Even tried. But for the second time in her life, the mysterious Matthew had stepped in and saved her.
Reaching for her glass, she sighed. The familiar voices of Audrey Hepburn and Gary Cooper floated on the air, the rhythmic cadence of their conversation drawing her into their make-believe world. Her head light with wine and her mind in search of refuge, the semi-dark room suspended disbelief. Vicki welcomed the chatty banter of two people falling in love.
Although the couple on TV was wonderful distraction, her thoughts drifted to love. The dreamy sensation of falling for someone warm and compassionate. The overpowering desire for a man’s presence, his scent, the gentle glide of his hand over her cheek before his lips brushed against hers. Would that ever happen to her?
Sure, she’d gone on a few dates. But either the chemistry hadn’t mixed, or she had a vision her date’s future was about to change. The outcomes had all been the same—within two weeks, her date met his one and only true love. Difficult to get upset about. A marriage sure beat watching the guy she’d had dinner with two nights before get maimed in a construction accident or hit by a bus.
The television screen faded to black while Audrey and Gary stared soulfully into each other’s eyes. A moment later, a forty-ish bleach blonde appeared in a peach antebellum dress, complete with hoop skirt and lacy parasol. In a thick Southern accent, she proclaimed Savannah, Georgia, the vacation destination of a lifetime. Adventure, romance, and spirits—both ghostly and bottled—available to all. What more could a person want or need?
A horse-drawn carriage appeared on the television. The camera’s angle changed to the passenger seat and focused on graveyards, trees shrouded with Spanish moss, and popular restaurants and pubs. Downtown Savannah’s clean, safe streets panned across the screen.
The camera zoomed in on the carriage driver, a young brunette in her mid-twenties, sharing juicy details of the murder and mayhem that once filled the city. Her hair hung loose in natural curls, and her green eyes twinkled.
Without warning, Vicki’s world skewed and froze, the back of her neck becoming blowtorch hot. Light from the television intensified, and she squinted. The air thickened, her chest constricted, and her pulse banged in her temples. The sounds from the television slowed to a low guttural growl, and a high-pitched, teakettle whistle accosted her eardrums. She covered her ears.
The pictures came. One by one they flashed, burning images into her mind’s eye. Red bricks. Red dot. Red X. A green, metal rectangle. A red, pointed capital D.
Like a stretched rubber band, the vision abruptly released. Reality snapped back into place. The sound of a balloon bursting ended the teakettle’s screech inside her head.
Pop!
A shiver coursed through Vicki, raising spiky bumps along her skin. Sometime within the next two weeks, the smiling twenty-something carriage driver’s life would change. For better or the absolute worst, she didn’t know.
She hugged herself, rubbing her arms to chase away not just the goose bumps but the bone-deep chill as well. She glanced at the screen. Audrey and Gary continued their well-timed banter and blossoming love affair. She’d never had a vision about anyone on television. This was the first, which meant somehow her curse had changed. Could she no longer enjoy the simple act of watching TV?
Usually, her visions were about people near enough she could witness their outcome. The commercial had been shot just a couple of states away. But what if the next vision was about someone on the opposite coast? Or the other side of the world? She bit her bottom lip, unsure what the difference meant or why the commercial had brought about the variance.
She shook her head, the truth hitting hard. Either way it didn’t matter. The brunette carriage driver’s life would change—whether Vicki witnessed it or not.