I peer through the glass. “What’s his name?”
“Jamie Rodriguez. Community college student. No priors. Works part-time at GameStop. No priors.”
“And why would Jamie confess to a murder he didn’t commit?”
Sherbet shrugs. “That’s why you’re here. My charm has only gotten me so far.”
“Okay, let me get a read on him.”
Sherbet waves to the officer on guard duty. The guy nods and opens the door for me. I step in, shut it behind me.
Jamie looks up sharply, briefly startled. Then scrunches his eyebrows, confused. “You’re not a cop.”
“Nope,” I say, pulling a metal chair out from the table and dropping into it. As I sit, I’ve already plumbed his mind and his memory, and I know exactly what’s going on here. “I’m the weird psychic cousin who smells lies like a bloodhound.”
He blinks. “Say what now?”
“I’m here to help with the case. Either help you or ruin you, depending on how the next few minutes go.”
He frowns. “I already told them everything I know.”
“No, you told them what someonewantedyou to tell them. I need you to listen to me very carefully, Jamie. You didn’t kill that woman. I know it, you know it, so the question is: who are you covering for?”
And if I dig a little deeper in his mind, behind all the memories and the made-up stories and conversations that never happened, I’ll find out soon enough.
His lip twitches. His aura shifts, quivers. Beneath the surface, there’s a scream. A mental scream. He’s terrified. Oh, snap. He’s been cursed. That’s why the name isn’t coming to me. It’s being blocked, hidden from even him.
“I can’t,” he whispers. “He’ll kill her.”
“Kill who?” I press, giving him a gentle command to fight through the curse.
Jamie runs his fingers through his hair, pulls at it, rocks in his chair, face grimacing, contorting.
Go on,I encourage him.You can do it. I’ll protect you.
“My... mom.”
“Who’s threatening her?”
His jawline ripples. He shakes his head.
Tell me,I command.
“Her... her boyfriend,” he finally says, the words clawing their way out of his mouth as if from a deep chasm. “His name is... Trent.”
As he says the name, his brain flashes with images: A big guy yelling, breaking things, dragging a woman by the hair, caveman-style.
“Travis made you confess to murder?”
Jamie nods. “Said if I didn’t, he’d… my mom was next.”
“What happened?”
“He killed Kayla, my roommate. Raped her and strangled her, all while I was out having lunch with my mom. I came back to him sitting in my apartment.”
I nod. With the memory of it fresh in his mind, I can see it right there. No need to go digging for it. I review it, shaking my head as I do. A cute gal lies crumpled, used, and discarded, like her life never meant a thing. Travis is sitting on the couch, wearing shorts and a t-shirt, smoking a joint, and looking pleased with himself. I hear Jamie hyperventilating in his own memory. He yells, “What have you done?” and Travis only grins more... and pulls out a pistol that had been tucked in the cushion next to him. I hear the threat to Jamie’s mother. He even threatened Jamie. Travis then tells Jamie what he’s going to do, and what he’s going to say. Travis isn’t a magician or a dark master, but his voice has command, and his eyes are hypnotic. This guy isn’t an energy vampire but damn close to one, able to control his fellow humans. Probably realized he could do something like this at a young age, and has been using people ever since.
My stomach turns. “So, you walked in here with a rehearsed script?”
