Burned, p.1
Burned, page 1
Burned
Paranormal Penny Mysteries, Volume 6
Sarah Hualde
Published by Indie Christian Writers, 2022.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
BURNED
First edition. June 14, 2022.
Copyright © 2022 Sarah Hualde.
ISBN: 978-1736756638
Written by Sarah Hualde.
Also by Sarah Hualde
Honey Pot Mysteries
Missing on Main Street
Lethal in Lavender
Farmers Market Fatality
Death by Donation
Killer Con Fuego
Write and Wronged
Honey Pot Mystery Box Set 1
Paranormal Penny Mysteries
Grounded
Frosted
Crushed
Tailed
Cracked
Played
Burned
Standalone
Diary of a Dyslexic Homeschooler
Watch for more at Sarah Hualde’s site.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By Sarah Hualde
Dedication
Author’s Note:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
The Extra Extra Ordinary Podcast
Also By Sarah Hualde
About the Author
Dedication
Shout Out to Leia Organa- She doesn't know where you get your delusions, laser brain.
Author’s Note:
Hello there, friend.
Thanks for picking up Burned, book 6 in the Paranormal Penny Mysteries Series. The Raven, and all the drama he brings with him, plagues Penny once again. So get ready to hold on tight.
On a side note, every one of Penny’s mysteries wraps up the major conflict. No cliff hangers there. However, Penny’s life is much more entangled and difficult to unknot. Starting with book one, Grounded, ensures you catch all the dips and dives in Penny’s paranormal life.
Whichever path you take, straight through from the beginning or jumping in for the ride, I’m thrilled to travel this adventure with you.
God Bless and Stay Cozy,
Sarah
1
“YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO this,” I pleaded. My eyes crossed as I stared at the gun barrel waving in my direction. The room smelled of sweat and sneakers. Not a smell I wanted to perfume my last breaths, but I had greater concerns.
“Come on, Penny!” My aggressor frowned with disappointment. “Don’t do this. Not to me.”
“Don’t do what?” I asked, buying time. I saw little else that I could do. Having a gun pointed at me wasn’t helping me problem solve. It was all I could do to stave off hyperventilation. The stink wasn’t helping.
“Enough with the therapy talk,” my opponent argued through heated tears. His hands flickered with what I hoped was a bout of second-guessing. “I thought you were on my side. You, of all people, have to understand.”
A penetrating boom rattled the air. The stench of gunpowder overpowered the previous funk. Smoke wafted toward me. My knees buckled, and I sank to the floor. Life didn’t exactly flash before my eyes. Only the sweet face of Titus Church steeled me against my present circumstance. If I died today, I’d never get to tell him how much he meant to me. Then again, it might be safer for him if I didn’t.
Over the last ten months, my tangles with near-death had escalated. From a fatal family scuffle in a gift shop to the intentional vehicular murder of a new friend, death was upping its game. In the last town, I barely escaped. My only out was to find a pivot point between the broken heart in front of me and the Raven smudged on his cheek.
The Raven tagged along, like my personal dust storm of doom wherever I went. This pesky bird, also known as the omen of death, kept me living a nomadic life. I never knew what drew him to me. I was nothing special. That didn’t faze him. His evil schemes sent someone to their afterlife twenty-four hours or less after he claimed them. Just to tease me, the Raven sprinkled song clues along my path. Those had led me to my current drama at the business end of a gun, begging for my life.
Only days before, my VW Bus and I sputtered to the edge of Billington. One of my discoveries about backroads travel was the lack of gas stations along the way. The bus delivered me to safety, puffing like an asthmatic cheerleader into the Big Bill’s Truck Stop. My cheeky black and white cat, Spades, lounged on my lap as I steered us into pump station twenty-one with a prayer of thanksgiving on my lips.
Truck stops were my favorite place to fill up. I could eat, shower, and pump gas all in one place. Plus, if the town wasn’t hospitable to overnight parking, I could trek back to the stop to sleep.
Godzilla, which I called my beast of a home slash car, was gassed up and cleaned just in time for a call from Titus, or T.C., as his paranormal podcast listeners knew him.
“Hey there,” I said, feeling chipper after my deliverance from near-strandedness.
“Well, well,” Titus chimed, echoing my good mood. “You sound cheerful today.”
“I feel it,” I responded.
I set my phone on the pull-down dining table and switched the call from voice to video. Titus’s bespectacled face beamed from his side of the screen.
“You look it, too,” Titus complimented me with a blush as our eyes met.
“Thanks,” I responded before explaining the skin of my teeth arrival in Billington. We chatted about nothing in particular as I drank a massive cup of ginger ale, and Titus sipped from his mug. His nose crinkled as the string from his teabag attacked him. The date-like call made me giddy, even if the feeling was one-sided.
“Didn’t you have pink hair the last time we met face to face?” Titus referred to my fading hair color.
“Yes,” I answered. “It’s changed quite a bit since then.” My dark roots with pinkish tips teased my clumsy self-awareness. “It’s a mess, now.”
“Not from my side of the screen.” His glasses steamed as he took another drink.
Until my funky hairstyles, Titus lived in a world of black, white, and gray. Born without the ability to see the spectrum, Titus went through multiple tests and procedures to cure his condition. Yet, my hair unlocked the rainbow for him. We hadn’t figured out if it was my supernatural talent that made color possible for Titus. Was the omen of death that followed me the reason? Perhaps the cones of his eyes were healing at long last, or maybe it was the plethora of products I used to spice up my locks. Either way, it was nice to offer something happy to my podcasting friend. It couldn’t balance out the Raven marking people for death, but it was a happy plus.
“Are you ready?” he asked, referring to my four p.m. appointment with Dinah Fischer, my last child advocate. After two years apart from the woman, her name brought shivers to my skin. I had to reassure myself that I was almost nineteen. There was nothing Dinah could do to hurt me now, except withholding the information I craved.
I puffed my cheeks and let out an exaggerated exhalation. “I doubt she’s changed.”
Titus’s smile resurfaced. He was a constant beacon of hope. “People do,” he stated.
“Usually not the horrific ones,” I murmured. “I hope she doesn’t discover who I am. If Dinah recognizes me, what should I do or say?”
Titus set down his mug and looked up to the left as if searching the heavens for advice. “You’re going to be asking her questions about you, your sister, and your past.”
“Yes, but if she sees me coming, she may run for it.” The hope of getting one step closer to my long-lost little sister propped up my courage but also my paranoia. I had more questions than answers.
Titus’s deep dimples surfaced. “You used an alias. Besides, you’re not as frightening as you may think.”
I felt a grin flicker on my face. “Maybe I should wear a warning label,” I joked. Titus frowned. It did not impress him. He hated when I talked down about myself.
I wasn’t entirely joking. Death liked to follow me from place to place, threatening anyone who crossed my path. That was my life. Typically, I drove into town, scored a job, made an acquaintance or friend, and BAM, the Raven landed, tagging someone close. Then, twenty-four hours later, death or disaster befell them.
The Raven enjoyed dangling musical hints around the victim. When followed correctly, I could stop a tragedy. Too often, I mangled the interpretation and arrived on the scene a minute too late to be helpful. It was risky either way. I never could tell if my involvement created more victims or saved the innocent. All I knew was that where the Raven went, death followed, and the Raven was never far from my side. Titus stuck by me and strove to help me figure out the Raven and his plots, even if it proved hazardous to his health.
In the last town, I discovered that Dinah was an informant for a private investigator. One that was hired to tail me. I wanted to learn what other information Di
Titus waited for my attention to return to him. He didn’t reprimand or console me. His gorgeous chocolate eyes locked with mine. He paused as I recalibrated.
“I’m okay,” I said and was shocked when I half believed it. “I’m just nervous.”
“That makes sense,” Titus said. “How far are you from town?” He checked his wristwatch.
“A few minutes, I think.” Acid sloshed in my stomach. I so didn’t want to do this alone. Yet, I’d rejected Titus’s offer to drive over and go in person with me to see my advocate. Miss Fischer might hold secrets about my history, my sister, and whoever was searching for me. Though I didn’t want to face the woman on my own, I wanted time to digest whatever she told me before sharing it with anyone. Even Titus. “When I get to Dinah’s office, I’ll call you.”
“Okay,” Titus said. My stomach growled. A slight snicker escaped from Titus’s end. “Maybe eat something on the way?”
A blush shimmied up my neck. “That’s probably a good idea,” I said before signing off.
I squared my shoulders before taking to the wheel of Godzilla. It was time to face down another shard of my shattered past. This one would hurt straight from the get-go. But if I wanted to know who had put Pierce, the PI, on my trail, I had to dive into the riptide and hold on tight. Thank heaven I wouldn’t be alone. Not totally. It was a delightful change.
2
“I HAVE A BAD FEELING about this,” I admitted to Spades as I pulled onto the booming main drive of Billington. I scratched my cat under his chin.
He snorted as if saying, “What’s new?”
Small boxy shops lined the sidewalk. Breaking through their mundane stucco was the odd, tall brick building. They overshadowed the street and blocked the harsh sun from their side of the road. I chose one such building and parked Godzilla beneath its protective shade. Spades would stay cool as I grabbed a snack and headed to Dinah’s office.
My chest tightened. Spades recognized my stress spike. He licked at my wrist. “You are the coolest cat ever,” I told him. “You know that, don’t you?” Spades meowed in response. “I’ll bring you a treat,” I promised before snatching my backpack from my couch and locking my cat in for the afternoon.
Pedestrians strolled along the sidewalk. They chatted with one another while ducking under canvas awnings and concrete overhangs. The sun beat down on the street, causing a steamy sheen to bounce from the road to the business windows. The front window of the small cafe was no exception. I squinted as I peered into the diner. There was a bounty to choose from, coffee and pastry to sandwiches and smoothies.
The overhead fan added a layer of frost atop my hot skin as I entered the shop. The feeling was nearly as delicious as the smell of fresh coffee and rising yeast. Maple and cinnamon added to the bouquet. My mouth watered. Making a healthy choice would be challenging.
Standing in the queue, I stared up at the chalkboard menu. “Protein and Peaches.” I read the menu to myself aloud.
Next to me, a male voice interrupted my narration. “You know,” it said, “talking to oneself can be a sign of acute anxiety.”
“Make sense,” I said, spinning to face the speaker behind me.
The smirk on my lips went full grin when a familiar face smiled back at me. I flung my arms around my foster brother, Mark.
He nestled his head atop mine. His black curly hair tickled my forehead. Mark patted my back, just like when we’d lived together. “It’s great to see you too,” he whispered.
Tears bubbled behind my eyes. “What are you doing here?” I asked, swiping them away.
“I’m guessing the same thing you’re doing. Getting a snack,” Mark answered. His dry humor reflected in his eyes.
“I am,” I said. “What else are you doing here?”
Mark gestured toward the line. I turned and stepped up a spot. “Protein and Peaches is a superb choice, by the way.”
A smoothie for a steamy day and the protein for a solemn situation sounded like a solid plan. Plus, I could always return after visiting Dinah for a sweet treat if I needed some comfort food. Which I most definitely would.
“Thanks,” I said. “Back to you. What are you doing in Billington?”
Mark’s shoulders pinched together. “I live here.”
“In Billington?” He nodded. “Only hours from Chapman?” Chapman was the town we’d lived in together two years ago. At eighteen, Mark bolted from our last foster home without a backward glance.
We both had friends in Chapman. Some were looking for Mark, hoping to reconnect. Was Mark intentionally avoiding people from his past? I dismissed the thought. He’d talked to me first. Mark could’ve exited the cafe, and I’d never known he was there. Instead, he made first contact.
“Yeah,” he said, with a smidgen of guilt. “I should visit. Would I sound like a complete jerk if I told you it was too soon to return?”
I smiled and shoulder-bumped him in the bicep. “Like I’m anyone to judge.”
It took me two years to return to Chapman. Of course, the Raven came with me. He flapped his fatal wings and marked people when I reconnected with them. The experience scarred my friends and loved ones, but most were still breathing. The memory made me more than a little anxious for Mark.
“I knew you’d get me,” Mark said. He motioned to the counter and the cashier, who was ready to take my order. “I’ll be over there.” Mark pointed to a table hosting a man in scrubs and another working at his laptop.
“I’ll be right over,” I said before placing my order.
From my peripherals, I watched Mark chat with his friends. The one in a uniform wiped down his corner of the table before dumping his trash and waving goodbye to the others. He gave a thumbs-up toward the table, to which the laptop man offered a casual nod.
Mark gathered his coffee. He circled the table as the laptop guy half-folded his device. Mark shrugged and took up residence at another table, just in time for the blender to crank, blending my smoothie. Once my frosty meal was in my mitts, I followed Mark over to the new table.
Using his foot, Mark pulled out a chair for me. “I guess Tim is working on something that needs one hundred percent of his focus.” He nodded toward laptop guy, who’d shifted and now faced the line, though he didn’t seem to be people watching. He appeared to be monitoring Mark. “I’m sorry. I wanted to introduce you to my friends.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I told Mark.
“It’s rude,” Mark argued.
I stabbed a boba straw through the lid of my cup. The pop attracted the attention of Tim. He shot a look at me over his glasses before adjusting his headphones.
Mark saw his friend and rolled his eyes. He sipped from his cup as if drowning his frustration. “So,” he said after wiping his mouth. “What brings you to Billington?”
My shoulders tightened. “I have an appointment,” I answered.
“Must be with Dinah,” Mark said.
“How did you....”
“You’re wearing your shoulders like they’re earrings. I’ve seen that look on you before.”
“You would remember that.” I took another drink. The Vitamin C charged up my tastebuds, and the blended ice cooled my racing nerves. Mark smirked as I felt myself relax. “At least hers isn’t the only familiar face I’ll get to see today. How long have you lived here?”
“Since you left Chapman,” Mark said. “I split the day after you did.”
“You didn’t go far.”
Mark sighed. His eyes trailed away from the present as he glared out the window. “I’m betting you’re here for the same reason I am,” he said. “She won’t tell you, you know. She has never told me where to find my sister.”
“I have to try.” I frowned. Mark had been in the same situation as I was. The system separated us from our younger siblings.
