Killing America's Sweetheart: A Natalie Miller Mystery (23 page)

I flinched and shut my eyes. I knew that there was little that could be done. My heart began beating so
hard; it felt like someone was pounding drums in my ears.

“Don’t hurt her!” Simon
yelled his voice raw with emotion. “You’re problem is with me, not her. You should be aiming that gun at me!”

“Yes, you’re right. My problems do rest with you, however I know the best way to hurt you is by hurti
ng someone you care about. To kill you would be too simple and easy. But to kill her, and watch you suffer…well, that’s much more fun,” Armando said with a sly smile.

I opened my eyes to see Armando pull
ing the trigger and an explosion of fire came out from the gun. As if time had stood still, I looked over at Simon who had somehow launched his body through the air and was headed right at me. I then looked back toward Armando and saw the small fire ball approaching with even greater intensity…and then total blackness.

CHAPTER
THIRTY

There were voice swir
ling around me with lots of activity and movement. I heard men shouting orders, the wail of sirens and bright lights. I opened my eyes to see a young EMT huddled over me, shining a light in my eyes.

“She’s coming to,” the fresh faced
paramedic running beside me said to someone else.

I tried to move my head to see who he was speaking to, but the pain was so sharp, I winced.

“Don’t move your head. You more than likely have a concussion, so please just remain still,” he said as he maneuvered the stretcher into the ambulance.

Concussion? How could I merely have a concussion? Armando had fired a shot right at me, I shouldn’t even be alive. Thoughts began running through my mind and then the image of Simon flying through the air.

“What happened? Where’s Simon!” I asked growing increasingly agitated, trying to sit up.

“Ma’am, please. We need to get you to the hospital for examination,”
said the young EMT, as he belted in my arms and put an oxygen mask over my face.

What could I do? This young man wasn’t going to tell me what I needed to know. Could I deal with the very real possibility that Simon was killed, taking a shot meant for me? Panic and pain rippled through me, as I shut my eyes tight and began saying silent prayers.

A Short time later the ambulance came to a stop and I was immediately jerked out and wheeled into the ER.

“Wha
t do we have?” I heard a soft feminine voice ask.

“Thirty
-two year old female, with possible head injury and shock symptoms,” said my young handler.

“Is she th
ird party we were waiting on?” asked the female voice.

“Yeah, this is the last of them,” he said.

The last of three? Did that mean Armando was here too? In the midst of the chaos I had forgotten about him. Where was he and what had happened to him? More importantly, where was Simon?

“Ms. Miller, I’m Dr.
O’Brian. Do you know where you are?” She asked raising her voice as I was being transferred onto a hospital gurney. There were two nurses, one attaching monitors and the other an IV line.

“The hospital,” I replied in a dry cracked voice.

“Good,” she said as she ran a light from eye to eye.

Instantly, I began to feel nervous with the activity happening around me. Each nurse worked in military like fashion, jumping from one task to the next.

“Please, can you tell me what happened to my friend?” I said in a pleading voice as my eyes darted around the room.

She paused, looked at a nurse beside her, who answered, “One is in surgery and the other was DOA.”

The air rushed out of me, and panic crossed my face.

“Oh my God,” I said in a whisper, not realizing my body was shaking.

There was a beeping noise that went off like an alarm.

“She’s going into shock,”
the doctor said, as the activity picked up once again.

“We’re just going to give you something to help you relax,” said a voice through the chaos.

I felt a cold breeze blow across me and then something very hot running through my veins. Within moments I felt nothing and as my eye lids began to droop, the room faded into darkness.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

“Open your eyes,” said the voice.

I felt my hand twitch and what I thought was grass. How did I get on grass? Wasn’t I in the hospital? The drugs they gave me must have been pretty powerful.

“Sugar, open your eyes,” said the warm and familiar voice.

My eyes flew open, and there sitting beside me was my handsome father looking healthy and vital. Gone were any traces of the cancer that robbed him from me.

“Dad?” I
said nearly choking on the name.

He smiled warmly and he gently caressed my face.

“I’m here baby girl, I’m always here.”

I sat up
and saw that we were in a beautiful place, where the colors were so vivid and everything looked peaceful and tranquil. I glanced to my left and saw a lovely still lake and to the right, a field of purple and yellow wild flowers.

“Where are we?” I asked with confusion.

“In your dream,” he said taking my hand and helping me to my feet.

I looked down and saw that gone were my street clothes and now I was wearing a light pink summer dress
and my feet were bare.

“What are we
doing here?” I asked in bewilderment as we began walking toward the edge of the lake.

“We felt you needed some guidance,” said another voice that was also familiar.

I glanced behind to see a smart looking middle aged man, dressed in a gray twill suit with short salt and pepper hair and wire rimmed glasses.

“Gilles?” I asked in disbelief.

He nodded and smiled.

My mind was spinning. Moments earlier I was in a hospital and now I was standing next to my dead father and spirit guide.

“No, you’re not hallucinating,” Gilles assured me. “It’s a lot to take in, we understand. Still, we felt it was easiest to reach you here so that you might be better able to understand what’s going on.”

“Are you real?” I said looking at each of them.

“Of course,” my dad said laughing.

“As real as we can be,” Gilles added.

“Are you okay,” I asked looking at my dad and reaching for his hand.

“I’m fine, Sugar and I’m right where I should be,” he said kissing my hand in return.

“And you’re here because I know you were losing your faith in me earlier. You were wondering why I hadn’t armed you with better information regarding the situation that happened over there,” Gilles said in his precise English accent.

“Yeah, you could say that,” I replied, clutching onto my father’s hand.

“No one really prepared you for the abilities you possess. Your mother, though she does have some powers, is limited to just you and Alex. Your Grandmother wasn’t around long enough to guide you either, and in a sense you’ve been out there on your own. Now that you are coming into greater abilities, I—err, we thought it was best that we give you a bit of a pep talk,” Gilles said clearing his throat.

“We want to assure you that you are not going crazy and that the new abilities you’ve been experiencing are normal,” my father said.

I raised an eye brow at the word ‘normal’ and he sighed.

“Well, normal for someone like you,” Gilles added.

“So, the dreams and talking with the dead, is now my new normal?” I asked.

“Yes,” Gilles said with a smile.

“They’re going to get more developed too,” my father added.

“How so?” I aske
d, beginning to feel anxious at the mere thought of more unusual abilities developing.

“You’re going to be able to speak to the dead without being in a dream state, and the precognitive dreams will become more frequent,” Gilles elaborated.

“But, why?” I asked not completely understanding what was being said to me.

“Because it’s
time. You are about to embark on a crucial phase in your life. This new chapter you have decided to venture into will prove to be very successful, and you will be able to help many people find closure and sometimes happiness,” Gilles continued.

“You’re finally doing
what you were meant to be,” Dad said.

I was about to respond, whe
n I heard far away voices talking. Gilles and my dad shot each other glances.

“We don’t have much time left,” Dad said squeezing my hand.

“Your father and I just wanted you to know that things are happening as they should, even if you don’t see it that way. Also, there are limits to how much we can tell you, especially when it comes to your own life. We can give you great details when it comes to strangers, but those closest to you or that you care about, well…there are rules about giving out too much information,” Gilles said looking apologetic.

“Because if I know, then I might try to change the outcome?” I asked, beginning to understand the gravity of the situation.

“Exactly,” Gilles replied proudly. “You would fight tooth and nail to over haul someone you love’s destiny, which is why we are not allowed to share that sort of information with you. There is a natural order and balance that needs to be maintained and if you were to alter one incident, no matter how minor, well it would have a domino effect on everyone around you.”

I nodded my head in understanding.

“You need to be going Sugar,” Dad said as the voices in the distance grew louder.

“But,” I said trailing off. I didn’t want to leave yet. I wanted to spend time with my dad. To talk with him, to hold his large warm hand in mine and feel safe for the first time in nearly a decade. How could they tease me in such a cruel manner?

“I’m always with you,” he said. “I’ve seen everything you’ve done, and I’m so proud of how far you’ve come,” he said with tears in his eyes.

“What are you proud of? My downward
spiral? My numerous amount of failures?” I asked shaking my head.

“No. I am proud of your recovery and how each time someone or something knocks you
down; you get back up and keep moving. That’s what makes me proud of you. You never stop trying,” Dad replied as he walked me toward the field of flowers.

“You are not a failure Natalie,” Gilles added. “You are the strongest individual I have eve
r had the pleasure of guiding, quite possibly the most powerful too. Now, you need to go.”

I took one step forward and stopped to turn and face my father and guide.

“Will I see you again?” I asked them both.

They didn’t answer, only noddi
ng as an answer to my question.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

When I finally came to after
my brief little excursion, I was greeted by a very worried face, mom.

“Oh, Thank God, you’re waking up. I was afraid you weren’t going to with that concussion,” she said placing a light kiss on my forehead.

“I guess I started freaking out and they gave me something,” I replied hoarsely.

“I didn’t think they were supposed to give you anything like that when you had a concussion. But, what do I know? I’m only a mother,” she said with bitterness in her voice.

“I’m okay Mom,” I said. This was true for the most part, seeing as though I hadn’t been shot.

“Did they say how my head was injured?”

“You don’t remember?” Mom asked looking perplexed.

“No.
Everything happened so fast. I remember Simon flying through the air and the gun went off and I saw the flash from the bullet and then nothing.”

Just trying to recall the events made my head pound even harder.

“Apparently Simon Bellamy knocked you out of the way and you hit your head on the corner of the desk. That’s how you got a concussion. It could have been so much worse,” she said in a grave tone.

Simon
.

“What happened to Simon?”  I asked with fear boiling in my stomach.

Before she was able to answer, there was a knock on the door. Moments later it opened and Zack walked in.

“Ah, I’ll give you two a minute to talk,” mom said as she gathered herself up and exited the room.

Zack moved slowly to the empty chair beside my bed. He looked older, as if he had aged five years in the past few days.

“You really scared the shit out of me,” he said quietly.

“Well, you know when I fuck up, I do it royally,” I said with a
light laugh.

We were both quiet for a few moments.

“Alex called the police when you hung up on him,” he said.

So, that’s how the rescue squad found us.

“He informed dispatch that you were in trouble and it was probably Bellamy’s stalker Estrada. Little did we know it was actually Debbie. Anyhow, I got the call and was one of the first to arrive. We entered the office to find you unconscious on the floor and Simon right next to you. Estrada was standing next to the window banging his head against it and crying. He kept yelling “I killed him!” over and over again. He still had the gun and aimed it at us, that’s when one of the rookie officers took a shot and killed him.”