To Tell a Tale (Season One)

Airianna looked at the blank canvas before her on her favorite easel. It has been two days since she painted last, and they have spent that time trying to find the woman in the painting. Even using the clue wasn’t helping.

“What if it’s a clue that doesn’t belong to the victim or her attacker? What if…” She turned to her painting still on the display easel.

Yesterday, Detectives Jackman and Smitty had gone over it with a fine-tooth comb—not literally, of course.

“Of course!” Airianna dropped the paintbrush she’d been spinning between her fingers like a drumstick and picked up her phone.

“Hello, sweet seer.”

Airianna smiled. She couldn’t help it; she loved the little names he called her. How she heard him was beyond her. Sometimes her hearing aids picked up his words, but only his, and not all the time. Only when he said sweet things to her or when they were making out.

She held the phone away from her and pressed the speaker button so he could hear her as she pulled up her text message page.

“Nash, I think we’ve been looking at the clue the wrong way.”

‘Is that so?’ His text message came through; she read it and smiled. She could tell she’d gotten his attention.

“Yeah. What if it isn’t an object that belongs to either of them but a symbol?”

‘I think you may have something there.’ He texted her.

“Yeah?” she asked, grinning.

‘Yeah. I’ll be there in ten.’ He hung up, and she sighed as she read his last text, then placed her phone on the table and turned to the blank canvas.

Airianna’s body vibrated, and she picked up her brush from the floor and then moved over to the canvas. She felt the dream take over. Her hand automatically dipped into the paint, and she started on a new painting.

~🔮~

“I thought it was strange for one of them to own a compass,” Smitty said as they drove toward Airianna’s house.

Nash nodded to his partner. “I knew Airianna believed it was a clue, but I couldn’t figure out why either person in the painting would own a compass. But I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

‘Again,’ he thought to himself.

They pulled into the driveway of the Williams house and headed up the porch to the front door. It opened on its own, and Mr. Williams blocked their entrance.

“Detectives,” the older man nodded to them.

“Airianna called…” Nash started to say.

Mr. Williams moved out of their way and motioned for them to enter. Nash stared at the older man as he passed him. There was something different about him, but Nash didn’t have the time to figure it out. He went straight back to Airianna’s art room.

When they entered the room, they found Airianna painting at an easel.

“Airianna?” Nash touched her shoulder.

She didn’t move. Nash had a feeling of what was going on. He moved closer and watched her as she painted the new dream.

“Is she dreaming?” Smitty whispered as he moved closer to his partner and the young seer.

“I think so.” Nash nodded.

The two detectives stood on either side of Airianna and watched as a seer’s dream came to life on the painting.

“She’s amazing,” Smitty whispered.

Nash smiled. “I know.”

Airianna came out of her dream and dropped her paintbrush when she saw the painting before her. She covered her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. She jumped and turned when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Nash,” she whispered when she saw the detective beside her.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She shook her head and turned back to the painting. She has painted this painting before. Why did she paint it again? She’d painted it when she was twelve… She turned to her right and nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Smitty!”

Smitty smiled at her. “Sorry I startled you.”

She took in a deep breath and turned back to Nash. “You could have told me he was here too,” she said, punching him in the arm.

Nash chuckled, pulled her against his chest, and gently kissed her lips. When he let her go, her cheeks were bright pink, and her heart was thundering in her chest. Remembering the painting, she shook herself—physically and mentally—and headed for the closet where she kept her old paintings.

“Is she okay?” Smitty asked Nash as they watched Airianna.

“I’m not sure. I think she’s looking for something.” Nash watched Airianna as she dug deeper and deeper into her closet.

Smitty studied the new painting. Something was familiar about it—as if he’d seen it before.

“Here it is!” Airianna screeched as she came out of the closet with another painting.

The two detectives stepped back and watched the young seer as she moved an easel next to the new painting. She placed the old painting inside it so the two identical paintings stood side by side.

“I knew I’d seen it before,” Smitty mumbled.

Nash looked at the two paintings. “They’re the same,” he observed.

“I painted this one when I was twelve.” Airianna touched the older painting.

“What does this mean?” Smitty asked, moving closer to the paintings.

“She didn’t hear you,” Nash told his partner when he saw the look on Airianna’s face. It was the look she got when she knew someone had said something but didn’t hear a word.

Smitty turned to Airianna and repeated his question.

Airianna looked at them, then at her paintings. “I have no clue.”

“Clue! That’s the answer!” Nash said, his brain working overtime.

Smitty looked at him as if he’d just lost it, and Airianna turned when she heard the vibrations of his voice.

“The clues.” Nash looked straight at Airianna so she could read his lips. “You said that your paintings must have clues painted into them you never noticed before.”

She nodded.

“Maybe whoever is giving you the visions wants you to see the clues in this painting, so they helped you paint it again.”

Airianna’s eyes opened wide, and she whipped back to her paintings.

Nash watched his partner give him an odd look, then look at the two paintings before them. Nash smiled and moved up behind Airianna so he could look at the new and old painting of the same scene.

“Look,” Smitty said, pointing to the surroundings of the two paintings. “This is the same area as her new dream, only a different time period….”

Nash saw the same thing his partner saw and tapped Airianna’s shoulder to get her attention. She looked up at him, and he repeated his partner’s words so she could understand them.

Airianna looked at the two paintings, then over at the one she’d painted two days ago, and sucked in a breath. The detectives were right. This painting took place in the same place as the new one, only years before…

She concentrated on the old painting and sucked in a breath when she found the clue.

“Here.” Airianna pointed to a silver compass on the ground among the rocks and dirt beside a large rock in the background.

“What could this mean?” Smitty asked, studying the compass that looked the same as the one in her new dream.

“I think it means it’s the same killer,” Airianna whispered.

“That makes sense.” Nash nodded.

Airianna looked up at Nash. She hadn’t heard his words but heard his voice and felt the vibration against her back. He was so close she could feel the heat coming off his body. He looked down at her with a smile and repeated his words. She nodded.

Smitty tapped her shoulder, and she turned to him.

“But what does the compass mean?”

Airianna shrugged, then froze. Compass…

“Shit,” Airianna grumbled as she sped out of the room.

Nash looked at his partner. That was the first he’s heard her say a foul word in their presence. Not even when he was abusing her had she used that language.

“Are you two coming?” Airianna asked as she ducked her head back into the room.

Nash and Smitty chuckled as they followed her out of the room and down the hall to the living room.

“Papa!” Airianna called out to her father.

“Everything okay?” Jeremy Williams asked as he came into the living room.

“Papa, I had a dream repeat,” Airianna told her father.

Jeremy’s skin turned a pasty white. Nash moved over to the man and helped him to a seat in the living room.

“No, you’re too young for that to happen,” Jeremy said, fumbling with his words.

“What does it mean?” Nash asked, studying the older man’s pale face.

Jeremy refused to look at his daughter. He didn’t want her to read his lips. “When a seer has a dream repeat, it means they’re going to die soon….”

“What the fuck you say!?” Nash lashed out, jumping to his feet.

“But she’s too young,” Jeremy said, his voice shaky.

“No one is too young to die,” Smitty grumbled.

Jeremy looked between the two detectives and shook his head. “The kind of death I speak of is one of old age. When a seer becomes an old woman, her dreams start repeating, and it’s time to lay her to rest.”

Nash paused and looked at Airianna. “How old is she?”

“My daughter is only twenty-two.”

Nash took in a deep, steadying breath. So, she’s not like a witch. She doesn’t look younger than she is.

“Is there anyone who could help you figure this out?” Smitty asked.

Mr. Williams looked at Smitty, his eyes drawn and his body heavy.

“Papa? What’s going on?” Airianna asked, apparently irritated that no one had looked at her so she could read their lips.

“Mother.” Mr. Williams jumped to his feet and ran to the kitchen.

Nash looked at Smitty, who shrugged.

Mr. Williams returned, a phone to his ear as he made a call.

“Mother, we have a problem,” he said into the phone.

Nash couldn’t hear what the woman on the other line was saying, but he could tell by the look on the man’s face that it wasn’t something he wanted to hear. With a heavy sigh, Mr. Williams pulled the phone from his ear, pressed the speaker button, then placed the phone on the coffee table.

“They are all here, mother. Say what you need to say, and don’t speak to my daughter directly.”

“Good Lord, son, people are going to think I’m the devil himself….”

“Mother,” Mr. Williams growled.

“Fine,” his mother grumbled. Then her voice became bright and cheery. “Hello, Detectives. I have been waiting to talk to you two. Which one of you is Detective Jackman?”

“I am, ma’am.”

“Oh, so polite. Would never have known you attacked my granddaughter….”

Nash growled. Were they ever going to get past that?

“And Detective Smitt, you are there as well?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good, good.” Mrs. Williams cleared her throat. “I am Viola Williams, the last Williams Seer.”

“What about Airianna?” Nash asked, confused.

Viola Williams snorted. “My granddaughter is her own Seer. My son saw to that the day my granddaughter was born. By forbidding me to see or speak to her.”

Nash looked up at Mr. Williams, confused as to why he wouldn’t let his mother see his daughter.

“You see, in our family, our bonds guide us. And the day my son met Britney—Airianna’s Mother—is the day he gave up his family rights. You see, Britney was a non-believer—like you were.”

Nash knew she spoke of him.

“And because he chose love over family, he could no longer be a part of the rituals. And when my granddaughter was born, he forbade us from seeing or speaking to her because he knew once we have, she will be drawn to the family life….”

“What is so bad about family life?” Smitty asked.

“Dear boy, you are not a seer, a witch, a psychic, or have any gifts. Am I correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then you do not know the bonds of a magic family. Anyway, please tell me what is going on with my granddaughter. I may not be allowed to speak to her personally, but I can speak to her through you two buffoons.”

Nash grumbled at the use of the word buffoon.

“Mother,” Mr. Williams warned.

Viola Williams snorted at her son. “Tell me, so I can help you.”

“She dreamed today, one that she has had in the past,” Nash informed the elder seer.

“I see.”

“Mother, Airianna is too young to die,” Mr. Williams said, his voice vibrating with worry.

Nash looked over at Airianna. She was watching the three of them and the phone. He could tell she was upset that no one was telling her what was happening, but she respected her father enough not to argue.

“She’s not going to die, Son. Now listen to me, and listen carefully,” she said, her voice surrounding Nash. “My granddaughter may not be a part of the family of seers. But she is my family, and I will not tolerate you smashing her hopes and dreams again. Do you understand me, Nash Jackman?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, I believe Airianna repeated a dream because it’s connected to the dream she had the other day. If you can find the connection, you will find the killer of the first painting, as well as the one of the recent one, because they’re one and the same.”

After she said her peace, the phone went dead.