Lunatic Revenge

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The bad guys are after a hidden fortune that belongs to Flynn O’Mara’s dying father—they think Tara can use her psychic powers to find it for them. She’ll need plenty of help from her spirit friends if she and Flynn are going to get out of this trouble alive.

Look out! Tara screamed, as the sports car spun toward them.

The car hit them twice—first on the driver’s side fender, then as Flynn’s car started to spin, again on the back bumper.

Hold on! Flynn yelled, as their car flipped once, then went airborne, over the guard rail, and into Boomer Lake.

Tara came to as the car was sinking nose first into the water and quickly unbuckled her seat belt. If they were going to survive, they would have to get themselves out.

Flynn! Unbuckle your seatbelt. I’m going to roll down the windows so we can swim out.

Then she saw Flynn, unconscious and slumped over the steering wheel. Frantically, she unbuckled his belt and tried to pull him toward her, but the steering wheel was too tight against his chest.

I can’t breathe, he groaned. Help me, Tara, help me.

Tara began screaming at Flynn, begging him to move as the water rushed up to their chests—then their necks. She was holding Flynn’s face out of the water, pushing him as far up as she could until their heads were touching the roof of the car. She couldn’t believe this was happening. It was just like her dream. They were going to die. Where was her backup when she needed them?

Millicent! Henry! Uncle Pat! Someone! Anyone! Help! Help!

Seconds later, the water was over their heads.

Lunatic Revenge

Book three of the Lunatic Life Series

by

Sharon Sala

Bell Bridge Books

Copyright

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events or locations is entirely coincidental.

Bell Bridge Books

PO BOX 300921

Memphis, TN 38130

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61194-190-6

Print ISBN: 978-1-61194-179-1

Bell Bridge Books is an Imprint of BelleBooks, Inc.

Copyright © 2012 by Sharon Sala

My Lunatic Life (excerpt) Copyright © 2010 by Sharon Sala

The Lunatic Detective (excerpt) Copyright © 2011 by Sharon Sala

Printed and bound in the United States of America.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

We at BelleBooks enjoy hearing from readers.

Visit our websites – www.BelleBooks.com and www.BellBridgeBooks.com.

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Cover design: Debra Dixon

Interior design: Hank Smith

Photo credits:

Cover Art © Christine Griffin

Girl (manipulated) © Robert Clay | Dreamstime.com

Tornado and road © Victor Zastol`skiy | Dreamstime.com

:Erl:01:

Also By Sharon Sala From Bell Bridge Books:

My Lunatic Life

The Lunatic Detective

and

The Boarding House

Chapter One

I can’t breathe. Help me, Tara, help me.

More water was coming into the car now, creeping up their waists, to their chests, then their necks. Tara was holding up Flynn’s head, but it wasn’t the water that was restricting his breath, it was the broken rib that had punctured one of his lungs.

Tara couldn’t believe this was happening, and that she was going to die before she had a chance to grow up.

Where was her backup when she needed them?

Millicent! Henry! Uncle Pat! Someone! Anyone! Help! Help!

Seconds later, the water was over their heads.

The alarm went off.

Tara woke with jerk and then flew out of bed before she realized where she was. She took a deep breath, still locked into the dream that she and Flynn had been drowning.

OMG, that was seriously wack.

She sank back onto the side of the bed, and didn’t realize until she turned off the alarm that it was raining. That explained the water dream, but not why she had seen her and her boyfriend in danger.

For most people, assuming a dream had real meaning would have been silly, but Tara wasn’t like everyone else. Not only did she see ghosts, but she was psychic, too. It made every day of her life a challenge. What bothered her now was that for some time she’d felt something dark hanging around Flynn. She just couldn’t get a handle on whether it was a dark spirit, or a living, breathing baddy?

She’d talked to Millicent and Henry, the two ghosts who lived with her and her Uncle Pat, but for whatever reason they’d been mum. Either that meant she was on the wrong track, or they weren’t supposed to tell. There were rules where they came from about what they could and couldn’t reveal—stuff that Tara didn’t fully understand.

So it was raining, which meant the walk to school would suck eggs. Still in a bad mood from the dream, Tara made a quick trip to the bathroom and then headed for the kitchen to start the coffee for her uncle. With this weather, his day was going to be miserable too, reading meters for the City of Stillwater.

She could hear voices as she headed down the hall and, when she reached the living room, realized the television was on. Uncle Pat must already be up, only when she got to the kitchen, it was empty. She backtracked into the living room, and this time noticed his feet propped up on the end of the sofa. He’d fallen asleep watching TV again.

Smiling, she leaned over to wake him and immediately smelled the liquor on his breath, then saw the empty bottle on the floor beside him. Her heart dropped. Not again. He’d been down in the dumps ever since he’d stopped going out with Flynn’s mom, Mona, and this was always his cure-all when things didn’t go as planned. It used to scare her, finding him in this condition, but not any longer. She’d made up her mind months ago that they weren’t quitting and moving ever again, no matter how many jobs he got fired from. She yanked the pillow out from under his head, and the remote out of his hands.

Uncle Pat. Wake up. You’re going to be late for work.

Pat Carmichael groaned then blinked as the television went dead.

"Huh . . . what . . . I uh . . ."

Wake up! You’re going to be late for work, she said, and took the empty bottle into the kitchen and dumped it into the trash.

She was making coffee when he stumbled into the kitchen.

Hey, honey, this rain is really coming down and I’m not feeling so good. I think I’ll call in sick and you can take the car to school, okay?

Tara’s heart sank. No, Uncle Pat, it’s not okay. I’m not taking the car, because you’ve got thirty-three minutes to be out of his house or you’re gonna be late for work.

Pat frowned. Tara had never challenged him like this before.

Listen here, you don’t—

Tara’s hands began to shake. No, you listen. If you lose this job and decide you’re going to quit on this city and move again, you’ll be leaving without me. I’m done, Uncle Pat. I have less than a year to graduate high school and I’m never changing schools again. Thanks to the reward money I got for finding Bethany Fanning when she got kidnapped, I have money to go to college and I’m staying here to do it. Are you going to stay with me, or am I going to be part of the past you’re still trying to outrun?

Pat was blindsided, and at the same time, ashamed. He put his arms around his niece and hugged her.

I will never leave you behind, and I’m sorry I scared you, he said, and kissed the top of her head. I’m going to clean up. Make the coffee strong.

Tara blinked back tears as she poured the water into the coffee maker and turned it on.

That’s been a long time coming, but I’m proud of you.

Tara sighed. The whisper in her ear was from the only motherly figure she’d ever known. Millicent was a spirit who never bothered to show herself beyond a puff of pink smoke, but she was always Tara’s backup.

Henry popped in beside Tara and gave her a ghostly hug before ricocheting off the ceiling and rattling the back door, just to let her know he thought she rocked the house.

It was enough to lighten Tara’s mood, and by the time she finished her cereal, Pat was downing his second cup of coffee and heading out the door with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to eat on the way to work.

Have a good day honey, and I love you.

You, too, Uncle Pat and I love you, too.

Just like that, the fuss was over. Tara was about to get dressed for school when the phone rang.

Hello?

Hey, girlfriend, wanna ride to school today or are you breaking out the ark?

Tara laughed. BFFs were the best, especially BFFs like Nikki Scott. You are too funny, and I would love a ride to school.

I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.

Fifteen? Yikes.

Nikki laughed. Sorry. I have to drop my sisters off at the gym for early basketball practice, so it’s now or never.

Now, and I promise I won’t keep you waiting.

Great. See you in a few, Nikki said.

Tara hung up, rinsed her cereal bowl and left it in the sink as she ran to get dressed. Ten minutes later she was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, eyeing her jeans and her orange Oklahoma State University sweatshirt. She smiled at her reflection. OSU rocked.

Because of the weather, she pulled her hair back in a ponytail, which then left her with nothing to hide behind. That used to be a big deal, but not so much anymore. The older Tara got, the more comfortable she was in her own skin. Still, if she squinted just a little and turned her head to the left, she thought she looked a little bit like Angelina Jolie, who was her all-time favorite movie star. But not because Angelina was beautiful—because she adopted children no one else wanted.

A quick slash of lip gloss and she was good to go. When Nikki drove up a couple of minutes later, Tara was standing on the porch with her raincoat on, the hood pulled up over her head, and her book bag on her shoulder.

Kiss kiss.

Tara stifled a grin. Millicent was definitely in mother mode this morning, giving her a kiss goodbye.

As if you ever stay behind, Tara muttered, and made a mad dash into the downpour to Nikki’s SUV. "OMG . . . the rain is cold," she said, as she quickly shut the door behind her.

Nikki’s two younger sisters were in the back seat, giving her the once-over. They knew from Nikki that Tara was psychic and were suitably impressed.

Hi Tara, they said in unison.

Tara glanced over her shoulder and smiled at them as Nikki drove off. They looked like different versions of Nikki, all with long dark hair, almond shaped eyes, and that beautiful skin, compliments of a mother who was part Native American.

Hi, you guys. So you have early practice, hunh?

Rachelle nodded and Morgan rolled her eyes.

Tara laughed. Better you than me. I can’t walk and chew gum at the same time, let alone dribble a ball and run.

I wish I was as tall as you and Rachelle are, Morgan said. I’d be the star on the team.

You guys aren’t through growing. Give it some time, Tara said.

Morgan rolled her eyes. I’m not holding my breath. Look at Nikki. She’s the oldest and she barely made it past five feet.

Nikki frowned. Her height was a sore spot with her, especially because her younger sister, Rachelle, was already five feet, nine inches tall and still growing. I’m almost five feet, four inches, thank you very much.

Which means you’re only five feet, three inches, Rachelle said, and then giggled.

Tara couldn’t stop smiling. She didn’t have siblings, and this family banter was endearing to her, although she could tell from the look on Nikki’s face that she wasn’t nearly as impressed with her sisterly duties.

After they dropped the girls off at the gym, they headed back across town to Stillwater High, talking about boys and school as they went.

So, are you and Flynn getting serious? Nikki asked.

Tara shrugged. I don’t know. We don’t talk about serious. We’re just having a good time together.

Nikki nodded. That’s smart. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us, right?

Tara thought about college. You said you were going to OSU. What are you going to study?

Haven’t decided yet, have you?

In my last life, I never learned to read.

Tara blinked. She should have known Millicent wouldn’t stay absent for long, especially when they were talking about boys. Millicent did love the opposite sex.

No, not yet, Tara said.

You could read palms. You’d be good at that.

Tara stifled a snort, which Millicent detected.

It was only a suggestion. Oh look! Hunk alert at three o’clock! Oops! He’s in trouble.

Tara glanced out the window and to her horror saw some stranger had Flynn backed against the wall of a building. From the looks on their faces, they were close to coming to blows. Within seconds, she was nauseous from the dark energy and knew this was connected to the trouble she’d been sensing.

Nikki. There’s Flynn. Pull over, quick.

Nikki turned off the street into the parking lot of the quick stop, as horrified as Tara had been by what was happening to Flynn.

What do we do? Nikki asked.

Honk the horn! Tara said.

Nikki gave the horn three sharp blasts.

The stranger turned, obviously startled by their arrival and darted off into the alley between the buildings.

Nikki honked again and motioned for him to get in.

Flynn didn’t hesitate as he ran through the rain and got into the back seat the Scott sisters had just vacated.

The darkness came with Flynn, leaving Tara struggling not to throw up her cereal as Nikki took off out of the parking lot.

What was that all about? Tara asked.

The hood of the poncho Flynn was wearing had slipped off when he ran, soaking his face and hair to the point that he appeared to be crying. He swiped angrily at his face and ignored her question.

It has something to do with his father, and oh my, he smells good. I remember men’s cologne. Once upon a time I—

Tara frowned. Oh for Pete’s sake, Millicent. Not now.

She heard a huff and then a pop. She’d ticked Millicent off, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be back. However, this thing with Flynn and the bad guy at the station was beginning to make sense. Flynn’s father had cancer and was dying—but he was also in prison. Was the bad stuff she’d been sensing for so long actually connected to Flynn, or to his father . . . or maybe both?

She twisted in the seat until she was facing Flynn, only to find he wouldn’t look at her.

Are you alright? she asked.

His hands were knotted into fists. I’m fine, he muttered. Thanks for the ride. The rain sucks.

Tara, being Tara, persisted. Who was that man? Was he trying to rob you or something?

Let it go, Moon Girl. It has nothing to do with you.

And just like that, Tara’s feelings were hurt. She glanced at Nikki, who shrugged and made a sad face in sympathy for the way Flynn had dissed her.

They were silent the rest of the way to school. No sooner had Nikki parked than Flynn was out of the car.

Thanks again for the ride. See you later, he mumbled, and made a run for the door without waiting to walk Tara in like he usually did.

Tara’s heart hurt, but the really awful part was that the moment Flynn left the car, the sick feeling went with him. OMG. Was it possible for a girl to become allergic to her boyfriend?

Maybe it embarrassed or just scared him and he didn’t know what to say, Nikki said.

Tara shrugged. Her feelings were hurt and she wanted to cry, but not in front of Nikki. Maybe, but you were a sweetheart to stop like that and pick him up. I didn’t think that I might be involving you in something bad.

Nikki threw a hand up in the air, as if dismissing the incident. Pfft, I gave two of my friends a ride to school this morning. Nothing bad about that.

Tara sighed. Well, it was a lot to me, and I really appreciate it.

Nikki smiled. I’ll see you at lunch. In the meantime, don’t let the enemy see you sweat.

Tara laughed. Nikki Scott was good for her soul.

You got it, girlfriend.

Nikki high-fived her. "Now that’s what