Murders & Romance: A Psychic Detective Romantic Mystery (Isaac Taylor Mysteries Book 5) by Lashell Collins (ready player one ebook .TXT) 📗

worksheets she’d printed off and met with Beth’s daughter, Kylee, at the kitchen table. Beth sat nearby, quietly watching while Sidney talked Kylee through the sample math questions and then encouraged the girl to work on the others on her own.

The look of sheer joy on Kylee’s face when Sidney gave her a good score on the completed worksheets was priceless. She actually wasn’t certain who was prouder — Kylee or her mother.

When they were finishing up, Ann came into the kitchen.

“Thanks for all your help, Miss Sidney.”

“You are so welcome, Kylee. We’ll work on word problems tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Thank you, Sidney.” Beth took Kylee’s hand and ushered her out of the kitchen.

“It was my pleasure.”

“Sidney?”

She looked up at Ann, who stared at her intently, wringing her hands and working her bottom lip.

“What is it, Ann?”

Ann pulled out a chair and sat beside her at the table.

“I’m so sorry, Sidney. For the mean bruise and the cut on your face.”

Sidney waved a dismissive hand.

“It’s all right, Ann. None of what happened last night was your fault. Not a single part of it. Okay?”

Ann nodded and looked down at the table. Then she glanced around, as if making sure no one was around to hear them before she looked Sidney in the eyes.

“I heard… um.”

“It’s okay. What’d you hear?”

The woman ran a hand through her lifeless blonde hair and licked her lips before trying again.

“I heard that you got away from your abuser. That you disappeared or something… went underground and fled across the country? Is that true?”

Sidney wasn’t sure how Ann came across that information, but it wasn’t a big deal. She’d shared her story with Zoe and with other residents freely.

“Yes, that’s true.”

The air in the small kitchen grew thick, and Ann glanced around again.

“Could you…” She paused and quietly cleared her throat. “Could you help me and my kids disappear? Like you did? Could you help us get away from Donald?”

The hairs on Sidney’s arms stood at attention like soldiers.

She shivered from the goosebumps.

Sidney stared at her, not knowing how to respond.

Helping other battered women get away from their abusers was the growing passion in her heart, wasn’t it?

“Let me give it some thought. I’ll get back to you in a day or two.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“If I agree to this, Ann, there are some things you would have to agree to. Some rules. Otherwise, helping you will be pointless.”

“I’ll do anything. Whatever you say. Just please help me! Help me get my babies away from him, Sidney. He is dangerous. He will kill me someday if we don’t get away from him.”

“Okay, okay.”

She grabbed the woman’s hand to calm her down, and stared into her eyes. What she saw there was terror.

A terror Sidney knew only too well.

“The first step is money. Do you have any stashed away? Any you can get your hands on? A joint bank account, or some you can borrow from a relative or a friend?”

“I have a few hundred dollars hidden in my room upstairs.”

“You’re going to need more than that. A lot more.”

“I-I can get more. I’ll pay you whatever you want!”

Sidney shook her head.

“The money’s not to pay me, Ann. You’re going to need money to get away. Gather as much as you can.”

Ann nodded. “Okay. I can get more. I can borrow some from my friend, Sheila.”

“All right. We’ll talk again soon.”

Ann squeezed her hand tight.

“Thank you, Sidney. Thank you so much!”

She got up and rushed from the kitchen, and Sidney took a deep breath.

What had she just agreed to?

She walked back to her desk in a preoccupied fog, thoughts and ideas forming and twisting in her mind. Sitting down at her desk, she pulled out a legal pad and began making notes — a list of rules that Ann, or any other resident who might ask in the future, would have to agree to if Sidney were to do this. They were tactics she had used herself. Ideas she had given a lot of thought to while she was lying in that lonely hospital bed Damien had put her in.

She also made a list of things Ann would need to succeed if she tried this. Things like fake IDs and papers — birth certificates, and such — for her and her kids. She tapped her pen against the pad and wondered where in the world she would get those things.

Before she’d run, it was fairly easy. She’d known exactly where to go. But here in Cleveland she had no clue. And she couldn’t ask Isaac.

Could she?

The possibilities swirled around in Sidney’s mind all day long. She thought of almost nothing else, functioning on auto-pilot throughout paperwork and the normal day-to-day tasks of helping to run the shelter.

She carried on conversations with Zoe, all while having a silent-running dialogue with herself, ticking away in her head. Going over the ins and outs of putting together a foolproof secret plan of action to help other battered women slip away like ghosts and free them from their abusers.

Was she crazy?

Was this an absolutely insane thing to get herself into?

Could she really pull it off?

She worried that she was casting herself as some sort of modern day Harriet Tubman — someone who’d been abused and oppressed and who’d broken free, now on a mission to help others do the same. But really… wasn’t that her duty?

If she knew the way to freedom, shouldn’t she feel obligated to lead others?

It was a question that plagued her all the way home that evening. On the one hand, the prospect of helping others in this manner excited and invigorated her. On the other, it was a scary thing to consider. So many things could go wrong. There were so many moving parts to think about.

She sighed when she pulled her car into the short driveway.

Yep. This was crazy.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that it was past dinnertime. And that thought reminded her that Ike was taking care of dinner tonight since he’d gotten home before her.

She was fumbling