"I know who you are. Now come out peacefully, or we're coming in!" the detective shouted again, only this time they got a response.

"We're in here! Help! They have another door! Hurry!" the kid screamed. The next second, all Sophie could hear was the sound of the metal door being kicked open, bodies slapping against one another, and a sorrowful "Oh, s.h.i.t," probably from the kidnapping pervert. Detective O'Banyon raced up the stairs, followed by two officers, each carrying one of the missing kids.

The kids were placed in a patrol car, and Detective O'Banyon spoke into her cell phone. No more than five minutes pa.s.sed before she walked over to where Sophie stood.

Running a hand through her thick auburn hair, the woman, not the cop, spoke. "Thank you. And I am so d.a.m.ned sorry I doubted your abilities. These kids have you to thank for saving their lives. I've called the parents. They're waiting down at the station. When I told them how-or, rather, who helped to locate the kids, she insisted on thanking you personally. I told her I would relay the message, but it's really up to you. If you'd rather not meet them, I'll have one of the officers drive you home."

Sophie gushed with pride. "Are you out of your mind? No way do I want to go home! I want to see those kids and their parents. I want to make d.a.m.n sure this has a happy ending." Speaking of happy endings, she needed to call Goebel and Toots. "Mind if I use your cell?"

The detective handed it to her. "It's all yours."

Sophie made fast work out of calling Goebel, who relayed the message to Toots, who then told the others that the kids were safe. Then they all decided they would go down to the station to meet the family and give Sophie a ride home. "And don't forget to bring the little girl's bunny and that game. I left them in Toots's room," Sophie added before hanging up.

Car doors slammed, and tires squealed, as the other officers left the scene. Sophie wanted to see the sick son of a b.i.t.c.h who had taken the kids. "Is he still in there?" she asked, indicating the bas.e.m.e.nt apartment below.

"Yes, and I need to go. You wanna come with me?"

Sophie couldn't believe her ears. Detective O'Banyon was actually inviting her to sit in on an interrogation.

"We wouldn't be here now if you hadn't led us to the kids. Again, I'm sorry I was so rude earlier. I was in a similar situation once. A psychic swore he knew where a missing young girl was. He said all I had to do was listen. I did, and the girl was found murdered two days later. It wasn't a happy ending. That's why I'm such a skeptic. But you are the real deal. Again, I am so sorry for doubting you. You saved those kids' lives."

"Enough, already. Apology accepted. Truthfully, most people feel the way you do, especially in this kind of instance, when it's a life-or-death issue." Sophie suddenly realized she was crying. Tears as fat as raindrops fell from her eyes. Relief, these were plainly tears of relief. She hadn't been 100 percent sure about this newfangled talent, and now it hit her. If she'd been wrong, those two kids would have died. She offered up a quick prayer, thankful the kids were safe, and more thankful than ever for the gift that had been bestowed upon her.

"Come on. Just stay in the corner and be quiet. If this is what I think it is, then you've brought down one of the largest child-p.o.r.nography rings in the state."

"Really?" Sophie said, stunned. She hadn't given the first thought to anything more than finding the kids. Why were they taken? Well, that hadn't entered the picture at all. And she knew she wasn't supposed to know the "whys" of everything. What she knew had to be enough.

Downstairs, the smell of urine nearly took Sophie's breath away. Odors that she didn't want to put a name to a.s.saulted her senses. Once again, she resisted the urge to upchuck. It wouldn't have mattered down there, she thought. h.e.l.l, it might actually have been better than what she was smelling.

Careful not to touch anything, Sophie stood close to the door while Detective O'Banyon and two other plainclothes detectives talked among themselves before turning to the old man.

"I got my rights, and I ain't sayin' a G.o.dd.a.m.n word until I get me a lawyer. I know my rights, by G.o.d!" he declared.

Sophie could smell his sour breath across the room, because the entire apartment wasn't much larger than a small bedroom.

"Yeah, you've got rights, Clyde. And if you're smart, you'll tell me where the kids were to be taken. And who ordered this, Clyde? If you don't spill, I can sit here all night long. I've got all the time in the world. But you might want to think about delaying this any longer than you have to. Whoever you're working for will leave town the minute you make that call. It's completely up to you." The detective crossed her arms over her chest and walked around the filthy apartment like she was perusing a model home.

"How'd you know my name?" the sour-smelling old man asked.

"Clyde Baines. Everyone in law enforcement knows your name. You've got a rap sheet as long as the Edisto River. Lewd and lascivious. Possession. The list of felonies goes on and on, old pal. You can either spit out the name of the person who was to receive those kids, or we can sit here in this nasty f.u.c.king s.h.i.t hole all night. What do ya say, old man?"

Detective O'Banyon is not playing nice with this perp, Sophie thought, and she shouldn't. Sick old b.a.s.t.a.r.d kidnapping kids right in broad daylight.

"Where you plan on takin' me?" he asked. " 'Cause I got rights, and I know what they are."

"So you keep reminding me. Look, Clyde, let's just cut through the bulls.h.i.t. It doesn't matter where I take you now. You're still going to end up spending the rest of your life in a nice, clean prison with the big boys. I hear they don't take too well to pedophiles, that sort of thing-unless they're into that, too-but most of the sick b.a.s.t.a.r.ds are placed in a cell all by their lonesome, so some big, bad murderer doesn't slice their useless a.s.s to ribbons." The detective walked away from the sc.u.mbag and gave Sophie a big grin.

"So, what's it gonna be, Clyde, my man? Him or you? I've decided I don't have all the time in the world, you worthless f.u.c.k. I am giving you exactly thirty seconds to spill that name."

Detective O'Banyon began to count out loud. "One, two, three . . ."

When she reached twenty-nine, the old man spoke up. "Okay, G.o.dd.a.m.n it, but I want a smoke first."

"Clyde, you're really not in any position to negotiate." She turned to the officer at the door. "Get him a cigarette, will you, Harry?"

Sophie whipped a package of Marlboros out of her pocket, lit up, and watched the old man stare at her. "I'll die before I share my smokes with you, you dirty old pervert!" said Sophie.

Detective O'Banyon laughed. "See, Clyde? People don't like you. Now, are you gonna give me a name or am I gonna have to rough you up a bit?"

Sophie wasn't sure she'd heard correctly and didn't care. This was better than TV. This was the real deal. With a new respect for Detective O'Banyon, she took a long drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke in Clyde Baines's direction.

The taller of the two plainclothes officers returned from wherever he had gone and stuck a lit cigarette between Clyde Baines's smelly lips. Baines took a long drag, making the end of the cigarette glow like a fireball. Sophie watched as he fumbled with the smoke. With his arms handcuffed behind him, she could see what a difficult time he was having. He took another long puff and pushed the cigarette out of his mouth with his tongue, being careful to lean forward when he did so that the cigarette wouldn't land on his pant leg.

Detective O'Banyon stomped on the cigarette. "Okay, Clyde. My patience is almost gone. You got your smoke. Now it's your turn to give up that name."

The old man smiled at the detective. "You still ain't told me where you're gonna take me. That's part of the deal."

Sophie knew the detective had reached her boiling point when she leaned eyeball-to-eyeball with Baines and said, "Okay, you smelly f.u.c.k, your chance is gone."

She walked away, then quickly turned around. Before Sophie knew what was happening, the detective hauled off and slapped Clyde Baines squarely in the face.

He sputtered, "You f.u.c.kin' b.i.t.c.h! I'll have your a.s.s for police brutality!"

"And who do you suppose will believe you? The chief? I don't think so. The state's attorney? I don't think so," she singsonged. "Now I am p.i.s.sed, and I'm tired. I've got two boys at home. . . ." Detective O'Banyon stopped short.

Baines began to laugh; then he doubled over, laughing, spittle flying from his foul mouth. "d.a.m.n woman! If I'd-a known you had a couple-a young'uns, I'd gone after them, too." He continued to laugh and taunt the detective.

Sophie couldn't stand it anymore. She didn't care who saw her. She took a few short steps over to the single chair, where Clyde Baines sat. Before she could stop herself, she spit directly in his face.

Chapter 9.

Toots , Ida, and Mavis crammed themselves into the backseat of Toots's Lincoln Town Car while Goebel, Robert, and Bernice crawled into the front, raising the center armrest/storage compartment to make room to seat three, however uncomfortably. Jamie and Lucy opted out, telling the others that they'd stay with the animals. Chris and Abby returned to their house, though Abby asked Toots to call as soon as they had news of the children. "Good or bad," she'd added.

"I can't believe what Sophie did," Robert said. "She sure isn't what she appears."

"And what would that be?" Ida asked haughtily.

The older man chuckled. "I thought she was kinda nuts when I first met her, but now I know better. She's like that old Miss Cleo, huh?" He laughed again.

"Robert, whatever you do, never say that in front of Sophie. Miss Cleo is a total fake. Sophie hates those so-called psychics who lie to people, give them false hope, and take their money. So never, ever compare her to that fraud, or she's liable to place some kind of hex on you," Toots offered from the backseat, but poor old Robert couldn't see the huge grin that split her face.

"Are you telling me she can cast a spell or something? Like those women with the voodoo dolls I see down there at Market Street?"

"Robert, dear, you've got it all twisted up in a knot. She's just messing with your head," Bernice explained, giving Toots a dirty look. "We all agree Sophie has a very unique set of skills."

No one had told Robert or Wade everything that went on in the house next door. At the moment, Toots figured that was a good thing. Wade and Mavis were content to talk about dead people, while Bernice and Robert kept the recipe thing going. Someone would have to give them a bit more insight into Sophie and her skills as soon as the current mess with the kids' kidnapping and rescue was put to rest.

Goebel, at the wheel, chose that moment to comment. "Indeed she does, Bernice. Yes, indeed." He wore a grin as wide as the vehicle they drove.

"Oh, please don't paint that nasty picture of that woman in my head," Ida shot out. "It's all I can do to imagine she's even having s.e.x."

"Who said anything about s.e.x?" Toots asked. "Ida, are you getting weird on me again? I know it's been a while since you've bedded some unfortunate soul, but please."

"I was only saying what Goebel was thinking. Right, Goebel?" Ida teased. To this day, Sophie swore that Ida had a crush on Goebel. Toots believed she was right.

"Well, I'm not sure what you thought I was thinking, so I'd be hard put to agree to something that I'm so unsure of."

"Please, Goebel. Listen to yourself. You're starting to sound exactly like my attorney, and you would not believe the way in which he is able to use words that, when push comes to shove, don't really mean anything. Why, I thought you were smarter than that," Ida continued to tease.

The silly banter went back and forth until they reached the police station in downtown Charleston. Now it was time to get the real scoop, time to face the music.

Goebel found a parking spot for visitors only. As they emerged from the Lincoln, a group of photographers surrounded them in the parking lot. Klieg lights were positioned around the front of the police station, and a podium stood at the top of the stairs leading inside to police headquarters.

Oh, s.h.i.t, Toots thought. It's press time. Time for Sophie to show her face, reveal to the community where her real talents lay, if they didn't know already.

A crowd of reporters huddled around the foot of the steps. Toots watched as the camera people searched for the best angle, while others shouted out commands. Cables were coiled around the steps like black snakes. Microphones from all the local stations were jammed together at the podium, and Toots was sure she saw Nancy Grace from HLN skirting around the perimeter of the building. If so, whoever took those kids would have h.e.l.l to pay, once the cable star broke the news.

The hubbub of television reporters rehea.r.s.ed their intros, making sure there wasn't a single hair out of place; the women powdered their noses and reapplied their lipstick. It reminded Toots of Los Angeles, all the cameras, lights, throngs of people waiting at a movie premiere. As much as she loved her Malibu beach house, right now she was content to stay in Charleston for as long as she wanted. With Abby and Chris at the plantation, right around the corner, being home in Charleston was a trillion times better. She made a mental note when she got home to call Abby and see if she was feeling better.

A tall police officer, who couldn't have been a day over twenty-one, directed the throngs of people away from the podium. Everyone did as instructed, which put Toots and her crew a couple of hundred feet away, but that didn't matter, since they weren't really there to hear the news. They were already aware of the outcome; the staging of the announcement was just for the general public. They had come to take Sophie home, and, of course, they wanted to meet the parents and see the kids Sophie had saved, but those were things that would come later. As of this moment, they were simply gawkers, like the rest of the onlookers gathered away from the base of the steps. The drone of low voices reminded Toots of high-school basketball games, when they'd all sit in the bleachers, slowly start to stomp their feet, then chant until the team hit the court. Though this was much more serious, she couldn't help but smile at the memory of the four old friends at high-school basketball games.

A hush fell over the crowd as the gla.s.s doors opened. Ryan Lowande had served as Charleston's police chief for the past twelve years. A distinguished officer in the U.S. Air Force, as were his father and grandfather before him, Chief Lowande took his duties seriously. His commitment to the people of Charleston County was: public trust, high standards for those who served with him, and relationships with community groups in order to help deter crime of every kind. Toots made a hefty donation to their budget for the K-9 Unit, noted as one of the best in the country. She used to volunteer and work with the dogs when Abby was in school, but now she left it to those specifically trained for that sort of work. Her donations hadn't stopped and wouldn't. She had a stipulation in her will that would take care of the K-9 Unit as long as it existed.

Chief Lowande fit the picture of a chief of police. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with the kind of silvery gray hair that would only look good on a man, and had the clearest blue eyes. Eyes, Toots knew, that didn't miss a beat. He cleared his throat; then he tapped at the jumble of microphones in front of him. "I'm going to make a statement. Then I'll answer a few questions."

He removed a slip of paper from his crisp blue jacket, along with a pair of reading gla.s.ses. Taking a deep breath, Chief Lowande read from the paper.

" 'Tonight I am proud to announce that we've captured the leader of one of the largest child-p.o.r.nography rings in the state of South Carolina and now have him and several others in custody. This has been an ongoing investigation, and we will continue to search out and make arrests as warranted. Because this is still under investigation, there are details I can't give out at this time, but we will make them public as soon as we are in a position to do so.' " He looked at the large crowd gathered around him. "I'll take your questions now."

Several reporters shouted out questions, each trying to speak over the other, and it was nothing more than a shouting match. Chief Lowande immediately took control of the situation. "Please, one at a time. Maria Marttila from WTAT, Fox 24, go ahead." The chief had picked one of the top news anchors in the city. Gutsy and unafraid, Maria had won numerous awards for her investigative reporting. Toots wondered how she would have fared at The Informer.

"My source tells me you were tipped off by a psychic. Can you confirm this?"

The crowd went crazy. Chief Lowande smiled and held both hands out in front of him to indicate he needed silence. "You must have many sources, Maria," the chief stated. "The South Carolina Law Enforcement Division, along with the Charleston County Sheriff's Office, have been working together on this operation for several months. We're proud to say that because of months of undercover work and the help of a well-known woman whose psychic abilities led us to the location where two young children were being kept, while waiting to be transported, we're confident this ring is closed. Since the kids are minors, I won't be releasing any information about who they are, but I can tell you that both children were extremely brave and were not physically harmed."

"How old are they?" shouted one blond reporter.

"Are the parents willing to be interviewed?" John Moxley, evening news anchor from WCIV, Channel 4, shouted, holding his minirecorder high in the air, even though his station's news van was covering the event live.

"I am not releasing the names of the parents at this time. If they wish to speak to you at a later date, then I am sure they will contact you," Chief Lowande explained.

"So you're not really telling us anything?" came a voice from the crowd.

"Only that tonight's arrests were instrumental in bringing down one of the largest child-p.o.r.nography rings in the state. Now I'll let you question the real hero of the hour."

Chief Lowande stepped aside, making room for the crowd of policemen and policewomen surrounding Sophie as she walked over to the podium. The microphones were lowered for her before she stepped up to the podium.

A high-pitched squeal emanated from the speakers. Everyone placed their hands over their ears until some techie fixed the sound.

Toots wondered if Sophie had orchestrated that herself. Her talent was growing by leaps and bounds. Maybe she'd be able to move things around with her mind before all of this was over. She'd come a long way from Madam b.u.t.terfly's in New York. Toots was so proud of her friends. If pride were money, she would be the richest woman to ever live.

More high-pitched noise; then Sophie's sultry voice filled the cool night air. Toots observed her. Hot d.a.m.n, she was a knockout! Sophie's sculpted beauty was made to be admired, and Ida's concoction only made her look even better.

"I just want to thank the officers who took me seriously enough to follow my instructions. Without their hard work, none of us would be here now, nor would those children, who were taken against their will. The kids are fine, and let me tell you this, they're two of the bravest souls I have ever seen. I know you all have questions, but before you ask, I'm on the same page with the chief." Sophie shot Chief Lowande her best smile. "So nothing about the children, other than that they're safe. And brave."

Toots caught Sophie's gaze over the many heads in the crowd. She gave her the thumbs-up sign; then Sophie directed her attention to a young female reporter who wasn't well known.

"Hi, uh . . . yes." The reporter appeared fl.u.s.tered, surprised when Sophie chose her over the many high-ranking news anchors. "I'm Sally Owens with the Charleston County Courier," the reporter stated as protocol dictated. "Can you tell me how you knew where the children were? What kind of vision led to their discovery?"

Sophie nodded. "First, let me correct you. I didn't have a vision." It was then that Sophie spied Goebel in the crowd. She blew him a kiss. She was on top of the world now and wanted the world to know that she, too, had a significant other. He blew her a kiss, acknowledging hers. She simply grinned and continued to answer the young reporter as all eyes were focused on her. She had the crowd's undivided attention as she told her version of events leading up to the discovery of the kids.

"This is a first for me. I was given some personal items belonging to the children. I held them, and prayed for guidance. They call this kind of 'vision' "-she made air quotes with her hands-" 'clairsentience.' Clairsentience is the ability to receive an image from the item owned by the person. Personally, I think Detective O'Banyon already had a good idea who had taken the children. It was simply a matter of finding their exact location. I followed my instincts, and the children led me to the place where they were being held." Sophie paused to glance out over the crowd. It had doubled in the past ten minutes.

"Miss Sophie," came a voice that almost everyone was familiar with. "May I ask you a question?" The one-and-only Nancy Grace herself, former Atlanta prosecutor and partic.i.p.ant on Dancing with the Stars, minus the twins, shoved her way to the front of the crowd. She didn't bother to wait for Sophie's answer. "Weren't you the psychic that found Laura Leigh last year?"

From the expression on her face, if you knew Sophie, you knew she was caught off guard by the well-known anchor.

"Yes, but that isn't what I'm here to share with the good people of Charleston."

"Would it be true to say you are tops in your field of locating missing persons?" Nancy Grace asked, then added, "Dead or alive?"

Sophie took a deep breath, not wanting the crowd to see she was p.i.s.sed at this line of questioning. "And I have always found them alive. I hope that answers your question, Ms. Grace."

Toots listened to the beginning of what might've become the battle of the b.i.t.c.hes, had Chief Lowande not stepped forward. "That's all we're going to discuss now. Note that several suspects have been arrested after a lengthy investigation that remains ongoing. The police department will keep the media updated on tonight's arrest. For now, I just want to thank Sophia Manchester and say how pleased I am that her G.o.d-given abilities helped us to find those children."

Nancy Grace and her team disappeared in the crowd.

The mob of people booed and aahed, none of which mattered to Sophie. She stepped away from the podium, heading inside where the grateful parents were waiting to speak with her.

Inside, away from the mob, Sophie dialed Toots's cell. "There's a side entrance you can use. Just be careful and make sure that Nancy Grace isn't on your tail." Sophie gave Toots directions to the private entrance; then she raced down a flight of steps to greet her.

"What the heck?" Sophie asked as Toots was followed in by Goebel, Mavis, Ida, Bernice, and Robert. "Looks like a family reunion."

"Now, before you cast a spell on me or whatever it is you do, I just want to say that I'm not afraid of you," Robert stated as though he were up against an armed robber with a sawed-off shotgun rather than Sophia Manchester.

"Robert, that is good to know. I didn't realize I was so frightening to you, but keep your eyes open because sometimes I've been known to do things I can't control."

Robert's face turned ten shades of white. His eyes were as big around as the moon. He looked to Bernice.

"Sophie, if you cause this man to have a heart attack, I swear I will kick your a.s.s myself. Now tell him you're not serious. Right now," Bernice demanded.

Toots bit the insides of her mouth to keep from laughing.