Madison's Gift Read online

  MADISON’S GIFT

  By Marie Higgins

  Copyright © 2017 by Marie Higgins

  Cover Design by Sheri McGathy

  Edition License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Crowned Heart of Excellence

  Review received from InD’tale Magazine

  Finalist in the RONE Awards

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Madison's Gift (The Gifted)

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGTHEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  Find more stories by Marie Higgins

  Author’s Bio

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  In a world full of normal people, Madison Haywood stands apart. Madison sees things that others cannot, and she uses her visions to assist people who are in trouble—even the Metropolitan Police. Not everyone is accepting of her gift, however, and she isn’t certain what to make of the handsome police inspector, Cameron Westland, who has a habit of interrupting her life.

  Cameron Westland’s younger sister has gone missing. Working as an investigator for the Metropolitan Police isn’t getting him anywhere. But when his other sister brings in a woman claiming to have visions, he’s leery to believe. Although he’s attracted to Miss Haywood, he thinks she is losing her mind. Desperate to try anything to find his lost sister, Cameron gives the puzzling Miss Haywood a chance and soon finds himself in danger of losing his heart.

  ONE

  I must save the boy!

  Madison Haywood breathed deeply, focusing her concentration on the matter at hand. A strong scent of coffee drifted around her, and she tried pushing the aroma from her thoughts. Mr. Clarkston stood by the window of the little office inside the Metropolitan Police Station, noisily sipping from his cup. His grown son, Harry, sat by Inspector Johnson’s wooden desk, drumming his fingers on the oak top.

  These fools were making it impossible to clear her head.

  She squeezed her eyes closed, and clutched the lost little boy’s boot to her chest. She ran the pad of her finger over the slightly frayed laces and onto the smooth leather. The lad had been wearing this boot before he’d disappeared.

  “You must try harder, Miss Haywood. Concentrate!” Inspector Johnson’s grating voice pierced her concentration.

  Grumbling under her breath, she snapped her eyes open and stared at him. Try harder? Indeed! One did not merely ask a woman with her particular gift for assistance and expect her to produce results while screaming at her.

  “This is hogwash,” Mr. Clarkston said irritably. “We are wasting valuable time. My son and I should be with the other volunteers searching for Judge Gruber’s grandson, not listening to this mad-woman.”

  Madison gritted her teeth as she raked her gaze across the men in the room. “Inspector, please. I must have silence in order for this to work.”

  Inspector Johnson inclined his head. “My apologies, Miss Haywood. Please proceed.”

  Drawing a deep breath, Madison closed her eyes once more, blocking out the judgmental gazes of Mr. Clarkston and his son. She realized that not everyone believed in her visions. Most people called her an imposter, in fact. She was used to people thinking that way in regards to her gift.

  She couldn’t fathom why the boy’s image hadn’t suddenly popped into her mind. Usually, she didn’t have to struggle with her visions. Then again, she’d never had three impatient men staring her down, either.

  Pushing all of her negative thoughts aside, she focused on clearing her head of any images besides the lad’s boot. The deeper she breathed the more her body and mind calmed. Slowly, the image of Mr. Clarkston’s pocked blanched face faded from her mind.

  Just as she finally put everything aside, the boy’s face became clear. Scratches marred his ten-year-old body, and dirt smudged his face. His reddish-blonde hair matted his head, and a small amount of dried blood stained his ear. He wore one boot, and it was wet, as were the bottom of his trousers.

  Relief suffused her. He was alive. At least for now.

  She couldn’t hear any sounds around him, but sometimes her visions didn’t allow the sound to come through. From what she could tell, he was outside in the woods. He sat on a fallen tree, eating... She breathed deeper, trying to focus harder. All around him were trees that were lying on the ground instead of rising toward the sky. However, the lad was alone. She couldn’t see anyone nearby.

  The boy’s frightened eyes darted all around him. His chest rose and fell with quick breaths. His mouth moved, and Madison heard no words. His lips formed the words Ma and Pa.

  “I see him,” Madison whispered. Still blocking out the sounds in the room, she continued to describe her vision to the inspector. “He’s in the woods near fallen trees. He’s scratched up, but I think he’s fine.”

  “Do you see who kidnapped him?” Inspector Johnson asked in a tight voice.

  “No. He’s alone.”

  Madison zeroed in on the trees, searching for any clues that might hint at the boy’s location. There were only a few glades like this around London. At first nothing discerning met her eye, but then the boy leaned over and scooped up a handful of rusty, orange-colored shavings. Next to his hand was an axe.

  Realization hit her, and she gasped, taking a step back. A large hand grasped her arm as though to steady her. She kept her eyes closed, clinging to the vision, and muttered, “Woodcutters.”

  In a split second, the vision disappeared. Blinking, she tried to regain her senses as she entered the real world again. Inspector Johnson’s brown eyes were wide and his mouth hung agape. Mr. Clarkston’s face paled further—if that was possible. And his son...well, some people would never believe in her gift no matter how many times she had proven them wrong. The younger Clarkston released Madison’s arm, folded his arms across his chest, and arched a judgmental eyebrow.

  “Woodcutters?” The inspector scratched his long, bushy brown sideburns. “I say, Miss Haywood, I’m not certain what you mean by that. Judge Gruber is not acquainted with any woodcutters that I know of. Why would they have taken his grandson?”

  The younger Mr. Clarkston scoffed with disgust. “Deceitful wench. This is all an act. I’ll stake my career as a barrister upon it.”

  Madison sat on the edge of the desk. Her visions had always weakened her for a few moments. The unbelievers usually thought this was part of her performance, but she was exhausted with trying to convince them otherwise.

  “We have to trust her,” Inspector Johnson snapped, aiming a scowl at the younger man. “We have no other leads.”

  The younger Clarkston grumbled, and motioned toward Madison. “I cannot believe a word that comes out of her mouth. The next thing you’ll tell us is that she speaks to dead people as well.”

  Madison couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. “Actually,” she began as she tapped her booted heel on the floor, “I can talk to dead
people, but only if they allow it. If you’d like, I could ask that ghost standing behind you now...”

  The man hitched a breath and swung around, looking behind him. Madison held back the laugh ready to spring from her throat. However, she couldn’t stop the grin from stretching across her mouth.

  The man growled and turned back to face her. He laughed slowly and forcefully. “You are not very humorous, Miss Haywood.”

  Madison shrugged as she grinned. “I disagree. I think I was rather funny just then.”

  “Augh!” The inspector shoved past the large man, and moved closer to Madison. “Harry, leave her be. Because of her vision, we have more to go on than the three of us have found. Give her a chance.” Inspector Johnson met Madison’s gaze. “You said woodcutter. Why?”

  Throat dry, Madison swallowed and looked into the man’s desperate gaze. “In my vision, the boy scooped up wood shavings. They looked to be fresh. Fallen trees were all around him. He must be somewhere in the woods where woodcutters have been. And there was an axe by his feet. The bottom of his trousers were wet, as well.”

  “Hmm...” The inspector paced the small area in the room. “Woods and water.” He stopped and switched his gaze to Madison. “Is it possible that the boy is in Bromley?”

  The elder Mr. Clarkston choked on his coffee, and placed the mug on the desk. “My cousin is a woodcutter. He and his crew have been working in that area.”

  Madison swung her hand toward the door. “Then gentleman, I suggest you leave immediately and investigate this further before you lose anymore sunlight. Judge Gruber’s grandson appeared weak. His face was—” she stopped herself before blurting paler than Mr. Clarkston’s, “extremely white, and his eyes sunken in.”

  The inspector dashed around the desk and grabbed a pistol. “Let us go now.”

  “You cannot be serious.” Harry Clarkston shook his head in disbelief.

  Inspector Johnson scowled at the younger man and shoved a pointed finger into his wide chest. “I’m very serious. I’d rather look into this lead than tell the judge that we have no idea where to find his grandson. And, if by chance, the boy is in the woods, I’d rather find and return him home than see his parents’ sad expressions. I particularly don’t want the guilt of knowing that I could have stopped a child’s death, but didn’t because you had reservations about this young woman’s visions.”

  Harry held up his hands in surrender. “As you wish. We’ll go, but if the boy is not there—”

  “Then you will hear my apology.” The inspector nodded. He straightened and plopped his hat on his head. His gaze met Madison’s. “I would like you to stay here. We shall return before nightfall.”

  Madison bit her tongue. Should she argue? What could she possibly do in the inspector’s office for that long? She hated twiddling her thumbs. She’d likely expire from boredom.

  Slowly, she released a frustrated breath and nodded. She must do what the inspector asked of her. This boy needed to be found soon. The sun would be descending within a few hours, and once darkness covered the land, it would be impossible to find the missing lad.

  “I’ll wait.”

  Inspector Johnson led the way out of the room, and the other men followed wordlessly. Madison meandered out into the large main room and found an empty chair. As she glanced at the other policemen, it was hard to ignore their distrustful stares. One might think she’d grown two heads...or sprouted horns...or even a tail. Most people that knew of her visions didn’t believe she was human. Many believed her ability was the work of the devil.

  She’d known she was different since she was seven-years-old. Over the years, it had become very difficult to convince people of her abilities. And now, fifteen years later, no matter how many times she proved herself, most people remained skeptical and some were downright cruel.

  Because she was different than the other children in school, Madison didn’t have many friends. Except for Josephine. Josephine had been friends with Madison since they were ten-years-old. She was the first girl to accept Madison’s gift without judging her or thinking she was a fraud.

  About a week ago, Josie told Madison that she should be assisting Metropolitan Police on a regular basis instead of taking a case now and again. Josie had said that these men needed her. She’d been at Josie’s house for a visit, and shortly after the mid-day meal, a rider had come to see her, informing her that Inspector Johnson needed to see her on urgent business. The inspector had previously been convinced that Madison could help. No doubt Josie was responsible for Madison’s being there now.

  Madison adjusted in the uncomfortable chair and stretched her legs out in front of her. The tips of her boots peeked from underneath the brown and green gingham dress she wore. With brown-gloved hands, she smoothed a few of the wrinkles that had gathered since she’d arrived not too long ago.

  She lifted her gaze and slowly took in everything—and everyone—in the room. Two men wearing uniforms stood against the other wall, talking in low voices. One older, gray-haired woman sat at the desk of one of the other officers, pleading with heartfelt sobs for someone to help her find her lost dog. She clutched a brown rope, turning it over and over in her hands. The officer assisting her definitely didn’t appear as if he truly wanted to help the old woman.

  A woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties, sat by the two officers near the wall. The woman’s swollen eyes were filled with tears and she dabbed a white handkerchief to her cheeks as the tears rolled down her face. Occasionally, the woman peered Madison’s way, but then quickly dropped her gaze to her lap.

  Madison closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. This was going to be a very long day as she waited for Inspector Johnson. She sighed and glanced toward the door again. She hoped he would be able to find Judge Gruber’s grandson. Although she couldn’t give him an exact location, she prayed it would at least lead him in the right direction.

  At the sound of the older woman’s sobs, Madison moved her gaze to the lady.

  “Please, Officer,” the woman begged as she leaned forward on the desk, “I know someone has stolen my husband’s prized Labrador. Tobias is the best there is.”

  “Uh...Tobias?” The officer tilted his head and narrowed his gaze on the older woman. “Is that your husband or your dog?”

  The old woman huffed. “That’s my dog, of course.”

  Madison held back a grin.

  “Well, you see, Mrs. Inman,” the man strummed his beefy fingers on the desk. The lack of sympathy in his tone let Madison know he didn’t plan on doing anything to help the woman. “We are Metropolitan Police Officers. We don’t help with missing dogs cases.”

  “But don’t you see?” She twisted the rope in her hands. “I think someone has kidnapped him, and...what if they want a ransom? Tobias is worth a lot of money.”

  “I see,” the policeman said. His oversized jowls shook when he spoke. “Have you received a ransom note?”

  “Well...no.”

  Madison placed her hand over her mouth to keep from smiling, for what concern the woman had for her prized Labrador. She’d never understand why some people treated their dogs better than their own children.

  “You must understand, Inspector,” Mrs. Inman held up the leash, “I don’t usually have Tobias on a rope, but this morning, he seemed jumpy, so I tied him up so I could travel into town to visit my grandchildren. When I returned, Tobias was gone.”

  Madison studied the leash. She wasn’t very far from the old woman, making it easy to glance over the object. Immediately, she noticed something that obviously, the other woman had overlooked. Should Madison say something? Yet, she had always helped people who were in need anyway she could.

  She stood and cleared her throat. “Excuse me for interrupting,” she stepped beside the older woman, “but I think I might know what happened to your dog.”

  The officer lifted a skeptical eye to her. “Miss Haywood.” Irritation laced his voice. “I have this handled, but I thank you for trying to assist.”

&
nbsp; Madison shrugged. “Yes, I can clearly see you have this handled, however, I just thought I’d reassure this woman that her dog wasn’t stolen.” She turned to move back to her chair, but the old woman touched Madison’s arm. She met the woman’s gaze.

  “What do you know about Tobias?” the lady asked in a shaky voice.

  Madison didn’t wait to get permission from the officer, and instead, pointed at the leash. “Do you see where your dog has chewed the rope? I suspect your dog freed himself from the leash.”

  The woman sucked in a breath as her hand flew to her throat. “Oh, my. I didn’t even realize it had been chewed.”

  “I’m certain your dog didn’t go very far,” Madison assured her as she reached out to place her fingers on the rope. The moment her skin made contact, a scene flashed in her head. The Labrador was someplace dark and damp...and enclosed. The light brown fur of the animal had turned nearly black from mud, and clumps of twigs matted in the animal’s fur. The dog’s paws were wet, and Tobias shivered when he whined.

  “Mrs. Inman?” Madison asked the old woman. “Do you know if there is a canal near your home?”

  The woman’s face paled. “Y-yes there is. Why do you ask?”

  “I believe that’s where you can find your dog. He’s trapped in the canal.”

  “How...how do you know?” she asked warily.

  The officer snorted and flipped a beefy hand in the air. “Miss Haywood thinks she has visions.”

  “Indeed?” The woman’s eyes widened even more, if that were possible. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “Well, Ma’am, I’ve been having visions since I was a young girl.” Madison folded her arms. “When I touched the dog’s rope, I saw him inside a dark, damp, hole like a canal.” She released a deep breath. “If you like, I shall go with you to find him.”

  Gratitude danced in the woman’s brown eyes. “Oh, yes—”

  “That won’t be necessary,” the officer cut in. “I’ll have one of the officers assist Mrs. Inman.”

  Madison held up her hands in surrender. “You will? I thought you just told Mrs. Inman that Metropolitan Police—”