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PsyCop #6.2: Memento

Pensive Vic

Memento: A PsyCop Short

Series: PsyCop #6.2
First Electronic Edition
Length: Short Story - 5,000 words
Cover artist: Jordan Castillo Price - see larger cover
ISBN: 978-1-935540-81-6

 

Exclusively available in the collection PsyCop Briefs: Volume 1:

AmazonKobo • iTunesBN

And in paperback at Amazon


Summary

 

Seasons change, and so do fashion trends. But in this heartstring-tugging PsyCop short, what’s beneath the clothes matters most.

Do clothes make the man? Jacob Marks cuts an impressive figure in his tailored suits, but Victor Bayne is another story. Nowadays, Vic does his ghosthunting in off-the-rack blazers, polyester blend slacks and cop shoes with nonskid soles. But back before he was a PsyCop—or even officially psychic—he rocked combat boots and a beat up biker jacket…and lots and lots of punk T-shirts. When he finds a faded tee in the back of a drawer, he’s eager to lob it in the trash. Jacob, however, finds himself waxing sentimental about Vic’s younger, more carefree days.

This steamy 5000-word PsyCop short in Jacob’s voice takes place after PsyCop #6, GhosTV.

 

Excerpt

Words blurred and swam. Had I read this book before, or only this page? Hard to tell. As far as authors go, I have a handful of old favorites I follow, and a lot of their stuff reads the same. That’s probably what I like about it. The predictability. Vic was shuffling around the bedroom, and although it wasn’t a conscious decision, I had half my attention on him. My mind tends to wander while I read fiction anyway. That’s a good thing. I enjoy the fact that no one will actually be raped or murdered while I take my time piecing all the clues together. The supernatural villains don’t hurt any real people, either.

“Weird,” Vic said.

Another great thing about reading is that it’s supremely interruptible.

I put down the paperback with its pages spread across my chest to mark my place…though I’d probably end up backtracking a few pages. He hadn’t sounded alarmed, merely curious, so I took my time in answering. He was at the foot of the bed now, crouched by the dresser with a drawer open. I watched him frown at something in his lap for a moment before I lifted my head off the pillow and said, “What’s weird?”

“This shirt.”

I dog-eared the page I was on, closed the book, and let it slide to the floor.

Vic held up the T-shirt. It was a dingy white with yellowed pit-stains, and it had some obnoxious punk rock design on it, a skull with a spiked mohawk, crazed through with cracks where the silkscreen paint had gone brittle. The fabric looked thin. Not thin like it was a clingy knit, but thin like a majority of the fibers had been stripped off by an untold number of washings, then blown out the dryer vent.

“Okay.” I could name any number of things I thought were weird about it.

“D’you know how old this is?”

Rhetorical question. I shrugged and waited for him to tell me.

“I got this in like…ninety? No, eighty-nine. No, wait….” He scowled. Attempted to pinpoint a year. “High school, anyway.”

Before Camp Hell. Before the mental ward, too. I stayed quiet, hoping for a rare glimpse into his past. I’ve always had a feeling he was different then, really different. Granted, we all were. Him, though, more than most.

I watched his eyes. They were unfocused. His scowl deepened. To determine if it was a thinking-scowl or something worse, I asked, “Is that a band on it?”

“Oh. Yeah.” His focus slowly returned, and his scowl softened. “The Exploited…they played the Metro. I got lucky sometimes, y’know, getting into a club even though I was underage, depending on how secure the bouncer was about his height. I got lucky then.” He smiled, almost. “Not that lucky…but once I was done getting kidney-punched in the mosh pit, I ended up pressed right up against the stage. And it’s a concert, right? So you’d think I would remember the way they sounded. But I don’t.” He stretched the shirt between two fists and ran his thumbs over the peeling ink. “I remember how it smelled. The beer and the Aqua Net and the leather and sweat, it all mixed together into this…this….” He opened his hands and dropped the shirt as words failed him. “It doesn’t sound very appealing, I guess.”

“No. It does.” Particularly if I imagined him in the scene. He doesn’t wear leather nowadays—says he’s too old and he’d look like a dork. The thought of him jammed into the stage in a battered biker jacket, sinewy and scowling, with a beer-leather-sweat fog roiling around in the heat of the stage lights? Plenty appealing. Plenty.

PsyCop Ebooks

#1: Among the Living
What good is being a psychic detective if your murder victims aren't talking?

#1.1: Thaw
A heartwarming glimpse at a cold winter's day

#2: Criss Cross
Mysterious messages from Lisa lead Vic on a wild ride.

#2.1 Striking Sparks
Andrew's got cold feet about his upcoming wedding. He figures a palm reading is just the ticket.

#2.2 Many Happy Returns
It's the holiday season at SaverPlus, and customers have become incredibly demanding.

#3: Body & Soul
Three missing people. No bodies. No ghosts. At least the case gets Vic out of an awkward family dinner.

#4: Secrets
Is someone watching Vic's every move, or is he imagining things? Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you.

#5: Camp Hell
Vic delves into his repressed memories of Camp Hell and dredges up more than he bargained for.

#6: GhosTV
Lisa's gone missing, and Vic and Jacob head to PsyTrain for some answers.

#7: Spook Squad
Victor has been avoiding the exorcism he owes the FPMP. Now it's time to pay up.

#8: Skin After Skin
A sweeping look at the PsyCop series from Crash's empathic point of view

#9: Agent Bayne
Victor might be through with the Chicago PD, but is he ready for the FPMP?

PsyCop Briefs: Volume 1
Join Vic and Jacob off the clock in 20 PsyCop shorts

 

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