“In third grade when I was going to steal that pencil in the grocery store for you. I never said a word, but you started lecturing me about taking things that didn’t belong to me.”
I nodded as I recalled the instance. “You were anxious, and you kept walking back to touch the pencil with my name on it.”
He laughed. “Freaked me out, too, because my mom was always telling me not to do something even before I did it—you know how parents seem to have eyes in the back of their heads.” He shook his head. “What really made me realize you were special was when I had a crush on that girl, Candy. You told me you were positive she liked me too, and you were right. Later, you told me she was looking at another boy, and damned if you didn’t hit the nail on the head with that one. At first, I believed all women just knew things about men then I realized you could actually read people’s emotions.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. He’d known about that part of me since we were kids? I wanted to be angry with him then realized he’d actually made my life easier by not saying anything. I reached over and squeezed his hand. “Thanks for being such a good friend.”
“Any time, Evie,” he smiled. “Does that mean you’ll cook dinner for me? Since, after all, I kept your secret for over twenty years,” he teased. Bud knew quite well I was a horrible cook. We had a long-standing joke between us that I’d only cook for him when hell froze over.
I laughed as I walked into the kitchen. “Ha-ha, no. I’ll gladly order a pizza, though.”
The phone rang, interrupting our banter, and I walked over to the counter to screen the call. I’d decide if I wanted to talk to the person, depending on my caller ID. I just wasn’t in the mood for chitchatting at the moment.
The phone identified the caller as the Bluff Springs Police Department. I took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Dubois, this is Detective Ben Stone. Have I caught you at a bad time?”
“No, Detective. What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to let you know that we were able to lift one of the men’s fingerprints from your house.” He paused for a moment, and I heard pages rustling as he shuffled through them. “Do you know a Carter Parsons?”
I thought for a minute before answering. “No, I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“Hmm. Well, it seems he knew quite a bit about you.”
“Oh? Why do you say that?”
“We found a vehicle on Route 100 down near Alton with his prints all over it. He had several files in his car containing detailed information about you and your grandfather.”
What the hell?
“What kind of information and why?” Now, I was worried.
“The files contained your birth and hospital records—practically every cut, bruise and scrape you’ve ever had was listed in there. Also, your school records, favorite foods, sleep schedule, where you shop, what kind of car you drive…all your intimate details were listed. As far as the why, we’re still working on that part. We were hoping you could help us.”
He waited for me to fill in the silence, but I had nothing to say. I didn’t know anyone named Carter, and I didn’t know anyone with the last name Parsons. I informed the detective of this, and he seemed quite disappointed.
“I’m sorry, Detective. If I had any more information, I’d give it to you without hesitation.”
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Dubois. We’ll keep you updated.”
“I appreciate it.” I nearly hung up then remembered to ask, “What did the files say about my grandfather?”
“Pretty much the same, except it went into more detail about his, uh, profession,” he answered uncomfortably.
“I see,” I replied, knowing the detective was less likely to reveal anything about my grandpa due to his personal beliefs. I’d make sure to ask Bud to look over the files just in case there was something helpful in them the detective dismissed as “nonsense”. Then again, he didn’t have to answer my question at all, so I owed it to him to be polite. “Thank you, Detective.”
“Oh, almost forgot. Is Sheriff LaGrange available?”
“Yes, one moment.”
I handed the phone to Bud, who said quite a few “uh-huhs” and “mm-hmms” then hung up the phone without explaining the end of the call.
“I need to go into work, Evie. Will you be okay for a while?”
“I’ll be fine. Thanks though.”
“I’m sending a deputy to keep you company,” he said. Before I could protest, he gave me his tough-guy look, and I knew there was absolutely no arguing with him.
I held up my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, fine.” I loudly exhaled. “But the driveway is the closest he gets to my house.”
“Deal,” he answered. From his smirk, I guessed he’d planned to ask the guy to keep watch from even farther away, but now that I’d given permission for the deputy to be in my driveway, he seemed even happier. “Oh, and I’ll dispatch a couple men to swing by your grandfather’s house, too.”
I sighed with relief. “Thanks, Bud, it means a lot.”
“If I’m not back in a couple of hours, I’ll call you to check in.”
“Call my cell phone, just in case I decide I need a change of scenery. Thanks, Bud, for everything.” I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.
The six-foot two-inch man blushed then quickly left as he mumbled a goodbye on his way out the door. After he left, I made sure the front door was locked and that the sliding door in my bedroom was secure and blocked with a piece of wood that fit perfectly. I locked the window in the spare bedroom and found myself staring at the bed. Where had Vale gone? Why would he just get up and leave?
How
could he have left when he’d been unconscious for days? Was he playing some kind of game, and if so, why?
There were so many unanswered questions, it made my head hurt. I desperately wanted to talk to my grandpa, but he still wasn’t answering his phone, even after I’d left three messages. I walked back into the living room and lay down on the couch. Though I’d only been awake for a short amount of time, I was already exhausted. Within minutes of my head hitting the pillow, I was sound asleep with Murrlin curled up in my lap.
Chapter Nine
It seemed as though I was only asleep for a few minutes when my phone rang. Hoping the caller was my grandpa, I answered without looking at caller ID, which was a perfect demonstration of the extent of my rattled nerves. Having received enough prank calls to last a lifetime due to my Sensitive abilities, answering without knowing who was calling was something I just didn’t do.
“Eve, is that you?” asked the caller.
“Yes, who’s calling, please?” Thankfully, my manners were still intact.
“This is Nancy Grimes, Mrs. Oliver’s nurse,” she explained. “One second please.”
I heard muffled voices in the background as I waited for her to continue. The phone creaked as it changed hands. “Oh, hello, dear. This is Mrs. Oliver. It seems George has moved my keys again, and I can’t seem to locate them this time. Would you be available to find them for me?”
“Of course, Mrs. Oliver. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. Is that all right?”
Always the sweet, gentle lady, Mrs. Oliver replied, “Yes, dear, that would be perfect. See you soon.”
Mrs. George Oliver was a kind, lovely older woman who had always been good to me. She was one of the people who vouched for my Sensitive abilities, and I would forever be grateful to the grandmotherly woman. It was Mr. Oliver—or rather, his ghost—who’d told me to use my abilities to help people.
My Grandpa Evan and I had attended Mr. Oliver’s funeral. I’d watched as the casket was lowered into the ground and looked up to see Mr. Oliver standing right next to me. Confused as to why there were two Mr. Olivers, I’d asked him if he was George’s brother.
He’d smiled at me, and after making me promise to always look after his wife, he’d told me to ignore rude people, to always be kind to others and to use my gift to help people. I’d watched as he stood next to his mourning wife and put his ghostly arms around her.
I’d relayed the message to Anna, who was delighted to hear from George. Unfortunately, not everyone in attendance at the funeral felt the same way. A heartbeat after I’d told Mrs. Oliver I’d just seen George and he was happy, I heard a woman “tsk” behind me.
Mrs. June Meyer had stood next to her best and only friend, Mrs. Gertrude Johnston. She’d been quite disgusted at my blasphemous words and made sure I knew how shamefully I had behaved. Though Anna had defended me and had the woman escorted away from the gravesite, which was quite the scandal, my life was forever changed.
By the next day, Mrs. Meyer had told everyone she met about my behavior at the funeral. Word had flown all over Bluff Springs about my pretending to talk to a ghost, and it was the hot gossip for the next several days. Mrs. Meyer had practically stood on the corner of the old coffee shop and trumpeted the story all morning. By early afternoon, everyone had known what had happened; at least, they knew Mrs. Meyer’s version.
People either supported or disbelieved my ability to communicate with the dead. Mrs. Oliver had never doubted me and had always loved me, regardless of what people said.
Mr. Oliver continued to be active in his wife’s life, even after he passed. He moved the cushions on his chair or brushed the sheets back on his side of the bed to remind his beloved wife he was still lovingly watching over her.
One of his favorite pastimes was to play a trick on his wife by hiding her keys. He liked to hide them in odd places, places she couldn’t reach such as the top shelf of her cupboard, behind the canned goods or on top of her refrigerator. Once, he’d hidden them in the garage in his toolbox. I thought it was sweet of Mr. Oliver to tease his wife, and Mrs. Oliver seemed to find comfort in knowing he was with her.
There were times, I suspected, it was Mrs. Oliver who’d actually misplaced her keys, but she was such a lovely person, I wasn’t about to mention it. I’d found them in the usual places any living person would put her keys and forget about them, such as the bathroom, in a coat pocket and the ignition of the car.
Recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, Anna had good days and bad days as far as her memory was concerned. A nurse lived with Mrs. Oliver to care for her and make sure she didn’t wander from home. Her caregiver, Nancy, was wonderful to Mrs. Oliver and even indulged the elderly woman’s need to talk to her late husband. She even allowed me to perform my “silly” rituals if it made Anna happy. Though Nancy never believed a word passed through my lips, she was always polite for Mrs. Oliver’s sake, and I was ever grateful.
I changed my clothes from my skimpy shorts and T-shirt to a knee-length, flowery skirt and matching coral blouse. It didn’t matter what I wore when I sought out ghosts, but a professional appearance always seemed to put my mind in business mode. Also, it was more appropriate to look nice when visiting a friend of my grandpa.
Although Mrs. Oliver wouldn’t have asked for visual proof, it just made it easier and made me appear less psychotic if I used dowsing rods to relay Mr. Oliver’s answers to my questions. In addition, I secretly hoped to prove my credibility to Nancy if she ever chose to stay and watch me work. I wasn’t holding my breath.
After dressing, I retrieved the rods from the shelf in my closet. I kept them in a special hardback briefcase I’d had made for them years ago. It kept them safe. Besides, presentation is everything. The attaché contained dark velour padding on the inside, and combination locks on either side.
This afternoon, I’d use the same yes/no system I’d used with Colby to answer questions. The rods really worked for me, and they’d never hindered my abilities, so I didn’t see any harm in reaffirming the ghost’s answers to my questions.
Murrlin had wandered into the bedroom while I’d changed clothes and was now sitting comfortably in the middle of my bed. I scratched him under the chin, and he rewarded me by purring loudly.
After I grabbed my dowsing rod case, I made sure the front door was locked and turned on a light so I wouldn’t return to a dark house if I arrived home late in the evening. I double-checked the deadbolt on my front door out of paranoia before heading into the garage.
The sun shone brightly as I backed into the driveway and turned the truck around. It felt good to get out of my house and to have the distraction of work foremost in my mind.
Again, the feeling of being watched crept over my skin, but the only other person in close proximity was the deputy assigned to watch my property. I quickly dismissed it as jittery nerves from the previous day and pressed the remote to close the garage door and the iron fence.
Using my Sensitive abilities and my magic always made me feel better, even though it was tiring. It helped my mind become more attuned with my surroundings. I always looked forward to helping people any way I could, even if the results weren’t always pleasant. I took solace in knowing my abilities had served a purpose and would close open chapters and put minds at rest.
Mrs. Oliver lived in one of the older houses in Bluff Springs. It had been in her family for generations. She, her father and her grandfather had been born in the house she called home. She waited for me on the front porch and watched me park my SUV on the street. She kindly offered her specialty drink to me, which I gladly accepted because her lemonade shake-ups tasted wonderful in the summer heat.
“Thank you for coming over so quickly, dear,” she said as she patted my hand. “I have to run errands before it gets dark.”
Nancy piped up from behind Mrs. Oliver. “We’ll take my car if Eve can’t locate your keys, ma’am.”
Anna thanked Nancy then looked up and stared at no place in particular. “George has terrible timing today, and I’m sure he wouldn’t want me to trouble this nice young woman.” She waggled her finger at him, wherever he was, then smiled. “But it is nice to know he’s here, even if he still has the same sense of humor.”
As Mrs. Oliver fetched a lemonade, the nurse commented, “Today has been a rough day for her. She’s frustrated and keeps losing things. I hate to see her so upset.”