Authors: Maggie Toussaint
“I’m fine.” I hoped I was. Without warning, my left hand spasmed, and the sand slipped through my fingers.
“Interesting.” Dr. Sugar approached with his black medical bag in hand. Beady eyes peered through his horn-rimmed glasses. The odor of death preceded him, a tainted blend of laboratory chemicals and cheap cigars. I winced at the pungent odors.
“Keep your distance.” I released the other wad of sand and hid my trembling hands in my lap. With jacked-up senses, I was a sponge for Dr. Sugar’s intellectual curiosity and Wayne’s sympathy and lust cocktail.
The coroner’s academic scrutiny unnerved me. No way would I submit to being a subject for a scientific paper.
And he wasn’t going to feel me up, either.
I had standards.
With that, I mentally dismissed the coroner and focused on the sheriff. His sympathy could be the leverage I needed to get out of there unmolested. Besides, he owed me for being his math tutor back in high school.
I pointed at Virg. “Your trigger-happy, mullet-headed deputy tasered me.” My voice quivered, but I didn’t care. “I’m gonna sue him, you, and the entire sheriff’s department.”
“Ooo-wie, Virg.” Ronnie grinned. “She’s gonna nail your hide to the wall.”
Virg’s eyes rounded, reminding me of a frenetic happy-face image on the Internet. “No need to get all riled up. I said I was sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it. Hand me the Taser and let me fry your gonads. That’s being sorry.”
Virg blanched and backed away. His hands cupped protectively over his fly. Wayne stepped in front of him. “Nobody’s going to taser anyone. How’d this happen?”
Curious. Wayne asked me instead of his deputy. Before I could get a word out, Virg answered. “She wouldn’t back off the scene. I told her to leave it alone.”
I glared a tree-sized hole through Wayne to Virg. “I told him that I had your permission. He shot me anyway. In the back. Let’s hope no little old ladies or children get in his way. He’ll shoot them, too.”
Virg struck a warrior’s pose with his weapon. “I am a lean, mean, fighting machine.”
“You’re another redneck with a gun.” I reached for my pendant and came up empty-handed. A gasp of surprise slipped through my lips. No wonder my senses were haywire.
“What? What now?” Wayne asked.
“My necklace. It’s gone.”
“And this is important?”
I nodded, tears springing to my eyes. “Roland gave it to me.” Which was true, but that wasn’t the only reason I needed my jewelry. “It must have fallen off over there.”
“Stay put. I’ll get it.”
Wayne dropped to one knee and retrieved it. He tossed the pendant to me and stared into the gaping hole. “Cripes. I’d hoped this was a bad dream.”
“Thanks.” I rubbed my thumb over the cool green stone. Moldavite, I’d been told. Roland had been pleased that I favored his gift.
Very pleased, until he’d gotten himself declared dead by the Army. Now I had no idea where he was or what had happened to him.
A calming sensation flowed through my veins, and with it came a sense of profound relief. The green stone wasn’t just a sentimental favorite. It had restored me after I’d had a brush with serial burglar Maisie Ryals, and now it was soothing the frazzle out of my nerves. My senses calmed, and I barricaded myself inside the safe zone.
The sheen fell off the day. Light waned to tolerable levels. Sounds muted. Emotional bombardment ceased. The sharp tang of men and death and forest receded. My tongue touched the place where I’d bitten my lip. I still tasted blood, but the taste no longer thrummed like hoofbeats through my thoughts.
I breathed easier.
“This isn’t a dream, but it isn’t a nightmare either.” I had information he wanted, information that Wayne didn’t expect me to have obtained. The corners of my lips turned up. The Taser may have shorted my circuits, but it didn’t erase my memory. I might land a job as a police consultant in spite of this disaster.
“Say what?” Wayne turned to face me, his dark brows beetling over his eyes. It should be illegal for men to have long, thick lashes like that.
“You remember our bargain?” I asked.
His features hardened. “What about it?” He waved the coroner over to the skull.
Virg and Ronnie inched forward on Dr. Sugar’s shiny heels. I guess Virg was worried I’d snatch his Taser and zap him because he kept Ronnie between us. As much as the thought of tasing Virg pleased me, the idea of additional income glittered brighter. I could do this psychic investigator gig as long as Virg wasn’t nearby with his Taser.
“You said if I helped you solve this case, I could work as a consultant for the sheriff’s office,” I said.
“You serious?” Wayne asked. “You got something on this victim?”
“Indeed I do. But I need assurances before we proceed. First off, no more tasing the consultant.”
“Done.”
“You could apologize for your staff.”
“Like hell. Virg was doing his job. All you had to do was wait until I got here for confirmation. This person’s been in the ground a long while. This isn’t an urgent matter. This case is cold. Very cold.”
He was right. I’d hurried because I was afraid I’d lose my nerve. I would be more patient next time. “It’s my professional opinion, as your consultant, that this woman wasn’t murdered.”
“You know it’s a woman?” He turned to Dr. Sugar. “Is she right, Doc? The vic a woman?”
“I won’t know for sure until we get the bones back to the lab,” Dr. Sugar said. “But you’re right about the duration. This person has been planted for some time. No soft tissue remains on the bones. No insect casings are apparent.”
My stomach lurched. I covered my mouth to hold the retching noise in. I wasn’t used to discussions of dead people, bones, and soft tissue. I glanced up to see Wayne staring at me, apparently considering his next move.
He rose and escorted me over to my truck. Opening the door, he maneuvered me into the driver’s seat. His gaze softened. “Let’s forget about the deal, babe. You’re not cut out for police work. Your first instinct on this was right. Stick to your plants and pets.”
His remarks infuriated me, especially since I needed this job. I was doing this. “The deal stands. One woman and two children are buried here. They used to live on this land.”
He studied me. “Foul play?”
“It didn’t feel that way. Just sad. Very sad.”
“You’re sure about this?”
He wanted to believe me. I concentrated on that and projected every bit of assurance into my answer. “Yes.”
He nodded. “You want one of us to take you home?”
Alarm flared, tamped down. “I can drive.” I gripped the steering wheel and stared through the bug-splattered windshield. The conversation had gone the way I’d hoped, but it felt unfinished. “Do I have a job?”
A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Can’t take intuition to court or even write it up in my report. Let’s see what Dr. Sugar learns, and I’ll call the historical society. Someone knows the history out here. But there’s good news.”
“There is?” Anticipation jetted through me. News? Would there be a reward or something? A cash payout for closing a case? I held my breath.
His lingering gaze swept my seated length. “You and I will be spending a lot of time together.”
“And?”
“And I know how to get to a woman. You’ll be in my bed before the week is out.”
My spine stiffened, my resolve strengthened. “That’s a bet you don’t wanna make. You’re dead wrong. I don’t date married men.”
“I’ll put my track record up against your
intuition
every time.”
I allowed a ghost of a smile to cross my lips. Wayne had no idea what he was up against. “You will, will ya? In that case, bet’s on.”
Tendrils of steam curled up from my mug. I inhaled deeply, warming my airways, restoring my sense of balance. How many times had I sat here in Mama’s kitchen trying to pull myself together?
From the gold stovetop to the white oven door and rusted refrigerator, this kitchen resembled an appliance orphanage. Most of the green paint was long gone from the tabletop; the shine had worn off the linoleum countertops. Sagging tie-dyed curtains added to the dated look of the room.
If one judged this place by appearance, as I had once done, one would be sadly mistaken. My parents didn’t cultivate the worn-out look; they were oblivious to it. They focused on intangibles.
Like the location of this house.
Daddy had hiked through a vast pine forest to select the perfect site for the house. My maternal grandmother said he was a kook because he could have built closer to the water, but he’d deemed this to be the spot. For many years she’d been outspoken about his folly, but in due time, she’d more than accepted his choice.
The pervading sense of calm and well-being in this house was a veritable chicken soup to the world weary. I’d benefited from this setting, and others had, too. For a kook, my father had darned good sense.
“Feeling better?” Thick, curly gray hair framed Mama’s thin face. Released from its braid, her gray locks roiled and sprang independently with each motion of her slender body. Concern radiated in her brown eyes. Wind chimes outside the kitchen window danced in the sunshine, a lilting discordant song heralding a strong onshore breeze.
I nodded. From the living room, the television blared on the weather station. I never knew why my parents insisted on the TV being turned on all the time, but that was an unwritten rule of the house. They’d long since tired of talk shows, soaps, and crime dramas. Now they exclusively tracked the weather.
“There’s a bad storm in Chicago.” Mama’s voice trembled as she spoke.
I bit my swollen lip. Why was Mama so worried about distant weather when I’d been through one heck of a personal storm? Was she afraid of what had happened to me?
“California is having a heck of a time recovering from the fires this past fall,” she continued. “Those people are in a world of hurt.”
I didn’t understand her conversational thread, nor did I want to. Even though I’d told the sheriff I had recovered, my nerves were still raw. The words rose in my throat and came out in a rush. “Virg shot me with a Taser gun.”
“He did?” Puzzlement creased her features. “He was such a nice boy. What’s gotten into him?”
I hoped she meant that as a rhetorical question. “The sheriff said he might hire me as a consultant if I help him close the case of the body I dug up. I tried a touch reading on the skull. I had regressed to the time when the bodies were buried when Virg zapped me with fifty-thousand volts of electricity.”
Mama’s knobby fingers worried over each other. “But you’re all right now?”
I nodded. “Getting there, thanks to you.”
“Your father sensed the disturbance.”
I blinked in surprise. “He did?”
She stared into her cup as if it contained the secrets of the universe. “He was working in the garden. Said it knocked him to his knees. Took him two cups of tea to get his color back.”
I drained my cup. “Then it looks like I’ve got another cup to go to catch up with him. Are you sure he didn’t mind meeting Larissa’s school bus?”
“He said he was fine, so he will be fine. But he needs to retire from the business. He can’t hold out until Larissa is ready to take over.”
My jaw clenched. “I can’t talk about this now.”
Daddy wanted me to step into his role as county dream-walker. A highly unprofitable volunteer effort with unpredictable hours. During my childhood, we’d had visitors at all hours of the day, from every walk of life, each wanting to communicate with their dead relatives. Daddy puttered around his herb garden during the day and dreamwalked for free at night.
I’d avoided this discussion with my father, and I didn’t want to have it with my mother. “Daddy could change his schedule. He could put the word out that he dreamwalks only one night a week now. Maybe he could locate everyone’s relatives in one dreamwalk, one-stop shopping, if you will.”
The phone rang. Mama ignored it. I half rose from my seat. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”
“Nope. It doesn’t feel right.”
I sank back down in my chair. “What if it’s Daddy or Larissa?”
“It isn’t. They would have called your phone first.”
Hmm. She was right. If Larissa needed me, she’d phone or text me right away. Still it worried me that the house line kept ringing. What if they’d won the lottery or something? “Don’t you want to know whose calling?”
“They will call back.” She refilled our mugs from the tea kettle on the stove.
I wished I had her sense of complacency. When Roland left on his Army missions, I’d dreaded and longed for every phone call and email. Sure enough, the day came when the call I received was very bad news. Roland was missing, presumed dead. Months later, the Army declared him dead, but according to my father, Roland wasn’t among the dead.
He still walked the earth.
I didn’t know why he stayed away from us, but I finally understood why his Army benefits were fouled up. They could hardly pay out death benefits for a guy who was still alive, could they? Someone in the Army knew the real story behind Roland’s disappearance. The only thing I could think of was that it was safer for all of us if Roland was officially dead. Which was a worrisome thought all on its own.
Mama handed me another cup of tea. I took it with a bone-deep sense of gratitude, savoring the warmth of the floral mug in my hands. “Thanks.”
“Tell me about your dreamwalk.”
“It wasn’t exactly a dreamwalk.”
“Oh?”
“I touched the remains, and time folded in on itself. Or at least that’s how it seemed to me. The people wore old-timey clothing like it was many years ago.”
“Did you hear anything?”
“Nope. Sound was dampened. I registered an overwhelming sense of sadness. I saw the man and woman burying a small child. The scene shifted, and I saw the man burying the woman with a baby in her arms.”
Mama’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Fascinating. And you experienced no spatial disorientation accessing the dream-scape?”
“There was some of that, but it wasn’t bad going in. Not like it was that time in Uncle Emerald’s chair. Or when I tried to find Roland two years ago. I got in, saw the events unfold, and I was headed out when I got tased.”