Nine Lives: A Lily Dale Mystery (25 page)

“I have to get back home, Luther. I can’t leave Max alone.”

“He isn’t. Pandora Feeney is with him and Jiffy.”

Well, speak of the devil. Except she isn’t the devil after all. She’s just a gossipy local biddy.

Maybe even a magical one, Bella thinks, remembering the bluebell.

“Why is
she
there?” she asks Luther, unsure whether to be dismayed or relieved at the news.

“You’ll have to ask her that. She’s the one who called me at the hospital and asked me to meet her at the house as soon as possible. She showed up just as your text came in, and I told her to stay so that—what’s the matter?” he asks, seeing the look on her face.

“It’s just . . . until we got up here and this happened,” she says as she gestures at Steve Pierson, “I thought Pandora was behind all this.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because I found this in my closet.” She pulls the distinctive floral print hair accessory from her pocket and shows it to him. He listens thoughtfully as she tells him about the secret passageway in her closet.

Two-faced Steve might have been guilty of one crime, but that doesn’t mean Pandora Feeney isn’t guilty of another.

“And now you’re telling me that she’s alone with my son, Luther. Just tell me whether she’s dangerous.”

He shakes his head vehemently. “Not the way you’re thinking, no.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, I may not always buy into this Spiritualism stuff, but . . . after all these years on the job, I’m pretty good at reading people. Especially around here. Some of them are the real deal. They really do know things they shouldn’t know, and they see things no one else can see.”

Yes. Leona did. And Bonnie, too.

“So you’re saying that Pandora knows things . . .”

And she sees things.

Sam.
She’s seen Sam.

“That’s what I’m saying, Bella. And that knowing, and seeing, can be dangerous.”

He’s right about that. But sometimes, it can save your life.

“Pandora had a premonition about Leona’s death months ago,” Luther tells her. “She tried to warn her, but like Odelia, Leona had no use for her. And likewise, I’m sure. Sometimes, living in such close quarters and isolated for so many months of the year, things can get a little bit dicey among the full-time residents around here. You know—typical small-town life.”

Yes. In a town that’s anything but typical.

“Anyway, when it happened, Pandora immediately suspected it wasn’t an accident. She knew better than to go to the police.”

“Because they wouldn’t take her seriously, or because they’d suspect her?”

“Both. She took it upon herself to investigate.”

“She’s been coming and going, then?”

“Yes. She told me about the secret stairway. There are a few of them, actually. She uncovered them when she was doing renovations years ago. They were built into the house during Prohibition.”

Ah—so Pandora’s bootleggers were authentic after all. And Pandora herself . . .

“Why?” Bella asks. “Why was she sneaking around the house?”

“She knew no one would believe her without evidence. She was trying to figure out motive and pinpoint a suspect.”

“You mean, her spirit guides didn’t give her that information?”

Luther matches Bella’s wry tone. “Sometimes, everyone has to rely on good old-fashioned investigation tactics. Even mediums.”

“Why did she call you over today, then? Had she figured out the truth about Steve?”

“No. She’d had a premonition about you. She thought you were in danger.”

“She was right.” She digests that for a long moment.

Hearing sirens and knowing they’re headed this way, she asks, “Can I go now? Or do you need me here?”

“The police will want to talk to you.”

“Is it going to take long?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then can I go home quickly first? I really need to hug my son.”

Luther hesitates, and his eyes are a little bright as he says, “Sure. It’s not as if we don’t know where to find you. Go hug your son.”

He’s thinking of his own mother, she knows. A mother who’s slipping away from her son moment by moment.

Poised to go, Bella asks one last question. “How’s your mom, Luther?”

“She’s hanging on.”

As is he, Bella knows. Even at his age, even after so many years together, he’s not ready to say good-bye.

That’s how it is when you’re losing someone you love. You hang on tightly for as long as you can. Even when it’s time to let go.

“Oh, and Bella? Don’t say anything to Eleanor Pierson. They’re on their way to the house to talk to her.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. Go ahead. Go home.”

She takes off down the trail, his last words dogging her.

She wants to go home so badly that she’s almost running, despite her aching ankle.

Running . . .

It nurtures the heart
and
the soul.

So said Eleanor Pierson, quoting her husband, who possesses neither of those things. What if Bella hadn’t grasped the truth about heartless, soulless Steve Pierson?

What if she hadn’t interpreted that keychain as a sign?

Then I would have been blindsided. I wouldn’t have survived.

Just this morning, she’d been wondering how, if everything happens for a reason, that rare kitten had managed to wind up in her care. Now she knows.

Really? So you think it all comes down to something mystical?

What about instinct?

She’s a mother. She’s been relying on instinct from the moment Max was born.

Luther relies on it as a detective, along with good old-fashioned investigation.

Where is the line between instinct and magic?

One is based in science, and the other is . . .

I don’t know. Right now, I don’t know, and I don’t care.

She bursts out of the woods onto the field and sees Luther’s blue Jeep parked nearby. She should have asked him for the keys.

She’ll just have to keep going on foot.

Going home.

Bella can hear the sirens falling away behind her as she races down narrow, muddy lanes, past rainbow houses washed clean beneath a chalky sky. She weaves around cars and pedestrians, splashes heedlessly into pothole puddles. The rain has stopped. The cool lake breeze is in her face and wind chimes tinkle pleasantly, dangling from gingerbread porches and leafy boughs in overcrowded gardens.

She reaches the auditorium. Its doors are propped open, people spilling forth to wander the streets once again. The ghost town has given way once again to the land of the living . . .

The living in search of the dead.

Bella, too, was searching when she arrived in Lily Dale.

But it wasn’t for someone she’s lost. She knows Sam is gone. He isn’t coming back. She’d like to believe he’s still out there somewhere. That he sent her that bluebell to let her know she isn’t alone. That he might even pop in sometime to say hello. But . . .

I won’t hold my breath for that.

It’s time to start breathing again. Time to let go.

She did come here searching for something she really can believe in. Something she’s lost, yes . . . but not
someone.

She rounds the corner and sees the big lavender house.

Home.

Where, if not here? If not this house, this town . . . with these people?

They’re all there on the front steps: Max, Jiffy, Odelia, Pandora, even Grant, and . . . Doctor Bailey?

Max spots her. “Mom! Where did you go?”

She swallows hard and shakes her head mutely, aware that everyone’s eyes are on her. She grabs Max and hugs him.

“You’re squishing me, by the way!”

At last, she’s able to make a sound. Laughter.

She lets Max go and looks around at the others. “What are you guys doing here?”

“I was just stopping by for a spot of tea,” Pandora says.

Yeah. Sure she was.

Odelia is nodding. “And I saw her through the window and thought I’d come over and join you.”

No, she was keeping an eye on things, wary of Pandora.

As for Doctor Bailey—“I just wanted to check on the kittens and drop off more formula. I thought maybe you could use it. And I brought over that book about hand-rearing kittens. I forgot to give it to you. Oh, and a scale so that I can weigh them and make sure they’re eating enough. Especially our boy Spidey.”

“I didn’t realize you made house calls.”

“I don’t, usually. But I figured you might have your hands pretty full around here.”

“I do,” she admits, knowing he has his hands full as well. But today, dressed casually in jeans and a chambray button-down shirt, he seems much more relaxed than he did in his office.

She points him up the stairs to the Rose Room, telling him she’ll join him up there shortly. It’s almost time to feed the kitten again.

“Isn’t he a splendid chap?” Pandora asks when he’s gone.

They all agree that he is—even Odelia, who isn’t particularly prone to agree with anything Pandora says.

Grant merely fiddles with his car keys and says, “He’s all right.”

“Are you on your way out?” Bella asks him.

“I was just about to take my car through the car wash now that the rain has stopped.”

“Which seems like a waste of time and money to me,” Odelia puts in, “since the rain washes the car.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of acid rain?” Grant asks her. “The residue is bad for the finish. You should always wash your car after the rain.”

“My car? Have you
seen
my car?” She cracks a smile. “I think residue is all that’s holding it together.”

“Mom, Mr. Grant wants me and Jiffy to go to the car wash with him. Can we?”

“Oh, I don’t think he needs company to go to the car wash, Max.”

“Yes, he does. He invited us!”

“I really did invite them,” Grant says with a smile. “But Max told me he couldn’t go without permission, and he didn’t know where you were.”

“I thought maybe you were playing hide-and-seek with us,” Max tells her. “I
hate
that game, by the way. And I hate the basement.”

“Me, too,” Jiffy agrees. “Except we have to go back down there to get the laptop, because mine is broken and I need one.”

“Laptop?” Bella asks. “There’s a laptop in the basement?”

“Yes, and I hate the basement, but I need to go get it. Oh, and I hate that guy, too, by the way,” Jiffy adds.

“Which guy?” Grant looks around. “Doctor Bailey?”

“No! The hide-and-seek guy!”

“I hate him, too. But I love Doctor Bailey!” Max speaks up. “He saves puppies and kittens.”

“I love him, too,” Jiffy agrees. “And I love puppies and kittens. I’m getting a puppy this summer. My mom said I can, to keep me out of trouble while she’s working.”

“Can we get a puppy, too, Mom? To keep me out of trouble?”

Bella smiles wearily. “Don’t you think a cat and eight kittens are enough?”

“I need a puppy, too. And I need to go with Mr. Grant to the car wash. Can I?”

Knowing it’s best to get him away from the house for a while, Bella agrees.

“Yay! Let’s go!” Jiffy says, eager to hop into the red sports car.

“First, you need to go ask your mom, too,” Odelia tells him.

“She won’t care. She lets me do whatever I want.”

That seems to strike a chord with Grant, who rests a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “No one gets to do whatever they want. Come on, let’s go talk to her.”

As they disappear down the street, Bella sees a police car turn the corner. It rolls slowly toward them, crunching on gravel.

Pandora, too, sees it coming. “I think I’ll go inside and brew some tea. I’m sure there must be some Yorkshire Gold Leaf in the pantry.”

Predictably, Odelia trails her into the house, saying, “I’m sure there isn’t.”

The door closes behind them, and Bella turns back to Max, wondering whether he’s noticed the approaching police car.

He hasn’t. He’s facing the park at the opposite end of the street.

“Mom, look!” He points. “Do you see it?”

“The lake?”

“No, the rainbow.”

She searches the gray sky above the water. There are a few breaks in the clouds where patches of blue are starting to burst through the gloom, but no rainbow.

“I don’t see it, Max.”

“Well, it’s there.”

Somehow, she doesn’t doubt that for a moment.

July 4

Standing in the kitchen window washing the last of the breakfast things, Bella can see the sun valiantly attempting to peek through the low lake sky.

At the table behind her, Max and Jiffy are in the midst of a surprisingly rousing game of Candyland with the St. Clair sisters, who showed up just as the boys were begging Bella to join in.

“Candyland?” Ruby exclaimed. “It’s our favorite game!”

“Candyland was around when you were kids?” Max asked in surprise.

“Oh, my, no. Not until we were grown.”

“But we play it nearly every night back home,” Opal added. “It’s great fun. Do you mind if we join you?”

“Only four people can play,” Jiffy told her. “We already have three.”

“You can take my place,” Bella said quickly, and after a short argument between the elderly women—both of whom wanted to be the red piece—the game was under way.

That freed up Bella to put the breakfast room and kitchen back in order and mull over all that’s happened since Lieutenant Grange showed up yesterday to escort Eleanor Pierson away.

As they left, Bella could hear her asking, “It’s Steve, isn’t it? Something terrible has happened to Steve.”

She was right, of course. Perhaps something more terrible than her wildest imagination could fathom. It’s going to be a long road back for her.

Eleanor has since been told about April, her husband’s longtime mistress, and Paris, his five-year-old daughter with her. He’d set them up in an apartment in Boston and had been living a double life for years—all the more reason he was worried about his financial situation.

Last night at the precinct, after lengthy hours of being questioned by the police—as a witness, not a suspect—Bella was able to hear the audio recording of Eleanor’s last telephone reading with Leona. It was discovered on Leona’s laptop, which, thanks to Max and Jiffy, Bella had found stashed on a cobwebby shelf in the basement and handed over to the authorities.

They didn’t have to let her hear it, she knows. It was a courtesy they’d extended via Luther.

The reading didn’t just bring closure but gave her a glimpse into how the Lily Dale mediums communicate with their clients—and, if you choose to believe, with the dead.

Do I believe that’s what they’re doing?

Or do I believe in coincidences?

Those are the questions Bella has been asking herself since yesterday.

It’s not as though she’s seen any hard evidence. If she searches hard enough, she may very well find logical explanations for all the strange things that have been happened since she arrived here. For the moment, though, she’s suspended the search.

She was astounded by accuracy with which Leona delivered the information. It came at the end of a long reading that was filled with information about personal things Eleanor may or may not have previously shared with Leona.

The medium knew, for example, that there was a baby on the way and was feeling “female energy attached to it.” Whether that’s accurate remains to be seen. She talked about the importance of taking some time off—which most teachers do in the summer. She repeatedly stressed the importance of Eleanor getting plenty of rest, because “Spirit is showing me that you’re overextended.”

Who isn’t?
Bella found herself thinking, unimpressed with the reading at that point, feeling a familiar tide of skepticism washing over her.

Then it came.

“I’m getting something about Paris,” Leona’s voice said. “It’s very important. I don’t know if you’ve been to Paris recently, or maybe you have plans?”

“No,” Eleanor replied. “Not at all.”

“Europe, then?”

“No. I’ve never been to Europe. I’ve always wanted to go, but it’s too expensive. We can’t afford it. Anyway, I’ve heard that they don’t like Americans in Paris, so that’s not even at the top of my list. Maybe they mean Rome? Or Venice? That’s where I’d really love to go.”

“No. It’s Paris. Spirit is very persistent.” Long pause. “Paris. And something about the spring? April and Paris.”

“Paris in April . . . isn’t that a song?” Eleanor asked. “Steve will know. He’s right here. Do you know—”

She was cut off by a rumble of male voice in the background.

“Steve says it’s a song. But it doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“That’s what I’m getting. Paris. April.” Leona sounded like she was listening to someone and relaying their messages. “April. April. Eleanor, Spirit just won’t let go of this. Does the month of April have any significance to you?”

“Other than my twenty-fifth wedding anniversary?” Eleanor’s voice laughed. “Honey? I think Spirit just blew your surprise. Are you planning to take me to Paris in April?”

Again, the male voice.

Steve, denying it.

Was that the moment when he’d realized Leona was a threat?

From his hospital bed, recovering from the superficial bullet wound to his leg, he’d confessed to killing her. He’d sneaked into the bathroom and knocked her unconscious, then carried her out to the lake and dropped her in.

He was Jiffy’s pirate.

I saw it, too,
Bella knows now.
The first part, in the bathroom. I saw how it happened, what she was doing, how she felt.

Was she channeling Leona’s spirit?

Someday, she might get the chance to speak to Bonnie Barrington for more details about her own experience with that. Bonnie has yet to regain consciousness, but her condition has been upgraded from critical, and she’s expected to pull through. She can’t have visitors yet, but whenever she can, Bella will be there.

Last night, she called Millicent to say that she and Max won’t be spending the summer in Chicago after all.

“I’ve found a temporary job here in western New York,” she told her mother-in-law.

“Doing what?”

“Managing an inn.”

There was a long silence as Millicent digested the news. “That’s great, Isabella. Will it lead to something full time?”

“It’s just for the summer.” Grant had told her this morning that he’ll pay her—very well—if she’ll keep the place up and running for the rest of the season. She’d be a fool not to take him up on the offer.

He didn’t mention September. Neither did she, no longer concerned with what the future might bring. Not the distant future, anyway.

Right now, the only prediction she cares about is the weather.

In keeping with the meteorological forecast of a dazzling Fourth of July, the day had dawned with golden promise. Now, however, the morning sunshine has turned thin and filmy.

It doesn’t bode well for Odelia’s barbecue this afternoon. Yesterday, she’d invited everyone at the guesthouse to join the party, and they’d all said yes. Even Grant.

She’d included Pandora, who had agreed to come, too, but only after mentioning that it’s hardly her favorite holiday.

“Still loyal to the crown?” Odelia had asked. “Or do you have something against sparklers and hot dogs?”

“I
adore
sparklers and hot dogs,” she returned, and launched into a diatribe against the American Revolution.

Odelia nipped it in the bud. “Let’s put it to rest, Pandora. The war ended hundreds of years ago.”

Bella half expected Odelia to add that she was there when it happened, but for once, she refrained from bringing up her past lives.

“Just join us, Pandora. It’s going to be a spectacular day.”

“I never pay attention to weather forecasts.”

“I’m not talking about the weather. Rain or shine, we’ll be celebrating freedom,” Odelia said firmly, with a meaningful nod at Bella.

How about rain
and
shine? At the moment, the sun is still peeking out, but it’s started to sprinkle.

Rainbow weather.

Max insisted he saw one yesterday, but it eluded her. Now finishing up with the dishes, she finds herself searching the sky above the lake. Nope. Nothing but clouds and sun. Rain and shine.

That’s okay. I’ll take it.

“Oh, no! Mom!”

Bella turns to see Max, wide-eyed, clutching a crimson-stained napkin against his mouth.

“What happened?”

“My tooth!”

His tooth.

Thank goodness. Thank goodness.

Bella hurries to his side and gently tips his head back. “Here, open your mouth. Let’s see.”

“But I swallowed it.”

“Just like you said,” Jiffy tells him admiringly. “On the Fourth of July.”

That gives Bella pause.

Do I believe in coincidences?

“No, that’s mine!” Opal St. Clair is insisting to her sister. “Bella, dear, tell Ruby that it’s mine.”

“Your what?”

“My red piece, right there in the Lollipop Woods. She thinks it’s hers.”

“I’m red, because it matches my name.”

“No, you’re yellow.”

“Yellow doesn’t match. My name isn’t yellow.”

“It isn’t red, either.”

“If I’m not in the Lollipop Woods,” Ruby says, “then where am I?”

“But by the way,” Jiffy tells Max, “the tooth fairy won’t come if you swallow your tooth.”

“Yes, she will. My mom says. Right, Mom?”

“The tooth fairy will come no matter what,” she assures Max.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. She pops in here all the time to, you know, hike the Fairy Trail.”

“The Fairy Trail! That’s it.” Ruby studies the game board and then looks up, confused. “Where is the Fairy Trail, dear?”

“I think you’re still back there in the Peppermint Forest,” Max tells Ruby.

Noting that it’s time to feed little Spidey again, Bella leaves her son grinning a happy, gappy grin and makes her way back through the quiet house.

Doctor Bailey had been pleased yesterday to see that the little kitten is thriving and that Chance hasn’t rejected him.

“She’s an unusual cat,” he commented as he packed up his scale and instruments.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Bella replied.

But at least she doesn’t walk through walls.

Doctor Bailey promised he’d be back to check on the kittens again later today.

“On a holiday? Is that necessary?” she asked, worried that the kitten might not be doing quite as well as he’d implied.

When he assured her that it
is
necessary—and that he doesn’t have other plans anyway—she found herself wondering whether he’s simply the most conscientious veterinarian in the world or looking for something to do on this first holiday of summer.

Maybe a little bit of both. Maybe something more, too.

Before he left, Odelia managed to invite him to the barbecue.

He accepted immediately.

Doctor Bailey . . .

Grant . . .

Bella isn’t sure how she feels about that.

As she starts up the stairs, she sees that sunlight is falling through the stained-glass window. Multicolored light arcs across the landing.

There. She got her rainbow after all.

Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe it means that everything is going to be—

Her foot catches a stair tread.

She falls forward.

So much for signs,
Bella thinks wryly, sprawled on her hands and knees.
I really hope that wasn’t—

Wait a minute.

The landing’s hardwood floor, now just inches from her face, is . . .

Off.

One of the cracks between the floorboards is a little too wide.

Heart pounding, she looks for evidence of a hidden latch or hinge. Finding nothing, she feels her way along both sides of the crack, pressing, probing. Nothing happens.

She hurries back to the kitchen.

“What are you doing, Mom?” Max looks up from the game as she jerks open a drawer and fumbles around inside. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Grabbing a butter knife, she races back to the landing. With a trembling hand, she slides the tip into the space between the floorboards. She runs it along the length of the crack, jiggling it back and forth.

Nothing happens.

This isn’t like the closet. No hidden panel swings open or springs toward her.

Maybe she was wrong.

As she pulls the knife out of the slot between the floorboards, she sees one of them rise. Just a little—but enough.

She jams the knife back into the crack and begins to pry.

It isn’t easy. She has to wiggle and tug for a long time before anything happens.

At last, it comes free: a rectangular wedge of wood camouflaged as floorboards.

Beneath lies a shallow hidden compartment.

Probably empty
, she thinks, as she pokes her hand into the shadows. Or maybe she’ll find a ninety-year-old bootleg stash.

But there’s a box inside.

A small box that fits into the palm of her hand. It’s wrapped in white paper imprinted with golden angels and tied with a blue ribbon.

Slowly, she tears it away and lifts the cardboard lid.

Inside, on a rectangle of cotton, is a necklace.

A delicate tourmaline pendant that exactly matches the color of her eyes.

There is no wilted bluebell tucked beneath the ribbon.

It doesn’t come with a note from Sam.

It isn’t even a Christmas present. Not really.

No
, she thinks as she fastens the chain around her neck,
it’s an Independence Day present
.

She smiles through a flood of tears, tilting her face upward, bathed in rainbow light falling through the circular window.

“Thanks, Sam.”