Spirited Away

by Lena Gregory

  “Cass, I mean it.”

  “Okay, Luke. I will. I promise.” She disconnected the call and looked at Bee, reeling from the urgency in Luke’s tone.

  He glanced at her. “What’s going on?”

  “I have no idea, but whatever it is, it can’t be good.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  When Bee pulled up in front of Dreamweaver, Tank and Luke jumped out of an unmarked car and jogged toward them.

  Cass froze with her hand on the door handle.

  “Why are they running?” Bee made no move to get out of the car.

  “I don’t know.”

  Luke reached her door and opened it. “Come on inside.”

  Tank guided Bee out of the car and followed him to the shop door, his head swiveling between Bee, Cass, and both ends of the street.

  Cass followed Bee into the shop, but the instant Luke closed the door behind her and Bee locked it at Tank’s instruction, Cass turned on them. “What is going on? And I don’t want to hear you’ll tell me after anything else. I want an answer.”

  “A woman named Olivia Wells was found dead tonight.”

  Bee gasped.

  Cass staggered back. She should have done more to warn her. The image of the woman lying on the ground surrounded by a fan of dark hair assailed her. “Was she on the yacht?”

  “No. In the woods beside Emmett’s garage. I’ll explain what happened with the yacht after.” Luke held out a plastic evidence bag with a paper inside. “Did you know Olivia Wells?”

  “Uh . . .” Cass took the bag from him and turned it over in her hands. The familiar color blobs Cass had made while doing Olivia’s reading stared back at her. She tried to tell herself she’d made every attempt to warn Olivia of the potential danger she was in, but had she really done all she could?

  “Cass.” Luke tapped the bag she still clutched in her shaking hands. “Do you know her?”

  “I do.” And I should have saved her. I should have worked harder to find her.

  “How?” Though his eyes held some measure of sympathy, his tone demanded answers.

  “I gave her a reading earlier today. Or, I guess, yesterday now.”

  “Was that the first time you’d seen her?”

  Bee moved beside Cass and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, then shot Luke a warning glare. “It’s okay, Cass. Why don’t you come sit down?”

  Cass moved automatically toward a chair behind the counter with Bee. “Thanks, Bee.”

  “Of course, dear. Sit. Do you need anything?”

  “No, thank you.” What she needed most was a moment to collect herself, and he’d given her that. “I’m good now, Bee. Thank you.”

  He nodded and took a step back but still hovered.

  Luke crouched in front of her chair. “I need you to tell me what you know, okay, Cass?”

  “Yes, I’m okay now. I’m sorry, the news just came as a shock.” And brought with it a wave of guilt so horrendous she’d thought it might drown her. “Olivia Wells came to my reading the other night. When I inadvertently embarrassed Aiden Hargrove, Olivia is the woman I thought he was in love with.”

  Luke flipped through his notebook. “Didn’t Hargrove bring a date?”

  “Yes.” Could Aiden have killed Olivia? But what purpose would that serve? “Nanette Coldwater, who came to see me the following morning. Monday. She was his date.”

  He lay a hand on her knee. “Tell me what happened.”

  She relayed the events of that evening, even though they must have heard them a thousand times after Dirk had been found. “Then, Nanette came into the shop, and when she left, she was angry, very angry. She said she was going to Aiden and Olivia and demanding answers.”

  “Do you think she confronted Olivia?” Tank leaned over Luke’s shoulder.

  “I know she did. Olivia said as much when she came in for her reading yesterday.” Though she hadn’t seemed too concerned about the confrontation.

  Tank straightened and wrote something in his notepad. “Did she say if Nanette was still angry when she’d confronted her or what she told her?”

  “No. Olivia simply said she’d told Nanette the truth, but she didn’t elaborate.”

  “The reading is where you did this coloring?” Luke indicated the bag she’d placed on the counter when she sat down.

  “Yes, the individual reading I did for her.” She told him everything she could remember telling Olivia. “And toward the end of the reading, a shadow crossed my vision.”

  Luke’s gaze crashed into hers. At least he understood the implication, since it wasn’t the first time a shadow had preceded a death.

  “When I tried to warn her to be careful, she told me I was the one who needed to be careful and that I’d fallen right into his master plan.”

  Luke frowned. “Whose master plan?”

  “I have no idea. She wouldn’t elaborate.”

  “Did she say anything to indicate she was afraid?” Tank asked.

  Cass was already shaking her head. “Nothing.”

  “Okay. What else can you tell me?”

  “Nothing I can think of.” She racked her memory, but nothing stood out. They already knew everything else that had gone on.

  “You’re going to have to be careful, Cass.” Luke’s strength seeped into her as he took her ice-cold hands in his warmer ones. “It’s very early in the investigation, but so far, we haven’t been able to find any connection between Dirk Brinkman and Olivia Wells except for your reading on Sunday night.”

  “You think someone is targeting Cass’s customers?” Bee wrung his hands together.

  Luke nodded. “We think it’s a good possibility.”

  “But for what purpose?” If Luke was right, she would have to cancel the reading she had scheduled for Friday night. Otherwise, she’d be painting targets on the backs of a roomful of people.

  “Who knows? You said Malcolm King is back in town and threatening to ruin you. Aiden Hargrove is certainly out to cause you trouble. And, by all accounts, Jay Callahan is back on Bay Island. I don’t need to remind you of the implications his presence brings.”

  No, he didn’t. Yet another man who blamed her for his poor choices. Like it was her fault he’d committed any number of crimes then had to run when multiple warrants were issued for his arrest. Just because Cass had been instrumental in proving his guilt didn’t mean she was at fault for his bad decisions.

  “And don’t forget Bruce Brinkman is back in town.” Bee’s cheeks flared red. “I mean, well, not that he’d have any reason to harm Olivia Wells, but you said she was found by Emmett’s, which is also by the hotel, and Cass and I saw Bruce at the hotel when we went by there earlier.”

  Bee’s gaze slid to Cass, a discreet reminder of whom else they’d seen by the hotel. Emmett, sneaking in the service entrance. Thankfully, he remained silent.

  Luke wrote something in his notepad, then looked over his shoulder at Tank. “Can you think of anything else?”

  Tank held his gaze a moment longer than necessary before shaking his head. “Not right now.”

  Something was brewing between the two. Though their tension was warranted under the circumstances, Cass couldn’t help but think there was more going on than they were saying.

  Someone knocked on the shop door.

  Luke used the key Bee had left hanging from the lock to unlock the door, then opened it and stopped short. “What are you doing here?”

  An older, handsome woman with striking features and wearing a navy blue suit, despite the heat and the late hour, leaned a hip against the front window ledge, arms folded across her chest. “Is that any way to address your commanding officer?”

  “I’m sorry.” Luke nodded toward her. “What are you doing here, ma’am?”

  Chief Rawlins made an imposing figure standing toe to toe with Luke. “Good evening, Cass.”

  “Good evening, Chief Rawlins.” Cass had met her before, and she’d seemed nice enough at the time, even insinuated she’d worked
with psychics in the past.

  “I’d like a word, if you have a moment.” Her tone, despite the laid-back Southern social grace, indicated she was going to have that word regardless of whether or not Cass had a moment. And no matter how Luke felt about it.

  Luke sighed and stepped aside.

  Confused, Cass waited for him to send her some sort of signal, but he remained silent, so she returned her attention to Chief Rawlins. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’ve come to ask what Luke and Tank won’t.”

  That piqued her curiosity. “What’s that?”

  She ignored the question and gestured for Cass to sit. “What made you ask Luke to check out that yacht sitting off the island?”

  Luke and Tank hadn’t yet told her what they’d found on the yacht but, apparently, they’d found something. “I don’t know, honestly. It just occurred to me that something wasn’t right about it.”

  “When was that?”

  She glanced at Luke from the corner of her eye, but when no help was forthcoming, she answered the question as best she could. “A woman came to see me. Rosa Dupree. While I was doing her reading, a series of images flashed through my mind; the yacht was one of them.”

  Chief Rawlins pulled up a chair and sat directly across from Cass. “What other images did you see?”

  “The figurine Rosa was searching for, then the yacht, then a woman with dark hair fanned around her lying on a floor. Is that how Olivia Wells was found?”

  “No.” Chief Rawlins frowned, deep furrows creasing her forehead. “If I’m not mistaken, her hair was up, though some tendrils had escaped.”

  Cass shook her head. That wasn’t right, not what she’d seen. “The image I saw was hazy, but I’m certain a mass of frizzy or wavy brown hair surrounded the woman.”

  The chief’s gaze held Cass’s, steady, confident, never wavering for an instant. “Then I do believe we have a problem, ma’am.”

  The knowledge poured through her even as Chief Rawlins uttered the words.

  “Unless we can figure this out, I fear there’s going to be another victim.”

  Cass shared the chief’s concerns, but she wasn’t sure why she was sharing them with Cass rather than a roomful of detectives.

  “If Olivia Wells wasn’t found on the yacht, can you tell me what was?” Because she had a sneaking suspicion it had everything to do with why Chief Rawlins was sitting across from her.

  She pursed her lips, sat back, and crossed one leg over the other. “Rosa Dupree’s missing figurine for one.”

  “You found it?” A small niggle of joy surfaced, but it didn’t last long.

  “Among other things.” The chief nodded once. “You pretty much broke our art theft case wide open. But there was no one on board.”

  Luke and Tank shared a look Cass couldn’t interpret.

  “Apparently, the thieves were storing the artwork they’d stolen on the yacht until they could transport it wherever it was headed, which we have people looking into.”

  Although that was certainly good news, she was missing something. “So, what would you like me to do?”

  Chief Rawlins clasped her hands around her knee. “I’m hoping you’ll agree to try to contact whatever or whomever reached out to you before in an effort to figure out who the woman from your vision is before anything happens to her.”

  “Wait, what?” Bee stood up straighter. “Are you talking about like a séance or something?”

  To her credit, Chief Rawlins appraised Bee quickly, apparently recognized his fear, and nodded. “Or something.”

  Bee smiled. “Well, it sure has been nice havin’ y’all in for a visit.”

  “Bee—” Cass started.

  He held up a hand in protest. “Cass, you know I love you, and I’ll do anything I can to help. I’ll even come to Mystical Musings and assist with your séance in any way I can in order to try to save whomever it is you’re seeing, but you are not contacting anything otherworldly from my shop. Period.”

  “But—”

  He ushered them all toward the door. “Besides, you don’t have any of your voodoo stuff here, anyway.”

  That was true, though she wouldn’t refer to it as voodoo stuff. Besides, she’d never put Bee in a position that would make him uncomfortable. At least, not that uncomfortable. “Bee’s right. I do have tools I could use at the shop.”

  Bee mouthed Thank you.

  Of course, she had no real clue how to go about contacting the dead. It’s not like she could just ask a question and a ghost would answer. Most often, the dead reached out to her when she was just about to fall asleep or was lost in her crystal ball. Somehow, going to the shop and taking a nap didn’t quite seem like what Chief Rawlins had in mind. But she’d had luck with the crystal ball, so maybe she’d try that.

  She waited while Bee locked up, thankful for a few minutes to decide how best to proceed. With Luke and Tank flanking her, Bee walking just behind her, and Chief Rawlins bringing up the rear, they headed down the boardwalk like some kind of somber parade. Not exactly inconspicuous if someone was watching them.

  Bee leaned close to her ear. “Thank you.”

  “Sure.” She searched the boardwalk for any sign of a stalker.

  “And for the record, you are going to look amazing in that blue negligee.”

  Cass groaned. How could she argue? Bee attending a séance was no less uncomfortable for him than modeling his new lingerie line would be for her. Now she was going to have to spend the rest of the summer watching what she ate and somehow squeeze in time to get a tan.

  As soon as they arrived at Mystical Musings, Cass lit a white candle and set it on the table, then settled in her chair with Bee and Chief Rawlins on either side of her. The candle flames flickered, reflecting in her crystal ball’s depths.

  The floor creaked beneath Luke’s weight as he paced the front of the shop, stopping every so often to peer out the window.

  Tank’s mumbled voice intruded on her concentration as he spoke into his phone, his voice too low for her to make out the words.

  Chief Rawlins remained quiet, her silence as distracting as Bee’s harsh breathing.

  Cass tried to block everything out, to focus on the task at hand, but each sound came to her magnified by the weight of this moment’s importance. If she couldn’t get her act together, a woman might die.

  Okay, she could do this. But instead of using the crystal ball, she dug through her bag and pulled out the crystals she’d found in the register. Setting the black tourmaline aside on the table, she focused on the fire agate, staring deep into its core.

  An image formed, hazy at first, insubstantial. A woman. The same woman? She tried not to project her expectations into the vision, instead waiting for the image to come to her. The woman lay on something gray. Concrete, maybe? Or it could be a carpet. The background remained fuzzy.

  She tried to center her focus on the woman. Her long dark hair spread around her, the same as it had last time, covering her face, hiding any features Cass might use to identify her.

  A chair scraped as Chief Rawlins stood and approached Tank, then whispered something in his ear.

  He nodded and returned to his call.

  Cass closed her eyes. She could do this. She had to do this. The woman floated in her mind. Dark hair. Something familiar about her.

  “Help her.”

  “Tanya?” Cass concentrated on the voice, blocking out everything going on around her. The rest of the world ceased to exist as she focused on the woman lying on the floor. “You have to help me. I don’t know how to find her.”

  A rush of adrenaline shot through her. Her own anxiety? She didn’t think so. Tanya’s maybe?

  “Help her.”

  As much as it seemed Tanya wanted to help, her abilities were apparently limited.

  Cass searched the vision. How could she find her? There was nothing in the background to indicate where she was. Nothing stood out about the woman. She wore black slacks, a pink blouse. Busi
ness attire, maybe. Not dressy. Black shoes, though the edges of the vision were too murky to make out the style.

  Someone stood behind her, a man’s slacks. She refocused her attention on him, sliding her gaze up. She couldn’t reach his face. His hands moved, and she shifted her attention to them, watched as he twirled his pinky ring around and around his finger.

  A glint of light flashed in Cass’s eyes, blinding her for an instant. Her gaze shot to the woman’s hand lying next to her head. To her wedding ring. Cass shifted all of her focus to the ring. A double gold band, the engagement ring set between them. Familiar. She knew that ring. Her blood ran cold. “Stephanie!”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “Stephanie?” Tank whirled toward her. “Where?”

  Cass’s eyes shot open and she jumped from the chair. “It’s Stephanie. The woman in my vision.”

  Luke was at her side in an instant. “Are you sure, Cass?”

  “I’m positive. As soon as I saw her wedding ring, I knew.” She rummaged through her bag for her cell phone, then searched for Stephanie’s number, her hands shaking violently. “And I think Calvin Morris is the one who has her.”

  “She’s not answering.” Tank ran for the front door.

  Luke kissed her head, then glanced at Chief Rawlins.

  “Go, I’ll stay here.”

  He ran out after Tank.

  Cass waited through five rings then got Stephanie’s voice mail. She hung up and dialed again.

  “Someone, lock that front door, please.” Chief Rawlins barked orders into the phone.

  “You have to do something. She’s not answering.” Cass disconnected and dialed again.

  Bee locked the front door, then leaned his back against it, gaze locked on his phone as he dialed.

  “I already have officers en route to the house. Do you know if that’s where she’s supposed to be?” The chief typed frantically into her phone.

  “No.”

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  Bee straightened and jammed his phone into his pocket. “At lunch. She got a call, said she was going to meet with Morris.”

  “Full name?”