He nodded. “You can thank me down the road, when you’ve cut your grocery bill down. I also advise shopping with coupons.”
“I’m sure you do,” I said. “Listen, I want to talk to you about the attempt on your life. I’m still trying to track down the being who wants you dead.”
“I know; of course you are,” he said. “You want the bag of gold.” He pulled it from his pocket, jiggled it in front of my face so I could hear the coins click and clack against one another, and then slipped it back out of sight in his ratty pocket.
I nodded. “Yes, I have to admit I do,” I said. “I could use the money. But more importantly, I want to help you. I think you might still be in danger. Have you noticed any funny business around you? Anyone following you around, or maybe things moved in your room?”
He furrowed his bushy brows and stroked his chin. “Funny you should mention things being moved,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I did notice some of my papers were out of order. I keep all of my accounting paperwork with me, so that I can look over it with an eye for unnecessary expenses that I can cut. That’s one of my favorite activities, you see. I was on page three of my expenses printout, from the peanut factory. I was just trying to figure out how to cut costs on the type of glue we use to seal the bags of peanuts together. I set aside my work, and when I returned, page four was on the top of the stack. That was very strange, because I was on page three.”
That must be the paperwork that I saw Hal sifting through, I thought.
It certainly didn’t strike me as a life or death issue, though. I was more concerned about The Miser’s safety than his budget paperwork, so I went on.
“Anything else out of place?” I asked. “You don’t leave open bottles of drinks around, or pills that could be tampered with, do you?”
He shook his head. “No, I only drink tap water,” he said. “It’s cheaper than bottled drinks. And I don’t bother with medicine. Too expensive. I don’t have a cent to waste on pills. I don’t go for doctor’s visits, either. The prices these days are astronomical!”
“Well, please be careful about what you eat and drink,” I said. “If you do leave a glass of tap water sitting around, don’t drink it if it’s been unattended. I think I saw someone break into your room last night.”
“And you’re telling me this now?” he said in a raised voice. His eyes bugged out. “Who? When?”
“It was last night around eleven,” I said. “You were over in your brother’s suite. The guy who broke in is one of the guests here. I’ll let you know when I have more information.”
He shook his head with disapproval. “Unbelievable. What kind of a place are you running here?”
“A healing center,” I mumbled. At the moment, it didn’t seem that my accommodations were all that healing.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have.” My voice was tentative. I deserved to be scolded. I should have told him earlier; I’d just been so busy and overwhelmed. It was hard to prioritize what was important, and what was not.
“I dug up something else, too,” I said. “Polly spends the night away from home once a month, and lies about her whereabouts. Do you know anything about that?”
“Who told you that?” The Miser growled, as his pale face became beet red. “That is family business. It stays within the family! June told you, didn’t she? Why that little brat!”
I stepped back. I don’t like to be around anger, and I felt waves of upset coming off of The Miser. They affected me. “I didn’t say anything about June,” I said. “Please calm down. This is important. It might have something to do with the motive of whoever wants you dead. What do you know about Polly’s behavior?”
“Why should I tell you?” he asked.
“Because I’m trying to help you,” I said. “If you found out about Polly’s affair, and you are about to tell your brother about it, that might give Polly a motive to kill you. I just want to—”
“Just leave Polly out of it!” he shouted. Then he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.
I watched him go. I felt my whole body try to get rid of his negative energy. I shook myself a little, like I was trying to shake off drops of water after getting out of a pool. I rolled my shoulders around, and then did a few head rolls. I shrugged my shoulders and let them hang down. Then I swiveled my hips. Finally, my body felt normal again.
Whew, that was intense! I thought.
I stared at the door that The Miser had left through.
He really blew his lid when I brought up Polly. Why?
His parting words struck me as odd. Leave Polly out of it. Was he trying to protect her? Did he care about Polly more than he should?
Was The Miser the mysterious man that Polly was having an affair with? And if so, how did that fit in with my case?
Nothing seemed to add up. I had a lot of clues, but none of them fit together. On top of it all, I had an afternoon of massage work ahead. I couldn’t even pass them off to Margie, because she was booked up, too.
If I was going to do the physical work of massage for five hours straight, I had to fuel up. It was time for lunch.
Chapter Eleven
Part of me was hoping that my massage clients might also happen to be suspects in the case, but I was not so lucky. I gave two ninety-minute massages, and two hour-long massages. All were to guests who seemed very apathetic towards my investigation. Even when I tried to bring it up, they didn’t have information to share. So after a few attempts with each I just let it go and focused on my healing work.
After the massages, I spent some time in the mud bath rooms, setting up crystal grids around the tubs. I was intuitively guided to set up a grid for abundance in the communal mud bath room. A few of the private baths were booked for the five o’clock hour. I met with the guests who had made the bookings, and tried to feel into what kind of minerals they needed to soak in.
The first was a vampire gentleman who was wound up super tight. I could feel a buzzing energy of stress coming off of him in pulsing waves. I filled his bath with relaxing minerals, like lithium and magnesium. The second was booked by a meek merwoman whose energy was constricted. I concocted an energizing blend that was designed to give an expansive feeling of power, confidence, and optimism about her finances.
I felt uplifted as I left the spa area. No matter what kind of chaos was going on at my center, it felt good to be able to help beings in need. I felt like I was fulfilling my purpose. My dreamcatcher necklace had been glowing all afternoon, which I took as a good sign that I was doing healing work.
I met up with Blueberry and Skili, who were hanging out together in a patch of fading sunlight, out on the green lawn. They seemed to be in deep conversation, but when I approached, Blueberry let out a series of joyful yips and ran over to me with her tail wagging.
I picked her up, gave her a few kisses and pats, and then promised dinner.
Once I had her situated outside of the van with a heaping bowl full of kibbles, I transmitted a message to Skili. “How did it go this afternoon?” I asked. “Did Miss Blueberry Muffin have a clue for us?”
I rummaged around in the black rubber bin that serves as my pantry, and found a bag of hotdog buns. Then I pulled a package of tofu dogs from a nearby cooler, and walked over to my little camp stove so I could fire it up.
“Yes,” Skili said. “Blueberry told me that she communicated with Snowflake.”
“Great!” I said.
I squatted down and pulled a frying pan from a magical storage area under my camp table. “What did they communicate about? Any new leads?” I placed it on my little stove, and slapped two tofu dogs into it.
“Dogs,” Skili said, in a disapproving tone. “They are strange.”
I twisted a knob and flames sprouted up on the gas burner.
Skili went on. “They talked about dog things. Where the best water is, where the best smells come from. The tastiest grass.”
<
br /> She flew off of the van’s roof and landed on a camp chair. “After listening to a long list, she finally gave me something useful.”
“Yeah?” I said.
Skili gave a slight, owl nod. “Yes, child. Our list of suspects—it included the dog walker, yes?”
“Yeah,” I said again.
“We can cross her off,” Skili informed me. “Snowflake stated that she was with the dogwalker. On Monday evening, after The Miser left for town to go to the bar with you, June took Snowflake out for a long walk. They walked until Snowflake’s dinner hour, which is always right at six. The shooting happened at five, so it couldn’t have been the dog walker.”
Skili bent her head down and began preening her feathers. She’d just said more than I’d ever heard her say in one transmission, and I wondered if it wore her out. She seemed slightly annoyed by her afternoon of chatting with Blueberry. I made a mental note to give Skili some much deserved peace and quiet.
“Great work, Skili,” I said. “Thank you for getting that out of Blueberry. I know it probably wasn’t easy, and you had to listen to a lot of other stuff before getting to that helpful gem of information.”
“Someone had to do it,” Skili said.
“You really took one for the team,” I told her. “Thanks for watching Blueberry all afternoon, too, so that I could work. I owe you one. Why don’t you take the evening off, and do something that you enjoy?”
“I could hunt,” she said.
I flipped the tofu dogs and nodded.
For my wise owl familiar, to “hunt” really meant to meditatively fly above the treetops, looking down at the ground below. Ever since meeting Azure’s mouse familiar, Abracadabra, Skili swore off mice. She eats mostly a diet of fluffernutter sandwiches now, which I make up for her once a week and she stores who knows where. I figured she had a hole in a tree somewhere, stuffed with stale marshmallow and peanut butter sandwiches.
To each their own, as they say.
“Totally,” I told her. “You go hunt. I’ll hang with Blueberry here.” I considered my plan to meet with Hal at ten. I was actually looking forward to it, which didn’t make a lot of sense to me, given the circumstances. He’d broken into one of my guests’ rooms, and he’d lied to me about his name, too.
But his eyes... his smile...
I looked at Blueberry, who was still chowing down. Would she behave during my meeting with “Hal”? Or would she be disruptive? I was hoping maybe she’d just curl up in a ball and nap while Hal and I talked, or maybe she would just sit quietly by my side. Neither of those scenarios seemed very likely. Unless I bring a bone for her to gnaw on, I thought. Didn’t Cora pack a few in that—
A message from Skili disrupted my thoughts. “You’re looking forward to this evening,” she said. “I sense it. I urge caution, child.”
I looked at her, and saw she was pinning me with a grandmotherly gaze. “You just broke up with Justin. It would be unwise to try to fill that gap with another man.”
“I’m not trying to fill any gaps,” I said. “I’m just...” I sighed. There was no use trying to keep my feelings from Skili. She was my familiar, after all. “I’m just following my heart,” I told her. “There’s something about this guy that really interests me. I’m attracted to him, and I can’t just ignore that feeling. It wouldn’t be right,”
“What if Sarin is behind this?” Skili asked me.
I was about to flip the tofu dogs, but her question hijacked my attention. I paused, with a fork held in midair, and looked at Skili.
“Sarin?” I repeated. “You think... you think she might have sent Hal—or whatever his name is—here to tempt me? Maybe to lure me to give up here, and stay at her inn?”
“I’m voicing your concerns, child,” she said. Then she lifted up off of the chair with a mighty flap of her wings. “Be cautious. Enough words. I must go hunt.”
I smushed the two tofu dogs into buns and thought over Skili’s message.
What if Sarin did send Hal to my center?
She was known for using recruiters to do her bidding.
If Hal was a recruiter, it would make sense that he gave me a fake name. He wouldn’t want me to look him up on the Record Keeper Reviews and find out his true identity.
Sarin had sent a recruiter to my center before, so I couldn't put it past her. And given the fact that Sarin had gone to all the trouble of arranging a tour for Justin, just to get him out of Hillcrest for a year, I really didn’t know what else she would try. It seemed that she really wanted me to give up my life in the Earth Realm, and move to her inn.
What if she sent Hal to try to influence my decision? I worried.
Maybe Sarin had sent a young, handsome man to my center as bait. Maybe she was going to use him somehow to lure me to the Spirit Realm.
The idea almost made me lose my appetite—but not quite. I bit into my first tofu dog and munched away as I thought.
There was one part of Skili’s theory that didn’t fit, and that was the fact that Hal had broken into The Miser’s room.
If Hal was a recruiter for Sarin, he’d have no business poking around The Miser’s things. He’d only be interested in me —not The Miser.
There must be more to the story, I thought. And tonight, I’m going to figure it out.
Hal said that we could talk. Hopefully he’ll give me some answers.
Blueberry finished up her own meal, and then sat at my feet as I polished off my tofu dogs. She eagerly nibbled up the stray crumbs that dropped. When we were done, I put on some music and danced while I did the dishes.
I was feeling a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety about meeting up with Hal, and dancing helped to ease my nerves. I did a few yoga poses, too, and then had a cup of peppermint tea.
Finally, at ten, Blueberry and I headed for the center.
Chapter Twelve
I heard Hal before I saw him. He was playing the same hauntingly beautiful melody on the piano that I’d heard on the night we first talked.
I had butterflies in my stomach by the time I reached the piano, mixed with a sense of anxiety. Hal was hunched over it, playing his heart out. His fingers danced over the keys; the music that poured from the instrument was divine. I let it thrum through my body. As I focused on the song, my anxiety dissipated, leaving only the butterflies.
The gentle music soothed Blueberry, too. She curled up at my feet and drifted off to sleep.
When Hal wrapped up, he looked at me. “Hi Marley,” he said softly. He stood. “Thanks for meeting me here.” In contrast to the soaring notes that came from his fingertips, his voice sounded hesitant.
He pushed his hands into his pockets. “I have some explaining to do, don’t I?” he said.
I nodded. I couldn’t help but look into his eyes as I said, “Yeah, you do.” I took a deep breath, trying to ready myself for what he might have to share.
“Can you keep a secret?” he asked. “Can I trust you?” He searched my eyes.
I returned his gaze steadily. I felt a new energy flow through the space between us. His question was authentic. He was speaking to me from the heart.
I nodded instinctively. “Yes,” I said.
He looked around the lobby, to assess whether it was still empty. It was. His voice was a whisper as he said. “You’re right. My name isn’t Hal Holt. I had to lie to you because I’m here to—”
BANG! The sound of a distant gunshot pierced the air, cutting off Hal mid-sentence.
Blueberry, who had been sleeping soundly, jolted awake and sprang up onto her feet. A ridge of fur on her back stood up straight. I instinctively crouched down, and I saw Hal reach around to his back. He pulled out a gun.
He carries a gun? I thought incredulously. Why is he armed with a gun? This is a healing center, for goodness sake!
I stayed frozen and hunched down while Hal sprinted toward the stairs. “That sounded like it came from the third floor!” he called out to me as he ran. He reached the stairs and started bounding u
p them.
Blueberry growled in the direction of the staircase.
I was still frozen.
Unlike Hal, the sound of a gunshot did not cause me to spring into action. Adrenaline was coursing through my body; my heart pounded, and I felt as though my feet were glued to the floor. It seemed that while my nervous system had gone with option three out of the “fight, flight or freeze” response, Hal’s had gone with option number one. While I was frozen with fear, he’d sprung into fight mode. He was ready to confront whoever had shot that gun.
I definitely was not.
I sensed Skili trying telepathically to get in touch with me, but I couldn’t focus on her message. Instead, I concentrated on getting my body to stop shaking enough so that I could stand. Finally, it worked. I managed to head toward the stairs on trembling legs, pulling Blueberry along behind me, in pursuit of Hal. He was right, the gunshot did sound like it had come from the third floor.
Just as my feet touched the first and second steps, I heard another sound.
“Ahhhhhh!!!” A scream erupted, just slightly muffled by the third story doors.
I started running in earnest. The fear that someone might be in pain or in danger spurred me on.
I pulled open the third story double doors, and caught sight of The Miser, standing a little ways down the hallway. He was motioning frantically toward his suite, behind him. The door to his suite was propped open.
“Intruder!” he called out. “With a gun! Tried to shoot me! I almost died!” He was wearing a dark vest.
I ran toward him, and only slowed as I reached him. I was breathing hard.
“In there, in there! Go, go, go!” he shouted.
I motioned to his vest, which he wore over threadbare striped pajamas. It was bulky and black, and there was a hole in it, up by his heart. Shreds of gray filling puffed out from the place where the hole was. I thought I saw a glint of something metallic, half-buried in the vest. It was hard to tell, given the dim lighting in the hallway. “Is that a bulletproof vest?” I asked him.
“Yes!” he said frantically. “You told me to be careful. I conjured it up with a spell.”
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