Edge of the Shadow

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Edge of the Shadow Page 3

by Yvonne Montgomery


  Color suffused Kerry's face and Rose stood up. "My intuition says it's time for dessert. Andrea, if you'll help me with the plates, I'll show you where everything is."

  Andrea pushed back her chair and gathered several dishes. When she followed Rose to the kitchen, Dolores and Noreen were chatting about an exhibit at the University. Kerry and Aura Lee were silent. The door swung shut, cutting off the conversation.

  Rose waved a hand toward the cabinets near the sink. "The bowls are on the second shelf and there's a tray right there with the cookie sheets." She pulled a carton of ice cream from the freezer as Andrea put the dishes in the sink. "Mocha Fudge Revenge coming up, don't hold the calories." She hunted for a scoop, and then noticed that Andrea was regarding the sink with undue attention. "What's up?"

  "Oh, sorry." Andrea opened the cupboard door and found glazed stoneware bowls. "You'll have to show me the ropes for the next communal dinner. Is there another scoop?"

  Rose dug into the container. "I'll do it. You can take it easy this time and wow us when it's your turn." She flipped ice cream into a bowl. "The meals are just a way to maintain contact with each other. Caldicott figured food was as good a way to create a sense of community as any other."

  "It makes sense. I definitely fit into the chooser category, though." Andrea watched Rose but her mind was still back at the dinner table. "What is it that you do at Wisdom Court? I assume you sort of run the place."

  Rose glanced up, and the curiosity in Andrea's face prompted her own sense of irony. "That describes my style exactly: I sort of run the place." She dug into the ice cream. "I came here a few years ago to help Caldicott. We'd met in a yoga group some time before that. As it happened, she became ill not long after I got here. The day-to-day details got to be too much for her." She picked up a morsel of ice cream on the counter and popped it into her mouth. "Now, what did you really want to ask me?"

  Andrea lined up the bowls on the tray. "Am I imagining the tension between Aura Lee and Kerry? They're so on edge with each other."

  Rose filled the last bowl and jammed the lid back onto the carton. "Your intuition's good." She returned the ice cream to the freezer and rinsed her hands under the faucet. "Aura Lee's fascination with the magical arts, for lack of a better term, has been around for a long time. Since Caldicott died, though, she's become convinced that she's sending her messages from beyond the grave.

  "Kerry was brought here to write a history of Wisdom Court—in effect a biography of Caldicott–but she died about four months after Kerry got here. It throws her that Aura Lee wants to contact Caldicott through a séance. Maybe Kerry's afraid it might undermine Caldicott's reputation. Not that Caldicott would care."

  Andrea set the last bowl on the tray. "And that's why Aura Lee got excited this morning when I got so dizzy."

  "Yes." Rose hefted the tray and headed for the dining room. "Could you open the door?" As she passed by Andrea, she added, "We're all still distracted because of Caldicott's death. You'll have to bear with us."

  Aura Lee was addressing Noreen with enthusiasm. "I haven't been able to contact Cottie directly, but my channel keeps telling me she wants to commune with us."

  Rose set the tray on the sideboard.

  "Your channel? Wants to commune?" echoed Kerry. "Do you know how crazy that sounds?"

  Aura Lee stood up and swept the folds of her caftan to one side. She rounded the table with impressive dignity and stopped beside Kerry. "Disbelievers can't affect the truth. I just ask you to keep an open mind. And I'm asking a favor from all of you." She looked at each of the women in turn. "Notice what's around you. Cottie is here in the house, and she's trying to tell us something. It would be awful to miss it, and even worse to refuse to recognize it." She turned on her heel and sailed through the door to the kitchen.

  The others exchanged glances. "Well," Noreen began, but Kerry surged to her feet.

  "All I recognize is she's taking this spiritualism garbage too far." Kerry marched out of the dining room. A few seconds later the front door slammed.

  Dolores reached for the wine bottle and emptied it into her glass.

  "Anybody up for doubles on the ice cream?" Rose asked.

  Chapter 3

  Andrea woke to darkness heavy with potpourri. Her cheeks were wet, and her heartbeat thumped in her ears. Fumbling for the bedside light, she found the switch and turned it.

  Shadows leaped from the corners to loom over the bed. A sliver of light glimmered from the edge of the cheval mirror across the room, the rest of the glass almost black.

  At the scratch on the door Andrea's heart rose in her throat. She threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side, ready to run. The scraping sound came again. Andrea forced herself across the room. Her fingers closed round the knob and she yanked the door open.

  Strudel trotted into the room, her tail wagging.

  Andrea sank down beside the dog, running shaking fingers over her fur. "What are you doing here?" Strudel cast her a trusting glance and rolled onto her back to present her belly.

  "You scared me half to death, you rotten dog." A draft at her nape gave her shivers. "Come up on the bed with me before I freeze to death." She slid her hands under the dog's back to pick her up. When she heard the creaking of the door hinges, she swung round.

  A slice of light crept toward her across the Persian rug.

  "Are you all right?" a voice whispered. Aura Lee stuck he head around the molding, her hair hidden by a crocheted net festooned with pink bows. "There you are, Strudel."

  Slipping into the room, she glided across the rug. "I heard you call out, dear. May I?" She nodded toward the chair near the bed and took the dog from Andrea's arms. Her gown billowed as she sat, settling the dog on her lap. "Get back in bed, dear. I wanted to make sure you weren't ill, or hadn't gotten dizzy again."

  Andrea walked back to the bed on shaky legs and got under the covers. "Why would you think I was ill?" She pulled the comforter up around her neck.

  "When I heard you scream, I thought any number of things might be wrong." Aura Lee's face had creased in lines of concern. "By the Goddess, you must have been sleeping deeply."

  "I screamed?" Andrea blinked. "I'm sorry."

  Aura Lee clicked her tongue. "I should have made you a sleep posset, especially after your long drive. And there was your possible encounter this morning. The first time you meet a Visitor can be a strain," she added, "even when the spirit is friendly. Which Cottie is, of course."

  The last thing Andrea wanted to think about was a ghost. "Aura Lee, I didn't really see—"

  But the older woman was reminiscing. "Cottie loved the visual arts, and was always alert for new talent. That day we were driving along the coast and the sun was hot for early spring. I was thirsty.

  "A half hour out of Monterey we stopped in a small town. The restaurant served lemonade garnished with mint. It tasted so good." She pressed her lips together in memory. "They had a show... badly organized. Prints and oils, and a few photographs, were all jumbled together. Cottie saw your painting right off. 'They don't know what they've got there,' she said and she was right."

  "The compliment in her letter meant so much to me," Andrea murmured. "Selling that painting was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do." It was the work of an afternoon during Grace's first year of college. When the idea drifted across her mind, she'd just painted it until her arm was a heavy weight. The effect she sought was inspired by old Victorian story pictures. In a play of contrasts, she'd depicted a youth nearly hidden in the purple shadow cast by an old house. In his dark clothes he almost merged with the green vines twisting over the wall next to him. The grassy area on his other side was lit by afternoon sunshine and was divided by stepping-stones extending toward an open gate. The play between the dark and the light hinted at secrets, lending the work clandestine air. Andrea knew it revealed her as none of her other work ever had.

  "Is it here at Wisdom Court?"

  Aura Lee eyed her in puzzlement. "Of cou
rse it's here, hanging in the parlor. Didn't you see it?"

  Andrea glanced away. "I didn't get the whole tour, what with everything going on this morning."

  "You can see it tomorrow." Aura Lee settled into the chair cushions. "You're tired, I know, and it's too soon to expect Cottie to have said much, but I'd be grateful if you could tell me if she's calm." She looked hopeful. "Being a ghost doesn't necessarily mean serenity, or she'd have crossed over, but it would make me feel much better to know she's not uncomfortable in her new condition."

  A current of cold air brushed against Andrea's neck, and she pulled the bedding closer. What could she say?

  Strudel growled deeply. Hinges creaked, and she and Aura Lee turned to see Rose in the doorway, ghostly herself in a long white robe. "What's going on?" she asked sleepily. "Is anything wrong?"

  "No." Andrea rubbed her face with both hands, wondering if the other Wisdom Court inhabitants would appear, one by one. "I had a bad dream and woke Aura Lee. I'm sorry I disturbed both of you."

  "Don't be silly." Rose approached the bed, observing Aura Lee's comfortable situation. "What kind of dream?"

  "I don't remember." Andrea tried to recapture the remnants that had frightened her. Strudel yawned hugely, her pink tongue curling. The contrast between that image and Aura Lee's attempts to collect messages from Caldicott Wyntham hit her with sudden humor. A glance at Aura Lee's hairnet had her choking back a giggle.

  "My dear, don't be upset." Concerned, Aura Lee leaned forward to pat her hand. "Hysteria can be as upsetting to the Representatives as it is to humans."

  "Hysterical about what?" Rose frowned. "What representatives?"

  Aura Lee clicked her tongue. "Of the Other Side, of course. They only make visitations to pass on messages that cannot be denied. They don't mean to frighten the living, as a general rule."

  Rose grimaced. "Do messages have to be delivered in the middle of the night?"

  "I've done some research," Aura Lee said modestly. "Most sources say that to be receptive you have to be close to sleep or even hypnotized. I think that's why so many people are afraid of visitations. They're in sort of a vulnerable state anyway."

  "Obviously." Rose brushed her curling hair off her face.

  "Fear makes people think ghosts mean them harm," Aura Lee continued. "Usually they aren't interested in haunting but in finishing something left undone. Or in revealing something hidden."

  Rose pondered that. "I guess most of the ghost stories I've read would support that theory." Her bemused gaze wandered toward Andrea and her eyes sharpened with realization. "Good Lord, I'm sorry. Here we are rambling about ghosts, and you're tired to the bone. We'll talk more in the morning."

  Andrea nodded.

  Aura Lee stood up with Strudel in her arms and headed for the door. Rose followed behind her, pausing as she stumbled over something, and bent to retrieve it. "This must be yours." She laid a narrow sketchpad on the comforter.

  Andrea had thought to record first impressions but she'd fallen asleep after only a line or two. "Thanks." She set the pad on the nightstand. When she saw what was on the first page, she snatched it up again.

  "What's the matter?" Rose's gaze went from her face to the sketchpad.

  Aura Lee trailed back across the room.

  The sketch was of a man in a black coat. Thin-faced, he had an angular jaw and stubborn chin. Black hair grew in a widow's peak and bold brows frowned over almond-shaped eyes. His nose was straight and well formed, his lips firm and unsmiling. A dark tie set off his high, old-fashioned collar. The drawing was made in the economical style she'd developed as a forensic artist. She'd never seen the man before.

  Aura Lee peeked over Rose's shoulder. "By the Goddess, who's that? He's very handsome."

  "Maybe someone I drew on the job." Unable to look at it any longer, Andrea fumbled with the cardboard cover, flipping it over the paper.

  "A criminal?" Aura Lee cast a disillusioned look at the sketchpad. "What a shame. He doesn't look bad, does he?"

  Rose frowned at Andrea. "Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine." Who was the man? Where had the sketch come from?

  Aura Lee leaned toward her, eyes sparkling. "You drew it tonight, didn't you? Was it in your dream? It could have been automatic writing." At Rose's scowl her eagerness dimmed. "You sit with a pen and the spirits write their message with your hand."

  "Aura Lee, what the hell?" Rose held her robe more tightly to her.

  Aura Lee stamped her slippered foot. "We should use automatic writing to allow Cottie to get her message to us."

  "For God's sake, it's three in the morning and Andrea's already having nightmares. Give it a rest."

  "Of course, you're right," Aura Lee said contritely. "Maybe I should fix her some tea. Calendula, perhaps. Or chamomile."

  Rose took a deep breath. "That's very kind but let's just let her go back to sleep. It's been a stressful day. Can you drop off again?" she asked Andrea.

  "Sure. Sleep sounds good."

  Rose nodded and walked to the door, Aura Lee behind her. Strudel watched Andrea over Aura Lee's shoulder as they went out.

  Rose paused. "Don't forget. If you need anything, just call us." The door clicked shut.

  Andrea forced herself to breathe slowly and closed her eyes. She tried to imagine something soothing. A waterfall: a silvery stream coursing over a steep bank, reflecting sunlight. Behind her eyes the flowing current smoothed into a mirror surface where the image of the man on the sketchpad grew until he filled her mind, staring at her, challenging her.

  Chapter 4

  French doors opened to a room where tall windows looked out on mountain grass and scotch pines. The sloping ceiling was itself glass, narrow double panes joined together with leaded strips. The floor was dark slate.

  "The east guest house has a traditional studio," Rose told Andrea. "Since Dolores is set up there, we thought this would do."

  Andrea barely heard her. She approached the low cabinets along the edge of the room and opened a door, finding empty shelves inside. She explored another, seeing where she would put supplies. Damp canvases could be racked inside the vented compartment in one corner. The cupboards above had drawers and cubbyholes for paints and brushes.

  Rose came up beside her. "The light will be strongest at late morning and early afternoon. If that's a problem, we'll figure something else out."

  "Are you kidding? I've never had such a wonderful place to work in before." Andrea's gaze swung around the empty room but in her mind it was already filled with canvases covered in color.

  "Coming through." Neal Cameron maneuvered a large box through the door and carried it to the far wall. With a grunt he lowered it to the floor. Andrea noted the bunching of shoulder muscles under his blue tee shirt, the tightening of faded jeans over his backside. She could just hear her daughter's voice: This guy is a serious babe.

  "Whew." Sweat shone on Neal's forehead. His greenish eyes held a teasing light. "You paint with rocks, right?"

  Andrea shot him a guilty look. "I had to overload all of the boxes to get everything in the car. Here, I'll help."

  He shook his head. "You want to make me look bad in front of Rose? It's taken years to convince her that I'm not all brains. Don't blow my cover."

  Rose's eyes twinkled. "Don't kid yourself, Neal. I always think of you strictly as brawn." She patted his shoulder and moved to the door. "I've got tons to do. Did Aura Lee tell you about the pipe in the laundry room? Could you check it before you go?"

  "Yeah, sure."

  Rose nodded. "Yell if you need me. You, too, Andrea. I'll be in my workroom, making fountains." She went back into the kitchen.

  The mood of easy relaxation left with her. Neal's gaze made Andrea aware of how quickly she'd dressed that morning, how little attention she'd paid her face. She was irritated with herself for thinking about it. "You don't have to unload the car for me. Really, I can do it." Will power kept her from lifting her hand to smooth her hair.

  "That
doesn't mean I can't give you a hand." Neal headed out the door and Andrea followed, increasing her pace to keep up with his long strides.

  As they emptied the car, embarrassment grew over the number of belongings she'd packed. I should have thrown in my old recliner while I was at it, she thought grimly while lugging another heavy box.

  They were nearly finished when Neal pulled another crate to the edge of the trunk. He hefted it and turned back toward the house. "More books, right?" he asked as he passed her.

  "Afraid so." How could she know which books she'd need? And her totems: a fertility rattle Grace gave her, a bear claw to increase her power, a soapstone figure of a woman embracing her pregnant belly. All had sparked her imagination.

  By the time they were done, Andrea was starving. Strange dreams had broken up her sleep, and thanks to the midnight gathering in her room, she'd overslept, missing breakfast.

  Aura Lee appeared in the studio doorway. Her flowing gray garment reminded Andrea of a nun's habit. It was easy to imagine a white wimple framing her rounded cheeks.

  "It's a gorgeous day and you two have been working hard." Aura Lee handed Neal a large wicker picnic basket. "I just mopped the floor, so the kitchen's off limits. Take Andrea up to Chautauqua to see the view."

  Aura Lee was a born matchmaker. Andrea's cheeks grew hot at the idea. She cast Neal a glance, only to find him watching her with a crooked grin. "That's a great idea," she said hastily, "but I'm sure Neal has lots to do."

  "Neal's hungry." He lifted one side of the basket lid and peered inside. "Sandwiches, apples. Cake. German chocolate?" he asked. Aura Lee nodded. "Excellent. Let's see, beer, potato chips, napkins." He pulled a sketchpad out of the side pocket and raised a brow.

  "In case she wants to draw. There are pencils inside and I tucked a space blanket in the other pocket so you can relax."

 

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