I looked back at Kelsey. “Would you like to join us?”
Kelsey folded her arms. “No offense, but I’m not into psychics. I don’t trust them.”
I sat down on the couch and patted the empty spot next to me. “I don’t bite. And if you’re worried I’ll try to read you, don’t be. I can’t read anyone who doesn’t want me to.”
“Come on, Kels.” Zac tilted his head in my direction. “It’s like I told you. Misty’s harmless. It’s all a magic act anyway, and we did agree we needed to talk to her.”
I winced at Zac’s reference to my talents as like that of a magic act, but let it go. No point in trying to convince non-believers.
“Fine,” Kelsey exhaled, then stepped into the room and took a seat at the end of the couch, as far away from me as possible.
“So you came to talk, did you? Not just to return some of Zoey’s items. Because you could have given them to Crystal.”
“Yea, well, that wasn’t going to happen.” Kelsey shook her head.
“No?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t trust Crystal. She’d probably tell Zoey we stole them or something.” Kelsey put her hands in her lap and twisted her fingers together.
“I take it Crystal’s not a friend?”
“Are you kidding?” Zac interrupted. “Crystal doesn’t have friends, she has business associates. I doubt she even knows the meaning of the word.”
“She puts on a good show of it with Zoey. Fussing over her like she does. How about Chad? Is she friendly with him?” I already knew the answer to that but floated the question out to see what response I might get. Did either of them know about Crystal’s affair with Chad? Or was it more covert than that?
Zac shot Kelsey a quick look. “I don’t know. It’s none of our business what they are. We didn’t exactly socialize together if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I see. You’re friends with Chad and not so much with Zoey, is that it?”
“It’s not like Zoey’s not friendly. She’s busy, and she’s gone a lot. We work with Chad. And Crystal, well, when we’re around the house, she kinda floats in-between as it suits her.”
“You mean when Zoey’s traveling and Crystal stays behind she finds excuses to hang out. Maybe to check on how things are with Chad.”
Zac cleared his throat. “Yeah. More or less.”
I decided to leave the conversation at more or less and moved on to Lacey. “And what about Lacey? Were Crystal and Lacey friends?”
There was an uncomfortable silence. Zac and Kelsey exchanged a look. Then Zac answered. “I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, she was at the house for dinner with Zoey and Lacey the night Lacey drowned. I always thought Crystal might have been a little jealous of Lacey.”
“Really?” I sensed unspoken energy between Zac and Kelsey, and began to wonder if that energy was an attempt to manipulate me. Did they want me to think Crystal had murdered Lacey?
“Crystal didn’t like that Lacey spent so much time at the house,” Kelsey said.
“How did you know that?” I asked. “Did she tell you?”
“She didn’t have to say anything,” Zac said. “You could feel it in the air when Crystal walked in the room and saw Lacey there. She hated the girl. She was too smart to ever say anything—at least in front of us—but you could see it in her face.”
“And the police can’t prove it,” Kelsey added.
I stopped them both with a hand in the air. “I get that you’re worried about Chad and the future of the band, and I know Crystal can be intimidating, but if you came here thinking I could convince the police Crystal murdered Lacey simply because you think so, I’m afraid you’ll be sadly disappointed.”
“Yes, but if you told them, because of who you are, they might believe you,” Kelsey said.
“Because I’m psychic?” I wanted to laugh out loud. “Interesting thought coming from the two of you, considering neither of you claims to believe in what I do. The truth is, I don’t know who killed Lacey, and trying to determine who did isn’t all that easy. Even for a psychic. While I understand you think what I do is all trickery, Lacey’s appearance the night of the séance was a total surprise. Even to me. The only thing she revealed that night was that she and Chad had been carrying on. In fact, I don’t believe Lacey has any idea who hit her on the back of the head or how she drowned. Which, in my experience, isn’t unusual. Some ghosts have a kind of amnesia about it all. A blessing I suppose.”
Wilson had never been curious about the cause of his death. All he remembered was that he had gone to bed one night with a headache and never woke up again. He had never pressed me for details.
Kelsey got up. “I think we should go, Zac.”
I stood up and put my hand on the box. “You can leave the box. I’ll be happy to take it back to Zoey.” I was anxious to get back to Zoey’s anyway, particularly since her arrest. “But before you go, I have a question for you both.”
“What?” Zac stopped at the door, his hand on the knob.
“Where were you the night Lacey drowned?”
“The cops already asked,” Zac said. “But just so you know, we were at the studio with Chad, recording a new song Kelsey wrote.”
“And you left when Chad left?”
“No. We left early. Kelsey wasn’t feeling well. She had a headache. Why?”
“No reason. I’m just trying to keep the timeline straight.”
Their story didn’t quite match up with the story they had given Romero, but close enough. Could be Zac had forgotten they had told the detective Kelsey had a stomachache.
I closed the door behind them, and Bossypants appeared from beneath the stairs and scampered to the sofa where she curled up in a ball. Wilson came out from the study.
“Visitors?” he asked.
“Several,” I said. “Where’ve you been?”
“Meditating.”
Shades, particularly those that have become self-aware, spend an inordinate amount of time meditating. In some ways it’s an exercise of reflection, an opportunity to take inventory and focus on their new being and direction. It’s also a sign they’re evolving.
“Well, meditate on this. Zoey’s been arrested.”
“Arrested!”
“Yes, although she’s not in jail. Not yet. But we need to step it up, Wilson. The clock’s ticking”
“And the second caller?” Wilson went to the sofa, picked up the cat and cuddled her in his lap.
“Zac and Kelsey.” I explained they had brought a box of Zoey’s things they claimed to have accidentally packed up when helping Chad move out. “They wanted me to return it, but that’s not the real reason they came.”
“Oh?” Wilson glanced at the open box on the coffee table.
“No, I think what they really wanted was to know what I thought about Lacey’s murder. It’s too early for them to have heard about Zoey’s arrest. I think the box was just an excuse to question me. To see if I thought Crystal might have done it.”
“Aha! The Ice Queen?” Wilson pulled back one of the box’s folding flaps and stared down at the contents. “That wouldn’t surprise me.”
“That’s exactly what they wanted me to think,” I said. “In fact, they went so far as to ask me to share that very thought with Detective Romero.”
“Will you?” Wilson started to rummage through the box.
“No. Zac and Kelsey may be pushing me to talk with Romero about Crystal, but I feel like there’s a little too much finger pointing going on for me to be comfortable with the idea. I’d like to hit the pause button as far as Detective Romero goes, and do a little more digging on my own before I share anything more with him.”
“Well then, you’re definitely not going to want to share this with him.” From within the box, Wilson took a small silver baby’s rattle and handed it to me. “This box isn’t Z
oey’s, it’s Alicia Mae’s.”
“What?” I took the rattle. It looked as though it had doubled as a teether with a round coral teething extension. The type of teether I had only seen in antique stores.
“Look at the handle. The initials inscribed on it. AMM. It’s Alicia’s.” Wilson mindlessly stroked the cat as though it was an everyday occurrence.
I pulled the box closer to me. “That can’t be.”
Zoey had mentioned several boxes she had yet to unpack, things her aunt had stashed away for memories sake. Old family photos and keepsakes. Pictures and mementos from when she was little. When Zac had presented the box, I had assumed it was Zoey’s. It hadn’t even occurred to me it could be Alicia’s.
“But it is.” Wilson reached back inside the box, took out a silver-framed photo, and handed it to me.
“Is this who I think it is?”
Wilson nodded. It’s Alicia with her mother, Margaret Mann. It must have been taken shortly before Alicia died. She looks about three or four years old.”
I studied the photo of Alicia with her mother, sitting at the picnic table in front of the playhouse. I traced the outline of their faces with the tip of my finger, then placed the picture on the table and looked back in the box. What else would I find?
“But you’re wrong, it’s not just Alicia’s things. Look at this.” I pulled out another silver picture frame, less ornate than the first, with a black and white picture of Zoey and her mother, Cora Chamberlain. The two were sitting at a piano, very much like the one inside the Pink Mansion. “Zoey looks a lot like her mother doesn’t she? She couldn’t have been more than four or five years old when this was taken as well.”
I put Zoey’s photo down on the table next to Alicia’s and started to pull the other items from the box. A silver baby’s cup. A child’s spoon and fork. A pacifier. Bracelet. Barrettes. Things a very young child might have, but nothing for a child beyond the age of four or five.
“These aren’t keepsakes. This is a time capsule. A memorial. For every picture of Zoey, there’s a photo of Alicia. For every toy for one, a toy for the other. A silver rattle for Alicia. A silver cup for Zoey. A picture of Zoey with her mother, and a picture of Alicia with her mother. And all of them, either photos or items each girl had before the age of five.”
“What’s it mean?” Wilson cuddled the cat closer to his chest, his hand scratching behind Bossy’s ear.
“It means things are changing.” My eyes went from Wilson to the cat purring in his arms. “Everything. All around us. And you too.”
Wilson’s eyes widened. I had hit a nerve. He stood up and the cat jumped down from his lap and scurried back to her hiding place beneath the stairs. “You really think the universe is messing with me?”
“I do.” I had witnessed the transformation of shades before. The graduation of spirit. The letting go of old habits and physical properties. It was obvious. Wilson had started to change. He no longer sneezed when the cat was in his presence. The cat no longer screeched when she saw Wilson. “I feel I need to warn you. Your time may be growing short. What you do with it and how you do it, is entirely up to you.”
Chapter 27
I called Zoey later that same afternoon and was relieved to find her at home. She had returned from the courthouse where she had met with her attorney. And exactly as Romero had said, entered a not guilty plea, was allowed to post a bond and return home with Crystal on the proviso she surrender her passport and not leave town. The two had just walked back into the house.
“Did you know I was going to be charged?” Zoey asked.
“I had a feeling,” I said. “I didn’t want to worry you. But just so you know, I have an even stronger sense you’re going to come through this just fine.”
“I wish the studio felt the same way. Things are insane right now. They’re threatening to cancel my contract. If I can’t get to Italy by the end of the month, they may have to pull the entire project. It’s not like I can finish filming from a jail cell.”
“You’re not going to go to jail, Zoey. Trust me.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Things can sometimes look pretty dark. My experience is, it’s best not to put energy into worrying about something you can’t do anything about. Not when there’s something else in front of you that needs tending and may be just the thing to help lighten your mood.” Whatever it was about the box, I knew it would divert her energy into something less stressful.
“And what’s that?” Zoey asked.
“Zac and Kelsey stopped by this morning with a box they claim they accidentally packed up when they were helping Chad move out. They didn’t want to return it themselves. Said they felt awkward, being so close to Chad and all. So they brought it to me. If you’ve time, I’d like to bring it by. Plus, there’s something we need to talk about regarding your ghost.”
“I’m free for the next couple hours,” Zoey said. “Crystal scheduled me a massage. She thought I could use it.”
I told Wilson to ready the Jag, and fifteen minutes later, with the box in my hands, the two of us stood in front of a newly installed wrought-iron security gate at the foot of the Pink Mansion. Bigger and more impressive than the previous gate.
I pressed the intercom button and watched the video cam above my head zoom-in and focus on my face. Crystal’s shrill voice came at me through the speaker. “What do you want?”
I mustered my sweet little-old-lady voice. “I’m here to see Zoey. She’s expecting me.”
“Star. Three. One. Nine. Eight,” Crystal barked the security code back at me, then abruptly hung up.
I entered the numbers exactly as Crystal had dictated and stood back as the gate swung open. I started up the steps and stopped to catch my breath before I got to the top. Zoey appeared in front of the atrium entrance, dressed in a colorful caftan robe with her hair down. Considering everything she had been through that morning, I thought she looked pretty calm.
“You replaced the security gate.” I glanced back at the gate and then to Zoey.
“I thought it was about time,” she said. “It’s the one thing I hadn’t tackled with the remodel, and with Chad out of the house and everything that’s gone on, I feel safer knowing I’ve replaced it.”
Zoey took my hand as I hobbled up the last of the steps. “You’re looking good,” I said. “Better than I expected.”
“Xanax,” she said. “It’s why I have a personal assistant.”
Zoey pushed open the front door. Wilson slipped invisibly in behind me, and as he did, the door to the powder room slammed shut.
“Is that—”
“Crystal?” Zoey bit her lips and squelched a laugh. “You’ll have to excuse her. She’s not feeling well. Stomach bug or something. She’s got a doctor’s appointment this afternoon. She’s on her way out now. You’d think she was dying.”
From behind the bathroom door, I could hear Crystal wretching, then the flushing of the toilet and water running.
“Saltines,” I said. “It does wonders for an upset stomach.” I wanted to add “or a little morning sickness,” but kept the thought to myself and handed the box to Zoey.
“Oh my God! I’d forgotten all about this.” Zoey put her arms around the box and hugged it close. “I can’t believe Chad took it. I haven’t seen any of this stuff in years. I was planning on going through it once I finished the movie and had some time.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” I said. “It was open when Zac and Kelsey delivered it, and I couldn’t help but notice some of the things inside.”’
Zoey ran her hand across the top of the flapped lids. “It’s nothing. Just a lot of old memorabilia. Not worth anything, but all the same, I’m glad to have it back. And you’re right, it does take my mind off this morning’s events.”
“How about we sit out back? The fresh air will do you good, and there are some t
hings in the box I think we should talk about.”
Zoey looked over her shoulder toward the backyard and closed her eyes. I could see she was still struggling with the image of Lacey’s death more than she let on. She probably hadn’t been in the yard since Romero and his team had fished Lacey’s body from the spa.
“It’s okay,” I said. I put my hand on her shoulder. “I’m here.”
We settled ourselves on two cushioned patio chairs, and Zoey put the box on a round stone table in front of us.
“Before we begin,” I said, “I need to tell you that not everything in the box may be yours.”
“What do mean, not everything?” Zoey looked at me curiously.
“I believe most of what’s inside are things from when you were a very little girl. Things from before your mother died. Before you were four or five.” Zoey’s fingers lightly rubbed the corner of the box. She closed her eyes as though she was touching a memory. “But there are also some things in the box that I don’t believe are yours. Things that belonged to Alicia Mae. I think Zac and Kelsey picked up the box by accident, just like they said. But I don’t believe for a second it was put there by accident. I think Alicia put it in your closet for a reason.
“Alicia? But why? This box was sealed when it was delivered from storage. If Chad took it, it was a mistake. It wouldn’t have even been opened. I hadn’t had time to go through it yet.”
“Maybe so,” I said. “Or maybe you never noticed it. But right now, I’m more concerned with why Alicia’s things are in the box than how they got there.”
I opened the box and handed Zoey the silver-framed photo of herself with her mother.
Zoey smiled and traced the line of her mother’s face with the tips of her finger, like she was outlining a memory “I remember when this was taken. In a way it feels like it could have been yesterday. I was probably only four or five years old. We were in my mother’s dressing room at the studio.” Zoey hugged the photo to her breast. “I wish I could go back and hold her in my arms like I can this picture. She was so beautiful, and not in an actress kind of way, but as a mother. If only we had had more time together.”
The House on Hallowed Ground Page 17
