"Okay, good, good," Oliver says with a nod. "Yes, Harper?"
Harper is slow to speak, then says, "I've been experiencing some crazy empathic feelings."
Oliver frowns. "Did you discuss it with any of the counselors?"
"I did," she says softly. "Peggy, Mary, and I talked about it. I didn't have anything concrete to go on, so we just used it as a discussion. Thing is, though, the pain I've been getting is up here." Harper moves her hands to her neck. "It's definitely a strangulation sensation. No doubt about it."
Patrick and I share a glance. Strangulation?
Talking Feathers lifts his hand high. "Kendall and I talked about seeing a spirit, but we didn't compare notes. I don't know specifics, only that it's a young girl and murder was the cause of her death."
Murder? I wasn't getting anything like that. "Why didn't Hailey tell me that?"
Shaking his head, Talking Feathers says, "I can't explain it."
Oliver is obviously very excited. "But wait—there's more." He moves the projector a little bit to the left so he's standing in the middle of the room in front of us. "When Patrick and Kendall came to me with this image, I took the liberty of faxing it to my contacts in several law enforcement agencies that have national databases on missing persons."
"And?" I ask, literally on the edge of my seat.
"Kendall, we got a hit." Oliver grins like a proud parent. Peggy, Mary, and Heidi all clap and exchange whispers.
"That quickly?"
"Like I said, I have ... people."
Patrick nudges me with his elbow.
Oliver continues. "The picture matches the description and photos of a missing teenager from Calistoga, California—north of San Francisco. Her name is Hailey Ann Santiago, and she's been gone for three months. Her last known whereabouts was with a group of friends who went hiking over Christmas break in wine country. All of the friends and family were interrogated, and every one of them had the same story. They dropped her off at home that day and never saw her again. Each one of them passed polygraphs, so the trail went cold and there aren't many more details to date. It's interesting that a girl who comes from northern California and who disappeared there would be showing herself in visions to us here in central California." Oliver pauses to contemplate this for a moment. "I want you all to concentrate on this picture. Use your abilities, whatever they may be, to connect with Hailey's spirit. We want to help the authorities find her body so we can bring closure to her family."
Oliver passes out copies of Celia's drawing of Hailey to us, and I stifle a gag thinking of poor Hailey lost somewhere, decomposing to the point where her family may not be able to identify her. My chest aches like I've got cinder blocks on me at what the girl must have gone through. How could something so terrible happen?
Patrick taps my chair with his foot. "We'll solve this, Kendall. We'll get Hailey home. I promise."
Peggy, Mary, and Heidi fan out around the room and we form small groups. The Puckett triplets set out to connect with Hailey through their clairvoyance, clairaudience, and empathic abilities. Willow and Talking Feathers split off, and I hear Mary instructing them on how to channel Hailey through automatic writing. Evan Christian and Carl pair up to see what they can come up with using a dowsing pendulum. Patrick and I don't move.
Heidi approaches us. "You two must have the strongest connection with Hailey, since you've both seen and talked to her. Perhaps we can meditate together and see if she will come through to you."
"Sure thing," I say. "Whatever we need to do. I have my pendulum. We could do some dowsing too."
Patrick shakes his head. "We need to do more than that, Kendall."
It's clear. We need to lock brains like we've done so many times before and see if two heads are better than one.
Heidi motions to some bulky pillows on the floor in the corner of the room. "Down here, kids. Get comfortable."
We do as she says, facing each other. I reach my hands out to Patrick, knowing we'll get more psychic energy this way. At first, he shakes his head no.
Emphatically, I shove my hands farther toward him. "Patrick, we're connected. You can't deny that. We have to do this for Hailey."
He lets out a long sigh and runs his hands through his hair. Slowly, he peels off his leather gloves and sets them in his lap. Then he stretches his hands to me.
"I'll spread some Reiki energy around the two of you," Heidi says.
Neither one of us acknowledges her as we stare into each other's eyes. With a hushed sigh from each of us, Patrick and I join our hands together. An immediate buzz covers my skin, making the hairs on my arms stand at attention. An electric current zaps through me, much like lightning filling the sky. I know he feels it too. There's no denying it from the expression of wonderment on his gorgeous face.
I close my eyes and watch the images that our minds are producing. Neither of us says anything; we just sit back and watch as the mystery unfolds before us. The energy coming from our hands and minds circles us in an invisible ring of psychic power. Things I haven't been able to see on my own—and Patrick hasn't been able to decipher alone—suddenly click into place, like a key in a lock. The vision shifts and settles into lucid images that he and I can both discern.
We're walking through a gate at a national park.
Look at the giant trees, he points out. We could be anywhere in California.
We could be anywhere. Period.
No, we're in California.
Yes, he's right. Massive trees that reach to the heavens stand before us everywhere. I've never seen trees so big in my life. Under our feet, there's the crunch of gravel and dirt and leaves as we walk through this tree park. The trunks of these mammoth beasts are forty feet around! At the base of one on the pathway, I stop.
Patrick's hands tighten on mine.
Hailey is here. Her energy is everywhere.
I feel her too, I confirm.
And then we see her up ahead. I'm not sure if it's residual energy that's playing back like a movie for our benefit or if we've actually catapulted ourselves into the time when Hailey suffered at the hand of another. Either way, we're seeing her. We are psychic witnesses to the violence about to befall her.
Sure enough, there's someone with her, hiking up ahead and forcing her along. I see boots ... Timberlands, I think. Brown and well-worn. The smell of beer permeates the air. We're tromping along with them through the paths and trees, deeper and deeper into the forest. We see ... everything ... everything Hailey sees as she's struggling behind this person.
We have to keep up with them. I begin to choke up, but Patrick tightens his grip for a moment.
Stay with me, Kendall. We need more information. Where is she going?
Is he forcing her?
I feel fear, annoyance, and confusion from her.
I need more help, Patrick.
I plead to my new spirit guide, if she's listening. Anona ... are you with me? Please give me a clue. Anything. Mist forms in my mind's eye and then clears to give me two vivid images. The first is of a butterfly fluttering around, and the second is a Spanish textbook.
Patrick slumps. A butterfly and a book? What does that even mean, Kendall?
Shhh ... let me figure it out. Butterfly ... fly ... flutter ... wings ... larva ... cocoon ... book, learn, teach, school...
Kendall ... for Christ's sake!
Wait! This isn't for me, it's for you. Did you take Spanish in school?
Two semesters, sophomore year.
What is Spanish for butterfly?
Umm... mariposa. Why?
Is there anyplace near here called that? One that has these gigamonic trees?
Patrick's hands squeeze mine again. You're brilliant! Mariposa Grove. That's where the giant sequoias are.
And that's where? I ask, feeling stupid that I don't know.
Yosemite. Like ... an hour from here.
The vision breaks and Patrick and I find ourselves staring at each other, nearly panting in exhaustion from ou
r connection.
Heidi joins our space. "Anything?"
"Everything," I say with a smile.
"At least a place to start looking," Patrick notes.
"Oliver," Heidi calls out. "We have another hit."
Patrick and I just sit there, smiling at each other. No words are spoken. None are necessary. I try to pull my hands away, thinking he'll want to don his gloves again. However, he weaves his fingers tightly with mine, in a comforting, soothing, romantic way.
"I don't need the gloves anymore," he says.
Everything has changed.
Chapter Twenty-one
"YOU DIDN'T SLEEP MUCH," Jess says to me on our way to breakfast the next morning. We seem to have this conversation every day.
"Nope. Neither did you, huh?"
"Not really. I was seeing this blinding lemon yellow aura radiating off Hailey's picture," Jess explains.
I scrunch up my face. "Inanimate objects have auras?"
Jess shakes her head. "Honey, in my world everything has an aura. It's insane. Why do you think I'm here?" Then she adds, "Peggy said that means Hailey was struggling to maintain power or control in a relationship, and she had a fear of losing control. Did she have a boyfriend?"
"I had a vision of one, but that was sort of a conglomeration of Hailey's past in general. I can't assume he was in the picture when she disappeared."
In the main inn, we totally bypass the bounty of fruits, quiches, and juice laid out on the table and head straight down to the conference room. A lot of the other kids are there too, working on the case. Oliver is resting his chin on his hands, studying some papers before him.
"Anything?" I ask.
Oliver lifts his eyes up and peers at me. "The information you and Patrick came up with last night was key. Willow also got something good out of her automatic writing. She got an ex-boyfriend picking Hailey up at her house in Calistoga after her friends dropped her off. He had had a lot of beer, and there was a lot of gas in the car for a long road trip."
Jess smacks my arm. "I told you there was a boyfriend. Damn, I'm good." She explains her aura readings to Oliver.
"That's consistent with everything else we've gathered from you kids. I was on the phone earlier with the authorities up at Yosemite. This time of year, not all of the roads are open to visitors. However, due to my reputation, they've granted us access to the park. We've been asked to keep a low profile. The mini-coach will be here momentarily and we'll get going to the park." Oliver pats me on the arm.
"I always wanted to see the giant sequoias," I say to Jess. "Never thought it would be to solve a murder."
The ride from the inn to the south gate of Yosemite National Park takes about an hour. Time for me to prepare for what we might find. The scenery is a bit distracting, though. It's so breathtakingly beautiful up here it's not even funny. Even this time of year, there's snow on the mountain peaks in the distance, but there's also wildflowers scattered about. I've never seen trees like this ever before in my life. It's insane how tall they are. Pine trees in Radisson have nothing on these gigantic beasts.
We're met at the gate by a park ranger named Colin Allen. "There are two sheriff's deputies up the drive there to meet you. Plainclothes"
"I understand," Oliver says, and then climbs back in the coach.
The driver heads to the right, and the van chugs up the steep incline into Mariposa Grove, where the sequoias are.
Behind me, Patrick gazes out the window. I turn to him and ask, "Is it weird that I want to be wrong about what we saw in our vision?"
He screws up his mouth. "No, not weird at all. But aren't most of your visions pretty accurate?"
I nod. "If this one is, it means that a girl my age was murdered and left for dead. That's not exactly something I see on a daily basis. I usually just read tarot cards or help Celia, Taylor, and Becca point the EMF detector in the direction of the spirit I'm feeling."
"You're doing what you were destined to do, Kendall," Patrick says and offers me his bare hand. I take it and lace my fingers with his.
"I know. Hailey's a spirit in transition. I want to help her pass into the light."
"Me too." Patrick lifts our joined hands and places them on his knee. "We'll do it together."
Before I can put my other hand over his, the van jolts to a stop and the door whooshes open. Oliver stands at the front and addresses all of us.
"First off," he starts, "I want to tell you what a special group you are. I've never had a retreat take such a turn as this. Considering what I do as a career, Ethereal Evidence, I'm pleased that we might be able to solve the missing-persons case of Hailey Santiago and bring closure to her family up in Calistoga." He paces. "Now, this isn't going to be for all of you and I'm not forcing anyone to come along with this. You all have different talents and abilities. And many of you have helped already. Evan Christian, you knew to look at her Facebook page, which had a lot of information and links to pictures of friends and such. Josiah, you and Willow gave us details with the automatic writing, and the Puckett girls really connected with what Hailey was feeling in her last moments. I'd like you all to come, but it's up to you. This will certainly be dirty and tiring, and it may also be painful for you. I won't hide that fact."
In a no-brainer, Patrick and I move to the front of the van, followed by Willow, Jessica, Greg, Micah, and Talking Feathers. Soon, the Pucketts join us, along with Carl, Evan Christian, and Ricky. A united front.
"Very nice," Oliver says. "I'm very proud of you."
We all nod.
"Okay. Patrick and Kendall, lead the way."
Evan Christian grabs his backpack and pats it. "I printed out the pictures from her Facebook page in case you want to take them with you. There might be something in there that we can use to help us."
Oliver tousles his hair. "Good thinking."
"Ready?" Patrick asks, offering me his hand again.
I smile broadly and lace my fingers with his. "Let's go."
Oliver had told us in previous discussions that he doesn't usually get involved in a case unless the police contact him. Nothing like having a psychic call and say "Hey, I know where the dead body is" to put said psychic at the top of the who-done-it list. Fortunately, that's not the case here. Oliver's reputation from his television show, as well as his connections with national law enforcement, have made it possible for us to come in here unquestioned and try to lead the authorities to Hailey's body. These are certainly extenuating circumstances.
We hike the path through Mariposa Grove, past a fallen behemoth that is like a piece of a skyscraper lying on its side. On another occasion, I want to come back here to take pictures—maybe with Taylor Tillson—and appreciate my surroundings. Now, all I can think of is Hailey and what she was going through in her last moments.
"She was here," Patrick says. He touches the exposed root of the tree. "She stood here, laughing, and took several pictures. They were buzzed from the beer and kidding around."
"Do you know who was with her?" one of the sheriff's deputies asks.
"It's not clear right now, sir," he says. "It's a male, I'm feeling."
We continue. Anona comes to me and gives me what she calls a clue.
"Why would my spirit guide be showing me a single red rose?" I ask to Patrick and Oliver.
Willow snickers. "Does she watch The Bachelor?"
I try not to laugh in this solemn moment, but humor has always been key in my investigation with my ghost huntresses. Of course, Celia would have a comeback, like in The Merchant of Venice where the Bard writes, "Goodly Lord, what a witsnapper are you!" But wait—she has something...
"Talking Feathers, may I borrow your park map?" He hands it to me, and I drag my finger over the black marked trails until I see one labeled Bachelor and Three Graces. "We have to go here," I say, pointing.
"Lead the way," Oliver says.
I'm nearly out of breath when we reach the large "male" sequoia with three smaller "female" trees next to it. I move to stan
d between the bachelor and his three graces and I suddenly fall to my knees. It's like that time in ninth grade when I fell down the hill next to the church and had the wind knocked out of me. I struggle to get a good breath. Patrick rushes to my side, but Oliver holds him off.
"She's getting something," Oliver says.
"It-it-it started here," I say carefully.
"What happened?"
"The argument," I say. "Hailey is arguing with a guy. They're both ... drunk."
"The guy with the brown Timberlands?" Patrick asks.
"Yeah. It's him."
Oliver closes his eyes. "I feel their energy too. Go on, Kendall."
Patrick helps me to my feet and we stand among the trees, gripping hands. I begin to see flashes of the movie that is Hailey's last day. "She's really pissed off and doesn't want to be here. He ambushed her at her house when her friends dropped her off after their hike. They drove all night to get down here. I can't see the car."
"I can," Patrick says. "Blue Mustang from the nineties. California plates, but I can't make out the letters."
Maddie interjects, "She knew him. They'd been involved. But they broke up and he sort of lost control over losing her. He brought her here hoping to win her back with the beauty of the scenery."
"Right, but Hailey just wanted to go home," Micah adds. He stops and glances at the trees. "She knew something wasn't cool. He took her cell phone from her."
Patrick points to the road. "Hailey broke away from him. That's the residual energy Oliver is feeling. It's from their fight. He grabbed at her and Hailey took off running. That way."
Without another word, we return to the path and continue. Hailey must have been in really good shape because we keep going and going and going until we reach the fallen Wawona Tunnel Tree.
"You used to be able to drive your car through here," Ranger Allen reports.
"They were here," I say. "The argument got more heated. He took a swing at her. Hailey lunged at him and he pushed her back." My eyes cloud with the images I'm seeing of hands gripping Hailey fiercely.
Erin chimes in. "There's a class ring on the left hand of the guy. Large red stone. Like a garnet or something. This guy is losing his shit."
The Counseling Page 16
