“Yes. And the chill in the room…”
“Don’t forget the smells, Lawrence,” GM piped in. She grimaced. “Sometimes they’ve been known to have disgusting smells.”
Eyes wide, Gwen stared at each of us in turn. “You’re telling me the truth.”
“Afraid so,” I said.
“And yet,” GM added, “this doesn’t seem to frighten you. Why is that?” She looked at Gwen with frank curiosity.
“Because I find it fascinating. Did you know in physics, there’s a branch of it which is trying to figure out the relationship between consciousness and matter?” She held up her hand. “Now these researchers are kind of out there, but they’re asking some hard science questions about the nature of the mind, the body…” Her voice faded.
“And the soul,” I said.
Gwen nodded, pensively. “And the soul, yes.” She looked up at me. “You’ve seen my mother’s soul at my house, right?” When I nodded in reply, her eyes filmed with tears. “Can you communicate with her? Can you say something to her for me?”
“I don’t know, to be honest,” I said. I looked over to GM; this wasn’t anything we’ve talked about. “Can we, GM?”
“Communicate with the dead? Be a medium between the dead and the living?” She shook her head. “No. That’s not what we’re supposed to do, Keira.” She looked to Gwen. “I’m sorry, my dear, but I’m unable to be a messenger between those who have died and those of us still on this level of existence.”
“Why?” she asked, her voice rising. “It would give such comfort to those of us left behind!”
“My work is of a different nature.”
“And what is your work?”
GM sighed. “We’ll discuss that another time, dear.”
Before Gwen could push the issue, Lawrence stepped forward. “Gwen, I’d love to give you a tour of this house. Would you care to join me?”
Gwen’s lips became a thin line. “I’ll hold you to that, Mrs. York. I’d love to know just what your ‘work’ is.” She stood.
Lawrence held out the crook of his arm and she took it. “Let’s start with the top floor,” he said. “I’ll tell you the stories of Molly and Sam.” They left the room and headed for the hallway.
I turned to GM. “Well, what do you think?”
“Her concern for her father will be an issue, Keira. And what will she think when she learns of just what your duties are?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You protect The Veil, and that’s what you want me to do. So what?”
She shook her head in disappointment. “And just how do we maintain the integrity of The Veil?”
“By helping spirits move on.” I stopped and it hit me. “Oh shit.”
“Indeed.”
I looked toward the staircase where Gwen and Lawrence had ascended and lowered my voice, “Spirits like Gwen’s mother.”
GM nodded. “And how do you think she would feel about that? Losing her mother all over again?”
Damn, she was right. I sat up straight in my chair. “Hey, I didn’t say I was taking the job, GM, I was just thinking if you thought she would be a good replacement for Lawrence, should I take the job.”
She leaned over to me. “You’re going to have to make that decision quite soon, dear. As far as Gwen is concerned, I’d rather hear Lawrence’s opinion before rendering my own judgment.
I sat back in my chair. Why did she say I’d have to make up my mind soon?
***
After her tour of the house, the four of us all agreed that further discussions of the supernatural could wait for another time.
That’s not to say that the dinner wasn’t a smashing success. We had a wonderful evening together; the conversation sparkled. We discussed religion and politics roundly; it got pretty lively at times, especially when Gwen went on a tangent about Wall Street investors. But the cool thing was that each time it started getting heated, Lawrence—who woulda thunk?—defused the situation with a witty bon mot which made the rest of us start laughing.
After dessert and coffee, Gwen stood, thanked us for a wonderful evening, and got ready to leave. I saw her out.
In the foyer, I put my hand on her arm. “I hope you can keep this all confidential, Gwen.”
She looked at me with wide-eyed innocence. “What? That your grandmother loves vodka gimlets in the evening?”
“Very funny.”
“Well… I am sorely tempted to contact the National Enquirer with this story, for sure. A grandmother/granddaughter tag team of ghost hunters living with their Old Man Friday in a hundred-and-forty-year-old mansion.” She tilted her head at me. “Think they’d pay me for the tip?”
My face fell. “You’re kidding. Right?”
She slapped my back. “Of course, silly. I’d be the one who would look Looney tunes.” She looked over my shoulder toward the living room. “What I don’t understand is just what the old gal does with that gift you two share.” She turned back to me. “I mean, you could help a lot of grieving people by communicating with them you know.”
I crossed my arms. “People like you, you mean.” Boy was I stupid telling her I saw her mother’s spirit.
“Yeah, people like me!” Her eyes filmed again. “Just to be able to…”
“Tell her you love her? That you and your dad miss her?”
“Yes!”
I reached out for her. “Gwen… she knows that. And from the look on her face, she loves and misses you guys too.”
“It’s not fair. I’m her flesh and blood, and I can’t see her, but you can.” She looked at the open door. “I’m heading home. Why don’t you stop by tomorrow?”
“Okay. Maybe we’ll get an actual swim in, huh?” I knew she was planning on working on me more about communicating with her mother. And to be honest, I didn’t have a problem with it. When I put my hand on her, the black and bleak sorrow in her was almost overwhelming. I wasn’t going to stand idly by if there was anything I could do to ease such pain. No matter what GM would think of that.
We said our goodbyes and I closed the door behind her.
I raced into the living room where Lawrence and GM were sharing a nightcap. How did they do it? After downing a bottle of wine with dinner, cocktails before and still they were fine with a glass of brandy?
I took a seat across from them on the sofa. “Well?” My gaze was firmly on Lawrence.
He glanced at GM and then smiled looking at me. “Gwen is a lovely girl. She’s smart. She’s able to study hard, so she has the discipline to learn.”
My fingers fisted my hair at each side of my head. There it was again... the interminable but. “Okay, I surrender; what’s the problem?”
“I don’t think she’ll abandon her responsibilities to her father. You and she are friends but the emotional tie isn’t there.” He dropped his head. “I genuinely like her, Keira, but I’m unable to see how it could work.”
GM reached over and patted his hand. “I trust your judgment in this, dear. You may not have my abilities to the extent which I do, but still, you know the role and what it entails. If you have doubts...” she turned to look sadly at me, “...then it’s probably best to move on right now. Maybe you’ll be on your own like I was for a few years before I met Lawrence.”
My stomach dropped to the floor. For a moment I sat there silently, wondering at the depth of disappointment I was feeling. In one respect, they were right. I didn’t know Gwen very well at all... but then why was I feeling this sense of loss?
It made no sense at all, and I went to bed with a heavy heart.
TWENTY THREE
I OPENED MY EYES THE NEXT MORNING FEELING… well, sad. I know it’s stupid—I had only met Gwen a few days ago, and last night was only the fifth time we were together. But there it was. If that vision I had by her pool of us in the future at an airport was wrong, then how could I trust any of my so-called gifts? On the other hand, her ties to her father… how could I presume to come between them? So yeah, when I headed do
wn for breakfast I was sad and confused.
Seeing my expression as I entered the sunroom, GM tried to be consoling. “Keira. You will meet the right person to help you.”
“Easy for you to say, GM,” I said as I took my usual seat. “You’ve had Lawrence by your side for years and years.”
“Yes, but I did go through a period where I was on my own.” She looked sharply back at me. “What I’m trying to tell you is to be strong in and of yourself. You have a gift, and you have an important role to fulfill. So get over it and move on, young lady.”
Oh man, she went from consoling to insistent in a heartbeat. “Thanks for all the sympathy.”
She huffed. “You want sympathy? For not upsetting your friend’s life? A friend you hardly know?”
“There’s a connection between us.” I could feel my back getting up.
She snorted. “I disagree. You expect this woman to abandon her father to help you with your work?”
“Gwen wouldn’t be abandoning him! We could hire someone to look after him! What’s the big deal?”
“Keira, I don’t want you rushing into something and making a mistake. In the long run it can cost you dearly.”
I huffed out a breath. “Oh yeah? Once again, that’s pretty easy for you to say.”
That really got to her. She sat up straight, blue fire in her eyes. “You silly girl. When it comes to rushing into something with the wrong person, I certainly know what those costs can be.”
“Yeah, sure.”
She rapped the tip of her cane on the floor. “Let me tell you, being an unwed mother in the late nineteen sixties was no picnic, Keira.” Her lips made a thin line. “No matter how much wealth one had, one was always… judged. I was under considerable pressure when I learned I was pregnant.” Her mouth turned downward. “My doctor advocated giving the baby up for adoption.” She sighed. “But worse than that, Susan’s father wanted me to have an abortion.” She stared at her teacup, turning it on the saucer. “That was the last straw between us.”
I pushed my half-eaten plate of fruit and yogurt away. “Which brings up my grandfather. You told me you had no idea who he is! I found that hard to believe when you told me that. At least you’re being honest now!” If she was going to be so insistent with regards to Gwen, I was going to get a little of my own back at her.
“I had my reasons for being… misleading. I can tell you, the man who is your grandfather isn’t a man you would like to know. At one time I thought he was dashing, handsome. I didn’t want to acknowledge his darker side.”
My mouth fell open as she spoke. So she knew who it was. I was right! A picture of a dark-haired, athletic man in tennis shorts and a light shirt flashed in my mind. He was classically handsome, with dark eyes and a strong jaw. I couldn’t help but grin. It was obvious she hadn’t meant to send that image to me. I’d picked it up all on my own! “GM! He was hot!”
I stifled the chuckle which threatened to burst forth at the indignation in her eyes at me being able to grasp that image from her mind. I decided to press on about her past. “Why did you get pregnant then? Were you two guys married?”
She shook her head. “No. We were living a carefree life and I was on the pill.” She raised her eyes to mine. “Which works ninety-nine percent of the time. One time out of a hundred, it doesn’t.” She made a wistful smile. “Which is why your mother’s middle name is Oona; it was the closest I could come to One.”
I had completely forgotten about Gwen at that point; I was excited to learn about family history which had been hidden from me for so long. “So what happened? How did you guys meet?”
She made a rueful smile. “It was the Summer of Love in nineteen sixty-seven, and I was in San Francisco.” She shook her head wistfully again. “The positive energy in that place for that summer was incredible, Keira. I was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. My gifts were still merely budding.”
“No ghost nudging yet?”
“That’s right. That came later. Back then, I was able to earn my living gambling. I could pick horse races, or sporting event outcomes with astonishing accuracy. And it was through those endeavors I met David Holmes. Back then, gambling outside of Las Vegas was pretty much the purview of criminals, and David ran an establishment for the local mob in my area.”
“Ooohh.. a bad boy.”
She nodded. “He seduced me to try to learn my secrets.” She shrugged. “To be honest with you, we probably seduced each other.” Her eyes glittered. “It was torrid, let me tell you. We were both passionate—”
“You mean horny.”
“Don’t be crude. We were both passionately in love, and very strong-willed.” She paused and stared at the floor. “Being with him, though… caused my gift to develop dramatically.” She looked back up to me. “And… in some way I still don’t understand, it instilled a form of that gift within him too.”
“What do you mean?”
“He started to develop powerful hunches about people.”
“He could read minds too?”
“Not to the degree you and I are able to, no. But he could tell people’s desires… and their weaknesses.” She held up a finger. “And that extra… edge, or whatever it was… he used to advance himself up the ranks of his organization.”
“He became a mob boss? Like a Godfather type?”
“He became ruthless, yes. But he always stayed behind the scenes.” She shook her head. “That sort of life was repugnant to me, and so I left him. I changed my name and disappeared.”
“He never tried to find you or his daughter? That’s cold.”
GM smiled. “When a person with my abilities decides they don’t wish to be found, they’re not found, Keira.”
“So where is he now?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve hesitated to keep tabs on him in order to keep your mother—and you—safe from him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Before I left him, he was becoming more and more evil, Keira. He had a taste of the power from the beyond and found it intoxicating. He wanted that power for his own ends, not for a greater good. I use my gifts to bring peace to lost souls. He uses what he has to further his own ends. The further you keep yourself from him, the better, Keira.” She blinked and her eyes closed for a few moments. “Promise me, you will never try to contact him.” Her eyes became misty as she gazed at me. “It’s for you... your safety that I ask this. Promise me.”
My shoulders fell lower and I exhaled slowly. This was really important to her, if she was on the verge of tears. “I promise.”
She straightened and her chin rose, pushing up from the chair. “Good. Now if you’re ready, I think we should have another go at contacting Jarrod. He’s waited long enough to leave this sphere, don’t you think?”
I sighed. Back to the ghost grind, Keira.
TWENTY FOUR
FOR A MOMENT, I PAUSED before getting to my feet to join her. She’d just dumped a load of information on me and now was brushing it off like the lint she was perpetually finding with her thin fingers. It would take some serious willpower to not do a Google search for my grandfather... but I’d give it a try for her sake.
I took a deep breath, shaking the image of my grandfather from my brain. It was immediately replaced by another disturbing thought. “We aren’t going to use the Ouija board again, are we?” I asked.
Haunted Hideout: Paranormal Suspense (The Haunted Ones Book 1) Page 34
