by Lucia Kuhl
"You need to stay here. I’ll be right back. Blake opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. From the window, I watched him go to his car and retrieve a phone. "Call your company and tell them we are holding you for your protection."
"I can’t. A courier is delivering my resignation as we speak. I set it up before I left."
Arie shook his head.
"When are you going to trust me?"
"Working on it. I've been alone a long time. Talking about trust, you still have my keys and wallet.
He looked into my eyes.
"I want you to hear this. You were never alone. Just too stubborn to call." He pulled my keys out of his pocket and threw them to me. "Your wallet is locked in your car."
"Thank You."
"Don't leave, Faith. There's more you need to know."
CHAPTER 14
A few minutes later, Arie and Blake were called to another assignment. The house immediately felt empty. The two of them took up a lot of space. They also made me feel safe and distracted me from the decision before me. Either I stayed here, or I left and disappeared.
Leaving was easy. Staying meant feeding the oldest dried bone. Was I ready for messy?
Arie was as nice as Arie could be because no one messed with his family, but sooner or later, his dislike of everything I was would reappear.
Vito was already on the scene. Family was messy. Especially our family. And Arie had a "new" daughter. A daughter who'd lost both the parents she knew, and now she had Arie. Emotionally distant Arie. Arie who thought feelings were worse than criminals. Poor kid.
But it wasn't my place to be a mother for his daughter. I could be an aunt. Would Arie even let me near his daughter? Staying and dealing with the family was scarier than dealing with a crazed killer. No. Two crazed killers. The serial killer and Mr. Raymont's murderer.
But I had Sampson to think of now. We'd only been home a few hours, and already he was in love with his pen. I'd seen a flyer for a pet store opening in Abracadabra—which was a strange place to open a pet store—when I was inside Arie's house. It had been ages since Abracadabra was a town. From what I could tell, the pet shop didn’t appear to be open yet, but I thought I'd seen a website. If we were staying, helping the local businesses would be an excellent start to laying roots. Funny Arie hadn't mentioned a new business opening in town. Maybe that was part of the "more I needed to know."
Sampson did love it here. And I fully believed that when you took on a pet, it was a lifetime commitment. Of course, if a serial killer was after me, my lifetime wasn't very long, and Sampson was in the line of fire.
I needed these murders behind me, and running away and disappearing didn't seem like the solution, no matter how easy it seemed. So next question. If I stayed, what would I do with myself? I could start my own Feng Shui company. I'd signed a non-compete to not work within two hundred miles of Los Angeles, but I was hundreds of miles away, so no problem. I'd be starting from scratch. There was nothing to stop me from using my former employer's name in my biography.
Sampson's care meant I couldn’t travel, as I had. I wouldn't be able to charge the prices my former employer did, but I didn't need the money. I had socked away a tidy sum over the years. My home was paid for. So, my living expenses were taxes, food, clothes, utilities, toys for Sampson, and a vehicle. Not zero, but not impossible.
However, I had a better idea. I wanted to start a Flower Farm. I needed to use a few acres of my land, and I needed some help.
So much to think about. Time for a walk and a trip to the grocery store.
CHAPTER 15
Sampson must read minds because the minute I rose from my chair, he hopped out of his bed, crossed the room, and tugged his leash from the hook.
"That's right, Sampson. It's time for a walk." By the time I slipped into my boots, placed my phone in my jacket pocket, and pulled on my mittens, he was seated in front of the door, willing it to open. I grabbed the leash loop and turned the doorknob. We were off on today's adventure. The air was crispy but not intolerable.
The Flower Farm was in the hazy wave stage in my mind. I thought it was a great idea, and I had some plans, but I needed to work out all the other details. Which piece of property would be best? Zoning? Taxes? Water supply? Building codes? Access? Traffic flow? Should I start this season or wait until next? What would season one look like? Goals for season two? What metrics would I use for success? How would I advertise and market my business? Should I add a floral shop? The one in Abracadabra had closed last month. The physical shop wasn't in the best place. I'd have to hire two staffs. There wasn't a shop in Moon Lake. The closest were either Plymouth, or South Bend, or North Liberty. Did I want to run a floral shop? I'd have to hire staff. If I opened The Flower Farm, how would I run my Feng Shui Practice?
I’d heard Aunt Georgia was thinking of closing the interior decor showroom. How would or could that fit into The Floral Farm and my consultations? If I stayed, and for Sampson’s sake, I was leaning that direction, did I want to work as much? I never saw my apartment in L.A. because I was on the road constantly. I wanted to live in my home, furnished with my taste, surrounded by things I loved. If I worked twenty-four-seven, would it be that much different than the constant travel? Probably not. The only difference was my wardrobe would stay in the same closet, and I'd have to dust and cook.
Most of the property in Abracadabra belonged to the Bracken Family Trust. I owned a piece of that property. We'd never decided which property belonged to whom. Nothing Fancy technically belonged to all of us, but in practice, it was Arie's to do with as he saw fit. I had my choice. Where would I put The Flower Farm? The smartest thing for me to do was take over Aunt Georgia's shop and run my Feng Shui Business out of her storefront.
But I didn't want to forget it. It had been calling me since I performed a consultation for a flower farm on the West Coast. That day, I stood on the pacific coast, and yet I stood in Abracadabra at the same time. It had been the weirdest of the weird experiences in my life. And I knew ‘weird.’
Sampson yanking on his chain pulled me from my thoughts. A black and white rabbit darted inches in front of Sampson and ran around him. Sampson, who was tethered to me, wasn’t happy. He wanted to chase his new friend. He lunged, pulling me with him. I knew he wanted to run, but he hadn't yet been adequately trained. He took off. I had no choice. I did my best to keep up. The rabbit zigged and zagged. It would stop, peek from behind a tree, and zip off again. The crazy little critter was fast. It stopped in front of a mugo pine, watched us, making sure we were following him and darted towards a clump of dead weeds. Did it want us to follow it? Sometimes when animals are hurt, another animal will instinctively know humans can help. Was that happening now? Was it leading me to my doom?
We must have followed that rabbit for fifteen minutes before it disappeared behind a rock not far from the old magic factory. When Abracadabra deserved a place on the map, The Abracadabra Magic Factory had been the anchor of Abracadabra. Today, it was an abandoned factory consisting of one grand brick building, two smaller brick buildings, and several pole barns. Sampson and I stood at the mouth of the lane which led into the factory grounds. A little rabbit popping out of a hat statue pointed traffic toward the factory. I guessed it was fitting the rabbit led us here.
I'd forgotten how beautiful this piece of ground to the south of the factory was. A creek wound in a meandering path to a large pond further south. The Bracken Family Trust paid taxes on the old factory. Perhaps it was time to get some use out of the building and combine the floral shop and flower farm into one spot. Although heating the main building would be astronomical. But it was a thought. And today was about ideas.
I believe in a good plan, but I had also learned that true inspiration came when doing the work. Today I was doing the work and getting the feel. Thinking. This piece of land felt right. The urge to take my shoes off and soak up the energy emanating from the earth overwhelmed my senses, but it was cold, and the ground was slightl
y frozen. My feet would not be happy if I succumbed to my urges.
"This spot is perfect," a voice said.
I jumped. Sampson didn't move. So much for him being a watchdog.
"What the heck?" I turned in a circle. No one seemed to be anywhere.
"You are not crazy," the voice said. "You just aren't ready to see me."
Not sure a disembodied voice was the best judge of my mental health.
"Who or what are you?"
"I'm a Lighter," it said. Okay, now inanimate objects were talking to me. Did it want me to build a fire?
"Like a Bic?" What a stupid question. But what does one say to a voice without a body?
"No, think Witch, Ghost, or Alchemist 5.0."
Yeah, right. Not crazy. Sure! I couldn’t get a read. Was it male or female? The voice was thin and high but not squeaky.
"I don't think I can think that. What do you want?"
"In good time, my dear. In good time."
That wasn't an answer. I couldn't even comprehend.
"If you aren't going to tell me what you want, why did you speak to me?"
"You're a thinker, aren't you? Well, I wanted to tell you, you are right where the grand plan needs you to be. I want you to get used to noticing those times when you are in the in-between."
My legs felt shaky. My brain had to be playing tricks on me. That was the only explanation. I needed to get back. I needed real food. I needed to go grocery shopping. I needed to get away from this spot and regain my sanity.
"It won't work, the voice said. You can't run. You’ve been doing that for a very long time. You need to heal those demons of yours before you can plant your dreams."
OMG. That comment stopped me in my tracks. I spun around again, attempting to find the location of the voice—that phrase. What I didn’t tell Arie and Blake is that when I tried to grab the paper the phrase was written on off the body, it disappeared in my hand. At the time, I thought it was made of acid, and I'd probably lose my hand. Instead, nothing happened. Except now I was crazy.
"You are not crazy. Stop thinking that. You have more important work to do."
"But you aren't going to tell me what that is." Where was the voice coming from? I couldn't get a fix on it. It was sometimes all around me and sometimes in one place.
"I just did. Notice when you enter the in-between."
"And I told you I don't know what that is."
"Yes, you do. I’ll expect you to explain it to me in a few days. Think of it as your homework."
"Did you kill those men?" I asked. Until an hour ago, when I told Arie and Blake, no one knew about the phrase. Did someone have my house or phone bugged?
"No, I did not. I merely used the killer's actions to push you along your path. Do your homework.” I wasn’t sure if I felt or experienced a woosh. The presence was gone.
I glanced at Sampson. He sat on my right foot, staring in the direction the voice had last been.
"Sampson, I wish you could talk. It would be nice to know you heard the voice too."
"If I said I did. You'd think you were crazy talking to a dog." I heard Sampson think. He was right. I was only more freaked—time to get some groceries. We jogged back to the house and headed for the grocery store. I could not process this. It didn't happen. It didn't happen. It sooo didn’t happen.
CHAPTER 16
It was after 6 pm. I was just about to fix a sandwich from the bags of groceries on the counter when Sampson chased from the living room to the kitchen, into the open pantry door, and back towards the front door. The sound of car doors slamming renewed my faith in Sampson's future as a watchdog. It was nice to know his antics weren't a message to feed him. I was still learning to speak Sampson. I found myself hoping the car belonged to Blake.
It wasn’t. Parked in my driveway was a Prius. Lizzie Raymont Makey and her husband stomped towards the house. Charles yelled into his phone. As they grew closer, I determined the target of his ire was the car rental company. My guess, Charles thought the Prius was not up to his standards. Lizzie looked old and tired. Her internal vibrancy gone. Of course, she'd just lost her father. I went onto the porch to greet my old friend.
Stepping through the door, I opened my arms to hug her on the porch. Lizzie immediately backed up. Charles towered over me. Sampson pushed his way between us and sat on my foot.
"Lizzie, I am so sorry. Your father was such a dear man."
"How could you?" she said. "My father bent over backward for you. There were times I thought he loved you more than he loved me. How could you do it to him?"
Sampson growled, and I reached down to pick him up. Holding him gave me an excuse to hug myself.
"I don't… I don't… I don't understand." The words seemed stuck in my mouth. Sadness weighed down on me.
"Someone is killing your clients, and you led them straight to my father. Why? Why, Faith? Why would you do that?"
Sampson growled louder—most likely because I was squeezing him. I didn't know what to say, do, or feel. Numbness was all I had to offer.
"Would you like to sit down?" I motioned to the living room. "I just moved home last night. The groceries are still in bags, or I'd offer you something."
"We don't want anything but an explanation." Lizzie's voice trailed off into tears. Her body shook. I wanted to comfort my friend, but what could I do?
"Lizzie, we were friends. I loved your family. What makes you think I'd put your family in harm's way?"
"When everyone around you ends up dead, there has to be something wrong with you." She said, shredding a tissue.
Anger like I had never known shot up my body. My presence shook.
"If you believe that, what are you doing here?"
Immediately, I regretted my words.
"There are two of us, and you wouldn't kill us on your own property," Charles said.
So, he thought I was a serial killer. Even if the bodies stopped dropping, and despite I always had an alibi, this case would haunt me forever unless the real killer was convicted.
"Are you sure about that?"
As soon as I'd asked that question, I felt even worse. What was up with my mouth? Lizzie had just lost her father. Mr. Raymont was a larger-than-life character. As strange as my parents were, I knew I was lucky they were both alive.
"Are you threatening us?" Charles said.
I hung my head.
"Of course not. Lizzie and I are friends. Look, I didn't know I was doing a consultation for your dad until the night before. The murders happened on the West Coast. I don't know why I am the one to always trip over the body, but I am. That doesn't mean he's killing because of me. Usually, Bonnie assigns clients at the last minute. It's not like I have time to plan their murders.
Charles’ phone dinged. He grabbed Lizzie's elbow and hauled her towards the door.
"Time to go."
"Lizzie, please believe me. I am so sorry." She looked at me and then turned and allowed Charles to drag her to the car.
CHAPTER 17
Even though it was cold, I sat on the porch for a while. The crisp fresh air felt calming after the drama. I wanted to sit there forever, but I remembered the frozen food in the grocery bags. On some level, I must have decided to stay in Abracadabra because there was enough food in these bags to feed ten Pro-Football teams. Ten! And it took three times longer to put things away because I constantly needed to stop and dry my eyes with a paper towel. Good thing I'd packed those on top.
How in the world could Lizzie think I intentionally had anything to do with her father's murder? And then another difference between Mr. Raymont's death and the other murders hit me. All the others had been on my schedule a few days in advance. The times and cities were blocked out on my calendar several days in advance. Mr. Raymont had been a last-minute addition. It wasn’t uncommon. It made sense if one of us was going to be in the area to add another client to our calendar, but all the deaths had been on my calendar at least a week in advance. That was a lead, right?
&nb
sp; Who should I tell? Harvey had been a jerk, and I wasn't sure whose side he was on. Arie and Blake could get into big trouble if they meddled. So, who should I tell? It was time to place a call to Blister. Blister I knew I could trust.
He picked up on the first ring.
"Hey, Lazy Butt, you are the talk of the office."
"Have they sent a team to clear my apartment?"
"Of course, and they found you'd already up and left. Junior is flipping mad, and I do mean flipping. Fire came out of his ears, nostrils, and his mouth all at the same darn time. Most entertaining day we've ever had here in sunny California."
"Well, I'm glad I could add some excitement to your work life. I need some help."
"Sure thing, Sexy Bottom. Tell me whatcha need."
"I'm going to give you a few dates and times. Can you tell me when the appointments were actually made?"
"Girl, you know I can. If Bonnie did her job correctly, I could tell you almost anything you want to know. I'll hit you back when I have your answer."
"You are my favorite man."
"Don't I know it, darling. On a serious side. You okay?"
"Yes. I think I am. I loved my job, but I think I'll be happy moving on."
"Catch you later, My Queen.”
"Bye, Blister."
I realized I hadn't lied. It was time for me to put on my big girl underwear and explore the maze of complications that was and is my family. If the serial killer was going to take me out. I wanted to be at peace with my family, no matter how screwed up they were. I also wanted to be at peace with my best childhood friend.
Lizzie was hurt. She didn't really believe I killed or had anything to do with her father's death. The way we left things made me feel horrible.
CHAPTER 18
I sat on the couch and wrapped myself in an Alpaca throw. I didn't usually splurge, but this throw had been a splurge well worth it. I'd sent it home after I'd bought it. I'd been waiting a long time for this moment. Too bad I couldn't fully enjoy it.
