“Ms…” I pause for a moment. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Brady. Mrs. Margaret Brady,” she says, and then is overcome with a hacking cough. I peek over at Rob and I can tell he’s holding his breath. I can’t believe I got him into this.
“Mrs. Brady, could you please tell me who used to rent this house?”
“Why ya asking?” Her intonation is harsh, but I suspect she has a softer side.
“The people you rented this house to – did they happen to have any children? Daughters, maybe?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what she had. She rented the house a few years back. Of course, the house was in a little better condition back then. Why are you asking?”
I sigh and look at Rob, who is standing in the corner fighting with a cobweb that’s gotten caught on his shoe. “I was just hoping you could tell me something about them – anything.”
Margaret looks me over for a third time. “Yeah, I can do that. But it might cost ya.”
“Yes, that’s fine. Of course, I will pay you for your time.”
“Okay, then. Let’s get out of this place and go over to my house, where it’s a bit more comfortable.”
We all step outside and Margaret pulls the door closed.
“I’ve been meaning to get a new lock put on this door. Ever since the neighborhood kids figured out that no one lives here, they’ve been breaking in and using it as their clubhouse or something.”
Rob and I follow Ms. Brady next door. From the outside, it seems identical to the house we just came from, although it’s in slightly better condition. The two front windows are wide open and the drapes are blowing in the wind.
“I guess that’s how you knew we were in there?” Rob points to the open window.
“Yup. I always keep Grady around, just in case I see any of those kids trying to break in.”
“Grady?” Rob furrows his brow.
“Grady.” Margaret repeats, holding up the aluminum bat.
The house has a surprisingly homey feel. We follow Margaret to a small sitting area, where she sits in a chair placed right beside the window. She places her hands on the worn-out arms and pushes back, reclining her legs. “Well?”
“Well, what?” I say.
“Well, don’t just stand there, sit down and tell me what you’d like to know.” Beside her chair is a small table covered with a nicotine-stained doily. Although she’s rough around the edges, there’s something I can’t help but like about her. Rob and I take a seat on the sofa beside her chair and he nudges me with his elbow.
“Say something,” he mumbles.
“So, what can you tell me about the woman who rented that house?” I finally say.
“Well, let’s see now.” She takes a moment to think. “I first met the mother about five – no, six years ago. I had a ‘For Rent’ sign out front. Like I said before, the house was in a little better condition back then.” As if suddenly struck by nostalgia, Margaret goes off on a sudden tangent. “Ya know, my husband Liam and I bought these two properties almost fifty years ago. Back then, it was just land. He built both houses all by himself.”
“That’s pretty impressive,” Rob chimes in.
“Not for Liam. He was wonderful with his hands, and I do mean wonderful.” She lowers her glasses and gives me a wink. I smile – I knew I liked her. “Anyway, we figured we’d use the second house as an investment property and we’d keep this one to raise a family. Sadly, the children never came, but we managed to have a nice life here, anyway. We rented to a lot of families throughout the years. Unfortunately, as time went on, Liam just couldn’t keep up with the repairs. He suffered with arthritis something terrible. The house became run-down, the tenants moved out, and no one else wanted to rent from us, no one until that young mother. She had two girls – pretty little things. So sweet and well-mannered.” My thoughts swirl.
“Do you know their names? Is there anything else you could tell us about them?” Rob asks.
“You mean you don’t know?” Margaret says solemnly. “I would have bet dollars to donuts that you were here about the accident.”
“Accident?” Rob says.
“What accident?” I chime in, my voice overlapping his.
“Oh yes, there was a terrible car accident. Mrs. Sullivan, Lena Sullivan, was killed in the crash; her eldest daughter was hurt really badly, too.”
“Was her daughter’s name Cas?” I ask with a lump in my throat.
“Let’s see, now… no, that’s not ringing any bells. The little girl must have been around four or five, and her name was Lily. I’ll always remember that, because the Lily is one of my favorite flowers—”
“What was the older sister’s name?” I interrupt.
“I can’t remember now. That’s the trouble with getting old; you forget all kinds of things. What did you say her name was?”
“Cas. I thought maybe that was Lena’s daughter,” I press.
“Oh, yes. I guess that would make sense. Sometimes, I just don’t know where my mind is.”
“Margaret? What are you talking about?” I can tell Rob is losing his patience with the old woman.
“Cas – it must have been short for Cassidy. That was her name, Cassidy.”
As Margaret drones on about what a beautiful name Cassidy is, I notice her face suddenly start to change form. The lines around her eyes begin to fade, her cheeks begin to plump; her grayish hue is suddenly replaced with a rosy complexion. Her eye color changes from a foggy gray to a warm brown. “Cas?” I shout.
“That’s right. Her name was Cassidy,” Margaret repeats.
I turn to Rob, who is busy looking around the house, obviously anxious to head for the door running. “Please tell me you see what I do?” I ask, breathless.
“The world’s largest collection of shot glasses?” He points to a cluttered china closet.
“No!” I nudge my head at Margaret as she rambles on about how she would have named her daughter Alice, if she ever had one.
“What?” Rob whispers under his breath.
I shake my head at him, not wanting Margaret to think we are rude.
“What would you have named a son?” I ask, trying to stay calm.
“Let’s see now. Well, I guess I would have named him Liam, after my husband.”
“That’s very nice.” I rub my eyes to try and wipe the image from my sight.
“Elle, are you feeling all right? What is it?” Rob touches my knee.
“Are you okay? I’ve been going on and on and never asked you kids if you’d like something to drink. Maybe you’re just thirsty.”
“No, thank you. I’m okay. I just thought I saw something.” I put my head in my hands for a moment and take a few deep breaths. When I look back at Margaret, she is herself again.
I guess I’ll never know what to expect – not while Cas is around. I decide to take what happened as a sign that I’m doing the right thing. “So, is there anything else you can tell us about that accident? Like what happened to Cas? Cassidy, that is.”
“Well, after the mother passed, some relatives came and took the girls away.”
“You mean like their father?” Rob asks.
“No, it wasn’t their father. Not that I was ever formally introduced to their father, but I did see Lena with a man a few times before, and I think I may have overheard the girls calling him ‘Dad.’ I also got the impression that he was the one paying the rent. Not that I’m a busybody or anything.”
“Why did you think that?” Rob asks. “You know, that he was paying the rent?”
“Well, one day when I was gazing out the window – not snooping or anything,” Rob looks at me and grins, “I saw that same man hand her a blue envelope with green writing on it. She always paid her rent in a blue envelope with green writing. I just put two and two together and assumed he was giving her the money. I can’t be sure, though. They always paid cash, which I appreciated.”
“Margaret, you were saying that the g
irls moved in with relatives, after the accident,” I urge. “Do you know who?”
“No, unfortunately. A few weeks after the accident, a moving van came and picked up all their belongings. The girls’ new caregiver stopped by and gave me the lasts month’s rent. I asked her how the girls were doing and she told me that the oldest, Cassidy, was doing the same.”
“What does that mean?”
“The accident made her a vegetable. You know, all she could do was lie there.”
“What? This doesn’t make any sense.” I turn to Rob. “I don’t see her like that!”
“What about the sister? Did anything happen to Lily?” Rob asks.
“No, I think she was okay. Such a sweet little thing. She used to always wave whenever she passed my window. It really was a shame about the older girl, though. I heard she was something special.
“What do you mean? What did you hear?” I ask.
“I don’t know much, but I remember reading an article about how she was born with extra senses or something. Then one day I heard some of the neighborhood kids talking. Maybe she was like that girl, Carrie, who could move things with her mind. That was one crazy movie, Carrie.”
“Is there anything else that you can tell us? Anything at all?”
“Let me see, now… oh yes, the older daughter liked to paint. I used to see her sometimes out on the porch, painting, and there was also a couple of times I’d stop in to pick up the rent and I’d see her painting away. The house used to smell like the stuff.”
“That would explain it,” I say to Rob. I turn back to Margaret. “Mrs. Brady, I would like to thank you for taking the time to speak with us. I am going to leave you my phone number.” I stand from the couch and rummage through my bag for a pen and a piece of paper. I pull out an envelope and start to write my name on the back.
“Can I see that?” Margaret holds out her hand.
Margaret turns the envelope over and has a better look. “Yup, no doubt about it! KC Realty LLC – I remember reading that.” She looks at us like we’re imbeciles. “See the envelope? It’s green and blue, like I told ya. This is the envelope they used to put their rent money in – KC Realty.”
I turn to Rob and try to keep my composure. “Rob, those are my mother’s envelopes. They’re from her agency – Katherine Collins Realty.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Why are you so quiet this morning?” Kate flashes me a glare before making a right-hand turn on Ashton. I stare out the passenger window and watch the world go by. Everyone seems to be in such a hurry. For what?
We stop at a red light, which I have begun to dread. Kate seems to perceive red stop lights as a green light for her to talk.
“I know something is bothering you. You haven’t said a word since breakfast. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” I can feel her eyes boring into the side of my face.
“I’m fine,” I say.
“You seem fine,” she says sarcastically.
“Just, please hurry. I don’t want to be late for my session.”
“I don’t want to be in a car accident just so you can arrive a few minutes early.”
I am definitely getting to her, even though I didn’t want to cause an argument. I just don’t know how to approach her. My own mother suddenly feels like a complete stranger.
We pull in front of the Carmichaels’, and Kate turns off the ignition. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Her face is a mixture of anger and sadness.
“Nothing is wrong,” I lie. “I’m just in a bad mood. After everything I’ve been through, don’t you think I’m entitled to have a bad day?”
“Of course you’re entitled,” she says calmly. “I just want to make sure you’re okay, especially after all you’ve been through.” A pang of guilt creeps inside me.
“Look, I’m not mad at you. I’m just having a bad day, okay?”
She nods sympathetically. “I was just worried. I know the doctors say that everything looks good physically but…” She purses her lips together, seeming to gather her thoughts. “I know that having someone else’s… organ… can affect people in different ways, and I know you already had that strange memory the morning you woke up from surgery.” I nod my head to show I’m listening. “Well, I just want you to know that if anything else happens, I’m here for you.”
I have to fight not to tell her about all that’s happened, but until I can figure everything out, I don’t know what to say. At least I have Rob, even if he is dating Jessica. I need to know that there is at least one person I can trust.
“I know, Mom. It’s not like that. Maybe I’ll feel better after I meditate a bit.” I smile and exit the car. I can already see Jocelyn stretching on the front porch. My mother pulls the car away with the crunch of gravel under the tires, and I walk toward the house.
“Hello, Elle.” Jocelyn’s hands are placed on her hips and she sways from side to side. She is wearing parachute pants and a long, brightly colored tunic.
“Elle, is everything okay?” Jocelyn asks.
“Yes, fine,” I lie. “Why?” I try not to cringe. At times, I completely forget that Jocelyn is psychic.
“You just seem a little upset, that’s all.” She touches my forehead with the back of her hand. “Are you feeling all right? You know Scott will be home a little later, if you want him to check you out.” A few weeks ago, this offer would have been the highlight of my week, but now things are different. I wonder if he was on a date with Greta last night. The thought of it makes my skin crawl.
“I don’t think that will be necessary. The transplant team has been monitoring me really closely, and I’ve been taking all my meds.”
“Good girl. How about we go inside and get started on our session? Unless you’d like to do some of our activities outside?”
“Go inside.” It’s her voice in my head. She shows me an open door.
“I think I’d rather work inside today. It’s a little too chilly,” I say.
“Look at that!”
I turn. “What?”
“It’s a dragonfly – it landed right on your shoulder.” Jocelyn holds her index finger like a perch. “You know, some people believe that dragonflies are used by spirits to bring messages to their loved ones.”
“Really?” Although interesting, I sometimes question the validity of Jocelyn’s claims. “I’ve never heard that before.”
“Yes, there are many ways that spirits can manipulate the real world and send messages to their loved ones.” She stares at me for a moment, as if thinking about how to broach the next topic. “Speaking of spirits, have you had any other strange experiences?”
“No, I haven’t,” I lie. After our last meeting, I decided to tread lightly.
“Elle, I want you to feel comfortable talking with me about anything strange you might be experiencing. It’s important that you speak with someone who understands what you’re going through.” She reaches out and touches my shoulder, giving me a sympathetic stare.
“I appreciate that, Jocelyn, but I’m fine, really.” I might be trying to convince myself, as well as her. If she doesn’t have a vision to the contrary, then she just might believe me.
“Why don’t we go inside and start our session?” I suggest. “I’ve been feeling a little stiff around my shoulders.” I lock together the fingers of both hands and stretch my arms out in front of me. “I think some yoga is just what I need.”
“I agree.” Jocelyn holds open the front door and we step inside. “Most people don’t realize the benefits of yoga.” She continues down the long hall toward the basement stairs. I walk behind her, looking around.
“Go ahead.” She holds out her arm, gesturing for me to lead the way. As I enter the studio, I can’t help but feel an immediate sense of peace. The calming scent of lavender fills the air, and the relaxing sounds of nature echo in the background. I take a yoga mat that’s tucked inside one of the cubbies lining the studio wall, and then slip off my sneakers and place them inside the cubby, al
ong with my wristlet and keys. Jocelyn’s mat is already spread out on the floor. I bet she spends hours down here. I unroll my mat and sit beside her, mimicking her cross-legged position.
“Let’s begin by taking in a long, deep breath. We are going to hold it for a count of three, and then we’ll exhale for a count of three.” I start clearing my mind, something I would have thought to be impossible before I entered the studio. However, my body begins to relax into the familiar scenario. I take in a long deep breath and count to three. My mind is really beginning to clear.
“Upstairs.” It’s the voice. I open one eye and peek around the room, not sure what I expect to see. I look over at Jocelyn, who appears to be in a deep, meditative state. “Go upstairs.” Cas’s voice is a soft, undeniable whisper. I swallow hard and feel my heart – her heart – beating faster. My palms are suddenly coated with sweat. I’m having a panic attack in one of the most relaxing places imaginable.
I stand and loudly clear my throat. Jocelyn opens her eyes. “Is everything okay, Elle?”
“I have to use the restroom.” Although I know there is a restroom downstairs, a trip to the toilet is the best excuse I can come up with.
“Oh, of course. The toilet isn’t working in the studio lavatory, however. The strangest thing – it just stopped flushing this morning. Scott will need to have a look at it later. You can just use the bathroom upstairs, I suppose. Sorry for the trouble.”
If Cas can throw a frame across the dresser, I’m sure it is possible for her to break a toilet, too.
“I can show you where the bathroom is.” Jocelyn starts to unfold her legs.
“No,” I quickly say. “I know where the bathroom is. Please, continue with what you’re doing.” Jocelyn shrugs her shoulders and closes her eyes again, almost instantly returning to her relaxing state. I still feel pretty shaken up, and plead telepathically with Cas to send me some more signs. I make my way up the stairs, and the floorboard creaks beneath my foot as I step into the main floor hall. My stomach is churning, overwhelmed with the feeling I am doing something wrong, even though Cas is telling me to press on. I walk down the hall, gliding my fingers along the chair rail. I step into the living room and scan the photos placed around the room.
The Divine Heart Page 11
