A Song of Redemption

by Lillian I Wolfe

  “And it’s not provable,” Moss grumbled.

  “Hold on,” Hernandez said, holding up a hand toward his partner. “Let’s hear her out.” He leaned forward onto his forearms, ready to listen. “What exactly did you see?”

  So I told him about the yiaiwa rising out of Mr. Staunton and disappearing and that I was familiar with that type of spirit as I’d seen them before.

  “Where?” Hernandez asked.

  “I can’t tell you. It would only complicate your case more,” I answered. Once started on this path of confessing to the otherworld activity, the road leads to more confusion and deception. In the long run, it probably wouldn’t help Mr. Staunton.

  “Great,” Moss said, turning back to face me again. “This has to do with your psychic crap, doesn’t it?”

  I nodded. “In a way. What I know isn’t going to help you with this case. But I will get Janna’s real killer. Trust me on that.”

  Moss heaved a sigh. “Just don’t kill somebody and make me arrest you for it.”

  He paused, ran a hand through his hair, then set his mouth in a serious line. “The real problem is that it tracks with what Staunton is claiming. He says he doesn’t have any recollection at all of picking up a gun, using it, shooting anybody, or even how he got from the end of the buffet table nearest the stage to where he was when he collapsed. He said he felt that shock of pain in his chest, screamed, and his legs gave out under him. When he came to his senses, people were yelling, and the gun was lying on the floor near him.”

  I nodded, not saying anything more.

  “You sure there’s nothing else you can tell us?”

  “Hey, here you are,” Ferris’s voice called out.

  I turned my head toward him as he strode down the back parking to where we were sitting. He was my backup rescue unless they arrested me.

  Moss gave him a short acknowledgment as he shot a glance at Hernandez. “Since you’re here, Mr. Halliday, we can take your statement as well.”

  “Sure,” Ferris answered sliding onto the bench next to me. Subtly, he caught my hand under the table and squeezed it for reassurance.

  Moss motioned to Hernandez to turn the recorder back on. “We’re recording this, so anything you say is officially on the books. Tell us what happened at the event yesterday.”

  Ferris took a breath and began speaking, telling him about the gig and how he and I were playing on the stage when the first shot was fired. “I shot a glance at Gillian once I realized what it was, and she’d seen the panic starting in the crowd already. I motioned her to the floor and took a dive to under the piano. She crawled over there and was just sliding under when we saw Janna jerk and fall from another shot. Gillian screamed and flung her hands out in a panic toward Janna. Then—”

  “How many shots were fired before the one that hit Ms. Lewis?” Moss interrupted.

  “I’m pretty sure there were three,” Ferris answered, his voice sounding strained. “The shot that hit our friend was the fourth.”

  Moss made a note and said, “Go on.”

  “Then Gillian crawled off the stage and jumped down. The gunman screamed at the same time and collapsed to the floor. Gillian ran to Janna to try to help. I followed her over. That was it. People were wounded, Janna died, and I stayed with Gillian until the deputies arrived.”

  “Did you notice where the gun was at this time?”

  “It had fallen to the floor when the gunman fell and was lying there, about two feet from him.”

  “Did anyone else touch it?” Moss asked.

  Ferris shook his head. “Not that I saw.”

  “Okay. One last question for you. Did you see a beam of lightning burst across the room and hit Mr. Staunton, the shooter?”

  “No,” Ferris answered decisively.

  “You’re certain?” Moss persisted.

  “I wasn’t looking at him at the time. I was watching Janna fall. I didn’t look toward the shooter until he screamed.”

  “Okay.” He signaled a cutoff to stop the recorder, which Hernandez did. “I guess that’s it. If you want to tell us anything else, Ms. Foster, you know how to reach me. We appear to have our perp, and we’ll proceed from here. I am truly sorry for your loss.”

  “I am, too,” Hernandez said kindly. He nodded at both of us and followed Moss back down the parking toward the end of the shops.

  Quietly, Ferris asked, “Did you tell them anything?”

  “A little. Not about the blast, but about the yiaiwa, although I didn’t go into any detail other than to say that a spirit had taken over Staunton’s body. That’s one thing that Gavin had suspected that is correct. They use our bodies when they’re on this plane.” I deeply regretted he’d been right about it. If I’d seen that yiaiwa before it had attacked Janna, she would still be alive. I had no doubts that it intentionally killed my best friend to get to me.

  Chapter 6

  “HOLD STILL,” I HISSED at the longhaired miniature Collie that fidgeted under my grooming. I’d almost nicked his ear once already, and if he kept up, he would increase the odds I might do worse on his tail.

  “You losing your touch?” Heeni called from her workstation where she pampered a golden-haired Shih Tzu into a round ball of fluff with eyes.

  “Maybe. At least with this one. I didn’t sleep well last night. Besides KC is always a nervous pup. He just seems more so today.” Saying I didn’t sleep well was an understatement. I’d barely slept at all as I kept tossing, turning, and jerking awake the whole night. Nygard had given up midway through the bed athletics and gone to sleep on the armchair near the bed. I couldn’t blame him.

  Every time I nearly drifted off, I kept seeing Janna being hit, the blood blossoming on her dress, and the yiaiwa rising out of Staunton, his creepy red eyes glaring straight at me in defiance and challenge. I’d jerk awake and break out in tears of sorrow and anger.

  Worse, underneath it all, guilt slugged at me. Her death was my fault, not directly, but nonetheless on me. If I hadn’t been pulled into this demon-fighting gig, this wouldn’t have happened. Now, if I didn’t give Moss the whole story, an innocent man would be convicted of Janna’s murder. But the truth wouldn’t help him much if we had no way to prove it.

  When Ferris and I had gone to the theater recently to see a musical, I’d told him that I’d wished I’d pursued a musical theater career instead of trying to break out as a singer and performer. Maybe I would have moved away and done stage work. I might not have fallen on ice ending up with a superpower. He’d scoffed at that assertion, saying that if I were destined for it, it would have found me anyway. Maybe, but maybe not.

  In this game, demons sat on pinheads waiting for me to make a mistake. I’d made one by working for Janna and giving one of them an opportunity.

  In less than a few seconds, tears burst from my eyes and a sob forced its way out of my throat as the full realization hit me like a blow to stomach...again. I dropped my scissors and ran to the bathroom with my stomach ready to erupt. I barely made it in time to throw up my toast and coffee breakfast while sobbing at the same time.

  I tried to pull myself together, washed my face off, and rinsed my mouth out. Tears still threatened as I opened the door to almost walk into Heeni, who hovered just outside it. Her concerned look made me feel worse. I was letting her down; I didn’t want to do that.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, her tone gentle.

  “I—I don’t know. It’s so hard...” My voice broke as the grief threatened again.

  Heeni pulled me into her arms, squeezing me against her and whispering. “I am so sorry, Gillian. I know the loss is overwhelming.”

  “She... she died in my arms, Heenie. I couldn’t do anything except watch her die...” Tears spilling down my face again, I gave into the sorrow.

  She rocked me like she would her child and tried to soothe me as I cried. Comforting wouldn’t ease this pain; only vengeance would satisfy my anger over the loss. As I gained control again, she released me to wipe the te
ars away.

  “Go on home,” she said. “You take the rest of the week off to grieve. You need the time.”

  Numbly, I nodded and whispered, “I’m sorry, Heenie. I didn’t want to let you down.”

  “I’ll be all right. I’ll call in Zarabeth to help out. She’s always looking for more hours.” She patted my shoulder and pointed me back to my station to get my things as she called the part-time shampoo girl in.

  KC crouched down on the grooming table and looked fearfully at me as if it was his fault. I should have, at least, finished the cut, but Heenie was already picking up my scissors and assessing the work left to be done on the dog. With a wave of her hand, she shooed me out the door.

  Once home, I brewed a cup of tea and sat down to gather my thoughts. While I appreciated that Heenie had given me time off, it also meant that I wouldn’t be making any money. Unlike a regular job that paid sick time or bereavement, when you worked as an independent contractor, you had no benefits. So, I would be out three and a half days of work with no other source of income.

  From a purely practical side, I’d already written off the possibility of a paycheck from Sunday’s party gig since it ended in such a disaster. Worse, there wouldn’t be any more party jobs with Janna gone. Even if someone else did hire me, who else would I be putting in danger if a yiaiwa came after me again?

  What about Heenie? The thought hit me abruptly. If I continued to work there, I’d need to place safety wards every day at the shop to prevent an attack there. Eventually, Heeni would learn I was doing it and have a fit.

  Depressed, I pulled out my checkbook and recalculated the figures, hoping I’d made a mistake somewhere and I had more money than I showed. Nope. If anything, I’d failed to take out the service charge and had even less. What was I going to do?

  As my phone rang, I pulled it out of my pocket, staring at it through bleary eyes. I recognized Mrs. Lewis’s phone number. I’d called it often enough when I was a teenager. Biting my lip, I answered, “Hello, Mrs. Lewis. I’ve been meaning to call you...” My voice trailed off as I tried to think what to say. I’d been putting it off for this very reason. Her daughter was gone, and I had no words to express the grief we all felt.

  “Gillian, I—” She hesitated, her voice catching as soon as she started to speak. “I know this is hard for you... as much as it is for us. I wanted to talk to you... sooner, but I just couldn’t.”

  “I am so, so sorry,” I managed to say. My voice felt raspy as my emotions were rising again. “I wish I could have done something.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, dear. It was that awful man. I don’t know how... or why... anyone would do... something so... horrible.” Her voice sounded strained as if she was fighting for every word. Then a pause and a sob sounded through our connection as she broke down.

  What do you say in this circumstance? I fought my own tears now. All I could do was commiserate with her. “It’s awful. I still can’t believe it happened. I want to wake up and find it’s all a bad dream,” I said between teary gasps.

  After a couple of minutes of both of us crying into the phone, Janna’s mom pulled herself together a little. I heard her blow her nose and take a couple of deep breaths before she started to speak again. “We’ve scheduled the service for Friday morning at the Sacred Heart Chapel. Ten-thirty... Will you sing for it, Gillian? It would mean so much to all of us if you would do a song in her memory.”

  I barely hesitated although I knew a risk was inherent in doing this. But even more than Mrs. Lewis asking, I knew I had to do it. I had to talk to Janna again and to know her soul was safe. I needed to make sure she went through the gate.

  “Of course, I will,” I answered and added, “I would also like to speak and share some of our memories.”

  “Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Lewis wept. “Oh, there will be a visitation on Thursday night. I do hope I will see you there.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I will be there.” I hung up feeling an even deeper sense of loss.

  Sitting on the sofa with my legs pulled up, I dropped my head to my knees and bawled some more. I cried for all the misery I felt, for my fears of what was to come, for the loss of Janna and, possibly even, Gavin. I worried about my friends and if they were all in danger now. More than that, I fretted that Orielle and I wouldn’t be able to stop the yiaiwa, so I sobbed over that, too. My depression took me to new depths. So much so that I barely even noticed Nygard pushing his head against my shoulder in an attempt to pull me out of my wallowing.

  Such was my state when Ferris walked through the door an hour or so later. A lump of distraught humanity folded into a little ball on the sofa, surrounded by a pile of used tissues, eyes swollen and red-lined from crying.

  “Gillian? Oh, for cripes sake,” he muttered as soon as he got a good look at me. He pulled me into his arms and rubbed my back. “What’s happened? Come on, pull yourself together, babe.”

  I sniffled a couple of times and mumbled, “I’m overwhelmed and heartbroken. Isn’t that excuse enough?”

  “Aw, you’re stronger than this,” he said as he kissed my cheek and cuddled me closer. “Sure, it’s tough, and we’re all upset, but we’ll get through it together, babe. You know that. So what set you over the edge?”

  I dropped my head on his shoulder and started telling him everything from the guilt about not backing up Staunton’s story, to the sleepless night, to Heenie sending me home ‘cause I broke down at the shop. In turn, that led to my anxiety over the lack of money coming in and being able to afford the rent on my little house. I paused to catch my breath and pulled away from him, scrubbing my hands across my eyes.

  “I’m going to go wash my face,” I told him as I felt it would make me feel better to wash the dried tears off.

  “Good idea. Want some coffee?”

  “Uhmm, no. I think I’d like something stronger.” I pushed to my feet and cast a grateful look at him. He really was the best. “There’s some wine in the ‘fridge. Pour us some, okay?”

  “You got it.” His eyes followed me as I headed for the bathroom off my music room. I glimpsed him heading for the kitchen as I went through the door.

  Cold water made my eyes ache less although it did nothing to ease the pain in my heart. Maybe the wine would help with that. My face looked puffy, dark circles under them accenting the red rims. I patted my face dry, combed my fingers through my hair, and returned to the living room.

  A large glass of white wine sat on the coffee table waiting for me. Ferris sat on the sofa, glass held comfortably in his right hand. I slid next to him and reached for mine, taking a large sip. The chilled liquid stung a little as it went down my dry throat, but it tasted good. I figured that after another four or five refills, I might be able to sleep.

  “Better?” Ferris asked.

  I nodded and gazed at him over the rim of my glass. “Much. Thanks.”

  “You know, I kinda mentioned it before, and maybe it’s time, Gillian. Why don’t you let this place go and move in with me? The house is big enough that you can have your own room and a music room, plus we have the studio in the garage. What do you think?”

  I won’t pretend the suggestion came out of the blue because he had mentioned it, but I hadn’t given it any more thought since then. Now, it caught me by surprise, a host of reservations seething within me at the suggestion. I liked my little house. I loved having my own place, even if it was a rental. But if I didn’t have more money coming in, I stood to lose it soon.

  While Ferris’s house was huge, and he did have a lot of space, living with him brought more concerns. What if our relationship didn’t work out? I’d be right back where I was. Underlying all was the fear of what the yiaiwa might do to my friends and if living with him would escalate that danger. I couldn’t risk losing him. Not after losing Janna.

  Aloud, I said, “Oh, I don’t know about that, Ferris. I like this place, and I don’t want to leave it. I’m going to talk to Cate about finding more work for me. Or maybe I’ll take a seco
nd job.”

  “With what spare time?” he asked a bit snarkily.

  “Oh, come on. I have lots of time now.” I tried to soothe his hurt feelings over. “I’ll think about it, all right?”

  He relaxed a little, but his shoulders slumped in disappointment. His mouth turned down into a frown. I think he felt he’d taken a risk in putting the suggestion out, and I’d shot him down. I reached for his hand and squeezed it.

  “I told you, I’ll think about. And I will. It’s a big step if I move in with you.”

  He nodded and perked up a little then. “That’s all I ask.”

  I leaned back and swallowed a little more wine. My body began to relax like the knots were gradually unwinding from my muscles and stomach. Yep, a few more glasses and I should be pretty ready for a dreamless sleep.

  Then I recalled the phone call and said, “Oh, Janna’s mom called earlier. She said the viewing at the mortuary will be on Thursday night. She asked me to sing at the funeral on Friday. I told her I wanted—”

  “You’re not going to do it, are you?” Ferris interrupted, his eyebrows lowering as his mouth pulled tight with concern.

  “Yes, I’m planning to do it. I have to.”

  “Gillian, it’s not safe. Not after what happened—”

  “Listen to me. Janna is my best friend, more like my sister. I need to do this. I don’t even know if she made it to the transitional cemetery. She might have gone straight through the gate. But I need to know that she isn’t trapped there.”

  He sucked in a breath. “You’re risking your own life doing it. Even with Nygard helping you, the most you’ve done is deflect the danger and barely drive a yiaiwa away. You know they can harm you.”

  “I don’t know that, Ferris. Before I’ve been pretty scared and riled up with trying to defend the souls I’ve been helping, but this time...” I set my mouth firmly, my resolve stronger than ever. “This time, I am angry and burning with fury. They’ve taken someone I love. I want revenge. So just let any of them get in my way, and I will show them what Hell really is.”