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The Quickening

Page 8

by Yvonne Heidt


  “I’m not done,” Sunny said. “They’ve also reported cold spots, strange mists, and dark shadow figures, both in the back room and downstairs.”

  “Of course,” Tiffany said. “It’s always the fricking cellar.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re still uneasy about them. You’ve been doing this for years,” Jordan said.

  “I don’t either, really. I know it’s always been a long-standing joke, but I’ve never been able to be completely comfortable in them. I tolerate it when it’s my turn, but for some reason, my aversion is getting stronger, not better.”

  “It’s getting worse?” Shade asked.

  “Yes, but please don’t tease me about it. I’m all about facing my fears and all, but not if I feel so stressed about it all the time. Every instinct in me says to avoid the damn basement.”

  Shade’s eyes narrowed. “Go with your gut. I’ll take it this time, but remind me later we need to talk more about this, okay?”

  Tiffany nodded, happy to drop the subject. God, she hated feeling weak. Worse, she hated them knowing she was weak.

  Sunny pulled her to the side. “Let it go. We don’t think that, and deep down you know it.”

  Tiffany sighed. “I know. Old tapes, but they still run now and then. For some reason, they’re playing really loud too.”

  “When’s the last time you had a healing session with my mother?”

  “It’s been a while.”

  “When she gets back,” Sunny said, “Make sure of it, promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  “I’m keeping you to it,” Sunny said. “Let’s circle up.”

  Tiffany joined hands with Sunny and Shade. They asked for protection as they stood in the center of the living room, standing for past, present, and future, with Jordan rounding out the circle, representing justice. Tiffany was proud of her. She’d been one of their biggest skeptics before she and Sunny became serious. Over the last year or so, she’d become a valuable part of the team. She didn’t have the psychic gifts the team did, but she was open to learning. Love, Tiffany thought, is a miracle worker.

  When they were finished, Tiffany felt better. Her skin buzzed pleasantly with the energy they raised. There was no other rush like it, that punch of power she felt afterward, when they were all connected and protected. She was ready to kick ass.

  “Can we use the voice box?” Jordan asked.

  Shade sneered. “Still need your training wheels, Jordan?”

  “Hey, I can’t help that I can’t hear voices in my head, Lacey.”

  “Don’t start,” Tiffany said after Shade opened her mouth to retort. “Geez, can’t we all get along?”

  “I was only joking,” Shade said. “Don’t get your panties all in a twist.”

  “Even if I wore them,” Jordan said, “it would take more than a smart ass comment from you to knot them up.”

  Although Tiffany knew that the bantering usually started out as teasing, it occasionally had a tendency to get out of hand. It also upset Sunny, and when she was anxious, everyone felt it. The power of an empath worked both ways.

  “Don’t say ass around me. It’s not safe.” It was better to defuse them quickly before it escalated, even if it was at her own expense. It had the desired effect she wanted. Shade laughed.

  Jordan looked puzzled. “What?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Sunny said, then winked at Tiffany. “Come on, Jordan. We’ll watch the monitors from the van. We can take the second shift.”

  Tiffany saw a brief moment of pain cross Shade’s face before she brought her expression back to neutral. Tiffany reached out tentatively and touched her back. She concentrated on sending a soft, healing light toward Shade’s heart.

  Shade closed her eyes for a second. “Thank you,” she said before she deliberately took a step away.

  “Why won’t you let me help you more?” Tiffany was aware of the dark stains inside Shade’s aura, and it made her sad. It had been a long while since Shade let her get that close to her without shutting herself off first.

  “It’s mine to deal with. Leave it alone.”

  “Why do you keep punishing yourself? It’s not necessary when I can assist the process.”

  Shade pointed to the camera lens in the corner of the room. “Let’s just get to work.” She closed the discussion down for good when she put on her wireless headphones, which operated on a special frequency that allowed her to hear EVPs in real time. “Lights out.”

  “All right.” Tiffany had forgotten that Sunny and Jordan would be able to hear and see them from base. She would have to let it go for now, but the knot of worry she’d felt for Shade over the last several months tightened further. They were due for a heart-to-heart. It had been months. Life just got so damn busy all the time. Shade was really good at deflecting with her “we’ll talk later” excuses, but it was nearly impossible to pin her down when “later” came.

  Tiffany flipped the switch, grabbed her handheld recorder, and sat on the couch. She would ask the questions while Shade listened.

  She considered the energy for a moment before beginning. “Wilson investigation. Tiffany and Shade. Living room. First impression, I sense our clients use this room a lot.”

  She waited a moment and then began asking questions, leaving a fifteen-second pause between each of them for the recorder’s sake. “Who are you? Can you come and talk with us? We’re not here to disrespect or harm you in any way.”

  Tiffany didn’t sense anything off. The silence wasn’t heavy or filled with any tension; it was just quiet. “Hello? Are you here?”

  “Did you hear a voice?” Shade asked Tiffany. “Here, hold on.” She rewound the recorder and handed her the headphones.

  Tiffany listened carefully. After she heard herself ask the questions, she could hear a heavy sigh. “Barely. But it’s there.”

  Shade nodded before she took the headphones back. She replaced them around her neck.

  “Marking heavy sigh heard, continuing EVP, and noting slight temperature change.” She glanced down at the thermal gun she had pointed toward the hall. “It went from seventy-eight down to seventy-two.”

  “Shadow in the left corner of the room.” Shade snapped a few pictures.

  Tiffany had to wait for her eyes to adjust after the flash. By the time they did, the anomaly was gone. “I still don’t feel much.”

  “I feel something. It’s just under the surface, waiting, barely throbbing, kind of like a toothache in a small cavity. You don’t always notice it until something gets inside it.”

  “Oh, that’s a good one,” Tiffany said. “Are you going to provoke?”

  Shade nodded. “Quit hiding and come out where I can see you.”

  A loud thump sounded from the floor above. “What’s up there?” Tiffany asked.

  “The attic, I think.”

  The two-way radio on her hip crackled as Sunny’s voice came through it. “Yes, it’s coming from the attic. I heard it on the monitor.”

  Crap. They were almost as bad as basements. She nudged Shade. “I’ll follow you.”

  Tiffany walked behind Shade until they were in front of the bathroom’s threshold. She was aware of energy emanating from the open door. She stopped and tugged on Shade’s belt loop. “Hang on a minute,” she said. She took a deep breath and placed her hand lightly on the wood frame. “Someone died in here.”

  Shade peeked around the small room. “I agree. It feels sad and heavy. Do your stuff.” She turned the viewfinder on the camera she was holding toward Tiffany. “You’re on. Action.”

  “Wilson house, bathroom,” Tiffany said. She pressed her hand firmly on the wall to receive and read the energy in the room. “There’s a woman looking in the mirror. She’s crying, sobbing. She’s calling herself stupid, stupid, stupid.”

  “Young or old?” Shade asked.

  “I’m going to say thirties, maybe? Dark, messy hair. She’s wearing a long blue nightgown. She looks like she’s been crying. Her eyes are
swollen. Okay, she’s opening the medicine cabinet now. She’s pulled something out.”

  Tiffany turned toward the tub. “She’s getting in the bath with her nightie on. Oh no, no.”

  “I smell blood,” Shade said. “Mark the time, eleven oh two p.m.”

  Tiffany struggled to keep her gag reflex under control. “She’s cut her wrists with a razor. The water is turning red really fast.” She broke the residual connection by putting her hands in her back pockets. It didn’t keep her from feeling the energy, but it did stop the movie in her head. “A woman committed suicide in this room, but I can’t tell how long ago. I will say the slate tiles appear to be exactly the same.”

  “The stone could be holding it. Are they natural?”

  “Yes,” Tiffany said. “I think so, which is why the energy is still so strong in here.”

  “Maybe removing them will do the trick.”

  “Hopefully,” Tiffany said. She was reluctant to touch the wall again to link up with the scene in the room. “Shade, do you see her at all?”

  “No, I smell blood and feel the leftover desolation.”

  “Are we done here then?”

  Before Shade could answer, a loud knock sounded on the other side of the wall.

  “Never mind,” Tiffany said. “Apparently not.”

  Shade went into the hall and toward the sound. Tiffany followed her to the back bedroom. She winced when she heard another knock, this one much louder than the first. “Can you see anything?”

  “Just a trace,” Shade said.

  There was movement in the corner of the room. “Look!” Tiffany said. “The rocker is moving.” She stared harder, to make sure it wasn’t a trick of the light coming in around the curtain from the streetlight outside.

  “I can see it through the night vision,” Shade said. “Whoa. It just came right at me.”

  Tiffany felt the energy whoosh between them, back into the hallway. She gasped at the coldness of it. “I hate it when they do that,” she said.

  Shade pointed to the ceiling. “Ssh, listen.”

  After five heartbeats, Tiffany heard the faint footsteps above. Before she could acknowledge them, Sunny came up behind her and scared her. Tiffany placed a hand over her heart. “Jesus. Warn a girl, would you?”

  Shade snickered. “Here, hold my stuff. I have to pull the staircase down.”

  “I came to help with the active spirit.” Sunny turned on her handheld recorder. “Attic, Wilson investigation.”

  There was another loud thump overhead, followed by the sound of someone running across the floorboards.

  “It doesn’t want us up there.” Shade unlocked the hasps on the portable stairs.

  “Oh, goody,” Tiffany said.

  “Let’s go up,” Shade said. “Brawn before beauty. I’ll go first.”

  *

  Kat was still seething hours after she returned home from Bremerton. How dare Parker give her a case file that had already been solved? She felt used and insulted. Not to mention embarrassed.

  She’d barely gotten into the details over lunch with Jordan when she’d told her that she was familiar with the case file. Kat passed her the folder she’d made for the reading and let her read it while her temper grew.

  Jordan was ticked off as well but brought a cooler head to the table. As a former police officer, she’d explained his need to have some kind of validation for using the resources. In this case, SOS. Even though this had been a test, Tiffany didn’t have any prior knowledge of it, and she’d gotten all the details correct, right down to the icing in Joy’s hair. She just hadn’t seen the killer go to jail.

  Kat didn’t feel as generous. Though she understood the need for factual validation, she felt awful that Tiffany had walked through that crime scene for her, and all for nothing. She left a message for Detective Parker to call her. When he hadn’t returned it as fast as she would have liked, she debated going to his office, but office hours were over. Instead, Kat decided a cooling off period would probably be better than stalking into a police station with her temper as it stood.

  After she’d been home and calmed down considerably, she sent an e-mail to him, outlining the Fisher case, and sent a copy of the recorded file. She managed to keep her tone professional throughout her letter, but just barely.

  She knew her anger had much more to do with how the reading affected Tiffany, rather than the perceived insult from Parker.

  How did she really feel about Tiffany? If she was honest with herself, and she always tried to be, she didn’t know her as much as she would have liked. Yes, she may have appeared to be a twin of Tanna’s, but she wasn’t the same person. She actually knew very little about Tiffany, even if she felt like she knew everything. It was surreal enough to keep her unbalanced.

  Her cell phone rang, and she winced when she heard the Amy Winehouse tune that announced the caller, Valerie, Kat’s ex-girlfriend. Well, if you could even call her that. Last year, they were exclusive for a few months until Valerie’s budding acting career took her to Los Angeles.

  They were so busy with their respective careers, their relationship status fell into a casual one. Valerie’s work occasionally brought her to film in Canada, and she usually took the opportunity to call Kat when she was in town to visit her family. Kat remained very fond of her, and more often than not, cleared her schedule to make time and see her.

  “Hi,” Kat said.

  “Hello, sweetheart. A slot just opened on my dance card. Interested?”

  “I’m sorry, not in a dancing mood.”

  “Oh, you want me to come over there for a night in?”

  Kat heard the suggestion in her silky voice, but her emotions had taken a ride on a roller coaster the last few days. Not only was she taking time off work, apparently, normality had taken a vacation as well. She didn’t feel like she would be very good company. “Can we meet somewhere for a drink and talk?”

  “Sure, no problem. Where?”

  “How about the Alibi Room?”

  “On Pike?” Valerie asked.

  “An hour good for you?”

  “Sounds good. See you soon.”

  Kat hung up and went to her room to change. On her way to the closet, she passed the mural. She had a tiny second of hesitation. She felt guilty, which was kind of ridiculous when she thought of it. Even if she believed Tanna was reincarnated in Tiffany, the fact remained she’d run from Kat twice now. They were different people, in a different time, and maybe she needed to accept that.

  She needed a distraction, and time with Valerie was better than drinking alone on her balcony while she drove herself crazy with currently unanswerable questions.

  *

  Kat turned the last corner and saw Valerie waiting outside the bar for her.

  Valerie smiled while she waited for Kat to reach her. “Hi,” she said softly, then kissed her cheek.

  “Thanks for meeting me.” Kat led her to a small table near the back of the bar. The place was well on its way to being packed, and the waitresses looked swamped. It would be easier to muscle her way to the bar herself. She was already uncomfortable; she didn’t want to start the conversation just to be interrupted.

  Valerie sat and tossed her hair back. “I’ll have a tequila sunrise tonight.”

  Kat was surprised. “No white wine?”

  “After seeing that look on your face, I have the feeling that I’ll need something a little stronger.”

  So, Kat thought, she knows. She nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

  When she returned, Valerie took the drink and waited until Kat sat across from her. The music was loud, but the table they were at was small enough so she could be heard. “It’s okay, really. We had a good run, didn’t we?”

  “I haven’t said anything.”

  “Kat, darling. I know you. When you answered the phone this evening, your voice was different. Usually, it drips with sexy come-on-over vibes. I knew something was up. Then I saw you, and I can read the end in your eyes, babe.”
>
  Kat didn’t know what to say. She knew that Valerie would be gracious, she was that kind of person, but she hadn’t expected her to be so perceptive up front. “I’m so sorry.”

  “So am I,” Valerie said. “Who is she?”

  Kat shook her head. “Let’s not go there, please. I want you to know how much I enjoyed our time together. You are so beautiful, both inside and out. I’ll always smile when I remember you.”

  “Those are pretty words. I’ll take them, thank you. Can I still tell you I wish it were me?” Valerie looked wistfully at her. “At one time, I thought it was me in that painting.”

  Kat had always known that Val wasn’t the one, but she’d tried to convince herself of it for a while. Yes, she was a beautiful redhead, had a sweet disposition, and there was an incredible physical attraction. But the soul connection, the recognition of spirit, wasn’t there. “You’re an amazing woman, and I wish only the best for you. One day, you’ll find someone.”

  Valerie laughed. “Oh, honey, they’ll find me. Don’t worry. I’m not looking to settle down anytime soon. I’m having too much fun.” She stood. “I’m going to go now.”

  “I’ll walk you out.” Kat followed her. When she was near the door, she felt a chill run down her back. She turned to search the crowd.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t know. Someone just walked over my grave.”

  “You know I don’t believe in that stuff.” Valerie waved her hand to dismiss the comment. “Kiss me good-bye and watch me walk away, like in the movies.”

  Kat held her close for moment and kissed her. “I’ll be seeing you on the big screen one day,” she said.

  Valerie waved. “Of course you will, and then you can pine away for me because you let me go.” She turned away and walked down the street, making a perfect exit.

  “Good-bye,” Kat said softly. She watched until she turned the corner before she headed for home.

  She had a feeling something was off. She kept hearing footsteps behind her, but when she turned to look, she couldn’t see anyone. There was a couple walking on the other side of the street and a few stragglers way back. Not close enough to put her guard up. Regardless, Kat quickened her stride and reasoned it away. It was a little foggy out, and she’d been under stress the last couple of days. It was amazing what your imagination could do under the right circumstances.

 

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