Grave Doubts (A Paranormal Mystery Novel)

by Lynn Bohart

  Marion’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “There’s more, isn’t there. I can tell from your body language. What happened, Lee?”

  Lee felt herself squirm as she prepared to tell at least part of the truth.

  “The guy who broke in… attacked me.”

  “Oh, my God!” Marion’s hand flew to her mouth, and then she was silent.

  “He caught me in the hallway and pushed me up against the wall. I’m sure he was going to do something,” she said, remembering the warmth of his hand as it touched her skin, “but Amy’s dog scared him off.” Lee’s entire body felt scorched, as if a flame had seared her skin. This was too painful. She needed to change the subject. “But I need to focus on Diane. A nurse at the hospital just told me it would have taken ten to fifteen minutes for Diane to die after she was injected with insulin.” Lee leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, looking out to the river, tears forming in her eyes. “Initially, I wondered if Diane had tried to defend herself and finally just ran out of steam and died. But a large vase she kept on her coffee table is missing. I’m pretty sure it was used to knock her out first.” Lee sighed, wiping the moisture away from her eyes. “Diane and I had an argument that night. I said some awful things. Things I can’t take back now.”

  Lee dropped her head, the pain of the memory swelling in her chest. Marion reached over and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Are you sure it’s not guilt that’s making you think someone killed Diane?”

  In between sniffles, Lee said, “No. In my heart, I know she didn’t kill herself. But if I’m right, that means someone else did. I need to know, Marion.”

  She used the palm of her hand to wipe her face just as a little bird landed in between them on the back of the bench. Lee sat up and looked at it in expectation. Marion stopped as well. A long moment passed in which the bird hopped back a forth, but did little else.

  “It’s just a bird,” Marion chided. “It probably just wants a snack.”

  Marion pinched off a piece of bread and held it out for their guest. The bird ignored the treat and hopped away.

  “Come here, little guy,” Marian coaxed it.

  A breeze rose up and caught Marian’s empty sandwich bag and tossed it into the air. It startled the small bird, and it flew off the back of the bench and landed on the lawn behind them.

  “Oh, I scared it away,” she lamented. Marian turned to follow the little bird and froze.

  “Um…Lee…” she stammered.

  Lee slowly swiveled her head to look behind them. A familiar cold chill ran the length of her spine. An entire flock of birds had assembled quietly behind them.

  “My God,” Marion whispered.

  They both stood up and turned around to face several hundred birds. Most of them were on the ground, but many others had filled the branches of nearby trees.

  “I don’t think they’re here for food,” Lee said, as she began to move around the end of the bench in their direction.

  “Lee, don’t do anything!” Marion exclaimed, her voice straining.

  Lee ignored her and moved carefully around the bench. Taking small steps, she inched forward until she was only a few feet from the nearest bird. These were wild birds that would normally fly away. So, why weren’t they? A moment later, she had her answer.

  The trailing “keeer” of a hawk made both women look up. High above them, a hawk circled gracefully down through the sky until it landed on a lower branch of the closest pine tree. Instantly, the flock of birds dispersed in a whirl of flapping wings. In a matter of seconds, they were all gone. Marion’s mouth dropped open in shock.

  “Lee, what’s happening?”

  Lee didn’t answer. She was focused now on the hawk. Taking the onyx bird into her left hand, she turned her right hand over, offering up her arm to the hawk.

  “C’mon,” she whispered to it. “C’mon. I dare you.”

  Adrenalin pounded through her body, but she waited as still as stone until the powerful wings of the hawk unfolded. It lifted off the branch and then descended, its wings spread at full span. The big bird lowered itself onto Lee’s arm in a whoosh of forced air. Lee took a step back in order to balance herself under the bird’s weight. She could feel the talons digging through her blouse into her skin. The bird’s head shifted back and forth, its eyes watching her, its feathers glistening in the afternoon sun.

  Lee couldn’t breathe. Her eyes were fixed on the hawk. Slowly, she raised her left hand and held out the onyx figurine. The large predator looked at the figurine, its head jerking in short, sharp movements. Then it pushed its beak forward until it touched the onyx bird, just as the small bird had done at Hendrick’s Park. The hawk turned back to Lee, watched her for another second or two, and then pushed down on Lee’s arm, lifting off like a champion diver leaving a springboard. It pulled itself higher and higher into the air until it caught an air current that took it up the river and out of sight.

  Lee watched it go, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. When she could no longer see the bird, she turned to find Marion standing in front of the bench, her face as white as the hair that topped her head. They stared at each other for a minute before Marion murmured, “That was amazing.”

  The older woman seemed to make a decision as she stuffed her remaining sandwich into the lunch bag and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. “Okay,” she said with a deep breath. “I’m in. I’ll be at your house tonight. We’ll map out what you’ve got and see what fits and what doesn’t.”

  Lee smiled in relief, as she rubbed the spot on her arm where the bird’s talons had left marks. “You mean it? You believe me?”

  Marion gave a hesitant smile, showing a perfect set of white teeth. “I don’t know what I believe. But I just saw an inexplicable thing. Perhaps that hawk was an escapee from the local zoo and just happened to be trained to land on people’s arms, but I doubt it. Something is going on here, and I want to help. I have to make a trip to Cottage Grove after work, but I’ll be back by eight. I’ll bring some wine. You provide the snacks.”

  Lee felt as if someone had just lifted fifty pounds off her shoulders. She wiped her eyes and picked up her lunch bag. She snatched a large peanut butter cookie from the bag before sending it into the trashcan.

  “I’ll make some popcorn with cheddar cheese that will make your mouth water.”

  They laughed as they walked back toward the bridge, meandering through the rose garden that bordered the path. Most of the roses were gone, but little nameplates like Camelot and Big Ben indicated the noble plants whose color had waned. They reached the other side of the bridge and started through the parking lot.

  “Okay,” Marion said. “Save it for tonight. I want it all. Who knows, with two brilliant minds and a little wine…”

  “And a very small carved bird…” Lee interjected.

  Marion laughed. “Right, well, with all of that, maybe we can shed some light on this mystery of mysteries.”

  “By the way, what do you know about Pauline Bates?” Lee asked.

  “Why do you want to know about Pauline Bates?” Marion’s eyebrows arched in question.

  “She was at Diane’s funeral.”

  “Why would she go to Diane’s funeral?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know. She was there though, in all her eerie splendor.”

  “Let me think on that one,” Marion said. “I can make a few phone calls. See you tonight. And don’t forget,” she warned. “Go see that Native American woman. You need to find out what you’re dealing with here.”

  With a short wave, Marion climbed into her vintage BMW and pulled out of the parking lot. Lee watched her depart feeling better than she had in days. A quick check of her watch let her know that she had time to follow up on Marion’s suggestion to find out more about the bird. She backed out of the parking space and started out of the lot, just ahead of a brown pickup truck.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Lee negotiated her way through the one-way streets of do
wntown Eugene until she found a parking spot a few doors down from the store called, Inspirations. She put a quarter in the meter and hurried up the sidewalk. The store’s front window displayed a variety of books about channeling spirits, meditation, and UFOs. Inside, Lee was met with a discordant blend of colors, sounds, and smells. One whole corner was filled with handmade birdhouses and desktop fountains. Beaded jewelry and crystal figurines filled the glass display case, while scented candles and bags of potpourri spilled from the drawers of a large antique sideboard. Layered over all of this was a kind of woodland fairy music. The cynic in Lee wanted to laugh, but since she was about to ask questions about a sculpted bird’s ability to move around on its own, she wondered if there wasn’t a book or two here she ought to read.

  A young woman dressed in a long tie-dyed skirt and blouse stood off to one side talking with a young man who looked like he hadn’t washed his hair in a decade. His clothes didn’t look much better. Lee browsed among some hand-dyed silk scarves for a moment, thinking she might actually buy one, when the boy left and the young woman approached.

  “May I help you?” she asked with a light voice.

  “Yes,” Lee replied, still fingering a bright blue scarf. “I was told a Native American woman worked here. I don’t know her name, but I was hoping I could speak with her.”

  The girl’s brown eyes lit with recognition. “Oh, you mean Lilly. She’s in the back. I’ll get her for you.”

  The girl retreated in a flurry of bright colors to disappear behind a long green curtain at the back of the store. Lee wondered how truly native this woman could be if her name was Lilly. She remained skeptical until a short, box-figured woman appeared, her black hair hanging like two braided ropes across her ample breasts. She appeared to be middle-aged and wore a turquoise gauze dress tied at the waist with a multi-colored woven belt. A heavy silver conch necklace hung around her neck. She was clearly Native American, and Lee felt ashamed at her bias. The woman approached with a warm smile.

  “I am Lilly,” she said in a husky voice. “What can I do for you?”

  “I wondered if you could answer some questions about the Native American culture,” Lee said.

  “There is not a single culture. There are many tribes,” she said. “But I will try to help.”

  Lee hesitated before bringing out the bird. Finally, she withdrew if from her purse and held it in the palm of her hand.

  “A friend of mine purchased this in a store when we were up in Yakima a year ago, near the reservation. The man who sold it to her said it was her totem. She died recently.” Lee stopped, not knowing if she should say anymore.

  Lilly shifted her dark, impassive eyes to the bird. She had a kind face and her skin looked like tanned, oiled leather. But her eyes held a sense of wisdom that comforted Lee. While Lee studied her, Lilly studied the bird.

  “I’m sorry about your friend. American Indians feel a kinship with the earth and all of its animals,” she said, still looking at the bird. “The hawk is a very proud and brave bird.”

  “But I’m not sure I understand what a totem is,” Lee interjected.

  Lee felt silly holding the bird and so placed it on a glass countertop next to them. The woman glanced over at it, but didn’t touch it.

  “Animal totems are spiritual symbols, or spiritual tools,” she explained, glancing back at Lee. “We believe that all of nature is connected, and that animals carry the qualities of individual human beings. Each person is connected to a specific animal. That animal can serve as a channel to the greater universe. Totems, like this bird,” she said, nodding at the bird, “represent the animal’s connection to the person. They work with the subconscious mind; if the person can tap into the energy, the totem can convey information or qualities the person needs. We have a couple of very good books on the subject,” she said, turning to find the literature.

  “I don’t have time,” Lee blurted, stopping the woman. “I’m sorry. I’m in a bit of a hurry. I just need to know a couple of things.”

  “If you are doing some kind of research, there are many qualified resources at the university.”

  “No, it’s for something else. I just need to know how a person finds out what their totem is.”

  The woman minimized Lee’s bluntness with a slight shrug of her shoulder. “Young people go through a ritual to discover their totem, like coming of age. The totem might be a hawk, like this one. Or it might be a bear, a wolf, or even a deer. Characteristics of the animal are reflected in that person. For instance, the bear is self-reliant and adaptable. The deer is intuitive and compassionate. And the hawk,” she nodded at the bird again, “is a fearless hunter that goes after what it wants.”

  “I still don’t understand what their purpose is. The totem, I mean, other than to reflect someone’s characteristics?”

  The woman studied Lee, her eyes searching Lee’s face as if knowing she was struggling with a demon of some kind.

  “Many people believe their totem animal gives them protection and power. If they are brave, then they become braver. If they are strong, they become stronger. You say your friend has died. Perhaps you think her totem failed her?”

  “No, that’s not it,” Lee stuttered, thinking just the opposite. “Well, maybe,” she admitted. The bird hadn’t protected Diane, so what good was it? The woman watched her, then finally turned and reached for the bird.

  “Did your friend share the same characteristics as the hawk?”

  Lee couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes. I mean you might say that Diane had a hawk-like personality. She could be severe and biting and…”

  “Those are negative characteristics,” the woman interrupted. “What were the good characteristics they shared?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what the hawk’s good characteristics are.”

  Lilly studied the bird as she spoke. “The hawk has keen eyesight and perfect balance, but it lacks patience,” she said. “It is a proud bird and a predator. Single-minded in its purpose. As a predator, it knows how to survive.” She cupped the bird in between both hands as Marion had done. “You say your friend bought this in Yakima.”

  “Yes.”

  “Where were you when this man told your friend the bird was her totem?”

  Lee felt a chill begin to flutter beneath her shoulder blades. “Uh…I was standing right behind her.”

  “And you believe this man was wrong.”

  “I don’t know.”

  The woman paused, cradling the bird and leaning into it as if listening to something.

  “Well, you are right,” she finally said, opening her hand and handing the bird back to Lee. “This is not your friend’s totem. This is your totem. You are the hawk. And the hawk is you. And you need to listen to its call.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Lee returned to the hospital with a new sense of confidence. The fact the onyx bird might be her totem instead of Diane’s was a surprise, but not a shock. All along, Lee had felt a connection to the bird. She also believed Diane was working through the bird, pointing the way. Lee just didn’t know how to read the signs.

  But her goal now was to return Bud’s personnel file to Robin. The fact her intruder knew she had it spooked her. The last thing she needed right now was to lose her job. And after she did this, she was heading home for a nap. She needed a clear head before her meeting with Marion later that night.

  “Are you back again?” Marie asked when Lee entered the office again.

  Lee hesitated. If this continued, she’d have to start keeping a log of the half-truths and lies she was telling just to keep them straight.

  “I just need a phone number,” she lied again. Lee slipped into her office and pretended to look for the in-house phone list. Just as she found it, Jenny interrupted her search.

  “By the way, the photographer called,” Jenny began, pushing a lock of hair behind her ears. “He said to tell you everything is set for that Occupational Health photo shoot at Green Valley tonight. That’s the
good news. The bad news is that Sally went home sick. Do you want me to cancel it?”

  “What?” Lee looked up, distracted. “Um…no, don’t cancel it. It’s taken too long to set this up.” She sighed, her mind moving in slow motion. “I’ll go, I guess.”

  “Well, before you commit, the photographer wants someone to go out to the sawmill with him this afternoon in order to find the best place to set up for the picture.”

  “Shit.” Lee dropped her head and sighed. “I suppose I can do it. What time?”

  “Two o’clock.”

  She looked at her watch.

  “Okay. You can tell him I’ll be there. Where do I meet him?”

  “Go to the east gate. James Rupert is the photographer.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Jenny returned to her desk, and Lee put the phone list back. She rubbed her eyes, trying to relieve the burning sensation that kept her blinking every few seconds. Grabbing an interoffice envelope, she slipped the personnel file inside, addressed it to Robin, and marked the envelope confidential. As she dropped the envelope in her Out Box, another envelope lying in the In Box caught her eye. It was a blank, letter-size envelope with no return address. Lee’s name was written on the outside in a distinctive, curvy script she now recognized. She ripped open the envelope and pulled out a black and white newspaper ad for a Maytag refrigerator. Lee flipped it over, confused. The ad had been torn from a newspaper, and the backside had only two paragraphs from a story on the state’s budget cuts. She looked back at the ad for the refrigerator. It declared a huge sale on all appliances that coming weekend. The name of the store had been separated from the picture, as if whoever had sent it wanted Lee to focus on the refrigerator itself. There was nothing more inside the envelope.

  Lee stepped into the outer office where Marie was pulling letters off the printer. “Marie, do you know when this arrived?” She held up the envelope.

  Marie glanced up, squinting to see what Lee was holding. “Yesterday afternoon, I think.”