A Song of Forgiveness

by Lillian I Wolfe

  Leaving, I told Gavin, I would get in touch with Father Garrity again and set up a conference meeting with him. He could either come to my place and we could link through my computer or I could connect both his and the priest’s computer together for it. Now, I’d have to ask Ferris how to do that. I’d never tried a multi-person face chat.

  Gavin walked me out to my Jeep, then pulled me into a hug. “We need to get in another practice session with you, a few knives, and your cat.”

  “Uh uh, leave Nygard out of this,” I said as I pulled back and opened the door.

  He sighed. “I don’t think I can. He’s with you for a purpose and we need to train him. If you don’t, he might very well die defending you because he used his instincts and not his training. You can’t make him stay behind if he wants to come. A spirit can’t be contained.”

  “Isn’t that what we’re trying to do?” I asked. “We want to contain a demon.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, you’re right. But you’re not going to do that to your cat, are you?”

  “Probably not,” I muttered and slipped into the driver’s seat. “Talk to you later, Prof.”

  Once I got home, I fed Nygard and made some notes of my own about the visions. I felt there were missing pieces, but I wasn’t sure what. As Nygard rubbed up against me, his purring body vibrated against me and the little energy threads poured out again.

  Had he always been doing this and it was only in the past few months I’d noticed or was it a new manifestation with his age? Whatever, the cat was undeniably connected to me and I feared Gavin was right. He would follow me if he thought I was in danger, just as he had in the kitchen. Just as he had in the ethereal cemetery.

  I picked him up, rubbing his ears as I spoke to him. He cuddled against me, kneading his paws against my shoulder. “Do you want to train with me, Ny? Learn how to help Mom without risking your life too much? Anything you do in the transitional cemetery is likely to be dangerous, kit. For both of us.”

  His answering meow-purr combination might have been a yes. All I had to do was figure out how to train him to go into a spirit-level battle that I wasn’t prepared for either.

  TWENTY

  Just when I thought things were coming together a bit, I had another surprise visit from Moss and Hernandez. I spotted them walking up the driveway and heaved a sigh of annoyance.

  “What now?” I said as I opened the door to greet the two detectives on my porch. Moss stood with his hands stuffed in his pocket as Hernandez was about to knock.

  Moss hemmed and hawed, looking a bit like a schoolboy caught with a frog in his pocket during class. “Well, actually, we stopped by to give you an update on something. Nothing that’s going to require your help or anything. I just thought you might like to know.”

  “What?”

  It wasn’t like Egan Moss to beat around the bush and Hernandez rarely said anything.

  “You know the State Department has been working with the FBI and Interpol to deport Nick Sarkis from the Canary Islands, right?”

  “Yes,” I said, drawing it out as I suspected something not good was coming.

  “Well, he got away,” Moss spoke hastily, his eyes darting to the roof of my house to avoid my stunned expression.

  “How? I thought they had him. It’s been almost three months.”

  “I know. And they were working on it, but he somehow managed to slip out of Spanish custody and is now missing.”

  “Slip out? You mean he bribed someone.” Anger flowed through me. I promised his dead wife, his victim, that we would get her justice and we had him for two murders. Well, crap. Worse, now I was afraid she’d somehow know and haunt me again.

  “Most likely,” Moss agreed. He shrugged his shoulder in a helpless gesture. “Not much we can do from here. I thought you’d want to know though.”

  “We’re keeping an open bolo on him in case he tries to come back to Nevada. But you should know he might have connections here that can tie you to the evidence on Ms. Alden,” Hernandez said, volunteering a little information that I wasn’t sure Moss would have given me.

  “Great. One more worry. Thanks for letting me know.”

  “If, by any coincidence, you should get a tip or find out something about Sarkis, let us know. We don’t want you pulled into this by your involvement in the case.” Moss raised his eyebrows in an imploring look, making it evident that he wanted me to steer clear of doing anything that might entangle me in the case again.

  Willing to comply with that, I could only hope Zoe Sarkis didn’t get in touch with me, but I worried it could happen. As far as I knew, Zoe and her lover Saffi Alden had both safely crossed into the light bridge while I battled with the yiaiwas. Maybe she would be satisfied that I’d at least found Saffi’s body and gotten them both through the gate, but she had been an angry spirit with good cause. If Nick got away with her murder and the money, she would be furious.

  “You know I will,” I said and waved as they left the house.

  I plopped down on the sofa and thought back to that whole case and what I’d done to locate both Saffi and Nick. I’d broken into his house, but it hadn’t been a clean B&E. Someone else had entered the house while I was hiding in an under-the-eaves room. That person knew the space was there and had checked to see that the documents Nick had hidden were still there. He didn’t spot me and didn’t explore in the room, so I’d gotten away with it.

  But there had been someone else as I left the house that might have been a security patrol or a friend of Nick’s. That person didn’t actually see me, but the commotion of my exit from the house while being chased by a doxie dog down the road didn’t make for a clean getaway. Had one of those connected me with the break-in and subsequent removal of the documents by the Reno Police?

  Either of those might point back to me.

  “Well, this is a fine mess,” I told Nygard as he butted his head against my arm, then looked up at me with expectation in his big blue eyes. “Fine, you want a treat, don’t you?”

  At the t-word, he jumped down and ran toward the jar in the kitchen where I kept an assortment of cat goodies. If only my life was so simple.

  I turned around to go back into the living room and ran smack into a ghost. Not Zoe.

  Roger.

  I gasped in shock and nearly had a heart attack. How the hell did his spirit do that? He’d never been to my house. Or had he? Behind me, Nygard hissed and a low growl emanated from his throat.

  Stepping back from the apparition, I choked out, “Why are you here?”

  He looked awful, frozen snow on him making his hair, brow, lashes, and lips appear lined in ice. His skin was so pale that there was a bluish hue to it. Is this how he looked when they’d found him in the snow bank?

  “Desperate,” he managed to say, stuttering the word out, although I’d not seen his mouth move.

  “Roger, I can’t help you,” I said. “I’m sorry. You’re beyond my help.”

  “I– I didn’t kill myself,” he said in slow, deliberate words. “Help me.”

  “How? I don’t know what I can do.” I thought furiously about the investigation. Was it conclusive?

  “Help me,” he repeated, then disappeared as quickly as he’d arrived.

  I felt completely at a loss as I gaped at the place where I’d seen him. It was one thing for a ghost to appear at the interim graveyard or in a dream, but to have one standing in my dining area was new to me and almost as frightening as having a yiaiwa in the house. For one thing, I thought I might be losing my mind and this was my guilty conscience playing games with me because I didn’t sing at his funeral.

  Weak-kneed, I dropped down into the nearest chair and took several deep breaths. Nygard slinked out from the kitchen, crouched low with his nose and whiskers twitching all the way as if he was using them as a radar to try to pick up on the strange apparition in the house.

  “Now what, Ny? Are we both losing our minds?”

  When I’d gathered my wits again, I ca
lled Janna and told her what had happened. My strange experiences had exceeded hers long ago when I started seeing ghosts so now she was at a loss when I told her about this.

  “Well, he had a connection to you, Gilly, so it’s not too unusual that he might show up. I mean, people see ghosts after a friend or a loved one dies and they show up to say goodbye.” She sounded earnest, but a little frazzled at the same time.

  “I’ve heard that,” I agreed. “But he wasn’t a loved one and this is creepy. He looked frozen.”

  “Well, he’s asking for help. If what you said about your graveyard dream is true, he’s on the wrong side of the garden and in desperate trouble. Wait, if he actually committed suicide, isn’t that considered a major sin?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a mental issue, not a sin.” One more thing I disagreed about with religion. Still, would that be a reason to condemn him to the dark path of the yiaiwas?

  “I’m just saying, it might be. You asked for my opinion and that’s it.” She spoke hurriedly, annoyance in her tone.

  “Are you working today?” I asked.

  “Trying to, yes.”

  “Oops, sorry. I thought you had the day off.” I couldn’t keep any better track of her schedule now than I could when she worked the desk.

  “Event at the hotel. Hey, I got an idea. Why don’t you put on a cocktail dress and come down to help me?” She sounded excited at the idea. Dress up meant a cocktail party or something more formal than an outdoor event.

  “I don’t know—”

  “Oh, come on. It’s fun and it’s free food and drink. Please...”

  I hesitated, then caved. It would be a welcome change from my more serious problems and I’d get to hang a bit with Janna. “Okay. I can be there in about thirty minutes. Is that good enough?”

  “Sure. We’ll be going another three hours at least. I’m in the ballroom. Just tell the badge checkers at the door that you’re helping me and they’ll let you in. I’ll tell them now.”

  I hurried upstairs to change and do my hair into a twist. I hunted through my limited fancy dress wardrobe for one that would hide my shoulder and arm bandages and settled on a dark green knee-length sheath with a matching bolero jacket that just managed to cover the end of the arm bandage.

  In record time, I was downstairs and almost out the door. I took a couple of minutes to set the wards on the house, adding the protection prayer to cover everything. Then headed to my Jeep and the party downtown.

  The casino was busy, lots of gamblers at the machines and the tables as I wound my way to the escalator upstairs where the meeting rooms were located. Even here, a lot of people, mostly dressed in semi-formal clothing, milled around and chatted. I made my way to the ballroom and asked for Janna.

  “Are you Gillian?” the badge checker asked with a smile on her face that looked like it had been painted on. Bored hotel staff, I surmised and nodded.

  She handed me a gold-colored wristband and motioned me into the room, pointing to the central buffet tables. I glimpsed Janna at the end of one talking to a silver-haired man in a well-fitted charcoal-gray suit. As I made my way over, she spotted me and waved.

  “You made it. Let me introduce you to Eugene Payton, the head of Real Image Studios. This is their party. Mr. Payton, my good friend and a fabulous musician, Gillian Foster.”

  I smiled and took his offered hand to shake it. He held on a little longer.

  “Ms. Foster, Janna has been singing your praises for the past few minutes. An honor to meet you.” His mid-range voice rose above the chatter in the room.

  “I’m delighted to meet you. Janna is a good friend and I think she imagines she’s my publicist.” I laughed to cover the embarrassment in my voice. First, she tried to get me a job singing for the winery, now this? I didn’t know whether to hug her or slap her.

  “Don’t be modest,” he answered. “She’s a good promoter and she sent me a copy of your album when we booked this event. Unfortunately, we passed on the live music, but I was impressed with your band.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  He tipped his head in acknowledgment and turned away to go speak to some of his guests.

  “What are you doing?” I asked Janna, who’d put on a big smile and waved at a couple of people walking past.

  “Trying to get you a few jobs,” she replied without moving her lips.

  “That’s my agent’s job,” I snapped back. “Look, I appreciate your efforts, but don’t risk your job on my account.”

  She turned to me, smile gone, and a look of concern in her eyes. “I’m not risking my job. Part of it is promotion, making recommendations to clients for entertainment, sound systems, special digital effects, and things like that. So, if I send someone your album, it’s merely a suggestion for a possible entertainer for the event if they want one. No biggie. If they bite, then I give them Cate’s information.”

  “Oh.” I hesitated. Of course, that made sense. I’d been doing my own promotion for so long that I forgot how this business in hotels and casinos worked. “Sorry. Thanks, girlfriend.”

  Her smiled returned, although not as big as she’d flashed to the room, but more genuine. “You’re welcome. Now, get some food and mingle with the guests. Chat a bit and answer questions about the area and things to do.”

  She winked at me, then flitted off another direction to chat with a well-dressed couple who were lingering around a display of the area attractions. I wasn’t quite sure what the purpose of the party was, but if it was to promote the Reno area, I was happy to help.

  The afternoon flew by as I ate, chatted, nibbled, and chatted some more. I moved from table to table, introducing myself and generally finding out a little more about the various people who were attending. After a few questions, I learned many were investors who were invited by Mr. Payton to see the area and listen to his pitch, which he’d given before I arrived, to invest in a film he planned to make in the area.

  So that nut began to crack and I understood the big displays of skiing, fishing, nightlife, hot springs, and of course, casino gaming that surrounded the room. Mr. Payton was doing a classic wine and dine pitch for film funding. Just about everyone in the room was a potential investor, which meant big bucks. I noticed a few stunningly beautiful starlets sprinkled through the crowd to chat and talk about the project. Not to be too sexist, a few handsome young men, who might be B-listers, the actors on their way up, gabbed with the wives when their husbands wandered off.

  The event began to wind down as more and more of the guests drifted out the door heading for the casino or their rooms or even the bar for a quieter setting. I spotted Mr. Payton talking animatedly to an older, portly man who looked like he had money. I could see the diamond ring on his pinky finger from where I watched. Big money. I thought that conversation was going well.

  “What do you think?” Janna asked as she came up beside me.

  “I think it’s been a grand party and Mr. Payton should be happy.”

  “I’m pretty sure he is. Almost everyone I spoke to seemed to think the Reno area is great and an ideal location.”

  I shifted my gaze to her. “Same here. You could have told me he was looking for investors and I could have been more effective with the first dozen or so people before I figured it out.”

  She shrugged. “I wanted you to have a good time. Not work.”

  “I did have a good time. Thanks. I didn’t mind the schmoozing at all,” I said with a sly grin.

  “You know, Gilly. I can use good people on a part-time basis to do events like this. Sometimes my department hires event companies for the extras, but it’s more economical if I can build my own resource group.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “Would you think about working for me when some of these things come up? It’s not a regular, every week thing, but they do pop up fairly frequently and the money is pretty good.”

  “You’re not just doing this because I’m nearly broke and d
estitute, are you?” I let my eyebrows drop into a suspicious look.

  “Of course not. But I am worried about you and it would help you out.”

  Unable to restrain myself, I threw my arms around her, pulling her into a hug. “You’re the best, Janna. Love you so much.” She laughed as she squeezed back.

  “Let me think about it,” I said when we untangled our arms. “I have a lot on my agenda right now and I need to feel like I can manage it all.”

  She nodded, then slipped an envelope into my hand.

  “What’s this?”

  “A paycheck. You worked for me today and did a great job. You deserve it.”

  “Uh uh, no, no. I did this as your friend and for fun, remember?” I waved the envelope in front of her nose.

  “But you helped me out and it’s not that much to get excited about, so take the money, hunny.”

  I smiled at the use of our adolescent pronunciation that she still used as an endearment when talking to me.

  “Only because you insist,” I said, grateful to her in spite of my indignant words. At least, Nygard and I could afford groceries next week.

  As I considered my bank account that evening, I thought more about Janna’s offer. The envelope had contained one-hundred dollars, which was pretty good pay for a less than three hours of talking to people. Sometimes I didn’t make that much for a performance. I had to wonder if she padded it a bit because she knew I needed the money. With the extra grooming work I was picking up on Friday, I was getting by okay, but the additional money would allow me to indulge a bit more.

  On the other hand, my non-paying job ate up a lot of my time in research and training. With the money situation the way it was, I hadn’t been to my martial arts class for several weeks. I felt I needed to resume doing those. Even though I still ran through the exercises and tried to stay fit, it wasn’t as good as working out with a real opponent and learning new ways to counter attacks.

  As if on the same wave link, Gavin sent me a text to come over on Sunday and bring Nygard.