Wine and iPad in hand, I sat next to the fire pit intent on researching the girl in the white gown. I stared blankly at the Internet on the screen, not even sure where to start.
"Boo."
Startled, I jumped and my iPad tumbled from my hand and hit the deck, landing face down. "Cheese and rice, Ma, you scared the bejesus outta me."
She shot up into the air, spun around in circles, and then floated back down in front of me. "I still got it. You mighta thought I couldn't surprise you anymore, but you were wrong."
"If my iPad cracked I would have been pissed. Consider yourself lucky."
She flung a hand toward me. "iPad schmypad. It ain't like you can do anything to me anyway."
I rolled my eyes, and then sipped my wine. "I could be mad at you and you'd feel bad."
"Says who?"
"Says me. You always feel bad when I'm mad at you."
"Do not."
I huffed. "Plu-leez. Remember that time you accused me—wrongly, I might add—of making up the story about the guy robbing the Michelles' house?"
The Michelles were my neighbors growing up. A sweet, older couple I remember always gave out big candy bars on Halloween. Since I was too young to leave my yard, I'd play outside on the back porch. One day I watched a man standing on the Michelles' back porch and jiggle the kitchen window. He pushed and pounded as I flattened myself against our family room window and watched. When the coast was clear I ran in and gave my mother a play by play of his efforts. She waved me off with, that's nice now go play and sent me back out. The man, still on the porch, had moved to another window. He pushed and pulled on it, too, swearing when it wouldn't budge. After a minute, he moved to the last window on the porch. I tiptoed back inside, stood on a kitchen table chair and described him to my mom. When I compared his hair to the butcher at the grocery, she believed me. A phone call to the police and five minutes later we ran outside as the sirens blared down the street and into the Michelles' driveway. It took three officers to wrestle the man to the ground and cuff him. A reporter came and asked to interview the young lady that saved her neighbors from being robbed by a convicted felon just out on parole that day. My parents opted for no on that one, saying it was in our best interests to keep my name private.
Ma refused eye contact. "No. I don't remember nothin' about a robber at the Michelles' house."
"I don't believe you."
She threw her hands up. "Ah Madone, you were in your lying phase. How was I to know you were tellin' the truth?"
"I was six. I didn't tell lies, I made stuff up."
"You say tomato…"
"The point is you felt bad for not believing me and even worse because I was upset. You even bought me a new bathing suit because you felt so bad, remember? And I'd just got one a week before."
"I didn't buy that bathing suit. The Michelles did."
"They did? Really?"
"They gave you a $10 reward and you wanted a new bathing suit so we went to the store and got one."
"They only gave me ten bucks for saving their house from being robbed by a convicted felon?"
"It was the seventies. Ten bucks went a lot further back then."
"Fine, whatever. The point is you feel bad when I'm mad." I sipped my wine. "And why are we talking about this? I can't remember."
"'Cause I caught you lookin' at naked men on that maxipad thingie of yours."
I laughed so hard my wine glass flew from my hand and crashed into the side of the fire pit and shattered. "Crap. That was real crystal from my wedding." I stood and picked up the bigger pieces of the broken glass. "And I barely have any wine left in the bottle." I flung myself back into my chair and pouted. "I'm gonna get whiny now."
"Oh boy. You gotta go to that twat doc. She can give you somethin' for the menopause."
"You're helpful, thanks."
"I'm just sayin'."
"It's not menopause, Mother. Can't I just be cranky and whiny every once in a while?"
"If it were every once in a while, sure but it seems to me it's a little more often than that." She waved her hand and pieces of crystal swirled an inch above the deck floor, formed a pile, and dropped. If I hadn't been so cranky, I would have been impressed. Instead, I grabbed the bottle of wine and chugged.
"You got a drinking problem? You've been hitting the bottle a lot lately. Should I bring Betty Ford over or something?"
"You know Betty Ford, too?" I asked and then burped. "'Scuse me."
She flicked her hand. "Nah, I don't, but it was funny, right?"
"Maybe a little funny. Who's dead that you'd be hanging out with if you could?" I finished cleaning up the mess. "Paul Newman? He's dead, right?"
Ma swooned. "Yeah, he's dead, but he ain't around." There was a touch of bitterness in her tone.
"You mean he's…he's…" I pointed to the ground. "Down there?"
She roared with laughter. "No, he ain't down there." She pointed to the ground and giggled. "His wife has Alzheimer's so he's with her all the time. From what I hear, she sees him but don't know he's dead. Rumor has it they're reliving the old days."
I wiped a tear from my eye. "That's so incredibly sweet."
"Yah, Newman's one of the last great gentlemen, you ask me. They don't make 'em like that anymore."
I had to agree with her. "Other than Jake and Josh, of course."
"Josh maybe. Jake? I'm not so sure."
We both laughed.
I went inside, threw out the broken glass, and grabbed a cheaper wine glass and a new bottle of Riesling. I popped the cork and filled the glass as I went back to the deck.
"Did you and Tevin go back to the park?"
"Yuppers, but he didn't recognize anyone and I don't think Bach was there."
My mother did some hand gesture and made the duck face expression Emily does in all of her ridiculous selfies.
"Why are you doing that? Stop it. Emily does that enough already."
"I'm hip to the jive. The slang of the gang. The way of the day. I be jammie wit my homies. You feel me?" She made the sign and duck face again.
"Please stop."
"Don't be dissin' me. Homie don't play dat."
I rubbed my temples. "I'm getting a headache."
"That's from all that wine you're drinkin'."
"So you had zero luck at the park then?"
"Yup."
"That poor kid. I feel like if we can figure out what happened to him, he'll get his memory back and will be able to move on."
"He's already gettin' some of it back, so I think he'll get the rest eventually."
"I hope so."
"So what were you doin' before I scared the pee outta ya?" Ma asked.
"Drinking from one of my last crystal wedding glasses and getting ready to research the girl in the white gown."
"Sorry about the glass. Any luck on the girl?"
I shook my head. "Don't even know where to start. Apparently I didn't get your celestial sleuthing genes."
"I didn't get 'em till I died, so maybe yours'll kick in then, too."
"I can't really wait that long." I shut off the iPad. "This is really bugging me. I feel like something's up and I should be helping her but I just don't know what to do."
Ma floated in a sitting position. "Maybe you're not asking the right questions of the right people."
"What do you mean?"
"You went to two places today askin' about rooms for people in a coma."
"And?"
"And you don't even know if she's in a coma."
"I know, but I don't know what else to do."
"Ask her."
"She doesn't stick around long enough for me to get anything outta her." I gulped down a quarter of the wine in my glass.
"Then you gotta figure out a way to make her stay put."
"It's not as easy as it sounds."
"Yah Ang, it is. You got a gift, you need to start using it like you're supposed to."
"I am."
"No, you're not."
/> "Why would you say that? I'm doing everything I can to help Tevin and the girl in the white gown and when a spirit asks for help, I help most of them too. So how am I not using my gift like I'm suppose to?"
"You only help the spirits when they want help but there are a lotta living that could use your help too."
"That has nothing to do with the girl in the white gown."
"It ain't about the girl in the white gown. It's about your gift and using all of it, not just the parts that you're comfortable with. What's the saying? Use it or lose it, I think. If you don't listen to the signs, you ain't gonna be able to help anyone because you won't have a gift anymore."
"I'm trying, Ma."
"No, you're not. You're just sittin' on your butt drinking cheap wine, feelin' sorry for yourself."
That stung. "I'm not feeling sorry for myself and it's not cheap wine. And what signs am I ignoring? Tell me that."
"How about Pam Ryan for one? She wants you to help a friend and you don't wanna have anything to do with that. You think the universe dropped that gift in your lap and said, here ya go. Do whatcha want? Because they didn't. They got a plan and you gotta follow it too if you wanna keep talkin' to the dead. Like me."
And there it was, the next latest push from the universe to expand my gift. "What's the difference between helping a spirit when they come to you and helping the living when they come to you?" she asked.
I hated how well my mother knew me.
I shifted in the chair and tucked my left foot under my right thigh. "I don't know. It's just different."
"I thought you were over worrying about what other people think?"
"I am."
"Don't seem like it to me. Seems like you're still a scaredy cat and don't want the world to know you got the gift, you ask me."
"I'm working with Aaron now and that's helping people."
"Yah, I'll give you that. You're doin' a good thing working with that cranky detective."
"He's not cranky."
"If he ain't cranky then I'm Mother Teresa. All's I'm sayin' is that sure, you're helping people by working with the cranky detective but you're still afraid people are gonna find out about your gift, and you gotta let that go."
"People are finding out. I just want to take it slow and not let it cross over into my personal life. I don't want it hitting that close to home and Pam is really close to home."
"Why not?"
"Because of Emily. If she found out, she'd be a basket case. She's doing so well now and I don't wanna screw that up. You know how she'd be if she found out. She doesn't believe it's possible to talk to spirit. She'd think I'm crazy."
"She's a young girl. She'll adapt."
I shook my head. "I'm not sure about that and I don't think I can take that risk."
"Yah, well things are changin' whether you like it or not, so you might as well go with the flow."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Forget it."
"No, tell me. What's changing and what flow should I be going with?"
She shrugged.
"Seriously?"
"All's I'm sayin' is your gift is growing, so be prepared for things to change 'cause that's the way the world works. And I ain't sayin' nothing more about it."
I opened my mouth to argue but she cut me off.
"You don't wanna help that girl in the white gown, then quit your bitchin'. You wanna talk to her, then you summon her and make her stay long enough to get something from her. Easy peasy." She stretched her arms toward me, her palms facing up. "Here, we'll do it together. Put your hands over mine. It's a nifty trick I learned in spirit guide school. We use your gift and I just give it a little power boost. Kinda like when Popeye ate his spinach."
I put my hands above hers and wished I could hold them just one more time. My palms tingled and warmed. "I feel something."
"Yah, that's me. I got good energy 'cause I've been dead a while. Think about the girl, and close your eyes, then ask her to come here. Tell her you want to help her but you need to talk to her to do it and she's gotta stick around, too. Really focus, Ang. You got it?"
I closed my eyes and my mind flooded with memories of my mother. The way her eyes sparkled when I'd come home after school and tell her about my day. How she'd cheer me on at swim meets, screaming so loud she'd lose her voice.
"Stop it," she said.
I opened my eyes. "Stop what?"
"Thinkin' about me. Focus on the girl."
"You know what I'm thinking now?"
She pointed a finger to her transparent forehead. "Advanced spirit, remember?"
"So you can read my mind?"
"Nah, I can feel the pull. Now think about the girl. You got good energy. Use it."
"The pull?"
"Ah Madone, focus."
"Okay." I shifted in my seat and repositioned my hands above hers. "I'm thinking about the girl."
"Don't tell me you're thinkin' about her, for cryin' out loud. Just do it. Geesh."
So I did, and in what seemed like hours, but was really only seconds, the girl appeared, trembling and nervous. "Can you help me?"
I hesitated, unsure of just what to say.
"Go on," Ma said. "She ain't gonna bite or nothin'."
"I think so but I need you to tell me what's going on."
"I'm scared. I don't think he's coming back."
The hair on my arms stood and my shoulders tightened. "Where are you? I'll come get you."
"I…I'm not sure."
Ma hovered near the girl. "Are you in a coma? Are you hooked up to a machine or something?"
She clutched her arm, tugged on it but it wouldn't move. "No. I'm scared and I'm hungry. Why isn't he coming back?"
"Who? Who isn't coming back? What's your name? Tell me your name and where you are, so I can help you. Please." My heart beat. I thought I was having a heart attack. "Anything, tell me anything you can."
She twisted her head, moving it up and down and to the side like she was searching for something. "Stones," she said. She jerked her arm but it wouldn't go further than her shoulder. She pulled on it with her other arm and cried, "It's chained to something. Where is he? Why is he doing this to me?"
Her body shuddered again and she flickered in and out. We were losing her.
"Wait! What's your name?"
"He thinks I'm Caroline."
"Who? Who thinks you're Caroline? Who are you?"
She flashed in and out again.
I squeezed my hands into fists and pounded them against the sides of my legs. "No, don't!"
But it was too late. She was already gone.
I fell back into my seat. "Son of a bitch."
"Well at least we know for sure she's alive."
"Yeah but for how long? She said he hasn't come around for a while. Who, Ma? Who hasn't come and where is she?"
"I don't know. I really don't know."
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph."
"You got that right."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JAKE WAS NESTLED in the middle of our bed with the covers wrapped around his shoulders, snoring like a freight train. I nudged him. "Jake, wake up." He didn't respond, so I nudged harder. "Honey, wake up."
He rolled over and moaned. "What time is it?"
"I don't know," I lied. "But I need you to get dressed and come out to the driveway, please."
He rubbed his face. "What's going on? Is it Emily? Is she okay?"
Couldn't fault him for that assumption, given her history. "No, she's fine but I need you to come outside, okay?"
He sat up and checked the clock on his nightstand. "It's midnight. What's going on?"
"It's about the girl in the white gown. Aaron's on his way over. Can you go get dressed, please?"
He threw the covers off and stood, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I have to be up in four and a half hours."
"I know, honey, and I'm sorry but I feel like this deserves more than a text or phone call, and I think you should he
ar it, too, just in case you have any thoughts or suggestions."
He nodded. "Okay, gimme a minute."
Jake was a prince. I hugged him and kissed him on the lips. "You're amazing."
He hugged me back. "So I'm told."
"I'll be outside with my mom. Try not to wake up the kids."
He saluted me. "Yes, ma'am."
I'd just walked out the front door when Aaron's car rolled up the driveway with just the parking lights on.
"Thanks for coming."
"It's midnight and I've gotta be at work in seven hours. You better be worth it." He smirked but I suspected there was more than a little truth in his comment.
Jake walked out sporting the sleeping man's Mohawk and wearing a Harley tee shirt and plaid pajama bottoms. Everything about that man made my stomach flutter, Mohawk and all. In that moment it occurred to me that our love was a permanent lock and that I was blessed. I hoped I would remember to show that more often.
"Okay," Jake said. "We're here." He acknowledged Aaron with a nod and Aaron returned the acknowledgement.
"Ma's here, too." I shook my thumb to my left and told them what we'd learned.
"You're not giving me anything to work with here." He turned his attention to Jake. "Does this ever get easier?"
"Not really."
"Great."
"There has to be something we can do," I said. "She said he calls her Caroline. Maybe we can check through that database of yours for girls named Caroline."
"Is there a list of crooks partial to that name?" Jake asked.
"I think there's one for Lily and Candace but I'm not sure about Caroline."
"I think they're making fun of you," Ma said.
"Ya think?" I leaned against Aaron's car. "Seriously. I could use some help here please."
"Okay," Aaron said. "All kidding aside, I'm not sure what you're telling me is enough for me to move forward, even in an unofficial capacity, which it would have to be." He grabbed his notepad and pencil from his car and jotted down something. "Okay, is there anything else you can tell me?"
"It's just a feeling but I think Caroline is the key. If we figure out the importance of Caroline, we'll find the girl."
Uncharted Territory (An Angela Panther Mystery Book 3) Page 15
