by Shea Meadows
A creak of the stairs alerted them to Beth Ann’s arrival in the room “Ricky, are you okay? Can I get you some tea or something?” Beth Ann sat down beside her on the couch and pulled a tissue from the box on the end table.
Ricky shook her head as she dried her eyes. “I’m alright. The whole thing is overwhelming.” She turned to Detective Clark. “This is Beth Ann Aims. She was Tilda’s personal assistant and friend. She can tell you anything you need to know about Tilda’s recent activities.
Beth Ann looked toward the policeman. “How can I help?”
He checked the recorder and pointed at it. “This is being recorded. Okay with you?”
Beth Ann nodded.
“Pretend I know absolutely nothing about Matilda Banner and give me an overview of her work.”
Beth Ann didn’t answer right away. “I know what will help.” She got up and disappeared into Moon’s office. She returned with a dark blue album with golden moons and angels decorating its cover and opened to about the middle.
“Moon knew I had this, but it wasn’t her idea. She wasn’t big on the fame and fortune stuff. Her booking agent always had a horrible time getting her to pose for publicity shots.” Beth Ann pointed to pictures and articles in the scrape book.
“Since you didn’t ask about how Moon got started, I’ll tell you about her focus in the last year. Here’s Moon with Avery Sweet, the nationally known medium. He wrote the forward to her last book. She’s written four, all are guidance for people wanting to communicate with Spirits. They’re written in sequence with basic information first then more difficult techniques in each of the following books. She wrote them because she’d been teaching classes for eight years, and an editor from a publishing house was one of her students. She finally convinced Moon to put her lessons in print so more people could benefit.”
Detective Clark jumped in when Beth Ann paused for breath. “So Matilda, or Moon as you call her, was a medium? She communicated with people’s deceased relatives?”
“Yes, she did, but that wasn’t all.” Beth Ann smiled. “She spoke to souls of beings coming in to be born, also elementals, angels and many other interdimensional beings. Not only did she speak to them, she merged with them. She could go back into the ghosts’ lives and review an incident that might be keeping them earthbound, or turning them into trouble makers.”
“I have a filing cabinet full of letters and emails from people she helped with disembodied relatives who were causing problems. She got calls from all over the world after her books were published, and she traveled extensively. Often, the entity was hanging around a house or public building for years. Moon was extremely successful at clearing haunted places.”
Ricky rolled her eyes, trying not to be too obvious in her disbelief.
Detective Clark seemed to be taking all of this seriously, jotting notes as Beth Ann spoke. “She worked for the Minneapolis police sometimes, didn’t she?” he asked.
“Yes, and she did phone consultations with law enforcement in other states and countries.” Beth Ann flipped over several pages to an article about a case in Toronto. A highlighted paragraph stated that Moon Angel was instrumental in finding a kidnapped child through her psychic guidance.
Detective Clark gestured toward Ricky. “Ms. Banner said her sister was a healer. Tell me about that.”
Beth Ann flipped to the start of the book. “Here’s Moon Angel with a group of her Reiki students. I’ve lost track of how many healers she trained. She was a Reiki Master as well as working in several other healing modalities. She studied gemstone healing with Mel Shank and was extremely knowledgeable. After the books came out, she concentrated mainly on working with the spirits, because so many people wanted help. She considered that healing work as well.”
“What was happening right before the accident? What was she working on?”
Beth Ann frowned. “She had a class on the schedule for next week. It was beginning level communications with a whole new group of students. I’ll have to call them. Some might not have heard. She’d just finished working with a woman in Ohio, clearing her house of the spirit of her great grandmother. Other then that, there was something else, but I’m not sure what.”
“What do you mean by something else?”
She shook her head. “Moon had this whole other thing going on. She’d shut herself up in the meditation room for hours, but instead of coming out looking relaxed, she’d be upset. Then she’d go racing off somewhere, working on some project that she didn’t share with anyone. If it was a new client, it would have come through me. I arranged all her appointments. But this was something else, I’m not sure what, and it seemed to take up more and more of her time.”
“There may be someone who knows about what she was doing, Jeremy Flint,” Ricky said. “Beth Ann can tell you how to reach him. I heard him say something about trying to stop her from a dangerous course of action.”
The detective nodded and pulled a paper from his case. “Your father gave me his contact information. Here’s his statement. He said Matilda was doing research on something very secret and mystical. She confided that there was only one way to solve a problem with the project, and she was trying to decide if it was worth the personal risk. He urged her to abandon it all together, but she refused, and they quarreled. She said he had to accept her work as part of who she was, and if he couldn’t, that was it for them. He insisted she stop the project, and they broke it off.”
Beth Ann shook her head. “That sounds just like Jeremy, a non-explanation, built on hints and evasions. All you learned is that he was worried about her but nothing about what she was working on. She wouldn’t tell me why they broke up a month ago. After that, she was running off to unknown destinations more and more frequently. I was getting worried. She wasn’t herself. If I’d only persisted, maybe she’d have told me what was going on. She started to several times, but she…”
She was interrupted mid-sentence, when the elusive black cat bounded into the room and leapt into her lap. “Oh Pigeon, I was wondering where you were. I looked all over for you last night.” The cat rubbed up against Beth Ann and purred, then jumped from her lap into Ricky’s. It nestled there, purring and preening, looking into Ricky’s face, completely unlike its reaction to her earlier in the day.
Ricky resisted the temptation to shriek and dump the unpredictable feline from her lap, because Detective Clark had reached over to rub the creature under its chin. “Beautiful black Persian, did it belong to Matilda?”
Beth Ann nodded. “Whenever Moon was here, Pigeon was close by. She’d greet all of Moon’s students and clients and was offended if people didn’t like cats and wanted her out of the room.”
The detective smiled at Ricky. “Is this the fierce cat that made you drop the phone during our conversation?”
“Yeah, it’s the same cat, but now he loves me for some reason. Earlier, I thought he was going to bite me.”
Beth Ann laughed. “He must have been surprised to find you in Moon’s bed. Even though you and Moon were identical twins, cats know the difference.”
Ricky tentatively brushed her finger tip between Pigeon’s ears. “The main difference is that I’m one of those horrible people who aren’t too fond of cats. But we should go back to our discussion; Detective Clark doesn’t want to waste his time hearing about Tilda’s pets.”
The detective nodded in agreement. “We’ve got some important things to figure out.” He looked toward Beth Ann. “Do you think Matilda was depressed? Some of the behavior you mentioned indicates high levels of stress. Could she have been desperate enough to commit suicide?”
Beth Ann looked anxious when she heard this, then the worry cleared from her face and was replaced by a smile. “Just a second, I can clear up that notion.” She again went into the office and returned with a book in her hand. “This is book three in the ‘Communication with Spirits’ series. It’s in here…” She leafed through to about the middle and then read from the text:
‘
My experience with JD was one of the most difficult challenges in my years of working with troubled spirits. He had despaired and driven his car off a cliff. First contact was deceptively easy. He seemed to welcome the company and greeted me like a sister. I asked him to tell me what he was feeling, and within an instant, I was experiencing the explosion of the car, the burning of flesh, the realization that he’d made a horrible decision. It didn’t happen only once, but over and over again, and I was trapped in the memory with him. It took considerable concentration, and focus on the angelic vibration, to separate myself from his anguish, so I could use the techniques that I will outline in this chapter, to free him.’
‘The memory of this drawing into suicidal vibrations established one truth: suicide does not solve anything. It sets up a sequence that may hold the person captive for days, months or years, not to mention future lifetimes. It’s something that we as communicators must remember when dealing with our own times of fear and frustration.’
Beth Ann read through tears as she finished. She blew her nose and whipped her eyes. “Moon was one of the best communicators on the planet. If she found it difficult to work with suicides, she’d know for sure that her students would find it hard to help her. She’d never take the chance of being locked into the moment of the accident.”
“It certainly sounds like she had strong opinions about it,” Detective Clark responded, but we can’t discount it totally.”
Ricky sat with the cat still on her lap and the crystal in her hand. She was so stunned by what Tilda had written that it was difficult to speak. “The one thing I know about my sister, detective, is that she was true to her word. If she said she’d never kill herself, you can take it as gospel. Unless you can prove to me that she did—which I think will be difficult without a suicide note— I’ll take her word for it. She said the same thing in her living will. It doesn’t fit that she’d do it anyway.”
He nodded. “Personally, I agree with you, but I have to continue to dig for a bit before labeling this an accident: ‘due to unknown causes.’ Is Mr. Townsend available yet? He’s made some inconsistent statements about how he obtained the living will.”
Beth Ann shook her head. “We haven’t heard from him since yesterday. I was really surprised he didn’t show up to help with the memorial service. He and Moon were pretty close.”
“What was his relationship with Matilda?” The detective asked.
Beth Ann looked out the front window and reached over to brush her hand over the cat’s tail. Her face displayed a whole parade of conflicting emotions. “Chester and Moon were engaged for about a year, about ten years ago.”
She turned toward Ricky whose mouth was open in surprise. “Moon was pretty private, so only a few of us knew about the relationship. Even your dad thought they were just dating. It was Chester’s idea more than hers. She seemed ambivalent about the whole thing. It was just after you left Minneapolis, Ricky, so she didn’t talk to you about it. Thought it would be too painful for you.”
Ricky was too stunned to respond. My sister had more secrets than I ever thought possible. She was involved with the man who predicted I’d be left at the altar. No wonder she didn’t tell me. Ricky nodded. “We’ll talk about this later, Beth Ann. It’s really not relevant to Tilda’s death.”
“The engagement may factor into her current state of mind,” the detective speculated. Was Mr. Townsend jealous of the relationship with Mr. Flint? Was Matilda maybe caught in the middle?”
Beth Ann shook her head. “It wasn’t that way at all. Chester sulked after Moon broke it off. He disappeared for about a year, then breezed back into town as if nothing had happened. He always supported Moon’s work and returned when she started the spirit communication classes. He’s really psychic and became one of her best students. Then, for reasons known only to him, he disappeared again after two years and was gone until Moon’s first book came out. She took him back when he returned, and he’s been an assistant teacher and an accomplished communicator ever since.”
Detective Clark shifted in his chair. “Did he date others after she broke it off?”
Beth Ann looked down and blushed. “Um, ah, we were an item for a couple of years. It seemed like it was getting serious, then he backed away. He’s a complicated person, tends to be rather solitary. I guess I was too extroverted for him. For the last year, he’s been living on and off with Shelly Sanborn, another of Moon’s students. Shelly just moved to New York, so he’s been sulking lately. I think he got an apartment in an extended stay building. I don’t know how he’ll deal with Moon’s death. He might see it as a rejection, as if she had a choice in the matter.”
The phone on the end table rang, causing the cat to bolt from Ricky’s lap. Beth Ann picked up the phone. “Hello, this is Moon Angel’s residence. Oh, Chester. We were just talking about you….No nothing bad. Detective Clark needs to speak with you. He’s from the Highway Patrol. They’re investigating the accident….. Just a second, I’ll ask him.”
She turned to the detective and put her hand over the phone. “He’s on his way over. Can you wait for him?”
The detective nodded.
She returned to the phone. “Yup, he’ll wait. Where are you? …. Okay, I’ll let him know. See you soon.”
She hung up the phone. “He’s at the airport. He says he was seeing off a friend. He’ll be here as soon as possible.”
Ricky looked at the detective. “Is there something we can do for you in the meantime?”
He picked up book three of Moon’s texts. “Is it possible to get a copy of this? Maybe a set of all four books? It would give us a better idea of her beliefs.”
Beth Ann nodded. “I have a supply in the office. She had several groups, at various stages of training, who used the books during classes.”
“Thanks, and one more request while we wait for Mr. Townsend; can I have a tour of the house? It would help me feel more connected to her.”
Ricky stood up. “That’s an excellent idea. Beth Ann can be our tour guide. I’ve only seen this level and two rooms on the second floor. I’m sure there are tons of surprises elsewhere in the house. Everything about Moon and her group is surprising.”
“Nothing really shocking,” Beth Ann blushed when she answered. “Maybe a little different from what you’re used to. I used to take groups of students through to dispel their curiosity about the house where their teacher co-existed with a ghost. Should we start right here?”
Ricky looked around, feeling a strange rush of cool air. “Okay, Beth Ann, lead on.”
Beth Ann took a deep breath, straightened her stance and went into tour-guide mode. It was obvious to Ricky she’d done this before. “This was the Norton Reston house, built in 1922 for his wife Emily as a wedding gift. Four children were born here, and three died in childhood. William Reston, the surviving son, hated the place, claimed it was haunted. He swore he felt the presence of his siblings while he was growing up. When his mother died, followed two years later by his father, he inherited the house, and then tried to sell it. Everyone who came to view it was freaked out by unexplained happenings. It seemed like the two girls and a boy had joined forces with mom and dad to hold on to the homestead.
“Moon was called in to talk to the Spirits. She was able to clear all but one of them out. Nellie, the youngest, is still around. Moon liked her, so she stopped trying to convince her to cross over and let her stay. It was okay with William Reston, because Moon fell in love with the house and bought it. It was a struggle financially for her at first, and some of her students lived here and helped her make the mortgage with their rent payments.
“After her books became successful, she paid off the house free and clear. She then started remodeling.” Beth Ann gestured to the living room. “This great room was created from the formal dining room and living room. The breakfast nook used to be a downstairs bedroom.” Beth Ann led into the kitchen. “The kitchen was updated last year and the three season porch added.” She opened a door which
revealed a large pantry. “Moon loved this pantry. It’s one of the places where evidence of Nellie Reston often shows up. Nellie likes to play with flour. Moon used to keep it in metal containers to keep Nellie from making a mess.”
Ricky rolled her eyes at Detective Clark behind Beth Ann’s back, expecting him to smirk in return, but he seemed to be taking all of it seriously.
Beth Ann led them to a stairway behind the pantry. “There are two sets of stairs leading to the second floor. The first, in the living room, was for the family. The Restons had a housekeeper and a nanny for William who were asked to use the servants’ stairs. Nellie used to like them too, and people still hear her going up and down during the night.”
Ricky tried to hide her disbelief but a sound half-way between a snort and a laugh escaped, a product of her frazzled state.
Beth Ann turned to her. “Ricky, I told you strange things happen here. Now I’m letting you know why. Are you doing okay?”
Ricky smiled a rather lopsided grin. “Sorry, Beth Ann, but I don’t share Tilda’s passion for ghosts. Old houses creak and groan. It’s a common occurrence. If you want to make something else out of it, go ahead, but I just don’t buy it.”
Detective Clark rested his hand lightly on her shoulder. “Don’t be so fast to discount this stuff. I’ve run into some pretty amazing things. There are ten famous haunted houses in the Twin Cities, and this is listed as one of them. Besides, weren’t you the one who just told me that if Tilda said something it was the truth? It would be as true for ghosts as it is about her feelings on suicide.”
“I said she was truthful about what she believed. I didn’t say what she believed made any sense.” Ricky turned toward the narrow, gloomy staircase. “Oh well, I guess I’m out-numbered. Two out of three people on the tour think ghosts are real. So let’s go up the spooky stairs.”
