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The Wells Brothers: Aaron

Page 6

by Angela Verdenius


  “I have to get him home.” Seizing the excuse, Shea walked out.

  Expecting Aaron to follow, she was relieved when he didn’t. Moving through the next office she passed Ryan who didn’t look up from whatever he was writing in a small notebook. Through the next door into the reception area where Raymond, the receptionist, was on the phone. He flicked her a brief look and smile.

  At least someone here seemed a little bit friendly.

  Going out into the bright sunlight, she walked briskly next door, meeting Cole in the doorway of their new home.

  “Thank goodness.” Relief was plain in her young brother’s face as he took Ginger from her.

  “Are Red and Carrot secure?” She followed him into the front room.

  “Got them locked in my bedroom.” Going through the door in the back of the room, Cole walked down the corridor to the room he’d commandeered, opened the door and slipped Ginger inside with his brothers.

  When he came back to join her in the front room, they both looked around it.

  “It’ll come together,” Shea assured him.

  “’Course it will,” he responded cheerfully. “Paint, wallpaper, carpet, beads, big-arsed tarot cars, and a crystal ball on a small wooden table. Your domain.” He jerked a thumb back down the passage. “My workroom will have computers, printers, and other paraphernalia to allow me to spy on the customers and get fast background information.”

  She eyed him narrowly. “Is that so?”

  “Yep. Together, we’ll make a killing.”

  “So is this spy-ring thing going to happen before or after school?”

  “During.”

  Shea eyeballed him.

  “After?”

  “Homework.”

  “Before?”

  “How early do you think I’m going to start telling fortunes and things?”

  “Night time. Séances happen at night.”

  “We’ve talked about this.” She tapped his chest. “School during the week for you, homework, whatever is needed to drum some education into your over-sized head-”

  “My brain is over-sized, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t be so smug about it.”

  “I can help you make huge bucks!”

  “You can help me even more by getting an education.”

  “Come on, sis. You know the other night wouldn’t have gone so well without me.” He flexed his bicep, pointed to his head. “That’s my brain flexing in case you didn’t know.”

  “Delightful. You can directly help on a weekend if it’s needed, such as a séance.”

  “Because a séance won’t work with only one client.”

  “Continuing to make comments like that could end up in bruises.”

  “I don’t want to hear about your rough sex-life.”

  “Hearing that come from your mouth is just wrong on so many levels, I don’t know where to start.”

  “You’re right. I think I need to scrub my mind to get rid of that picture I just painted.”

  “Let me get you the toilet brush.”

  This time, Cole eyeballed her. “And here I thought you were the adult.”

  “I am. And speaking of which…” Bending, she picked up one of the boxes sitting on the floor. “If I need your help to do some eavesdropping and snooping, I’ll let you know, okay? Meanwhile, you go to school and concentrate on getting a good education while I do the faking.”

  They looked at each other, their teasing fading. After several heavy seconds, Cole began, “Shea-”

  “Come on, little brother.” With a strained laugh, she shoved the box at him. “Take this to my room.” When he opened his mouth again, she shook her head. “No time to chat, Cole. We need to get everything unpacked and sorted. You’ve school tomorrow so I need you to help with the heavy stuff today.”

  “I could stay home tomorrow and help unpack,” he said hopefully.

  She shoved him towards the door. “Nice try, but no. Now move it.”

  With a sigh, he obeyed.

  While he did so, she looked around the room once more. The building had previously been a deli. The front room took up the whole width with big glass windows each side of the glass door. The Bain Maries and glass encasements where food had once sat were gone, leaving the long, empty counter with the glass top and frontage, ideal for putting the tarot cards, crystals, scented candles and other spiritual/new age-type items in to sell, all to be neatly nestled and placed on dark blue velvet material.

  The ‘fridges and shelves had been stripped out, leaving the room empty except for the pale green, scratched lino. That lino was scheduled to be stripped out and replaced the next morning with industrial carpeting.

  Hands on hips, she walked into the middle of the room, picturing how she was going to decorate it. Clients would enter through the front door, so she had to ensure she gave the room a vibe of mystery yet cosiness. Something to make them relax a little, yet keep them aware that they had stepped into a world of the supernatural.

  To the right she planned to put a folding screen where she and a client would sit at a small round wooden table and do the readings in an allusion of privacy. The front door would be locked to prevent anyone interrupting during the readings, nothing freaked a client out more than someone walking in while they were having a tête-à-tête with a departed loved one. Not wanting to put prospective clients off, she’d had a sign especially made that she’d hang up to lure them back.

  Yep, the front room was being designed for the express purpose of scamming money out of people.

  A pang of guilt hit her but she ignored it, glancing down the hallway through the door in the back of the room. Now that part of the building had been made for a family to live in as they worked the deli, a family business. On the left of the hallway was a small storeroom, lounge and bedroom, on the right two bedrooms and bathroom, with the kitchen running the length of the back followed by a veranda with the laundry off to the side. One of the bedrooms Cole had already claimed for his computers and other electronic bits and pieces.

  Amongst all this the cats would roam. Which reminded her…

  Shea strode down the hallway to the back door, opening it and stepping out onto the veranda. Outside consisted of a sad patch of grass, a garage and a driveway that ran down the length of the building.

  Busy days ahead. A new gate was being put on the side of the building, the grass was going to be spruced up, the back veranda needed new paint and to be partially enclosed with trellis, and garden beds would line the big, stone-walled fence to add some colour.

  Yes, this would be her and Cole’s home. A new start.

  Every bit of optimism dropped away when she looked at the double-storied building next door that housed Wells Security. Wells Security which had done a background check on her and found out exactly what she’d done and now what she was.

  No doubt Mr Know-It-All Aaron Wells knew how far she’d fallen.

  “Its not easy being a whistleblower, is it?”

  “No, Mr Wells,” she murmured, “it bloody well isn’t.” Being right, doing the right thing, didn’t always end well.

  Oddly, there’d been no expression on his handsome face when he’d watched her. The man had a gift for looking at a person, thinking a thousand thoughts, and not reflecting one on his good-looking face.

  He was good-looking, she’d give him that. Just as she’d admit his quiet, calm persona attracted her at the same time the implications of his knowledge hit home suddenly.

  Oh shit. He knew about her. But how much had he told his employer, Elspeth Arkwell? Just that Shea wasn’t a threat to her VIP guests? Or had he told her more? Had he told her about Shea being a fake? Not that he could really know and surely he hadn’t - or if he had, Elspeth hadn’t believed him. After all, Elspeth believed in the supernatural, so she’d be used to sceptics. Plus she’d hired her for the readings.

  But what, exactly, had Aaron told her? Enough to…? Shea swallowed. Enough to destroy her business before she’d even sta
rted it? Wealthy clients wouldn’t like to be in the vicinity of a whistleblower, after all, whistleblowers told the unsavoury truth. A psychic was supposed to be above revealing sensitive information to everyone, to the public. A whistleblowing psychic? Whole other ball game.

  Staring up at the tinted windows of the security company next door, Shea wondered if he’d tell anyone else.

  Cripes, she had to find out.

  “Hey, sis!” Cole called out. “Am I shifting everything myself?”

  Forcing a smile, she walked back inside. “Don’t fret, I’m here to save your arse from doing too much hard work.”

  Cole snorted.

  The rest of the day was spent unpacking what they could, leaving the front room empty for the flooring company to come and finish the next day. But though busy, the uneasiness played in the back of Shea’s mind because she knew one thing with glaring obviousness.

  She wasn’t finished with Aaron Wells just yet.

  Chapter 3

  The front room looked much better already. Two days of hard work was rewarded with industrial grey carpet, fresh paint, and the furniture in place. Some mystical-styled paintings and photos on the walls, a library shelf containing books on spiritualism that she’d bought on-line, a dream catcher near the front door, heavy falls of dark blue velvet curtains pulled each side of the windows to show the dainty lace curtains, a small dark wood table with two chairs in the corner behind the pale blue silk screen, and an elegant Greek-looking statue in the corner of a naked young woman entwined in the husky arms of a classical half-naked man with all the important bits hidden from sight. In the opposite corner of the room sat a stone angel with a cat at his bare feet and a cherub leaning against one knee.

  Clara had been ecstatic when they’d found the statues at an artist’s deceased estate sale. Made by the man who had died, the statues were one-of-a-kind and luckily, since the artist wasn’t famous, they were going cheap. They cleaned up well and were shipped across the country along with the other furniture and bits and pieces, and now gave her shop the air of quiet calmness along with the whisper of ancient things and mystical beings.

  Or so she hoped.

  Now all she had to do was unpack the boxes of sale items, arrange them in the long counter and the front was ready to conduct readings, though she still had a couple of days before she opened for business. The rest of the house was still being painted, and she wanted everything settled in their new home before she started.

  Paint brush in one hand, arms folded, ankles crossed, leaning against the door frame, Shea watched the cats investigate the front room - or, as Cole smartly put it, ‘the mystical room’. Shea had liked it so much she had named the business ‘The Mystical Room’. The perforated window decal being put on the front windows the next day would feature the logo along with appropriately mystical background. The perforated decal meant she could peek out from behind the curtains but no one could see inside, which added to the privacy, which in turn would be of comfort to her customers.

  “Don’t look like that,” she said to Red when his little pink nose crinkled and his ears went back. “Paint stinks, but I’m going to pop you into the back of the house and open the door so it can air. You’ll just have to put up with that.”

  In reply, Red reached up, stuck his claws in the top of the wooden table edge and stretched.

  “You little bugger.” Laughing, Shea shooed him through the door. “You two louts as well. Come on Ginger, Carrot, be good boys.”

  Like that was going to help. Ginger strode past giving her the evil eye, while Carrot trotted along with a scarf dragging along behind him.

  “Listen, you, that’s part of my props. Let go.”

  After a tug-of-war which Carrot won, she sighed as she watched the cats disappear into her bedroom, the hard-fought-for scarf dragging along behind Carrot. Spoilt didn’t begin to describe the furry brothers.

  Not that she really cared.

  Closing the door into the house, she crossed to the front door and opened it wide. The warmth of the summer sun filtered in along with a slight breeze, filling the room and helping to deplete the smell of fresh paint.

  Lighting a few candles produced a mixture of rose and geranium scent into the air. Finding incense a little overpowering, Shea preferred scented candles. Mindful of the cats she never burned them in the rest of the house, choosing instead to have scented oils with reed sticks. The candles she saved for burning when clients came in or the cats were safely shut into the main house. Safety first.

  Standing in the doorway, she breathed in the air. Yep, nothing like the scent of fresh air combined with city. Definitely got a mixture of exhaust fumes, but then again it’d be worse if she was in the main drag instead of here in a nondescript side street. For her nondescript was good, the illusion of privacy for customers seeking contact with the dead without others knowing.

  Spotting one of the black SUVs turn into the Wells Security driveway, she wondered why on earth Aaron would choose to have his office in this area. Surely he’d get more customers if he was situated in the main street?

  That reminded her, she hadn’t yet approached him to ask if he’d revealed her past. She really wanted to know, found it eating at her. Sure, she could wait and see if clients simply didn’t turn up but forewarned was forearmed, right?

  Chewing the tip of one nail, she studied the plain-featured, double-storied building next door. Nothing fancy, starkly business. On one front window was simply ‘Wells Security’ in no-nonsense black print on perforated decal and a phone number. That was it.

  She really needed to go over and ask him. It wasn’t the first time she’d contemplated going over and seeing him, but the thought of entering a place where everyone knew her of being a fake was a little unnerving. Not to mention that every one of the employees who had seen her had simply nodded, their faces blank of all expression.

  Did they follow the bland expression of their boss or was that their way of telling her they disapproved? Well, bugger them. They hadn’t been through what she had, and in a ripple effect, Cole. But sooner or later, for her peace of mind and future planning, she had to track the beast to his lair and yank the truth from him.

  The picture that brought to mind had her grinning as she glanced up at the top windows once more. Maybe he was there right now, lurking in his den, plotting the downfall of wrong-doers.

  Shea was still contemplating it when a car pulled up right in front of her. The redhead getting out of the driver’s side looked familiar, and she realised why as soon as the woman looked at her across the roof.

  “Stella?” Mikki grinned widely. “Are you setting up business here?”

  Curses! Caught without her heavy makeup and fancy clothes. Nothing to do but brazen it out.

  “I am.” Shea smiled slightly. “I had a feeling you’d be by soon.”

  “Really? How awesome.”

  The passenger door opened, a sandy-haired woman climbing out to wave cheerfully. “Hi, I’m Izzy. We didn’t meet at the mansion, my husband and I were away, but I heard your reading was amazing.”

  “Thank you.” Shea indicated her paint-spattered clothes. “I’m afraid you caught me at an inopportune moment. I’m in the middle of getting ready for business.”

  “Hey, no worries.” Mikki beeped the locks on the doors. “Guess even a psychic has household chores.”

  Shea nodded.

  “Good to know you’re setting up business though. I’ll be coming for a reading, for sure.”

  Shea smiled slightly. “Yes, you will.”

  Izzy glanced around. “Will you get much business here? Wouldn’t you be better off on the main street?”

  “Those who have need of me will find me.” Shea tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “This is true.” Mikki nodded. “I’ll spread the word, you’ll get customers.”

  “Maybe I’ll book in for a reading,” Izzy added.

  “You’ll be most welcome.” Shea smiled. “Spirit has a message
for anyone seeking answers.”

  “Iz, you really missed out the other night,” Mikki said enthusiastically. “It was amazing.”

  “So I hear. When do you open for business, Stella?”

  “Friday.”

  “Is that considered a lucky day or something?” Mikki asked curiously.

  Shea grinned. “Lucky if the paint fumes are not so obvious by then.”

  Mikki and Izzy laughed.

  “I hear you,” Izzy said. “Jason and I have been renovating. Man, the paint fumes are foul. I’m so glad the painting on the inside is all finished.” She glanced at the building. “It’s nice to see you’ve got some big pots of flowers out front. Are they symbolic of anything in particular?”

  Moving to the three big pots below the left hand side window, Shea lightly touched each one. “Jasmine is for love. Anthurium for joy, wealth and hospitality. Aster for love and trust.” Which was bloody ironic, considering her current chosen pathway. She indicated the three pots under the right hand window. “On the other side are White Heather for protection, Phlox for harmony, and Rosemary for remembrance.”

  “Nice.”

  “Now Luke would probably have known that,” Mikki mused.

  “Maybe not,” Shea replied.

  “He’s a great landscaper, he knows his plants.”

  Now this was a woman who was proud of her man and not afraid to defend him. Shea filed that away in her brain for a later reading and smiled reassuringly. “I just meant that I found different meanings for the flowers from different areas. Not all meanings are the same everywhere. I chose these for the meanings I personally believe they have.” Plus, she liked the look of them.

  “Oh.” Mikki rubbed her chin. “Interesting. Actually, Luke probably doesn’t know that. But he’d be able to tell you the real names and anything else about keeping them alive and healthy.”

  “The ability of the earth is in his fingertips.” Because that sounded mystical. Not corny, she hoped.

 

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