An Unhappy Medium

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An Unhappy Medium Page 13

by Dawn Eastman


  I heard Mac’s voice out in the hall and hurried out to talk to him.

  I caught the angry look he gave Grace and stopped.

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I merely said that it might be too much to ask of you,” Grace said, in that bored tone she used when she didn’t want to be questioned. “I thought I was doing you a favor.”

  Paul turned away from them and I couldn’t read his expression.

  “I’ll thank you to keep your favors to yourself, Grace,” Mac said in an icy tone.

  I stepped forward to break up whatever was going on.

  Mac looked past Grace as I approached. I could tell from the concern in his eyes that they had already told him about our fortune-telling adventures.

  “Are you okay?” he stepped forward and drew me into a hug. “I wish they wouldn’t make you do these things,” he said into my hair.

  This was a major step forward for us. It used to be that I would try to hide any psychic experiments from him out of fear that he wouldn’t approve and because I thought he was so skeptical that he wouldn’t be able to handle it. But I had been wrong to doubt him. It seemed he was a more open-minded skeptic than I had given him credit for. Any disapproval was based in his concern for me, not fear of psychic phenomena.

  I was glad he was here and felt myself calming and coming back to my normal self as he held me.

  “What did Grace do?” I whispered.

  “Grace, why don’t you tell Clyde what happened?” Mac turned toward her, keeping his arm firmly around my waist.

  “Really, Mac,” Grace drawled, “You’re overreacting.”

  “What did you do?” I asked, slowly and with Mom’s steely edge to my voice.

  Grace sighed and held her hands out to the side. “After Mac talked to us yesterday at the station, I merely suggested to his boss that it might be a conflict of interest for him to be working on the case.”

  I heard a gasp from behind me. Mom and Vi stepped forward.

  “Grace, what were you thinking?”

  “Is it really such a big deal?” Paul waded into the argument. “Derek probably had a million enemies. It’s not going to be that hard to find the killer.”

  “Did it ever occur to either one of you that you are actually suspects?” Mac said through clenched teeth. “I might have been able to help you. Assuming you didn’t do it.”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Vi stepped between Paul and Mac.

  I tugged on Mac’s sleeve and we stepped out onto the porch. He paced and glowered. I peeked inside to see Grace and Paul in a tense conversation with Vi.

  “Mac, we’ll figure this out,” I said.

  He stopped pacing. “You’re right,” he said. He lowered his voice. “The truth is, Grace is probably right. I shouldn’t be on the case. I’m too close to it.”

  I was surprised he felt that way, but agreed that it would be a lot easier to deal with my sister if my significant other wasn’t questioning her in a murder investigation.

  “Who’s taking over the case?”

  “Roy Fisk.” Mac said his name with no intonation, but I knew how he felt about Roy. Roy was new to the department, and from the east side of the state. He didn’t know the area the way Mac did. He was a strict by-the-book investigator. As long as his boxes were checked, he didn’t look any further.

  Mac rubbed his jaw and then pulled me into another hug. “Now I know why you were so stressed when you heard she was coming to town. She doesn’t pull her punches, does she?”

  I shook my head against his chest and wished Grace had never come back to Crystal Haven. “I’m sorry, Mac.”

  He pulled away and looked down into my eyes. “This is in no way your fault.”

  “My family is just . . .”

  “A handful, but we can deal with it.” He smiled and kissed my forehead.

  We stepped back inside and Grace looked at us carefully.

  “Still friends?” she said to Mac.

  “Maybe,” he mumbled.

  “I knew you wouldn’t stay mad,” Grace said. She put her hand on Mac’s arm but pulled away instantly as if he were hot.

  “Let’s not fight anymore,” Mom said. She was fidgeting with her hands and watching us like she was waiting for an explosion.

  “It’ll be fine, Mom,” I said. I stayed close to Mac and hoped Grace would move on to other subjects.

  We were milling uncomfortably around the front door when the bell rang again. Paul swung it open and gestured Rupert inside.

  Rupert’s light jacket hung askew on his shoulders and his shirt was partly untucked. He had a briefcase and an overstuffed file under one arm.

  Grace took his hand and turned her brightest smile on him. “Thank you so much for coming on a Sunday. As soon as I knew you would be here to take care of this I started to relax.” She slipped her hand onto his arm in the manner of a Victorian woman being led in to dinner. Rupert gazed adoringly at her.

  “Shall we?” Grace swept her arm in the direction of the living room.

  Mac took my hand and squeezed. He wasn’t going to let this fight affect the issue with the kids.

  We settled ourselves on Mom’s delicate fringed couches and chairs while Rupert rummaged in his briefcase before he remembered that the papers were in the file he had dropped onto the coffee table.

  “All right,” he said. “This won’t take more than a couple of minutes. Once I find the documents . . .” He flipped through his stack of papers and muttered to himself. “Here they are!” He triumphantly pulled a small stack out of the pile.

  He placed the papers on the table and moved the file and his briefcase to the floor.

  “This is the new will you asked me to draw up,” he said to Grace and Paul. “It has the changes you asked for in regard to the dispersal of your estate in the event of your death.”

  Paul pulled the paper toward himself. He and Grace read the indicated portion.

  “While they are looking that over, you two can read this document that outlines the guardianship agreement and the trust that Mr. and Mrs. Proffit have arranged for the children.”

  Mac and I signed the paper, Rupert notarized it, and we were done. Grace visibly relaxed after the documents were signed and Rupert began packing up his things.

  “Thank you both for doing this,” she said.

  “It really means a lot to us,” Paul said.

  “Of course,” I said. “We’re family and I adore the kids.” Mac sat quietly next to me, but I no longer sensed anger in him.

  “I know Seth is crazy about you two as well,” Grace said. “This will be for the best.”

  “Let’s hope we never need to test it out,” I said.

  “Of course,” Grace said. She didn’t meet my eyes. “Let’s hope.” She reached for Paul’s hand.

  20

  My phone shrilled loudly in the quiet house. I looked at my clock—three a.m. I rummaged on my bedside table to find the phone in the dark. It sat facedown and I grabbed at the thin band of light around its edges.

  Mac mumbled and rolled over.

  “Hello?”

  “Clyde?” Grace’s voice sounded staticky. “I’m so sorry.”

  “What?” I pushed myself up to a sitting position. “Grace?”

  “I know you never liked the Tahoe, but still,” Grace said. “I’m sorry.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about. I had inherited a white Tahoe SUV last summer but preferred my Jeep. I’d lent the Tahoe to Grace to use while they were in town.

  “Tahoe?”

  “Don’t believe everything you hear. Tell Dad, 10-40.” The call disconnected.

  I was fully awake now. I knew what 10-40 was supposed to mean, but it didn’t make any sense.

  “Grace?”

  I hit the callback button, but
it went straight to voice mail. I clicked through my contacts and called Paul’s phone. Voice mail.

  “Mac, wake up.” I shook his shoulder.

  “I’m awake,” he mumbled.

  “Grace is in trouble.”

  Mac sat up slowly and clicked on the lamp by the bed.

  “What?” He squinted at me in the newly bright room.

  “That was Grace on the phone and she wasn’t making sense.” I punched redial and still got voice mail.

  “What did she say?”

  “Something about my Tahoe and a 10-code for Dad.”

  “Didn’t you loan them the Tahoe while they were here?” Mac lay back down and reached for the light. “Maybe something happened to it.”

  “No, it sounded like something more than that.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and went to my closet to grab a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. “I’m going over there.”

  “Now?” Mac also got out of bed, but he stood there as if still dazed from his rude awakening. His hair stood up in all directions. He reached for a T-shirt to pull on over his long flannel sleep pants.

  “Yes, now.” I yanked the hoodie over my head and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I grabbed my bag and walked into the hallway. It was so quiet here without Seth and the dogs.

  “Wait, I’ll come with you.” He followed me into the hallway, tugging on jeans and trying to smooth his hair.

  Mac and I climbed into my Jeep and drove the few blocks to my parent’s house. The gravel driveway sent pinging rocks into the undercarriage and seemed very loud in the early morning stillness.

  The house was dark and silent. As I stepped out of the car into the small clearing in front of the porch, it felt as if the house held its breath.

  The Tahoe wasn’t in the driveway.

  I quietly mounted the steps and unlocked the door with the key that always sat over the doorframe. It swung open with a loud creak. Mac and I grimaced at each other and waited. I relaxed my shoulders, thinking we had gotten away with our sneaky entrance. And then the barking started. First, a low warning bark from Baxter, followed by a cacophony of high-pitched yips from Tuffy. At least that answered the question about their usefulness as guard dogs. Or at least intruder-alarm dogs.

  A few moments after the noise began, Vi’s door swung open, spilling light into the downstairs hallway. The upstairs light clicked on and Baxter barreled down the stairs, looking ferocious and annoyed. Tuffy scrabbled along the wood floor in his wake. They both skidded to a stop when they saw us and began their usual greeting dance.

  “What’s going on?” Vi said. She clutched a worn purple robe at her neck, and her braid looked messy from sleep.

  Seth and Sophie appeared on the upstairs landing, rubbing their eyes and yawning. Mom and Dad stood just behind them.

  I walked over to Vi and in a low voice said, “Where’s Grace?”

  Vi glanced up the stairs to the landing. Then she walked to the foot of the stairs, her brow wrinkled.

  “Rose, is Grace up there with you?”

  Mom turned as if she expected Grace to be standing behind her. She hurried down the hall and we heard her click open the door to the guest room.

  “Grace?” Mom’s voice floated out of the room and down the stairs. I was getting more worried by the moment. Mac slid an arm over my shoulders.

  “They’re gone,” Mom said when she returned to the landing.

  “They said they were going to meet one of Grace’s old high school friends in Grand Rapids tonight,” Dad said.

  “No, Frank,” Mom said. “They’re gone. Suitcases, clothing, everything.”

  Everyone spoke at once and I noticed Sophie leaning into Seth, looking scared.

  “Let’s sit down and figure this out,” I said.

  We all trooped into the living room. The kids sat on the floor, backs against the couch. Seth had his arm around Sophie and she stared at the adults with large eyes.

  “Grace called me about a half hour ago to apologize for the Tahoe and to say not to believe everything I hear,” I turned to Dad. “She said to tell you, ‘10-40.’”

  Dad frowned. “That means ‘false alarm.’”

  I leaned toward Dad. “That’s what I thought. But it doesn’t make sense. What’s a false alarm?”

  Sophie whispered something to Seth. He turned to look at her and she nodded slowly.

  “What is it, Sophie?” I asked.

  She looked at each of us and seemed to sink further back into Seth.

  “That’s the code,” she said.

  “What code?” Vi said.

  “She said she and Daddy might have to go away but they would be fine,” Sophie said.

  “You mean they were planning this?” I asked. “Seth, did you know about this?”

  Seth shook his head.

  Mac knelt down next to Sophie on the floor.

  “Sophie, tell me exactly what your mom told you—it’s very important,” Mac said.

  “She said that she would have to go away and that people might say she’d been in an accident, but it wasn’t true.” Sophie’s eyes filled with tears. “She said that when it happened I probably wouldn’t be able to see Miranda again.”

  “Who’s Miranda?” Mom asked. “Come sit with me, sweetie. Tell us about Miranda.”

  Sophie got up and snuggled close to Mom on the couch.

  “Miranda is my nanny. She takes care of me all the time. She takes me to school and makes my dinner and helps me with my homework. She goes to all my dance recitals and school things.”

  Mom looked at Vi and Dad and pulled Sophie closer.

  “How long has she been taking care of you?” Mom asked. She pulled Sophie tighter and a long look passed between Mom and Dad.

  “Since I was five,” Sophie sniffled. “She always reads to me before I go to bed. Who will do that now?” Sophie’s voice rose to a wail. I didn’t think it was lost on any of us that Sophie was more concerned about her nanny than her possibly missing parents.

  I was furious at Grace for doing this to her kids. Where did she think she was going and why would she have just left them like this?

  Mac’s phone rang and he pulled it out quickly to check who was calling at this hour of the morning. He clicked it open and stepped out of the room, his face blank except for the tight line of his mouth.

  “I knew they were worried about something at work, but I had no idea it was this bad,” Seth said.

  Mac stepped back into the room and signaled for me to join him in the hallway. Mom took Sophie out to the kitchen to make hot cocoa for everyone. Dad looked shell-shocked, and for once Vi had nothing to say.

  “That was the sheriff’s office,” Mac began. “They’ve found the Tahoe. He called because he wanted to give me some warning.”

  “Warning?”

  “It’s been found in Bailey Harbor at the marina. The lights were on and the alarm was sounding. They were able to trace the plate back to you.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “I thought they took the car and went somewhere.”

  He shook his head.

  “The car was parked illegally on the dock. They must have driven through the barrier—the front end is smashed up and the fender is barely attached. The police got there in time to see a boat burst into flame out on the lake,” Mac said. “The rip current was very strong today. They’re searching for survivors, but they think anyone who jumped off the boat would be swept out into Lake Michigan.” He reached out and pulled me closer. And through the roaring in my ears, I heard Seth gasp behind me.

  21

  I turned quickly and saw Seth’s stricken face. I stepped forward and hugged him. Even though he was taller than me, for those few moments I felt like he was a little kid again and I wished I could fix this as easily as I had fixed his broken toys back then.

 
Vi had followed Seth out into the hallway and she leaned against the wall, staring into space.

  “I don’t believe it,” she said.

  Mom called us back into the living room with demands to drink the cocoa while it was hot. She stopped fussing with the tray when she caught sight of our faces.

  “What is it?” she said.

  Mac cleared his throat. “There’s been an accident.”

  Mom crumpled onto the couch next to Dad.

  “When?” Dad asked. “Where?”

  “In Bailey Harbor, earlier tonight. I’m waiting for the details.” He waved his phone.

  “Who was in an accident?” Sophie asked.

  “They think it was Mom and Dad,” Seth said. “The car they borrowed from Clyde was found . . .”

  Sophie frowned and looked at each of us. “It isn’t them.”

  Vi put her arm around Sophie. “I know it’s hard to believe. But the car was definitely the one they were driving. It was found near a very bad boating accident.”

  Sophie began nodding even before Vi finished speaking. “I know that, but it isn’t them.”

  “Sophie, I’m so sorry. It had to be them,” I said. “It’s definitely my car.”

  Sophie put her hands on her hips, just like my mom would do. “Mom said this would happen. She said you wouldn’t believe it at first, but it isn’t them.”

  “Wait, tell me about the accident your mom warned you about,” I said.

  Sophie nodded. “She said we would all have to pretend. She said I had the most important job. I had to tell you all that it isn’t true.”

  I looked at Mac. He stepped back into the hall, his phone at his ear.

  “I just don’t know what to think,” Mom said as the tears trailed quietly down her cheeks.

  Seth looked like he might be sick and I was about to take him outside for some air when Mac came back in the room.

  “Sophie might be right,” he said. He smiled at her and she beamed adoringly at him.

  “What?” Mom dabbed at her eyes and turned toward Mac.

  “I just talked to the officer who responded to the call about the Tahoe,” Mac said. “He said he was at the marina at two o’clock this morning.”

 

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