by Lotta Smith
“Do you know what it really means to be exorcised?” Brian asked.
“When I’m exorcised, I can go to a better place and reunite with my parents—I mean, Mama and Papa—right?” Marion said. Her tone was calm, and her cheeks were rosy with an abashed smile as she said “Mama and Papa.” “I’ve been stuck in this world for way too long, witnessing too many people ending up with a tragic fate. I don’t want to be a part of anyone’s misery anymore.”
“Marion, do you have anything you wish to tell us before leaving?”
“Well… I’ve been stuck in this world for over a hundred years, so I think I’m good to go. Anyway, I’m wishing to rest in peace with Mama and Papa,” she said. “Please send me to a better place.”
I glanced at Brian, who was nodding to Marion’s words. “Sounds great,” he said.
“Wait a minute,” Rick chimed in. “Okay, so Marion’s made up her mind to depart this world for good to join her folks in a better place. That’s good. I respect her decision. Then again, I need to ask her a few more questions before saying goodbye. Where is she?”
“She’s here.” I showed where Marion was standing with the palm of my hand.
“Okay, Marion.” He turned to the direction I indicated. “You said having the ring’s evil spirits suppressed cleared your head. Can you do me one last favor and try to recall something, anything about the person who owned you before you came to live with Mrs. Miller?”
“Oh… now I remember!” She cupped her face with her delicate hands. “My previous owner was a girl named Vixen. She’s the most avant-garde girl I’ve ever known. She used to have her naturally blonde hair dyed in rainbow colors. I wanted to hang around with her more, but she sold me to my next owner.”
“Where did Vixen live?” Rick pressed on, but Marion shook her head slowly.
“Not too far from this town, but I can’t give you an address. I wasn’t paying much attention,” she said apologetically, then approached Brian. “Now could you please send me to a better place?”
“All right. As you wish,” Brian whispered and turned to Rick. “She really wants to go. If I were you, I’d help her move to a new place before she changes her mind.”
“Still—” Rick didn’t look happy, so I touched his arm.
“Hey, I’ll try reading the ring’s memory. Please, let her go,” I pleaded.
He took a deep breath and nodded. “Fine. Let her go.” Though he said these words through gritted teeth, he had the decency to turn in the direction of Marion, thanking the ghost for her cooperation and wishing her a safe trip.
Brian stood up. Using the wand and human-shaped white paper soaked in holy water, he performed the purification process.
“Thank you everyone! I’m so glad to have met you.” Waving her hands, Marion waltzed out into thin air. According to Brian, he did little to nothing to send her away, as the ghost was more than eager to go.
Immediately after Marion left, Agent Woo’s phone rang. “Hello. Yes, it’s Woo. Excuse me? Did she? May I possibly pay a visit to her? She can talk—are you sure? I appreciate the heads-up.” After hanging up, he turned to us. “It was the hospital. Mrs. Miller woke up an hour ago, and she’s willing to talk to us.”
“What a coincidence,” Rick muttered.
“Hello? You think it’s a coincidence?” Brian countered. “I’d prefer to call it art. Thanks to my super-duper work of exorcism, the spirits tormenting Mrs. Miller have disappeared and—”
The exorcist went on, but Agent Woo raised his index finger, asking for silence.
“Hello, Mrs. Miller. I’m Special Agent Woo with the White-Collar Crime Unit with the FBI. Right, I was hoping to ask you a few questions about the ring you were wearing on the night you were found collapsed on the street.” Agent Woo put the phone on speakerphone.
“Oh, the sapphire ring?” Mrs. Miller said. Her voice sounded so clear and stable for someone who’d been unconscious until just an hour ago. “Where I purchased it? Actually, I didn’t purchase it myself. It’s a keepsake from Belinda, my sister who passed away last year. Belinda used to tell me over and over about how she found this girl with rainbow hair at Chelsea Market, and how she fell in love with the antique sapphire ring the girl was selling. I believe my sister purchased it about three years ago.”
“That’s Vixen!” Rick and I said in unison.
“Vix… excuse me?” Mrs. Miller asked, sounding somewhat confused.
“Do you happen to still have a receipt?” Agent Woo asked. His expression was unreadable, but he didn’t seem to be holding many expectations when he asked that question.
“Yes,” Mrs. Miller answered quickly. “My sister was such a big keeper of receipts, and as a memento, I’ve kept the receipt in the bottom of the jewelry box. By the way, why does the FBI want to know about the ring?”
While Agent Woo explained about the ring and its history, Brian looked at Rick and then at me, saying, “Hey, you can thank me now.”
CHAPTER 11
The information about Vixen turned out to be extremely helpful for the ring robbery investigation. In fact, learning about Vixen literally pushed the investigation to a roll and wrap up.
Mrs. Miller was very cooperative, even going so far as calling her daughter to help the FBI agents find the little box she used to stash the ring. Within an hour of Agent Woo’s conversation with Mrs. Miller, the box containing the ring’s receipt was brought downtown. After that, thanks to the vendor registration system of Chelsea Market, tracking Vixen, a.k.a. Victoria Ficca, was a piece of cake.
According to Agent Woo, Vixen’s signature rainbow hair had turned into bright red hair. When the agents showed her the photo of the stolen ring and asked how she came across it, she told them that she used to work at a topless bar until six months ago, and one of the regular customers gave her the ring when he took one too many drinks. Also, she testified that while she was selling her artwork at the market, one of the customers offered to purchase all of the artwork in the shop if she could have the ring as a free gift, which Vixen gladly accepted.
Following the lead originating from Vixen, Brad Somarhalder had been arrested by the end of the day. The reason the FBI could find Somarhalder so easily was because he always paid at the bar with his credit card. Following his arrest, the agents were able to make a wholesale arrest of the Purple Panther’s U.S. sect.
According to Agent Woo, it used to be the Purple Panther’s protocol to immediately disassemble the stolen jewelry and send the parts to Europe to fence, and Somarhalder had never broken the code before. But for some reason that even Somarhalder himself couldn’t explain, he gave the ring to Vixen, his favorite girl at the bar. Agent Woo said the guy seemed to regret his action but was clueless why he did it—perhaps the ring had something to do with Somarhalder’s actions.
* * *
Five days later, Rick and I were visiting the Millers’ condo in the Upper East Side. The building’s exterior was decorated with white marble tiles, and it had a gallery selling high-end abstract paintings and sculptures.
“Hmm… Marion wasn’t lying about the building’s description in the first place,” Rick commented, looking up at the midrise condo.
“Ooh… I feel terrible about calling her a liar.” Jackie squirmed by my side.
“No worries. She didn’t seem to be shocked by your comments. By the way, she said she was sorry about calling you names,” I said.
“Okay then, so we’re even.” Jackie smiled. “By the way, Mandy, I love your purse.”
“Why, thank you!” I cooed. Indeed, I was in love with the denim handbag with adorable fringe.
“If only I could touch it!” The ghost moved her hands as if she were attempting to stroke the leather handles on my arm. “You know, I loved Fendi when I was alive. Ooh… the lovely scent of Italian leather.”
As I tried sniffing my purse, Rick patted my shoulder. “Hey, what are you doing?”
“Jackie says she loves the look and scent of my new purse, and I�
�m testing how it smells,” I replied, taking in the purse aroma. “Hmm, I guess she’s right. It smells… divine.”
“Of course, it should smell divine. I’d be annoyed if it smelled like a piece of crap considering it cost a small fortune. You’re welcome,” he said with a wide grin. Obviously, he was requesting an expression of gratitude on my part.
“Thanks again,” I said, planting a light peck on his cheek.
The night after my purse was damaged, the brand-new purse was sitting by my bedside like it was Christmas morning. It was a gift and bribe from him. Despite somewhat reaching a mutual agreement about the size of our wedding and Alice’s involvement with its planning, he attempted to renegotiate these topics by using the beautiful purse as an enticing carrot.
“I’m glad you like it. By the way, how does it sound if we expanded our list up to four hundred?”
“Hello?” I said. “We reached an agreement about the guest size. Fifty is the best number—perhaps a hundred, maybe.”
“Still, Mandy….” He furrowed his eyebrows, then took a deep breath and sucked it up. “Let’s go inside and meet Mrs. Miller.”
The Millers’ residence was located on the penthouse floor. When Rick rang the doorbell, a young woman, probably in her early thirties, in a stylish wrap dress answered the door.
“Hello, I was looking forward to meeting you guys,” she said with a gentle smile. “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Allison Miller, the daughter of the Millers. Thank you so much for saving my mom and dad.” Allison shook each of our hands. According to her, she was living in Long Island with her husband, but her husband was out of town for a business trip and she decided to move back for a while to help her mother around the house until she had fully recovered. Chattering in a happy tone, she led us into the salon decorated with a sophisticated interior.
A lady in a floral-print Carolina Herrera dress stood up to greet us. “Thank you so much for coming. I’m Emily Miller, the woman found on the street looking like a zombie.”
“Hello, I’m Special Agent in Charge Rowling, and the lady here is Ms. Meyer, my assistant.”
As Rick made a brief introduction, Mrs. Miller led us to the table.
I was surprised to see her walking without a cane or stick. The initial information we had about her was that she was a frail old lady with bad knees, but she was looking much better than I’d expected. Her gait was steady and strong. Also, her cheeks were rosy and her vivaciousness was palpable, making it almost impossible to look at her as someone who had been hospitalized until a few days ago.
When we were seated and Allison brought us iced tea and petit fours, Rick put the ring in a zipped plastic bag on the table. “So, this is the ring you had on the night you were found.”
Mrs. Miller gasped. “I heard it was a stolen object. May I really have it? Shouldn’t it be returned to its lawful owner?”
“Actually, the person who was robbed of this ring declined to have it back,” Rick informed her.
When Agent Woo contacted the owner of the jewelry boutique where the ring was stolen from, the owner said he didn’t want it back even though his insurance policy didn’t have a clause about the stolen object being turned in to the insurance company in the rare case it had been recovered. According to the jewelry shop owner, his only daughter’s leukemia went into remission, followed by a full recovery, and he won a moderately large sum of money in a lottery—and everything happened soon after the robbery. He also claimed that the unexplainable worries and depressed feelings he had seemed to have evaporated as soon as he lost the ring, so he didn’t want to have it anymore.
“Are you sure?” Mrs. Miller’s eyes widened. “That’s so incredible. I got a call this morning from the hospital. Morris, my husband, has been recovering very nicely, and he’ll be coming back home tomorrow.”
“That sounds wonderful,” I said, and I meant it. Sending Marion and the rest of the spirits that used to haunt the ring to a better place seemed to be working nicely. In my mind, I had already attributed Mrs. Miller’s seemingly improved health to Brian’s exorcism.
“By the way, can you recall the night you collapsed on the street?” Rick asked.
“Well….” Mrs. Miller tilted her head to the side. “In retrospect, I think I had a weird dream. It was late at night, and I was in bed. I think I was fast asleep, and everything I thought I experienced shouldn’t have been real. Anyway, in my strange but impossibly vivid dream, I heard Allison weeping. And between her hiccups and sobs, she kept on saying, ‘Mom, please come and help me…. Mom, I’m here….’ I know this sounds crazy. As you’ve already seen her, my daughter isn’t a little helpless girl, but in my dream, I saw my daughter as a toddler in desperate need of my help, so I got up and went out in my pajamas. I can’t believe I sleepwalked. I think I was overly tired, perhaps. Before that night, I wasn’t sleeping well for a couple of days. Anyway, at that time, I thought I had to go and rescue my little Allison.”
She seemed to believe that the series of events were purely the result of sleep deprivation, but I didn’t think so. Considering that Marion kept duping me by mimicking other people’s voices, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to assume that the ghost of the ring imitated the little girl version of Allison.
As Rick and I exchanged glances, Mrs. Miller stroked the ring fondly. “Oh my goodness, I’m so glad to have it back. I always felt this ring was my lucky charm.”
“Excuse me? Lucky charm?” I blurted.
“Oh yes.” Mrs. Miller smiled blissfully. “Morris has been such a playboy, always flirting with other women. Actually, he used to have affairs going on with not just one woman, but sometimes several—all at once.”
“Oh.” It was my turn to widen my eyes.
“Belinda passed away and the ring came to me, and a week later, Morris had a car wreck. He’d recovered nicely, but about a month later, he had a stroke, and after that, he’d been bedridden.”
“Excuse me, Mrs. Miller. How could that be described as lucky?” Rick asked.
“That’s because finally, I was able to have Morris all to myself.” The elegant old lady giggled like a schoolgirl, but her words were cringeworthy. “When he has to stay in bed all the time, he can’t have an affair, can he? I might sound like a cruel woman, but that’s not the case. I’m genuinely happy that I can spend my time with my husband without the fear of having interruptions anymore. I feel almost euphoric about looking after him. You know, Allison says it’s just a coincidence, but I can’t help thinking that everything happened because of the ring working its magic.”
“Wow,” I muttered, because I couldn’t find another word.
“Mandy.” Rick touched my hand and looked into my eyes. “I’ll never have an affair with another woman. I swear. So, don’t hex me into a bedridden patient.”
His tone was casual, but his mesmerizing green eyes were serious.
Looking into his somber face, I snorted.
“What?” He raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing,” I said, still chuckling. “Don’t worry. I won’t hex you into sickness. I’d appreciate it more if you were well enough to help me around the house. Such as changing the lightbulbs, rather than you spending years and years in bed.”
“That’s good. I’m relieved.”
“Not to mention, I’m not keen on listening to your constant whining for years and years,” I added.
“Hey, why are you talking about the worst-case scenario with a fixed proposition that I’ll whine?” he protested.
“Because you’ll certainly whine when you have to stay in bed all the time,” I said.
“Right, Mandy has a point.” Jackie popped up by my side and nodded in agreement.
“For your information, I’m not a whiner. I’ve never whined.” He crossed his arms. “I didn’t whine when I was in bed with a broken leg, right?”
“You think so?” I said, attempting to wiggle my eyebrows. “When I talked to Jackie, she seemed to agree with me.�
� Even though Jackie was right there, I purposefully used the past tense because we were in front of someone who didn’t know the ghost of a drag queen.
“Come on. Seriously!” He let out an exasperated sigh.
Mrs. Miller cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but are you two going to tie the knot or something?” As she asked this, her hazel eyes twinkled with curiosity.
“Actually, yes.” Rick nodded. “We’re hoping to tie the knot very soon.”
“Assuming we’ll be able to agree on the size of the wedding.” As I muttered under my breath, Mrs. Miller stretched out her hand to me, offering the ring.
“Ms. Meyer, I think you’ll want to put the ring on,” she said earnestly. “Whenever I wear this, it gives me some fuzzy feelings, but I always end up feeling so happy.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, mostly because I thought we had a serious misunderstanding about the ring.
“Of course, I’m sure.” She nodded, placing the ring onto the palm of my hand. “Please try it on.”
“But….” I fumbled with my words. Thanks to the information provided by Marion, the case wrapped up almost on itself and I didn’t need to put the ring on in an attempt to read its residual memories. I knew Brian had exorcised the ring and it was completely free of the congregated grudges and hatred, but still….
“Sounds fun. You should try it on.” Rick nudged my elbow, flashing a devilish smile. “I have a hunch you’ll love it.”
“Still….”
“No worries. In case of an emergency, I can call Brian.” Rick winked.
“Please help yourself.” Mrs. Miller was all smiles. “I think the blue sapphire will compliment your hand. Look at your skin. So smooth and radiant.”
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Miller. Okay, so I’m trying it on,” I mumbled, making a mental note to remove the ring as soon as possible. Rick seemed to be getting back at me for previously pointing out his grumbling, so I was determined to brave my way with the ring.
When I put it on my finger, I gasped, a jolt of electricity going through my whole body.
