*
Tom’s phone rang as he pulled up to the office. He knew it was Annie before he looked. He let it go to voicemail.
“How was the lake?” Bonnie asked when he entered the trailer. “Fish biting?”
“Caught a few, no trophies.” He took the cup of coffee she held out to him. “And how did you know we went to the cabin?”
“Julie called me Friday to make sure you hadn’t scheduled any appointments for the weekend.”
“Well, I’m glad I hadn’t. It was good to get away.”
“Looks like it did you good. But you’re going to earn your keep today. Two messages waiting when I got here.”
“Work is good.”
Bonnie handed him the messages she’d jotted down. He took his cup into his office and closed the door. After he returned the calls, he left his desk to make his first rounds of the site. He’d just stepped out of the trailer when someone called his name. A split-second after he started to turn toward the voice, he identified it.
“What are you doing here, Eddie?” He’d made sure his tone telegraphed his displeasure at seeing the creep, but Eddie’s smile didn’t waver.
“Oh, I was driving by and saw your sign. Just wanted to say good morning. It is a good morning, isn’t it? You had a relaxing weekend?”
Eddie spoke with quiet deliberation, a drone, actually.
“Yes. Look, I’m busy here. I was about to—”
“Sure. Sure. I won’t keep you. But I wanted you to know I’m glad you and Julie spent some time alone at the cabin. Last weekend, I saw evidence of the tension between you. I hope it’s not because you’ve been all work lately. Never neglect to play, Tom, that’s my advice. Never neglect to plaaay.”
Tom blinked. He nodded back to one of the carpenters as he drove by, but the movement was more automatic than conscious.
Eddie snapped his fingers. “Pay attention, Tom. I have something for you to ponder. Is it wise to leave your luscious daughter alone in that house—defenseless—when you run off to your little cabin?”
Tom blinked again, then glanced around him. Eddie was backing his Lexus out to turn around. Grinning, he rolled down his window and waved as he drove away.
Gradually, Tom became aware he stood outside the office, but he couldn’t remember whether he was headed in or out. He looked at the clipboard in his hand, nothing was checked off. He was on his way out, then.
After his rounds of the construction site, he returned to the office and dealt with a few more phone calls. Sometimes—most of the time—he missed the days when he was just one of the crew. He spent far too much time behind a desk and on the phone. The thought was barely formed before his phone rang again. He checked to make sure it wasn’t Annie before he answered.
“Hello, babe.”
“I wanted to let you know I didn’t go to work today,” Julie said.
“Are you sick?”
“No. I just felt like being lazy for another day. In fact, I don’t want to cook either, so I’m inviting you out to dinner tonight.”
“I’ll make sure I’m home before six. You want me to make the reservation?”
“Sure. Your choice.”
“Hey, I had a visit from Eddie this morning.”
“Eddie! Why?”
“Said he saw my sign and wanted to say hello. He asked about our weekend at the lake.”
“But … you must have misunderstood. I wanted to make sure Patricia wouldn’t interrupt our weekend, so I told her I was going to up to Warsaw to visit my aunt and uncle.”
“Hmm. Maybe I just thought he mentioned the lake. Listen, I have to go. I’ll make the reservation and see you later.”
He was positive he hadn’t made a mistake. Eddie had specifically mentioned time alone at the cabin. He’d also said something else, and that part was hazy, but Tom would bet his right hand Eddie knew exactly where he and Julie had spent the weekend.
13
June 14, part two
Today was Annie’s appointment with the psychic. Though she’d already paid online, she’d fought with herself about keeping it. Now, she and Kate sat in the driveway of a genuine Painted Lady. The two-story Victorian frame house, painted in shades of plum, mauve, and cream, had all its gingerbread intact. The wood-framed sign in the yard read PSYCHIC READINGS in matching shades.
Annie had pictured the psychic in an urban storefront, with a blue neon Hand of Fatima hanging out front. She’d been prepared for that, but discovering the psychic resided in this beautiful home somehow unnerved her. It added validity. Another wave of indecision washed over Annie, and she made no move to get out of the car.
“Come on.” Kate opened the passenger-side door. “You’re not backing out. I’ve got a feeling she’s going to tell you some good stuff.”
With one hand on the door handle and the other on the steering wheel, Annie calculated that Kate’s enthusiasm was in equal proportion to her reluctance. “Right now, I’m not so sure I want her to tell me anything. What if she just makes it all up, and I end up more confused than I already am?”
Kate walked around the car, opened Annie’s door, and pulled her out. “Go,” she commanded, giving her a push toward the house.
Hanging on the beveled glass door was another sign—MADAME DELUCA IS IN. PLEASE ENTER AND BE SEATED. They stepped into a small room, once a foyer, now a waiting room decorated in a combination New Age-Victorian theme. A half-dozen candles burned in fluted glass holders on lace-skirted tables while recorded harp music played softly in the background. Annie supposed these elements were meant to be pleasant and soothing, but her apprehension canceled out the desired effect.
Kate took a chair. Annie stood looking around the otherwise empty room. “The woman doesn’t seem to be popular, does she?” she asked Kate.
“Normally, I’m booked solid for weeks ahead,” a honeyed voice said.
Annie turned to find a petite woman with bouncy, blonde curls and merry eyes, dressed in a rose-colored nylon running suit.
“I came back from my vacation a few days early,” the woman said, “so I had no appointments scheduled for today.”
“You’re … the psychic?”
“I’m Donna DeLuca. The Madame DeLuca thing is my little joke. You were expecting someone more exotic?”
“No. Well … maybe.” Annie had been expecting someone a lot more exotic. Someone who spoke with an accent. Someone surrounded by an aura. She surprised herself by blurting, “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
Donna glanced briefly at Kate, then gazed at Annie silently. After a moment, she stepped across the room, took Annie’s hand in hers, and smiled warmly. “Yes, you do.”
She led Annie toward an adjoining room. Before she passed through the doorway, Annie, hoping for a reprieve, looked back at her sister. Kate only gave her a big smile and shooed her on.
Heavy, dark blue drapes were drawn over the windows in the next room, leaving candlelight as the only source of illumination. In every other way, this was an ordinary dining room in Donna DeLuca’s ordinary home. Framed photos of several children, probably the DeLuca children and grandchildren, hung on the walls and sat atop the buffet among the candles.
Donna motioned Annie to sit at the long, oval table and then took the chair opposite hers. The psychic reached for her hand again. She prepared herself for a palm reading, but the woman only held it lightly between both her own hands, closed her eyes, and took several deep breaths. She said nothing. During the silence, Annie’s sense of foolishness grew, and she gave herself permission to leave if Donna started moaning or chanting.
Annie felt a slight tingle in the hand held by the psychic and a sort of push in the back of her mind. At that moment, she realized it was the same sensation she’d felt but not consciously registered, every time one of the visions began.
Abruptly, Donna let go of Annie’s hand and opened her eyes. Sitting back in her chair, again she observed her through narrowed eyes. “There is a man in your life … you are in love w
ith him. He’s not free to be with you … and yet, you believe you are meant to be together.”
This is how they do it—bait you with possibilities and watch your reactions. Nevertheless, she began to make a mental grocery list, hoping to block any further probing of her mind.
“You have lived a previous life with this man,” Donna said. “You see glimpses of that life. So does he, but he doesn’t understand what it’s all about.”
“I don’t understand it either,” Annie said and then clapped a hand over her mouth. For the second time in less than five minutes, her mouth had betrayed her.
Donna continued speaking slowly, as much to herself as to Annie. “No. No, you don’t understand. This is a strange case, very interesting.”
Strange case of what? This was crazy; the whole thing was crazy. She started to push back her chair to leave, but the next words Donna spoke stopped her.
“You lost your little baby. Your husband murdered it.” Donna looked straight into her eyes.
Annie’s earlier vision of the drowning had started with the baby already in the water, but Donna’s statement caused the scene to flash before her again.
Maggie sits in the canoe, her precious black-haired baby cuddled in her arms. The old man looms over them, his face turned away. In one swift move, he drops the paddle, snatches the baby in his right hand, and holds her back with his left. A scream rips from the depths of her soul, and she reaches for her child—scrabbles for him. Her terror robs her of speech yet the sounds sputtering from her lips are an unmistakable plea for mercy.
He turns, cold eyes glinting, to watch her face as he extends his arm over the water—and drops the tiny bundle. Maggie struggles against his grip, kicking and clawing at him. Shouting with triumph, he backhands her with his now hideously empty right hand. She crumples. He sits back, grabs the paddle, and begins his stroke.
Uttering a cry more feral than human, Maggie leaps into the river.
Eyes wide with the horror she’d witnessed, Annie covered her face with both hands. “You can’t know that. Are you reading my mind? I don’t need you to tell me what’s in my own mind. I don’t need you messing with my head!”
She jumped to her feet and staggered back from the table, thrashing her head from side to side as though the vehemence of her denial could shake the vision from her memory.
“Sometimes we need someone to make us realize what we already know,” Donna said calmly. “Sometimes that gives us the courage to face it ourselves.”
Annie froze for a moment, considering the woman’s words. Then, she stepped forward and collapsed into her chair with a sigh.
“Who was the man that drowned my baby?” she asked. “It wasn’t Jacob.”
“No,” Donna said. “Jacob was the baby’s father, but he wasn’t the man who murdered it.”
“Then who?”
“Your husband.”
Surprise silenced Annie for a moment. “Oh, God. I was married to him?” She tried to recall more evidence of that from the previous visions. Nothing. “But … even if that horrible man was my husband, that has nothing to do with now.”
“These visions have everything to do with now. Be open to this, Annie. Don’t keep blocking it. You’re letting your past confuse your judgment of the present. Let me tell you what I see around you.
“There are many people involved in what you are experiencing. It’s hard for me to see one without the shadow of another. I see a man, this Jacob you spoke of. He’s with a woman. Mattie? No … no, her name is Maggie. Jacob traveled … um … for some reason. He wasn’t always with Maggie. He loved her … he was a good man. He …um … lost? I don’t know … lost something. And there is another man here, much older, a malevolent man. Not a man?”
“That’s who I saw,” Anne said, “the one who killed my baby.”
Donna paused with fingers pressed against her mouth as though reluctant to speak another word about him. After a moment, she resumed her reading.
“He was powerful, wealthy, and for this he had the respect of others … no … fear, not respect. Most feared him. But Jacob did not. Ah, I see. I see. This evil man was Maggie’s husband and she feared him … oh, yes. So much fear. And hatred. Somehow …” Donna paused for a moment, then shook her head. “I can’t see how … but this man cheated Jacob, and Jacob challenged him on it. Is that when your husband killed him? I can’t see this situation clearly. In some way, Maggie was involved … she was cheated too maybe? I’m trying to get the name of her husband. Ben? Ben something? His spirit is so dark, and strong … very strong … and around you still today.”
It was almost as though Annie were hearing the words in her head a second before Donna spoke them, which gave the effect the psychic was only confirming everything she already knew.
Taking Annie’s hand in hers again, Donna said, “You already know some of this, and will know more. Your spirit—Maggie’s spirit—is trying to reveal it to you. Stop fighting. Just let it come. You need to understand why these things are happening to you. You have choices to make … and danger to avoid. It’s not too late to make the right choice … this time.”
Donna stood abruptly, and Annie realized the session was over.
“But—”
“No. Don’t ask me. You have to find these answers yourself.” With an arm around Annie’s shoulders, Donna guided her toward the door into the waiting room. “I will tell you only one more thing. It will help you to understand why Maggie has come to you.”
“Because of Tom?”
Donna shook her head and then hesitated, heightening the effect of her words. “The woman who came with you today was once Maggie’s infant son.”
Annie gasped so sharply that she stumbled. Without another word, Donna turned, disappearing into another room of her home. Annie fled through the waiting room and out the front door. Kate was beside her before they reached the car.
“I heard you yelling,” Kate said. “What happened?”
Annie didn’t respond. She started the car, barely giving Kate enough time to get in and shut her door, before she backed down the driveway.
“Tell me what she said that upset you.”
“Nothing!”
*
They rode in silence, and were halfway home before Annie regained her calm. A rumbling in her stomach reminded her it was supper time. To make up for refusing to talk to her, Annie detoured to Kate’s favorite Italian restaurant. Smiling, Annie reached over to pat Kate’s hand.
“I hope you’re hungry because I’m starving.”
Never one to keep quiet long, Kate couldn’t ask questions fast enough as they crossed the parking lot. “What did she say to upset you so much? Why were you yelling at her? Are you going to tell me what she said?”
Annie refused to reply to any of these until they were seated. “She told me I needed to find my own answers.”
Kate’s mouth dropped open. “You mean she didn’t give you a reading?”
“Yes. I mean, no. She only tells you what’s in your own head … or spirit … or something. She told me I could know more if I quit blocking it.”
“Hmm,” Kate said, puzzled. “I don’t think she does it that way with Sherry. I mean, Sherry tells me specific things the psychic told her.”
They paused until the waitress took their order and walked away. Annie picked up the conversation.
“She told me a few specific things too, but I knew them already. Most of them.”
Kate mimed pulling her hair out. “Tell me exactly what she told you.”
“She told me Jacob and Maggie weren’t married. Maggie was married to some evil old man. Can you believe that?”
“Wow. So when you were Jacob and Maggie you two had an affair just like—”
The waitress, serving their salads, interrupted Kate, but Annie had mentally finished the sentence and shot Kate a hard look. “It was my husband who killed Jacob,” she said after the waitress had gone.
“And what did he do to you?” Kate asked.<
br />
Annie took a bite of her salad, chewing while she decided how much to tell Kate about her previous life.
“I guess he didn’t do anything to me directly. At least, I don’t remember that.”
“Directly?”
Annie searched Kate’s face for any sign she might know the rest, might remember her brief past life. How could she? “My evil husband murdered my baby.”
“Omygawd.”
“He threw him in the river.” Annie pushed her salad plate aside. “Right in front of me.”
“Why would he drown his own child?”
“I think the baby was mine and Jacob’s. That’s the way he punished me, I guess.”
“How could someone be so cruel to do that to an innocent baby?” Tears welled in Kate’s eyes. “What did you do then?”
“He held me back at first, but when he let me go, I jumped in after the baby. I died too.”
“You both drowned.” Kate grew quiet for a moment, and then her eyes widened. “It was like the baby took you with him, so the two of you could be together with Jacob.”
Kate’s words chilled Annie, but she tried not to read too much into them. Surely, Kate didn’t know she’d been that infant.
“That husband in your past life reminds me of Gary … self-centered and cruel,” Kate said. She paused while the waitress served their entrées. “Hey,” she continued, “do you think Gary was the reincarnation of your past husband?”
Annie had ordered fettuccine Alfredo. Although she couldn’t resist it, the noodles came smothered in a sauce so rich it almost made her queasy. But tonight it wasn’t the pasta making Annie feel sick, it was the question Kate had asked. Just because she and Tom, and maybe Kate, were reborn, it couldn’t mean that everyone in her present life had also been in her past life. Because she was an abused wife in a past life, did that mean she deserved the same fate in this one? That’s not how karma worked, was it?
“Earth to Annie.”
Forever Page 12
