Young Ladies of Mystery Boxed Set

by Stacy Juba

  Mrs. Caldwell gave an approving nod. "How interesting. That's where Vicky had her summer job. She had lots of nice things to say about your stepfather." She paused as Candace trailed her sister downstairs. Vicky slipped out the front door, ignoring everyone.

  "I was just getting acquainted with your friends," Mrs. Caldwell told Candace. "You should have invited them over a long time ago."

  "Why? So you could give them the third degree?" Candace motioned toward Dawn and Jamie, her posture rigid and face expressionless. "Come on, we’re going to the gatehouse."

  "You practically live in that gatehouse," her mother said. "What do you do in there all day?"

  "Nothing you'd care about," Candace said, pulling open the door.

  She shepherded her friends outside where Vicky was hugging her knees on the porch steps. Dawn forced a smile, but Vicky turned away.

  Candace stalked toward the gatehouse, leaving her friends rushing to keep up. Dawn couldn’t stop thinking about Vicky’s strange behavior. For whatever reason, she didn’t like Dawn hanging around her sister, but it wasn’t like her to be rude.

  "You're not mad we came, are you?" Jamie asked Candace. "Dawn said we shouldn't, but I thought you could use a little fun."

  "It's better this way. Now you know what I have to put up with." Candace unlocked the door.

  "But, your mom seems nice," Jamie said.

  "Nice?" Candace rolled her eyes. "She’s a total phony. If she knew you lived in a trailer, believe me, she wouldn’t be so ‘nice.’ Come on in, I’ll give you guys a tour."

  As they entered, Dawn shivered at the refrigerator coldness. Candace switched on the light and cranked the heat.

  "The old owners had this built fifty years ago for their housekeeper. When my grandparents visit, they sleep here, but they don’t come that often."

  Candace ushered them through the two upstairs bedrooms, downstairs living room and state-of-the-art kitchen. Impressive oil paintings hung on the walls and glass knickknacks sparkled in curio cases. Dawn couldn’t believe Candace’s "gatehouse" was almost the size of Jeff's house.

  They stayed in a dark-paneled study. Black candles and crystals of assorted colors and sizes were spread across the open roll-top desk. Books on ESP, reincarnation, dreams and other metaphysical subjects overflowed dark pine shelves. Dawn examined a trio of pyramid-shaped red, green and blue candles.

  "Those all have gem stones embedded inside," Candace said. "You remove the gem as the candles burn down. Pretty cool, huh? My mother would freak if I put anything ‘tacky’ like that in the house, but she hardly ever comes in here. Victoria doesn’t use this place anymore either, so I have it all to myself."

  Candace settled onto a leather couch and opened the box of fudge. She offered pieces to Dawn and Jamie, who joined her on either side.

  "Vicky seemed nervous," Dawn said. "Does she know about Serina?"

  "Nope, but she knows I'm into that stuff, and she must figure you guys are, too. Maybe she thinks we'll gang up on her. It's kind of funny how freaked she gets. She used to think my ESP was neat. We’d play all kinds of games."

  "Really? Like what?" Dawn asked.

  Candace finished her fudge, chocolate darkening the corners of her mouth. "She used to make me guess what flashcard she was holding, or we’d stand in the Center and I’d guess what color car would stop at the next red light. If I got ten right, she’d have to buy me ice cream. When my mother’s friends were coming over, I’d guess what they’d be wearing. Vicky wanted me to teach her how to guess like that, but I didn't know how." She hesitated. "I would have, you know. If I could."

  So Candace used to call her sister Vicky. It was only lately that she had been crowned Queen Victoria. As Candace talked, her tone had a disbelieving note, as if she were describing two other sisters.

  "Why did you drift apart?" Jamie asked.

  "She went to high school and was afraid I’d embarrass her in front of her precious friends. When she saw me reading up on ESP, she'd get upset and tell me how weird I was."

  "I'm sure she didn't mean it," Dawn said.

  For the first time, she glimpsed hurt rather than hatred when Candace spoke of her sister.

  "She meant it. She used to be the only one I could talk to about this stuff." Candace sounded grim again. "But it doesn't matter anymore. I've got Serina."

  "She's not your family, though," Dawn said.

  Candace pointed a remote control at a glassed-in entertainment center. Alternative rock music snapped on from the stereo. "Yeah, she is. She's my mother and big sister rolled into one. Don’t you get it? We're all each other needs. Us and Serina. Nobody else matters."

  Jamie nodded, examining a tower of Candace’s CDs and DVDs. "We’re like a family."

  Dawn got up and feigned interest in Candace’s library of books. Serina had won their trust so easily. She had done so much for them. For her. Without Serina, Dawn would have no idea what her premonitions meant, no inkling that she could control them. She shuddered in her denim jacket. Maybe Jamie and Candace were right.

  If Serina hadn’t adopted them, they’d all be alone.

  ***

  The following afternoon, Serina served thick wedges of devil's food cake, chocolate chips sprinkling the mocha fudge frosting. It wasn't good for Jamie's skin or Candace's waistline. Dawn's mind jumped to the fairy tale Hansel and Gretel, and the witch who fattened up children to eat them. She instantly felt guilty for the absurd thought. Serina was just giving them a treat, and it tasted darn good.

  Candace, who was seated beside her on the loveseat, finished her second helping. She pressed her back against the wall and stretched out her legs. "Jamie and Dawn have been to the castle. They know what a phony my mother is."

  Mrs. Caldwell hadn’t seemed that bad, but Dawn kept her opinion to herself.

  Serina's long locks gleamed in the candlelight, more golden than whitish. She poured a mug of apple cider and handed it to Jamie, then placed the jug onto a silver platter on the table. She remained standing, her shadow dominating the dimly lit wall. "Now you see what you all have in common. You can't count on your families. Only on each other."

  Dawn stirred. How had the conversation jumped from Candace complaining about her mother, to Serina criticizing all their families?

  "What do you mean?" Dawn asked. "You don’t think I can count on my mother?"

  "Hasn't she uprooted you from the only life you've known? Hasn't she put her new husband before her daughter?"

  "She didn't see it that way. She thought a change would be good for both of us. Jeff was sure I'd like living in Maine. They were right, I do like it."

  Serina towered over her, arms crossed against her sweater. "Don't be naive, Dawn. Life is better here only because of us. Jeff doesn't care about you. He cares about himself, his son, and his wife. You're part of the package."

  Anger rose up in Dawn's chest, lodging in her throat. Serina had never even met her mother and Jeff. Dawn told herself to let it slide, but as the silence dragged on, she couldn't stay quiet.

  "Look, Serina, I respect you a lot, but you won't turn me against my family," Dawn said, focusing on Serina’s neck to avoid eye contact. "It’s not fair of you to try."

  Jamie gasped and raised her mug to her lips. Candace regarded Dawn with cold speculation.

  "I'm just making an observation," Serina said. "Your mother lets your stepfather control her. He's where her loyalty lies."

  "She’s not controlled," Dawn said. "They're happy together. Jeff and Ken would never hurt me and I know my mother loves me. I do have a family."

  Serina's jaw clenched. The foreboding that overwhelmed Dawn the first day she drove by the cottage raced back. None of them had ever crossed Serina.

  "Of course your mother loves you, but does she understand you? Does she help you try to understand yourself?" Serina's forehead smoothed, the harsh lines receding.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Have you ever asked yourself why the third eye is so ingrained in
you?"

  Dawn found herself nodding. "Of course."

  "Most people of your skill level have inherited it. Some have the talent in their genes, while others receive it as a gift from a loved one who has passed on."

  "No one in my family has it," Candace said.

  "I'll bet some distant relative did, maybe a great-grandfather you never met," Serina said. "Perhaps you're the only one in the last couple of generations to inherit it. I got it the other way, from my Aunt Serina, who died of cancer."

  Jamie almost knocked over her cider. She steadied the mug, her hands shaking. "You mean she passed it on to you after she died? How?"

  "I won't fully understand until I cross to the other side myself," Serina said. "But my aunt knew she was dying and promised me her gift. Her daughter was already a powerful psychic and didn’t need it. A few days after her funeral, I realized my aunt had been successful in bestowing her gift."

  "You never told me that," Candace said. "You must have been named after her."

  "I was eight when she died, but when I got older, I trained with her friends. Dawn, you should investigate where your gifts came from. Your mother may know more than you think."

  "She wouldn't keep it a secret," Dawn said, but she wondered. Her mother had proven she harbored secrets. What was one more?

  Serina. Dawn had never met anyone who would say the helpful and the hurtful to reach the truth. Sometimes, she found it refreshing, while other times it felt uncomfortable.

  "If your mother does know where you got your abilities, I'm sure she has good reason for hiding it," Serina said.

  "I wish ESP ran in my family," Jamie said with a sigh. "That would make things a lot easier."

  "It can be hard without natural talent, although it is possible," Serina replied. "Very possible, in fact. What would you do if you had the gift?"

  Jamie’s chin jutted up. "I’d find out what the kids at school are thinking and make myself more popular."

  "After how they've humiliated you?" Serina asked. "You don't need people like that as friends."

  "What else should I do?"

  "Get even," Serina said.

  "How?"

  "You could use their darkest thoughts against them. That's only the beginning."

  Dawn frowned and reached for her jacket on the floor. Goosebumps prickled on her arms. She longed to go home and read her English assignment at the kitchen table as her mother or Jeff cooked dinner. Suddenly, Dawn wanted nothing more than to forget her psychic training and retreat to the safety of her house.

  For the next few minutes, Serina talked about how while in a meditative state, Jamie should mentally picture herself as she wanted to look and imagine other people treating her with respect. It didn’t sound like frightening advice, and there was no more mention of dark thoughts, but Dawn still couldn’t wait to leave.

  After the lesson ended, Serina placed a firm hand on Dawn’s arm. "Stay. I need to talk to you."

  Dawn's pulse beat harder as Serina led her over to the corner table.

  "We’ll wait for you outside," Candace said with an odd smile. "Come on, Jamie."

  Reluctantly, Dawn sank onto a chair.

  "Sorry if I upset you," Serina said, sitting across from her. "Your skills impress me, and I want you to realize how special you are. You're ready to try something more advanced."

  "Advanced?"

  "Mind control, the highest plane to which you can take your talent. The ability to make someone act at your will. I know this will seem frightening, but there are so many positive benefits. You can do good in the world by mastering this power."

  Dawn rubbed a tightening knot in her forehead as exhaustion seesawed over her. She must need a nap. Serina’s words made no sense. "Did you say, make someone act at your will?"

  "That’s right."

  "That’s not possible."

  "Anything is possible, Dawn."

  "But why would you want to do that? You'd be stealing away people's freedom."

  Serina drummed her fingers on the table, never taking her gaze off Dawn. "What if a car was speeding toward a young child? Or to an innocent motorist like your father? Wouldn't you want to direct the driver in another direction? What if you're walking late at night and hear footsteps? Don't you want to protect yourself? But before you can rely on your skill in times of need, you have to practice with every day actions."

  Dawn's heart fluttered. She felt guilty enough when her abilities warned her about a pop quiz. Controlling people’s minds, sounded morally wrong. Or was it? If she could use the technique to help people, how could it be wrong?

  "Don’t let fear hold you back," Serina said. "Isn’t it scarier to be vulnerable and at other people’s mercy?"

  "Are you sure I can do it?"

  The dim light and Serina's dark red lipstick made her smile strangely twisted, a cross between a wise old lady and a mischievous child. "We'll just have to find out, won't we?"

  Chapter Eleven

  Dawn couldn’t find anything on the Internet about mind control, barring references to sci-fi movies and government conspiracies, but she discovered an interesting web site about crystals. She squinted at her computer screen and reread a couple lines: "It is possible to program a vibration into a crystal. Those who possess one that has been in other hands should take the time to cleanse it as the vibration trapped inside can be undesirable."

  That sounded corny. How could a gem be bad for you? Dawn started to read about cleansing the crystals in sea salt, but a rap at the door interrupted her thoughts. She brought up a Word document of her English term paper.

  Her mother strolled into the room in a pair of pink satin pajamas and tousled Dawn's bangs, her own hair slightly damp and smelling of flowery shampoo. "Are your friends coming Sunday?"

  "Yup."

  Unfortunately. Dawn tried to stop worrying. The evening would go fine. Candace and Jamie weren’t like most girls their age, but they could handle a simple dinner. She hoped.

  "I know you got off to a rocky start, but you seem happier lately," her mother said. "I was sure this move would be good for you if you could relax and open yourself up to friendship. That’s all I wanted for you, not to be lonely."

  As if a simple move could make her life easier. A question turned over and over in Dawn’s mind. Where had she gotten her psychic abilities? She didn’t bother asking. Her mother would just answer, "What does it matter? I thought you were putting all that stuff behind you."

  "I have to finish my homework, Mom," she said.

  Her mother kissed her cheek. "I’m proud of you, honey. You’re adjusting so well."

  If her mother only knew the reason why. Dawn pushed aside a feeling of guilt.

  ***

  Dawn stepped up to the plate Friday morning, mentally cursing whoever had invented gym. Tim sniggered from the pitcher's mound.

  "Look who's here," he said. "This inning will be over in a flash."

  "Come on, dude, strike her out!" someone called.

  Dawn yearned to blast the ball out to the woods, but that wouldn’t happen. Maybe there was another way to look good.

  If she was as capable as Serina had promised, Dawn could make her classmates screw up, too. They'd see how it felt to have everyone laugh at their failings.

  Dawn took a few deep breaths to center herself. She focused on the orange and brown tingeing the trees, allowing nature to calm her and open her mind. Dawn imagined herself sitting in her telepathy room, sliding a headset over her ears. She visualized Tim drawing back his arm and hurling the ball over the tall chain link fence past the catcher. As Dawn murmured her instructions under her breath, a warm buzz electrified in her scalp and forehead as if her upper chakras were waking up.

  Throw a wild pitch.

  Tim aimed the ball over the backstop into the woods, his face a vacant mask.

  It had worked! Dawn stayed guarded, even though she wanted to leap up and down like a cheerleader.

  "Hey, Travers, a little wild, aren't you?" a tea
mmate yelled.

  Blinking as if confused, Tim caught another ball and stretched out his arm. Dawn concentrated again. Throw another wild pitch.

  His eyes went glassy as he tossed the second ball into the woods.

  Dawn saw Candace move in a few steps from right field. After two more wild pitches, Mrs. Welch ordered another pitcher to the mound. Tim walked to the sidelines, bewildered, and Dawn jogged to first base.

  As one of Tim's friends bunted to third, Dawn pictured him tripping over the bag.

  Fall in front of the first baseman, she mentally ordered.

  Safely on second, she glanced back. The guy lay sprawled on his stomach, staring up placidly, as his opponents tagged him out.

  Dawn was doing it. She was actually doing it! The tingling sensation floated over her sixth and seventh chakras like warm bubbles in a bathtub.

  In the next inning, Renee rushed to catch a fly ball. She screamed as it smacked the side of her arm. Dawn hadn’t interfered. She assumed it was coincidence, until Dawn noticed Candace's wide grin.

  Candace sent her a thought: I got the batter to aim at the snob. You’re not the only one who can play this game.

  Dawn jumped at the voice in her head. Are you in, too?

  You’d better believe it, sister.

  Whoa! Over the next several minutes, Dawn and Candace took turns making their perplexed classmates fumble. Candace grabbed the bat and no one made fun of her. Dawn closed her eyes, envisioning her friend hitting a homerun.

  The ball soared through the sky, past the outfield. Candace whooped. She rounded the bases, but her teammates didn't congratulate her.

  Mrs. Welch cleared her throat. "Nice hit. Let’s call that a game."

  They headed to the locker room a few minutes early, hardly anyone speaking as they crossed the parking lot. Dawn and Candace lingered behind their subdued classmates.

  "That was cool," Dawn whispered. "I can't believe we did that!"

  Candace skipped forward, as exuberant as a first grader playing hopscotch. "Did you see how surprised everyone was when I got a homerun? Thanks, by the way."