by Bobbi Holmes
“Don’t leave me here! Please Hunter! I won’t say anything more about Vegas.”
Hunter didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stared at Claire, his expression unreadable. Finally, he said, “Then finish eating and get ready for bed. We have a big day ahead of us. I need to get us each some new clothes, a decent suitcase, and we need to do something with your hair.”
“My hair?” Claire absently twisted a lock of damp hair between her fingers.
“When we show up at that B and B, the last thing I want is for them to know we’ve been living on the road.”
“Are you really sure about this?” Claire reached over and grabbed a second slice of pizza.
“You nagging me about Vegas again, Claire?”
“No! Honest…just that…” Claire took a bite and chewed for a moment before finishing her thought. “I just don’t really understand why we have to go to the B and B. Plus it’s so close to…well you know.”
“It is a sign, Claire, I told you. The moment I found that notebook, I just knew.”
“But don’t you think the owners of that B and B have already been through the house? If there are other hidden treasurers, wouldn’t they have found them already?”
“They don’t have my gift, Claire. The moment I read the notebook I knew—I knew that’s where I need to go. You’ll see. You’ll thank me. Hell, when we’re finished, you can have steak every night if you want!”
“It’s just that…” Claire said with a pout.
“Just that what?”
“It’s not that far from Tina.”
“It’s not all that close either. So what do you care anyway?’
“She is your wife.” Claire nervously chewed her lower lip.
“I told you. I’m with you now.”
“Then why don’t you just divorce her?”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“We can’t get married if you’re still married to her.”
“Don’t start that again. I told you, I’m never going to get married again! Once is enough. And if I divorce Tina, then she can get married again.”
“Would that really be so bad?”
“I told you; I’m not going to have the mother of my kid sleeping with some other guy!”
“What makes you think that isn’t happening now?”
“Tina wouldn’t dare.” Hunter angrily grabbed another slice of pizza.
“When we stay at the B and B, how will we check in?”
“Don’t tell me you care what they think?” Hunter began to laugh. Claire blushed and shook her head. “If it makes you feel any better I made the reservation for me and my wife.”
“I still feel kind of funny about going back there.”
“Why? No one will remember us.”
“But still…”
“It’s a sign. None of this is a coincidence. There are no coincidences. We are meant to go back.”
“What about Isabella?”
“What about her?” Hunter frowned.
“That’s where she’s from.”
“So?”
“Have you talked to her about going there? What does she say?”
“Let me worry about Isabella.” Hunter stood up and went to the nightstand. Pulling open its drawer, he removed the local phone book. He tossed it on the bed next to Claire. “You worry about finding a local beauty shop. We need to make a good impression.”
Chapter Seven
Thursday morning, Walt stood at the doorway to the Red Room and watched as Danielle changed the bedsheets.
“You could have Joanne do that,” Walt suggested.
“If you’ll remember, Joanne is gone until next week. I didn’t know we’d be having any guests when she asked for the time off. Really didn’t expect any reservations after Labor Day.”
With a wave of his hand, Walt summoned a thin cigar. It was already lit. “Are you sure you’re up to this, Danielle?”
“Not really, but what else can I do? I’ve already accepted the reservation.”
“You could call and cancel it. Tell him the house has plumbing issues.”
Danielle tossed the bedspread over the bed. “Not a bad idea—if I had his phone number.”
“Didn’t he leave one?”
“I guess I need more work on Reservation Taking 101.” Danielle leaned over the mattress. She ran her palms over the bedspread, smoothing out the wrinkles. When she finished, she sat on the edge of the mattress and looked at Walt.
“You’re going to mess up the bed.” Walt took a puff from the cigar.
“She can’t be dead, Walt. She just can’t be,” Danielle whispered.
In the next instant, Walt was seated next to Danielle on the bed, the cigar no longer in his hand.
“I know she’s like family to you.” Walt spoke in a soothing tone.
“I just buried my last family member. I can’t do this again. She’s like my sister.”
“I know.” Walt studied Danielle’s delicate profile. Wisps of dark hair escaped her once tidy fishtail braid.
“My parents are gone…I never had any brothers or sisters…Aside from Cheryl and her brother I never had any cousins…never knew my grandparents…”
“You know that is the second time you’ve said something like that,” Walt interrupted.
Danielle looked up into Walt’s blue eyes. “What do you mean?”
“That you didn’t know or have any grandparents. What about your grandmother? You told me she was the first spirit you encountered.”
“You’re right,” Danielle sighed. “I just meant I never knew my mom’s parents and can’t remember my Dad’s father. Other kids seem to have grandparents.”
“But you did have a grandmother.”
“Yes, you’re right. And she was a special grandmother. But they are all gone now. My parents, grandparents, cousins…all of them, even my husband, Lucas. Although, I suppose Lucas basically checked out of my life when he got a girlfriend.”
They were quiet for a moment when Danielle laughed ruefully.
“What is it?” Walt asked.
“I sound like a big old whiny baby—as if this is all about me. But it isn’t. It is about Lily. And I need to do something to help her and not spend my time feeling sorry for myself.”
“You’re entitled to be sad.”
“Maybe. But I shouldn’t sit here having a pity party. Especially with you.”
“Why do you say that?” Walt frowned.
“I had my parents for longer than you had yours.”
“I suppose we don’t miss what we never really had.”
“Aren’t you even a little bit anxious to move over to the other side to be reunited with those you’ve lost?”
“I’m not ready to give up what I have here,” Walt said quietly.
“That’s what I am worried about.” Danielle turned to face him, her expression serious.
“What do you mean?”
“You told me earlier I didn’t have to lose Lily. That she could just stay here.”
“She could.”
“I don’t think spirits are supposed to stay earthbound indefinitely. I believe there is something beyond this, somewhere where spirits are supposed to go…to continue on their journey. Like with Cheryl. She knew it was time for her to move on. She didn’t even show up for her funeral.”
“Do you want me to leave?” Walt’s voice was barely a whisper.
Danielle did not answer immediately. Finally, she said, “No. That’s my problem. I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want Lily to leave. But I can’t be responsible for holding either one of you back.”
“Let me worry about myself. When the time is right for me to move on, I’ll go. I promise. As for Lily, I think maybe she’s right.”
“Right, how?” Danielle asked.
“She’s adamant about not being dead. And there is the matter of the reflection.”
“What do we do?”
“Figure out some way to help Lily reconnect with her
body—before it’s too late.”
“That’s assuming it really is out there somewhere.” Danielle stood up.
When she went downstairs fifteen minutes later she found Lily in the library, standing over the desk, reading the morning newspaper.
“Can you please turn the page for me?” Lily asked when Danielle walked into the room.
“Have you tried harnessing your energy?” Danielle asked.
“Last night Walt tried to show me how. But it just doesn’t work for me. I can’t move anything—can’t pick anything up. If I am dead, I must have been a bad person because this is definitely hell. Talk about taking for granted simple things, like being able to pick up a newspaper or turn a page.”
“The up side, you don’t seem to have a problem moving through walls or sitting on chairs.” Danielle walked over to the desk and began turning the page.
“Which is a good thing, since I’m now doorknob challenged, and I can’t imagine just floating around indefinitely!” Lily looked down at the newspaper. “One more page please. I was reading the article about that local woman they found.”
“I started reading that this morning but got sidetracked.”
After Danielle turned the page, Lily pointed to a photograph excitedly. “That’s where I was!”
Danielle looked at the picture and read the caption. “It’s where they found Isabella Strickland.”
“That’s the rest stop I pulled into on Monday! I recognize it! It’s not far from Palm Springs.”
Danielle picked up the newspaper and looked at the photograph. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m starting to remember more.”
Lily pointed to the vehicle in the picture. “I even recognize that car! It was there when I pulled in. I remember noticing it because my sister has a car just like it. It’s a Tahoe. Same color and make.”
“According to the article, that’s Isabella Strickland’s car. That’s how they initially determined who she might be. Before her uncle identified her.”
“She wasn’t alone.”
“What do you mean?” Danielle set the paper back down on the desk.
“When I pulled into the rest stop it was empty—except for one car. That one. I did a double take, because it looked just like my sister’s car. There were a few people standing around it. Three, maybe four. I’m not sure exactly.”
“Men? Women?”
“A couple of women for sure. One I wasn’t so sure about. Could have been a guy, I suppose. I really didn’t look that close. I didn’t park near them.”
“This is really strange. Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Lily looked down at the newspaper. “What day did they find that woman’s body?”
“According to the article, on Monday evening—Labor Day.”
“Well, that’s pretty creepy.” Lily cringed. “They must have done something to her after I left.”
“Or….when you were still there…”
“Why do you say that?” Lily frowned.
“What do you remember after pulling into the rest stop?”
“Well…” Lily pondered the question for a moment. “I remember parking. Thinking I was glad I’d left so early.”
“Why?”
“It was early in the morning and there weren’t many cars on the road. I wanted to leave early to miss the Labor Day traffic.”
“What do you remember after parking?”
“Walking to the restroom. Going to the bathroom. And then….” Lily frowned, trying to remember something.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. It kinda gets fuzzy from there. I think I heard someone shouting, but I can’t remember what exactly. My next real memory is walking up to Ian’s house.”
“Lily, whoever left Isabella Strickland near that rest stop, must have done it while you were there. If you heard someone screaming, maybe that’s what you heard—someone attacking her. My guess is, you’re still out there.”
“Are you saying my poor body is lying in the desert by that rest stop?”
“That’s where they put Isabella. Since her car was the only one there, I don’t think anyone thought to look for another body.”
“Oh my god…do you think I’m still alive?”
Before Danielle could answer the question, Lily ran out into the hallway and looked into the mirror.
“I still have a reflection!” Lily shouted from the hallway.
“What is going on?” Walt asked as he walked down the staircase. He found Danielle stepping out of the library and Lily jumping up and down in front of the mirror.
“We know where I am!” Lily shouted, turning to Walt. “But we need to hurry up and find me before…oh my god…wild animals! Who knows what sort of damage has happened to my poor body by now!”
“What in the world is she talking about?” Walt asked Danielle.
“We think we may know where Lily’s body might be. And if we’re correct, we need to find it as soon as possible. Before it’s too late.”
Walt followed Danielle back into the library as she explained what Lily remembered and then showed him the newspaper article on Isabella Strickland.
“If this is true,” Walt said as he studied the paper. “I wonder what Isabella Strickland might be able to tell us.”
“She’s in a coma, according to the article. I don’t think she can help us.”
Walt set the newspaper back down and looked up at Danielle. Lily was still in the hallway admiring her faint reflection in the mirror. “What are you going to do?” he asked.
“We need to get someone to search the area, immediately.”
“Are you going down there?”
“That would take too long, and I don’t know the area. I was thinking I could hire someone—maybe a private detective from Palm Springs.”
“Sounds like a good idea. And I agree, you better hurry. If Lily really is alive and her body was dumped out with Isabella Strickland in the desert, who knows what condition it’s in now.” Walt picked up the newspaper again and started reading the article.
“But if it’s not there, then whoever attacked Isabella may have taken Lily. Maybe one of the people responsible was driving Lily’s car when it was in the accident.”
“Did you read this entire article?” Walt asked.
“No, why?” Danielle looked down at the newspaper in Walt’s hand.
“Because you might be on to something. According to the article, Isabella’s car was broken down at the rest stop. They speculate in the article that she may have asked the wrong person for help, and whoever it was attacked her.”
“Or whoever she was traveling with.”
“True. But the point I was making, if Isabella’s car was broken down, then maybe whoever was standing by her car when Lily drove into the rest stop—”
“Took Lily’s car.”
“Exactly,” Walt nodded. “Lily said it was the only other car in the rest stop and according to the article, it was broken down.”
“Okay, I need to get online and see who I can hire to go search the area for Lily.”
“If she’s not there, then maybe they’ll find some clues that can help us figure out where they took her,” Walt suggested.
“Part of me hopes they took Lily, and that she is safe somewhere. If she was left in the desert like Isabella…it’s been a few days now. That can’t be good.”
Chapter Eight
Claire gazed out the side window of the Cadillac as they drove northwest on Highway 26. She glanced at Hunter and said, “I hope it wasn’t a mistake to take an expensive car.”
With both hands on the steering wheel, Hunter looked over at Claire and then looked back down the highway. “Jail time’s the same for an economy car as it is for this one. Might as well drive in style.”
“I hope its owner is taking a long vacation.”
“I told you it was fate. Justina forgot to take the plate with her so even if the owner returns today, he won’t be able to find his car until afte
r we ditch it.”
Claire absently ran her fingers through her recently styled hair. “I hope you’re right.”
“Stop that,” Hunter snapped, his eyes darting in her direction.
“What?” Claire frowned, looking over at Hunter.
“You’ve messed up your hair. Fix it.”
Claire flipped down the sun visor and looked in the mirror. “I hate my hair like this,” she grumbled. “I look like someone’s mother.” Using her fingers, she attempted to straighten her hair.
“You’re messing it up more! Can’t you do anything right?”
“I don’t know why you’re being so mean lately!” Stifling a sob, she flipped the visor back up and slumped back in her seat, looking away from Hunter.
“Don’t start crying on me, Claire. You’ll screw up your makeup.”
“You never used to be like this. I thought you liked the way I look!”
“We have a part to play. You know that.”
“I know. I get to pretend to be your wife,” Claire said with a pout.
“My bride. I told them we’re on our honeymoon.”
“I wish it really was our honeymoon.”
“Last I heard, polygamy isn’t legal in this state,” Hunter laughed.
“Since when do you care about the laws?”
“Fine, let’s get married.”
Claire turned in her seat and faced Hunter. A hopeful smile replaced her glum expression. “Are you serious?”
“As long as I don’t have to screw with a divorce, why not?”
“But that wouldn’t be a real marriage!” Claire slumped back in her seat, her smile gone.
“I can’t please you. Why do you care how real it is in the eyes of the law? I’m with you, not Tina, aren’t I?”
“I suppose…” Claire glanced down at her left hand, and the engagement ring and wedding band she wore. Hunter had purchased it at Kmart before they left California. The diamonds were glass. After inspecting the fake wedding set, Claire reached down and picked up her purse off the floor by her feet. Opening it, she retrieved a gold and sapphire bracelet and began fastening it on her right wrist.
