Bells On Her Toes (The Psychic Seasons Series Book 2)

by ReGina Welling

  Today, none of her rituals were helping. It was payback for stirring Finn up last night. She’d been cruel in her own way. Lost in thought, she circled the block three times before noticing; and, no matter what she did, she just could not call her muse. Even the incense wouldn’t burn. Every match she lit was quickly extinguished as though someone had blown it out.

  Someone had.

  Julius had been trying to get her attention and couldn’t understand why she could neither see nor hear him when she’d easily done so in the past.

  “Gypsy girl.” He manifested himself as solidly as he could and called to her again. He still couldn’t bring himself to say the name Gustavia. “Gypsy Girl.” Louder this time.

  She lit another match; he blew it out. She stomped into the house and returned with a butane lighter. He blew it out. Three more times before her fogged thoughts cleared enough to realize something was strange.

  Sinking into a deck chair, she called out, “I can’t see you, but I know you’re there.”

  “Gypsy girl.” This time she heard him.

  “Julius? What are you doing here? Is Julie okay?” Now, she could see him.

  “Fine, fine. It’s you I need to talk to.” He was agitated.

  Gustavia waited patiently for him to make his point.

  “Family is important,” he said, nodding his head emphatically, as though that one statement should make everything clear. It didn’t. When she didn’t respond, he shuffled his ghostly feet and repeated, “Family is important.”

  “You said that. Twice.”

  “Are you being deliberately obtuse?” He scowled.

  “Are you being deliberately vague?” She countered.

  “Family…”

  “Don’t say it. I heard you the first two times.” Then it dawned on her. “Is this one of those cryptic clue things that you aren’t allowed to say outright?”

  That was it. She was sure of it when he didn’t answer. Following that train of thought to its logical conclusion, she asked, “Are you talking about my family and does that have anything to do with the search for the second key?”

  Nothing.

  “I don’t know why I asked, but since you don’t seem able to speak, I’ll take that as a yes.” A closer look at his face showed there was something more to be learned. It made no sense at all that her own family was directly involved so it must just be something to do with Julie’s family. It was a clue. The first clue as far as she knew.

  “Okay. Family is the first clue, something important about family. Am I right?”

  Whatever had been holding him silent was released. “You know I can’t confirm anything about the clue; but, Gypsy girl, you’ve got something stuck in your craw. It’s to do with family, and nothing can move forward until you make your peace. Estelle says your folks let you down badly.”

  Estelle had phrased it differently, much less diplomatically and with some name-calling, but it amounted to the same thing. Raising children without giving them a sense of safety, without loving them unconditionally—well—it was a crime in her book.

  She shrugged and nodded.

  “Just remember, not every family portrait is a pretty one.” Julius stressed the words family portrait. “If you have a painful memory, you need to deal with it; you can’t just lock it away.” Emphasis on the last three words.

  If that sounded like an odd thought, Gustavia put it down to his losing energy to speak and answered, “I’ll remember,” as he faded away.

  His final words echoed back faintly, “You have the key.”

  Closing her laptop—writing today now seemed impossible—she texted the group, let them know about her experience. They had another clue.

  ***

  Gustavia asked Julie to invite everyone to Hayward House so she could tell the group about her visit from Julius. It was time they got serious about the next phase of the search.

  The last one through the door, Gustavia was surprised to see Finn there with the others. Was he the Finn she laughed with on the phone or the one who had ranted and hung up on her? Hard to tell at a first glance. And they say women are moody. If gender was a prerequisite for moodiness, he was one man well acquainted with his feminine side.

  Ignoring all that as well as the question of why he was there, she repeated Julius’ words as he’d said them.

  “What it boils down to is that we have the key, we only need to identify it, and that it has something to do with family. Possibly a family portrait. I sense a trend. The last key was also a portrait,” Tyler elaborated. “Julie, any family portraits in the house?”

  “Assuming family portrait means a group rather than an individual, none that I can remember, but maybe one will turn up.”

  “Well, at least we’re pretty sure the windows are part of the whole thing, right?” Kat said.

  “Then we should go up and look at the rest of the windows.” Gustavia said. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that there are four of them, four seasons with their equinoxes and solstices, and four hidden spaces. Maybe there will be something about the next window that will help us identify the key.” Everyone followed Julie into the house and up the stairs.

  “We found the first cache at summer solstice and the next change of seasons is fall equinox. That would be September 23 this year. Sets the deadline for identifying and using the key.” Gustavia spoke her thoughts aloud.

  Amethyst picked up on her logic. “Fall equinox means we are probably looking for the window with the fall motif. Which one is that Julie?”

  “It’s in one of the closed off rooms.” At one time, Julie’s home had been a boarding home for war widows and their children. There were several bedrooms and baths on the second floor that now went unused, partly because they were not needed and partly because of the money required for upkeep.

  Before they’d found the first installment of the family fortune, she’d been considering ways to produce income and had thought of asking for a loan to turn the place into an inn or B&B. Now, they’d already scrubbed one suite down and turned it into an office workspace for Tyler and she was thinking of expanding her studio space. The rooms were still filled with period furniture that might work well for the fashion shoots she was now doing in increasing numbers. Repairs first, expansion later. She told herself.

  ***

  Julie led the way to the fall-themed window. It was just as spectacular as the summer one had been, depicting several large trees exploding in a riot of red, yellow and orange leaves against a vivid blue sky. The artist had used glass in varying degrees of opacity to fill out his color palette and cut the pieces to take advantage of the natural swirls created by the coloring process.

  Each of the four windows was contained in a frame of richly colored oak elaborately carved with a branch and leaf motif matching the windows. Neither a visual inspection nor Kat’s nimble fingers revealed a clue; there were no brackets to hold a painting in place as they had found on the summer themed window.

  “Anything?” Gustavia queried when Kat had finished running her hands over the windows and the parts of the frame that she could reach. Reading braille made the blind psychic’s fingertips exceptionally sensitive.

  “Nothing on the frame, but I did feel something odd in the leading, here, here and here.” She pointed to sections of leading that were not smooth and flat to the glass like the rest. These bits were curved outward to create a small lip. The anomalies were difficult to see but easy to find using her sense of touch.

  Once she’d pointed them out, they found more. Ten in all.

  Another clue. Or so they hoped.

  ***

  Finn had remained quiet while Gustavia recounted her discussion with a ghost. He’d followed the others upstairs to look at the window, eager for a closer look at the workmanship, but it was difficult to really wrap his head around this whole situation.

  Could all of this be real? They’d found a hidden panel; he’d seen it for himself when Tyler had taken him to the library and pres
sed the button that operated the cleverly designed door. It was hard to be skeptical when you’d crawled into a treasure trove, even an empty one.

  The idea of seeing a ghost was unnerving. In fact, his stomach was jumping at the thought.

  Amused, Gustavia watched the emotions play across his face. For once, he wasn’t holding them back.

  He stepped forward to make an observation.

  “Notice how each of the areas with the leading anomalies is rounded?”

  “What do you think it means?” Julie asked him.

  “No clue,” he glanced back at her. “Just an observation. It might come in handy later, every detail counts.”

  Amethyst said, “Must be a man thing, thinking about the details. Tyler has his lists.” At that, everyone looked around to see him sitting on a chair, busily typing up an account of Gustavia’s story and what they’d found by looking at the window.

  Feeling all eyes on him, Tyler looked up, “What? I was just…”

  “Making a list.” It was a chorus of cheerful voices.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Good morning, young man. What’s your name?” Finn hadn’t heard anyone walking across the roof toward him. How had this older woman managed to sneak up on him like that?

  “I’m Finn Kent, the roofing contractor.” He held out a hand but with a funny, yet amused look on her face, the woman ignored the gesture.

  “I’m Estelle, Julie’s grandmother.” I was right, Estelle thought, he does have enough sensitivity to see me, just like his daughter.

  Remembering the story he’d heard at the cookout the other day, Finn paled under his tan. He’d just introduced himself to a ghost. “Umm hmm.” He couldn’t think of what to say next. In fact, he couldn’t think at all.

  Smiling as though she could read his thoughts, or lack of them, Estelle said, “I wanted to speak to you because I have a confession to make. I’ve spoken to your daughter, Samantha.” She registered his shocked expression and the tension that immediately showed itself in the lines of his body, the set of his jaw, the spark of his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I can see this makes you angry, and I understand. I’d feel exactly the same way. In my defense, I didn’t think she would be able to see me until it was too late and she already had. She’s a lovely girl. Just beautiful. You should be proud of her, of yourself for the way you’ve raised her.”

  Emotions overwhelmed him. He was proud of Samantha, but she hadn’t told him, hadn’t said a word about seeing a ghost. It wasn’t like her to keep something this big from him. Just having this sprung on him was disconcerting.

  “Thank you for your honesty, but I’m not sure where to go with this.”

  “I’m sure you know best. What I really wanted to talk to you about is my girl, Gustavia.” As she spoke the words, she watched him even more closely. The tension ratcheted up even higher. Clearly, he had strong conflicting feelings.

  “If I was a betting spirit, I’d put money on the fact she hasn’t told you anything about her past. It’s not my place to tell her story, though I will say it would be a mistake to make assumptions about her based on the surface. “

  “I’m not that shallow.” Anger flashed through him at the notion.

  “Don’t climb on your high horse with me, young man. I can see full well that you have some kind of feeling for her. Her history is complicated and painful. Do her the service of learning it,” she said sternly.

  “Yes, Ma’am.” His mother raised him to be respectful of his elders.

  Estelle winked out of sight leaving him feeling more conflicted than before.

  ***

  “Something you want to tell me?” From across the dinner table, Finn pinned his daughter with an icy look. Uh-oh, she thought, busted.

  “I had an interesting experience today, I met Estelle and she told me all about your little talk. Was there some reason you didn’t tell me?”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “Tell me your story. Tell me why you didn’t tell me before and then I’ll figure out whether I’m mad not.” He rubbed a hand over his face, took a deep breath then exhaled. He didn’t look too freaked out, and when he reached over and took her hand, she knew it would be okay.

  “Well, me and Lola went to the gazebo and we were playing princess. Lola was acting kinda funny; she kept looking at something. So I looked up, and she just kind of appeared. Boy, did she seem surprised that I could see her. I think it was an accident. She asked me who I was, and she was really super nice. When she told me she was a ghost, I wasn’t scared. I asked about Mommy, to see if Estelle knew her, but she said Mommy would have been too sad to be a ghost and not be able to give hugs anymore so she probably went into the light.”

  Finn’s heart felt like it was breaking all over again. He swallowed hard and concentrated on pulling back the tears that threatened to fill his eyes.

  “Then she said that Mommy must have thought it was best to move on and leave a space for me to have another mommy, one who could give hugs and read me stories and kiss my cheeks.”

  Finn dropped his head into his hands. He had no idea she’d been thinking on these lines.

  “I mean, really Dad, someday I’m going to need to learn how to put on makeup and stuff. Are you going to be able to show me how?”

  Continuing to eat as though everything were still normal, Finn felt anything but. Sam had no idea her simple question had thrown his thoughts into turmoil. She needed a mother, wanted one. Was he protecting her from something that would give her happiness? At her next words, he put down his fork. The food had turned to dust in his mouth anyway.

  “If I could pick a mommy, I know who it would be. I’d pick Miss Gustavia.”

  That got his attention, but Sam had no idea the effect these words had on her father; she was too young to understand.

  “The idea of a new mommy doesn’t scare you?”

  “No. Miss Gustavia isn’t scary; she has warm hands and nice eyes. I know she gives the best hugs, and I bet her kisses are nice, too.”

  Finn knew it was true.

  “What if she had to leave like your other mommy?” Finn knew within a day of meeting her what a disservice it was to judge Gustavia by her outward appearance. He knew she was a loyal to a fault, and he knew that anyone lucky enough to be loved by her would have that love forever. But, he had to ask the question anyway, if for no other reason than to gauge Sam’s growth and recovery.

  “Then I’d miss her, but I’d be glad she was here for a little while. I know she wouldn’t leave on purpose. She’s too nice for that. Same as Mommy. Don’t you think it was better to have had her for a little while than not to have her at all?”

  Hugging his daughter, Finn wished he had her strength and her wisdom.

  ***

  It was less surprising to see Finn’s name on the screen this time when he called.

  “I have a coffee can full of rocks under my bed,” he said when she answered. “One of those big commercial sized ones.”

  “I keep mine in the garden, that way people think they are part of the landscaping. They’re all heart shaped.”

  “I have one that looks like Elvis.” Gustavia slapped a hand over her mouth so he wouldn’t hear her snort.

  “I own the soundtrack to the musical episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” she admitted.

  “My favorite episode.” They laughed. It felt so comfortable, so right. Why couldn’t they feel this way in person?

  “My middle toe is longer than my big toe. Sam named it Stretch.”

  “I hear music whenever I use my blow dryer or vacuum cleaner. It used to make me think I was crazy, but I looked it up and it’s a thing. Common.”

  “I think Jello is weird. I mean, it wiggles. What’s with that?”

  “Caviar is worse. Looks more like eyes than eggs. Gives me the heebie jeebies.”

  “Well, people eat some strange things. Strangest thing I ever ate was one of those lollipops with a bug in the middle.”

  �
��A dare?”

  “Drunk.”

  “Had to be one or the other.”

  They talked for over an hour, sharing confidences, embarrassing moments, little glimpses without judgment, without shame. The phone lent them both a feeling of anonymity that allowed him to open up without the fear that twisted him, turned him angry, surly. Bit by bit, they relaxed into each other.

  “I’m getting sleepy,” she finally admitted after stifling the third yawn.

  “I’ll hang up now, then.”

  “No, keep talking. Tell me about the worst house you ever worked on.”

  “Oh, that’s not a story for the faint of heart.”

  “Guess it’s a good thing I’m lionhearted, then.” Pulling back the covers, Gustavia slid into bed, still holding the phone to her ear and listened to his voice rising and falling as she drifted off to sleep.

  On the other end of the call, Finn heard her breathing slow and deepen. He knew she was asleep but continued to the end of his story then whispered, “Goodnight, sweet angel,” before clicking the end button.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sitting at her laptop, Gustavia was frustrated again because her mind was clouded with non-writing thoughts that played havoc with her work. Words that used to flow and flood through her imagination and out her fingers now only came in fits and starts. She was just thinking she’d somehow managed to maim her muse when she heard the doorbell ring. Now what?

  Distracted and not entirely sure she wanted to be bothered, Gustavia opened the door to find Julie standing on her front step looking like the cat who had swallowed the swallow. No, that wasn’t right, but it was some kind of bird. Maybe a parakeet.