Grave Consequences

by Lena Gregory

  “Your psychic gifts, they are new to you?” Simone asked.

  “Not really. At least, the gift itself isn’t new. I’ve been able to read people for as long as I can remember, always had an intuitive way of knowing what people were thinking or searching for. I used it when I was younger to work on the boardwalk, offering readings to tourists. But I’d always chalked it up to good instincts, then later, when I received my psychology degree, to a mix of good intuition and training. It’s only since I returned to Bay Island last year after my mother and father’s deaths that I began to realize it was something more.”

  “Ah, yes. Not surprising. A tragic event often triggers not only latent abilities but also acceptance of abilities you already possessed but may not have fully understood.”

  While her parents’ deaths may have been the catalyst that had started Cass second guessing where her knowledge came from, it was more likely finding Stephanie in danger with no hope other than Cass to save her that had precipitated her acceptance of this obvious connection to some other world.

  “I think . . . yes, I agree there might have been an event that triggered this . . .” She waved a hand around her. “Whatever this is.”

  Simone reached across the table and laid a hand over Cass’s. “This is a gift. A gift you’ve apparently been using most of your life. The only difference now is your awareness of how you receive your information.”

  “Yeah, well . . . I have to be honest, it’s driving me crazy at the moment.”

  Simone laughed, a smooth sultry laugh that inspired a feeling of friendship and camaraderie. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it.”

  She certainly hoped so.

  “And in the meantime . . .” She stood and rummaged through her bag, then pulled out a slim card holder, took out a business card, and handed it to Cass. Unlike the first one she’d given her, this card contained several phone numbers below her name, including her cell phone number. “You are welcome to call me any time, and I am looking forward to working together on the tours.”

  Thrilled with Simone’s interest in pursuing their business arrangement, Cass shook her hand. “Thank you. I’m looking forward to working with you, as well.”

  Simone started toward the door.

  “Oh, wait.” Cass held up the paper she’d colored on. “Did you want to keep this?”

  “You keep it, and when the chaos begins to overwhelm, focus on turquoise.” She resumed her trek across the shop then paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, and be sure to say hi to Fred for me.”

  Startled, Cass sucked in a breath.

  Simone simply winked and sauntered out the door.

  A range of emotions tore through Cass, the most prominent of which was confusion. Hmm . . . she’d have expected it to be excitement about the confirmation Mystical Musings would be included on the tour. Plus, the fact she had connected with Simone on some kind of personal level she didn’t understand. Nothing like that had ever happened to her before.

  She’d known Stephanie since they were kids, and when Cass had returned after seventeen years away, they’d resumed their friendship as if she’d never left. When she’d met Bee, she’d felt a sort of instant connection with him, the knowledge they’d be something to each other once they got to know each other. But the bond with Simone was different. Cass had never met anyone like her. She radiated a calm peace that slipped through you like a ray of sunshine on a frigid winter day. And on top of that, she seemed to understand Cass’s abilities in a way Cass herself didn’t.

  Seemed the day was full of surprises, and the sun had barely even risen.

  Cass stood and stretched, then went to the back counter for a cup of coffee. Darn. In her haste to begin Simone’s reading, she’d forgotten to turn on the coffee maker. Since she’d readied it before she’d left last night, all she had to do was flip the switch. And wait. Which proved harder than she’d anticipated.

  Simone’s trick with the shield had been impressive.

  While Cass seemed to be able to halt the flow of voices while she wasn’t trying to do a reading, they were a constant presence when she was. The instant she opened her mind, a mad rush ensued, like shoppers plowing through the newly opened doors for the sale of the century on Black Friday. And, unlike Simone, she had no ability to let only one voice enter. She wouldn’t even know where to start shielding someone else.

  The scent of coffee wafted through the shop, its aroma enticing, comforting. Cass propped the back door open, inviting the sounds of the gently lapping waves and seagulls into the shop while the beach was empty and the worst of the day’s heat hadn’t started yet.

  She opened the blinds, and the sun’s rays poured into the shop, setting her crystal ball ablaze with the oranges and yellows of the sunrise. Cass retrieved the ball and set it on the table. It was much easier for her to use the crystal ball, rather than any other method, as a form of meditation.

  She took her seat, pulled herself closer to the table, and focused, not really knowing what she intended to do until she stared into the crystal, letting her mind wander, opening herself. “Are you there, Fred?”

  “. . . told her . . . drifted . . . why? . . . I can’t find . . . please . . . .”

  Cass tried to sort through the voices, as Bee had suggested. First, she tried to force all of the female voices to the background. She didn’t need to listen to them right now if she wanted to try to reach Fred. Their stories would have to wait for later.

  No luck.

  She stared deeper into the crystal, concentrating, searching for its deepest secrets.

  A flash of black, the darkest of shadows, flickered into view, and then disappeared. She leaned closer, searching . . . searching . . .

  She ran a finger over the cool glass.

  Again, the black swirl appeared, but this time she grabbed hold of it, tried to hang on to it when it would have disappeared. The black haze began to solidify, take on shape. The shape of a man encased in a square . . . no, a window. The lighthouse keeper’s upstairs window. The silhouette split in two, one half standing strong, growing larger, the other tumbling into an endless abyss, whirling and spinning, not seeming to move any deeper yet unable to stop.

  Cass focused on the image. Could she bring it clear? She narrowed her gaze, pouring every ounce of her concentration onto the silhouette hurtling toward jagged black peaks.

  Come on, talk to me.

  “. . . ride . . . just want her to know . . . can’t find . . . push . . . want . . . shove . . . Tony’s . . .” Probably a local, if he was referring to Tony’s Bakery. But was it Fred? “. . . jump . . . run . . . hide . . . push . . . Cass . . . push . . . Cass? . . . pushed—”

  A strong hand landed on her shoulder, ripping her from the vision.

  Chapter Nine

  Cass screamed and whirled toward the intruder.

  Bee lurched back, bracing one hand on the table and the other against his chest.

  Cass’s chair tipped. She windmilled her arms, precariously balanced for just an instant before the chair went over and she sprawled onto the floor.

  “For crying out loud, Cass, what are you trying to do to me?” Bee huffed.

  “Seriously, Bee?” She sat up and took stock before making any attempt to stand. Everything seemed okay. She climbed to her feet with no help from the drama queen and brushed herself off. “What are you doing up already?”

  “You mean still.” He cocked a hip and fanned himself. “I haven’t gone to bed yet. Could be that I finally got too stuffed making the rounds last night to keep eating, so I switched to coffee, which I continued to imbibe all night long, first at the diner, then at the convenience store, then back at the diner, which is open twenty-four seven for the season now, and finally at the deli just after they opened this morning.”

  What in the world was he talking about? Whatever it was, he was going to have to at least let her get a cup of coffee before she tried to sort it all out. “Do you want a glass of water?”

 
“No, thanks, I’m on my way to have breakfast. That’s actually why I stopped by. I didn’t know if you were still doing your reading, so I peeked in the door and you were in here alone, so I took a chance and came in to see if you wanted to go out to breakfast. Which, by the way, why were you in here all alone, lost in space somewhere with the door wide open? You’re lucky it was only me who startled you.” He finally took a breath and paused. “Oh, dear, are you okay? I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s the matter with me. There’s no excuse. I—”

  “Stop.” She held up a hand. “I haven’t even had my first cup of coffee yet. You’re going to have to slow down and give me a minute.”

  “Uh, sorry.” Bee winced. “Are you really okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She moved to the counter and got her mug, then filled it with coffee and added milk. “As to what I was doing here, I just finished Simone’s reading.”

  He held up one beefy finger. “Speaking of, that’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about, and let me tell you, this information was not easy to come by. I had to work for it.”

  She suppressed a groan and corralled her patience. If she didn’t show sufficient appreciation for his efforts, he wouldn’t tell her anything. “Thank you, Bee. I really appreciate you working so hard to get the information I asked for.”

  He nodded and took a seat at the table.

  Actually, she did appreciate Bee’s efforts. Always. No matter what she asked for, whether it was of major importance or something trivial, Bee was always there for her. She set her mug down, then rounded the table and put her arms around Bee from behind, dropping a kiss on the top of his head.

  Bee gripped her hands and held them. “Well, thank you, hon, but what was that for?”

  She hugged him tight for another moment, then straightened and took her own seat. “Just for being you, Bee. For being such a good friend. For always having my back.”

  Splotches of red blossomed on his cheeks. “Well, don’t forget that works both ways. I’ve never had anyone else I could depend on so fully. There’s never a time you wouldn’t come running if I called.”

  “No, there’s not.” Cass hadn’t given that much thought before.

  Everyone on Bay Island knew Bee, and most were quite fond of him. People seemed to trust him, to open up to him, even though they knew full well he was the biggest gossip going. It was also known he never said a malicious word about anyone or passed on information that might be sensitive or painful if it got out. And he was one of the most generous souls she’d ever met, often donating anonymously to good causes, or picking up a check or grocery bill when someone seemed to be in need. She’d once seen him leave a hundred-dollar tip for a waitress he knew who was heading off to college.

  And he’d not only helped Tim Daughtry get into a fashion program at the school he’d wanted so badly to attend, he’d also hired him as an intern and had been mentoring him, even helping him to begin designing his own line. Cass had no doubt, when the time came, he’d reach out to his contacts to help Tim move forward.

  But, despite all of that, he never seemed to get close to anyone, to open up fully and let anyone in. Except for Cass. And, to a certain degree, Stephanie, though his reticence around Tank made their relationship a little touchy at times.

  “You do know how much I love you, right, Bee?”

  “I do, Cass.” He lowered his gaze. “As much as I love you.”

  Warmth embraced her. Not wanting to embarrass him further—Bee wasn’t one to open up about his feelings that often—she sipped her coffee and switched topics to something he’d be more comfortable with. “So, what did you find out on your all-night coffee binge?”

  He straightened in the chair and held up a hand with all the flair Cass was used to. “Okay, so, it seems your potential new business partner is not what she seems.”

  “I sure hope you mean that in a good way.”

  Bee frowned. “Why?”

  She didn’t dare mention her connection with Simone on a psychic level, not because she didn’t trust him or didn’t want his opinion or advice, but because it would make him uncomfortable. “After her reading this morning, she offered to include Mystical Musings as part of her tour package.”

  “Huh . . .”

  “That’s it? Huh?”

  He scratched his head. “I guess that doesn’t matter. It’s not like you befriended the woman or anything, and business is business.”

  She’d let it go, for now. Once she knew what Bee had found out, she could decide where, if anywhere, to take her relationship with Simone.

  “Anyway . . .” Bee bounced his leg up and down, vibrating with nervous energy—or an overdose of caffeine. She was going to have to feed him something. “As far as I could tell, Fred’s company was never listed anywhere for sale, and I got quite a few people out of bed to confirm that.”

  Oh, boy. What had she unwittingly unleashed on the unsuspecting public?

  “Not only that, but it seems Simone and Amelia go way back, attended college together as well as being part of the same groups.”

  “What kind of groups?”

  “Mostly historical type stuff. Apparently, they’re both avid history buffs.”

  That made sense, since Amelia worked at the lighthouse gift shop and museum, and Fred’s tours detailed the history of Bay Island. Probably just the sort of thing that would interest Simone. Then add the paranormal element. Considering Simone’s obvious experience in that area, the tours would be perfect for her. “So, maybe Amelia just contacted her directly when they decided to sell, knowing she might have an interest.”

  “I thought the same thing, but then . . .” Bee wiggled closer to the edge of his seat, rested his forearms on the table, and leaned forward.

  Cass braced herself for the doozy he was about to drop in her lap.

  “But then I heard about Simone’s husband.” Bee paused.

  Cass knew how to play the game. “What about him?”

  “Seems Simone’s husband disappeared under mysterious circumstances.”

  Shocked, Cass jerked back as if he’d slapped her.

  He nodded sagely, sat back, and crossed one leg over the other. With his grand climax delivered, he was ready to discuss the aftermath.

  “What do you mean, ‘mysterious circumstances’? And who told you that?” Who on Bay Island would even know Simone? Never mind know the situation with her husband.

  “Uh . . .” Bee yanked at his collar.

  “Bee?” She pinned him with a stare.

  “Oh, all right, I heard it from Emma in the deli this morning somewhere around my twenty-ninth cup of coffee. But I confirmed it with Tank.”

  “What?” And she’d thought the news about Simone was shocking. “Tank?”

  “Yeah, well, I wanted to make sure it was accurate before I passed it on to you, so I stopped by the police station, thinking Luke might be there, but he wasn’t available and Tank was, so, fueled by an overdose of caffeine, I told him what I’d heard, and that under the circumstances, since he was investigating Fred’s death and all, that maybe it might be important information for him to have, so he looked it up, and sure enough it’s true. Then he thanked me, shook my hand . . .” Bee grinned. “Held it a little longer than necessary, and warned me not to pass that around and to remind you that if you couldn’t stay out of the investigation you should be very careful.”

  Cass just stared at him and tried to take all that in. “How in the world did you find all of this out in the middle of the night, while most of Bay Island slept?”

  Though it had been a rhetorical question, mostly, Bee answered. “Oh, puh-lease, girl. Did you really expect anything less?”

  She shook her head and marveled.

  “Anyway, there’s more. Supposedly, Andrew Carlson walked out the door one night to meet friends for a drink and never returned. Simone insisted he probably left her, said the marriage had been on the rocks for a while, but the police in New York City, where they were living, never fo
und any indication that was true. He hasn’t used a credit card, hasn’t shown up on any kind of surveillance cameras anywhere they could find, and hasn’t reached out to anyone, including, apparently, his longtime side piece.”

  “Hmm . . .”

  “And, not only that, but there are rumors that his family and closest friends suspect he was murdered.” Bee tapped his fingers against the table, over and over and over, the steady staccato threatening to drive Cass crazy.

  “Why?”

  Bee snorted and, mercifully, stopped the rhythmic tap, tap, tap. “Really, Cass? How much do you expect me to be able to find out in the dead of night?”

  Touché. “So, where do we stand now?”

  “Fred was killed under mysterious circumstances, and by all accounts he was cheating on his wife, while Amelia was in the process of selling his company to a friend of hers whose husband disappeared without a trace after she found out he was cheating on her.”

  “Is that all?”

  “That’s it in a nutshell.” Bee flopped against the chair back and yawned. Seemed his caffeine rush was finally wearing off.

  “Yeah, well, there’s one more piece to that puzzle that could be a bit of a problem.”

  “Oh, what’s that?”

  Cass took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “When Simone came in for a reading this morning, she was able to calm the voices for me, allowing only one to come through.”

  Bee shot up in his seat. “Are you saying she’s psychic?”

  Cass braced herself for Bee’s outburst then nodded and squeezed her eyes shut. “And she thinks I talked to Fred.”

  Silence.

  She slit one eye open and found Bee slumped in his chair, staring straight ahead, his thick eyebrows drawn together in a hairy V.

  Before he could gather his wits enough to lay into her, Cass stood. “Come on, Bee. Let’s get you something to eat so you can get home and get some sleep, and I can go get Beast.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  No doubt one that would allow him to ignore the otherworldly implications of her statement.