The Secrets of Lost Stones

by Melissa Payne

  When she’d asked Lucy about her visitors, Lucy said simply, Just a few folks who needed my help. Nothing too big.

  Star tapped her foot, opened her eyes wide as though Jess were the slowest person in the world. When Jess began to speak, a thought unfolded that stuck inside her throat, made her heartbeat weak. What would Chance have been like at Star’s age? She pressed a hand against her chest, pushed the thought away. She’d never know, and it was pointless and painful to guess. She tried to smile at Star, but her lips felt stiff. “Anyway,” she said at last, “you don’t need to worry about the Mountain Market.”

  “Oh, but she does!” came Lucy’s voice as she swept into the kitchen.

  “Why?” Star asked.

  “It’s Wednesday.”

  “And?” Star looked to Jess as though hoping she might translate.

  Jess shrugged.

  “And you said you were curious about what I did on Wednesdays,” Lucy said.

  “Am I walking you to the store?”

  “Walk me to the store?” Lucy shook her head. “What an absurd job. No, you’ll help Jess make blueberry muffins and serve coffee.”

  Star’s eyes shifted from Lucy to Jess, until finally her face broke out in a wide grin, making her look even more like a child. “That’s so weird,” she said.

  Something twisted in Jess’s chest, and she turned back to the sink. She cleared her throat and tossed the drying rag across the counter. “Let’s go, then. The store’s not going to open itself.”

  It had happened last Friday when she opened the door to the market—the feeling that someone had just left, a shifting of the dark, the way the shadows crawled to the corners when she flipped on the overhead lights. But it looked exactly the way she and Lucy had left it last week.

  Star wandered the store while Lucy disappeared into the back room. If it was like last Friday, Lucy would sit at an oversize wooden desk, flip through ledgers, and take notes. Maybe have another “customer” or two. Jess followed her, closing the door that separated her office from the kitchenette. She paused by the desk. “Lucy?” she said.

  “Yes?”

  “How is the store able to stay in business without customers actually buying anything?” Jess assumed that Lucy was well off financially, but what if she was holding on to the store for personal reasons? It could be a financial drain, for all Jess knew. Jess had never run a business, but she understood that inventory plus no customers did not equal sales.

  Lucy rapped the desk with her fingers. “The customers come when they need something.”

  “But do they ever buy anything?” Jess asked.

  Lucy continued to tap the desk with her fingers. “You are very closed off to possibilities.”

  Jess pressed her lips together. If evasiveness were a sport, Lucy would be a gold medalist. “What do you mean?”

  “I think you know.”

  Jess shifted her weight and tightened her ponytail, having no idea how to respond.

  Lucy sighed as though disappointed. “When customers need something,” she said, “they come to the market. Sometimes they come for flour or sugar, but mostly they come for my help.”

  “Your help?”

  “The loose ends. I’ve talked to you about this already.” Lucy picked up her eyeglasses and set them on the bridge of her nose, leaning forward to study a calendar on the desk in front of her.

  The gesture made Jess feel dismissed, but she wasn’t about to give up that easily. “You don’t like loose ends. I know. But what are they?”

  Lucy sighed and folded her arms, sitting back in the chair. “It’s a family trait to see them. My mother and her mother before her and so on. They all had the gift.” Her face clouded. “But I’m the last. Maybe that’s why it’s so strong in me.”

  “What’s so strong in you?”

  “Seeing them. They’re everywhere, and it’s my business to help them. And when people in this town need my services, they come to me.” She squinted at Jess over the rim of her glasses. “And I’m only open one day a week because I’m old, Jess.”

  Jess gritted her teeth and rubbed the back of her neck roughly with one hand. Did Lucy enjoy confusing her? From what she had come to understand, Lucy was a sort of grandmother to the people in town. Jess figured they came to her for advice and that Lucy liked to refer to it as her gift. And Jess couldn’t disagree; listening was a gift not given to many people. Her mother certainly didn’t have it. She briefly wondered what her life might have looked like if she’d had someone like Lucy back then. “Lucy, I—”

  “Like I said, you’re very closed off to possibilities.” Lucy dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “Which is surprising, considering.”

  Jess stiffened. “Considering what?”

  Lucy sucked in her bottom lip and tilted her head to the side. Then she shook her head and let her eyes drop to the desk. She pulled out a leather-bound book, opening it to a page in the middle, and began scribbling across the paper. When she didn’t lift her head again, Jess realized that was all she had to say.

  With a sigh, she backed away from the desk and slipped between the curtains into the main store. Star stood by the cash register at the front.

  “This tuna looks like it’s been sitting on the shelf since I was born.” Star blew across the top, and dust rushed into the air. “Pretty sure that means it’s expired.” She scrunched her nose and squinted her eyes. “What does she do here every Wednesday?”

  Jess sighed and walked past Star to the area behind the counter. “It’s her routine,” she said, and grabbed two black aprons from metal hooks.

  “Huh?”

  “Elderly people sometimes hold on to a routine. It’s comforting. I think the market does that for Lucy. Plus, I think that people like to talk to her.” She tossed an apron to Star. “Time to make the muffins.”

  “People come in here for muffins and coffee?” Star asked, tying the apron behind her waist.

  Jess smiled, enjoying Star’s bewilderment. At least she wasn’t the only one in the dark. “Yep.”

  Star released a low whistle and shrugged. “Show me where to start.”

  “Don’t get excited. The muffins are a mix from a box.”

  While Star made the muffins and coffee in the kitchenette, Jess wiped down the small round table by the front window, swept the floors, dusted the counters, and reorganized the toiletry section.

  The ring of the front door and then Ben’s voice interrupted the quiet morning. “Hello? Jess?”

  He stood by the door, holding his wide-brimmed hat between his hands.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “See any bears today?” His smile softened the hard lines of his face. He was a tall man with big hands and wide shoulders that filled the room.

  “Can I help you with something?”

  “All business, aren’t you?” He set his hat on the counter. “Is Lucy here?”

  “She’s in the back,” Jess said. “Would you like me to get her?”

  “Actually, I stopped by to see you.”

  Jess felt her shoulders tense.

  “I know I came off a bit rude yesterday. I was surprised, I guess, because Lucy didn’t talk to me about hiring an in-home caregiver.” He scuffed the floor with the toe of his boot. “Lucy’s been more of a mother to me than mine ever was, and I always assumed she’d want my help when she got to this stage of life.”

  She thought of Mr. Kim and understood exactly how Ben felt. Even though she’d been his paid caregiver, it had stung when nobody thought to call her at his passing. For as close as Lucy and Ben seemed, part of her wondered why Lucy hadn’t talked to Ben about her plans too.

  “I stopped by to see you because I want to make sure that you’ve got the full picture about Lucy.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  He looked up at the ceiling as though searching for his next words. “Lucy says she knows things.”

  She laughed. “She told me that when I first met her.”

 
“You don’t understand.” He pointed a finger at his head. “She thinks it’s a gift.”

  “Like a psychic?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. More like an intuitive.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Ben shifted his weight. “She thinks that she can help people find answers, solve problems. And she does—that’s the crazy thing. But I’ve always believed it just comes from Lucy being a nice person. She’s helped find lost pets or brought two people together, and she has a particular fondness for lost kids. Like me, for example. She didn’t have to buy my practice gear for football or pay my college application fees. But she did because that’s the kind of person she is.”

  Jess wrinkled her nose, confused. She didn’t see the problem. “Those are all really nice things,” she said.

  “They are. But as she’s gotten older, I think she’s begun to believe the hype about her in town.”

  Jess couldn’t help but smile. “That she’s a witch?”

  “Not so much that, although she does enjoy dressing the part.” He smiled. “But now . . . she’s beginning to lose track of time. I’ve found her a couple of times in the middle of the night wandering around her yard in her nightgown, confused and disoriented.”

  “You’re worried there’s something wrong with her?”

  He nodded.

  She took a deep breath. It was good that he told her. “Thanks, Ben. This is the kind of stuff I need to know if I’m going to be of any help to her. We have an appointment with her doctor soon, and I’ll be sure to speak with her about your concerns. In the meantime, I can help Lucy go through the house, prepare for the day if it comes.” It made her sad to think of Lucy having to leave the home she loved, but that was exactly where Jess could help her. “Maybe we’ll start with that old shed of hers and . . .” At the look on Ben’s face, she trailed off. “What’s wrong?”

  “Benjamin Watts, how many times do I have to tell you? I’m not and will never be leaving that house.”

  Jess turned. Lucy stood just behind her, her eyes glowing blue.

  Ben twirled the edges of his hat. “Now, Lucy. I’m just making sure Jess has all the information she needs to do her job. I’ve already offered to buy the house from you. You wouldn’t even need to do anything to it. I’ll take it as is.”

  Lucy pressed her lips into a flat line.

  There was a tension between them that made Jess edge around Lucy and head to the back of the store. “Coffee, Ben?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  She pulled the curtain closed behind her. “Star?” she hissed. She searched the office opposite the kitchenette, but that was empty too. The girl must be hiding again.

  She poured coffee into a mug and was setting a warm muffin onto a plate when the screen door to the alley rattled against its wooden frame. She walked over to the door. “Star?” The porch was empty except for a few stacked crates and boxes.

  When Jess turned to leave, she heard a tapping on the doorframe. She peered over her shoulder, expecting to see Star. Her hand flew to her chest. “You again,” she breathed.

  He stood on the other side of the door with his hands pressed into the screen until it seemed his flesh might pop through the webbing. He tilted his head toward the ground so all she could see was the top of it. A little prankster, that’s what he was. Her shoulders slumped with relief. She wasn’t crazy after all.

  She started to say something, hesitated. He was familiar in a way that made her chest tighten: his size, the way he stood with his toes pointed slightly out, jeans that fell just short of his ankles.

  Her eyes burned. She felt hot and dry, feverish. But she approached the door, reaching for him with the hand that grasped the full coffee mug. “Hey, buddy,” she croaked. A rush of frigid air blew across the back of her neck.

  She felt a sudden urge to tip his chin up, a desperate need to see his face. Her hands began to shake, and black coffee dripped over the side of the mug. His utter lack of movement made her legs feel watery, insubstantial, and she almost dropped to her knees. Her reaction to this kid was ridiculous.

  But being around a little boy again brought on a rush of memories that assaulted her. Chance’s skinny arms around her neck when she tucked him in, the velvet softness of his cheek when she kissed him good night. The card he made for a classmate whose dad died in Afghanistan, the way he smiled, even if he was sad.

  Then a thought came to her, and the memories faded. Ben said Lucy had a soft spot for kids. Maybe this one needed her help.

  “Hey, bud,” she said, louder this time. Without responding, the boy turned and bolted away. “No, wait!” she called, and pushed open the door with her hip. Hot coffee splashed across her skin, and the liquid collected into muddy rivulets in the dirt at her feet. “Ouch!” she cried, blowing on the angry marks across her hands.

  Ben swept through the curtains, and his eyes surveyed the room. “I heard you yell. Everything okay?”

  “There’s this boy I keep seeing . . .” She frowned at the soggy muffin and the half-empty cup.

  Ben leaned against the doorway, grinned. “Sounds like he’s trying to see the Witch of Pine Lake.”

  She laughed. Of course. She returned the wet plate and half-empty cup to the counter. A kid that age would be fascinated by the stories of Lucy.

  “Something wrong with your hand?”

  “What?” Without realizing it, Jess had been scratching at her wrist again, so hard this time a tiny bead of blood welled from a particularly deep scratch. She pulled her sleeve down and pasted a smile on her face. “How do you take your coffee?”

  Ben stared at her for a moment. “Black,” he said. “Listen, Jess, I wouldn’t worry about the boy. He’ll either lose interest or finally get the nerve to speak to Lucy instead of trying to scare you.”

  She tried to laugh, but her mouth felt too tight, her nerves thin and shaky from the morning. “I want you to know that I’ll take good care of Lucy.”

  He knocked back the rest of his coffee and set the mug on the counter. “I’m around if you need me,” he said, and tipped his hat before leaving the kitchenette.

  She leaned against the counter; she could feel herself coming unhinged. Whether it was from the boy who seemed to be waiting for her around every corner or Star’s youthful presence in the house, Jess felt her thoughts continually dragged backward to the night her son died, to finding him sprawled in the street. Telling herself as she ran, her heart in her throat, her feet slipping across the icy street, that he must have tripped and fallen, except she was already screaming, a shriek that echoed against the building, disappeared down the empty street. She knew he was gone, could feel it in the way her insides had wrenched apart, forming a hole so big she thought she might disappear inside. She knelt beside him on the pavement, her jeans soaked to the knees, and sobbed into his curls.

  She pulled in a ragged breath that came out as soft moan, tightened her ponytail, and began cleaning the coffee mug and plates, trying to focus on the here and now. It was the only way she had survived, by moving forward. Tomorrow she would confirm Lucy’s doctor’s appointment, organize her cavernous and trinket-filled basement, and convince her that Star would be better helped by professionals.

  Lucy walked into the kitchenette then, her gaze running across the room.

  Jess straightened her apron and pointed to the back door. “The boy was back,” she said.

  Lucy nodded once. “The boy. Yes, well, we already know about him.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  STAR

  When the police car pulled up to the Mountain Market, Star was outside, throwing away the trash. The metal lid banged heavily when she closed it, causing the man to glance in her direction. She jumped between the dumpster and the hill behind it, trying to hold her breath. Rotting meat tinged the air, and the moist ground felt like a sponge beneath her feet. With her body pressed against the damp hillside, she waited for his footsteps to come closer.

  Her pulse raced. It would en
d as it always had—with the cops taking her back to the foster family.

  She remembered the first time she ran away. She’d been in foster care for two years and was already on her fourth placement. The family had been fine. But Star didn’t want fine. She wanted her mother.

  So one night, when everyone in the house had been asleep for hours, she pulled a packed pillowcase from under her bed, slipped into a coat, and walked out the front door. She slept under a yellow plastic slide in a play park that night and woke up to a red-haired toddler with a runny nose poking her in the stomach. When the cops showed up, she was on a swing, pumping her legs with her eyes closed and her hair flying around her face.

  I like the park, she told them.

  They took her anyway.

  The ding of the front door sounded, and the memory dissolved. The cop had gone inside the market. She slumped against the prickly earth but didn’t move from behind the dumpster. She wasn’t taking any chances on him finding her.

  Ten minutes later came the cough of the squad car as the engine started up. She tiptoed to the back door and stopped in her tracks. Her skin prickled. She was being watched. Shoes inched out from behind a box. Next came the tip of a small finger. She shook her head, squeezed her eyes shut, and hurled open the door, locking the deadbolt with trembling hands.

  “Did you see it?”

  She whipped around to find Jess studying her with pinched lips.

  “See what?”

  “That damn raccoon. He keeps finding a way into the dumpster.” Jess’s eyebrows scrunched together. “You put the bar down and locked it, right?”

  “What?” She frowned at Jess. “Yeah, I locked up your garbage.”

  A few hours later, Lucy poked her head between the curtains. “That’s all for today. Let’s go home.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  JESS

  It was after five when they returned from the market. Lucy immediately retired to her room, leaving Jess and Star in the small kitchen. Jess tried to make conversation, but she was distracted by the memories of Chance that had continuously plagued her all day, and with the weight of figuring out how to best help Star and her concern for Lucy’s overall health, she just didn’t have it in her for small talk. Star seemed to be in her own world, too, because the silence stretched between them until Star made a beeline upstairs.