* * *
They ate the salad as an early dinner.
"Why do I keep thinking about baked potatoes slathered in sour cream and butter?" Noreen's voice was plaintive. "Not that I didn't like the salad," she added hastily. "It was delicious and it made me feel virtuous."
"I don't know about that," Rose said, tongue in cheek. "You drizzled a lot of ranch dressing on those righteous veggies."
"A garment of Virtue ne'er fits well when altered by ill-advised allowances made in the fabric of integrity."
Kerry nearly choked on her iced tea. "Tell me she's not a moralizing seamstress!"
Noreen's eyes twinkled. "Elizabeth Goodhue Rush, 1793-1862. She married above her station and spent her life trying to make up for it through moral turpitude and intellectual striving."
Max wandered into the room, smiling at their laughter. He set the three thick books he carried onto the sideboard. "You sound in good spirits."
"No pun intended?" Kerry shot him a flirtatious glance.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a smacking kiss and she slid her arms up his back and hugged him.
Aura Lee, sorting forks and knives into the sideboard flatware drawer, beamed at the two of them.
"Has Brenna returned?" Max asked. She'd gone for her camera and one of her architecture books.
"Not yet." Rose was making sure she had both a Phillips head and a blade screwdriver in her toolbox. "Did you find anything useful in the books or are you weightlifting?"
Max shook his head. "One is a history of Boulder, especially regarding more significant buildings. I'd hoped to find references to oddness or strange things happening at or around Wisdom Court. No luck, I'm afraid."
Noreen pulled on the reading glasses hanging at her neck and picked up a volume. "We're working under a disadvantage. People rarely mention supernatural events or rumors when they're writing histories. I suppose they want to be taken seriously."
"Indeed." Max took the book from her and opened it to a certain page, indicating a particular paragraph.
"The Stanley Thornton home at the base of Flagstaff Mountain is a large example of a four-square house with Queen Anne elements."
"That means we'll have plenty of places to search for hollow molding and such. The stair step where you found the journal was an inspired choice. It's a place seen but not seen, totally taken for granted." Max picked up another volume. "This one talks about ghosts at the Boulderado Hotel, but there's nothing I could find regarding hauntings at private residences."
"May I see?" Kerry took the book and looked at the copyright date. "This was published in 1932." She pursed her lips. "Caldicott didn't buy this house until 1955, meaning she didn't bring the evil stone—or talisman," she responded at Andrea's snicker, "until at least then. And that raises another question about our experience with Andrea's channeling Kelvin Haslett. He was at this house in 1908, long before Caldicott arrived here." She looked meaningfully at Rose. "That means the haunting tendencies existed much earlier."
Max was hunting for the copyright date in the third book. "This one came out in the early forties. You might be right, luv. The other possibility is when Caldicott came here with the talisman, she provided energy for—or opened a portal to—paranormal activity that continues today."
Aura Lee was shaking her head in doubt. "I don't understand how that could be the case. Before Andrea arrived we didn't have any signs of ghosts. I was looking for them! It wasn't until Andrea started drawing Kelvin that I knew something otherworldly was happening."
"But why were you looking for them?" Max stacked the books in place, looking at her with interest. "Had you sensed something? Perhaps a presence?"
"That's called leading the witness," Noreen said in a dry voice.
Max raised a brow. "It's a legitimate question. One usually becomes interested in a topic because of a specific event or an ingrained tendency. Was it because of your name? Aura Lee is rather a spiritual one," he added.
Understanding dawned. "Oh, no, dear. My given name is Aurelia. I began calling myself Aura Lee after I took my first class in spell casting." She beamed at him. "It seemed like a more relevant name."
"Ah, I see." Max nodded solemnly but his lips twitched. He cleared his throat. "Had you always wanted to study such things?"
"Well, yes and no. Let me see." She stared at the table, tapping her lips with one finger. "Oh, I remember! It was the year we had a new roof put on the house. After the work was finished, Cottie complained about sounds coming from upstairs, waking her in the night. A wise-woman I knew said renovations could upset the ghosts in a house, and the idea intrigued me. I started reading about hauntings and remedies and got more and more interested."
"Did the sounds continue?" Kerry asked.
"No, and I actually think I got rid of them, because I started a class on herbs and was practicing sage cleansings and the knocking stopped after that."
"And was Caldicott impressed?" Rose asked.
Aura Lee nodded proudly. "She told me I should keep taking classes. So I did."
"Well." Max shifted the stack of books minutely and looked at the others. "I suppose we'd best continue in our search, both for more information about Wisdom Court itself and for Ms. Wyntham's journals. It's difficult for me to believe she would write one volume and then stop. She had information she knew had to be shared. My theory is that she hid it somewhere on the property. All we need to do is find it."
Kerry gasped and swiveled in her chair, looking behind her. "Did you feel that?" Her green eyes were wide with surprise.
"Feel what?" Rose looked around the room.
"Something touched me." Kerry stood up and moved around the table toward Max. "I swear, somebody put a hand on my shoulder."
* * *
Brenna strode through the associate house hallway to her front door. When her key slid into the lock and turned easily, she opened the door with a sigh of relief, slipping inside and locking it once more. Setting the key on the foyer table, she saw her hand was trembling. Okay, I find the book and get my camera. Then I'm out of here.
Her books were on the shelves in the screening room. She flicked the light switch as she entered and had a fleeting sense that something was different but the thought faded before she could identify what she'd felt. It took several minutes to find her reference book on ornamental woodwork, and by the time she had it, she was aware of an increasing edginess. Time to go, time to go.
As she went back into the living room her cell rang. She glanced at the number and stopped, punching the answer button. "Dink."
"Hey, babe, how's it going?"
Her hand tightened and she fought off the need to let every scary, horrible thing tumble from her lips. "Ah... it's been pretty hairy here. Lots of stuff going on." She couldn't even remember what she'd told him. We talked yesterday, right?
"You sound weird. Spacey. You sure you're okay?"
Brenna felt a tingle down her spine and started walking toward the stairs. "We found a journal, it belonged to the woman who started this place. What she wrote about freaked us out and we're trying to deal with some of the new info."
"What about your work?" Dink's voice was cutting in and out, tinny and fading.
"I haven't done much yet, with all the ghost stuff. It's been too crazy."
"Ghost stuff?" He sounded as if he was in a well.
She took the stairs up to the bedroom two at a time. At the top she walked into a cloud of scent and the familiarity of it almost brought her to her knees. Wind Song. Her grandmother's perfume.
Brenna breathed in the fragrance. "Gran?"
She barely heard Dink calling her name as her hand fell to her side. "Gran, are you here?"
The air began to chill.
Chapter 24
Max had his arms wrapped around Kerry, who couldn't stop shivering. "Though it goes against my training," he said lightly, "you most likely had a muscle spasm or one of those odd starts we all feel now and again."
Ker
ry shook her head. "I felt it as surely as I feel your arms now." She caught Aura Lee's eyes. "Does it feel colder in here to you?"
"Yes, it does." Aura Lee took a throw from the basket near the fireplace and wrapped it around her shoulders. Her gaze darted about, searching the shadows in the corners.
"You're scaring each other." Rose glanced at her watch. "I wish Brenna would get back here. She's been gone a long time for just picking up her book and camera."
"No doubt she was distracted by something," Noreen tut-tutted. "She'll be back soon."
Rose went into the kitchen and looked out the window but saw nothing but leaves blowing across the cobblestone courtyard. She went back to the living room and leaned in at the arch. "I don't see her. I'll go check to make sure she's okay."
Andrea glanced up from the book in her lap. "You want me to come along?"
"No, that's okay. I'm being mother-hennish. Can't help it. I'll be right back."
The wind had picked up even more, blowing its chilly breath down the neck of Rose's sweatshirt. Clouds were gathering over the Flatirons, quenching the afternoon sun. Rose shivered as she scanned the area. Something was wrong. She didn't know what it was, but her heart was pumping faster and she felt like running. Something dangerous had been near.
Rose took the steps to the associate house door two at a time and slid her key into the lock. Immediately she smelled an odd, metallic odor that made her cough.
"Brenna!" She ran to her door and grasped the knob. It was locked. "Brenna!" Her hands were shaking enough to hinder her using the key. Finally she pushed it in and turned it, shoving open the door. She almost tripped over Brenna's body, lying in a limp pile like a load of laundry.
Rose knelt beside her. "Brenna, Brenna." She patted her cheek, then turned her onto her back and placed her ear against her chest. When she heard the slow, slight beat, her breath whooshed out in relief.
"Oh, my God," Rose muttered. "Oh, my God." She speed-dialed the Wisdom Court number and waited in a fever of impatience for someone to answer. "Andrea, get over here—Brenna's place. She's unconscious. I'll call an ambulance and you call the fire department. I can't tell if there's a fire, but it smells strange and—just call them." She bent over Brenna once more.
* * *
Kerry watched the ambulance roar from the courtyard, lights flashing. Rose had opted to ride to the hospital with Brenna, who was still objecting to the journey as the door slammed shut. The firemen had come and gone, somewhat upset at finding nothing related to a fire. "What in the world will happen next?"
"Take it out of the law," Aura Lee said quickly. Her eyes puckered with worry. "Don't ask a question like that. It's an invitation to the Universe to answer it. And you won't necessarily care for the response."
Kerry started to answer sharply, but thought better of it. For all she knew, Aura Lee might have a point. Life was getting way too weird. "I'll keep that in mind," she said. "Let's go take another look at Brenna's place. Rose wants us to see if we can find anything. Brenna was basically out of it. It would help if we could figure out what went on in there."
Aura Lee led the way up the stairs to the west associate house and pushed the door open. "Do you smell smoke?" Kerry asked as they entered the hallway.
"I smell something." Aura Lee sniffed several times. "Not much, but there's a tinge in the air, sort of like the ozone smell you get when there's an electrical short."
"Wonder what it could've come from." Kerry pushed open Brenna's door and went inside, eyes darting around the room. "It looks okay in here, but who knows?"
"I'll take the kitchen and you can check around here." Aura Lee brushed by the plants in the foyer and stopped beside the sofa. "Look at this."
"What?" Kerry went to her side and saw what appeared to be gray jelly on the back of the couch. "What is it, food? Did she take time for a snack, do you think?"
Aura Lee bent to the leather and sniffed directly above the substance. "Yuck, I hope not. It smells like a combination of bad wiring and rotten eggs."
Kerry saw more of the stuff on the floor. "Let's get a sandwich bag and pick it up. If nothing else, we can run it by Jerri, see if it's organic."
Aura Lee smiled. "It almost feels like we're on one of those forensic shows. You know, CSI or Bones."
"Yeah, I guess." Kerry peered more closely at the gloppy substance. "Bring a spoon or something, will you? I don't want to touch this."
Aura Lee headed for the kitchen and came back with a bag and a butter knife, along with a wad of paper towels she handed to Kerry. She scraped the knife across the leather back, getting most of the gluey mess, and stuck it in the bag along with it. "We don't want to destroy evidence."
"Right." Kerry had wiped up the mess on the floor and tossed it in the nearby wastebasket. She took the bag and turned toward the stairs. "I'll leave our evidence on the table here. See what you can find in the kitchen while I look upstairs, okay?"
"Okay."
Kerry set the bag down and went to the stairway, turning on the light switch. Nothing happened. "Huh." She glanced up the steps, hoping for some light at the top, but the shadows were deep and she couldn't make out anything on the landing. "Creepy," she muttered and started climbing, holding fast to the railing. She'd turn on the hall light when she got up there.
Halfway up she heard a soft thud and then another. She stopped. Listening as hard as she could, barely breathing, Kerry waited. As the moments ticked off, the hairs on the back of her neck rose. She looked over her shoulder and saw how far the stairs behind her extended back to the doorway to the living room. Wait, it's not that far, that doesn't make any sense. Frozen air surrounded her, went through her, creeping into her bones, and she knew without doubt that if she had the light to see it, her breath would be as visible as smoke. She heard a creak on the stairs above her, like someone trying to sneak down ancient steps. Time to get the hell out of here.
Kerry tried to let go of the railing, tried to turn back toward the faraway foot of the stairwell.
Kerry, she told herself, lift your hand, raise your foot. C'mon get out!
She couldn't move.
She felt the cold settle inside her, curling up in her body, making her its permanent home.
She sank deeper into the frost.
* * *
Aura Lee stood in front of the kitchen windows, wondering why Brenna had taped Christmas wrapping paper across the lower panes. Not that the snowmen cavorting across the snowy landscape weren't cheerful, but Christmas was three months away. Was Brenna one of those people who celebrated the holiday all year long? "Ah well," she muttered, "no harm done."
Aura Lee wasn't quite sure what she was looking for. Brenna had been so confused about what had happened before she'd fainted. She couldn't recall anything specific that could have triggered the black out. There isn't always a particular cause. Sometimes you just react to the energies in a room. She thought of the sounds she'd heard in her bedroom and the fingers struggling to reach through her silver tray. I wouldn't have minded fainting after that experience.
Aura Lee looked along the countertops, half-expecting to find more of the gelatinous substance they'd bagged in the living room. Nothing. Opening a drawer at random, she rifled through napkins and placemats, and closed it again. The problem, as she saw it, was the subjective nature of receiving transmissions from spirits on the Other Side. Each person was prone to noticing certain things over others. Like tendencies in intellectual pursuits and what music a person preferred, the manifestations of the dead were apt to be detected by the living who shared their abilities and choices. It just made sense.
Aura Lee ran her fingers across the cupboard doors, stopping to open them and check their condition. All were neat and clean, so far. Brenna hadn't moved much of anything. Of course, she might be eating take-out every night, but it was only fair to take the evidence as it lay. Tidy cabinets usually meant a reasonable degree of cleanliness.
Aura Lee peered around the room, focusing on details. Sur
ely I can find a hint of something. Maybe cans disarranged on the shelves, like Rose's fountain rocks. She shivered and pulled the edges of her sari up a little higher around her neck. The sun was currently shining, but the air inside was cold.
The pantry showed no evidence of supernatural messages in the way the cans were stacked. Aura Lee narrowed her eyes in thought. The kitchen was a bust. If any self-respecting shade had been at work, there'd be signs of occupancy. She hadn't heard anything, hadn't seen anything. An acrid scent drifted across her nostrils, the ozone odor again, stronger this time. Maybe there actually was a short in a wire. She pulled her reading glasses out of her capacious pocket and planted them on her nose. She would check every electrical device in the place to make sure they didn't have to call the fire department again.
She began with the countertop appliances: toaster, coffeemaker, and electric teakettle, all fine. Then came the larger items.
She'd never fully appreciated how many electrical outlets there were. Cottie had planned well when she'd helped design the associate houses. The rooms were spacious and comfortable, and had more than enough spots for lamps and electronic gear. Everything had been easy to adapt when personal computers became the norm.
Aura Lee pushed herself off the floor and shoved the bookcase behind the sofa back against the wall. No problems with the shelf lights there. She was deciding where to check next when she caught something moving from the corner of her eye. She whirled in time to see a blur speed through the door to the kitchen. Was it a mouse?
Aura Lee didn't like mice. She strode into the kitchen, intent on catching it. Something fluttered at the edge of the refrigerator and she hurried to grab the broom hanging in the pantry. She used it to poke behind the fridge, pushing along the bottom, trying to drive the creature out into the open. Focused on her prey, she didn't see the shadow oozing from behind the appliance, sliding across the floor.
Hearing a sharp cry from the living room she dropped the broom. As she left the kitchen, she saw a gray mist floating toward the stairs. "By the Goddess." The temperature dropped again, becoming unbearably cold.
A Signal Shown Page 17
