Lacey was pulled from her musings by Sam opening the refrigerator.
“Wanna have some lunch?”
Lacey glanced at her watch: after twelve. “Yeah, I guess. Jeez, where did the morning go?”
“Time flies,” he said. “Especially when we’ve both got our noses to the grindstone.”
Lacey rotated her shoulders; yes, they were stiff from her almost constant crouch. She pushed away from her laptop and stood up. “Can I see what you’ve done?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
While he continued to peruse the contents of the fridge, Lacey went to the dining room to see his progress. She was pleasantly surprised. One bowl had an intricate geometric design in striking red and black—repeating diamonds and running zigzags spread across the entire inside of the shallow bowl. Another jar was mostly done, similar patterns sketched in pencil all around the outside, more than half of it painted in. Lacey couldn’t be sure, not having any earlier pieces there to compare, but she thought the patterns looked more dramatic, the colors bolder. She thought they were stunning.
“Hey, I’m impressed,” she said as she joined Sam in the kitchen. He’d pulled out bread, lunch meat and cheese.
“Yeah?” Next he got the mayo and mustard.
“Yeah. Are you doing anything different? Those look… I don’t know, bigger, bolder.” She hauled out the jug of iced tea.
“I am, actually. I decided to make the lines wider so there’s less white space. You like it?”
“I do. I think it looks great.”
“Yeah, I’m happy with it. You want turkey or ham?”
“Turkey. You’ve made good progress, too. You shouldn’t have any trouble finishing those before Friday.”
“Nope, shouldn’t. Now we’ll just have to hope the firings go okay.” He pulled four slices of bread from the wrapper. “What about you? Making any headway?”
“Mmm, maybe,” she said cautiously. “I’m learning about Jean Hawkes, the woman who owned the house before, but I haven’t heard back from her daughter to know if there were any manifestations before the Reeds bought the place. I’ve got a hunch about it, but that’s all it is until I can get some confirmation. Maybe she’ll call me this weekend. Hey, do you think we should postpone the walk tomorrow? That’ll cut into the already tight schedule on getting all your pottery done.”
Sam smeared mayo over the bread, his brow creased with thought. “Nah. I’ve got time. And I already told the kids we’d pick them up later in the afternoon. We can go ahead and do the walk. It shouldn’t take long.”
“Okay. I just don’t want you to be squeezed on time.” She filled their glasses with iced tea and set down the jug, then, on impulse, went to her husband and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so sorry about all the pieces that were destroyed. All that work for nothing.”
He put aside the knife and pulled her close, his lips at her temple. “Thanks. It was pretty painful at first, I’ll admit, seeing all those broken pieces on the floor. I put a lot of my soul into those, not to mention the time and effort. It really did feel like an attack.” He sighed. “I certainly never saw it coming.”
“How could you?” she asked. “I’ve been going over our old cases in my mind, trying to figure who it might be, but I just draw a blank.”
“Yeah, me, too,” he admitted. “I hate to say it, but I’ve been thinking of putting up surveillance cameras around the studio. Maybe getting an alarm system. I hate that, though. Just the idea of having to go to those measures, of having to suspect people in my sacred space… feels wrong. It really messes with the ethers.”
Lacey nodded, her cheek against the softness of his t-shirt. She wouldn’t pretend to understand how Sam experienced the world, especially the unseen portions of it, but she could understand that contrast. Sam’s studio was his sacred space, his place to commune with his ancestors and the gods in order to create something new in the world; having to worry about invasion and violation would throw that all out of kilter.
“We don’t have to rush into that,” she said. “We’ll see what the police come up with, see how the investigation goes. Hopefully it’s an isolated incident.” She tipped her head up at him. “And now whoever it is knows he’s up against Theodora, so with any luck, he won’t try that again.”
“Funny. Never thought we’d have a ‘watch ghost’.”
Lacey chuckled. That’s a first, huh?”
“Definitely.” He dipped his head and kissed her. “But thanks for sympathizing.”
“Anytime,” she said. She laid her head against his chest again. “I love you.”
He squeezed her slender body. “I love you, too. Partners always.”
“Always. Even in turkey sandwiches. Let’s eat.”
~~~
EIGHT
Saturday afternoon, they drove back out to Kagel Canyon for the walk outside. It had already been a good day. Sam had completed a third traditional piece and when they’d gone back to the studio to clean up after the investigation, they had found a few unbroken pieces in the mess on the floor. Heartened by the good luck, they had swept up the broken pieces and sorted them by glazed or unglazed bits to use again as temper when he mixed up more clay. Even destroyed, they would be used again.
Lacey powered her little red Rav4 up the canyon, familiar now with the twists and turns of the road. She could see the attraction. Compared to the traffic and congestion of the LA basin, these foothill communities seemed almost pastoral; lots of green trees and lawns, flowers blooming, and a distinct lack of crowds.
The Reeds were waiting for them. Price stood outside spraying water on the flower beds that edged the front lawn, and Vicky waited just inside the screen door. As Sam and Lacey came up the front steps, Vicky pushed open the door and Price followed them inside.
“Hello,” Vicky said. “Thanks so much for coming back.” She led them into the living room, but no one sat.
“Have you had any change in the manifestations since we were here?” Sam glanced up the stairs while Lacey got her phone out of her pack.
“Uh, not that we’ve noticed,” Vicky said. “Should we have?”
Sam shrugged. “Sometimes the entities are comforted just knowing that someone has heard them and acknowledged them. But not always. It doesn’t matter. Where should we start?”
Price led the way through the kitchen to the back door. The four of them stepped out onto a brick patio with brightly colored rattan furniture and a serene view of the large, grassy yard.
“Wow, nice yard,” Lacey said. “It’s huge.”
“Almost an acre,” Price said. “This was one of the main selling points. We thought it’d be the perfect place for the girls to play, and for parties and barbecues.”
“I’ll say.” She turned to Sam. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
He nodded and hooked a thumb toward the back behind the house. “Let’s go that way.”
Leaving Price and Vicky to watch from the patio, Sam set out across the lawn, Lacey beside him. He reached the back corner of the house and looked up at the second-story windows.
“Whatever she saw that was so devastating, she saw out that window,” he said, pointing up toward the office. He turned his back to the house and looked out over the expanse of lawn. “And whatever it was, it happened out there.”
He stood for a moment, soaking in the invisible vibrations. Lacey recognized the narrowed eyes, the flaring nostrils as he attuned all his senses to the metaphysical impressions.
“This way,” he said.
He struck off toward the back of the property. A dog-eared cedar fence separated the Reeds’ yard from the one behind it, and as sturdy as the fence was, it was gray with age. Sam strode for it, his steps quick at first, but then slowing as he crossed the span. When he was thirty feet from the fence, he stopped.
The grass had thinned, and the strip of ground that bordered the fence was more rock and dirt than greenery. Just a few feet from the fence was a large flat slab of concrete.
<
br /> “Danger,” Sam said. “Not safe. Death.” He took a few tentative steps forward and stopped again. “It’s there,” he said, pointing to the concrete slab. “But more. The ground falling out from under.” Again he moved closer, closer.
Lacey didn’t like it. She was just about to ask him to stop when he raised one foot, put it out in front of him, and was abruptly slammed to the ground.
“Sam!” She ran to him, but before she could reach him, he held up a hand to ward her off.
“Stop right there. Don’t come any closer.”
She stopped reluctantly, only because she knew she could put them both in danger.
“What is it?” she asked. She raised her phone again, focusing it on Sam.
“It’s a hole. It’s under that concrete, but it’s bigger than that. Eating away at the edges. Growing wider. When I got too close, she pushed me away. She’s not attacking; she’s guarding. Protecting.”
Protecting what, Lacey wondered. A hole in the ground?
“Irreconcilable grief,” Sam said, “but fierce determination. Never again. Never again. She will not fail again.”
For a moment, Sam sat quietly on the ground, arms out, his whole body open and receptive to the feelings that imbued the area. Eyes closed, he breathed it in. He pulled in deep breaths, held them, let them out slowly. Finally he pushed himself up off the ground and walked to Lacey.
“Okay, that’s all. Come on; we have to warn Price and Vicky.”
He strode back to the patio, Lacey beside him. The Reeds had taken seats on the patio furniture, and the girls had joined them. Sam and Lacey took two of the remaining chairs.
“You’ve got a problem over there,” Sam said abruptly. “I don’t know what that concrete slab is out there, but it’s dangerous.”
Price frowned. “That’s covering an old well. When we had the house inspected, they said it was secure.”
“Not anymore,” Sam said. “The hole is growing wider, eating out the edges. The ghost wasn’t attacking your girls; she was protecting them, saving them from walking on unstable ground.” He looked to the children. “When you were knocked down”—nodding to Tansy—“and your hair was pulled”—to Melody—“were you out there by that slab of concrete?”
Melody’s eyes widened. Tansy was already nodding vigorously.
“Okay, good. I want you girls to stay away from that part of the yard, okay? That’s very dangerous out there.” He turned to Price. “I’d suggest you call in an engineer from the water department or an environmental expert and have that whole back area assessed. Just make sure you tell them to be careful. That ground could give way at any time.”
Vicky put a hand to her throat. “Is the house in danger?”
“I don’t think so,” Sam said. “I believe the unstable ground is confined to the area around the well. But I’m not an engineer. Maybe they can fill it in or something, keep it from growing any larger. I don’t know. But you should call someone in as soon as possible.”
“A-all right,” Price stuttered, shocked at the revelation. “So the ghost isn’t… evil? Isn’t dangerous?”
“Not at all,” Sam said. “She’s been keeping the girls safe in the only way she could. It appeared like an attack but it was really just her way of stopping them from stepping on the unstable ground. She very probably saved them from harm.”
Lacey saw the stunned alarm in the eyes of both parents. Sam had not spoken of the ultimate harm—death—but it was not hard to imagine. The thought of their children so close to disaster was obviously distressing. Vicky swallowed painfully.
“So now,” Sam continued, “we need to figure out the story behind the ghost. Some trauma ties her here; once we know what that was, we can release her. Then you’ll have some peace as well.”
“How long does that typically take?” Price asked.
Sam shrugged. “Depends. Days; maybe a week or two at the most. Lacey’s already been reaching out for information. We’ll gather the facts as quickly as we can. But at least now you know the ghost doesn’t pose a threat. You can relax on that score.”
Both Price and Vicky nodded with grateful relief. Her eyes strayed to her daughters.
“All right,” Sam said. “We’ll let you get back to your Saturday. We’ll keep you posted as soon as we know anything.” He stood, and Lacey followed. “Oh, and let me know what you find out about the well, okay?”
“Sure,” Price said, escorting them back into the house. “I’ll do some calling first thing Monday morning.”
“Yeah, don’t wait on that.”
“I won’t.” Price stuck his hand out. “Thanks so much. I can’t tell you how much we appreciate this.”
“Happy to help,” Sam said. “We’ll be in touch.”
~~~
NINE
On their way back home, Lacey swung by the kids’ apartment. Kenzie met them at the door while Daniel and his girlfriend, Tori, waited on the couch.
Kenzie, still a snugglebug at ten, hugged both Sam and Lacey. She already had her backpack ready for the weekend. She and Daniel shared their dad’s coloring, the warm copper skin and blue-black hair.
“Hi, sweetie,” Lacey said. She waved to Daniel and Tori and wouldn’t think of subjecting the fourteen-year-old to a hug. He’d die of embarrassment.
Christine, Sam’s ex, stuck her head out of the kitchen. “Hi, guys.” She wiped a plate with a dish towel.
“Hi,” Sam said. “Hey, I don’t remember us having three kids. I think the custody and visitation agreement only mentions two.”
Tori grinned at him. Daniel rolled his eyes. “Package deal, Dad,” he said. “Either she goes or I stay.”
Sam crossed his arms and frowned as if considering the ultimatum. “Well,” he said after a moment, “I guess she can come. What the heck. Come on.”
As the kids trooped out the door, Tori gave Lacey a quick hug and accepted Sam’s hand on her shoulder with a happy laugh. She and Daniel ran for the car hand in hand.
“Bye.” Sam waved to Christine. “See you tomorrow.”
“Have fun.”
The three kids swarmed into the back seat of the car, Daniel and Kenzie both tossing packs into the wayback. Lacey heard three clicks—four, counting Sam’s—and started the car.
“So how’s the first week of school?” she asked. She wheeled out of the parking lot and headed toward home.
“It’s great,” Kenzie said. “I already had one spelling test and got an A.”
“Good job,” Sam said. He angled his head back toward Daniel. “What about you two?”
“It’s okay,” Tori said.
Daniel made growling noises.
“Oh?” Sam said.
Daniel huffed. “I’ve got old weird Mr. Barnard for literature. He’s horrible. He takes up the whole period going on and on about mythology. Who cares?”
“I love mythology,” Lacey said, meeting Daniel’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
“Me, too.” Tori grinned at Daniel.
“Better pay attention,” Sam cautioned. “Could be a babe magnet.”
Daniel just grumbled.
As soon as they entered the apartment, all three kids gravitated toward the dining room table and Sam’s in-progress work.
“What’s going on?” Daniel asked. “You’re not working in the studio?”
“Not for a few days.” Sam gave them a brief summary of the break-in. Lacey was glad for his even tone and low-key description. The kids didn’t need to experience the violation the adults had been witness to.
“So what are you going to do?” Daniel pressed. “Your open house is Friday, right?”
“Right. I’ll just work mostly here this week, and wait until Friday to take everything down to the studio. I need to do two firings, though, so I’ll have to hang around for those. I’ve also got to replace that door. I’ll be going back and forth.”
“Tell the kids what Theodora did,” Lacey said. She knew they’d love that. And they did. Tori’s eyes widene
d in amazement, but Kenzie just giggled. Daniel’s jaw dropped.
“Do you know who he is?”
“No idea,” Sam said. “We’ll see what the police can figure out. They’ve definitely got DNA. We’ll just have to see if they can come up with a match. Okay, so what’s everybody feel like doing tonight?”
Lacey stepped in. “Well, we obviously can’t eat dinner at the table, so I vote for going out for pizza and a movie. Who’s with me?”
The ayes had it.
~~~
The movie was a welcome bit of respite, two hours of brainless mayhem surrounding the latest superhero. Afterwards, they took Tori home and returned to the apartment where Kenzie examined her dad’s artwork more closely.
“Do you think I could learn to do that?” she asked him.
Sam’s eyes gleamed with pleasant surprise. “You’ve already been making a few things,” he said. “But you mean…?”
“Paint like that. Can you show me how you do it?”
Lacey saw the quiet satisfaction on Sam’s face. Perhaps the family art would be carried on by yet another generation.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get some water and brushes and I’ll show you what I do.”
Lacey took a seat on the couch near Daniel. “Looks like it might be a late night,” she said, nodding toward the art lesson.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“So I’m curious,” she said. “How’s things at school? Was it kind of tough going back without your buddy Jason?”
Daniel’s best friend, Jason Perez, had been shot and killed by a disgruntled older student just the week before school let out, and coupled with his grief, Daniel had discovered—unhappily—that he’d inherited his father’s mediumistic talent. They’d all appreciated the summer break to give Daniel time to adjust to the new normal.
“It was weird,” Daniel said, holding a throw pillow in his lap. He ran one finger over the design of the fabric and didn’t look up.
Revenge Walk Page 5
