by Kim Hornsby
“How does she know it’s me?” Jimmy whispered, probably gesturing towards me.
“She hears better than anyone I know, including Hodor.” Eve didn’t lower her voice.
I added. “Also, Jimmy-Boy, I’m a psychic, remember?”
Eve set her hand on my shoulder on her way to the coffee pot, squeezing gently. “Namaste, Cousin.”
After my sexy dream, I had love on the brain and my clairvoyance picked up on a vibration of something romantic between Eve and my private investigator. They were heading towards a whole lot of kissing and hugging if they hadn’t already.
“The coffee pot is almost empty. How long have you been sitting there?” Eve asked.
“An hour or two,” I said. “I woke early enough to start bugging my mother about moving out of my bedroom now that her swipe left is coming for the weekend. She must’ve gone back to sleep though.”
Hodor nudged my hand and I scratched that twirly-haired place under his ear. If my dog was confused as to how I could see sometimes and be so useless other times, I got nothing from him to suggest that. Going with the flow and happiness were two things Hodor excelled at.
“What time will GQ show his face?” Eve asked.
Now that my psychic mojo was on overdrive again, I detected a current of dread in my cousin’s question. “At half past you’re under arrest Rachel Primrose for messing with an investigation,” I said.
Eve laughed. “If he’s late, it might be more like, quarter to all three of you are going to the slammer,” Eve countered.
If anyone was going to jail for lying to a cop, I had to hope it would be my lovely mother who had very little regard for the law. I hoped it wasn’t Eve because she was innocent in all this. After Rachel had lured Eve to her house, she’d taken her next door to the crime scene to do a reading. I’d already given my mother a big fat nothing, even when I’d held my hands over Mrs. G’s bed, a piece of furniture I now believed the victim occupied during her murder. At that time in my recuperation from a horrendous accident, I was a psychic dud, with nothing coming through from the other side. But Eve wasn’t and that night sensed a poisoning had taken place. Eve then made the mistake of not filtering absolutely everything she told my mother before it was used and twisted to suit Rachel’s agenda.
Jimmy pulled out a kitchen chair on my left and sat nearby, presumably with a cup of coffee. Eve was only three steps behind him, moving to sit on my right. Next thing I noticed was that Jimmy was a slurper, something I was going to have to learn to live with if he and Eve were a thing.
“What’s the plan when the fuzz shows up?” Eve asked. “I have always wanted to say that to someone,” she added incredulously. “Who’s going to take the fall,” Eve said in a gangster voice.
At that moment I felt slightly sorry for Jimmy, who’d stumbled into this group by accident when we needed someone cheap to do PI work. “Jimmy, do you know the situation?”
“You can’t just nod at her,” Eve gently advised Jimmy. “He does know the situation,” Eve said over top of Jimmy saying, “yes.” Confiding in Jimmy about the Mrs. G situation verified that Eve and Jimmy were closer than friends. I’d obviously not been paying enough attention in the house lately, too wrapped up in my own problems while Jimmy and Eve were running around in love and maybe even sharing one of those big, lonely bedrooms upstairs.
“I haven’t got a concrete plan yet,” I said, “but I’m thinking about using a collection of clever sentences to not really lie but also not reveal that the real criminal, Rachel, is a big fat liar. I’m wondering how long I’ll be able to keep that going. I know a lot of words and can probably last the weekend by being evasive.” My coffee was getting lukewarm and I took my small mug to the coffee pot and poured more in.
“As the psychic who informed Aunt Rachel that Mrs. G was definitely murdered by poison, I guess I need to figure out my part in all this.” Eve was perplexed. She hated to lie, was honest to a fault, but she was also very family-oriented and loyal and wouldn’t like the idea of throwing my mother under the bus. Even if it was only the romantic bus. There was always the possibility that lying to a policeman you’re sleeping with isn’t a crime.
Eve continued. “Do you think Ron would charge Aunt Rachel if he gets wise to our subterfuge?”
“I don’t really know him,” I said. “I guess I’ll wait until he gets here, then see what vibes I get.”
“If anything,” Eve whispered.
Eve’s last words confirmed she had no idea my freaky mojo was back and better than ever. At least, I didn’t think she did. Living among psychics was always tricky.
So was keeping secrets.
Chapter 2
You could tell that my mother was waiting for her boyfriend by the way her voice had already taken on a flirty tone. That, and the strong odor of White Diamonds by Elizabeth Taylor in the air. Rachel used a different perfume for each boyfriend, something I found curious, and her spring fling had inspired her to wear copious amounts of White Diamonds. Maybe the name of the perfume was suggestive, and my mother was hoping Ron would give her some real diamonds.
When I heard my mother’s footsteps approach the front door, her scent permeating every room in the house, I knew Ron must’ve arrived. The door closed, there was a giggle and a squeal, shuffling, and then heavier footsteps sounded alongside my mother’s lighter than light steps. I imagined her hanging off Ron’s arm, like she does, thereby eliminating the need for her shoes to touch the floor with much force. I’d met Ron once before and had made the mistake of later asking my mother what he looked like, already hearing Eve’s description.
“Smokin’ hot, hunk of a police officer,” she’d bragged.
I’d cringed to hear my mother describe her boyfriend this way then remembered that Rachel was still young enough to attract good-looking, younger men. In the man world, she might be thought of as a Cougar or a MILF being mid-forties with offspring. Rachel often went for the handsome ones unless they had so much money that the liver spots and hair tufts in their ears got cancelled out by a bank card. The last time I saw my mother closeup, which was only last week, she had very few facial wrinkles, a trait I was hoping to inherit from her. If I was a man, I might find her long dark hair and cat-like eyes attractive. She wore dresses and boots most days, making her look like a sexy librarian type.
“Bryndle, Evelyn, Everyone! Ron has arrived!” my mother trilled from the foyer like we were all supposed to run out of our respective rooms and greet the weekend guest with a choreographed song and dance like in The Sound of Music.
I was working in the den, talking to Carlos about our next case, a haunted hotel in Portland, Oregon, we would visit on Monday night. I considered getting up and tapping my way to the foyer with my cane, but then thought it would be easier for the sighted people to come to me. Blindness had some privileges. Not many, but a few. “I’m in here,” I yelled. “Now would be a good time, Caspian,” I whispered to the space in front of my face. I wanted to see my mother’s latest conquest and if Caspian showed up, I’d finally be able to.
“How long has it been since you saw Caspian?” Carlos whispered nearby. I’d forgotten my tech guy was so close.
“Four days, twelve hours and fifty-eight minutes,” I answered. I wasn’t sure about the minutes unless I asked my phone what time it was but added them for impact. I was all about the drama and effect, and that’s what made me perfect for having a successful YouTube show. I was a performer as much as a medium.
I stood and found my way around to the front of the desk as the happy couple entered the room and closed in on me. “Hello, Ron. Welcome.” I stuck out my hand knowing Ron was within ten feet. He took my hand, covered it with his other and pulled me in for a hug. I’d forgotten that Rachel said he was a hugger, something I was not.
“Bryndle, nice to see you again,” he said.
Ron smelled like very expensive cologne and I immediately wondered if he was on the take.
“Nice to see you too,” I said,
just to make him uncomfortable for using that terminology. “Did you have any trouble finding the house?”
“None at all. The address is on Google Maps. This is quite a place you inherited.” He was nervous, something that made me happy, because I was not.
I attempted to look at his face, just above where the words were coming from.
“Isn’t it? Rachel will have to give you the tour. This is Carlos, my technical assistant,” I waved in the direction of Carlos’s asthmatic breathing.
The men shook hands or did something I assumed was shaking hands judging by the shuffling and grunting hello.
“Your mother tells me that you’re working on a case in this house,” Ron said. “A murder.”
Oh, now Rachel was really in trouble. I tried to shoot her one of my looks that says I’ll deal with you later, but I had no idea where she was. The whole room smelled like White Diamonds now. “We’re not sure if it was a murder but yes, there’s an ongoing paranormal investigation in the house. Don’t worry about disturbing the crime scene though, because this crime was one hundred and seventy years ago.” I laughed at my cop joke.
Ron chuckled, and I located my mother when she giggled with him. “I’ll leave the fingerprinting kit in my car,” he said.
“Yes, do. Unless you want to check my mother for priors.” It was one of my faults that I thrived on messing with people. Rachel had a few visits to the police station on her record and I wondered if Ron knew that. Before the thought of fingerprinting my mother set in Ron’s mind I continued. “Would you like to sit and have a cup of tea or coffee by the fire,?” I asked to change the subject. I didn’t want to talk to Ron about Caspian’s death or the other ghosts in the house who’d all presumably died on the property and I was buying time.
“I’m going to show Ron around first,” my mother said in a girlishly high voice. “We’ll round back here eventually.” I could tell she was upset about my crack about her having priors.
“Catch you later,” I said.
They didn’t want to sit and talk first thing. I wasn’t expected to entertain him or talk to him about Mrs. G’s death. Not quite yet. The two lovebirds left the room but the scent of my mother in love lingered. Now that my sixth sense was operating in full capacity I was left with several concepts as Rachel and Ron talked their way across the foyer. One was that my mother was head over heels for this man and the other was that Ron was keeping her at bay, harboring a big secret from her, something he was guarding very carefully.
“He’s got a secret,” I said to Carlos forgetting that I hadn’t told anyone that Caspian somehow had restored my abilities.
Carlos chuckled. “He’s a cop. I’m sure he has lots.”
***
When Eve and Jimmy Big Ears returned from town with groceries, there was more giggling. Now Eve was giggling, and I sensed that love was in the air between my cousin and Carlos’s childhood friend who had abnormally large earlobes.
Weeks ago, when we first brought Jimmy in to help with my archenemy, Bane Jackson, the paranormal debunker, Eve had alluded to Jimmy being attractive if it wasn’t for the ears. And recently, I’d become aware that she’d developed some sort of friendship with Jimmy. For the twentieth time that day, I was wishing I had eyesight to pick up on all those little clues and nuances that eluded me without seeing them together. I could hear them putting groceries away and the fridge door opening and closing from two rooms away, the kitchen like an echo chamber that amplified conversations throughout the house.
I found my way across the foyer and to the hall to inquire about dinner. And to do a little eavesdropping. TapTap took me along as I sang. “I’m running down the road trying to loosen a toad with several women on my mind, four who wanna tone me, two who won a Sony, one says Pete’s a friend of mine.”
I tapped the last few bars of music to the doorway. “Did we make a plan for dinner tonight?” I was sure that something was on the menu if they went to town for groceries.
“Jimmy and I are going to attempt to make his grandmother’s recipe, Chicken Parmesan. I say attempt because I totally suck in the kitchen, news flash, but I’m hoping Jimmy’s Italian kitchen skills will balance me out.” Yes, they were definitely flirty and fun around each other. Unlike Rachel, I was happy for Eve.
I leaned against the doorjamb and tried to look casual. “That sounds fantastic. I love Chicken Parm. BTW, Ron has arrived and judging from his hug, he’s a big guy and might eat a lot.”
“We crossed paths on the way in. They went to the beach to make a sandcastle or something,” Eve said.
“Did they take Hodor?” I hadn’t heard my dog’s nails clicking on the floor recently.
“They did,” Jimmy offered. “When your mother grabbed her coat, Hodor raced to the door.”
I couldn’t help but remember a time last week, walking with Caspian on the beach below the cliff. I could still see him throwing sticks for Hodor as if he was a neighbor who’d dropped by on his way to a costume party wearing old-timey garb. Of course, Hodor couldn’t see who was throwing the sticks and didn’t care. As far as he knew, the sticks were levitating and throwing themselves into the sea and down the beach.
So much had happened since then, including a kiss followed by Caspian’s disappearance. Remember me, he’d said. Words that now haunted me for several reasons.
What did it mean?
Was I supposed to keep the dream alive during Caspian’s absence, or was I supposed to dig deep into my memory and try to remember something about Caspian from the days I met him as a child? Those two words could mean lots of things and these days, I felt sort of tormented in trying to figure out the mystery. Did Caspian know he was disappearing and might never come back when he uttered the words? I might never know if he didn’t return. It hadn’t been weeks, but since I met Caspian, he’d shown up regularly. And then he hadn’t.
Now that my mother had moved to another bedroom, my plan was to sit by the fireplace in my bedroom tonight, trying to summon Caspian. That, or walk around the house in the dark, then up to the third floor where I first caught sight of the sea captain skulking around doorways to remain undetected. If I had to sit there every night waiting and hoping, I would, but damn, that would be boring.
Remember me.
There was no way I wouldn’t remember Caspian, even if he’d vanished, never to return. And it wasn’t necessarily the kiss that I’d remember. It was the overwhelming feeling that I knew Caspian better than our short relationship in Cove House suggested. Was that what I was supposed to remember? I imagined Caspian returning to laugh and tell me that he’d merely wanted me to think of him between visits.
“Bryn?” Eve’s voice broke through my daydream. “Did you hear me say that Mrs. Hightower is coming to tea in an hour?”
I hadn’t heard. I’d called Joan several times since she went running out of the house at our haunted dinner party last week, but she hadn’t called back. When Eve said she was headed to town to grocery shop earlier, I’d asked her to drop in on the museum curator to see if Joan would attempt another visit. Give us yet another chance. “Tell her this time,” I said to Eve, “to come during the day.” Although ghosts prefer the dead of night, the ones in this house--Caspian and his wife, Jacqueline--also materialized during the daylight hours leaving me to believe that Cove House, or Spook Central, as I liked to think of it, was a round-the-clock, 24/7 ghostly hang out.
“Tea with Joan sounds good,” I said. I had questions for Joan Hightower today and if I got closer to getting some answers, I just might be able to lure Caspian back to this world with information about how he died.
Chapter 3
It was almost better I couldn’t see Joan Hightower when she stepped inside Spook Central. Even saying hello, Joan sounded like she believed I might eat her alive at any moment. Her voice quivered when I asked if she’d like tea in the den or the salon.
“The den will be fine,” she whispered nervously. The last time Joan visited, the piano had played itself un
der the hands of Eve who was inhabited by the ghost of Jacqueline and although I wasn’t present at the concert, I heard the clicking of Joan’s heels as she made a hurried exit for the door.
I led the way to the den, TapTap sweeping arcs in front to alert me to all sorts of things as well as obstacles. Joan was silent as she followed me to the den. I, on the other hand, had a new song to tap out quietly so Joan wouldn’t hear.
“I remember when rock was young, feelin’ boozy and had some fun, singing songs and skippin’ stones, had a no top Chevy and some plates of my own.” I’d always loved Elton John.
Once seated in front of the now dying fire, I felt an apology was in order. I wanted to get to down to business as quickly as possible because Joan was usually good for five minutes tops before she got spooked and ran for the door. “I’m sorry you had to see Eve possessed by Jacqueline last time you were here.”
Joan cleared her throat. “It gave me nightmares for a week after. I’ve never seen someone possessed before.”
A laugh escaped my mouth. “Most people haven’t. In my business, it’s a regular occurrence. But I’m sure it was frightening for you. Soon after you left, I came downstairs, realized what was going on, and asked Jaqueline, the ghost, to leave Eve’s body.” I felt like I owed Joan a better explanation about Caspian and his contribution to everyday life around here. After all, she had originally spilled that I was looking for a handsome dude, according to her BFF and former owner of this house, Belinda McMahon. “Joan,” I said carefully. “I know all this supernatural stuff scares you, but I feel I should tell you that I’ve been in touch with the ghost I’m asking you to research. Captain Caspian Cortez is the handsome man Belinda wanted me to contact. I’m sure of that.”
“You’ve spoken to him?” Joan’s voice was cautious, whispery.
