I couldn't understand his reason for lying to his parents and everyone else. "Why did you take the blame?"
"I'd let him down." Trevor looked away from the monitor, scowling. "I should've known how bad he felt. I didn't want people to think he was a coward who killed himself. And my parents, they would've never forgiven themselves."
"All the time you were going through court, you never told the truth?"
"I got stuck in my story. It got so that I almost believed it was true. I deserved a punishment because if I hadn't walked in and struggled with him over the gun, he might not have done it. I pushed him over the edge." He sank into the rocker and hunched over. "You're the first person besides Cullen I've told the truth to."
I touched his cold hands. "I'll keep your secret." What a muddle. Even if I believed him, he stayed on the suspect list. He had to have some serious inner kinks to live with that lie for so long. "And you don't like lawyers because yours got you probation. That conflicted with your need to be punished?"
"When you put it that way," Trevor said, "it makes me sound weird."
What a sad story of a messed up young life. He needed to confide in counselors instead of people like Cullen or me who didn't know how to help him process. "I hope you feel better now that you've told me the truth. I promise not to reveal your story. It's your secret until you want to let others know, like staff."
I was uncertain what to do next, whether to encourage him to keep talking about his brother or whether to change the subject to give him a chance to sort out his feelings. Awkward moment. "Now that we're sharing—"
He straightened and pointed at me. "You're not sharing. Why not?"
He had me there. "Right. Don't take this personally, but I don't feel comfortable revealing myself to a younger guy."
"Why?" he demanded. "You're not giving me a chance."
I resisted an impulse to squirm. "You're right. Again. We do so much talking here. Let's do something physical." When he looked startled, I hurried on. "We could do a race with origami creatures. It will help us focus and center ourselves." The origami races combined creativity and the excitement of competition. The races were currently the favorite game among residents who wanted a quick break. A creative diversion would give Trevor's feelings a chance to settle. I didn't shine at origami, so I hoped Trevor would beat me and bolster his self-esteem. Normally I could fashion a paper creature and make it toddle to the finish line, but I never won.
Trevor seemed enthusiastic, grabbing two sheets of paper from Jake's printer and placing them on the desk. We each stood over a sheet, manipulating our fingers and quietly speaking spell words. I used a simple design for a bird, although each fold required immense concentration and effort from me. For every fold I did, Trevor completed at least three and soon had constructed a beetle. Not going in for fancy touches, I ended up with a white bird that had uneven legs.
Using the length of the desk as a racecourse, we started our creatures on the count of three. Wiggling his fingers, Trevor had the beetle darting forward. My bird flew two inches before tumbling to the desk. Blaze slipped off his tattoo, grabbed the white bird, and flapped madly to the end of the desk, only to find Trevor had zipped forward his beetle.
"A tie?" I suggested. Before Trevor could answer, Blaze released the bird and snatched up the beetle. "Drop it!" I ordered. Blaze relinquished the beetle, letting it fall to the desk, where it burst into flames. I pointed at it and called out, "Extinguish!" When it continued to burn, Blaze flew to the credenza behind the desk and hovered over a coffee cup. Seeing it was half full, I poured the contents over the beetle.
Trevor gaped at the mess on the desk. "I didn't mean for the beetle to burn at the end of the race. I just ordered the beetle to go fast." He fled.
Blaze flew over the white bird that had been swept off the desk by the coffee flow and lay on the floor in a sodden brown heap.
"Sad," Blaze announced.
I shook my finger at him. "Don't try to get around me by platitudes. Why did you butt in and snatch up the beetle? Never mind. I have to clean up this mess." Using paper towels from the bathroom, I cleaned up the coffee spill. Blaze whistled a cheery tune, perched on my shoulder. The melody entertained me, and I postponed disciplining him while I worked on the bigger problems of Trevor's behavior and Cullen's murder.
I'd have to alert staff that Trevor might be in crisis mode. I considered the way the beetle had burst into flames. Trevor assumed the fire was his fault. If true, that meant Trevor could create a destructive artifact, perhaps accidentally. Trevor's motive to harm Cullen didn't seem strong. I didn't want young, vulnerable Trevor to be guilty. I wanted the murderer to be a bad guy I could dislike.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Before I started my session with Cullen, I texted Hailey that Trevor might need immediate attention. Getting the laptop from my room, I went into the backyard and settled in the chair on the spot marked X. Shade from the cottonwood trees along the fence crept across the yard.
Cullen's face had no expression, but I thought his eyes focused in my direction. A breeze rustled the leaves of the cottonwood trees and fluttered Cullen's dark hair. That movement fascinated me, for it somehow made the mask seem alive. Cullen never blinked, which was rather unnerving.
Loki perched on the fence. His black eyes darted from me to Cullen.
"The play's the thing," he croaked.
That reminded me I had a job—to stimulate Cullen but not overexcite him. The instructions from staff stated we could show him something or speak briefly every fifteen minutes. We were told to keep it simple and not do any magic. Over my hour, I showed Cullen his webpage, his Facebook entries, and his Twitter account. I read some of his comments, BFF and me at Fresco's, Doesnt that suck, LOL Heather, etc., and those were the ones that made the most sense. I held up the laptop so he could see the pictures, but Cullen didn't respond to anything. Other residents had commented that Cullen hadn't reacted to them. Jake assured us that ghosts sometimes went quiet when they were working their hardest to adjust to their new identity.
Still, Cullen's lack of response discouraged me. At the end of my hour, I was relieved to head back into the house. Linc passed me on the way to his session carrying a briefcase.
Ira waited in the dining room. "Let's stay in here. I want to keep an eye on Linc."
I followed him to the patio door. "What's up?"
Ira pressed close to the screen and whispered to me, "I'm curious about what Linc's going to do. When we were paired up in the break-it room, he talked only about Cullen. How he was going to approach the mask, what the cops should do to solve the case. He asked me to do something crazy. I turned him down. I promised not to tell anybody what he asked me. Let's watch him."
We viewed Linc from the back and to the side. He fiddled around in his briefcase, and the sounds of a march reached us.
I nudged Ira. "What does he expect? That the mask will start strutting around the yard?" With the blare of the music, I didn't need to keep my voice down.
Ira turned to me. "I don't get it, but I'll watch for a while longer. How was your session with Cullen?"
"Like everybody else's. No reaction. Wore me out." I slipped my arm around him, enjoying the feel of his solid body.
He squeezed my shoulder "Guess who got to be a mentor today? After Trevor left you, he was upset, and Hailey counseled him. Then she asked me to do some exercises with him. She said I'll never finish treatment until I can help others." He smiled at the memory of her insightfulness.
I stroked his back. "You did click with him talking about football." Sports therapy. I paused to observe Linc waving his arms like a bandleader, except he wasn't quite following the beat.
"Any suspect leads today?" I asked.
"Trevor felt guilty that his beetle caught fire," Ira said. "He thinks it shows he could've made the device that killed Cullen. Linc has been hinting he can reproduce that device."
Since Linc had just shut off the music, I had to lower my voice. "Doe
sn't he realize that people might suspect he actually did make the device?"
Ira leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Linc is so caught up in his theories he doesn't pay attention to anything else."
Ira's hot breath puffed over my earlobe, temporarily distracting me, but then Loki caught my attention.
He'd leaned forward and fixed his eyes on Linc, who was groping in the briefcase. When Linc withdrew his hand, his fist was clenched as if it held something.
"What's he doing?" I murmured. Ira shook his head.
Loki spread his wings as if he were about to take off but then lowered them when Linc simply pressed his fist to his chest.
"There is a time to be born and a time to die," Loki stated.
Linc used his free hand to point at the mask, his fingers wiggling and his mouth moving, though no sound emerged. Then he lowered his hand and stood rigid as a statue.
I shifted uneasily because I couldn't understand what Linc was doing. He hadn't done anything wrong, had he? He acted like he'd cast a spell, but nothing had happened, and he was ten feet from the mask. The late afternoon sun sent the shadows of the cottonwood trees over the shrine and the mask, darkening the space.
Arms around each other's waists, Ira and I leaned together. After ten minutes of staring at an unmoving Linc, I yawned. Although I wanted to talk with Ira about Dawn and Linc breaking up, I didn't relish whispering the whole conversation.
Ira's hand tightened, and he nodded toward Linc. I tensed as again Linc mouthed something but didn't speak out loud. Why did Linc keep acting like he was doing a spell when he knew it was forbidden?
Linc thrust forward the fist pressed to his chest. As he said, "Shine out," a gleaming spear appeared in his hand. Shocked, I yelled, "No!" and dashed out onto the yard, followed by Ira. Loki swooped into Linc's chest, causing him to lose his balance and topple backward. When Loki pecked at the spear, it disappeared. A scorched line in the grass marked its destruction.
I was so relieved at the demolition of the spear that I almost collapsed, but anger at Linc revived me. "You idiot," I cried out, "didn't you realize how traumatic it would be to flourish at Cullen the same weapon that killed him? I can't believe you could be so stupid!"
Instead of answering me, Linc pointed at Loki. "I wasn't going to hurt him. Why did you interfere with my experiment?"
Loki flew to a phone on the bench close to the Mother of Mercy shrine. "Call home."
What? Ira understood because he grabbed Linc's arm. "I bet Loki just had that phone alert staff to a problem. 'Call home' could be a code. Better get your defense ready."
Linc pulled his arm away. "I'm fully prepared to explain my actions."
* * *
Linc, his head held high, strode into the living room, followed by Ira and me. I wanted to demand an explanation from Linc about his behavior. Facing us, Hailey and Vidoc stood in a cleared space in the middle of the room. The beanbags and futons had been moved back against the walls.
Hailey nodded at us in a businesslike way then turned to Vidoc. "Please relieve Loki and send him in here."
When Loki flew in, he perched on her extended hand. Hailey held him there while they gazed into each other's eyes. I guessed Loki was using mental communication to tell her what had happened.
Linc eyed Ira and me. "Since you two must have been watching at least at the end, you can be witnesses for me."
"Think again about me helping you," I responded. He needed an advocate, but it wasn't me. "From my point of view, you did an incredibly stupid thing when you showed that spear to Cullen."
Loki flapped over to us and hovered above Linc. "A tale told by an idiot." That was his exit line, for he departed through the open patio door.
Hailey beckoned us closer. "Ira and Petra, tell me what happened out there."
I gestured for Ira to go first, knowing he'd be succinct, and he did give a simple factual account. I could see he was trying to be fair.
"I don't have any facts to add," I said, "but I want to hear what Linc has to say and if you're going to give him a consequence. Cullen can't yet talk for himself. Yesterday Adrian asked me to act as Cullen's guardian. Whether I'm the best person for the job, someone should speak up for him." Adrian had been right—Cullen needed an advocate.
Linc deposited his briefcase on a beanbag that had crept over and snuggled up to him. "I want everyone to know what I was trying to do. I started with marching music. That was because Cullen was on a cheering squad in high school. I don't know what music they used, so that was as close as I could get."
I supposed Linc had been geeky in high school and didn't go to football games. "What about the hand gestures like you were trying to do a spell?"
Linc flicked a half guilty look at Hailey. "That was calculated subterfuge. I faked doing magic at first to get Loki off his guard. And then I used magic to create the spear like we saw attack Cullen. I planned—"
"How can you explain why you did something that could be so upsetting to Cullen?" Linc needed to admit he'd done something wrong.
"I was only going to show Cullen the spear for a few seconds, but Loki didn't give me a chance." Linc frowned. "And he destroyed my creation. I thought a brief glimpse would stir Cullen's memory. It's not like I planned to propel it at him. People have been telling me they've tried just talking to Cullen, but he didn't react."
As I opened my mouth to protest, Hailey held up her hand. "Not right now, Petra. I'd like you and Ira to give me some time alone with Linc to help him process. Then I'll work with the staff on his therapeutic consequence."
Leaving Hailey and Linc settling on beanbags, Ira and I headed for our rooms.
I stopped outside the Jake-Hailey office. "I'm going to see if Dawn needs help in the kitchen. I'm too restless to sit in my room. I'd enjoy chopping something up. I'm not criticizing you, but how come you didn't let Linc know you disapproved of what he did?"
Rather than an immediate answer, Ira pulled a red scarf out of his pocket. "After spending time with Linc in the break-it room, I could see where he's coming from. He's misguided but thought he was doing the logical thing, the right thing. He acted on his theory without considering emotional consequences." He flicked the scarf so that it draped gracefully around my neck.
Ira had a more forgiving nature than me. "I like it that you don't always think like me. It makes you more interesting." I fingered the silky scarf. "Thanks." He grinned, kissed my forehead, and went off to work on costume designs for the circus.
In the kitchen Dawn and Adrian frowned at a simmering saucepan as if it had offended them. At once, they pounced on me because the grapevine had spread the word that something was up with Linc. I had a receptive audience for my account of his behavior with Cullen.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
By the time we sat down to a dinner of barbecue beef and scalloped potatoes, everyone at the ranch knew about Linc's session with Cullen. During the meal, Linc sat by himself, wolfed down his food, and then stomped off.
After dinner, instead of gathering in the living room to watch TV or having personal time in our rooms, we residents milled about, popping in and out of each other's rooms or chatting loudly in little groups around the house. We had a lot to talk about—Cullen's murder, his return as a ghost, and Linc's session with him.
I'd had time to cool off and stopped by Linc's room to see how he was doing, but he wasn't there. He'd decorated his walls with photos of faraway galaxies that he'd magically enhanced so the lights shimmered and twinkled, a lovely effect. His neat, logical mind didn't make him a tidy person. Books and papers covered the desk and bed. He dropped clothes all over the floor.
I ran into Adrian and Dawn again and found out that the story about Linc and Cullen had developed a life of its own. Wild rumors flew about—Linc had tried to kill Cullen's ghost! No, Linc knew how the murder was done and who the killer was. Linc would be kicked out of treatment. Linc could create demons.
Jake came up while we chatted excitedly and invited us to the livi
ng room. Staff had noticed our restlessness and set up the room to help us calm down.
As Adrian, Dawn, and I settled onto a futon, myself in the middle, Vidoc had just finished creating new decorations. On the ceiling stars twinkled in a black and blue sky. The starlight provided enough illumination to reveal objects and people yet soften them with shadows. On the walls ocean waves rolled back and forth over sandy beaches.
Adrian nudged me. "Even if none of the rumors are true, the basics of what Linc did make him a prime suspect, right?"
Dawn crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. All the gossip about Linc had unsettled her. She blew hot and cold, defending and berating him.
I looked away from the hypnotic ocean wave scene. "It looks like he could do the magic. His motive isn't too strong."
Dawn leaned across me. "If he was planning to break up with me, why would he go after Cullen for insulting me?"
Today, Dawn, Trevor, and Linc had all emerged as possible leads, but I hadn't had time to sort out my thoughts. I turned toward Dawn. "Can't talk now. Looks like they're going to start."
The buzz of chatter quieted as Hailey moved into the center of the room. Seated on beanbags and futons, we residents formed a half circle in front of her. Wyatt, Vidoc, Kai, and Jake made an arc behind her.
Jake held his wizard's staff, its dark wood encrusted with jewels and carved with runes. Jake didn't always carry his staff because he reserved it for powerful magical needs, but even this mellow event had an undercurrent of danger since an unsolved murder hung over us.
Hailey smiled at us and took a deep breath. I found myself reflexively imitating her and imagined I relaxed a bit. Adrian's features eased as she inhaled and exhaled noisily.
Murder Lifts the Spirits Page 10
