Robin asked, “Do you think someone stole some?”
“It’s completely possible. The boathouse has a dead bolt, but if you know how to pick locks, it wouldn’t be hard to get in there. It’s not connected to the house security system—we just have a sticker on the window to make it look like it is.”
“Shit.” Val took a deep breath. “You need to tell Sully all this stuff.”
“I did. He got to Russell House right after Gabe left.”
Robin narrowed her eyes. “Did Gabe really say you were being ridiculous?”
“Yeah.” It still burned. “He used that exact word.”
Val raised her hand. “To be fair, I think I used the word ridiculous when I was in denial about our powers.”
“Please do not tell me you’re defending him,” Monica said. “That man is an ass.”
“I’m just saying that Sully is going to talk to him. All the psychic stuff can be a little hard to take when you first hear it—you can’t deny that.”
“Okay fine,” Robin said. “But he’s still an asshole for calling Monica ridiculous.”
“He is without a doubt an asshole and will have to grovel before she forgives him and makes her sex vision come true. Can we talk about the sex vision again?”
“Valerie!” Monica nearly threw a wineglass at her. “As if I’d ever—”
“Groveling! Groveling, remember? He has to grovel. Then you can have the sexy sex with him.”
“What about West?”
Val shrugged. “What about West? You went out with him once. You don’t have to ask his permission for anything. He probably banged a random last weekend at that bike rally in Bridger.”
He might have. West had invited Monica to join him at the rally, but when she said no—they’d had too many guests at Russell House for her to leave all day—she hadn’t heard another word from him all weekend.
West was fun, but he didn’t get her blood in a simmer like Gabe did. Had. Past tense. Because whatever might have been happening there was called off for sure after his attitude that afternoon.
“Gabe isn’t happening,” Monica said. “I hope Sully sets him straight about me, but I’m done with that man. I have other things to worry about. Like how my blankets are ending up at fire scenes.”
“It has to be theft,” Robin said. “I mean, you only have Jake, Kara, and Eve working there full time. And Jake’s the only one who regularly goes to the boathouse.”
“The idea that Jake would be an arsonist…” Monica shook her head. “That’s what is ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” Val said. “Try absurd. It has to be theft.”
“Still,” Robin said, “we’ve got to start putting things together. We have more information now. We know the fires have something to do with the past. We know the blankets are from Russell House. Do you guys think it’s possible my grandfather’s ghost is back?”
“No.” Monica was sure of that. “His presence was centered on Russell House, but we’ve had no reports about any strange reactions from guests. I was in the attic the other day to put Fourth of July decorations away and there was nothing.”
Val nudged her. “You did a smoke cleanse anyway, right?”
“Oh yeah. I used that cedar Robin dried.”
Their first adventure with nascent psychic powers was banishing Robin’s horrible grandfather from Russell House. The man had been abusive in life and in death. A little smoke cleanse to rid the area of negative energy was never a bad idea.
“Robin, have you tried calling Bethany again?” Monica was worried about the little girl. She’d died eighty years ago, but Monica was still worried. Did it make sense? No.
Val was staring out the window and into the forest. “Has anyone else wondered about the places this person is setting fires?”
Robin said, “Didn’t Sully say that targets with a serial arsonist are usually random because it’s all about the thrill of the fire?”
Monica sat up straight. “But these aren’t random. Not really. He or she has only attacked one kind of target. Different places, but one kind of target.”
“You’re right,” Val said. “It’s all old cabins.”
“Not just old cabins.” Monica racked her brain. “If I remember correctly, all three of the places they hit, the Alison cabin, the Lewis place by the creek, and the most recent one—”
“It belonged to the Roberts family. No one in the family is left in town, but I think it’s still in their name.”
“Yeah.” Monica nodded. “That’s what I thought. Another family from Grimmer.”
Val looked at Robin, then back to Monica. “Okay. All old cabins.”
“All relics,” Monica said. “All seasonal cabins left over from when Grimmer existed and people came up here for hunting or for the cooler weather.”
Robin said, “You think the arsonist is only targeting old cabins that belonged to families from Grimmer?”
“Yeah.” The pieces felt right. “I think that’s exactly what they’re doing. The fire took out a lot of Grimmer.”
Val said, “The dam destroyed the rest.”
Robin said, “But the cabins were still there. It’s like… someone is burning the last pieces of Grimmer that remain.”
“It’s not like they’re doing it,” Monica said. “I think that’s exactly what they’re doing.”
Sully sat next to Val on Monica’s couch. “I tried to set Gabe straight, but I can’t lie. He’s a skeptic. I don’t think he believes you had anything to do with the fire though. He may think you’re covering for someone.”
“Who?”
Sully raised an eyebrow. “Your son does work at Russell House.”
Val said, “See, that’s where you guys don’t realize what kind of mom Monica is.”
“Yeah,” Robin said. “If one of Monica’s kids had done this and she knew about it, she’d be the one calling the cops.”
“And I wouldn’t bail them out either.” Monica sat with her arms crossed. “The world isn’t going to give my boys a break, so I can’t either.” She paused. “Maybe on their birthday.”
“Fair enough,” Sully said. “I’m just telling you what direction Gabe is looking in.”
“Well, he’s not going to find anything. Jake didn’t do it.”
“I’m going to question Jake anyway,” Sully said. “Just so you know. That will let him get his alibis on the record. And I can’t be seen playing favorites just ’cause I know the family.”
“Arson.” Robin muttered the word. “Arson is about anger. About making internal destruction external, right? Who in Glimmer Lake is angry at Grimmer?”
Monica spread her hands. “Who even thinks about Grimmer anymore? The last people who ever lived there have mostly passed away. I don’t think an eighty-year-old arsonist is very likely.”
Val said, “The old residents have passed, but their families are still out there.” She turned to Robin. “Did you recognize any of the other names in that newspaper article? The one about the dissatisfied families?”
“You think an old resident of Grimmer—or a descendant of one—who didn’t like their financial settlement is going after the last bits of Grimmer this many years later?” Sully frowned. “It’s a stretch.”
Robin said, “I’m worried about the ghosts.”
“By definition, aren’t ghosts pretty safe?” Sully asked. “They’re already dead. What’s the worst that could happen to them?”
“They’re quiet.” Robin continued, ignoring Sully. “There’s something going on.”
“So we keep trying to contact Bethany,” Monica said. “Maybe once you tell her you know how she died—that no one blames her or her sister for the fire—she’ll talk to you again.”
“I’ll try.”
“We need to try to find the woman,” Sully said. “The one Val keeps seeing waking up at the cabins. If we find her, we can tie these crimes together.”
“But Sully, I don’t think she’s setting the fires. If she is, she�
�s not conscious of it. Everything I’m getting from her is confusion, fear, panic—”
“Either way,” Sully said, “victim or perpetrator, if she’s at the scene, she’s in danger. It’s also possible this is someone who’s just trying to get by sleeping in these abandoned cabins and she’s being targeted. If that’s the case, she’s in danger and this arsonist is after her.”
“So Robin is going to try to contact Bethany again,” Monica said. “I’ll go to the library and see if Gail has any old maps. Let’s try to find out which cabins around here existed before the dam was built.”
Sully said, “Good idea. I’ll talk to the county surveyor and see what records he has too.”
“Thanks. Val, are you going to try another read on the physical evidence they’ve saved from the scenes?”
Val and Sully exchanged a look. “I can.”
He said, “It can’t hurt. Head over to the fire house tomorrow and I’ll work it out with Gabe.”
“You can tell him about me,” Val said. “If you want. It’s a little easier to ‘prove’” —she used air quotes— “my gifts. Maybe we can convince him.”
“Just don’t do it on my account,” Monica said. “I don’t care what that man thinks of me. I just don’t want him going after my employees.”
Sully shifted. “I can’t lie, I was pretty skeptical about psychics at first. Cops and investigators have to deal with frauds all the time. Sometimes people are kidding themselves. Sometimes they just want to be close to the drama. I understand why he’s skeptical because I was the same way until I met someone who was the real deal.”
“In LA?”
He nodded. “It was on a murder case, and it was someone kind of like Val. She wasn’t object specific, but she could read a scene, pick up pieces of what had happened. Emotions. Spoken words. Stuff like that.”
“But no one who had visions?”
“No. Until I learned about you ladies, I wouldn’t have believed anyone about visions.”
“Why are visions so unbelievable?” Monica stood and started clearing the table. “No one questions ghosts. Or freaky energy readings. Even the psychic-friendly scientist friend of Mark’s questioned whether visions were possible.”
“It seems more mystical maybe?” Robin stood and went to the kitchen to help. “Don’t take it personally, Monica. You’ve done more to help this investigation than any of us. We can only help after a tragedy has happened. You might have a chance to prevent it from occurring at all.”
“But only if people believe me.” And only if she could interpret this new kind of visions she was having. They were more than the snapshots of the future she’d gotten in the past. She had to interpret symbols and vague clues. “I just don’t know if the information I’m getting is going to be able to stop whatever is coming.”
Because it was coming. Something dark and angry was approaching Glimmer Lake. She felt it; the ghosts felt it.
Monica had to figure out the clues, or the whole town could be destined for tragedy.
Chapter 17
Jake poked his head out from under the sink. “Yeah, you’re going to need a new garbage disposal.”
Monica groaned. “Seriously? Of all the things happening right now, I don’t need another one. You can’t fix it?”
He smiled a little. “Mom, this thing is a relic. It’s probably older than me. Just get a new one. They’re not that expensive, and I can put it in for you.”
Monica sighed. “Fine. I think it’s the original one to the house, so you’re probably right.” The house had been relatively new when she and Gilbert had bought it when Jake was five, but “relatively new” in Glimmer Lake just meant it had been built in the previous ten years. “Do they have them at the hardware store, or will I need to go into Bridger?”
He crawled out from the cabinet. “Tell you what. I’ll run by and see what they have. If they have the right one, I’ll grab it. If they don’t, I’ll call Caleb and see if he can bring one up from Bridger this weekend. Does that work?”
She pinched his chin. “You are an excellent child and I’m glad I fed you.”
Jake chuckled. “Me too. Even if there was too much spinach.”
“It’s good for you.”
He groaned. “It’s not. It’s so gross. And you know what?”
She lifted a hand. “I don’t want to—”
“I never eat spinach now. I eat no leafy greens at all. And I’m perfectly healthy.”
She pinched his waist. “That is only because your mother fed you spinach every week when you were growing!”
Jake laughed and ducked away from her pinching fingers. “Sam and Sylvia agree with me. Caleb only eats it because he’s a mama’s boy.”
A mama’s boy who was built like a tank. “Did you get them presents?”
“They said they didn’t want them.”
It was the twins’ birthday that weekend, and all her boys were coming into town for the day for a barbecue on Saturday. Sylvia would be video-chatting in for the dinner, probably complaining about not having any decent tri-tip in Berkeley.
“I don’t care that they say they don’t want presents, it’s their birthday. They secretly want presents.”
“Fine.” He frowned. “I’ll get them both a bottle of scotch.”
“That’s not a present.”
“Sure it is.” He started putting the tools back in Gil’s old toolbox, which he kept in the laundry room. “Are you going to do something about this fire inspector?”
Kara had heard some of Gabe and Monica’s argument in her office. Not the vision part, thank God, but she could hear that Gabe was suspicious.
“What do you think I should do? If anyone questions me, I’ll show them the security-system logs. I can’t do anything else.”
“Can’t you call Dad’s captain or something?”
“Sweetie, I think that’s an overreaction.” Despite what she’d said to Gabe the last time they talked, Monica had no intention of pulling a “do you know who I am?” She was fairly sure that Gabe investigating her would go absolutely zero places. She wasn’t that exciting.
“I don’t think it’s an overreaction.” Jake looked a little pissed. “This wouldn’t even be a question if Dad were still alive. I mean, what does this guy think? That a middle-aged mom of four is going to randomly start fires all over town?”
“I don’t know whether to be happy you are so sure of my innocence or pissed that you think I’m incapable of breaking the law.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t joke about this.”
Monica laughed. “Sweetie, why not? You think they’re going to what? Railroad me? Who would arrest me? Sully? He knows I’m not an arsonist.” She walked over, hugged him, and patted his back. “I’m going to ignore this. The man has nothing. I told him that those blankets are widely available and go missing all the time.”
Jake hugged her back hard. “Just be careful.”
“I will be. You be careful too. I’m more concerned that someone has been breaking into the boathouse. We need to do something about the security system down there.”
Jake let her go and stepped back. “The only people who have keys are me and Kara. I haven’t noticed anything… out of place, I guess?”
“Be honest—that place is not organized. Would you even notice if someone stole something smaller than a boat?”
“Fair point.”
“Speaking of Kara.” Monica picked up the carafe and poured herself more coffee. “What’s going on there?”
“Are you asking as my employer or as my mother?” Jake tried to hide his smile, but Monica caught it.
“As your mother of course.”
“Then none of your business.” He grinned and ducked away from the dish towel she threw at him.
“Fine! Then I’m asking as your employer.”
“Nope. Doesn’t work that way.”
She picked up her phone and started to text someone. “Okay.”
Jake’s eyes went wide. “
What are you doing?”
“None of your business.” She was texting Eve about making her an iced coffee so it was ready when she got back to Russell House.
“Who are you texting?” Jake reached for her phone, but she kept it out of his reach.
“See you back at work,” Monica said, walking toward her purse by the front door. “Take some of the leftovers if you want.” She’d made chile verde that morning as a thank-you for Jake checking her garbage disposal on his lunch break. It was his favorite.
“Mom, you better not be asking Kara about us.”
She would literally never do that, but she kind of enjoyed tormenting her oldest with the thought.
“Mom?”
“Lock up and don’t be too long. Don’t forget you have a fishing trip at five.”
“Mom!”
The afternoon at Russell House had been routine. It was a Thursday, so guests checked in for long weekends and no one checked out. The hotel would be busy through the end of the month, but once Labor Day weekend was over, things were looking dead.
Monica was brainstorming promotion ideas at the kitchen table and picking at leftovers while she drank a cold beer. She heard the doorbell ring and looked at her phone, but no one had texted they were coming over. She switched over to the app that controlled her house system and checked the front door camera.
Sully and Gabe.
Was that heartburn? Monica snapped her notebook closed and stood, walking to the door and opening it just as Gabe had his hand raised to knock.
“Yes?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
She’d forgotten she was wearing an old V-neck shirt with the neck all stretched out until Gabe’s eyes fell to her cleavage and got stuck.
“Can I help you?” She didn’t move. Let him look. Let him wonder. He wouldn’t be seeing any of it.
She might have hiked her boobs up. Just a little.
Psychic Dreams: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Glimmer Lake Book 3) Page 12
