The day grew darker as the hour approached six o’clock, and Audrey had to restrain herself from turning on every single light in the house, settling for the two table lamps in the living room and the dark bronze chandelier in the dining room. She had the makings for a salad in the fridge, but that didn’t sound very appealing. What she really wanted was some comfort food — a big gooey grilled cheese sandwich, or some corn chowder or quiche.
She didn’t want to admit to herself that maybe her desire for food she didn’t have on hand was a pretense for getting out of the house. Besides, no matter what excuses she might come up with to get herself out of there for a few hours, sooner or later, she’d have to come back to sleep.
Just as she was about to force herself into the kitchen and make that damn salad after all, the doorbell rang. She muted the TV and got up from the couch, doing her best to ignore the foolish excitement rising in her, speculating that it might be Michael, coming over to tell her about the next day’s plans in person.
When she opened the door, however, it was Rosemary McGuire standing on the front porch, a pizza box in one hand. Her blue eyes laughed up at Audrey.
“I had a feeling you might need some company.”
Chapter 7
“So, what is it with you and Michael Covenant, anyway?” Audrey asked, feeling much more relaxed after two pieces of pepperoni pizza and a glass of pinot noir.
Rosemary wiped her fingers on her napkin, then set it back down in her lap. “It’s not just me. Isabel and Cecily don’t like him very much, either.”
While Audrey could see why Michael might rub people the wrong way, Rosemary’s antipathy seemed a bit more personal than a mere clash of personality types. “But why?”
She reached for her glass of wine, took a sip. “It was at a psychic fair a couple of years ago. The three of us had a booth there. We weren’t even doing readings, just selling stuff from the shop.”
“You do readings?” Audrey asked, somewhat surprised. As far as she could remember, she hadn’t seen any signage in Sisters We that advertised those sorts of services.
“Yes,” Rosemary said. Hands wrapped around the bowl of her wine glass, she leaned against the back of the chair and sent her dinner companion a speculative look. “Not formally…well, not exactly anyway. We don’t advertise. But if people ask, then we’ll do a reading for them. Cecily and I work mostly with the Tarot, and Isabel does palm reading.”
“How long have you known you were psychic?” Audrey asked, genuinely curious.
Although a lot of people might have been put off by such a question, Rosemary seemed to take it in stride. “Since…forever, I guess. It runs in the family, in case you hadn’t noticed. Our mother is psychic, both our grandmothers…I think it would have been weirder if we hadn’t been born with any talents.”
That was probably true. Audrey’s research seemed to show that strong psychic ability had some kind of genetic component. Where hers had come from, though, she had no idea. As far as she could remember, her mother had never mentioned having any kind of talents in that area. But then, even if she had, Audrey wondered whether her mother would have ever said anything. She’d always thought of her parents as having an ideal relationship, because they’d been best friends as well as husband and wife, but her father was a very down-to-earth person. He needed to see facts and evidence before he’d believe something — and since he’d taught biology at the local community college, she could see why he would have that sort of mind set.
Unfortunately, though, his wasn’t the sort of personality that lent itself to believing in psychic powers…or ghosts and demons, for that matter. He’d been troubled by his daughter’s reaction to the haunted building in New Orleans because he could plainly see that she was in distress, but he’d been inclined to blame her malaise on the gumbo she’d eaten for lunch. As for her mother, she’d been sympathetic, but as far as Audrey could tell, that place with its very dark history had had no effect on her.
“And you’re having to come to grips with yours, aren’t you?” Audrey stared at Rosemary, wondering how the other woman had guessed that she was grappling with her own burgeoning abilities, and she smiled and said, “Oh, I thought I could feel something earlier, but I wasn’t sure. Now, though…it feels like it’s beginning to shine out of you.” Rosemary drank some pinot noir, then set down her glass and quirked an eyebrow at Audrey. “He convinced you to go back to the Whitcomb place, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” she said shortly. “And we think we found the — the source of the problem. But I want to hear about you and Michael Covenant.”
For a second, Rosemary looked as though she might press the issue of Audrey’s second trip to the Whitcomb mansion. However, she could almost feel her give a mental shrug before she said, “Okay. We were at a psychic fair, like I said. It’s a fun way to network. And we’d heard of Michael Covenant, of course, because those circles aren’t really that big, you know? He had a booth, too, was selling his books and DVDs. Which, fine, he has his approach to things and we have ours. But then when I was taking a break, went to get some food and bottled water from one of the vendors, I heard him talking loudly about how psychic ability often isn’t inborn in us at all, comes from outside entities, and I just couldn’t hold it in. I went over and told him that was b.s. and that there are tons of examples of families with psychic talents. Of course, he just smiled at me and said he’d expected I would say something like that, since it’s hard to admit that our powers might come from something outside ourselves. I was about to really get into it with him when Isabel came along and pulled me away.”
That sounded like the Michael Covenant Audrey had seen on a few interview shows. Funny how in person he didn’t come off nearly as arrogant. Or was it simply that he thought he needed her for something, and so was doing his best to play nice? “It’s strange he would think that, since he didn’t say anything to me about my talents — whatever they are — coming from any place except inside me.”
“He probably didn’t want to piss you off.” Rosemary picked up the half-eaten piece of pepperoni pizza on the plate before her and took another bite. After chewing for a moment, she went on, “Don’t get me wrong — of course there are channelers, those who allow a spirit or entity to work through them. But not all psychics are channelers, and I’d argue that not all channelers are psychics, at least not in the way that CeeCee and Isabel and I are. And you, it sounds like.”
“I don’t know what I am,” Audrey said, mentally adding, Except tired…and frightened. “Although it seems like I have a talent for picking up on negative energy.”
Rosemary set down her pizza and wiped her fingers again. “Well, you’ve experienced tragedy in your life. That might explain it.”
She found that theory just a little unsettling. Wasn’t it bad enough to have lost both her parents in a violent and unexpected way? Did that mean she should be doomed to have darkness and bad luck following her wherever she went, like a piece of gum stuck to her shoe?
“I had my first experience a few years before their murders,” Audrey pointed out, then allowed herself a much-needed swallow of wine.
“That doesn’t necessarily matter,” Rosemary said. “We see time as linear, but it really isn’t. Actions and reactions can come from anywhere.”
It was the sort of thing a physicist might say. Audrey looked at Rosemary as she drank some more wine, at her wild hair and the diamond piercing that glinted from her nose, and wanted to shake her head. In her case, appearances were definitely deceiving.
Rosemary seemed to guess something of Audrey’s thoughts — or maybe she’d just outright read them — because she remarked, “I like to read. Makes sense, since I’m part-owner of a bookstore. But a lot of these theories of consciousness circle back around to basically the same principles, if you know what you’re looking at. Your first psychic experience was a negative one, even though your life was happy then. What was coming could have still echoed somewhere within you, though. What happen
ed, exactly?”
Audrey explained the odd occurrence in New Orleans, doing her best to be as matter-of-fact and detached about the experience as she could. While she spoke, though, she could feel some of those same shivers work their way down her spine, and she knew that the fear and sickness she’d suffered all those years ago had never left her. Not completely, anyway.
When she was done, Rosemary twisted a curl around her forefinger, idly playing with it as she appeared to think over the story. “You never had anything like that happen to you here in California?”
“No,” Audrey replied. “No psychic flashes, no weird feelings, nothing.”
“There might not have been anything strong enough to affect you. Everyone’s radar — so to speak — is a little different.”
“I felt it when my mother died,” Audrey blurted out, and Rosemary’s big blue eyes widened.
“Oh, God, I’m sorry,” she said. “And it was probably harder because you knew something was off, but you didn’t dare say anything about it.”
“Exactly.” Even though they were talking about something pretty dreadful, Audrey could feel some of the tension start to leave her neck and shoulders. It was as if having someone who truly understood what she’d gone through was enough, even though the pain of that moment would continue to resonate within her for the rest of her days.
“Anything after that?”
“No. At least, I don’t think so. I’d always been fascinated by the paranormal — the psychic side of it, anyway — and that was why I wanted to focus on parapsychology. Unfortunately, there aren’t as many places to do that as there used to be, so that’s why I went into psychology.”
“But you don’t really want to be a shrink.”
With someone else, Audrey might have wondered how the other woman had gotten so quickly to the core of her problems. But Rosemary — like her sisters — didn’t need a psychology degree to probe at the inner workings of the human psyche.
“Not really,” Audrey admitted. “Maybe that was part of why I agreed to do this show with Michael, even if I told myself it was just the money, just having the chance to pay off the balance on my student loans and get the property tax on this house taken care of.”
“Is that still a problem?” she asked, and Audrey shook her head.
“No. I got a third of my salary for the show up front, so the taxes won’t be an issue, and I’ll take care of the loans after I get the final installment of the Project Demon Hunters money. If I survive that long,” she added with a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.
And clearly, Rosemary wasn’t buying it. “Money isn’t worth putting yourself in danger, and that’s what’s happening with this show, no matter what Michael Covenant might have told you.”
For some reason, Audrey felt compelled to come to his defense. “He came clean about everything today. And — and he protected me, both times.”
“You wouldn’t have needed protecting if you hadn’t been suckered into doing this show, would you?”
Well, she had a point there. But Michael could have threatened lawsuits and breach of contract and all that if he’d wanted to, and he hadn’t. He’d seemed genuinely more interested in getting Audrey to understand why the work was important, why he wanted her to be a part of it.
“‘Sucker’ is a strong word,” she said. “I’ll admit I didn’t understand everything that working on the show might involve, but after today, I’ve had a pretty good taste of it.”
“And?”
“And I’m staying. Maybe that sounds crazy, but if Michael and I really get this house cleared, then we’ll have helped someone. Really helped them, in a tangible way.”
Rosemary didn’t look convinced. “Helped a couple of millionaires.”
“Aren’t millionaires worthy of help, the same as the rest of us?”
For a moment, she didn’t reply. Then she chuckled, although something about the sound seemed almost reluctant, as though she laughed despite herself. “I suppose you’re right. There’s just something about Michael Covenant that rubs me the wrong way.”
“Well, I can’t blame you for feeling that way, after how he acted.” Audrey hesitated, not sure how much else she should say. Her feelings on the subject of Michael Covenant were just a little muddled. “But he’s not always an arrogant asshole.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Suddenly, she grinned. “It’s probably also that he looks a little like one of my exes, which isn’t something that tends to endear a guy to me.”
Audrey found herself smiling back at her. “No, probably not.”
After that, they both seemed to relax a little, and they talked about the store, about how Rosemary and her sisters had grown up in Pasadena but how they’d decided to set up their store in Glendora because rents were so high in their former hometown. Just normal, everyday stuff.
When they were done with their wine and pizza, though, Rosemary fished a card out of her cell phone holder/wallet and gave it to Audrey. It was just a business card for the bookstore, but on the back she’d hand-written a different phone number.
“That’s my cell,” she said as Audrey looked down at it. “If something weird happens, you call me. I’ll rally the troops and come over.”
“You all live together?” Audrey asked, touched that she’d be worried enough about her to offer to help.
“God, no,” Rosemary said in tones of convincing horror. “Isabel and CeeCee both have kids under five. It’s bad enough that I get drafted to do babysitting duty all the time…I don’t think I would survive having to actually live with them. But their houses are on the same street, and mine’s just one up from them, so we can all assemble pretty quickly if we have to.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine, but thank you.”
Rosemary was quiet for a moment, face so blank, Audrey wondered if she was all right. Apparently, she’d been reaching out with her talent, or at least trying to. “I can’t feel anything, but that’s the problem with demons. They can really muck up vibrations. Just call if you have to, okay?”
“Okay,” Audrey said. “I promise.”
That response seemed to satisfy Rosemary, because she nodded before she opened the door and let herself out. Audrey watched her walk down the front path to a little pale green Fiat that was parked in front of the house; apparently, her own place was far enough away that she needed to drive. She gave a final wave before she climbed in, and then Audrey shut the front door.
Even though she was now alone, she didn’t feel worried or anxious or afraid. She cleared the plates off the table and put the leftover pizza in a glass storage container with a locking lid, then set it in the refrigerator. A glance at the clock on the microwave told her it was a little after eight, way too early to go to bed.
That was all right. She’d turn on some music, do a bit of reading. Just a quiet, normal night in.
Her cell phone rang. She went to retrieve it from her purse, which was still sitting in the living room. A quick glance at the home screen told her it was Michael calling.
“Audrey. Everything still all right?”
“Just fine,” she said. For a second, she contemplated telling him that Rosemary had brought pizza, had promised her and her sisters’ help if necessary. Then Audrey realized he didn’t have to know that. “Did you talk to Colin?”
“Yes, and he spoke with the owners. They don’t care if we have to jackhammer the floor in the basement if it means they can get their house back, so we’re set for tomorrow. I can pick you up at seven.”
Well, that wasn’t quite as ungodly as six-thirty, but still. Audrey wondered if he preferred to drive her to the set so he could be more in control of the situation, then dismissed the thought as uncharitable. There really wasn’t a lot of parking on the small side street where the mansion was located, and so it made sense to carpool if possible.
“All right,” she said, hoping he hadn’t heard the way she’d hesitated before replying. “And if everything works ou
t?”
“Then we’ll take a few days off before we hit the road for Tucson.”
So much for Santa Barbara. “Aren’t we going to fly?”
“It’s easier to drive, especially since the crew will have to come in vans because of the equipment they’re hauling.”
“Your car can make it that far?”
Luckily, he sounded amused rather than taking offense. “No, I’ll rent something. We can ride together, if you like.”
Seven hours of being stuck in a car with Michael Covenant? Audrey didn’t know if that was a good idea. Then again, she also didn’t know whether her little Corolla could safely make it all the way to Tucson, either. It seemed kind of foolish for both of them to be renting cars.
“Sure,” she said. “It’ll be fun. I haven’t done a road trip in a while.”
“Great. We can talk about it more tomorrow…after.”
She didn’t have to ask which “after” he was talking about. They were both blithely assuming everything would go well, but these were demons they were dealing with, after all. They didn’t exactly play by the rules.
“Okay,” Audrey told him. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Seven o’clock. Have a good night.”
He hung up then, and she returned the phone to her purse and set it back down on the coffee table. While she didn’t have any intention of going to sleep before nine-thirty or ten, she could just as easily read on her Kindle in bed, rather than down here on the couch. That way, she could go to sleep as soon as she felt the time was right.
That matter settled, she flicked on the lights above the stairway, then shut off everything else on the ground floor. The steps creaked a little as she walked up them, but they always did that; the house was nearly a hundred years old. Lights on in the upstairs hallway, and then she was safely in her bedroom, cheered a bit by the warm yellow paint on the walls and the friendly, lived-in antiques that filled the room. It had always felt like a sanctuary in there, and she knew she needed that reassurance now more than ever.
Unquiet Souls Page 10