Driven (A Jenny Watkins Mystery Book 1)

by Becky Durfee

  Jenny once again looked at her lap.

  “I had to get the message out—it was bursting inside of me—so I eventually bought myself a second-hand typewriter and made up a pamphlet.” Elanor explained. “I stood in front of a store and handed it out to women on the street. The women looked at me like I was crazy, but they took it. The following week I had drafted another pamphlet and passed it out again. The women recognized me from the last time, and were, for the most part, eager to read another one. The following week I created a third, and I made up even more of them. They all got snatched up pretty quickly.

  “Soon, the owner of the store asked what I was doing out there. I thought he was going to ask me to leave, but instead he offered me some money to put an ad in the pamphlet. I agreed, and suddenly I was making a profit.” Elanor smiled, her eyes full of pride. “That was the beginning of Choices magazine.”

  “That’s fantastic,” Jenny said. “It’s so wonderful that you took such a devastating blow and turned it into something positive.”

  “It was a blessing in disguise, that whole mess. I always tell that to people; sometimes an event that seems terrible at the time turns out to be the kick in the ass you need to get going in the right direction. Although,” she said sadly, “I do often think about Steve. I wonder what could have been if my father didn’t interfere.”

  “Well, hopefully we can figure that out. I’ll tell you what, Miss Elanor. I’ll call a medium out to the house to do a reading. Perhaps a psychic could get a feel for what is going on in that house. Maybe we can get an answer to whatever became of Steve, or at least find out what message someone’s trying to send.”

  “That would be great,” Elanor said gratefully. “Thank you so much. I’ll pay any expenses you incur.”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary,” Jenny said.

  “Please,” Elanor said, “It’s the least I can do. Besides, you’re a teacher, so I know you don’t make much. But I’ve got more money than I know what to do with. Shit, I don’t need money in here, and I can’t take it with me, right?”

  “I suppose not. Well, thank you, Miss Elanor. I guess I’ll just let you know how much it is, then. Honestly, I have no idea how much a medium would charge to do a reading on a house…or whatever you’d call it.” The words sounded absurd coming out of Jenny’s mouth.

  “I’m not sure either, but whatever it takes is fine. Answers would mean more to me than any amount of money at this point.”

  After exchanging pleasantries, Jenny left Elanor’s room, her head spinning from everything she had discovered. During the ride home, she replayed the story in her head over and over again, trying to sort it all out. One thing she did know for sure; Greg would be unable to deny that she was on to something. He’d have to forgive her spending three hundred dollars on the private investigator, and hopefully she wouldn’t have to be so secretive about hiring the mediums, especially considering she would be reimbursed. She didn’t see how Greg could possibly be upset.

  Jenny did keep her phone off for the drive home, though, postponing the inevitable inquisition she would get from Greg. She felt bad, hoping that Greg wasn’t too worried, but believing the in-person explanation she was about to give would exonerate her from any perceived wrongdoing.

  She arrived home to find Greg sitting at the kitchen table with his arms folded across his chest. As soon as she walked in, he said in an irritated tone, “Did you forget something?”

  Surprised by the question, Jenny racked her brain to try to figure out what he meant. Then it hit her. “Oh…It’s Wednesday.” She glanced at her watch, which read 4:30. She put her hand on her forehead. “We had an appointment with the electrician at 3:00.”

  “Correction,” Greg said stubbornly, “I had an appointment with an electrician. You were nowhere to be found.”

  Jenny’s optimism for forgiveness instantly disappeared, replaced by the familiar feeling of simmering bubbles of anger popping beneath her skin. She paused for a moment, gathering herself, trying to respond in a way that wouldn’t spark an argument. She took a deep breath and said, “So what did you and the electrician come up with?”

  “I don’t know.” Greg shrugged his shoulders. “I forgot.”

  Jenny closed her eyes, nearly overcome with repugnance.

  “So where were you?” Greg asked bitterly. “Out hiring a private investigator?”

  Elanor’s words echoed in Jenny’s head. Sometimes, in order to be true to yourself, you have to piss some people off. She straightened her posture, flipped her hair back, and said, “No, I was not out hiring a private investigator. I did that two days ago. Today I was out visiting Elanor Whitby.”

  Greg shook his head and gritted his teeth. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. I really don’t. We had a plan to come out here and fix up this house so one day we could start a family…now it seems you don’t care about any of it. You’re more concerned with…this voice you’re hearing.” He sighed impatiently. “I just don’t get it.”

  “I’m not more concerned with the voice,” Jenny said defensively. “But I am curious about it, and it wouldn’t hurt you to be a little more supportive.”

  “I was supportive,” Greg said. “Didn’t I say you could look for her all you want? I just asked you not to spend money on it, but you did. I saw the bank withdrawal, Jenny. Don’t even try to deny it. I also asked you to be here for an appointment with the electrician, but you weren’t.” He impatiently put his hands on his hips. “The way I see it, you’re the one who’s not being supportive.”

  “I’m done here,” Jenny said, spinning on her heels and walking away. She went upstairs into her bedroom, locking the door behind her. She took several deep breaths to calm herself, but the animosity remained. She ran her trembling fingers through her hair and paced the room.

  Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the laptop sitting on the nightstand from Greg’s late-night price comparisons the evening before. “Bingo,” she whispered. Determined to give Elanor some answers, Jenny opened the laptop and researched some psychics and mediums in the area. The list was much longer than she had imagined. With so many options, she was unsure of which one to choose, or even a good method of narrowing them down. They all claimed to be real. They all had testimonials from satisfied customers. However, Jenny knew that true psychic ability didn’t grow on trees, and most—if not all—of these characters would prove to be phony. Undeterred, she chose a name of one who looked promising and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

  Sometimes, you have to step on some toes.

  Chapter 6

  The following day Miss Belle arrived at the house at 3:00. Greg was home but had spent the entire day avoiding Jenny, and that trend only continued after the psychic’s arrival. Jenny alone went out to greet Miss Belle, but had an uneasy feeling as the woman emerged from her car. They shook hands, and Jenny had the distinct impression she was shaking the hand of a professional fraud.

  To test the woman’s true ability, Jenny didn’t give any details of what she knew or had heard. She simply said she wanted a reading of the house since it was old, and she was just curious if it had any spirits roaming around in it.

  Jenny invited the psychic in, and Miss Belle immediately closed her eyes. “Yes,” she said, “I’m definitely getting something.” She allowed herself in, and wandered the house aimlessly for a while. She didn’t say a word, but acted as if she were using all five senses to receive messages. After a short time, she said to Jenny, “There is a presence here, but don’t worry, it’s a friendly one. It’s a child. May I go upstairs?”

  “Of course,” Jenny said politely, even though she was fully aware this was just a waste of time.

  Miss Belle headed up the stairs, wandering in and out of each room, including the one where Greg was installing a ceiling fan. He looked up and watched her skeptically for a moment, then went back to his work, shaking his head.

  Miss Belle stopped in one of the smaller bedrooms. “Yes,” she said, “This wa
s the child’s room. I feel sickness in here. Pneumonia.”

  Jenny feigned interest, “So a child died of pneumonia in here?”

  “Yes,” Miss Belle said pensively. “A little girl. About eight or nine, I’m guessing. She’s still here, wanting to play. She may not realize she’s passed.”

  Jenny frowned, “That’s fascinating.” Miss Belle had no idea she was being made fun of.

  “You may notice some odd happenings from time to time,” Miss Belle explained. “Lights on when you swear you’ve turned them off. Inexplicable noises. Items not where you’ve left them…that kind of thing. But don’t be alarmed; she’s just playing.”

  “So she’s a prankster.” Jenny couldn’t help herself.

  “Most of them are,” Miss Belle added. “The children, that is. The older ones can sometimes be trouble.”

  Jenny nodded, eager to get this so-called reading over with so she could go back to stripping wallpaper. After a few pleasantries, and a check for two hundred and fifty dollars, Miss Belle left.

  Feeling a strong desire to end the standoff with her husband, Jenny went up to where Greg was working and leaned in the doorway. “Boy, she was a nut case,” Jenny said.

  “And how much did that nut case cost us?” Greg asked without looking up.

  “Nothing. Elanor asked me to hire a medium on her behalf. We’re not paying for any of this.”

  That seemed to instantly relax Greg. “I wish you would have told me that sooner.”

  “I would have,” Jenny said calmly, “but you made me too angry.” She walked into the room and sat down on the floor near Greg. “Look, I’m sorry I forgot about the electrician yesterday. I really am. But I know I’m on to something here. Elanor believes that too. It turns out the man’s name that I heard was her boyfriend, who disappeared one day, never to be heard from again. I want to try to get Elanor some answers, but I’m afraid she may not have that long to live; she has cancer, which she decided not to treat.”

  Greg sighed. “As long as we’re not paying for it, I guess I’m okay with it. But please try not to let it interfere with the restoration. Our lives have to come first. Our real lives.”

  In an ideal world, Greg would have shown more interest, but Jenny was grateful for the minimal amount of support he was showing. It was better than opposition. She still didn’t feel like sharing the details with him; he wouldn’t have appreciated them. She decided to leave the conversation where it was, in a somewhat amicable place. “It’s a deal,” she said.

  She got up and started to leave the room. “I told the electrician about the quadruple outlets,” Greg called without looking. He took a wire splicer out of his tool box.

  “What?” Jenny asked.

  “The quadruple outlets. You had mentioned once that you thought the kitchen and bathrooms should have quadruple outlets. You thought it would be a nice selling point for women.” Greg cut off the end of a wire. “I mentioned it to the electrician, and he thought it was a good idea.”

  Fully aware that was Greg’s way of apologizing, Jenny smiled and continued out the door.

  Jenny put a bowl of green beans on the dinner table as Greg, already seated, put some chicken on his plate. Jenny sat down and took a sip of her water. “I was thinking I would like to hire another psychic to come to the house, but we don’t have the money to pay for it. I’d like to go out to visit Elanor again tomorrow and see if she’ll reimburse me for Miss Belle. Maybe she’ll even give me an advance on the next one.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Greg said. “I don’t want you spending any more money on this unless you know for sure she’ll be good for it.”

  Jenny smiled inside; she wasn’t surprised that Greg was okay with the idea since it involved collecting money. “Oh, she’s good for it. This woman has money out the wazoo. You should see the place she’s staying. It’s the nicest nursing home I’ve ever seen.”

  Jenny frowned and continued. “You know, her wealth is actually making me somewhat nervous. I’m afraid she’s going to think I’m only after her money. How’s it going to look when I go in and say, ‘hey…you don’t really know me, but why don’t you give me a ton of money, and I promise I’ll use it to hire psychics for you.’” She stabbed at some chicken. “I wouldn’t blame her for telling me to get the hell out.”

  “Well, why don’t you print out some of the information you got from the web about some of these psychics, and then let Elanor decide which ones to hire? She can make the checks out to them, not to you, and then she’ll have to know you’re not using the money for yourself.”

  Jenny waved her fork at Greg. “See! This is why I’m with you. It’s so simple, yet I never would have thought of that.”

  “And while you’re at it,” Greg said, “Why don’t you bring that paperwork from that private investigator you hired and see if she’ll pay you back for that, too? Three hundred dollars is a lot of money.” He raised his eyebrow at her.

  Jenny sighed. “I guess I’m not any good at being sneaky.” She took a bite of her dinner. “You know, it’ll be a weird conversation to go in and ask for that money.”

  “It can’t be any weirder than going in and telling her you’ve heard voices.”

  Jenny twisted her face. “Touche.”

  The next morning, Jenny knocked gently on Elanor’s half-open door. “Come in,” she called, and her face lit up immediately upon seeing Jenny. “Oh, hello, dear! Do come in! I’m afraid you’ll have to tell me your name again, though. I never forget a face, but I’ve always been terrible with names.”

  “Jenny. Jenny Watkins.” She pulled up the same chair and sat next to the bed.

  “Oh, that’s right. Jenny Watkins. So what brings you here today, Jenny Watkins? Have you gotten any more messages?”

  “No, I’m afraid not,” she admitted, “and unfortunately the medium I hired was a fraud. I spent two hundred and fifty dollars for nothing.” Jenny let out a nervous laugh. “She told me the house was haunted by a nine year old girl who died of pneumonia.”

  “Oh, well that’s clearly not true,” Elanor said bluntly. “Did you tell her she was full of shit?”

  Jenny laughed. “No, I was polite.”

  “I wouldn’t have been,” Elanor noted. “I stopped being polite decades ago. Once I hit forty I started calling a spade a spade. But I guess you’re not there yet.” Elanor winked.

  “No, not yet.”

  “Mark my words,” Elanor said. “When you turn thirty, you’ll become chronically cold. When you hit forty, you’ll stop giving a shit about trying to be polite.” She pointed at Jenny. “I’m telling you, it’s like clockwork.”

  “I’ll make a note of that.” Trying to stick to the issue at hand, Jenny added, “I’m sorry she was a fraud, though,” Jenny said, “I feel like I wasted your money.”

  Elanor made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Oh, don’t worry about that.”

  “Well,” Jenny said, “I’d like to try again with another psychic, if you’re willing.”

  “Oh, definitely. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

  “The only thing is,” Jenny said delicately, “I don’t really have the cash to hire another one.” She looked down at her lap. “We just bought the house and all…”

  “No need to explain, dear.” Elanor said laughing. “I should have thought of that before. Be a dear and hand me my purse, and I’ll write you a check.”

  As she crossed the room to get Elanor’s purse from a counter, Jenny added, “My husband had the idea that you could help me decide which psychics to hire next, and you could make checks out directly to them. That way you know I’m on the up and up.”

  “Well, I don’t doubt that you’re on the up and up,” Elanor said. “You knew about our code. No one could have possibly known that.” Elanor took the purse as Jenny handed it to her, “Although I do like the idea of making checks out to the psychics, just because it’s easier.”

  Jenny let out a sigh. “There’s one other thing.” She paus
ed, finding it difficult to say the next sentence. “My husband…he’s a bit of a penny pincher. He’s a little upset that I spent the money hiring the private investigator to find you, and he was wondering if you’d mind, um, covering that.”

  Elanor laughed at the difficulty Jenny had making the request. “Well, that’s reasonable. Darling, don’t ever feel funny asking for that. So how much was the private investigator?”

  “Three hundred dollars.”

  “Three hundred dollars? That’s quite a bit of money,” Elanor said, a mischievous spark gleaming in her eye. “I would think for that kind of money he should have at least done his job naked.”

  Jenny laughed, but then cringed at the thought of Kyle Buchanan naked. “I’m actually kind of glad he kept his clothes on, to tell you the truth.”

  “Oh. Too bad.” Elanor added, thumbing through her checkbook. “If my math is correct, I guess I owe you five-fifty.” She filled out a check and handed it to Jenny.

  Jenny smiled. “Thank you, Miss Elanor. Well, I’ve brought some information about some psychics. Would you like to take a look?”

  “Of course, dear,” Elanor said, “But I’m not sure I’ll be able to pick out a good one.”

  “Me neither,” Jenny replied, “but maybe if we work together we can come up with something.” Jenny and Elanor spent the next hour reading over psychic blurbs, trying to weed out the phonies. Jenny left with a list of five psychics to contact, blank checks made out to those psychics, and a personal check made out to her for five hundred and fifty dollars. She also left with a smile on her face, feeling as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. Perhaps there was a way she could get Elanor the answers she wanted without making a mess of her marriage.

  Over the next few days, Jenny had three more psychics over to the house; each one proved to be as phony as the one before. At first she was polite to them, entertaining their far-fetched prophecies and declarations. After a while, however, her patience began to wear thin. She could tell each one of them was fake the second she greeted them, and she was tired of wasting her time listening to fictitious ghost stories. Greg was clearly growing tired of it as well.