by K. J. Emrick
Speaks the Blue Jay
A Moonlight Bay Psychic Mystery Book 8
K. J. Emrick
Kathryn De Winter
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
More Info
About the Authors
First published in Australia by South Coast Publishing, March 2018. Copyright Kathryn De Winter and K.J. Emrick (2017-2018)
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This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and locations portrayed in this book and the names herein are fictitious. Any similarity to or identification with the locations, names, characters or history of any person, product or entity is entirely coincidental and unintentional.
- From a Declaration of Principles jointly adopted by a Committee of the American Bar Association and a Committee of Publishers and Associations.
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Chapter 1
“You know,” Jack Travis said with a laugh, “if this minivan was just an inch smaller, there would have been no way for us to get all this gear in.” He turned in his seat behind the driver and looked over the mound of camping equipment that had been shoe-horned into the back of the van.
“Perhaps next time we will go for something bigger.” Jean-Paul Devereux laughed from the front passenger seat, bobbing his head furiously in agreement. The thin, stately man had always reminded Miranda of a scarecrow. A scarecrow with debonair looks and a thin, waxed mustache. “Something like an RV where we can sleep inside in comfort. The tent was nice, I’m sure, but a little creature comfort would be even nicer. Seriously, packing all of that stuff was like doing one of those shape puzzles. You remember Tetris, non? Anyone remember Tetris?”
Miranda Wylder laughed in the backseat, next to Jack. It was good to have friends. She couldn’t remember the last time she had taken a weekend to just hang out with the people she really liked. Between being a bestselling mystery writer, and a psychic, her life was just a little too full for fun.
She didn’t need to be a psychic to know that Jean-Paul hadn’t enjoyed the camping trip the way the rest of them did. Camping wasn’t his thing. He was a second-generation immigrant of French descent and had grown up in cities before moving to the quiet, restful town of Moonlight Bay. He still had some of his French accent, which Miranda found so endearing. It was pretty obvious that he would much rather have spent the weekend staying home to do a wine tasting. He’d complained about everything from the weather to the canned food to the thin sleeping bags. The only reason he came was because he was a good friend.
Their group of four—plus one ghost and a golden retriever—were on their way back home from that trip now, back to the world of running hot water and soft beds and restaurant meals. Back to jobs and responsibilities and whatever else life was going to throw their way. For Miranda, she never knew what that might be.
“Boys, boys,” Sapphire Moon-Flower chided from behind the steering wheel. “Now. We’re nearly home. Can we please stop complaining about the van? It will be back with the rental company soon enough.”
Sapphire had been the one to rent the van. She’d offered to do all the driving on both legs of the three hour trip and no one had really argued about that, even if they’d had two near death experiences so far. One with a deer, the other with a sharp curve and gravity. The laws of nature weren’t willing to bend, even a little, but Miranda’s friend believed the universe would take care of her, so long as she was wearing the right crystal around her neck to adjust her aura.
Sapphire was a free spirit, and everything about her was long and flowing, from the tight braids in her hair to her beaded earrings to the oversized rainbow colored sleeveless top and cargo pants she was wearing. In contrast, Miranda was something of a tomboy, with her jeans and her t-shirts that emphasized what she was proud to say was still a very feminine body even at her age. Forty-something, and still her deep red hair and her perfect lips turned heads.
Of course, right now she looked like someone who had been out in the woods for three days. Scuffed with dirt and badly in need of a shower.
“It really is good to get back to nature,” Sapphire declared. “It returns us to our primal state and allows our etheric body to settle harmoniously into place. Being in nature, it just aligns you again.”
Yup. Definitely a child of the universe, that one. Miranda loved her like a sister, even with all of her odd ways. Sapphire insisted that she could see ghosts, and that she was in tune with the other side, and she always kept at least one crystal shard on her at all times. Miranda happened to know that her friend was no more in tune to the world of ghosts than a potted fern, but she didn’t let that bother her. In fact, she never even brought it up. She just let her friend be who she was.
And of course, the reason why she knew Sapphire had no real connection to the spirit world, was floating in the van right behind her.
“For goodness sake,” Kyle Hunter said in his wavery, ghostly voice. “Sometimes I wish she would just hum a mantra like every other hippie flower child.”
Tact had never been Kyle’s strong suit, even back when he’d been alive. Now that he was a ghost, and he didn’t have to keep up appearances, there were times he could be downright rude. Miranda was glad that nobody else in the van but her could hear him. She gave him a sharp look, however, letting him know that she was not amused.
He stuck his tongue out at her, and although she wanted to be stern she could barely keep herself from laughing out loud. Sapphire was her best friend among the living. Kyle had been her best friend forever, even after death. Now he fancied himself a sort o
f spirit guide, and he stuck by her side pretty closely.
Kyle was rail-thin, tall and wiry, with a sandy brown beard a shade or two lighter than the tousled hair on his head. At least, in life he had been. Now he was blurred by a hazy blue light. It was the appearance ghosts had in this world. As a spirit guide, Kyle was a stronger ghost than most, more skilled in things like appearing and disappearing, and moving objects. He could even change his clothing when he wanted, and now he had changed himself into what he considered camping appropriate attire. He was wearing a goofy cap with a dancing fish on it and a loose t-shirt tucked into khaki shorts. When Miranda had first seen him wearing that, complete with sandals, she’d nearly killed herself trying to keep from laughing.
Sitting between her and Jack, Butter–the golden retriever–whuffed and repositioned himself to put his paws up on the back of the seat. He snuffled at the air where Kyle’s ghost was half in, half out of the camping gear. Those two had a love-hate relationship going on. Most animals could see ghosts, and dogs better than most. Butter just loved to find Kyle wherever he went. Kyle, for his part, wanted nothing to do with dogs. He just didn’t have any choice in the matter because Butter was Miranda’s dog, and where she went, so did he.
“Go wag your tail somewhere else,” Kyle told the pooch. “Miranda, you know all that stuff Sapphire is spouting is nonsense. I don’t even know what an etheric body is, or whatever. I’m positive she made that word up. Maybe. Er, maybe I should ask some of the other spirit guides. I mean, if it is a thing then I should know about it, right? Oh, but it would kill me to find out Sapphire was right about something for a change. I mean, it would kill me if I wasn’t already a ghost.”
This time, Miranda covered her mouth to keep the laughter in.
After that, quiet settled into the van again as the miles rolled away. Jack helped Butter get down again, and the dog curled up with his head on Jack’s lap. In no time, Butter was snoring.
“Glad he’s comfortable,” Jack muttered, but he smiled as he said it. “I suppose I’ve finally won him over.”
He was trying to joke about it but Miranda knew that was an honest concern of his. Jack was Miranda’s boyfriend, and sleepovers at Miranda’s place got a little awkward when a big golden-haired dog was eyeing you jealously. Butter wanted Miranda all to himself and there were times that he barely gave Jack space to breathe, and other times when he followed Jack around begging to have his belly rubbed. Lately, however, Butter had started to accept Jack as part of the family.
Miranda studied the lines of Jack’s face, just like she’d done a hundred times before. He had dark hair, and deep blue eyes, and a strongly masculine profile that sent a thrill up her spine whenever they were this close. Gorgeous wasn’t a word she used for men very often, even in her novels when she was writing, but it definitely fit Jack Travis. His jeans and his flannel shirt defined a body that was toned and as nearly perfect as any man she’d ever been with. That was icing on the cake though. What she really liked about him was his soul. He was smart, and creative, and funny.
She reached across Butter and put her hand in Jack’s. “My dog has accepted you, it seems. And he loves you.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Jack said with a boyish grin. “I mean, what’s not to love?”
“Absolutely.”
Miranda closed her eyes again, letting the gentle movement of the van under her lull her towards sleep. She felt the world outside the van go by, and a sensation of peace came over her, and a dream was right there waiting to show her a world of possibilities.
Which of course is when Jack decided he wanted to talk.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked her. “The weekend in the woods must have taken your mind away from that newspaper clipping and everything, right?”
“I guess I’m feeling better, thank you.” She sat up reluctantly, knowing that a good half hour nap had only been a few seconds away. “I mean, it’s not every day that you get sent a mysterious newspaper clipping that rearranges everything you thought you knew about your family. All things considered, yeah, I’m fine.”
As much as Miranda was trying to play the thing down, she could not think about the newspaper clipping she had been sent anonymously without a little shudder going through her.
Her Aunt Connie had been missing for years and years. It was something the rest of the family never talked about now, but when it had first happened it had been devastating. As time had passed with no trace of Connie anywhere, it had gradually become obvious that Connie was dead.
Now, someone sent her a story cut out of a newspaper that seemed to say just the opposite. Connie might be alive after all.
Her world had been turned upside down. This weekend had been meant to ease her mind. It only sort of worked.
From behind her, Kyle put his transparent, almost-there hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Miranda. We’ll figure it out.”
She put her hand over his, sort of, masking the movement by pretending she had a crick in her neck. His hand felt like she was touching a live wire. A humming electricity that tingled and felt cold at the same time.
Miranda could still remember every word of that newspaper clipping, even now when she hadn’t looked at it in days. It was safely back at the family home, locked in a drawer at Ragged Rest. Each word was etched into her memory.
Moonlight Bay Woman’s Disappearance Deepens
That was just the headline. The rest of it was even more interesting, to say the least.
“We’ll figure it out,” Jack said, in almost the exact same way that Kyle had. It earned him a glare from the ghost that of course he couldn’t see. Those two had an even more tenuous friendship going on than Jack had with Butter.
At least Miranda didn’t have to worry about Kyle curling up with his head in Jack’s lap. He was insanely attracted to Miranda’s handsome police detective boyfriend. Jack was exactly the type of guy he would have gone for when he was alive, but now that Kyle was dead, she wouldn’t have to compete with him for Jack’s attention.
Besides. Jack was as straight as any man could be. Miranda could attest to that.
“Excuse me?” Jean-Paul said, turning around in his seat. “What is it you two are whispering about, hmm? It sounds très intéressant. A newspaper clipping? You will figure what out?”
“What?” Sapphire piped up, looking at Jack and Miranda in the rear view mirror. “Jean-Paul, what are you going on about? What gossip are you getting into?”
“There has been some quiet talk in the back between our friends, about some newspaper clipping or other.” Jean-Paul’s eyes fairly glittered with interest. His mustache twitched as he pursed his lips. “I was just wondering if we could all hear this story? It is not polite to keep secrets, after all.”
“Hey, don’t pry!” Sapphire said, and swatted his shoulder.
The van swerved as she did it, and she quickly put her hands back on the wheel to bring them back into their lane.
After a moment for everyone to catch their collective breath, Jack cleared his throat. “Why don’t we all just enjoy the rest of the journey back home in peace. I think Miranda was trying to get some sleep, actually.”
“You tell ‘em, Jack,” Kyle said. “They don’t need to pry.”
“It’s okay,” she told them both. “Jean-Paul is just worried about me.”
“So am I, honey,” Sapphire put in quickly. “Um. I think. Is there something to be worried about?”
Behind her Kyle made a rude noise, and she could practically feel him rolling his eyes. “Oh, this woman would drive a saint to drink.”
Miranda wanted to remind him that he had never been a saint, ever, not even when he was alive and writing restaurant reviews as a food critic.
All eyes were still on her. She realized that there was nothing for it but to share her burden. Her friends knew there was a problem now, and they were curious people to begin with. Jack gave her an apologetic look for ever bringing it up here, even if he had been whispering. It didn’t
matter. This was something too big to keep to herself.
For a place like Moonlight Bay, that was saying a lot.
“Well,” she started, “um, just before we left for our camping trip I got an anonymous letter. Well, it wasn’t a letter, actually, but it was anonymous.”
“Go on,” Jean-Paul said, having swiveled almost completely around in his seat to face her.
“Well, you know my neighbors, Isabel and Deirdre?”
“Of course. The nice old lady, and that vicious shrew of a niece who lives with her?” Jean-Paul said derisively.
“Hey, that’s not nice,” Sapphire objected immediately.
“Maybe not,” Kyle muttered, “but it’s true.”
Miranda couldn’t argue. She adored Isabel, and felt sorry that her health had taken such a turn in her old age. At the same time, Isabel’s niece Deirdre was an annoying busybody. Living on the same street with them was a challenge at best.
“So, where do the nice old lady and the vicious niece fit in?” Jean-Paul asked.
“Deirdre had an envelope handed to her that was addressed to me,” Miranda explained. “Inside the envelope was an old newspaper clipping. It, um, had a personal connection to me.”
“Oh?” Jean-Paul hummed. “Well. Now I am intrigued.”
“Me, too,” Sapphire chirped, “and I’m never one to gossip.”
“Oh really?” Kyle jumped on that. “Then there must be two Sapphire Moon-Flowers running around out there. You have a twin, Sapphire?”
Miranda gave him a look, and he stopped, but he folded his arms across his chest to show he didn’t appreciate being hushed.