Celeste Files: Unlocked

by Kristine Mason

  “It’s not weird. At all. It sounds like you saw their auras.”

  “Yes, that’s it exactly. And they kept changing colors. The male’s started gray, turned a deep mustard, then brown. Later, he became dark red.”

  “And the other aura?”

  “It was female and black. Toward the end, wherever I was had changed. I was trapped in a white room. No windows, no doors. She…it…” Celeste let out a deep breath. “Her aura changed and…liquefied. It coated the ceiling. Like thick hot tar, it oozed and bubbled. I was so afraid of what would happen if it touched me.” She stared at Maxine. “What would her aura or whatever it was have done to me?”

  “I haven’t a clue, but I don’t recommend trying to find out. I do find it interesting that the male’s aura had so many changes. There’s no concrete evidence what the colors of a person or spirit’s aura indicates. In my experience, though, gray signifies depression or dark thoughts. The mustard color, I’m not quite sure. But from past experience, the brown could indicate insecurity.”

  Celeste jerked forward and slapped the armrest. “Yes. That makes sense. He turned brown after he complained that the ‘bitch had humiliated him’ when she’d turned him down for a loan. The question is, who’s the bitch? Sandra? I mean, I’m assuming so. They discussed the money they would get from her when she died.”

  “Perhaps their greed got the best of them,” Maxine suggested. “They could no longer afford to wait for Sandra to die on her own and decided to take matters into their own hands.”

  “Maybe. I do know the female was counting on receiving three hundred grand.”

  Maxine’s finely arch eyebrows rose. “Interesting. What else do you remember?”

  She told her everything. Unlike the visions she’d had of Sandra, or those she’d experienced in the past, the details from this one stayed locked in her memory. Along with tainted wickedness so cloying that she wanted to go home and take a hot bath in order to feel clean again.

  “I’ve experienced this type of deep-rooted hatred once before,” Celeste said, after she’d finished describing what she had seen. “I think what’s unsettling is the female has to be Lea.”

  “You did say this was her pen.”

  “And I also told you how Kelly’s husband gave Lea a couple of shots about her maxed-out credit cards and her car being repossessed.” She looked across the room to the gnome on the mantle. “What I find strange is that Lea came off…dominant.”

  Maxine chuckled. “Yes. She wanted him in position or he would be punished. You said his aura turned a dark red. That might indicate sexual thoughts.”

  Her cheeks grew warm. “It’s none of my business what people do in their bedroom or if they like to get their kink on, but what strikes me as odd is that Lea’s husband is supposedly a big-time attorney. He works for one of the largest law firms in Chicago and last year made partner. I can’t see a man like him allowing his wife to dominate him in the bedroom.”

  “I can,” Maxine said. “I once knew the CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation who spent his days ordering people around and dealing with the stress and pressure that went along with his position. But, in the privacy of his bedroom, he wanted to give up all control and let his partner take the lead.”

  “I couldn’t imagine John going along with me telling him to get into position or he’d be punished,” she said. “It’s not our thing.”

  “Nor mine, which is why that marriage didn’t last past four months.”

  Celeste stared at the other woman, waiting for her to crack a smile to indicate she was joking. When there was nothing, Celeste asked, “You’re serious?”

  “Yes, and I trust you’ll keep that private information to yourself. While he’s no longer a CEO and has retired, he has children from a previous marriage and I highly doubt he would want them to know about his sexual…preferences.” Maxine winked. “Pick up the notepad and make a few bullet points.”

  “You said ‘that’ marriage. I take it you were married before the CEO,” she said, grabbing the paper and pen from the floor.

  “Seven times.” Maxine lifted a shoulder. “I might be psychic, but I’m a lousy judge of character when it comes to men.” She looked to the notepad. “Did you draw anything this time?”

  Celeste ran her hands over the dried ink. “No.” She showed her the paper. “As it is, I can hardly make out my scribbles. What does a black aura mean? I’m assuming it’s a sign of a person with a dark personality.”

  “Absolutely. I’ve seen black in a few peoples’ auras. Not all of them were bad, but their spirits were cold. What’s interesting is there are usually other colors present. With what you described, I’d say the woman definitely has a dark, unforgiving soul.”

  “Combine that with the need for money and we have a possible murder suspect.”

  “Yet no evidence,” Maxine reminded her.

  “I’m already working on that. I called Ian and asked him to look into Sandra’s phone records, bank and credit card statements.”

  “You didn’t tell John, then.”

  Regret gnawed at her as she looked away. “No. I was going to, but the timing wasn’t right.” She glanced to the unicorn clock. “Speaking of which, I need to go to work.”

  Maxine rose, then walked her to the parlor door. “Don’t wait too long to tell him.”

  “You don’t understand,” Celeste said.

  “I understand more than you think. Remember, I’ve been married more times than I care to admit.”

  “Did your marriages end because of your gift?” Celeste asked, then shook her head. “Sorry. That was a rude question and clearly none of my business.”

  “You’re fine.” Maxine put an arm around her shoulder. “And no, my marriages didn’t end because of my gift. I simply picked the wrong men for me. Promise me one thing,” she said, handing Celeste her parka. “Don’t allow what you saw today to affect how you treat Lea. You could be wrong.”

  “And if I’m right?”

  “I don’t want you to end up like her mother.”

  *

  Thank God for her job. Dealing with payroll, placing orders for supplies the Sugar Shack would need for the following week, then helping with the two wedding cakes due tomorrow afternoon kept Celeste’s mind off what she’d seen at Maxine’s. But after she picked up the girls from the daycare, her stomach grew more and more nervous as she neared Kelly’s townhouse. Maxine suggested she could be wrong about Lea. While that was possible, how could she not conclude that the woman had murdered her own mother? She’d held Lea’s pen and had felt the woman’s hatred and greed deep within her bones.

  She had hoped Ian would have something for her to go on by now. When she’d called him after she had left the Sugar Shack, he’d told her that Rachel, CORE’s computer forensic analyst, had been swamped with regular cases, but would work on hers later this afternoon. He’d also mentioned his disappointment that she hadn’t confided in John. Ian and Maxine both needed to mind their own business. Once she had concrete evidence she could present to her husband, she’d tell him the truth and worry about the consequences later.

  She parked the Jeep, then sent a quick text to Kelly to let her know she was here and needed help with the girls. Right now, she needed to concentrate on maintaining a poker face in front of Lea, not on how John might react once she confessed what she’d been doing behind his back.

  Both Kelly and Lea exited the townhouse. Celeste pressed the button to open the Jeep’s gate, then climbed out of the SUV to grab their daughters’ diaper bags. As soon as she’d picked up the girls from daycare, she’d placed the wooden pen back into the Coach bag. Guilt might have nagged at her when she’d originally borrowed the pen, but not anymore. If anything, she’d love to find a way to take another item from Lea and use it for a reading. This last one hadn’t given her as much information as she’d hoped. Although her suspicions about Lea had been confirmed, an argument over money and black auras weren’t enough.

  “How’d Zoe
do?” Lea asked. “Did the daycare people follow my list of instructions?”

  “As far as I know,” Celeste answered, grateful she didn’t have to make eye contact with the woman, since Lea was hauling Zoe from the Jeep and handing her to Kelly so she could remove the car seat. “According to Nina, Zoe had a blast and even took a two-hour nap.”

  “That’s good to hear. Zoe never naps at the current daycare I use. Maybe I’ll consider switching until my au pair returns to the States.” Lea finished taking out the car seat. “I’m going to run this inside,” Lea said. “Be right back.”

  “How about Avery?” Kelly asked, after Lea walked away.

  “She napped, too. So did Olivia. Sounds like the girls played hard. How did everything go for you two?”

  “Fortunately Mom had the foresight to make her own funeral arrangements. We only had to deal with a few things. The attorney was a different story.”

  “It was a waste of time,” Lea said, approaching them. She took Zoe from Kelly. “We weren’t even allowed to look at the will.”

  “Oh, no. Why’s that?” Celeste asked, then held Avery while Kelly removed her car seat.

  “Because not all parties were present.” Lea shook her head. “The attorney was a jerk. He wouldn’t tell us who we were waiting on, either.”

  Kelly set the car seat on the sidewalk, then shut the door. “We’ve been trying to figure out who it could be.”

  “I still think it could be Brandon,” Lea said.

  “Mom wouldn’t have put Brandon in her will. She never liked either of our husbands. I still think it’s Dad. Although I have no clue why she’d include him after the way he walked out on her.” She sighed and picked up the seat. “I’ll be right back.”

  After Kelly left, Celeste asked, “I thought Kelly said your mom divorced your dad?”

  “She did, after she caught him having an affair.”

  “Are you talking about Dad?” Kelly asked when she returned.

  “Unfortunately.”

  Kelly shook her head and took Avery from Celeste. “Yeah, I think what hurt our mom the most was that the other woman wasn’t any younger than her. I think she could’ve justified the affair if he’d chased after a girl half his age. You know—newer, younger model, and all. But to take up with a woman his own age? That was a slap in the face for her.”

  Which meant the relationship wasn’t just physical, but emotional.

  “He’s an asshole,” Lea said. “And he doesn’t deserve a thing from Mom. I have a hard time believing she’d leave him anything.” She let out a breath. “Sorry, Celeste. It’s been a long day. Thank you again for taking Zoe.” Lea picked up her Coach diaper bag, then turned to Kelly. “I’ll see you inside.”

  When Lea left, Kelly said, “Lea’s never been good with showing her emotions. Instead of being a blubbering mess like me, she shows her sadness through anger.”

  “Everyone deals with their grief differently. I think she has every right to be angry. You just lost your mom, and now it sounds like you two are forced to deal with your father.”

  Kelly shifted Avery to her other hip, then picked up the diaper bag. “Don’t get either of us wrong. It’s not like we don’t love him, we just don’t like how he treated our mom.”

  Unsure what to say, Celeste glanced inside the Jeep and noticed Olivia had taken off her shoes and socks, and was now pulling at the straps of her car seat. “I better get going. Is there anything I can do to help you out tomorrow?”

  “No. I think we’re good, thanks. Since it’s Saturday, Dale will be around if I need to leave.”

  “When is the wake?”

  “Sunday. My mom arranged for one showing, and since she’d chosen to be cremated, the memorial service will be held the next day. The obituary will post later today in case you plan to come.”

  “Of course I’ll be there.” Celeste rested a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Why don’t you let me take Avery to the daycare for you during the wake and funeral?”

  “That’s okay. Lea and I decided to bring the girls with us. Our aunts are coming into town and want to see the babies, so they can help out if they get fussy.”

  “If you change your mind, I’m here for you.”

  Kelly’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you.” When Kelly hugged her, Avery latched onto Celeste’s curls. She and Kelly both laughed as Celeste took care of Avery’s iron grip. “You’re a good friend,” Kelly said, and gave her a watery smile. “I really appreciate knowing I have you in my life.”

  After they said their good-byes and Celeste drove home, the guilt returned. Not only was she keeping secrets from her husband, she was trying to discover if her friend’s sister was a murderer. The way Lea had acted outside of Kelly’s townhouse had been genuine. Finding out that Sandra had disliked both of her sons-in-law and the reason why she’d divorced her husband had doubt creeping in and taking root. While it was possible the black aura had belonged to Lea, there had been no mention of murder or of speeding along her mother’s death. Maybe what she’d witnessed had been nothing more than husband and wife not only counting on money, but counting down the days until Sandra died. Although horrible, their conversation in no way made either of them killers. Maybe she was wrong and Sandra had committed suicide after all.

  As she slowed to stop at a red light, her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID, then quickly answered. After she greeted her dad, she asked, “Well, was Rachel able to find anything?”

  “Does the name and number of not only the private investigator Sandra used to locate her secret daughter, but the daughter herself work?”

  Chapter 7

  CELESTE PLACED THE empty clothes baskets into their small laundry room, then smothered a yawn with her hand. She popped her head around the corner and smiled when she saw John lounging on the couch, Olivia snuggled at his side and drinking her bottle. Yeah, she should probably nix the nighttime bottle, but it wasn’t as if her daughter would be taking one when she was in kindergarten. The bottle made Olivia happy, which made her happy—and bedtime easier.

  “I’m thinking about taking a soak in the tub,” she said, then moved toward the couch. She smiled and touched Olivia’s blond curls, which her daughter had inherited from her. Hopefully she’d come to appreciate them, and not do as she’d done and spent countless hours with a flatiron.

  “Need any help?” John asked. “I’m good like that.”

  She chuckled, then leaned down and kissed him. “I know how good you are,” she said, then kissed him again.

  “You’re not so bad yourself.” He frowned. “At least I think so. It’s been so long, I can’t remember.”

  “Hello? How about last night?”

  “Oh, yeah. It’s all coming back to me.”

  She gave his arm a light slug. “You’re not helping yourself.”

  “Probably not. But like I said, I can help you with your shower.”

  “Tub.”

  “Right. Since when? You hate taking baths.”

  “Mama,” Olivia said, holding the empty bottle out to her.

  She smiled at her daughter, then bent and kissed her cheek. “I just feel like soaking in the tub,” she said, moving into the kitchen. After she rinsed Olivia’s bottle, then placed it in the dishwasher, she poured herself a glass of chardonnay. “Let’s put her to bed, then I’ll go for a quick soak.”

  “I have her. You go and relax.”

  The control freak in her didn’t care for the idea. “No. I’m always there at night-night time,” she said in a silly voice, and tickled Olivia’s belly.

  Her daughter’s squeal of laughter helped relieve the heaviness she’d been carrying with her all day. “Come here,” she said, scooping up Olivia. “Let’s go say our prayers before we go to bed.”

  John stood and followed her into their daughter’s bedroom. Together they said the ‘Now I lay me down to sleep’ prayer she’d learned as a child. For an adult, it was a morbid prayer. Why she continued with it, she didn’t know.
r />   Once Olivia was tucked in her crib, she headed toward their bedroom door. John snagged her arm. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You seemed a little distracted at dinner and now you’re taking a bath.”

  “Did I? I’m sorry.” She circled her arms around his waist. “We were busy as the bakery today, then I ran into a problem with a supplier. I also told you about the interview—”

  “Which you said went fine.”

  “It did, but I was distracted. Maybe I should interview her again.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Or maybe you should let your new manager handle it.”

  She nodded. “I’m starting to think I have control issues.”

  He laughed. “Starting?”

  She grinned. “Whatever.”

  He gave her rear a squeeze, then kissed her lips. “Go soak. Call if you need me. I am good with a washcloth.”

  “So you’ve reminded me,” she said with a grin.

  When he headed back into the living room, she picked up the glass of wine she’d left on her dresser, then went into their master bathroom. While the tub filled, she washed off her makeup. After she toweled her face dry, she looked at her reflection and hated what she saw.

  A liar.

  After she’d spoken with Ian, then returned home, she had called the private investigator and set up an appointment with him for tomorrow morning. She’d made no mention of Sandra or her secret daughter, Tracy Saunders, but had kept her reasons for seeing him vague. Minutes ago, when John had mentioned noticing she’d been distracted during dinner, she could have fessed up then, but had chickened out. What was even worse was that she’d lied to him earlier and had told him that she’d likely be gone most of tomorrow because she had to go into work.

  She dropped the hand towel on the counter, then began undressing. On the bright side, the private investigator might be able to give her something concrete—what, she didn’t know—that she could present to John. If that ended up being the case, by this time tomorrow there would be no more lying. There might be bickering, but at least she would no longer have to carry around the guilt that had been slowly tightening around her neck.