Star Walk

by Melissa Bowersock

  “Hmm. I see,” Paula said, but the agreement was non-committal.

  “Here’s what I’d like to do,” Lacey continued. “If you have the time, I’d like to meet with you and your grandmother and show you the video I took of Sam during his two encounters with Estelle. You’ll be able to see not only how unhappy she is, but also how badly she wants to see Celeste. I believe once you see this, you’ll realize we’re on the level, and we want nothing more than to help Estelle move on. We don’t want money. We don’t want anything from Celeste except the chance to help a tortured soul. That’s all we’re asking.”

  There was a thoughtful pause, but Lacey didn’t press. Take all the time you need, she thought.

  “You have to understand,” Paula said finally, “that people are constantly approaching my grandmother for help. This cause needs money, that cause needs an endorsement or a sponsor or something. She’s already involved with several organizations and can’t take on any more.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen her work with the animal foundation. What they do is admirable.”

  “But what people don’t realize is that it all takes a toll on her. She doesn’t just write a check and forget it. She gets emotionally involved, and it drains her. She’s a strong woman, but at ninety, that strength won’t last forever.”

  “Yes, I see that,” Lacey said. “She’s lucky she has someone like you to watch out for her.”

  “It’s the least I can do,” Paula said. “She’s done a lot for me over the years. She has plenty of friends and associates, but they don’t see her on the bad days when she doesn’t have the strength to get out of bed. They don’t see her crying her eyes out over the cruel things people do to their animals. They don’t know her like I do.”

  “No, I’m sure they don’t,” Lacey said. “And since you do know her so well, what do you think about getting together? What would be the best day, the best time? I promise I won’t take any more time than absolutely necessary, and once you’ve seen the video, it’ll be totally up to you whether we move forward or not.”

  “Let me look at my calendar,” Paula said, and Lacey felt the dawning of relief. “How about Thursday? Say, four o’clock? I’m a realtor, so I can juggle my schedule a bit.”

  “Thursday at four is perfect,” Lacey said. “It shouldn’t take more than half an hour or so.”

  “All right. I’ve got you down. We’ll see you then.”

  “Great,” Lacey said. “And thank you. I appreciate you being flexible on this.”

  “Well,” Paula said, “we’ll just see how it goes.”

  But Lacey had a sneaking suspicion she was smiling as she said it.

  ~~~

  Later that evening, Lacey called Sam to give him a head’s up.

  “I just want you to know we may or may not be able to take the final step to clear Estelle on Saturday,” she finished.

  “That’s unfortunate,” he said. “I sure hope the granddaughter will relent. If she doesn’t, and we can’t bring Celeste to the house, we may not be able to get Estelle to let go. That would certainly present problems for Deidre.”

  “I know,” Lacey said. “But I had a thought, maybe a way to sweeten the deal. Do you think it would throw a fly in the ointment if Paula came with Celeste? Then she could see exactly what we do, and I have a feeling the experience would remove all doubt about our authenticity.”

  “Hmm,” Sam said, mulling that over. “That’s not a bad idea. Not bad at all. And, no, I don’t think that would present a problem. Yeah, definitely offer that if you think it’ll seal the deal. I would guess it might give Celeste a little more support as well, having a family member with her.”

  “Exactly,” Lacey said. “Okay, I’ll keep that in my back pocket for Thursday.”

  “What’s happening with Lance?” he asked, switching subjects.

  “Oh, him.” Lacey laughed. “I kept running into brick walls, but then had a massive breakthrough.” She explained about the autopsy and her suspicion of the hidden heroin usage, then her conversation with Richard.

  “He said Lance was gay. And with his father having been a preacher, I think there’s our religious conflict. I’m pursuing that now.”

  “Gay?” Sam’s voice was thoughtful. “Lacey, do you remember me saying I got two energies there in that apartment? Male and female?”

  “Yes, but I haven’t found—”

  “It’s all him. It’s all Lance. I don’t know how we could prove it absolutely without talking to a sexual partner, but I’ll bet Lance took the female role in any encounters. Oh, yeah. It’s definitely him.”

  “Well,” Lacey said, relaxing back in her chair, “that’s an added bonus I didn’t expect. Cool. Now we just have to find the basis for the religious aversion and we should be able to send Lance on his way.”

  Sam chuckled. “You never cease to amaze me,” he said. “Your tenaciousness when you’re doing research is so absolute, it’s scary.”

  She laughed back. “Thanks, but we’re not done yet. I’ve still got to convince Paula to let Celeste help us.”

  “You will,” he said. “Of that I have no doubt.”

  ~~~

  TWELVE

  Buoyed by her progress on Tuesday, the next day Lacey let Lance simmer on a back burner while she made all her preparations for the meeting with Celeste and Paula. She downloaded her video onto her laptop and edited the two sequences with Estelle into a seamless whole. The two women had no need to know anything about Lance, so she carefully cut out all footage about him. When she was done, she reviewed the video and thought it pretty darn compelling, if she said so herself.

  Then she reviewed her notes on Estelle, looking for anything else she could add to her argument. Reading through, however, she realized there was nothing there that Celeste wouldn’t already know. She’d take her notebook for backup, but she doubted she’d need it.

  Preparing for this, preparing to do battle with a protective family caretaker, led her to think again about Margaret Nelson and Derrick’s sister, Allison. What if Allison really was the exact opposite of Paula, and was taking advantage of Margaret? What if Margaret really had no one else—no one but Lacey—to see to her best interests? Celeste was sharp; she’d lived a lot of years in a very competitive industry and was now involved with numerous foundations. Margaret didn’t have that kind of acumen. She’d been a hairdresser all her life, and her husband, Don—Derrick’s father—had been a building inspector. When he was alive, Don had made all the heavy decisions based on his training and position. Lacey remembered Margaret at Don’s funeral four or five years ago, and her impression then was that Don’s death had left the woman rudderless. At the time, of course, Derrick had been there to step in and take over that patriarch role, but now with him in prison, Margaret had no one to rely on but Allison.

  And if Allison had given in to a hidden streak of greed or lust for power, Margaret had nothing to fight back with.

  Well, shit, Lacey thought. She shut down her laptop and heaved a sigh. She guessed she was just going to have to bite the bullet and wade back into Derrick’s family. It was not what she wanted to do, but she could no more leave Margaret without an advocate than she could leave Estelle or Lance.

  Whether living or dead, if people needed her help, she was duty-bound to give it.

  ~~~

  On Thursday, she looked forward to the meeting with a strange mixture of confidence and anxiety. She felt sure she could make a solid presentation to the two women, but the outcome was totally up to Paula. Perhaps with both Lacey and Celeste leaning toward a satisfactory resolution—because Lacey knew Celeste was all in to help her sister—the two of them could convince Paula to lean in as well. She certainly hoped so.

  She thought, too, about what Paula had said about Celeste. The woman seemed to be a powerhouse, but obviously her energy resources were limited. Lacey hated to think of Celeste having bad days, unable to get out of bed. Paula was right: she knew Celeste like no one else.

  The thou
ght tripped a little switch in Lacey’s brain. As she shoved her laptop into its soft case and tossed her notebook in beside it, the idea rolled around.

  Knew her like no one else. Paula knew Celeste. Celeste knew Estelle.

  Who knew Lance? No one who was left alive. His wife, his friends, were all gone. Long gone.

  But… he had a daughter. She was only a toddler when he died, but might she not know something about him?

  Lacey lunged at her notebook and yanked it out of the case. Fumbling it open with one hand, she grabbed a pen with the other and wrote in capital letters: FIND DOREEN TYNAN.

  ~~~

  The exterior of the Meadow View Retirement Community was much like Lacey had expected. Three large apartment-style buildings in a horseshoe arrangement, lovely manicured grounds all around, palm trees and bougainvilleas swaying in the breeze. A large fountain spewed water into the air in front of the entry, lending its burbling voice to the calm ambiance.

  Lacey parked in a marked guest spot and pulled her laptop case with her as she slid out of the car. She pushed through the glass front door and headed for the elevator just off the large entry area.

  Unit 222, she remembered. Turn right out of the elevator and follow the numbers, Paula had said. Easy enough.

  When she stood in front of the door, she straightened her polo shirt, pushed her hair back off her forehead and knocked.

  The door swung open fully, which Lacey took as a good sign. At least Paula wasn’t barring the way. The lady was early to mid-forties, wearing a dark blue suit—jacket and skirt—over a white blouse. Very businesslike, Lacey realized, so she would be, as well.

  “Paula Ward? I’m Lacey Fitzpatrick.” She stuck out her hand and shook Paula’s, keeping her grip firm but friendly. “Thanks so much for seeing me.”

  “Come in,” Paula said, stepping aside. The invite did not include a smile.

  From inside the door, Lacey could see Celeste in the living room, ensconced in her wheelchair. Lacey thought about going to her but decided to wait for Paula’s escort. She didn’t want to do anything that looked like she was trying to go around the guardian.

  “Please,” Paula said, motioning for Lacey to proceed.

  “Thank you.” She went to Celeste then, setting her laptop on the couch, and taking the older woman’s hand. “I am so glad to meet you,” she said, holding Celeste’s hand in both of hers.

  Celeste smiled and her whole face lit up. “Lacey, how nice to meet you. Thank you for coming. Please, sit down. Would you like a cup of tea?”

  “Actually, I’m good,” Lacey said. She moved her laptop aside and sat on the couch. Paula took a chair next to Celeste, a not-so-subtle effort to show unity with her grandmother.

  Lacey could see the resemblance. Both had blue eyes, although Celeste’s had dimmed a bit with age. While Celeste’s hair had been dyed a becoming ash blonde, Paula’s was light brown with blonde highlights and cut to chin length. Celeste’s was short and upswept in an elegant coif. Both had expressive brows and a narrow, straight nose. Both regarded her silently.

  “What I thought I would do is show you the video first thing,” she said. “I could describe what we do all day and it still wouldn’t convey what the video will. Does that sound okay?”

  “Yes,” Celeste said immediately. Paula remained impassive. “How shall we do that?”

  Lacey opened her soft case. “I’ve got it all here on my laptop. Could we set up at the table?”

  Paula helped steer Celeste to the small dining room table and Lacey pulled two chairs close to either side of the wheelchair so they could all see the screen. She set up her laptop and booted it up, opening the video player.

  “Now, please keep in mind,” she said by way of introduction, “Sam knows nothing about the situation at this point except that the owner is having some strange experiences. We make it a point to not get the owner’s input until after Sam does his walk.”

  She clicked the play button on the screen and the video lurched into motion.

  Sam slowly walking the rooms of the first floor. The mention of parties, the mask of gaiety. The one room that was a sanctuary.

  While the video played, Lacey cast a subtle glance at Celeste. The woman seemed enthralled by what she was seeing, but when Sam mentioned the sadness, Lacey saw her brows furrow with pain.

  The video of the second floor kept the interest of both women. Sam staring over the balcony to the entry floor below. His mention of the library being another sanctuary. Lacey heard Celeste sigh softly.

  When the video skipped to Sam mounting the steps to the third floor, to his saying, “This is where it happens,” Lacey noticed Celeste shift in her wheelchair. She sat forward slightly, her hands clasped in her lap. One hand twisted a ring on her other hand.

  “Deception,” Sam said, his voice coming from the small speaker. “Deceiving. Lies. It’s crazy-making.”

  Celeste’s jaw tightened and her mouth pressed into a thin line.

  Sam continued his description of what went on in that apartment. Again Lacey heard the anger in his voice. “He steamrolled her.” Knowing what they knew now, it all fit so well. It was so clear.

  When Sam returned to the balcony and stared down at the floor below, when he said, “Pain; agonizing pain,” Lacey saw Celeste close her eyes and put a hand over her face. Lacey stopped the video. She was beginning to wonder if this really was a good idea. She felt bad about the pain she knew Celeste was reliving.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly. She wanted to put a hand on the old woman’s shoulder, but held off. “If… if you’d rather not see any more…”

  “No.” Celeste lifted her head and opened her eyes. They were dry, and they had a hard, glittering quality to them. “Play the rest. I want to see.”

  Lacey shot a quick glance at Paula on Celeste’s other side. Paula nodded almost imperceptivity.

  Lacey clicked the play button.

  “This is the second time we went,” she said. “By now, we knew who Estelle was, what the marriage was like. This was after I spoke to you, Celeste.”

  Sam walking up the stairs. As he gained the top stair and the third floor, he said, “She’s still here.” Lacey remembered her own disappointment.

  Sam in the apartment, addressing Estelle. Telling her they knew her truth. Lighting the smudge stick.

  Lacey saw Paula’s questioning look.

  “Smudge stick,” she explained softly. “It’s cleansing, purifying. Sam’s half-Navajo and employs traditional methods in his work.”

  Paula nodded and turned back to the small screen.

  Sam at the balcony railing, still speaking, still trailing blue smoke around him.

  “Celeste.” That soft, thin voice. It had the power to freeze Celeste and Paula where they sat.

  Sam’s voice. “Did you hear that?” Lacey remembered her own shock, and his. The voice came again, insistent.

  Then the camera bobbled, slewing sideways. In a moment it righted itself. Lacey stopped the video.

  “That was when I felt her push me from behind,” she explained. She clicked play again.

  Seeing Sam shoved by an unseen hand brought goosebumps back to Lacey’s arms. She heard a soft gasp from Celeste. When Sam implored Estelle, “Tell us what you need,” and that one ghostly word, her sister’s name, echoed through the air, Lacey wondered how Paula could possibly argue this.

  Then Lacey’s own voice rang out from behind the camera, asking Estelle if she wanted to see her sister. Estelle’s last word, her sister’s name, the sound fading like a sigh on the wind.

  Lacey turned the video off. She turned slightly in her chair, angling toward the other women. Paula’s gaze was still glued to the screen, to Sam frozen there.

  Celeste was staring at Lacey.

  “I have to go,” she said. “I have to see my sister.”

  Lacey didn’t respond right away. She wanted to check Paula’s expression, but kept her eyes on Celeste. “Are you sure?” she asked softly.


  “Oh, yes.” Celeste didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I have to. Thinking of her there, all these years…” Sadness crept into her voice, but then she sat up straighter and her voice hardened. “I have to go.”

  Lacey nodded, then looked over at Paula. Her expression was purposely blank, telling Lacey nothing. Celeste turned to her granddaughter. “I’m going,” she said. Her determination was obvious.

  Paula met her grandmother’s eyes for a few seconds, then shrugged. “All right,” she said. She didn’t sound totally all in, but apparently she would not fight Celeste. Not with that light of determination in those faded blue eyes.

  Celeste turned back to Lacey. “And it’s set for Saturday?”

  “Yes. We can pick you up at nine A.M., if that’s not too early.”

  “I’ll be ready,” she said.

  Lacey smiled with relief. That was a lot easier than she’d feared. But she recognized Paula’s ambivalence and hoped to allay that as well.

  “Paula, if it’s all right with Celeste, would you like to come, too?”

  Paula’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Celeste turned to her and took her hand.

  “I would love to have you with me,” she said. “You can meet your great aunt.”

  Lacey saw Paula’s lower lip quiver slightly, and she felt tears pricking her own eyes. Suddenly Paula laughed, nervous and happy at the same time. She leaned over to kiss Celeste’s papery dry cheek, then wiped her eyes with the heel of one hand.

  Celeste turned back to Lacey, all smiles. “Then it’s settled,” she said. “Oh, this will be wonderful. Lacey, I can’t thank you enough for this. You have made an old woman very happy.”

  “I’m glad,” Lacey said. She hesitated. “It’s just… I know this will be emotional. But if we can satisfy Estelle’s spirit, if we can give her peace, it’ll be worth the sadness.” She bit her lip. “You’ll be saying goodbye to your sister again. This time, for good.”