“I don’t think the spirit in the basement is Everett Rawlins,” Brenda said, walking back into the main room and lifting her purse from the table.
“If it’s not Everett, then who is it?” Shay narrowed her eyes. She didn’t know whether to believe Brenda’s hunch or not.
“I don’t have a firm handle on that yet, but hold on. I’m receiving a message right now, and I think it’s Rawlins coming through.” She closed her eyes and flung the back of her hand to her forehead in dramatic fashion. Shay watched Brenda’s chest rise and fall as she inhaled deep, cleansing breaths.
“What kind of message are you getting?” Shay’s muscles twitched. Although Brenda’s behavior suddenly seemed melodramatic, she still hoped the psychic medium was not a fake and could help somehow.
“He’s trying to tell me something, but it’s hard to understand. His words are garbled. I’m seeing blood. Blood is filling his mouth, making it difficult for him to speak.”
Shay gulped, picturing that vivid picture.
“I can tell you he’s not here in the Buckhorn,” Brenda continued. “Mr. Rawlins’ spirit is stuck somewhere. He’s not far from here, but something, or someone, is holding him back.”
“Do you mean he’s in limbo? Is he between heaven and hell?”
Brenda’s eyes popped open, and her voice grew lively. “Shay, the newspaper article you read said he’d been shot. The townsfolk must have buried him. Do you have any idea where his grave is located?”
“I’ve already looked for it in the Black View Cemetery with no luck. That’s the only public cemetery in town, I was told. I don’t suppose the town would have buried him on the church grounds, seeing how he was a murderer. Do you?”
Brenda touched her arm. “Rawlins is guiding me to his grave. He wants us to find it. We should go now.”
Shay remembered the last time she was in the graveyard. She wasn’t anxious to return, but her confidence in Brenda was starting to grow. She wanted answers to the haunting, and perhaps Brenda was the one to provide them after all.
“Let me grab my purse.”
Thirty-Four
Brenda drove. When they parked at the bottom of the hill at the cemetery, she slipped off her heels and exchanged them for a pair of tennis shoes that were lying on top of a folded pile of clothes in the back seat.
“I always keep a change of clothes in my car for an impromptu outing such as this.” She plunged her feet into the sneakers and then slammed the car door.
“This way,” Shay said, starting up the hill. It was just as peaceful as it had been the other day before the storm hit and all hell had broken loose. Shay looked up. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
Brenda seemed to know where she was going. She passed Shay and trudged forward with quick steps in a definite direction.
“Is Everett speaking to you now?” Shay asked, hobbling and puffing to keep up. Her foot was still a bit sore from the fall she’d taken when she was here last.
“Not in words. His energy is guiding me.”
As they crossed in front of Denise Morgan’s headstone, Shay glanced around, wondering if she’d see the bluebird again. There was no sign of him today, or his chirping. She was surprised when Brenda paused in front of the stone.
“You must know Colt Morgan,” she said. “He was the listing agent for the Buckhorn.”
“Yes. He handled the sale of the saloon.”
Brenda smiled. “I heard he’s been handling more than real estate transactions lately.”
Shay felt the hairs on her arms prickle. “I don’t know what you mean.” She didn’t like the insinuation, nor did she care for the smug look on Brenda’s face.
“This is a small place, and Colt’s a well-known single man. When he starts dating the new girl in town, word spreads like wildfire.”
“You’ve been misinformed. We’re not dating.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. That was what I heard. In that case, there won’t be any conflict of interest, which is good.”
“What conflict of interest would there be?” Shay didn’t comprehend what Brenda was getting at.
“Colt and I went out for a while. You could say we were close. We’ve known each other forever. I wouldn’t want there to be any awkwardness between you and me because of my relationship with him.”
Shay’s stomach gripped as if she’d been struck a blow. Colt and Brenda had dated? Why hadn’t he told her? No wonder he’d been against her calling Brenda for help. He didn’t want her to find out about their relationship. He’d called Brenda a nut so she wouldn’t call and find out about the two of them. When had they dated, and for how long? Just how close had they been?
Shay’s gaze traveled up and down Brenda’s slender frame as questions mounted in her mind. The foremost one was, had Colt slept with her? She squeezed her fists at her side. Even though she’d been the one to end it, she couldn’t stand the thought of him with anyone else.
With jealous heat scorching through her veins, Shay wanted to change the subject before Brenda offered more about her relationship with Colt than she was prepared to hear. “Are you still receiving a message from Everett?” She tried her best to keep her voice from trembling.
A noise coming from the old section of the graveyard caught the attention of them both.
“This way,” Brenda called, as she dashed toward the far corner of the cemetery. Not far from Callie’s grave, she stopped and placed her finger to her lips to warn Shay to keep quiet. All was hushed except for the rustling of insects in the grass.
Shay glanced toward Callie’s gravesite. It appeared undisturbed from the last time she was here. Her neck pivoted, and she bit back a squeal when she felt Brenda’s fingernails digging into her arm.
“Over there,” Brenda whispered, pointing.
Standing next to a stone marker was a man. Shay knew he’d once been human, but he was no longer of this earthly plane. Wearing typical cowboy garb, he could have been any cowhand, except for his ashen face, the hole that had ripped his shirt apart near his heart, and the blood dripping from the corners of his mouth.
Shay struggled to hold in a scream. She was absolutely certain the apparition with stubbly cheeks and dark eyes was Everett Rawlins. Her gaze flew to Brenda, who seemed to have suddenly delved into a trance.
“Brenda! What’s wrong?”
Her eyes were glazed, and she stared straight ahead, unmoving. “Wake up,” Shay urged, jiggling her arm. Brenda remained motionless.
When the man took a step forward, Shay felt her body turn cold as ice. “Stay back!” She glanced at Brenda again, who was in a definite stupor. Her heart hammered. Everett took another step. Shay screamed, “I know who you are and what you did to Callie! And what you tried to do to me, too!”
Unbelievably, at the mention of Callie’s name, the man’s countenance seemed to change. She could swear his face went from dead and blank to his eyes flickering with life. Just as quickly, his mouth drooped. His lips began to form words, but unfortunately his words were illegible.
Feeling a magnetic pull that she was defenseless to stop, Shay’s legs spontaneously began to move. Turning her head, she saw Brenda was still rooted to her spot, seemingly unaware of what was transpiring around her. As if a rope was tied around her waist and being drawn with invisible hands, Shay felt her body tugged toward Everett. She should have feared for her life, but a weird sense of calm washed over her instead. She was about ten feet away when he looked down at the marker. He gazed sideways to where Callie lay buried, and then met Shay’s gaze once more before fading away.
With her heart in her throat, Shay fell to her knees and read aloud the words on the marker. “Everett Rawlins. Died 1885.” That was it. No other inscription.
Something didn’t feel right. Why had his face changed when she called out Callie’s name? And why had he eyed Callie’s grave with longing? Did ghosts have feelings? Did he regret murdering the young woman? Did he wish to be forgiven? Was that what he’d been trying to tell her just now?
Another sensation drew her gaze to the untended mound of grass at the base of his marker. Poking up through the tall blades was a ring. She scooped up the tarnished band that hung from a thin chain and studied it. Was this what Everett had been looking at when his gaze had dropped to the ground before he vanished? Was this the reason he had guided Brenda here? So they could find the ring? What did it mean?
“Shay!”
She spun to find Brenda had awakened from the trance and staggered toward her. With more pieces being added to the puzzle at every turn, and unsure whether she trusted Brenda or not, Shay shoved the chain in her pocket and scrambled to her feet.
“Are you all right?” she asked, placing her hands on Brenda’s shoulders.
Brenda wobbled like she was drunk. “I feel exhausted. That has never happened to me before. The last thing I remember was seeing a man right here where we’re standing and then, boom. I must have blacked out. Did you see him? Was the man Everett?”
Once again doubting Brenda’s true abilities and intentions, Shay decided to keep her experience with Everett to herself for the time being. She couldn’t explain Brenda’s trance, but right now she didn’t care if she’d been faking or not. She needed time to think.
“It was only a shadow,” she reported. “But this is Everett Rawlins’ grave. You found it.” She tapped on the stone. “There doesn’t appear to be anything of significance here, however. I think we’ve been led on a wild goose chase. Let’s go back to town. You look pale.” She was anxious to be rid of Brenda and ponder over Everett, Callie, and the ring.
When they reached the car, Brenda still felt fatigued and asked Shay to drive back. At the Buckhorn, Shay pulled two fifty-dollar bills from her wallet and handed them to Brenda before stepping out of the car.
“Thank you for coming today. I appreciate your help in locating Everett’s burial site. I hope you’ll feel better soon.”
Accepting the cash as she scooted into the driver’s seat, and still looking confused, Brenda said, “I’ll be happy to come over and conduct the ceremony to guide those other spirits into the light. Just give me a call and we’ll arrange a time.”
“I will.”
“Shay,” Brenda said through the open window, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to give you more information about Elizabeth and Rawlins. I’d be glad to try to contact them again. I want to help.”
“I’ll call you,” Shay said, before stepping onto the curb. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d be calling her back. As Brenda’s car pulled away and moved down the street, Shay’s cell phone rang. She didn’t look at the I.D. “Hello.”
“Hi, Shay. It’s Colt.”
Her knees grew weak at hearing his voice. Then she remembered what Brenda had told her about the two of them dating.
“I know what you told me last night, but I need to see you,” he said. “All I want is a few minutes of your time. I have something very important to tell you.”
She considered it. “Okay. I have something to tell you, too. Are you in your office?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Thirty-Five
Colt rose from his desk when Shay stepped through the door. As always, one of her smiles was all it took to snatch his breath away. “Thanks for coming over.”
“You’re welcome.” Her gaze landed on the unoccupied chair scooted up to the front desk. “Where’s your secretary?”
“Out to lunch.”
After a pause, she said, “I’m beginning to wonder if you really have a secretary.”
He chuckled. “I do.”
“Is she young and pretty?” Shay’s eyebrow arched.
Not understanding, he tilted his head. “Why do you ask?”
“With only the two of you in the office, I guess you and her must be pretty close.”
“What kind of question is that? And what relevance does it have to anything?” Shay had a strange look on her face.
“How many women have you gotten close to, Colt? I’m curious. Did they all know you’re weren’t interested in a committed relationship when you started seeing them?”
“What the hell?” He stepped back with his mouth hanging open, not believing what he was hearing. This didn’t seem like the Shay he knew. The jealous attitude seemed out of character. Or maybe not. He’d only known her a short time, he reminded himself.
She didn’t skip a beat. “I met Brenda Preston and she doesn’t act nuts to me. Oh, and by the way, I know about you and her.” Her arms crossed in front of her breasts, and her mouth drew into a tight line.
“Hold on,” he said, understanding now. “What did that woman tell you?”
“Why don’t you tell me? Let’s see if your stories jive.”
He cleared his throat. “There’s nothing to tell, except that we went out a couple of times. It was a long time ago and we only went on two dates, if you’d even call them dates. Two,” he emphasized, holding up two fingers. “I’ve known Brenda since we were kids in school, but I was never interested in her. Not in the way you’re insinuating.”
“Which way is that?”
He knew what was bugging her. “In a physical way,” he stressed.
“If that’s true, then what made you become interested enough to date her?”
“I didn’t.” He shook his head again and clarified calmly. “It was a couple of years ago, when I was still going out to bars. We were at the same dive one night, and we sat at a booth together and she told me she’d just broken up with some guy. After a few laughs and reminiscing about high school, we agreed to meet for a drink the next night, as friends. A week later, she invited me to a party. I knew the host, so I accepted. At the end of that evening, Brenda let me know she was interested in being more than friends. But she wasn’t my type. A relationship would have gone nowhere and I told her so. By then, I wasn’t into dating just for the hell of it. She didn’t like my honesty, apparently. She screamed a few choice words before storming off and then she keyed my truck. That was the same night I gave up on dating altogether.”
After finishing his story, Shay’s shoulders sagged. She uncrossed her arms. “So you never slept with her?” Her voice came out small, like a child’s.
A hearty laugh erupted from deep within his belly. She was jealous! Thank you, God, for small miracles. “Lord no, darlin’. I swear what I’ve told you about Brenda is the truth and nothing but the truth.” He put his hand up as if he were giving an oath in front of a judge.
She still didn’t seem totally convinced.
“Why did you tell me she’s a nut? I expected to meet someone who smelled of incense and chanted in tongues. She acts pretty normal to me.”
“I shouldn’t have called her that,” he admitted. “I was basing the term on what happened between us last time I saw her. She had no right to key my truck. I knew she’d hit some rough times financially, and I never heard talk in school about her being a psychic when we were growing up, so I figured the psychic business was a hoax she’d dreamed up to dupe folks out of their money. I don’t know if she’s had a real job in years. I didn’t want you to get hurt or waste your money on what might turn out to be a bunch of baloney.”
Shay let her arms drop to her sides. When her lips curved into a small smile, he moved forward and placed his hands upon her waist and drew her close. He knew she’d been under a lot of stress lately. He wouldn’t hold this little outburst against her. He was glad when she sank her head onto his chest.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I had no right to come here and accuse you of things—”
“You’re forgiven,” he interjected. Her eyes glistened when he set her back. “For the record, I haven’t slept with a woman in over two years.”
That little tidbit rocked her. “Colt, I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t. That’s not something a man goes around broadcasting to the world. I don’t kiss and tell, especially when there’s nothing to tell.” He chuckled, hoping to ea
se the tension.
“I’m sorry I said those things,” she apologized again. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions or let my imagination run wild, especially after what I said to you last night.”
“Are you referring to when you cut me loose?”
She nodded, and he couldn’t help but grin. “I like that you’re jealous.”
“I’m not.”
His arms wound around her like thread on a spool. He felt the blood in his veins heating as his heart pumped double-time. He’d been waiting to tell her how he felt. Now seemed like the perfect time. “Shay, I don’t mind that you’re a little jealous, because that would mean you care about me the same way I care for you.”
She gazed at him with eyes shining brighter than the noonday sun. He tipped her chin up with his finger, and they stared into each other’s eyes. “I know we’ve only known each other a short time, but—”
The bell over the front door tinkled as it flung open and his fifty-something secretary, Norma, breezed in. Obviously startled, Shay broke from his embrace and twirled.
“Oh! Did I interrupt something?” Norma said, dumping her purse on her desk. She flashed Colt a knowing grin.
Shay’s cheeks flushed pink, and she looked like she wanted to crawl under the desk.
“Shay, this is my secretary, Norma Rudd. Norma, meet Shay Brennan, the new owner of the Buckhorn.”
Norma reached out to shake Shay’s hand. “I typed up the paperwork for the sale. It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Brennan.”
“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”
Just then, Shay’s cell phone jangled. “Excuse me. I’ll take this outside.” She trotted to the door like a pony ready to break into a lope. Colt watched her hips sway as she exited the office with the phone to her ear. Dammit. Would luck ever be with him?
A Haunted Twist of Fate Page 15