by Ann Charles
“We need to talk, Violet Lynn.”
“Uh oh, that sounds like I’m in trouble.”
“If you walk out that door without answering a few questions of mine, you will be.”
“If this is about Rex,” I started.
“It’s not about that devil. It’s about Doc.” She walked to the table and pulled out a chair, pointing down at it. “Sit down for a minute.”
“But I have to …”
She pointed again.
I obeyed, tucking my dark orange peasant skirt under me. “… sit down and answer your questions.”
She pulled out the chair next to mine and joined me. “Why did Doc spend the night here?”
Her question took me by surprise. She’d always been open-minded about my spending the night with Doc. It would knock me back a step if premarital sex under her roof was the reason for our tête-à-tête this morning. “Nothing happened. I spent the night in Addy’s bed.”
“I don’t care if anything happened between you two or not. What I want to know is why he stayed?”
I still wasn’t sure what she was getting at with her question. “Because I asked him to.”
“What happened that prompted you to ask Doc to stay?”
I toyed with the button on my purple blazer, buying time.
She tapped her fingers on the table, waiting.
“I was afraid,” I admitted.
“Of what?”
I hesitated again. “This is going to sound childish.”
“Just say it.”
“I was afraid of my nightmares.” I picked at a loose thread on the button. “Afraid of someone showing up again when I fell asleep. So I asked Doc to stay because when he’s around, I don’t have bad dreams.” I’d had a nasty one last night at the séance, though, and Doc was right there next to me. Then again, he’d told me that hadn’t been a dream.
Aunt Zoe cocked her head to the side. I got the feeling she was weighing something carefully before saying it. “Violet, have you been trying to talk to ghosts?”
I hemmed and hawed, fiddle-de-diddled, and squirmed before whispering, “Sort of.” I wasn’t sure what I’d call last night’s adventure. The word séance didn’t really do it justice.
“Did Doc get you into this ghost business?”
“No, Cornelius did.”
“Cornelius, your ghost whispering client?”
“Yes, that Cornelius.”
“I thought you didn’t believe he was legit.”
“I didn’t at first, but then I got roped into doing a séance with him and something happened.”
“What?”
“I fell asleep and Wolfgang showed up in my nightmare. Only he kind of melted and turned into Kyrkozz.”
“The demon from the skin-covered book I have hidden in the shop?”
“Yes, that Kyrkozz.”
She crossed her arms. “So one séance adventure and you changed your mind about Cornelius?”
“Not quite just one.”
“How many séances have you done with him?”
I chewed on my lower lip. “Four. Well, three and a half, since the deal up at Mount Moriah wasn’t really supposed to be a séance. That was him teaching me how to reach out with my mind.” I remembered the spittle in my palm afterward and shuddered all over again. “The other two were more like official séances.”
“How long ago did the séances take place?”
“The first three were last month.”
“And the fourth?”
“Last night.”
“In Cornelius’s hotel room?”
“No. We were in Ms. Wolff’s apartment at the Galena House.”
“Who’s we?”
“Doc, me, Cornelius, and Freesia Tender. She owns the building so we had to include her in order to get past the police tape.” I cringed. I probably shouldn’t have told her about getting around Cooper’s barrier.
Aunt Zoe rubbed her chin. “So Doc has been participating in these, too?”
“Not in the first one, that was Cornelius and me and some of his helpers. Then Doc came to the second one. The third one up at Mount Moriah was only Cornelius and me, and I already told you about last night’s crew.”
“What does Doc think about you being there?”
“He isn’t thrilled, but I help him.”
“Help him while he acts as a medium?”
“More like I help him after it’s done. I have certain ways of bringing him back.” When she leveled her blue eyes on me, I looked down at my hands. They were clenched. “I’m sure this sounds like I’m hovering just this side of deranged. Hell, a few months ago I would have rolled my eyes at the thought of doing a séance and laughed in your face if you’d told me I’d be believing ghosts really exist. But I’ve seen too much now.” I puffed my cheeks and blew out a breath. “Way too much.”
“If your main role is helping Doc, why have you had two séances without him? What were you doing during those? Learning?”
“Yes and no. Cornelius thinks I’m a conduit for channeling. He believes I have control of opening and closing channels.” Jeez, this all sounded bonkers when said aloud in Aunt Zoe’s happy lemon yellow kitchen.
“Are you a conduit?” she asked.
“No.” I shrugged. “I don’t think so, anyway.” I twisted my hands together, thinking about my experiences during the séances. “Maybe I am.” I frowned up at her. “This sounds insane, right? You must think I’ve lost my mind.”
“No, sweetie, I don’t think that.” She took my hand and squeezed it.
“Thank you.”
“But I don’t think you understand what you are.”
I sat there blinking at her for a moment. “You sound like Doc. He keeps insisting I’m something other than a single mom turned Realtor.”
She smiled. “I’m liking that boy more and more, especially after the breakfast he cooked.”
“He makes my stomach happy.” Along with other key body parts.
“Do you believe in Doc’s claim to have medium abilities?”
“I didn’t at first.” I scratched at some dried egg stuck to the table where Layne had sat. “But then I saw him go under a few times. He knew things that didn’t make sense unless what he said about being a medium was true.” I sucked a breath through my teeth and laid my cards on the table. “After what happened last night, I’m a one hundred percent true believer in him.”
“What happened last night?”
“I somehow went through the rabbit hole with him and it got really weird. I ended up with a cut and some bruises when I woke up.” I’d noticed the bruises on my butt and hips up in the bathroom mirror before I showered, figuring they were from when the albino had yanked me backwards.
“You were injured while talking to ghosts?”
“I wasn’t only talking.”
After a check over my shoulder for my daughter, I leaned in and told Aunt Zoe the whole séance she-bang. I started with Cornelius with his equipment outside the taxi and ended with Addy’s earache, including everything about the ax-wielding juggernaut and my worries about his pale-skinned twin. I threw in the bits about Layne’s picture in the mirror, the weird backwards writing, and Reid telling me Ms. Wolff wore wigs over her snow white hair. When I finished, Aunt Zoe was the one scratching at the table.
“Well?” I asked, leaning back in my chair. “Don’t you wish you hadn’t asked?”
She shook her head, her forehead still wrinkled.
“Are you going to lock me up and throw away the key? Because if you are, you’re stuck raising my kids.”
“I love Addy and Layne, but not enough to want to raise them on my own while their mother is alive and kicking.”
I gripped the table edge, feeling decades older than my thirty-five years. “Tell me I’m not going nuts, Aunt Zoe.”
She took my face between her palms and kissed my forehead. “You’re not going nuts, kiddo.”
“Then what in the hell is going on? How was I able to
travel to the past and back through the mirror for crissake?”
“I need to think about this, Violet.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t. I’m afraid of what you’ll come up with when you’re done thinking.”
She patted my leg. “In the meantime,” she said, “I want you to do something for me.”
“What?”
She held up her finger for me to wait and slipped out the back door. I heard Addy’s footfalls overhead and then the toilet flushing. I was about to go up and check on her when Aunt Zoe returned and held a silver necklace out for me.
I took it, studying the odd looking charms linked onto it. “What are these?” I asked, trying to make sense of the symbols etched into the glass and metal.
“Protection.”
Addy’s footfalls reached the stairs.
I lowered my voice. “Protection from what?”
Aunt Zoe glanced toward the dining room, then leaned next to my ear and whispered, “From those who kill.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Protection from those who kill.
Hours later as I sat alone at my desk waiting for Mona and Ben to return from lunch, I was still pondering that answer. Addy’s arrival in the kitchen had kept Aunt Zoe from explaining further, and I’d needed to head out for work, so we’d left our discussion with a “to be continued” status.
I fingered the necklace Aunt Zoe had given me as I had throughout the morning, lost in thought. She’d swallowed the news about Doc, me, the séances, and everything else without gagging on it even once. She’d always had an open mind about politics, spiritual beliefs, and my life choices in general, but all of this paranormal stuff was plain screwy.
Hell, I was still struggling to believe what all had transpired. I touched the cut above my breast, making sure it was still there. Yep, and sore to the touch, too. I’d scar, most likely. So bizarre.
My computer screen went dark again. That was the third time today that I’d drifted off in thought long enough that my computer got bored and went to sleep on me. Mona had asked me if I’d wanted her to skip lunch so I could go home early and get some rest. My absence wouldn’t be noticed with Jerry and Ray out showing Honey and Dickie around—it was their last day of pre-show preparation before they headed back home to make plans to return with the whole crew. I’d waved Mona off, but her eagle eyes had been on me until she and Ben had left for lunch over a half hour ago.
I moved the mouse to wake up my screen and bumped my full cup, sloshing milky coffee onto my desk.
“Crud,” I muttered and headed to the restroom to get a wet paper towel. I heard the front door open when I shut off the water. “Be right with you,” I called out.
I dried off my hands and headed out front with the paper towel in hand. The sight of Rex sitting on the corner of my desk stopped me cold. He looked men’s catalog slick in his black dress pants, open-necked pinstripe shirt, and fancy leather shoes. All he needed was a suit jacket slung over his shoulder and a pair of Ray-Bans and he’d be ready to shake his booty on the catwalk.
As I stood there glaring at him, he made a scene of inspecting my outfit from head to boot toe, whistling in response. “Nice boots, baby.”
“Now what do you want?” I snapped. I was too strung out to deal with Rex and his bullshit this afternoon.
He clucked his tongue at me. “Really, Violet. You should work on being more professional with your clients.”
Was that a dig about my tendency to get a little too personal with my clients? No, how would Rex know about that? Unless he’d been snooping around … or hanging out with Ray.
“You’re not my client.”
“Oh, but I am. Your boss and I had a talk about me being your client just yesterday.” His smarmy smile made me want to smash my keyboard over his head. “He assured me you’d be able to meet all of my needs and then some.”
Correction, I was going to smash my keyboard over Jerry’s head. I returned to my desk, wiping up my mess. “Rex, go away.”
“Not until you give me what I want.”
I threw the paper towel in my trash with gusto. “If you think you can come swinging back into my life and start making demands, you’re more delusional than I remembered.”
“I really like how feisty you’ve become. When you were young, you were so eager to please. It became boring pretty quickly.”
“Oh, so that’s your excuse for screwing around with my sister behind my back. You were bored with me. And all these years I’d assumed you’d been unable to resist Susan throwing herself at you.”
“I don’t need an excuse for my actions. You and I weren’t married or committed in any other way at the time.”
“No, I was just pregnant with your children. Silly me to expect you to remain monogamous.”
“When I had sex with your sister, I was unaware you were pregnant.”
“Would it have made a difference?” Not that it really mattered anymore. In the end, my heartless bitch of a sister had saved me from Rex. Irony was such a sadistic bastard sometimes.
He shrugged. “Who knows? That’s the past. Why rehash it? What’s done is done.”
“Exactly. You and I are done, so why rehash our past by coming here?” When he tried to disarm me with a fake, charming smile, I sneered at him. “Don’t try to insult my intelligence again by proclaiming an adoration for me that doesn’t exist.”
His smirk came easy. “Well, that youthful eagerness to please did show up during sex. Of all of the partners I’ve had over the years, you are one of my most memorable.”
“Gee, thanks. I hope I have a Sexual Partner of the Month picture hanging somewhere to commemorate that.”
He pointed at me. “See, this feistiness is new. I imagine your prowess during sex has increased accordingly.”
Who talked like that? I shuddered, feeling like he had me under a microscope and was poking around my sexual reproductive organs with a long pair of tweezers.
“You can imagine whatever you’d like,” I told him, “but that’s all you’ll do. The naivety and youthful ignorance that left me pregnant with twins is gone. When I look at you now, I see past the pseudo charm and the good looks to the rat hiding underneath it all, and I fantasize about taking a garden hoe and chopping you into tiny pieces.”
Covering his mouth, he faked shock. “There’s so much violence in you these days, Violet.”
Rex must’ve been trading notes about me with Detective Hawke. “What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.”
He leaned over my desk, leering down at me. “Does that violence cross over into the bedroom as well?”
I thought of sex with Doc—the way I’d bitten his shoulder, clawed his back, marked him as mine. My cheeks warmed. I pretended to focus on something on my computer screen. “My sex life is none of your business.”
Rex’s chuckle made the hairs on the back of my neck get all up in arms with pitchforks and torches. “It appears your sister and you have more in common than I thought. She was quite something in bed. Thinking back, I assumed she was trying to impress me at the time, to lure me away from you. It turns out the wildcat behavior during copulation is genetic.”
Like I wanted to think about my sister copulating with my ex-boyfriend. I clenched my fists, telling myself that physical violence was frowned upon in a civilized society.
“Rex, is there something in particular as a Realtor that I can do for you today?”
“Yes, I need you to act as my wife.”
I stuck my finger in my ear and wiggled it, then pulled it back out. “I’m sorry, I could swear I heard you say you wanted me to be your wife.”
“To act as my wife.”
“Oh, only act the part. I see.”
“I’ll need the children, too.”
“The children? Do you mean the two small human beings you donated your sperm to create?”
“Yes, those two children. Quit being facetious, Violet.”
I was being facetious? That was rich. I leaned ba
ck in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. “You’ll need MY children for what, Rex?”
“I need a family.”
What? Had he turned over a new leaf? One with a conscience? Was he feeling remorseful for how he’d treated us over the years? “Why do you need a family? Are we going on tour? Is it for a production of The Sound of Music? Because if it is, I have to tell you that I’m really bad at staying on key, but I do twirl quite well in a dress. Would you like to see me twirl?”
Now I was being facetious.
“Are you done having your fun?” he asked.
“That depends on why you need a family?”
“Because my promotion depends on it.”
I clamped my teeth together. It was that, or lean forward and bite his head right off in one chomp. Swallowing a lump of rage, I managed to speak without yelling. “Get out.”
“I told you, I’m not leaving until I get what I want.”
Did he have even an inkling how insulting this was after birthing and raising those two children without a single penny or word from him? There was a reason I’d insisted he sign off all rights of fatherhood after they were born and he’d shown absolutely no interest in them, and that was to protect them from being used rather than loved. Yet here Rex stood, thinking he could show up and borrow what could’ve been his family if he hadn’t run away from responsibility a decade ago.
This was so not happening. Not now, not with my kids.
I pushed my chair back and walked over to the door. “Get out of my life, Rex.” I meant that with every cell of my being.
He shook his head. “Not until you play your part and help me get what I want.”
“Why do you need a family to get a promotion?”
“Because the board of directors in my company believes that employees with dependents are reliable and trustworthy. The only way I’ll get the promotion I deserve is if my boss sees in person the family I told him I have.” He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open, flashing a familiar photo of me and the kids.
He’d cut out the family picture I’d used on the marketing postcards I’d posted on bulletin boards this last spring, back when I was trying to drum up business as a new Realtor in town. Criminy, first Wolfgang had found that postcard, now Rex. Who was next?