by Jennie Marts
“Yes, we do.” Edna appeared next to Zia, her arm wrapped around Phyllis’s waist. “Phyllis just told me the whole story. Tell them what you told me.”
Phyllis stared at the floor, wringing her hands.
“It’s okay, honey,” Edna assured her. “You can trust them. They’re good people.”
“Morty was a good man. He just made some bad decisions,” Phyllis stammered.
“What kind of decisions?” Finn asked. “Like deciding to rob a jewelry store?”
She nodded, her lips trembling. “It was all that bastard Stan’s idea. Morty and I were doing just fine. Our kids were grown and gone and we were settling into a nice life. Morty had finally earned his pension and was getting ready to retire. We were thinking of going on a cruise in the spring. Then Stan got out of prison and started hanging around again, filling Morty’s head with all these ideas.”
“Ideas like robbing a jewelry store?” Finn coaxed, earning an exaggerated sigh from Zia.
“Stan had this whole plan. He said he knew the night guard at a jewelry store who could get them in and out and knew the security codes. He had a guy who could fence the stolen jewelry, and he convinced Morty it would be an easy job. In and out, no problem.”
“But there was a problem?” Zia asked.
“With Stan, there’s always a problem. They pulled off the heist and everything seemed fine until the night guard turned up dead the next day. Morty finally told me what was going on, because he was worried Stan had taken out the guard and was coming after him next. Morty was holding on to the stolen goods, and he told me they’d taken a large stash of diamonds.”
“I knew it,” Zia said. “I knew I saw diamonds.”
Finn raised an eyebrow at her but wisely kept silent.
“I tried to convince Morty to turn them in, but he didn’t want to go to the police. I told him that I’d seen Finney’s private eye business across from Zia’s when I’d been here for a reading, and suggested he come see you and maybe you could help him return the jewels anonymously and offer him some protection from Stan.”
“A guy called and made an appointment with me last night, but I was late and I missed him,” Finn said. “That could have been Morty. Maybe Stan followed him here and tried to collect the diamonds. If Morty didn’t have them or wouldn’t tell him where they were, he may have killed him and trashed our offices looking for the stolen jewels. That’s just a theory that I’m coming up with by using logic and deduction.” He looked at Zia. “I don’t have any magic feelings about what happened or any psychic visions of a bloody room.”
A hurt look crossed Zia’s face. Okay, that was kind of an asshole comment. Why was he being so hard on her? An hour ago, he couldn’t get enough of her, and now he was falling back into those feelings of doubt.
He reached down and took her hand in his, entwining their fingers and giving hers a reassuring squeeze. He leaned his head down toward her ear and softened his tone. “Sorry, that was out of line. Old dog and all that.”
He was sure the others were watching and curious as to why he was holding hands with the psychic next door, but he really didn’t care. The feeling of warmth that filled him when he clasped her hand and the smile she rewarded him with now were worth whatever ribbing he would get from Jake later.
“I think there’s only one way to find out the answer for sure,” Zia said.
He nodded. “Right. We need to track down this Stan guy and get him to talk.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. We need to get the answers from the source. See what Morty has to tell us about his murder.”
“That would be great, except he’s dead.” The sarcastic tone snuck back in, followed by the realization that she was seriously discussing talking to the dead guy.
Uh oh. He didn’t like where this was headed.
“Yes, but that’s what I do. I can sometimes communicate with dead people.”
Finn squeezed her hand again, determined to hold the connection between them, and tried his best not to roll his eyes. How did she plan on talking to this dead guy? Send him an email? Was there a spiritual information highway? Maybe she could call him. Maybe instead of cell service, she had soul service and she could just dial up 1-800-Ghost-Chat.
“I think we should hold a séance and see if we can’t connect to Morty’s spirit. His body just left the building and we’re half an hour away from the stroke of midnight on Halloween night. The timing couldn’t be better.”
“I think that’s a great idea. Can I be part of it?” Edna asked, practically rubbing her hands together in glee.
Zia nodded. “I need you all to be part of it. There’s magic in the number six, so I will need all of you. And Phyllis, you’re the most connected to the spirit through the strongest bond, which is love. Would you be up to trying to connect with Morty’s spirit?”
Phyllis nodded. “Of course. I would do anything to talk to Morty one more time. To tell him that I love him and I’m sorry that I yelled at him about putting his socks in the hamper the last day I saw him alive.”
Edna patted her arm. “Don’t worry about that, honey. I’m sure he wouldn’t even remember you mentioning the clothes hamper. Men are like dogs: they forget easily. They just remember that you feed them, give them a warm place to sleep, and rub their bellies once in a while.”
Hmmm. She had a point. Finn gave the Batcouple a questioning look.
Jake shrugged. “I’m always game for trying a new experience.” He looked down at Sunny. “How about you, Batgirl? Do you believe in all this ghosty stuff?”
“I’m not exactly sure. I’ve never seen proof, but I’m open to the idea. I’ve lost enough people that I like to believe they could be around us, watching over their loved ones. I’m game for a séance.”
“Great,” Zia said. “We need to hurry, though, because it’s creeping closer to midnight.”
Did she have to say creeping? This whole thing was creeping Finn out. He tried to control the shiver that threatened to race up his back as the group followed Zia to her office.
She stopped in front of the door and turned back to give the group directions. “We can use my office. Finn and Jake can set up the table and chairs while I gather some things together. Phyllis, do you have anything of Morty’s with you? Anything that belonged to him or that he might have touched?”
Phyllis opened her handbag and dug through the contents. She held up a wadded white handkerchief. “How about this? He handed me his hanky after I sneezed in church last weekend, and I threw it in my purse to wash for him later.”
Zia smiled at her and led them into her office. “That will be perfect.”
Great. This morning he was headed into work, minding his own business. He had the newspaper to read and a cup of coffee to drink. Plain old black coffee. His life was simple.
Now he was sipping fancy pumpkin-flavored coffee, talking about ghosts, and following the gorgeous, round ass of a woman who made his heart pound and who told him she thought he was kind of sexy right before she kissed him senseless.
If all that wasn’t unbelievable enough, he was getting ready to participate in a séance with Batman and Dolly Parton, and they were going to channel the dead guy’s spirit through a snot-filled handkerchief.
While trying to stay open-minded, he felt like he’d been approaching this unknown door that was slightly ajar and he was just going to peek in, check out what was inside. Instead, the door had been flung wide open and he was being ushered inside and literally sitting down at the table in Spooksville.
We are only afraid of what we don’t understand. He’d read that somewhere. Was that what was happening? Was he afraid? Afraid of a ghost? Hmm. Maybe. He sure as hell was afraid of this thing happening with Zia.
There was only one thing to do: go give it a try. Both with Zia and the séance. The only way he would know for sure if ghosts were real was if they tried to communicate with one, and the only way he would know if this thing with Zia was real was if he tried. If he hande
d her his heart and took the chance that she wouldn’t break it.
He followed Zia into the office, stopping to hold the door open for Edna and Phyllis to enter. “Where do you want us to start?”
She pointed to the closet. “There’s a round table and folding chairs in that closet. You and Jake set that up. Sunny, grab that big, chunky purple candle off the shelf and put it in the center of the table.”
“What can I do?” Edna asked. “You want me to get out the spell book and start collecting ingredients? Do you have any eye of newt? They always have that in secret spells.”
“No. I’m not casting any spells. We’re trying to communicate with Morty’s spirit, not bring him back from the dead.”
“All right. All right,” Edna mumbled as she wandered over to the shelves and began searching through the boxes and jars of herbs Zia used for healing and therapy.
Within minutes, they had the table set up and were circled around it. Zia had spread out a rich blue velvet tablecloth, and Sunny set Morty’s handkerchief and the chunky candle in the middle. She lit the wick with a long-tipped lighter and set it on the table, while Zia turned out the office lights and directed everyone to sit down.
“I need everyone to be quiet, and please turn off your cell phones. We don’t want to be interrupted in a crucial moment of communication.”
“What if the ghost tries to call us and we have our phones off?” Finn’s snide remark was met with silence. He turned off his phone and slid it into his pocket then sat down.
“We all need to stay in the circle the whole time. If someone gets up and leaves, it can break the spiritual connection. Does anyone need to use the restroom before we start?”
“No,” Edna said. “But I might need to if a ghost really does show up.”
Finn sat with Zia on his right and Sunny on his left. Jake sat next to Sunny, and then Edna, and Phyllis completed the circle sitting on the other side of Zia.
Zia smiled at the group. “Take the hand of the person next to you. We want to begin with a prayer to protect us from angry or evil spirits, and ask that only well-intentioned spirits join our circle tonight.”
“Yeah, we don’t want any random angry spirits showing up,” Finn said. “This is a high-class séance and only well-behaved ghosts are invited.”
Zia dropped his hand and gave him a stern look. “Look, Finn, this is only going to work if we have the positive energy of every person in this circle. If only one person is a skeptic, they can act like a sinker and drain the whole group of its energy. We’re running out of time, and you need to decide if you’re in or you’re out. Six is the optimal number, but we can do this without you.”
Was he in or was he out? Now was his chance to make a choice. He blew out a breath. “Okay, I’m in. Sorry. I’ll shut up and try my best to convey only positive energy.”
She grinned at him, and his breath caught as he was struck by the beauty of her smile. Yeah, he was in, all right. Ghost or no ghost, he wanted this woman in his life. And if that meant he had to shut up and think welcoming thoughts to Casper, then that seemed like a pretty simple price to pay.
Zia picked up his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She closed her eyes and lowered her voice. “Morty, we gather here tonight in hope that we will receive a sign of your presence. Our circle is open and we welcome you to join us.”
A few long seconds passed, then a loud thump sounded in the back of the room. Sunny jumped and let out a nervous giggle then cleared her throat and resumed watch.
The room was dark except for the small circle of candlelight that reflected each of their faces. Zia spoke again, calm and encouraging. “Morty, if you’re here with us, please give us a sign.” The candlelight flickered and the temperature of the room seemed to drop ten degrees. “Phyllis, you knew Morty and loved him. Please take this time to think warm thoughts about him, fill your heart with all the love you have for him, and fill your mind with good memories of time spent with him.
“Morty, if you’re in the room with us, please signal twice for a yes answer,” Zia instructed.
A loud rap sounded on the center of the table, and seconds later another rap signaled the presence of the spirit.
Holy crap. Was this really happening? Maybe one of the others was tapping the table with their leg. Finn looked around the table, but all the faces looked as stunned as he felt.
Zia continued to ask the spirit questions. “We want to help you. To understand what happened. Were you killed in this room?”
The loud rap sounded again, this time twice in quick succession.
“Do you know who shot you?”
Suddenly the room went crazy. Cabinet doors opened and slammed shut, books flew off the shelves, and a loud wind filled the room, blowing out the candle and leaving them in pitch blackness. The sound of a door opening and closing could be heard in the dark. The distinct smell of garlic and salami filled the room.
Finn dropped Zia’s hand and fumbled for the lighter. Before he could find it on the table, the candle relit itself, the wick sparking into a tiny flame.
What the hell?
The sound of a woman weeping sent chills down Finn’s spine. He looked around and realized it was Phyllis. She hadn’t let go of Edna or Zia’s hands, but her chin dropped to her chest as she wept quietly. “Morty loved meeting the guys down at Sal’s deli for lunch. It’s almost as if I can smell an Italian hoagie. It was his favorite sandwich.”
“Morty, are you still with us?” Zia asked, her composure calm and confident.
Two quick knocks on the table.
“Was it Stan? Was he the one who shot you?”
Another two knocks, and Edna gasped.
It seemed like a given that Stan would have been the one to shoot him. Happened all the time—partners in crime double-crossed each other.
A new sound filled the air, one that sent a different but just as chilling shiver down Finn’s spine. The sound of a gun being cocked.
The sound came from Finn’s right, and he turned to see a hand holding a gun at Zia’s temple. The rest of the hand’s body was swallowed up in the darkness of the room. Finn’s detective skills went on alert, observing every second, judging the assailant’s height by the direction of the gun. The scent of garlic and salami wafted nearer, and Finn guessed Morty wasn’t the only one who loved the Italian hoagie.
“It’s no surprise who shot him,” an unfamiliar male voice spoke from the darkness. “Why don’t you ask him the more important question—like where he hid the diamonds?”
“Stan! You rotten son-of-a-bitch!” Phyllis swore. She bucked against the table, but Edna held her hand tightly.
“Look,” Stan said, “I don’t want no trouble. I just came for the diamonds. I know Morty had ’em when he came in here last night, but I searched him after I shot him, and they weren’t on him. So they must be hid in one of these offices. Those diamonds belong to me.” He called out into the room, “Where’d you hide the jewels, you bastard?”
The room went into bedlam again, but ratcheted up ten more notches. Books and jars flew from the shelves, the wind howled, and the ceiling light flickered on and off. But those few seconds of light were all Finn needed to see Stan positioned behind Zia’s chair, the gun held high in his outstretched hand.
Taking advantage of the chaos, Finn flung himself at Stan, knocking the gun from his hand and tackling him to the ground. Within seconds, the lights flipped on, this time by a human hand, as Sunny stood by the switch. Jake, a.k.a. Batman, grabbed for the gun and held it trained on Stan.
“All right,” Stan wheezed. “Don’t shoot.”
The door of Zia’s office flew open and Officer McCarthy burst in, gun in hand. Another officer followed close behind, his gun also drawn.
“It’s okay, Mac. We got him,” Finn said. “But nice timing.”
Mac holstered his gun and gestured to the other officer, who bent at Finn’s side and slapped handcuffs on Stan’s wrists. “We located Stan and put a tail on him, but he
lost us. We figured he was headed this way. I tried to call you to let you know, but your cell phone must be off. I had no idea you all would still be here.”
Finn turned to Zia, who shrugged and offered him a sheepish look.
“We heard him confess to shooting Morty,” Finn told Mac. “But I wish we knew what happened to the diamonds. That would tie him to the robbery and seal the conviction.”
The lights flickered again, a cold chill settled into the room, and a big glass jar slid off the counter. It shattered as it hit the ground and spilled colored velvet bags across the floor.
Sunny let out a shriek, but Zia bent to the floor, examining the bags. “The bags in this jar are full of crystals or herbs used for healing or love spells. I handmade all of them.” She held up a black velvet bag. “All except this one.” She pulled open the drawstring and tipped the bag up, spilling a cascade of glittering diamonds into her hand.
The cold chill left the air, and the group stared at the diamonds in silence.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Stan said. “That son of a bitch hid ’em right out in plain sight. I must have walked by that jar twenty times when I was tossing this place.”
Mac took Stan by the arm and led him to the door. “Hope they didn’t give your cell away to a new tenant, because you’re headed back to lock-up.” He passed him off to the other officer to drive down to the station while he stayed to take their statements. He shook his head in disbelief as they all told the same unbelievable tale.
Once finished, he offered Phyllis a ride home. Jake collected Sunny and Edna and told Finn he’d be back tomorrow to help him sort everything out.
The door clicked shut behind them, and all that was left were Finn and Zia. The previously close-minded detective and the sexy psychic.
He raised an eyebrow at Zia. “See, I was right. I told you a person had trashed our offices.”
She put a hand on her hip and sighed. “Is that really the argument you want to go with? After everything that happened here tonight? You’re still going to claim there are no ghosts?”
He laughed. “I didn’t say that. I just said I was right about the offices. After this crazy night, I need to be right about something.”