SEEING DEAD THINGS: A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Novel (Roxie’s Midlife Adventures Book 1)

by Leigh Raventhorne

  I paused before answering. Perhaps it was just a gut feeling but I was pretty sure I knew why she was calling me this early.

  “He’s out, isn’t he?” I asked, dread filling me.

  “Yes, he is. There was nothing more I could do. He’s already been detained far longer than normal. His lawyer has been petitioning pretty hard for his bail to be lowered. The judge finally allowed it—I don’t think he had much choice. I was able to place a personal protection order as one of the conditions, though. He can’t come near you.”

  “Where did he get the money from?” I knew we didn’t have that much in our checking account. If he had somehow accessed our savings, wouldn’t I have been notified?

  “He put part of it on a credit card and the rest—from your joint savings.”

  “What? Can he do that?”

  “He can,” Sam said, apologetic. “You two always kept separate cards, right?”

  We had, thank goodness. Mostly because I hardly ever used credit cards. The one I kept for emergencies only had a two thousand dollar limit. “Yes. But what about the savings? That’s in both of our names. He can’t just take that money, can he?” I scrambled for a towel, slipping on the floor a bit. I was trying hard not to hyperventilate.

  “Have you taken any money out?”

  “No, none. Why?”

  “It can get tricky with divorce when one person tries to empty out joint accounts. The courts can force repayment—with interest. If you don’t need the money for anything right now,” she knew I didn’t, “withdraw roughly half of what’s left in all of your joint accounts. Set it up in a separate account—just don’t touch it. Treat it like an escrow. Make sure you print out the last few months worth of statements, too. As far as the money you inherited from your parent’s estate? He has no rights to any of that.”

  I did already know most of this, but hearing it from her helped push the panic away. Though Sam didn’t specialize in divorce cases, she would still take them on in special circumstances—like mine—so she had kept up on current divorce law. Up until a few years ago, I had too.

  “So, what now?” I asked as I quickly dried off and threw on a robe.

  “Well, he can’t come within three hundred feet of you, he can’t call you or directly contact you in any way, and he can’t purchase a firearm.”

  “Okay . . . how far away is my house from yours, would you say?”

  “It’s two hundred and seventy-five feet from my back door to the curb in front of your house,” I could almost hear the grin in her voice. “If you can see him, he’s violating the PPO and can go back to jail. Any arrangements to pick up his personal items from the house have to be made through his lawyer and myself. Also, are you sitting down?”

  “I am now,” as I curled my legs up onto one of the chairs in my room. “Is it that bad?”

  “Nothing we can’t handle, Rox, but—he wants to fight the divorce,” she said. “He is insisting he will go for counseling himself and—he wants to do marriage counseling. He may try to block the sale of the house, too.”

  “No way! Absolutely not. No. Freaking. Way. You know how he is, Sam. He never lets anything go.”

  “I figured that would be your answer. I’ll take care of the paperwork on our side of this. He can’t force you—this is just a delay tactic. I’ve scheduled the first mediation hearing day for this Friday. I’ve got most of the preliminary paperwork already done and I want to move quickly. There will probably be two or possibly even three sessions, depending on how bullheaded he decides to be. The first will be just his lawyer and myself. If we’re lucky, you’ll only have to attend the final session, mostly to sign papers. Think you’re ready for this?”

  I felt like I was going to start hyperventilating again. I forced myself to take slower, deeper breaths.

  “You okay, Rox?” Sam asked, concern in her voice.

  “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Just—trying not to panic. Um, if this is going to come down to negotiations I need something that’s going to push his buttons. I was thinking—”

  “The Camaro!” we both said in unison.

  “He did acquire it after you were married so it is half yours, Roxie. Are the keys still over at the house?”

  “Yes. They should be with my spare keys. I’ll get them when I head over to the house. He does have the set he keeps with his truck keys, though. Know anyone with a boot?”

  “I just might,” she said thoughtfully. “Let me make a few calls. Oh, and I’m picking dinner up on the way home. How does Tia Helita’s sound?”

  “Fantabulous!” I loved Mexican food and she knew Tia Helita’s was one of my favorites. She was trying to cheer me up. Best. Friend. Ever.

  “The usual?” She always made fun of me because I generally ordered the same thing every time—seafood enchiladas with rice and beans.

  “Of course.”

  After we said our goodbyes and hung up, I put my face in my hands. I wanted to just scream. Instead, I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. I had Sam. I had my friends. And now I had some freaky Sight that allowed me to see things I never knew existed and a box full of jewelry that had—powers or whatever. I could do this. Right?

  I quickly did my hair and the minimal makeup I bothered with—Sam didn’t care what I looked like and it’s not like we were expecting company. Who was I going to impress—Elmer?

  Walking over to my nightstand drawer, I only hesitated for a moment before bringing out the wooden jewelry box and the journal detailing the drawings. Looking around the room for a space that would work best, I decided the bed would be the most comfortable.

  My hips complained vehemently as I settled into a seated position with my legs crossed, Native American style. I tucked a pillow under my butt, and they quieted to a low grumble, barely heard over my knees creaking and popping every time I shifted my weight. Maybe I should have gone to those yoga classes with Sam, after all. In all fairness, I had gone to two sessions with her. I just never went back after I couldn’t move for nearly three days after the second class. That had been a few years ago. Lately, she had started asking if I wanted to go with her on her morning runs but I had begged off with fairly flimsy excuses so far.

  Opening the box, I took out the Rose Quartz ring, barely hesitating before slipping it on my finger. Closing my eyes, I worked to deepen my breathing and clear my mind. I pictured Rosemary’s face in as much detail as possible.

  I opened one eye and looked around the room. Nothing. Sighing, I tried again. Maybe deeper breaths would help. After less than thirty seconds of this, I started to get a little dizzy. Crap. I looked down at the ring on my right hand. It could be too soon. It had only been yesterday since I used it, after all. I took it back off and started to uncross my legs, when a charley horse grabbed a hold of my left calf. I tried not to scream as the pain spasmed through my leg. I jumped off of the bed faster than my body normally moved, desperately trying to straighten my leg muscles and stretch my calf before the pain hit excruciating. I didn’t get these very often but I knew I had to head it off at the pass, or else.

  “Put the ring back on, you idiot,” a voice bellowed right next to my ear.

  I screamed and the muscle spasm deepened. Tears blurred my vision—I couldn’t even see who was yelling at me. I felt someone pry my fisted hand open and slide the ring back onto my finger. My leg stopped cramping almost immediately.

  “What the heck were you doing?” asked the voice I now recognized as Rosemary’s.

  “W-wait. I need to c-catch my b-breath,” I gasped out, holding my hands up in a time-out sign. When I could finally breathe somewhat normally again, I wiped at my eyes and looked over at the gruff woman.

  “Thanks,” I said, still breathing rather shakily. “What the heck was that?”

  “Looked like a leg cramp to me,” she shrugged.

  “Yeah, I got that part. Was it because I took the ring off?” I sat back down on the edge of the bed.

  “No, of course not,” she snorted. “That’s
a healing ring. It can’t cause pain. Why do you think I told you to put it back on?”

  “I thought maybe that was the price of using it. Or maybe it was too soon to use it again or something.”

  “Pish! Don’t be stupid. It already took the energy it needed from you when you used it before.”

  “How am I supposed to know that? I’m the newb, here, remember?” I threw back at her.

  Her brow wrinkled as she mouthed ‘newb’ to herself.

  “I’m the newbie. New to all of—this,” I explained, gesturing first at her, then the jewelry box.

  She just eyed me curiously, glancing up at my hair again, before looking back down and shaking her head, “Well, I’m here now. What do you need?”

  “I wanted to ask you some questions about the rest of the jewelry.”

  “Like what?”

  “L-like what the rest of it does?”

  “How long has it been?” she sighed.

  “How long has it been since what?”

  “Since you called me here,” she said slowly, like I was a slow learner. At this rate, maybe I was. “You just said you thought maybe it was too soon.”

  “Oh, it was yesterday,” I answered, feeling a bit foolish. How could she not know how long it had been. Were things that busy on the other side? “How long has it been for you?”

  She had a full on scowl at this point. “Time moves different over there. It’s not as—critical—for us, I guess you could say. Which doesn’t mean you should be wasting it.”

  “Sorry! Really, I am. It’s just that—my ex, er, almost ex, husband just got out of jail. And I know he’s going to be angry. Are there any of these pieces of jewelry that could help with, like, protection? From a human instead of—you know?”

  She studied me for a moment before replying with a question. “Is he the one that put you in the hospital?”

  I nodded.

  Her eyes softened a bit as she seemed to come to a decision. “There is one that might help some. And it won’t take any energy unless it has to be used—just wearing it won’t draw anything from you.” She walked over to the bed and flipped open the little box. “Here,” she plucked out another ring, this one with a black stone, and dropped it into my palm. She sat down next to me. “Wear this one. It’s base power is protection. It should work against most anything normal, but it won’t stop an all out attack or a bullet, mind you. It works differently than that. I never wore this one, just heard it spoken of. I guess you could say if someone really wants to hurt you, when they draw close enough, they should lose some of that desire.

  “The amount of energy it draws from you will depend on how hard it has to work to protect you. If someone’s will to hurt you is strong enough to power past that ring, you might just pass out. And that wouldn’t turn out so well for you, I’m sure. If you fear that happening, you take the ring off and slip it into your pocket or purse and you do what any smart person would do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You run for help,” she replied sternly. “There is never any shame in that. Being brave is for the really powerful or the really stupid. Of course, there are those that fit into both of those categories, I’m sure.”

  “Thank you. I—this helps. Really,” I said softly. “This whole world that I’ve been thrown into, that I never even knew existed, is just a lot to take in, you know?”

  She laughed, smiling a little. I was amazed at how much it changed her whole face. She looked pretty, almost—handsome—I think is the term they used to use to describe women like her.

  “Honey, this world is a lot to take in even when you do grow up knowing about it. Heck, it might even be worse, knowing.”

  She might have a point there.

  “Well, do you want me to send you back now?” I asked. After her comment about time working differently there and not wasting it, I didn’t want to keep her any longer than necessary.

  “Is that all you needed?” she asked. She almost sounded friendly.

  “Yes. For now anyway. I’ll, um, I’ll try not to bother you anymore than I have to. I was just really freaked out today. Again, thank you.”

  Nodding, she stood up. “Good. Tonight’s poker night and the dealer is what I think you all call a ‘hottie’, these days.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. I closed my eyes and sent her back. I took the Rose Quartz ring off and put it back into the jewelry box. Hesitating only a second, I slipped the ring Rosemary had pulled out on the ring finger of my right hand. Weirdly enough, just like the other ring, this one fit perfectly. I shook my head.

  Maybe it was magick.

  Chapter 10

  The next day . . .

  I can do this. If I keep repeating that enough, maybe I’ll actually believe it.

  Stepping foot back into my house, my home, shouldn’t have been this difficult. I had already deactivated the security alarm. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and turned the key to unlock the front door. My Jeep was still in the driveway, where it had sat since that fateful day. I’d always parked in the driveway, considering Steven’s truck and classic Camaro hogged all of the garage space. Or they had, anyway. I peeked in through the garage’s side door on my way through the side yard and noted the truck was gone. I didn’t know where it was, nor did I care.

  Done stalling, I gave the door a push and stepped inside the house. Mentally, I couldn’t call it home anymore. The air was a bit stale but, other than that, everything looked exactly the same. I don’t know why I expected it to be different.

  Walking without direction, I stopped at the sliding doors. The screen door still lay off to one side, where it had fallen when Steven—shaking my head, I quickly turned away. I would deal with that later. I knew the pool must be a mess—the stupid thing had to be cleaned constantly—but I just couldn’t walk out there yet. My jaw began to ache just thinking about it, even though all of the external hardware had been removed a week ago.

  I passed through the kitchen, taking mental notes of what needed to be done. There was a thin layer of dust on everything. The little pots of fresh herbs above the sink were well beyond the point of no return, shriveled and completely dried out. My mother would have rolled in her grave over the sight. Newly formed cobwebs in several corners meant dealing with those little freeloaders. Spiders had always been Steven’s area. I wasn’t afraid of them, but I didn’t like them, either. My eyes roamed around the rest of the room, landing on the refrigerator. Ugh. I knew it had to be bad in there after over a month. The milk had been borderline iffy before I . . .

  Maybe I’m not ready for this after all. I might be able to hire someone to come in and do all of the cleaning stuff and I can handle sorting and packing after.

  I jumped, squeaked out a pitiful noise that might have been a scream, and had to clench tightly, or I would have peed my pants when my cell phone rang. One hand to my chest, like it was actually going to keep my heart from escaping, I fumbled through my purse for the phone with my other hand. It was Sam.

  “Hey girl! How’s it going?” her cheerful voice echoing through the too-quiet house.

  “It’s—weird. And kind of creepy.”

  “Nothing should be disturbed in there. I asked the police to do extra patrols for the first couple weeks to discourage anyone else from bothering anything there. I may have also mentioned to the Delaneys across the street that Michelle was persona non grata, right now. They promised to call the police or myself if they saw anything. And you know they see everything.” Yeah, sometimes nosy neighbors could be a blessing. They meant well, I knew. “And when you were still in the hospital, I had an extra security camera added to the back of my house that covers most of the back of yours, too.”

  “That was probably smart, considering our gate.” We had added that gate between our yards shortly after having the house built and were fencing for the pool. Steven hadn’t been too much of a butthead about it, especially since Sam had insisted on paying for it. Because I was the only one that really used i
t, we had never even put a lock on it. “Sam, I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

  Silence. Then, “Hang on for a sec, ‘kay?”

  She must have muted the phone because there was nothing. I wandered into the dining room and then through to the living room.

  She was back as suddenly as she’d gone. “Tell you what. Grab what you need for now out of the house. Pack whatever clothes you know you want, grab anything you think is important. If you’re comfortable enough getting some of Steven’s clothes and personal items together, that would be great. If not, we can arrange for him to be supervised and get what he needs himself. Anyway, I’ll talk to you when I get home tonight. I’ve got an idea.”

  “Um, okay.”

  “Oh, and don’t forget to change the security code on the alarm before you go, too, unless you want to keep the temporary one I programmed in. See you later. Call me if you need anything,” and she was gone.

  Tucking my phone back in the purse, I looked upstairs. If being this jumpy was my new normal—and considering the gift I now had thanks to Steven’s fist, it was—I might have to start wearing panty liners full time! Forty going on forty-one was not being kind to my bladder. Maybe it was a good thing I hadn’t had children, after all. I started up the stairs to our bedroom, thinking back to the events that had led to all of this and trying to pinpoint when everything had started to go so wrong.

  When Steven and I first met, it felt like we were always on the same page. We were both at the point in our lives where we were ready for—more, I guess. Marriage, kids, a big house—the works. Soon after we were married, we casually began trying to have a baby, celebrating by throwing my birth control pills away. It didn’t happen right away but we weren’t overly worried, figuring it would happen when it happened. Steven had Michelle from a previous marriage but he insisted he wanted at least one more. At that time, Michelle wasn’t nearly the terror she grew up to be. She was aloof and moody, something I put down to her just being a normal teenager. The idea of a ready-made family didn’t bother me, I had liked the idea at the time. I’d tried everything I could think of to bond with her in the beginning—taking her out shopping and having ‘just us girls’ nights. When we had this house built, I made a big deal out of her new room and encouraged her to decorate it in her own style, offering to help her pick out colors, furnishings, whatever she wanted. I never received so much as a thank you from that girl—or from Steven for that matter. She had Steven wrapped around her little finger and she knew it. When it finally became apparent that we would never have any children of our own, Steven had grown more and more distant. He spoiled Michelle, heaping his attention on her, never even correcting her when she treated me rudely.