Haunted by Murder
Page 16
Clara took a seat by the head of the bed, and spoke to Stephanie in soothing tones. “Relax, and find a comfortable position. Focus on your breathing. Count to four on the inhale, hold it for seven counts, and exhale for eight. The 4-7-8 method will slow your heart rate and allow you to fall into a deep sleep. Inhale, hold, exhale.”
It took all of four minutes for Stephanie to doze off, leaving the others nothing to do but wait for a sign. When her eyes began to flicker beneath their lids, they knew she’d begun to dream.
On the other side of the veil, Stephanie discovered that accepting her dreams as reality helped clear the cobwebs. She let go of the doubts, the idea that she was insane, and embraced the fact that she might have actual powers of some sort. If it would help her figure out what had happened to her love, she’d have gladly believed she possessed the ability to sprout eyes in the back of her head.
Slowly, the world around her became more solid, grounded in reality as belief bolstered form.
“Brad!” she called out as she walked through a dream version of her backyard garden, bathed in color and light. Up ahead, she saw a figure standing next to the gypsy wagon her father had commissioned at her mother’s request, and quickened her pace to catch up. This time, she wouldn’t let him wander away. This time, she was in control.
“Stephanie!” Brad called back, splitting the distance between them in three quick strides. He pulled her against his chest and held her for a moment before looking into her eyes, “Is this real? What’s happening? Am I dead?”
“I thought you were,” Stephanie breathed through the tears that wet her face, “But now, I’m not sure. Tell me what you remember.”
Brad was quiet for a minute, his eyes searching for something, “I remember finding something weird in the finances. And then talking to Mason, then pain, and then nothing. Until, well, this.” He waved a hand to indicate the garden. “I’ve been waiting for you, but every time I catch a glimpse of you, you disappear. I thought it was a dream, but I can’t seem to wake up, even though the voices keep telling me to.”
“What voices?”
“I don’t know,” Brad said, shaking his head, “but none of them was you, and I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“I don’t know,” he repeated, “there was a light, and I could feel it there, waiting to be followed, but I was afraid if I left, you’d never find me. It doesn’t make sense, I know.”
“None of this makes sense,” Stephanie replied, “but I think you have to follow the voices, wherever they lead. You’re not dead—I’m more sure now than ever, or I wouldn’t be able to talk to you. It’s why Roma couldn’t find you.”
“Who’s Roma?” Brad asked, confused again.
Stephanie grinned, “I’ll explain everything, I promise. It’s time for you to go and find the voices, I think.” As soon as she said it, she realized it was true. The air around them had changed, the wind picking up and whipping her hair around her face and forcing her eyes closed.
When she opened them again, Brad was being pulled away from her, and the harder she tried to hold on the more difficult it became.
“I love you, Stephanie. For always.” His voice died as he floated into the ether and disappeared. Stephanie felt as though her heart was breaking, and also healing at the same time, over and over again with each beat, and that was the last thought she had before diving back into the darkness.
***
Stephanie awoke to the sound of the phone ringing, her face still wet with tears. She didn’t understand the look of bewilderment Mag and Clara exchanged until she realized it was the middle of the night and not a normal time for anyone to be calling.
Roma’s transparent face lit up in a ghostly smile, and Stephanie jumped out of the bed and sprinted across the room at lightning speed.
“Hello?” She said into the receiver, listening for what felt like an hour to Mag and Clara, but was really only about ninety seconds.
“Oh my goodness. I’ll be right there. Thank you!”
She turned around, beaming, and shouted, “He’s alive! He’s in the ICU at Port Harbor General. He’s been in a coma all this time, and they thought he was someone else. There were two men found without identification at around the same time. Similar build, similar coloring.”
Sometimes luck favored the criminal, and that had been the case with Mason.
“The nurse was very apologetic that they didn’t try harder to identify Brad. The other man didn’t make it. But he’s alive. Roma—” Stephanie looked around the room, but the only people left in it were Mag and Clara.
“I’m sorry, honey. She’s gone.”
***
All the lights were on inside Huffington Manor when Mag and Clara pulled up in the long black limousine Stephanie had sent to retrieve them from Balms and Bygones. The sounds of music wafted into the driveway along with happy voices and laughter. In short, the place felt more alive than the Balefires had ever seen it.
But that was nothing compared to the difference they saw in Stephanie’s demeanor when they entered through the front door and spotted her hanging on the arm of a handsome man who couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Mag! Clara! You’re finally here!” She rushed over to greet the pair, the smile on her face enough to bring happy tears to Clara’s eyes. Stephanie enveloped them in a Chanel-scented hug, towing Brad along behind her.
“These are the women who saved your life. And mine.” Stephanie added for good measure, beaming as she made introductions.
“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done. You gave me my life back, Brad said.”
Brad ignored the hand Clara held out and instead wrapped his arms around first her and then Mag, eliciting a giggle from the former and a tiny smile from the latter. It was more than Mag usually allowed, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, she found the young man rather charming.
“Maybe you could convince Constance we don’t have designs on her tea service,” she said once he’d released her.
His voice thick with emotion, Brad laughed, and thanked the two women again while they insisted they’d only done what any decent human being would do. “You’re part of the family now, as far as we’re concerned. Consider yourselves welcome anytime.”
“More than welcome, actually. I expect to see the both of you here on a regular basis.” Stephanie interjected. “Though, you’ll only be visiting Constance and Cheyenne for the next month, because we’ve decided to bunk tradition and do this thing in reverse. We’re leaving for an extended honeymoon next week. Brad set it up before everything happened.” She lowered her voice and added, “That woman Cheyenne was so worried about—she’s the travel agent Brad hired.”
Mag nodded, genuinely glad to hear it, and even more happy that the last piece of the puzzle had finally slipped into place.
“Oh,” Stephanie said in a low voice, “and tell that lady from your Moonstone Circle I’m happy to contribute some charitable funds to the organization, as long as she stops leaving messages on my voicemail. Quite persistent, that one.”
Mag and Clara exchanged a bemused look. “Penelope,” they said, rolling their eyes in unison.
“Yes, that’s her. Tell me, is she a witch, too? I get the feeling there’s more going on with those Moonstones than you’d like anyone to think.” Stephanie winked conspiratorially and turned her attention back to her fiancé, pulled his head down, and rested her cheek prettily against his.
Clara’s eyes were focused on watching the festivities happening around her when a feeling of compulsion overcame her. She turned around, searching the crowd until her gaze lit on John, who was watching her from across the room. Their eyes locked, and she made her way toward him with her heart in her throat.
“Hi.” Clara said shyly, accepting the hug he offered while the pterodactyls in her belly whipped themselves into a frenzy.
“Hi, Clara,” he replied. “You never called and I thought you might need some time. Things have been
quite hectic around here the past few days. It’s a relief to know Brad isn’t who I thought he was. I’d been feeling so guilty,” he blurted, then looked embarrassed at the admission.
“Guilty about what?” Clara asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.
“I lied. I did see Brad that morning, and I threatened him. Not with physical harm,” John quickly qualified when he noticed the shocked expression on Clara’s face. “I just said that if he was anything like his father, he needed to leave my niece alone or face the consequences. When he disappeared, I figured I’d been right and he’d taken the hint. I just didn’t have the heart to tell Stephanie. It felt like adding insult to serious injury. I should have known it was the wrong line to take, but then things got out of hand and I was afraid she’d hate me for it.”
That explained a lot.
It also went some way toward banishing the wall of reserve her intuition had built against him.
Returning warmth and the contrite expression on his face combined with the fact that she knew his intentions came from an honorable place absolved him in her mind. After all, who was she to judge? She had her own regrets, and they were far bigger than an unfounded accusation and a hollow threat.
“It’s all come out in the wash.” Clara said with an understanding smile.” The best thing to do with guilt is turn it into a lesson learned. I’m just glad it’s all worked out.”
“So am I. I’m still not certain I fully understand what happened, but Stephanie insists you were responsible for finding Brad. We’re all very grateful. I’ve never seen her so happy.”
Clara smiled, watching the young couple interact. “It was my pleasure. What did she tell you, exactly?”
“Some ludicrous-sounding story about connecting with Brad through her dreams. I don’t know if that’s even possible, but she believes it, so who am I to judge?”
Clara’s pulse sped up. Was it possible John might not be as closed off to the idea of magic as she thought he’d be?
“Is it really so crazy?” she hedged. “People have believed in the supernatural for as long as there have been people around to believe in anything.”
John raised an eyebrow, “I suppose that’s true. But the more things are explained by science, the less room there is for the supernatural. Just because we don’t understand something, doesn’t mean it’s magic.”
“Or, perhaps, science and magic are one and the same. There’s magic all around us, every day.”
“Well, I certainly feel something magical happening right now,” he replied, pulling Clara to him and planting a sizzling kiss on her lips.
Oh, no, Clara thought to herself as she sank into him. I’m in so much trouble.
***
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More books in the Elder Witch Cozy Mystery Series:
Murder Above the Fold
Murder on the Backswing
Murder Below the Waterline
Haunted by Murder
If you enjoyed Murder Above the Fold and want more Mag and Clara, check out the Fate Weaver series featuring Clara’s granddaughter, Lexi Balefire. A little less mystery, a little more fantasy, Lexi’s is a coming of age story with romance, magic, and humor.
The Fate Weaver series:
A Match Made in Spell
All Spell is Breaking Loose
To Spell and Back
No Chance in Spell
Spell Hath No Fury
Other books by ReGina Welling
The Psychic Seasons Series
Rings on Her Fingers
Bells on Her Toes
She Shall Have Music
Wherever She goes
Earthbound Bones
Earthbound Wings
Also by ReGina Welling and Erin Lynn
The Ponderosa Pines Mysteries
Cat Killed A Rat
Crafting Disorder
Caught in the Frame
Bait and Snitch