Ella bit her lower lip, the red lipstick now all but worn off, then gave a tentative nod. “It was when I gave her the last picture, the winter one of the three of you. She said, ‘Now if something happens, Callie will have something to remember our family by.’ That struck me as odd, but when I questioned her, she just laughed and said she was being overly dramatic. I wanted to pry but Eddie was always on me to mind my own business. Maybe if I had pried, your mama would be with us today.”
“So you’re absolutely convinced she’s dead?”
“Oh, it’s nothing I can prove. I do know something had put a scare into her good and proper. As to what, who, or why, I don’t have the answers. I wish I did.”
And I wished I knew why my dad had hidden the photos in a coffin underneath a plastic skeleton.
“I know you think my father was misguided, but he must have believed she’d come back. Why else would he have kept the house all these years?”
“He never talked about it with you?”
“I didn’t even know this house—” I stopped myself, but not in time. Ella caught on quick.
“You didn’t know about this house?”
I silently chastised myself. Before long, the neighborhood would be buzzing with this latest tidbit of information. But it was too late now.
“Not until the reading of my father’s will. I’ll admit to being surprised.”
“So you returned here.” Ella studied me with shrewd eyes. “But why?”
I stayed silent, shrugged, and stared at the floor, hoping that would be the end of it. No such luck.
“Let me guess. Some clause that made you live here for a certain period of time before you inherited the property. Misty Rivers suggested as much, but I thought she was just spouting nonsense. Same as I told her thinking this house was haunted was nonsense.”
“Misty Rivers told you this house was haunted?”
Ella nodded. “You see, Callie honey, she’s convinced that your mama was murdered, and until her killer is caught, she won’t rest.”
I tried to keep a neutral expression on my face. The last thing I needed was Ella telling anyone who would listen that my father had started to believe the same thing. I also wasn’t too impressed with Misty spreading that sort of gossip, making herself sound like some sort of great savior, instead of the money grubbing mercenary I suspected she was. I was about to tell Ella exactly that when her next question caught me off guard.
“What about you, Callie? What do you believe, now that you’re back here, living in this house, and rekindling old memories?”
Maybe it was the way she asked, straightforward and direct. Or maybe it was because at that very moment the furnace groaned, loud and clear. Whatever the reason, I found myself being completely honest with her for the first time since she’d stepped inside the front door.
“I don’t know, Ella. I guess I’m here to figure that out.”
Chapter 16
Ella left shortly thereafter. I felt somewhat bad about not fessing up to finding the photos. It wasn’t like I’d have had to tell her about where I found them. Then again, I only had Ella’s word for it that she had taken the pictures, though I wasn’t sure how else she’d have known about them, and I couldn’t think of a reason why she’d lie. I decided to think on it for a while longer. If I couldn’t come up with anything, then I’d take them over to her house next week. I could always tell her I found them in my father’s things. Which wasn’t technically a lie. This house had been one of my father’s things.
There was something else in what Ella said, something that niggled at the edges of my mind, but I was too tired to try to pin it down. I decided to call it a night and fell into a dreamless sleep the minute my head hit the pillow.
I woke up refreshed and raring to go early Monday morning. The first thing I needed to do was phone Leith. I was put through after a brief chat with his receptionist.
“Callie,” Leith said. “I got your report on Friday. It was quite sufficient. There’s no need to call.”
It was good to know Leith didn’t expect a play-by-play of every detail in my life.
“This isn’t about that.”
“Surely you didn’t find any more skeletons?”
“No, thank heavens. I’m calling because I found a bank statement showing a safety deposit box rental. I’m pretty sure the key is on the ring you gave me. I wondered if you knew where the bank was and if you can make arrangements for me to check the contents.”
“Let me look into and get back to you by the end of the day. Anything else?”
“Actually, yes. All of this has made me want to find my grandparents. Maybe it’s just feeling like an orphan. Any suggestions on where I should start? I don’t even know where they live, or what their names are.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have much to tell you. I know your mother was from Lakeside. It’s a cottage community with a handful of year-round residents, roughly forty-five minutes northeast of Marketville. Your father met her one summer when he was up there camping. Unfortunately, I don’t know any more than that. Your father refused to talk about them. I gather they were less than accepting of him.”
That confirmed what I’d always believed, though it didn’t stop me from wanting to meet them. It was a long shot, but it was possible that my mother had stayed in touch with them without my dad knowing.
“What about my dad’s family?”
“Peter and Sandra Barnstable. They used to live in Toronto, but I know they moved around the time your parents got married. I’m afraid I don’t know where. They didn’t approve of the wedding and your father never forgave them. The man could hold a grudge.”
I sighed audibly, knowing it was the truth.
“You might consider hiring an information broker,” Leith said. “I’ll get my assistant to email you the names of a couple of reputable individuals we’ve used in the past. There are more than a few bandits out there.”
I’d no sooner hung up, wondering how much an information broker would cost, when the sing-songy chime of the doorbell rang through the house. That would be Royce, ready to talk about renovations.
Royce spent the better part of an hour showing me before-and-after plans on his tablet, which included knocking down a wall and adding a large central island that worked not only as a table with seating for eight, but as a room divider. I had to admit the finished product would be perfect: a cook’s kitchen, an open concept layout, and the added bonus of tying in the existing hardwood to slate tile in the entry and kitchen.
“It looks fantastic,” I said, “but how much will it cost?”
“That will depend on the cupboards and finishes you want, but I get a contractor’s discount at all the major building centers. Why don’t we go shopping one day this week and check out your options?” He checked his phone. “I’m good for Wednesday. I could pick you up around two.”
I didn’t want to explore how good the thought of spending time with Royce made me feel. At least not yet. Besides, kitchens sold houses and at the end of the year—or sooner—I planned to get out of Marketville and back to the anonymity of the city.
“Wednesday at two it is.”
After Royce left I pulled out the folder with the printed copies of the tenancy agreements from the past five years, hoping to find a possible key holder. I started with the one submitted by Misty Rivers, since I knew where she was now. Under ‘Employer’ she had written ‘self-employed’ and under method of rental payment, she’d agreed to first and last month’s rent and direct withdrawal from her bank account on the first of each month.
Misty had used two former landlords for her references. Both said she was a good tenant who always paid the rent on time. There were no other details, meaning it was unlikely Misty would have stayed in touch, let alone handed over a key to her new digs.
It was time to check out Jessica Tamarand, the woman who had broken her lease because she believed that the house was haunted.
The agreement listed Jessica Ta
marand’s employer as Sun, Moon & Stars. I looked up the website. It advertised ‘a unique store setting supporting local artisans, fair trade, handcrafted and environmentally friendly products to assist in the healing journey.’
Under their services they listed Holistic Healing, Psychic Readings using tarot, tea leaves, and personal objects, Energy Psychology, Chakra Balancing, and something called Belvaspata, which was described as ‘angelic healing modality of effortless and quick change, that awakens you to your true Divinity and Majesty filling your heart with Joy.’ A list of their practitioners gave first names only. The tarot card reader went by Randi.
Could Randi be Jessica Tamarand? Leith told me Jessica had complained about noises in the attic and gotten out of her lease. Ella said she hadn’t stayed long, that she had worked at the new-agey place in the whole foods store on King. I checked the location. It fit.
Leith had believed Jessica was just looking for an early way out without paying the price, but what if some psychic ability actually made her uncomfortable in the house? I’d never been a believer but I was beginning to wonder.
What was it the Sun, Moon & Stars listing had said? I went back to the website and read it again. Psychic Readings, using tarot, tea leaves, and personal objects.
Tarot cards.
I needed to make an appointment with Randi.
The breathy-voiced receptionist at Sun, Moon & Stars informed me that Randi worked Tuesdays and Fridays, that readings lasted about an hour, and that Randi tended to book up quickly. However, she said, there had just been a cancellation. Could I make it tomorrow at eleven? If not, it would be another week. I took the appointment and asked if I could bring something for Randi to look at. I was assured that doing so would only assist Randi, and get me a more accurate reading, “although only God is completely accurate,” the receptionist said, and chuckled softly.
Chapter 17
Sun, Moon & Stars was tucked at the back of Nature’s Way Whole & Organic Foods, an expansive store that capitalized on all things organic, from meat, fish, poultry, eggs, and vegetables, to vitamins, protein powders, natural skin care, environmentally sensitive cleaning products and herbal remedies. There was also a dizzying array of baked goods—many made with grains I’d never even heard of—and gluten-free products, as well as a massive section devoted entirely to the vegan lifestyle. If you couldn’t find what you were looking for at the Nature’s Way, you were probably too picky to live.
On the opposite end of the sprawling spectrum you had Sun, Moon & Stars, a miniscule retail space packed with a treasure trove of trinkets and textiles, most made by local artisans. Here the savvy shopper could find natural stone jewelry, healing crystals, books on the occult, and flowing cotton garments with tie-dyed patterns, shiny beads and silk embroidery. A hand-painted ceramic incense holder, in the shape of a lotus flower, held a stick of lavender-scented incense.
A vibrant young woman wearing a flurry of multi-colored scarves and what looked to be a one-piece black leotard greeted me. Judging by her voice, soft and breathy, this was the lady I’d spoken with on the phone. I found myself wanting to whisper, as if I were in a library or a place of prayer.
“Callie Barnstable. I’m here to see Randi.”
“Welcome, Callie. You’re right on time.” She pointed to a narrow wooden staircase on the right hand side of the room. “All of our practitioners are located on the upper level. I’ll buzz Randi to let her know you’re on your way.”
The upper level featured a hallway with seven doors, three on each side, with a public restroom at the end. A small waiting area offered a tweedy orange couch with a matching chair, vintage Salvation Army if I had to guess. The main wall was blanketed with a patchwork quilt, the patches comprised of embroidered and embellished fabric scraps in a variety of shapes, colors, and textures. It looked as if it had been a project that many hands had worked on, over many, many hours. The end result was compelling.
I was just about to take a seat when a door opened and a woman drifted out. She had long, dark hair that fell in loose waves down to her waist, cinnamon skin, eyes the color of lapis lazuli and a dancer’s body, long and lithe in black leggings and an oversized sweater in shades of copper. Her nails were painted gloss black, and every finger, including her thumbs, sported a silver ring, some filigreed, some plain, some with stones, some without.
There are few people in this world who radiate kindness, beauty, and charisma. Randi was the personification of all three. She could have bottled and sold her essence like some sort of magic potion. I found myself staring at her, mesmerized. She smiled, revealing a row of perfectly straight, pearl white teeth.
“Welcome to Sun, Moon & Stars, Callie. My name is Randi. I’ve been expecting you.” Her voice had a soft, musical lilt to it, and the faintest hint of a British accent.
Maybe it was her intonation, or maybe it was just my imagination, but I could have sworn she meant she had been expecting me before I’d made an appointment. But that was just crazy thinking, wasn’t it? I followed her down the hall and into her room.
The space had been painted floor to ceiling in an inky midnight blue. A myriad of tiny pot lights twinkled overhead, giving the impression of being outdoors on a cloudless summer night. A gigantic candle in a tall wrought iron stand glowed softly in one corner, the scent a cross between cinnamon and vanilla. The only furnishings were a black lacquer rectangular desk, a deck of tarot cards laid out in the middle, and two chairs upholstered in a dark navy needlepoint fabric. There was a sun embroidered on the back of one, and the four phases of the moon on the back of the other. Randi sat cross-legged on the chair with the sun, her feet tucked underneath her, and gestured to the other. Several colorful bangles jangled on her right arm.
“Please be seated.”
I did as I was told, forcing myself to ignore the overwhelming urge to bolt back down the staircase, back to the safety of Snapdragon Circle. What was I, a complete non-believer of all things even remotely occult, doing here? I didn’t even read my horoscope in the daily newspaper.
Randi seemed to sense my discomfort, because she leaned forward and pushed the tarot cards over to one side. “Elaine says you wanted a tarot reading, but I get the sense that you are not here for that. So tell me, Callie, what it is I can do for you?”
I assumed Elaine was the receptionist/store clerk, and if so, when I made the appointment, I was sure I said I planned to bring an object. So Randi’s ‘sense’ could be nothing more than putting two plus two together. I knew from my limited research that ten tarot cards probably represented the Celtic Cross. I only had five cards, which either meant half of a Celtic Cross, if there even was such a thing, or something entirely different. That’s what I was here to find out. But before I laid out my five tarot cards, I needed to know that I could trust her, or at the very least, test her knowledge.
“Before we begin I’d like to know a bit more about tarot. Gain a bit of an understanding so I know what to expect.”
“Fair enough.” Randi took the deck out of the case and began to shuffle while she talked. “There are several variations of tarot cards. I personally use the Rider-Waite tarot deck, which is the most well-known. Regardless of the illustration, a true tarot deck will contain seventy-eight cards in two parts: twenty-two cards in the Major Arcana and fifty-six cards in the four suits of Minor Arcana. Arcana means secrets in Latin. The names of the suits vary, but the most common, and the ones used in Rider-Waite, are Wands, Cups, Swords, and Pentacles. Are you with me so far?”
I nodded.
“Okay. Now the Major Arcana are also called trumps, from the Latin trionfi or triumph. Each of those are named and numbered with Roman Numerals, starting with 0, The Fool, through to XXI, The World.” Randi flipped a couple of cards face up onto the desk—X Wheel of Fortune and XVII The Star. “You can see there’s a lot of detail symbolism in the illustrations, too much to go into at the moment, but something you’ll want to pay attention to if you decide to get more interested in tarot.
”
I nodded again. The reverence in her tone, the way she almost caressed the cards, drew me in. It as if she was reading me a beloved bedtime story, and the imagery on the cards only solidified the feeling.
Randi flipped four more cards, face up, onto the desk, one of each suit, Wands, Cups, Swords, and Pentacles. “Each suit consists of the same structure, similar to the decks of cards you’d play euchre or bridge with: ace through ten, plus four court cards, a page, knight, queen, and king.”
“So the Wands, Cups, Swords, and Pentacles are a bit like Spades, Diamonds, Hearts, and Clubs.”
“More than you could imagine. In fact, our modern deck of fifty-two cards is derived from tarot cards, and the four suits correspond directly with the suits in a tarot deck. Wands are Clubs, Cups are Hearts, Swords are Spades, and Pentacles are Diamonds. We can take it one step further by associating the suits with hair and eye color.”
“In what way?”
“In tarot, Cups represent people with light brown hair and a fair complexion, Wands those having blonde or red hair and blue eyes, Swords with dark brown hair and hazel, gray, or blue eyes, and Pentacles very dark people.”
“So in the case of tarot, I would be represented by Swords, because I have dark brown hair and hazel eyes. My mother, who was blonde, would be represented by Wands.”
“That’s right. But there’s more. Both decks also represent the elements, in the same way astrology does. Thus, Wands and Clubs symbolize Fire. Cups and Hearts, Water. Swords and Spades, Air. Pentacles and Diamonds, Earth. Someone born under the sign of Taurus, for example, would be represented by Pentacles in tarot, and Diamonds in our modern deck.”
Did she guess I was a Taurus, or did she just pull that out of thin air? This whole visit was starting to wig me out.
“It sounds a lot more complicated than I expected.”
Skeletons in the Attic (A Marketville Mystery Book 1) Page 8