Magic & Mayhem

by Susan Conley

  He stared, his eyes crystal hard. “You really haven’t been keeping in contact?”

  “No.” How else could she convince him? “I couldn’t begin to tell you the names of nurses or doctors, except for our family physician. Maybe you should talk to Dr. Millard.” She stood and offered her hand to the man who clearly despised her. He ignored her again, glancing down at his desk.

  “She always said you were gifted. You gave her back my uncle’s life. If you hadn’t spoken to her, she would’ve lost him that day.”

  “Believe me, I’m a klutz, more clumsy than average, but gifted? No. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She shook her head, sinking back down into the chair. She might as well let him get his whole story out. She sighed in resignation.

  He picked up a frame from his desk — a woman and man smiled back from the picture. “She doesn’t look familiar to you?”

  Chelsea shook her head, catching her lower lip between her teeth. She didn’t want to say she didn’t recognize the beautiful dark hair woman he obviously loved. “I’m sorry.”

  He dropped the photo back to his desk. “That’s too bad, Ms. Karmikel. She left you her entire estate.”

  Chapter Five

  Chelsea felt the blood drain from her face, and the room spun quicker as his words sank into her confused brain. No wonder he was so angry. “What?” She rose quickly from the chair, nearly knocking it over, and took several halting steps backward. “No. No, I … I don’t understand. It’s out of the question! How could she leave her estate to a total stranger? No, I don’t want it.”

  Her grandmother saw Chelsea’s pale face and reached for her hand. “Chelsea?”

  “What the hell is going on?” she asked for the second time in as many days. Her face prickled like she was being shot with electricity all over again, and dizziness swamped her. She reached out a hand to steady her stumbling steps before collapsing to the floor.

  “Chelsea!” Grams leaned over her for a moment, then turned back to face Brad Rearden. “Get me a glass of water!” she snapped and patted Chelsea’s cheek. “She just got out the hospital and you dump all of this on her? All this nonsense to do with your aunt? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just ask? Where’s my water!” she nearly shouted, anger fighting with panic as her voice cracked.

  Brad jumped up and fetched a glass from a nearby pitcher. “Here,” he said nervously.

  Grams grabbed a tissue, and patted a little of the water over Chelsea’s pallid cheeks. Chelsea groaned and pushed her grandmother’s hand away. “Here, take a little sip of water,” Grams said. “There, you’re fine.” But Grams’s stormy eyes found Brad’s own widened ones.

  “Grams, I’m okay.” Chelsea sat up, head still swimming.

  “I didn’t know, she never said,” he stammered.

  “Why would she? We don’t know you. Here, give me a hand,” Grams demanded.

  Together, they helped Chelsea back to her wobbly feet. “I’m fine, really, it’s just been a rough couple of days.” She dropped down into her chair.

  “What were you in the hospital for?” Brad Rearden asked.

  “Freak accident, nothing to worry about.” Chelsea put a hand to her spinning head.

  “You seem to have quite a few accidents, Ms. Karmikel.” He looked her over skeptically.

  “She was electrocuted, knocked her blow dryer into the shower,” Grams explained, but when she said it, it sounded all that much more silly to Chelsea’s ears.

  She would be the first one to admit grace wasn't her middle name but not in front of Brad Rearden. He was insufferable. “Grams! Over share!” She glowered at her grandmother who had the decency to look apologetic. “Really, it was nothing. Sorry about that, I’m just a little over tired.” She waved away Grams’s words, and turned her withered gaze back to Brad Rearden. “It has nothing to do with you. Look, Mr. Rearden, I’m sorry, I don’t remember your aunt, and I obviously can’t accept any inheritance. I don’t want it. You keep it.” She smiled with the same coldness he’d greeted them with before she tugged on Grams’s arm. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

  “Ms. Karmikel, maybe you should rest for a moment. Honestly, I meant no offense.” He came around his desk.

  “Too late, Mr. Rearden, but I think you already know that.” She looked him over like he was some six legged insect, letting him feel the weight of her stare. “It’s obvious you thought I was the kind of person who preys upon those unable to protect themselves, especially the kind and innocent, which you are neither. Now, if you’ll please move, we’ll get out of your way.” She tapped her foot and made to step around him when he didn’t move fast enough.

  “Please take my card. We can talk about it again.” He shoved the card into her hand.

  “Fine, I have your card,” she muttered, stuffing it into her pocket, gathering her grandmother. “But I don’t want or need anything from you. I certainly won’t need to talk to you again,” she said coldly. “As I said, keep the inheritance, and leave us be.”

  “I’m afraid it’s isn’t that simple, Ms. Karmikel,” he called as they exited his office.

  “Call my attorney. I’m done here. Mr. Landon Marcus, he’s in the book,” she called over her shoulder. “And Mr. Rearden,” she turned back with an icy stare, “stay away from me … and my grandmother.” She gave him a diamond hard glare as she slammed his office door.

  Chapter Six

  Brad Rearden stepped from his office to meet the gaze of Sally, his secretary. “Well, I guess she told you.” She covered a smile. “I think we might have misjudged her.”

  He stared at the door, wondering what had happened to his well thought out plan. “I think you might be right.” He went back to his office and sat behind his big desk. She couldn’t be what she seemed, she couldn’t be innocent. He’d built up an image of someone not at all like the real person. “Damn, I’ve let myself do it again! I’m a fool!” he said out loud to the empty office.

  Sally heard his exclamation and whispered, “Yeah, boss, I guess you are. Maybe we both are.”

  Brad stepped back out of his office. “Sal, can you send me the information on the Karmikels? I want it on my laptop.”

  “Sure, not a problem.”

  He shook his head and gave a tired sigh. “And I guess get her attorney on the line.”

  “Right away … and boss?” She looked at him as he ran a hand over his head.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ll send her some flowers with an apology for your … attitude … okay? Maybe it will help her cool off.”

  “That’d be great, Sal. Maybe I’ll seem less of a heel.”

  If he’d ever felt like a bigger cad, he couldn’t remember it. Sometimes he couldn’t help himself, he leaped before he looked. If she hadn’t acted so damn saucy when she came in, then so innocent … maybe he could have controlled himself better. He didn’t even know her, hadn’t a clue what made her tick, and already she was pushing his buttons … in all the right ways … from her auburn curls, sapphire eyes, and damn it to hell, her pert nose, not to mention the attitude. He felt himself redden — he really was an idiot.

  Sally called to him. “Mr. Marcus is on line one.”

  Great. He picked up the line. “Landon, you’re going to be getting a call.”

  “Already had one,” Landon Marcus returned. He was an older man, handling mostly estates. “Chelsea Karmikel doesn’t like you.” He chuckled. “She had a few choice words for your … um … profession. Son, I don’t know what you did, but I’d steer clear of her if I were you.”

  Brad rubbed his tired face. “I wish I could. Should I send her check to you?”

  “Hey, don’t put me in the middle of this. Just hold off for a few days. Call me then, okay?”

  “Sure, I guess a couple more days isn’t going to matter, one way or the other.”
Brad looked down at the drawing he’d started on his notepad: Chelsea Karmikel’s eyes.

  “Let her calm down, she always had a temper to go along with the hair. Lara too. Lara’s mother, Bee, was the same way.” Landon chuckled. “It’s a wonder you still have your head attached.”

  “Yeah, I got that impression too.” He thought about how feisty her grandmother had been, protecting her cub, and it brought a smile to his face. His impression was that Chelsea Karmikel was cut from the same cloth. “Alright, I’ll call in a couple of days. Thanks, Landon.” He eased the phone back onto its cradle.

  “Sally?” he called.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you get me Chelsea Karmikel’s address?”

  Chapter Seven

  Chelsea glanced at the car radio. Five o’clock. Great, downtown traffic was going to be an unholy bitch. Fan-tastic. Usually the little yellow Chevy Aveo matched her personality: sunny and friendly. Right now, not so much. She glanced over at Grams. “So are you coming back to the farm or not?”

  “Well, since you asked so nice … ”

  She winced at the tone she’d used with her grandmother. “Sorry, I’m worn out and scared.”

  “What do you have to be scared about?” Grams touched her hand, reassuring her.

  “I didn’t tell you everything.” Chelsea squinted out the window. “I had strange dreams in the hospital, more like nightmares, or maybe it was something else.” She sighed tiredly. “I don’t know anymore. And yesterday … ” She swallowed, refusing to meet her grandmother’s eyes. “Yesterday, I think I talked to a ghost.” She laughed abruptly. “Yeah, I’ve so lost it.”

  Grams twisted around, her blue eyes focused on Chelsea and the truths she was revealing.

  “There’s more about what happened in the hospital, or maybe I should say … about dying.” She laughed again this time in disbelief, not daring to look at her grandmother, not with what she was about to say. “This is beyond belief, I know it’s not possible.”

  Grams studied Chelsea, then turned away, but not before Chelsea got a glimpse of the knowledge that shone in Grams’s eyes.

  “Are you okay?” Chelsea stole a quick glance. “What is it?”

  “I’m fine.” Grams cleared her throat. “Maybe I can help you. I probably should have said something earlier, but we were all hoping … and when you didn’t, we thought … ” It came out as a jumble and Grams exhaled sharply. “I should probably start at the beginning, tell you what I know … I mean about what your Great-Granny used to be able to do … and maybe what you can do too.”

  Chelsea slowed the car to a crawl, her heart hammering against her ribs. “What are you talking about, Grams?”

  Grams twisted the wedding band around her third finger, her nerves filling the small space inside the car, creeping across Chelsea’s skin like tiny ants, increasing her own nervousness.

  “We’ll talk about it when we get home. We should have had this conversation a long time ago, but your parents … well, we didn’t want to scare you.”

  Chelsea pulled up in front of the house on State Street. She stared at her fingers, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “What could Great-Granny do, Grams?” She turned to give her grandmother the full weight of her stare.

  Grams reached across the small car and hugged her granddaughter. “Come on, help me pack. We have a lot to talk about.”

  Grams hurried through the packing and Chelsea dragged the suitcases out to the car.

  “Do you remember all those people that used to visit Great-Granny?” Grams asked as she slid back into the car.

  “She always said it must have been her magnetic personality.” Chelsea’s lips lifted in the first smile since leaving Brad Rearden’s office.

  “Well … ” Grams grinned. “That may have been true. But it might not have been the whole truth.”

  • • •

  A bottle of white wine sat between Chelsea and her grandmother. Chelsea lifted the glass and took a sip. Grendel wrapped herself around Chelsea’s legs, and she bent to pick her up.

  “Tell me what I need to know, Grams.” Chelsea ran her fingers through the small cat’s fur, settling her nerves. She twisted the glass’s stem in her other hand, swirling the sparkling liquid.

  Grams looked down her nose at her granddaughter. “It wasn’t me that got electrocuted and then tried to hide it. Had unusual dreams and ghosts visiting, and didn’t bother trying to talk to her grandmother. No,” she shook her head, “it wasn’t me.” She looked at Chelsea and sniffed. “I thought we were closer than that.” Chelsea heard the hurt in her grandmother’s voice.

  Grendel yowled at her as if agreeing with everything Grams was saying.

  “You’re right, I should have called you. But I was afraid you’d bring Mom and Dad home. There’s no need for them to leave Florida, Mom’s happy there. It was just another silly accident. Chelsea the klutz.” She glanced away and drew an uneasy breath.

  “Tell me about the dream,” Grams said as she too sipped the sweet wine.

  “Odd that you wanted to talk about Great-Granny, because the dream was about her. She told me I was changing, but not to be scared, and that it’s been happening in our family for as long as anyone can remember.” Chelsea stood and walked around the table, wine glass in her hand. She thought about everything the dream revealed. “When Great-Granny started talking about the changing, I knew I was losing it. I mean, changing into what? A freak? She said one day I’d understand and I was going to be fine. I woke up with her scent all around me.”

  “Ah … ” It was all Grams said.

  “Ah? What does it all mean? Do you have any idea how crazy I feel? It all felt so real.” She came back around to the chair, and sank down to rest her head in her upturned palm.

  “Before we start on that, I need to know what happened in the hospital.” Grams gazed hard into Chelsea’s dark blue eyes. “Apparently there’s more you didn’t tell me.”

  “I don’t recall everything before the hospital, but after I remember all too well.” Chelsea closed her eyes and tried to relive the sensations, the crackling snap as she slammed back into her body. “It’s like I was there, but wasn’t. Everything got bigger, brighter, larger than life.” She squeezed her eyes tightly together, memories of death surrounding her. “I smelled the antiseptic, heard the sounds of the emergency room, but my body wouldn’t move. And I wondered if I’d died, wondered if this was how my life was going to end. A stupid blow dryer falling into the shower.” She took a bigger sip of the wine. “My attention was focused on the doctors and nurses hovering over my body. I heard them calling out orders, but I couldn’t feel them. Then, all around me, it brightened even more, and the world narrowed down to a shaft of light.” She choked on the words, but she couldn’t turn them off once she started.

  “All the sounds fell away, it was deathly quiet, and something pulled on me like a puppet. When I stepped towards the light, it felt like there was a hard rubber barrier. There was something I wanted to see, someone who waited for me. The barrier was just starting to give when I heard a voice saying it wasn’t my time.” Her eyes gained a far away focus. “It was like the rubber barrier pushed back, and I snapped back into my body. When my body could move again, I fought with the doctors and nurses to leave me alone.” She rubbed the goose flesh on her arms. “Everything hurt all over, my head felt like a soccer ball.” Chelsea gulped what was left of her wine, picked up the bottle, and filled the glass again.

  “There was something else there too, something scary, something dark. It was away from the light, but I could feel its tug on me, it wanted me too.” Chelsea trembled.

  Grams stood to walk around the table and wrapped her arms around Chelsea to rock her. “But you’re fine now? No after effects?”

  She rested her head on her grandmother’s shoulder. “Just scared is all.”


  “And the ghost?” Grams asked as she came back to her seat.

  Chelsea’s eyes grew darker when she spoke of Officer Brenden Davies. “His wife thought I was some kind of nut or a crackpot. He died more than fifty years ago.” Her throat was thick, her voice broke on the words. “I swear to you, he was standing right by the front door.” She pointed to the living room. “But when I turned around, he was gone.” She’d walked a complete circle, and slid back down into the chair.

  “I can’t believe all this is happening,” Grams said, her face pale in the early evening light.

  Chelsea wiped her eyes and sniffed. “I’m going freaking crazy.” A laugh bubbled up and out of her throat. “Or are you going to tell me different?”

  “Everything is fine.” Grams picked up her hand and rubbed the chilled flesh between her own.

  Chelsea gazed up into her grandmother’s blue eyes and asked, her voice soft. “What is that I don’t know, Grams?”

  “Those people who came to visit Great-Granny wanted her help. Usually, they’d just lost someone, and everyone knew what your Great-Granny could do, she was so gifted.” Grams’s voice was whisper quiet. Her eyes gazed back into the past. “We never knew until they showed up on the porch and asked for help. Great-Granny helped them the best she could to get on with their lives.”

  Grams glanced away, cleared her throat. “Sweetheart, what Great-Granny could do … the gift … well, it can skip generations. There have been strings of seers in our family, and then there have been dry spells.”

  The gift? Seers? Skipping generations? What the heck did that mean? “Grams, what are you talking about?”

  “Honey, I can’t do what Great-Granny could do, and neither can your daddy. We were hoping neither could you.” Her fingers found the band on her third finger, and the ring slipped easily around in a circle. “When you were three, and nearly died, Great-Granny had a vision. She said you’d be a great seer, even better than she was, and she was very powerful, but she could only help the families, she could only hear the whispers. Offer the hope of the light.”