“Hey!” I yelled, jumping up without thinking, leaving poor Judd positively green around the gills. “Knock it off! You’re making a bleepin’ mess!”
The entity grabbed my chair, lifting it high and dropping it with a sharp snap.
And then I saw her.
Carys, in the middle of it all, her light-up sneakers blinking madly, her hand waving to me, a smile on her freckled face as her mouth moved.
“She’s here! Do you hear her, Win?” I asked as Judd jumped up and stood behind me, gripping my upper arm.
“What’s happening? Is Aunt Priss here?”
I put a protective hand behind me, hoping to ease Judd’s fears, but his entire body trembled so hard, the vibration of it made his teeth chatter.
Win held up a hand and tilted his ear toward the room, his jaw tight and clenched, his handsome face hard with concentration. “I do.”
Carys began dancing around, her red pigtails bouncing with almost tangible glee. The lights of her shoes made patterns on the wall and the air in the room thickened.
Judd clung harder, his fingers digging into my arm, his words shaky. “What is that on the wall? Where are those lights coming from?”
He could see the lights from Carys’s sneakers?
What the truck was going on? How was this ghost so powerful?
“It’s okay, Judd,” I soothed, my eyes staying focused on Win. “Just stay behind me.” Looking at my Spy Guy, I saw his brows smush together. “What is she saying, Win?”
Before Win could tell me, Carys reached down and grabbed a piece of my cracked table, hurling it across the room, the lights of her shoes blinking frantically as she ran to the middle of the pile of the wood.
Judd, clearly terrified, backed away from me and plastered himself against the wall, his lean body shrinking in fear. “What’s happening?”
“Judd, it’s okay. Please trust me. Just stay put,” I begged, trying to keep an eye on both of them. Win still had his head cocked, his ear tipped toward Carys as she threw chunks of wood in the air, her expression no longer smiling, but clearly angry. “Win! What’s she saying? What does she want?”
Win ducked as a table leg flew his way, turning end over end, narrowly missing his noggin. “Stephania, look out!”
I dodged in time to miss a spindle from one of the chairs. A spindle she threw so hard, it drove itself into the wall just above Judd’s head.
“Carys! Stop it this instant, young lady!” I chastised, for all the good it would do me. It only made her angrier, because that was when she whipped up a nice wind storm—one so fierce, my turban was torn from my head and I ended up slammed against the wall next to Judd—who, goddess bless him, tried to help. He really did, but he was no match for a ghostly competitor like Carys.
As Judd attempted to grab onto me and pull me toward the front door, he only ended up smushed back against the wall, with me pinned back against his chest.
Sheesh, the force was strong with this one. How had she learned to navigate this kind of ghostly trickery, and from whom?
“Carys!” I shrieked over the howl of the wind, the strain of my neck muscles pulling and aching. “Stop it now!”
Win somehow pushed his way through what felt like gale-force winds and latched onto my hand. As everything in the room swirled around, papers whizzing past my face, the shredded wood circling our heads, Win held onto me, and I held onto him for dear life.
It felt like we were on that ride at the fair called the Gravitron, where the centrifugal force held you in place against the wall as you spun.
“We need to get to the door, Stephania! We have to get out. Grab Judd’s hand!” he hollered, pulling at me until I thought I’d break in half.
Out of nowhere, someone, above the whir and frenzy, screamed, “Carys?”
Everything froze midair.
My skin, stretched so tight I’d never need a facelift, loosened, and my muscles flexed and released. The wood hovered above our heads, the papers that had been whirling around the room suspended in time.
My eyes darted to the beaded curtain between the store and our reading room to see who’d called Carys’s name.
And then there was Carys, whose sweet, innocent face, flushed with color, went from riddled with anger to a broad smile in a split second and everything hovering in the air hurtled to the ground in a pile of rubble and splinters.
The lights from her sneakers continued to flash on the wall as Carys stared at the parting of the beaded curtain.
“Cary’s? Carys, is that you?”
Okay, what in all of the supernatural, cuckoopants weirdness was going on?
I stared at Cleo Wallace, my jaw unhinged.
How was she capable of seeing her sister?
Chapter 9
As Carys quite suddenly disappeared, I shook off my disbelief and sprang into action. “Cleo, stay there!” I shouted. “Don’t move. I’ll come to you.”
“Madame Zoltar? I want to thank you for your kindness, but I think I have to go now,” Judd said, his voice shaky, his eyes darting around the room at the mess and at Cleo.
Instantly, I was apologetic. “Judd, if you’ll just let me explain—”
His lean hand with exceptionally long fingers shot upward. Swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, he shook his head with a definitive nope. “No-no. No need. To be honest, I don’t think I want to know. How would you like me to pay you?”
Gosh, he was sweet as pie, wasn’t he?
Win extended a hand to him, which he took and gave a slight shake. “No charge, mate, but we do hope you’ll come back sometime soon so we might rectify…erm, this.”
But Judd began to back away as though he’d seen a ghost—well, you know what I mean. He looked terrified at the possibility of returning to the shop, and who could blame him?
“No, no, Mr. Winningham. No need. Thank you both for your time.”
“If you need help processing, Judd, or you have questions, please come back,” I called after his quickly retreating back. “There’s truly nothing to be afraid of. I can explain…honest.”
He hopped over the mess on the floor like some sort of Olympic hurdle jumper and scooted past Cleo, muttering an “excuse me” before practically running toward the door.
I sighed, my shoulders drooping in defeat. He was going to have nightmares to rival a Wes Craven film.
Win placed his hands on my shoulders and massaged them with soothing hands. “Dove, how doth thou fare?”
Flapping my hands, I nodded my head. “I’m fine. Mini face-lift, and my guts kind of topsy-turvy aside, I’m okay. You?”
That was a silly question. He looked immaculate. Somehow, even after a cyclone, he still looked perfect.
He squeezed my arms to reassure me. “Right as rain. Shall we handle the questions surely racing through our guest’s mind and find out how we might assist?”
“Yes, of course,” I murmured, trying to shake off my shock. “Cleo? Let’s go to the front of the store where we can talk more comfortably.” Win helped me over the debris and I held out my hand to her.
Cleo, her spine stiff as a board, her red hair windblown, nodded her head, her eyes wide and glassy as she took my hand.
Her icy fingers wrapped around mine and I led her out to the storefront, which was only marginally cleaner. We had two small chairs with throw blankets on them that Win pulled out for us.
He motioned for us to sit, but I was too nervous to settle. “Cleo? Please, have a seat.”
She gripped the arms of the chair and took a seat, obviously incredibly shaky if her buckling knees were any indication.
“Cleo?” I said gently. “Can you tell me how you knew it was Carys in the reading room?”
She lifted her chin, her eyes filling with tears as she tucked her hair behind her ears. “The lights. I saw the lights of her sneakers. As long as I live, I’ll never forget what they look like. They were the last thing she wore before…”
Kneeling in front of her, I r
eached for her hand and held it, warming her fingers. “Do you mind if I ask how Carys drowned? Is it too painful to recall?”
Sometimes, when an entity passed violently, they behaved poorly. But Carys had been so docile the first time she’d appeared, I was puzzled by her violent behavior today.
Cleo licked her lips, tears falling from her round eyes. “We were at our lake house one summer. She wanted to go to the lake, but I wanted to stay in the cabin and read my book. Can you believe I thought Judy Blume was more important than her?” Blowing out a breath, she shuddered. “She was mad I wouldn’t go with her, and now, looking back…I wish…” She halted as her voice hitched.
But I firmly shook my head of undoubtedly tangled hair. “Don’t do that to yourself, Cleo. Even if you had a disagreement, that doesn’t change how she feels about you. Carys loves you. I don’t know what that was about in there. In fact, I don’t think it had anything to do with you. But I assure you, she loves you, Cleo. That was very clear on our first meeting.”
Blowing out another pent-up breath, she smiled sadly. “That makes me feel a bit better, but it doesn’t change the fact that if I had gone with her, she wouldn’t have drowned in the first place. I’m a good swimmer and she…wasn’t.”
“She didn’t know how to swim?” Win asked the very question that was floating around in my head.
At twelve, if she’d grown up around a lake, you’d think she’d know how.
“Carys was always a little afraid of the water and even though she could mostly swim, she never went to the lake without someone with her. The theory is, she slipped and fell, got spooked and panicked and well…you know the rest. Accidental drowning…”
My heart tightened in my chest. “Is that what the police called it? An accidental drowning?”
She nodded, the curtain of her red hair falling over her cheek. “Yes. There was a witness. Our neighbor about a mile away. Mrs. Halliwell. She saw Carys fall into the water from her dock, where she was fishing, but she couldn’t get to her fast enough to…to save her.”
So no foul play. Obviously, she wasn’t angry about the accident or that someone might have killed her…
Unless Cleo had offed her.
Sheesh, I’d become so jaded. No. I didn’t think that was the answer. It was clear Carys loved her sister. I wouldn’t think otherwise without solid evidence.
“Has she ever…appeared to you before, Cleo?”
Cleo looked at me with eyes full of tears, then shook her head, gripping my fingers. “I’ve never seen her or the lights from her sneakers before today. In fact, it never even occurred to me to try to contact her when I made this appointment.”
“Why is that?” Win asked, concern threading his voice.
“I was…afraid…”
I attempted to ease her fears. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Cleo, I promise you. I know the idea of ghosts and the afterlife as you see it on TV and in movies is scary, but I swear, it’s not nearly as malevolent as Hollywood would have you believe. Ghosts are just like humans. There are good eggs and there are rotten ones. But Carys? She loves you. I feel zero animosity from her toward you.”
More tears slid down Cleo’s blotchy face. “Then why was she throwing things around like that? She seemed pretty angry to me. She must still be angry that I wouldn’t go with her to the dock. That’s why I was afraid to contact her. I was afraid she hates me.”
I patted her hand and shook my head again. “It’s not you she’s angry with. I’m almost one hundred percent sure of that. She’s angry because she can’t get her point across. Probably because Win couldn’t understand what she was saying earlier. Sometimes entities are ever so short on patience. It’s hard enough for them to break through the veil, but to get a message through is even harder for some.”
Though, I was starting to wonder how true that statement was in light of todays ghostly shenanigans.
Cleo snorted, using her thumb to wipe her tears from her eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening. This is really real, isn’t it? Carys really was here? She really is trying to tell me something?”
Win handed her a tissue, his face lined in sympathy. “’Tis real indeed, Cleo. She truly did speak to me.”
That’s when I remembered, Win had said she’d spoken to him this time, too, and I had to wonder why he wasn’t mentioning it…but he sent me a signal with his eyes that told me now wasn’t the time to ask, leading me to believe either it wasn’t good, or once again, he didn’t understand what Carys had said.
I decided to circle back around and ask how Cleo was faring after seeing her almost-ex dead. It was clear, on the outs or not, his death had caused her pain. I wanted to know how genuine that pain was.
“Cleo, about this afternoon at the motel… Are you all right? I mean, as all right as you could be, under the circumstances. Can we help in any way?”
She looked at me then, her eyes sweet and sincere. “You’re really nice, Madam Zoltar. I’m sorry Leslie was so awful to you both.”
“Stevie. It’s just Stevie, Cleo, and we’ve experienced that kind of skepticism before.” Win snorted, but he didn’t object. “And you didn’t answer the question. Are you okay, or as okay as one can be after such a tragedy?”
She gulped, the muscles in her slender throat rippling. “Doug and I were on our way to a divorce, but as ridiculous as it sounds, even after all his bed-hopping and lies, I still loved him—or maybe it was the idea of him. The Doug I thought I’d married. Seeing him like that…” Her breathing hitched, the rise and fall of her chest noticeable under her T-shirt. “I felt horrible. I mean, I’d only just asked him for a divorce, and then this happened…”
The vibe I was getting from Cleo at this point was only remorse. It surely didn’t read as guilt. “Linda said no one even knew Doug was here in Eb Falls. Do you know when he arrived, or did you even know he was here, Cleo?”
Looking me in the eye, without a shred of hesitance, she nodded. “I did know he was here. I saw him last night, right before we went out to the country club at about ten or so.”
Oh, my word. That wasn’t a good sign. “Did you tell the police?”
“I did, and the girls gave me what for when they heard me tell the police, because I didn’t tell them Doug was here. But I knew they would, that’s why I didn’t say anything to begin with. You’ve seen how they behave. Also, I didn’t want to ruin Tammy’s night. It’s her wedding week, for bloomin’ sake.” Cleo shook her head, her distress clear as she nibbled on her thumbnail. “Anyway, I kept my mouth shut to save all of us some grief.”
I spoke my next thoughts as gently as I could. “Do you mind if I ask what Doug wanted? If it’s too personal, you don’t have to share.”
I think I already knew, but it could have been something innocuous. It never hurt to probe as deeply as possible.
Cleo rolled her tear-filled eyes. “To,” she made air quotes, “tell me something important. But everything with Doug was important. Really, all he wanted to do was tell me how sorry he was and lie about how he didn’t cheat on me with his latest groupie, but this time, he couldn’t deny it. I saw him with her at the bar he was playing at. They were kissing. I saw them with my own eyes!” she hissed.
My sympathy ratcheted up another notch. Infidelity blew. “I’m so sorry, Cleo. What an awful thing to discover.”
Cleo scoffed, her chin dropping to her chest. “I’ve known he was a cheat for a long time now, but seeing it…actually seeing it was…harder.”
“Did he tell you what was so important, Cleo?” Win asked as he leaned an elbow against the counter.
Sighing, she blew out a breath. “I didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. We got into an argument before he had the chance. I yelled at him, he tried to get me to stay and listen—he even grabbed my arm—but I told him to go back to Seattle and I left. I wasn’t interested in what he had to say anymore. I couldn’t stand another excuse—another lie. I was just so tired of the lies.”
Cleo didn
’t swear she was telling the truth, which struck me as starkly honest. She had to know the police would look at her first. Yet, she wasn’t at all defensive or making any attempt to convince us of anything other than the facts as she claimed to remember them.
“So you argued and then…?” I asked.
“Then I went and found the girls and we tied one on at the country club for Tammy’s bachelorette party.”
Win cleared his throat. “And what time did you get back to the motel?”
She shrugged and rubbed her tired-looking eyes. “I don’t really remember it too clearly. I think it was about three in the morning. It was right after we took a ride around Eb Falls in the limo I rented.”
I nodded. “Right. The same limo Leslie hung out of the skylight, yes?”
Cleo gave another snort filled with derision. “One in the same. Gosh, we behaved like fools. In light of today… It makes my stomach turn.”
“You couldn’t have known, Cleo. Surely you see that?” Win soothed.
I decided to divert the conversation to keep her from dwelling. “So you arrived back at the motel at around three in the morning. Did you see Doug then at all? Were you anywhere near the pond in the back of the motel?”
Her smile was grim and sheepish at the same time. “I didn’t see anything, Stevie. I was pretty drunk. It’s not usually my style, but after seeing Doug, and him stirring up all the heartache, I just wanted to forget, you know?”
I’d only been drunk a couple of times in my life, so I didn’t know, but I certainly understood wanting to forget. “I understand completely. Now, you told the police this, yes? All of it?”
Cleo folded her hands together. “I told them everything I remember.”
“Everything you remember? Meaning?” Win’s voice had gone hard, and I worried that he’d frighten Cleo off.
“Meaning.” She winced and rubbed her temples. “I have some blank spots. I sort of remember getting back to the hotel. I don’t remember a lot after that.”
I frowned. “But you said it was about three in the morning when you got back to the hotel. If you don’t remember anything after getting to the hotel, how can you know what time it was?”
Where There's A Witch, There's A Way (Witchless In Seattle Mysteries Book 13) Page 8