Touch of Light: A Baylee Scott Paranormal Mystery (The Reed Hollow Chronicles Book 1)

by April Aasheim

  “Probation. And, yes.”

  “This is why we can’t have nice things.” I said. “I need the five W’s. Now, please.”

  Kela went first. “The who’s and the where: Alex rescued Mr. B from the yoga studio with my help.”

  “Why?”

  “The why: Because he was wearing a pink ribbon and Alex thought he was being oppressed.”

  “He was,” Alex said, putting out a hand before Kela could continue. “Yvette had him trapped like a prisoner. I’ve been on the inside, Baylee; I know what it’s like. He was miserable. He told me so.”

  I looked from the basket to my brother. “Do you want to go to jail again? Is it easier on ‘the inside?’ Is that what this is all about?”

  “Of course not.” Alex travelled the room, waving his hands wildly as he spoke. “But I can’t live my life being afraid, not when there are injustices in the world. If we don’t take a stand, who will?”

  “You do know that if you’re caught, this will be your second strike. I can’t run this place without you, Alex. I don’t know how to…how to work the espresso machine or time rising bread. I don’t even know where we keep the artificial sweetener.”

  My chest tightened as I mentally listed all of the things I didn’t know how to do.

  “Chill out, Baylee. The cops aren’t coming. Mr. B wasn’t hers to begin with.”

  “True. He belonged to the pet shop.”

  “Nah, he just got caught up in the heist. He wasn’t even one of the cats they were selling.”

  I tried to imagine the scene - my brother freeing a dozen purebreds and one mutt. It was absurd, even for him.

  “Alex, we cannot bring any heat down on this house.”

  “Heat?” Alex snickered. “What is heat?”

  “The Fuzz,” Kela said. “Cop-pus jail-your-ass-us, in Latin.”

  “I thought you were on my side,” Alex said, shooting her a look.

  “I am. We’ll go to prison together. But I have a date this Saturday so I’ll need to make bail by the weekend.”

  They went back and forth, Alex working himself up, while Kela remained his uncommitted accomplice. Finally, I broke it up.

  “If either of you want to leave the glamorous world of tea service behind, I’m sure there’s a place for you in Monty Python’s Flying Circus.”

  “Is that even a thing anymore?” Alex asked.

  I ignored him.

  “Until we figure out the tax situation on this historic money pit we inherited, we need to keep our noses clean. Who knows how many years this place is in arrears?”

  “Six!” Mom’s voice said, though her body was nowhere to be seen.

  I shook my head but didn’t respond. I could only handle one stressor at a time.

  “Damnit, I love you, Bay, but you’re not my mother.”

  Alex poked at my shoulder as he stomped through the arch on his way into the cafe. Usually when we made contact, nothing happened - he was too familiar to me. But this time I saw something:

  We were kids. I stood in the center of his bedroom, one finger pointed at a pile of blocks, ordering him to pick them up. Though he was five years older than me, he complied.

  There were many other similar memories, sliding through me like spliced film: Me telling Alex to get better grades, to eat healthier, to bathe more frequently.

  It was shocking, really. I’d been a 3-foot-tall dictator. It was also depressing. I had lived most of my life following rules; so many, in fact, I choked on them. And here Alex was, daring to challenge the establishment for a cause he truly believed in, and I couldn’t support him. I watched as he disappeared into the kitchen.

  “He’ll get over it,” Kela said. “You know Alex. He doesn’t know how to play it cool like we do.”.

  She walked over to the café window and dumped Mr. B onto a patch of sunlight. He hissed once, then settled into a nap. She then took a seat at the empty counter. I joined her, noticing the scent of a new perfume.

  “Who’s the lucky man?” I asked.

  “What makes you think there’s a guy in my life?” she asked, helping herself to a bagel that had probably been sitting in the basket for a week. “I’m a whole woman, Baylee. I don’t need a man.”

  I quietly inspected her from head to toe. “Shall we start with the pedicure or the sparkly new sandals?”

  She wrapped one foot over the other, tucking them both beneath her long skirt. “Maybe I’m dressing for job success?”

  “You work from home.”

  “Happy feet are the foundation of a happy work day.”

  “He likes feet, doesn’t he?”

  Kela grinned. She was intoxicatingly lovely when she smiled, her dimples so deep you could set a marble in them.

  “Maybe,” she shrugged. “He’s always looking at the window display of the shoe store. It’s not that I really like him, I just can’t figure out why he hasn’t noticed me yet.”

  She bit into the bagel and wrinkled her nose, tossing the remainder back into the basket. Her eyes wandered to the sleeping cat. “Mr. B is a sweetheart, isn’t he?”

  “He looks sweet right now, but I’m afraid he’ll turn into something from Gremlins if we feed him.”

  “We really need to take you to some modern movies,” Kela said. “They’re in color now.”

  I smiled, feeling suddenly old around my younger cousin. “I have Netflix. I’m not a complete dinosaur.”

  “Of course, you do! Netflix is the mecca for the Downton Abbey crowd.”

  “Downton who?”

  “Oh, geez!”

  Kela pulled her knees up to her chest, balancing on the edge of the stool.

  “Does it matter, though? Does any of this matter? We’re all gonna die anyway, right Auntie Viv?” She called out as she slid from her stool.

  “I need to read.” She retrieved a copy of Wuthering Heights from the café bookshelf and a vapor cigarette from beneath the counter and wandered into the solarium.

  “Well, that was a quick turnaround,” I muttered. But that was Kela. Her emotions were as unpredictable as the Reed Hollow weather.

  “She’s right,” Mother said, materializing on Kela’s now-empty stool. “We all die. The lucky ones get to stick around afterwards to help take care of their families.”

  “And we feel so blessed.”

  “That rake almost killed Alex,” Mom continued. “Oh, why didn’t I get you kids vaccinated?”

  I scratched my arms involuntarily as I digested Mother’s newest bomb. “We never got our shots? That explains why you wouldn’t let us play with, and I quote, ‘the dirty children’.”

  “Carriers. All of them.” She waved a hand, leaving rainbow tracers in the air.

  My chest tightened as my hands dug through my pockets, searching for my anti-hallucination pills. I wrapped my hand around the bottle, finding it strangely comforting.

  “What’s wrong?” Mom asked.

  “For starters, I’m going to need better health insurance,” I said.

  “I think I have an old piggy bank around here. Or maybe it’s a jar. There’s at least three hundred dollars in dimes inside. Share it with your brother.” Mother kicked her feet up onto the stool beside her, more graceful in death than she ever was in life.

  “Do you ever have any regrets, Mom?”

  “You mean about my life?”

  “Yes. Things you wish you could do over? Or differently?”

  She pursed her lips, deepening the lines around her mouth. “If I’d known I was going to wander the afterlife with my roots showing and my winter weight, I would have taken more time for myself. Maybe even tried Botox.” She pressed her index finger into her lip lines. “I just hope I don’t run into anyone I know.”

  “Seriously, Mother?” I asked, exasperated. “Isn’t there anything you wished you had done differently?”

  “Now that I think about it, I suppose I should have kissed a few more men, learned calligraphy, and gone on a few more adventures before I settled down.
I gave up my whole life after the acting thing didn’t work out.”

  “That’s… unexpectedly sweet. And quite sad, really.” I patted her hand but hit the counter. “Do you regret marrying Dad and having kids?”

  “Not a day in my afterlife. I loved your father. Till death do us part came a little too fast. Except I was the one that died and he just…parted.”

  “I haven’t given up on Daddy,” I said, looking her in the eyes. “Or Ryan either. I don’t know what happened to them, but we both know this universe has many layers and many secrets.” I stroked the ring around my neck, for comfort.

  “It is strange how they both vanished. Now I fear there’ll be more.”

  “What do you mean, Mom?”

  “Nothing, just a feeling.”

  My heart skipped a quick beat, and I made a decision: I removed my glove and showed her the ring. “I think this is why Ella came. It was in the case, purposely hidden beneath the lining. I put it on - and I know I shouldn’t have - but it called to me. Now it won’t come off.”

  Mother narrowed her eyes. “It’s moonstone! I have memories of moonstone…but, I can’t pull them up right now.”

  She tapped her cheek repeatedly, as if trying to clear the picture on an old TV set. “Sorry,” she apologized. “Nothing.”

  I stared at the ring. In response, it squeezed my finger, though I didn’t admit this out loud.

  “You should stay away from Ella and her crazy followers,” Mom continued. “They’re nuts.”

  “What exactly did your coven do?” I asked, genuinely interested.

  “Drank potions. Summoned the elements. Dined with lesser demons.” She laughed, and I couldn’t discern whether or not she was joking. “I still have a spell book around here. You should find that old Book of Shadows. It might come in handy. But if your father ever returns, don’t tell him. I told him I gave up the craft.”

  She inhaled deeply, and before I could question her further, smoothly dissolved.

  Like most nights, I couldn’t sleep. It had been the kind of day that threatened to never end; now that it had, all I could do was stare at the ceiling. The events swam through my mind all dancing together in a swirl that wouldn’t quite connect.

  I glanced at the two pill bottles on my antique nightstand. One promised sanctuary from visions, the other, a deep and dreamless sleep.

  “Aw, my poor Bay Leaf. Having trouble sleeping?”

  “I told you not to haunt me when I’m in my bedroom!”

  I glared at Mother, who was sitting on the edge of my bed. Even if she hadn’t spoken, her thick perfume would have given her away.

  “Haunt is such a harsh term. I prefer ‘visit.’ Now tell Mother what’s on your mind. I’ve got all night.”

  Without a word, I opened each of the bottles and popped two pills, wondering what rabbit hole they’d take me down.

  Mother was talking about a cat…or a cape. Maybe a crow. Soon her image began to stutter in and out, like puffs of smoke from a clogged chimney. My own breathing deepened and my mind relaxed.

  Mom began to fade entirely, but not before I thought I heard her say, “I remembered something about the moonstone ring…”

  But, it could have been a dream.

  This whole day could very easily have been a dream.

  THIRTEEN

  The pills were effective, quieting both my thoughts and dreams long enough so I could get some rest. They did, however, leave me with a monster of a headache.

  I bumbled through a warm shower, then dressed in a gray pencil skirt, cashmere sweater, knee-high boots, and a pair of faux pearl earrings. I pulled my hair into an Audrey Hepburn up do, then secured it with a thin scarf. Despite my solid night of sleep, there were dark circles beneath my eyes. I dabbed on extra concealer and dotted on lipstick, muted to match my mood.

  I came downstairs to find Alex and Kela having breakfast in the solarium, not a customer in sight. Mother hovered nearby, smacking her lips.

  “Thanks for cooking. It looks delicious,” I said, sitting down to a plate of Alex’s silver dollar pancakes. “Mom,” I said, lifting my fork, “when you came into my room last night, you said something about a ring?”

  “Did I? My brain’s not what it used to be. I hate to blame the worms, but…”

  “Mother! Not while I’m eating!”

  “Ask her if she was in my room, too,” Alex said, “because my Crystal deodorant is gone.”

  “That was me,” Mother admitted. “That stuff doesn’t work.”

  “She says it wasn’t her,” I translated.

  “Where’s Mr. B?” Kela asked, dropping her napkin into her lap and looking around. “I haven’t seen him in a while. I thought he was with Baylee.”

  “I let him outside,” Alex answered.

  “But that yoga lady might steal him again,” Kela said.

  “Nah, I explained rules and boundaries to him and he gets it. He’ll be fine.”

  “Alex, you don’t suppose you’re spending too much time with animals?” I asked.

  He snorted, and handed me a bottle of syrup.

  Kela left the table to step into the back yard. We watched her slim form circle the building several times before she returned, pale-faced and wringing her hands.

  “I can’t find him! I don’t think he’s out there.”

  “Crap!”

  Alex tossed down his plastic spatula and followed Kela back outside to find the feral Mr. Bites.

  After breakfast, I went into my office, leaving Mother salivating over Mrs. Butterworth.

  I wasn’t sure how to start my work day. Normally, I had a routine – catalog and shelve new inventory, clean and dust, then prep new items for resale. But the experiences of the last few days had unnerved me.

  Let’s see.

  I decided to work on a set of rickety wooden chairs lined up in a corner. They weren’t old enough to be worth much, but if I gave them a new stain, they might sell anyway.

  Sighing, I realized the shop had essentially become a glorified storage unit. Mother had been a pack rat, collecting more things than she could sell. Add to that, we didn’t have a thrift store in this town, so locals often dumped their “treasures” with us, leaving them on our doorstep overnight.

  I wasn’t an appraiser like my father, and it took days or even weeks to determine the value of an object. I was slowly being devoured by the sheer mass of it all.

  I called Stan’s Hardware and ordered some furniture stain, then took a seat at my desk to change into my work gloves.

  As I peeled my “day gloves” from my hand, I once again noticed the strange moonstone ring. The stone was almost white now, and hummed with a soft energy. As I stared at it, the ring pulsed twice on my finger, as if acknowledging me.

  “What a curious object you are,” I said, still surprised by the lack of psychic impression. It was either very clean, or very shielded.

  I touched the stone with the tip of my finger, perhaps trying to poke it awake. I knew that in ancient cultures moonstone was worshipped by women, often for fertility. Legend also held that it offered protection for night travelers, on earth and between planes. Finally, I knew that it was associated with Diana, the Roman moon goddess.

  Staring into the stone’s milky center, I felt strangely calm and cozy, as if someone wrapped me in a warm blanket on a cold day. Still, it frightened me that I couldn’t remove the ring.

  I tugged on it, without success.

  “Why won’t you come off?” I demanded.

  “Shh…” the ring seemed to whisper, settling into an easy, rhythmic pulse.

  And the cozy blanket deepened around me.

  Meet me for lunch at The Lake House???

  Dave’s text brought a smile to my face and the moonstone ring was temporarily forgotten. Still, I had no idea what the proper protocol was for responding to an ex-fiancé’s request for lunch.

  Was it a date? Was I supposed to dress up?

  I surveyed my closet several times before calling
in professional help.

  “What’s got your panties all bunched up, Cousin?” Kela asked, melting into the doorframe as if she were made of mercury.

  “A boy. I mean, a man. He was a boy, but now he’ a man. I’m blathering, aren’t I?”

  “I have zero idea what blathering is, but I’m going to say yes.” Kela glided into my room, barefoot. “Now, start again.”

  I didn’t ask for her help often, but in this arena she was the expert, for no amount of book study could help me understand the male mind.

  “Kela, an old friend…a male friend… that I used to date… and things…”

  “Things? What sorts of things?”

  Her smile broadened as she began rummaging in my closet. “Too prim. Too proper. Too… is there a word for ‘needs to be burned?’”

  She slid my entire wardrobe to the far end of the dowel. “Got anything in those suitcases?”

  My two unpacked suitcases had been in the corner of my room for so long, I’d almost forgotten they were there.

  “No,” I said quickly. “I only have what’s in the closet.”

  “I’d loan you some of mine, but I’m not sure crop tops and slave bracelets are your thing.” She looked me over, her eyes resting on my abdomen. “There might be a size difference, too.”

  “How about this?” I handed her a baby-blue sweater that itched, but matched my eyes.

  “If you want to go out dressed like a human scouring pad, then sure.” She handed the sweater back. “So who is all this for?”

  “Do you remember Dave Cullins? We were engaged when I went off to college, but I broke it off when I met Ryan.” I looked down, suddenly embarrassed. “I think he just asked me out on a lunch date, but I’m not certain.”

  I showed her the text to decode.

  She shrugged, then headed towards my chest of drawers. She lifted out a shimmery blouse and a flowy skirt, setting them on the bed.

  “Just go out and have fun. You’ll know what he wants soon enough. The important thing is to act like you don’t care.”

  “How do I act like I don’t care?”

  She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. “Oh, my god! This is the guy who took your virginity, isn’t it?”