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The Choice, A Powerful & Engrossing Romantic Suspense Series (Walk the Right Road Series, Book 1)

Page 25

by Lorhainne Eckhart


  “I guess it’s not something I share with anyone. I pick up on people’s feelings. Even see things in my dreams sometimes. My granny taught me how to stay close to nature and ground myself in the natural world. The tarot’s a tool I use for clarity to help when I’m seeking answers. As you know, our path’s not set, but if we can see what obstacle lies before us, we know what we need to do to overcome and change that path.” Marcie continued to shuffle as Maggie tossed all the food back in the fridge and then pulled out a chair.

  “Do you mind if I ask you something?” Diane clasped her hands on the table in front of her.

  “No, go ahead.”

  “If you can see all this and have the answers, why did you get involved with Dan?”

  She stopped shuffling and met the honest curiosity in Diane’s big eyes. The words should have hurt, but there was no cruel intent meant in her query.

  “I was so in love with Dan. The signs were all around me, but I chose not to see. When he cornered me at Granny’s yesterday I realized then my obsession with him was partly his doing. He’s a wizard. He found my weakness, my pain, and he used it to make me want him. This is nothing but a game to him. He’s dangerous.

  She shuffled the worn, crinkled cards one last time. “In New Orleans I met the most amazing woman, Mama Reine, surrogate mother to Sam. She smacked me upside the back of my head with the words of my deeds. Something my granny would have done if she was alive.”

  Diane and Maggie scooted their chairs closer.

  “Oh this sounds interesting. Mama Reine, tell me about her.” Maggie said.

  Marcie thumped the cards once with the knuckles of her right hand and then held them to her chest. She looked at Diane and then Maggie, considering how much she should say. “She’s a witch in Terrebonne Parish who reminds me of Granny. Mama Reine helped me see again, right after I got my memory back. You know those who practice magic must be completely honest in all aspects of their personal life. You use energy to strengthen the power within you, not to use over someone else. What I took for granted, and forgot, was a very simple rule taught to me. When I practice my gift, and no matter what anyone says, this is a gift from God. The spiritual laws are clear. Don’t ever abuse your gift. And never is it to be used for personal gain to harm another. It’s what I did when I helped Dan. I refused to see all the roadblocks right in front of me, the cycle of abuse. I chose to be a victim by allowing him to treat me so abominably.”

  Marcie picked up the cards and shut her eyes, visualizing herself grounded to the earth. Please dear God, bring in your angels and spirit guides to protect me. Surround me in a circle of white light. And please provide me with really clear answers for this mess with Dan and how to get out of it. Marcie opened her eyes to two women who were studying her so closely she felt like a frog in a petri dish they’d just dissected. Marcie cut the deck, put it back together and laid out three cards in front of her: the Knight of Pentacles, the Lovers and Judgment. “Well this is interesting. Pentacles are earth, material possession. The knight brings the message. Presenting an offer, this man’s already here. He’s hard working and takes care of details in pursuit of a goal. This is Sam. Stands firm from opposition, will not quit and is true to his personal convictions. And the Lovers are a physical addiction, a man and a woman, similar to the story of Adam and Eve in the garden fighting to resist temptation; a choice between right and wrong. Needing to find out what you care about and facing that ethical or moral choice. Which one will you decide? And Judgment, this is a good card in a way. The archangel above, all the dead rising up from their coffins, held accountable for their actions. Judgment day’s coming. And burdens will be lifted and released, for those who take a stand in the right. A transformation, a day of reckoning, being cleansed, refreshed. What it's saying is I need to learn this lesson, so it’s not repeated. Have I released my past mistakes? I need to so they’ll be behind me, and I’ll be ready to start new.”

  “So what does all this mean?” Diane whispered.

  Marcie laid her hands over the cards. “Past, present and future gave me a glimpse into me, except I’m not seeing the whole picture. I’m rusty, and I know there’s more. I’ve always had trouble reading me, but sometimes there are instances where we’re not supposed to know.”

  “Now I’m confused. What does that mean?”

  Marcie leaned back and winced, before looking thoughtfully at Diane. Her leg throbbed. “I need to go back to my teacher. It’s time. Because what I suspect is at play, and what I can’t see, is beyond time and ours. It’s had history and generations to build. First thing in the morning, we need to go back to Las Seta and see my teacher, Sally Wilcox. She’s waiting for me to return.”

  Maggie arched her dark shapely brows, jerking her head a few inches forward as if a rope had just yanked her. “She’s a witch.”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  “The whole night was a waste of time.” Richard tossed his keys on the long kitchen counter, where they slid under a stack of bills. His hard mouth set in a firm line as he opened the light oak cabinet by the sink, reached for a glass and filled it with water, guzzling it down. “Dan knew something was up, you know how cagey he is. He wouldn’t sit still, kept looking around the dark pub. Said his vibes were at a peak and he’s positive someone’s watching him. And there’s no way he saw Sam and Jesse. I couldn’t see them.” Richard toyed with the glass, stared out the kitchen window into the black night and then let out a heavy sigh before setting it in the sink and turning around.

  Now after midnight, Marcie struggled to keep her weighted eyelids open. Her head bobbed and every part of her ached. She wanted nothing more than to go to bed.

  “He even had the nerve to apologize for involving Maggie. But you know Dan and his remarkable way of shifting blame. He said and I quote, ‘I was in a bind, and I panicked. You have every right to be angry.’” Richard pivoted and jabbed his finger at Marcie. “Also, he made sure to blame you, Marcie. He said you didn’t finish what you were supposed to, bad girl.” Richard sarcastically waggled his index finger.

  Jesse and Sam leaned up against the wall. They looked so tired compared to Richard, obviously their adrenaline was not as pumped.

  “Richard, what about the auction he sent you to? We know he wanted you out of the way, but did he offer any explanation?” Diane cleared her throat and flicked her hands through her messy hair.

  “Let me tell you something about Dan, he always has an answer. Not much trips him up. And unless you’re trained to read body language, you wouldn’t know he’s lying. I guess I didn’t see it before. Now I honestly believe he doesn’t know how to tell the truth. He said he must have screwed up his facts. He was positive the guy at Commercial Irrigation said the auction featured a bankrupt contractor’s tools. Even the message he left about the investor I was to meet, he said the guy’s not returning his calls, apparently Dan’s been hounding him, leaving messages as to why he didn’t show.”

  “This guy sounds like a sociopath. Except, I’ve never heard of a man using women to do his dirty work to protect him because he’s too scared. Really, this is a new twist.” Diane appeared fascinated.

  “Don’t get too enchanted Diane. Ever hear of a guy named Charles Manson? That’s exactly how Dan sucks the women in.”

  Diane’s lips thinned and her cheeks heated. “I’m not stupid, Richard. And if this guy’s anything like Manson, he’s fucking dangerous. I’m trying to get into his head, so I know how he ticks. And that helps us catch him.”

  Marcie broke the standoff. “Would you two stop bickering I’d like to hear it all and no Diane, you’re not stupid, but I was. Now if, it’s all the same to you, move on. I’m tired, and my leg hurts. Sam, Jesse, what did you pick-up from where you sat?”

  Sam didn’t move from his spot by the door where he leaned against the wall. He watched her with such tender caring her heart fluttered and had to remind herself to breathe. “Marcie, you’re tired. You look as if you’re going to keel over.”

>   “I am tired, Sam, but I’d like to hear everything.”

  “There’s nothing else, Marcie. Dan’s cell phone rang, and he left.” Richard stood behind Maggie, resting his hands on her shoulders.

  “Marcie, you need to go to bed. Let’s figure out where we go with this in the morning.” Jesse leaned against the counter. His dark eyes appeared unusually brooding.

  Maggie yawned and reached for her husband’s hand. “You know what, we’re all tired. Everyone stays here tonight. We have enough room, and then we can start tomorrow with clearer heads. Sam, help Marcie upstairs to the guest room. I’ll leave some blankets on the sofa for you, Jesse. Sam, if you want to sleep on the second sofa in the living room, you’re welcome to. Diane, I’ll get you settled on the pullout in the den.”

  Maggie was subtle. The choice was theirs to stay together or not. Chairs scraped, and goodnights were issued. Then Sam appeared at her side, scooping Marcie out of the chair, his strong arm encircling her waist, and he all but carried her upstairs to bed.

  Sam left the door open when he set her on the edge of the bed. He backed up a few steps. Marcie wanted to clear her throat as it seemed smothered with something thick and warm. She must have stared like a fool. Time slowed, and Sam didn’t move. She ordered herself to take a breath and then another. To be reasonable and clear in what she wanted. She needed Sam, but she realized as he lowered his head and looked away, it wouldn’t be tonight.

  “Goodnight Marcie.” And that was all he said before he left and pulled the door closed behind him.

  * * * *

  Marcie’s leg ached fiercely when she woke in the guest room late the next morning. The first thing she saw was the ceramic cross with cherubs and angels mounted on the warm peach wall, overtop of the white six drawer dresser. She ran her hand over the fluffy pillow beside her, and let out a groan from the twinge in her shoulder and the persistent ache that climbed up her leg. She had to pee, or she’d probably have laid there and wallowed in discomfort. Left with no choice, she tossed back the golden floral duvet and scooted like an old woman out of bed, still wearing Maggie’s sweats.

  Marcie opened the door and hobbled down the hall to the main bathroom. Feeling gross and gritty, she climbed into the shower, allowing the hot spray to ease her aches, careful of the scabbed over scrapes and cuts. She scrubbed away what she could of the dried on blood and dirt from the crash. When Marcie returned to the guest room with her long, wet hair brushed back, her duffel bag rested in the middle of the already made bed.

  Marcie dressed in tan capris wide enough at the leg to fit her cast through. A mocha T-shirt, a white sweater overtop and one sock and running shoe completed her ensemble.

  It was slow going maneuvering the stairs while she listened to the chatter, distinct morning rattles of dishes, pots and pans and all manner of the breakfast things. No wonder no one heard her stagger awkwardly on her crutches into the kitchen. But maybe they did; Diane handed her a piece of toast, coated with thick strawberry jam, which she gobbled while being ushered out the door by Maggie, before she could say good morning to the kids and Maggie’s Mom, who was already tending the children.

  Sam, Richard and Jesse waited outside. Everyone was dressed casually in blue jeans, T-shirts and windbreakers and piled into Maggie’s eight passenger SUV. But not before Sam lifted Marcie into his arms and carried her down the steps while she swallowed the last of her toast. Richard drove them straight to the Sequim marina.

  Everything fell right into place. She didn’t know how Maggie and Diane managed to convince the men to go and see Sally. What she expected was absolute refusal from the men saying they wouldn’t even consider wasting their time on some voodoo nutcase. Marcie expected to be going alone or at the very least just with Sam.

  Richard owned a cabin cruiser he kept docked at the Sequim Marina. Marcie sat up top. Sam faced her. She could see the hurt in his eyes each time he glanced her way, adding to the mass of confusion clouding her powerful feelings for him. She allowed Sam to help her out of the boat once it docked. He passed her the crutches and followed behind. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to accept more right now. She hobbled up the pier to her parked Toyota. Everyone slowed to a snail’s pace so Marcie wasn’t left in the dust.

  “Okay, so which way to this guy who’s got the information on Dan?”

  Marcie froze, gripped her crutches and whirled around to look first at Maggie and then Diane. Neither would meet her gaze as Sam, who was now breathing down Marcie’s neck, waited for someone to reply. She blinked, realizing that while she wallowed in angst over the barrier between her and Sam, not once had anyone mentioned Sally.

  “I’d still like to know where you found out about this guy who has all this inside information. Was it a phone call you got last night when we were out?” Richard questioned both Maggie and Diane and then frowned when he looked down at Marcie. And she knew darn well her panicky eyes had to be big as a tea crumpets saucer.

  Marcie stuttered. “It’s my idea. I told Diane and Maggie last night it’s time to go back to my teacher. She’s a friend of my granny’s and a prolific, gifted reader who was teaching me the path to enlightenment when Dan snared me with his charms. Before I got on the plane to New Orleans, she begged me not to go, to come home, so she could finish teaching me. She knew what I was doing, and she knows what Dan is. Jerome’s come to me several times in my dreams, and he’s told me to go back to Sally. And you know what? None of us knows what Dan’s going to do next. If he needs all the marijuana, he’s going to try something, and if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to be prepared so he doesn’t catch me off guard again. He’s unpredictable. He’s threatened you, Sam. You too, Richard. He’s dragged Maggie into my mess. And you both know with his connection to Lance Silver, he has power behind him. And don’t forget, Richard, what you said last night. If he really is like Charles Manson, we need to expect the unexpected, and Sally can help.” Marcie knew she rambled.

  That did it. Sam flung his hands in the air while Richard pinned Maggie with his famous you’ve-wasted-my-time look. Jesse crossed his arms, smiling smugly. The light danced in his eyes, as if he alone understood what she was trying to do.

  “Great, that’s just great. How long’s it going to take us to get back? We just wasted over an hour to get here, when we could have been formulating a concrete plan to establish some solid, credible evidence against Dan and his connection to Lance Silver.” Sam smacked the back of his hand into the palm of his other hand and then jabbed his finger at Marcie. “This voodoo bullshit, I got all the time with Mama, and I’m done with it. Listen up, Marcie. A dead guy comes to you in your dreams, telling you to go back to your teacher and you listen?” Sam walked away, down the dirt hill, back to the dock. He must have realized no one followed when he stopped halfway down. Marcie continued to the truck. She pulled open the back door at the same time as Diane and Maggie did on the other side of her clunky SUV.

  “Whoa, wait a second. We’re going back. Stop. We’re not getting in the truck. Jesse, Richard, help me out here.”

  Marcie slid her crutches onto the floor and dangled her injured ankle out the door. “Sam, were here. So if you feel it’s a waste of time, you go back. I’m going to see Sally. I need help, and she can provide answers, whether you believe it or not.” She lifted her leg in and closed the door, grinning at the heat of his hurried return.

  Marcie cranked down the window, to air out the stuffy vehicle.

  Sam leaned in, shaking his head, a man resigned to his fate. “We’re staying one hour, that’s it.” Indignant, Sam climbed in on the driver’s side.

  Marcie leaned forward, patted his shoulder and smiled brightly. “It’s going to be a little crowded.”

  Packed like a can of sardines Jesse pulled his door closed, after he and Diane crammed in the backseat with Marcie.

  Marcie gave hurried directions to Sally’s place. One hundred acres of preserved forest, meadows and green-space, off a quiet cove by the state park, located at the far
end of the island. She coveted her privacy and isolation. People on the island respected her for it.

  “I hope she’s there.” Maggie was perched on Richard’s lap, in the front. Her large dark eyes glanced at her husband.

  “She’ll be there, even though we’re landing in on her with no warning.” Marcie felt confidence pour through her.

  “Well, of course she’ll be there; she’s a psychic. She should know we’re coming. And didn’t you say Jerome told you it was time to see her?” Sam’s sarcastic remark earned him a flick to the back of his ear from Marcie.

  “Don’t be a smartass. Oh, there’s the driveway on the right.” She gripped the back of his seat, pointing a finger past his face.

  “You mean the trail that’s not passable? That’s not a driveway.”

  “Come on, Sam, just drive in. It’s fine.”

  The ruts jolted the SUV, and bushes scraped both sides of the vehicle, but Sam steered down the narrow trail, which seemed as if no vehicles had ever passed through. It opened into a beautiful grassy clearing full of fruit trees, mature gardens, a pond and several outbuildings. And right in the center of this lush property was a large, square fenced garden, filled with vivacious pinks, purples, reds, yellows and whites. Spectacular flowers, fall perennials and wild flowers danced in the sunlight. A short, compact woman stood in the middle of it, wearing a straw hat, watching them approach.

  Marcie opened the back door when Sam parked in front of the light brown cottage. Before she could step down, Sam appeared at her door, lifting her out and gently lowered her beside him. She looked up. Her heart pounded when panic licked away her confidence, leaving her feeling shy and awkward. She swallowed hard. “Thanks Sam, crutches please.” Tension still lingered between them, except each show of kindness dissipated her hurt a little more. And he was still here. Maybe he was more intuitive than he let on.

  Gently he touched her cheek. “We still need to have a talk, just you and me.”

 

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