by Stacy Juba
Hearing Vicky’s disapproval, her fear, made Dawn’s stomach plummet as if she were on a thrill ride in Covington Center. Vicky must think she was a monster.
"You’re right, I’m not proud," Dawn said. "It’s called mind control. Serina wanted us to practice and we might have crossed the line getting experience. She’s had lots of influence on us, Vicky. Some things she’s taught us, like meditation, are great and others seem wrong. Candace might be confused. I sure am."
"Are you confused enough to kill a cat for practice, Dawn?" Vicky asked. "To kill a human? Is that ‘crossing the line?’"
Dawn’s voice froze in her throat. Heart pumping wildly, she stammered out in a hoarse whisper, "Vicky, I would never do anything like that. You have to believe me. I did some stupid things, but I wouldn’t hurt anyone. You’ve got to tell me everything."
"Why should I? How do I know..." Vicky’s words died, but Dawn filled in the blanks. How do I know you won’t hurt me?
"I risked my reputation to warn Scott. Remember?"
Vicky swallowed hard and nodded.
"I’m in over my head, Vicky. Way over. I think Candace is, too."
After a hesitation, Vicky’s eyes softened and she motioned for Dawn to follow her down the hall. She pulled Dawn into the vacant chemistry lab, leaned against a table of empty beakers and smoothed back her unwashed dark hair. "Where do we start?"
"Tell me about these killings," Dawn prodded.
Vicky twirled a beaker in a circle on the black lab table, her fingers wound tight around the glass. "It started with our cat. Candace let Diamond out one day in August, supposedly by accident. Diamond was a house cat. We never let her out alone. I searched for Diamond all over the yard, while Candace watched. Then a neighbor pulled out of her driveway. You've seen my street. It's not one that people drive fast on, is it?"
Dawn shook her head, a stale taste in her mouth. She had a suspicion where this tale would lead.
"My neighbor zoomed off like she was in the Indy 500. This woman is pushing seventy. She never drives like that. Diamond got to the end of the road, which was strange. She always stayed on grass. She was afraid of cars."
"What was Candace doing?"
Tears glided down Vicky's cheeks as she released the beaker from her grip. "She kept staring, as if she was concentrating. I saw the car heading toward Diamond. I screamed and ran toward them, but it was too late." Her voice dropped to a hush. "My neighbor was confused. She didn't remember where she'd been going, why she’d even started the car. She was as upset as I was."
Dawn's knees sagged. She scraped out a chair and fell into it. Scott had been run over too, and Candace had been there, pumping gas. Suddenly, the cat incident sounded like a trial run.
"What does this have to do with Candace?" Dawn wanted to hear Vicky say it, say the unfathomable.
"It seemed as if Candace was controlling the driver." Vicky braced her hands against the table and shot Dawn a stricken look. "I told myself it was impossible and let it go. But there were other times where things didn’t seem right. Like Candace would stare at my parents when they were hassling her, and they’d give in and let her do whatever she wanted. They reminded me of robots."
Vicky paused, her forehead wrinkled with fear. "I kept convincing myself it was my imagination, that everything was coincidence. Until..."
"Until what?" Dawn interrupted, crossing then uncrossing her legs. She couldn’t sit still.
"I was there when Tim was killed." Vicky recited her story in a dull monotone, but her piercing eyes didn’t leave Dawn’s face. "My friends were fooling around near the rides in the Center, walking down the street. Out of nowhere, Tim raced across the train tracks. I called out his name, but he was in a daze. Next thing I knew, the train was rushing toward him, and he just kept walking."
A tingle wormed its way up Dawn’s arms as the hair bristled on end.
"We were all glued to the spot, then we ran across the street to Tim," Vicky went on, wetting her lips. "I looked over my shoulder to see whether anyone had gone for help, and Candace was slipping around the corner, toward the beach. I didn’t even know she was there."
Candace had ordered Tim’s death. She must have. To ward off the picture, Dawn closed her eyes. Her thoughts fluctuated between Candace as a friend and Candace as a murderer.
"She was late coming to my house that night," Dawn said, memories rushing back. "And, she was at the gas station when Scott was hit."
"Why is she doing this? Was she mad at Tim because he liked me instead? What did she have against Scott? She’s my sister. How can she be a..." Vicky choked out ‘killer.’
"Serina could be controlling her mind," Dawn said, thinking out loud. "Then Candace wouldn’t realize she’s responsible. But why would Serina want to kill Scott and Tim? She’s got even less of a reason than Candace. We’ve got to find out whether Candace is acting on her own or with Serina."
As she said the last part, Dawn shook her head. Her friend couldn’t be a killer. Serina must be spearheading this. At least that’s what Dawn wanted to believe.
"This is too far out," Vicky said, hugging herself. "The things we’re saying ... they’re impossible. I’m talking to her later."
"No, you can’t let her know we’re onto her. We don’t know what’s going on in her head." Dawn arrived at a quick decision. Even if Vicky kept silent, Candace could read her thoughts.
Dawn stood and walked backwards toward the door. I’m sorry, Vicky, I’ve got to use mind control on you. Forget this conversation. Forget you talked to Dawn. Candace can’t know that you compared notes. But this conversation will be buried deep in your mind so if Dawn, and only Dawn, asks you to remember it, you’ll be able to.
Dawn left the room before Vicky jolted out of her blank state. Whatever the reason, Candace had killed Tim. She had killed Scott. She had killed Diamond.
Who would she go after next?
***
After her early dismissal, Dawn sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor with her notes and crystal cleansing materials beside her. She added three pinches of sea salt to a small bowl of mineral water and stirred it clockwise with her finger. Her instructions called for using a clear pointed crystal, but since she didn’t have one, Dawn improvised. She’d read the human body in its organic form was like a crystal, so she hoped her finger would do the trick. Supposedly intention played a big role in all this mystical stuff – your strong desire to make a change was more important than the details of how you proceeded. Luckily, Jeff had sea salt in the cupboard for cooking, so she didn’t have to improvise too much.
She sprinkled three circles of the mixed salt water around her Lapis Lazuli necklace pendant, moving outwards as she sprinkled. Please remove darkness from this crystal and infuse it with healing light, Dawn prayed to whatever deity or angel who might be listening.
Dawn repeated the procedure with each of her earrings. According to the web site, this ritual removed the impressions of those who had mined, handled, or sold a crystal. Even though those energies might not be intentionally negative, except in extreme cases like Serina’s, crystals absorbed the sorrows and pain of people who touched them, making periodic cleansing a good idea.
She’d found other methods, like immersing crystals in salt water for several days, but Dawn didn’t have the luxury of time. Besides, some sources indicated that soaking in salt water could damage a crystal and cause it to break.
Dawn set the jewelry on the floor beside her, letting them sit for a few moments, and paged through her Lapis Lazuli printout. Serina’s description had been accurate, but a few additional items caught her attention. Lapis helped the wearer stick to her principles and rise above pettiness and attempted double dealings.
If that was true, then recharging them with her own energy should be an advantage against Serina and Candace. Dawn’s eyebrows shot up. Around home, Lapis brought contentment and a strong sense of family loyalty. At work, it caused you to gain promotions, maintain integrity and inspire trust of
others. Could that be why she’d been torn between Serina and her family? Serina sucked Dawn into trusting her with the Lapis, while at home Dawn and her family got to know each other better.
Strange. Dawn never would have believed that a piece of jewelry could hold so much power, but now she wondered. She especially appreciated the last tidbit about Lapis, that it could be used for psychic protection. Recharging it under starlight was another way to program it. Perhaps she would try that tonight, go for a double whammy.
Dawn leafed through a couple pages about psychic attack, chills skating down her neck. She’d stumbled across the term on the Internet and printed the materials to review more closely. All the symptoms fit: nervous exhaustion, anxiety, sleeplessness, a drained feeling around certain individuals.
According to the web site, many people were energy vampires. Some could be handled by setting limits and reasoning with them, like friends who always dumped their problems or mothers who over-criticized. Dawn reread the next paragraph, which described another category. People who sent negative vibes out of sheer hatred.
No, that didn’t fit. Serina and Candace didn’t hate her. They wanted her in their circle. The third category seemed most accurate, people who were harmful to you on a spiritual level. They weren’t deliberately sending malicious vibes, but they were a dangerous presence in your life.
Dawn rubbed her third eye as she stretched out her legs. It didn’t hurt now, but was psychic attack the root of her painful episodes? It even explained her cold. Being around Serina and Candace had worn her down. Her sixth chakra wasn’t just blocked out of guilt, as Serina had indicated. It was a distress signal. Dawn had ignored her own inner voice all along in favor of Serina’s tantalizing promises.
Swallowing, she scanned the advice for counteracting psychic attack. Get all personal possessions returned. Easy enough. Neither Serina nor Candace had any of her stuff, at least to Dawn’s knowledge.
Never accept gifts or hospitality from the suspect. Candace’s hostess gift plant would have to go. Dawn knew it might be smart to get rid of the crystals too, but all her research had convinced her that they could be beneficial when programmed with her own intentions.
Stay away from the suspected parties. That was a tough one. The web site recommended avoiding eye contact, as eyes were the gateway to the soul. Dawn grabbed a notepad and jotted down techniques of creating a closed circuit through posture, and imagining a Plexiglas screen between yourself and the energy vampire.
She skimmed the final suggestions. Meditate. Spend time in nature to ground yourself and draw strength. She’d try them all, but right now Dawn needed to finish with her crystals.
She carried the jewelry to her bed, ready to experiment with another programming technique. Dawn leaned against her pillows and pressed her thumb against each stone, visualizing herself beaming a ray of white light from her forehead, enveloping the crystals and sweeping negativity into a black hole. She closed her eyes, picturing white light cascading down the hole and summoning positive energy. Dawn adjusted the stones in the hollow of her hand.
These crystals will only be used for love, light, and the good of all, she thought, using a phrase from one of the web sites. They will protect me from psychic attacks. Dawn mentally repeated the words twenty times, envisioning a protective shield of white light pulsing from the crystals.
Through the light, whirled a flurry of images. They blinked into focus, a picture of two teenage boys in tee-shirts and shorts, and a young girl with light blue eyes. The kids stood on the beach, grinning for the camera.
The girl was easy, despite her short bob with the feathery sides. Dawn had no trouble recognizing a younger version of Scott's mother, Susan, from the sad vision after his death. She identified Tim Travers’s father next. Jeff had referred to him once as Tom. Dawn had never seen him, but he looked exactly like his son.
It was the third person that made her start, a teenage boy with shaggy blond hair and a familiar grin.
Her stepfather.
Jeff.
Chapter Eighteen
Dawn searched the office for Jeff's high school yearbook, wearing her earrings and necklace. Gift from Serina or not, the crystals had already provided a clue.
She had sent her mother a mental push to go upstairs and call a couple old friends, getting her out of the way. One of her mother’s newsletter layouts filled the computer screen.
Maybe Jeff stored his yearbook in the attic or basement, if he’d even saved it, but something had directed Dawn into the office. Journalism texts and illustrated books about ships crammed the shelves. She sifted through a desk drawer of phone bills, credit card receipts and check stubs. Sighing, Dawn moved to a file cabinet.
She found a rubber-banded stash of Christmas and birthday cards in the files, and nothing else. Dawn opened the closet’s double folding doors and crouched to examine a cardboard box of photo albums.
Her hands quivered as she pulled out a flat navy book with Covington High School engraved in silver calligraphy. Dawn flipped through the smooth pages, picking out Jeff, Tom and Susan in the rows of senior headshots.
There was no Serina in the class. Under two girls' names, a line in parenthesis read "Photo not available." Elaine Corbett and Alice Mitchell. Dawn concentrated. Neither name stirred up emotion.
She turned back to the beginning, scanning every photograph. Color guard. Yearbook staff. Chess club. Spanish club. Newspaper staff, with Jeff identified as editor. It was hard to believe these kids were parents now. They didn’t look that different from kids today. Dawn studied the candid snapshots: Tom Travers dressed as a cheerleader for Halloween. Jeff helping his girlfriend Susan adjust her Homecoming crown on the dance floor. Jeff, Susan and Tom crowded around a beach bonfire.
Dawn’s pulse rate increased. This was the same image she’d seen while programming the crystals. She touched the beach picture, inviting psychic impressions, waiting for something, anything, to reveal itself.
She wasn’t prepared for the room to tilt and the walls to bounce. Suffocating darkness closed around her, and with a gasp, Dawn ducked her head between her knees. She felt herself falling, falling, falling, down an abyss...
***
Elaine hesitated at the tarnished railing that separated parking lot from beach. On the other side, Jeff Magnuson flipped a hamburger on the grill. She wanted to tousle his blond hair and feel its softness. Ever since she moved to town in junior high, she dreamed of wearing his letter jacket and kissing him. Owning him.
Could he really like her, as Lindsay had said? Elaine watched as Susan, Jeff's stupid girlfriend, reclined on the sand. Her red bikini top and cut-off denim shorts showed that she had gained a few pounds. Maybe he had noticed, too.
Elaine still couldn’t believe Lindsay, the cheerleading captain, yearbook editor and most popular girl in the senior class, had asked her to a private party. Elaine thought back to their unexpected conversation during graduation rehearsal earlier in the week.
"You should come to the beach Saturday," Lindsay had said as they waited in the gym to get their caps and gowns. "A few of us are hanging out the night after graduation."
Elaine had faltered, stunned. Lindsay and her best friend Susan usually made fun of Elaine because of her clothes. Her grandmother insisted she wear frumpy dresses when everybody else was wearing jeans.
"Me?" Elaine asked.
"I know you and I haven’t exactly been friends, but we’re practically high school graduates," Lindsay said, tossing her waterfall of golden curls. "We should put all that dumb popularity stuff behind us. Jeff’s bummed because he never noticed how pretty you were. You like him too, right? I've seen you checking him out."
A blush surged into Elaine’s cheeks and she fought to downplay her eagerness. "He’s okay."
Lindsay leaned forward, bracelets slipping down her wrist. "It’s not too late. He's gonna dump Susan soon. You wouldn't believe how bossy she is."
"He really likes me?"
"Come to the be
ach party. You'll see. Make sure you dress up."
"For the beach?" Elaine asked.
"We're eating at the country club after. My dad’s getting us in. It’s real fancy. Susan doesn't know we're going, so she'll look like a slob."
During graduation-week activities, Elaine tried reading Jeff’s mind to determine whether he really liked her, but her screen came up blank. Sometimes mind reading worked, but usually other people's thoughts flowed into her consciousness when she least expected it.
But tonight as Elaine stood there taking in her surroundings, her inner radar picked up a threat of deception. Lindsay was dressed as casually as Susan, in a sweatshirt and jeans. Wearing tee-shirts and shorts, their boyfriends sipped sodas by the grill and adjusted the station on the boom box. Unless they’d brought clothes to change into, no one looked as if they were headed to a country club. Besides, why were they barbecuing if they were eating dinner out?
Dusk dropped over the sky and a cool breeze disturbed Elaine’s ash blonde hair.
"Come on, everybody pose for a picture," Lindsay called to her friends.
Elaine fingered the salmon dress and string of pearls she’d found in her grandmother’s room. She had to get out of here before anyone noticed her.
A funny smile touched Lindsay’s lips as she lowered the camera. "Well, well, well. Look who's here."
Susan swooped up from the sand and followed Lindsay’s gaze beyond the railing. "What are you doing here?"
"Lindsay invited me," Elaine said, her jaw clenched.
"You thought I was serious?" Lindsay asked, rolling her eyes. "You’ll believe anything. You really thought Jeff would dump Susan for you?"
Surprise flickered in Jeff’s eyes and Elaine knew Lindsay hadn’t informed him of her prank. She stared at him, praying he would rescue her. He glanced around at his friends and her hopes ignited. He was going to tell them off.