Rings On Her Fingers (Psychic Seasons

by ReGina Welling

  Zack was also sorry that he would be the one to burst her bubble. Kyle was his now, and he would not rest until he found the evidence he needed to put the man in jail where he belonged. His cop sense told him that there was plenty to find, and before it was all over, more people would come forward with evidence. Men like him always left a trail of broken marks behind.

  It didn't occur to Zack that what he thought of as his cop sense was actually intuition, similar to that which his sister considered a supernatural capability, if highly honed, as his was. If that concept had dawned on him, he might have allowed himself to deepen their bond; but, being pragmatic, he just assumed all cops got those feelings from time to time and those who acted on them usually were the ones who ended up getting promoted. He had relied on his gut to get him to this position, and he intended to keep it.

  Hitting print, Zack began putting together a file on Logan. Once the laser printer spat out the last of the documents, he added these to the file and marked it personal before slipping it into his top desk drawer. He would keep the entire thing under wraps, at least for now, because he didn’t have any hard evidence; but he planned to continue digging. Then, giving in to the inevitable, he grabbed the phone and dialed his sister's number.

  After telling her what he knew and hearing what she had learned, Zack read his sister the riot act for possibly putting herself and her friend in danger. He got the feeling she wasn't paying attention.

  "Look, I found out what I needed to know, and nobody got hurt. He walked right past me without a hint of recognition. Everyone's fine, and now we have more information. It was a win-win."

  "You think it was a good idea to put yourself in his crosshairs?"

  "Oh, stop with the concerned act. We both know it's just for show."

  There was silence on his end that stretched out until he spoke quietly, "That's not fair, and it's not true."

  "From where I'm sitting, it is. Can we just leave our own crap out of this?"

  "Fine, but this isn't over."

  When Gustavia ended the call, she just sat still for a moment. A feeling of vindication flooded her; she had been right all along: Logan was a creep and a con man. Next came a wave of sadness. Julie was about to lose another person from her life; and, even if it was all for the best, Gustavia knew it would hurt her friend.

  She wasn't quite sure what her next step should be. Zack had explained that finding Logan's aliases was not enough; he needed hard evidence to prove Logan was guilty, and at this point the only thing he could prove was the man had changed his name. Zack pointed out that Eloise had done the same thing; it was not a crime. As of right now, there were no warrants against either of those aliases.

  Zack had asked his sister not to say anything to Julie until there was more information, but this did not sit right with Gustavia. Julie needed to be protected before Logan managed to get her to sign something that would cost her everything she owned. That wasn't even the worst of it: Julie needed to know so she could protect her heart.

  So, Gustavia had given her brother one week. Then she was going to talk to Julie and hope that, by waiting, she would not lose her sister and best friend.

  Chapter 14

  As it turned out, Gustavia did not have to wait the full week to come clean with Julie because, three days later, Logan managed to take care of the problem himself.

  Julie had spent the morning finalizing the jewelry shots for Tamara. They didn't need much more than a few tweaks, so she was able to run them in batches through Camera Raw. The whole process only took a couple hours. After she was finished with those, she opened up the files from the kaleidoscope mirror images for evaluation. They were good, but there was something missing so she printed several of them out. This was part of her process: when an image or series wasn't quite working, she often printed out a few and tacked them to the wall. This let her live with them a few days until she got a new inspiration.

  She was pinning the last one to the board when her phone rang. It was Tyler.

  "Invite me to lunch," he said.

  "What?"

  "Invite me to lunch; I promise it will be worth it."

  "I'm just finishing up some work; but, okay, let's do lunch." Her doorbell rang. Still carrying the phone, she opened the door and there he was, huge grin on his face, large bag in hand. Smiling in welcome, she hung up the phone and gestured for him to come in. Tyler waved the bag saying,

  "It's fried chicken, my mother's recipe. C'mon, picnic in the gazebo," and he led Julie out the back door and across the lawn toward the formal garden.

  Tyler unpacked the picnic lunch while Julie went back to the house for lemonade and utensils. Making a decided effort to keep conversation light, Tyler asked Julie about her work. The one room she had not shown him during the tour was her studio.

  He had not yet decided whether to tell Julie about his research on Logan. It was a tricky subject. He was well aware that since he had only known her for a short time she was apt to find his interest meddlesome, but he couldn’t help himself. He liked this woman. Even if he was over-stepping his bounds, he still felt this nagging need—almost like a voice in his ear—to keep an eye on her.

  And, speaking of the devil, Julie's relaxed posture went noticeably tense. Tyler turned to see Logan striding toward the gazebo, followed by Gustavia who had apparently arrived at the same time.

  "Should I take off?" Tyler asked Julie in a low voice.

  "No," she answered, "you might as well stay. I don't think this is going to take long." Somehow, she felt comfortable enough with him that his presence did not feel like an invasion of privacy; but instead, it felt supportive, comforting, right. Gustavia, long legs flashing, passed by Logan to reach Julie first and gave her a big hug while whispering in her ear, "Be careful; he seems unstable." Julie could see that for herself.

  There was something different about Logan today. It was as though more of the wall between his inside and his outside had eroded to reveal a little more of the man, the monster underneath. He was making an effort to smile and appear genial, but he wasn't quite able to quell the cold glint in his eyes and the slight curling of his lip that spoke of the seething anger just below the surface. Julie felt his contempt, and it shocked her. She had been prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt; but, now, most of her willingness washed away as Logan greeted Gustavia, again flashing that look of hatred Julie had glimpsed the day before. She waited for him to speak.

  "I only have a few minutes. So if you would go and get those papers, I can drop them off at the lawyer's on my way back to the city," he spoke as though her signing the documents was a forgone conclusion.

  "I'm sorry, Logan; but I haven't signed anything." She was waiting for an explanation of their contents or some sign that would tell her what his intent had been when he had them drawn up. She was holding out to give him that final chance, and she was quickly losing hope.

  "Look, Julie, I can't waste any more time on this. If we are going to be married, we need to have our financial affairs in order. I can't accept anything less."

  Julie's stomach flipped once, then twice, then began to feel hollow.

  "I am never going to sign those papers; you need to drop this right now. It is not an option. My great-grandfather warned me about them, and he was right," Julie spoke forgetting she had decided not to tell Logan about her ghostly visits.

  He stared at her for what felt like a long time, "Your dearly departed great-grandfather? You cannot be serious. Exactly how did he manage to communicate from beyond the grave? Did you go to a séance or maybe he left you a message on a fogged up mirror in the bathroom? C'mon, Julie. Don't be some sort of new-age cliché."

  "It's not a cliché, Logan. I saw my great-grandfather—he and Grams both, to be exact—in the library the other night. He warned me not to sign any papers, and he was right. I read them. They give you ownership of everything. Complete ownership, Logan," She repeated it again for emphasis, "Sole ownership of my family home. I would like some expl
anation."

  Logan said nothing; Julie realized, if he'd had a reason, he didn't plan to share it with her. That couldn't be good. Far from the devastation she should have been feeling, indignation flashed to the surface as her hands ached to clench into fists.

  "Well? Do you have an excuse? Quite frankly, I think your refusal to answer says a lot about your motives."

  Brushing off any acknowledgment of treachery, Logan tried to shift the focus. "That idiot Gustavia's been putting ideas in your head. Seeing dead people. Why would you want to continue spending time with her, anyway?" Logan asked. "She's crazy; and, if you aren't careful, it will rub off on you."

  "Gustavia is not crazy, and neither am I. I know what I saw. Leave her out of this and answer the question." Julie was incensed he would say something so nasty right in front of her friend. She was even more irked he offered no explanation, no excuse, not a word in his own defense. She had expected him to have something positive to say for himself, but there was nothing. Her heart sank as she realized the misgivings she had been having were justified. Grams shimmered next to her, unseen. Her plan was working.

  "It's time you grew up and stopped holding on to your college days." He practically spat the words in her direction. "Time to make new friends, the right kind of friends. You have a degree in art history; why do you waste your time with those little photographs when you could be working in a museum? We need to go to the lawyer, get those papers signed, and move up the wedding date. It is time you had someone to take care of you, teach you how to make better choices."

  "So basically, what you are saying is every decision I ever make in my life is a bad one. From the friends I choose to my career, I always get it wrong?"

  "Well, that's a little harsh, don't you think? I wouldn't go that far, but you have made more than your fair share of mistakes," he replied as though realizing he had stepped over a line.

  "I think the only mistake I made was accepting your proposal to begin with. That is one mistake I can rectify quite easily. The engagement is off; the wedding is off; and I never want to see you again!" She pulled the ring from her finger and hurled it at him.

  Rage flashed through him, hot as a fiery furnace. No one confronted him. No one ever questioned his motives. No mark had ever screwed up one of his cons until now. His face burned with anger and he grabbed her by the arm. Hard. Hard enough to leave a series of finger marks. Then he bent, retrieved the ring, and tried to jam it back on her finger as she stood, dumbfounded, for a moment before responding.

  Tyler took a step forward; it was one thing to watch them argue, another entirely to stand by while Logan manhandled Julie for the second time in his presence. He clenched his hand into a fist; but before he could take another step, Julie wrenched herself out of Logan's grasp, then moved away from him, chest heaving with anger.

  Furious she would dare to stand up to him, he took a half step toward her, hand raised: the intention to hit her plain on his face and in his body posture.

  But half a step was all he managed. It was as though an invisible barrier rose up between them and he was unable to get any closer. There was a faint shimmer in the air near him. He struggled, his open hand quickly turning to the fist he now wanted to use to bend her will to his selfish desire. Instead of getting near enough to hit Julie, his fist raised then slammed into his own face. Hard. Shocked beyond belief, Logan stopped dead in his tracks and all the color drained from his face. He appeared to be listening to something only he could hear, then turned on his heel and walked away.

  Twice on his way across the lawn he looked back over his shoulder at the group with a look of incredulity, but he did not stop. Getting into his car, he fishtailed down the drive.

  Tyler and Gustavia looked at each other for a split second; each of them had come to the same conclusion. Logan had just had an encounter with Julie's great-grandfather. They hurried over to Julie, who was still rooted to the same spot. Even before they got close, they could see she was shaking.

  When she turned around, they realized it was not fear or anger causing the tremors. Julie, tears running down her face, was laughing. "Oh my God," she said, "why did I never see it before? He is such a total loser." It was never a good idea to agree with that type of character assessment when there was even the smallest chance it would come back to bite you in the butt so Tyler and Gustavia both kept silent.

  "Did you see that?" Julie continued on, "Tell me you saw that."

  "What did you see?" Gustavia asked.

  "It was great-grandfather; he somehow made Logan punch himself."

  Julie continued to laugh; Gustavia began to smile. Tyler was still thoughtful; he didn't think this business with Logan was over, not by a long shot. But eventually, as both girls devolved into full out belly laughs, he was able to put aside his concern and join in.

  "Did you see the look on his face?" Gustavia hooted. "It was priceless."

  Julie tried to feel bad for laughing over the ending of her engagement. She fully expected she would feel bad later; but just at this moment, whether it was nerves or a genuine reaction to the situation, it felt great to laugh. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this lighthearted.

  Eventually the three sobered up. Gustavia knew it was time to tell Julie of her adventure and of Zack's research. She chose her words carefully.

  "Julie, I have to tell you something, something about Logan; and I don't think you are going to like it," she began.

  Julie steeled herself for whatever was coming.

  "Logan is a con man."

  "I know you've never liked him; with what just happened, I guess I have to admit you might be right."

  "No, Julie, it isn't just one of my feelings. Zack checked him out, and Amethyst and I did some....well, we did a recon mission."

  "A what now?" Julie asked while Tyler looked at Gustavia with renewed admiration.

  "Well, we went to his office. Ammie talked to him; he gave her a spiel and tried to sell her on a condo that was going to be built here on this property."

  "Gustavia, he must have recognized you; you don't exactly blend into the crowd."

  "Well--we went incognito."

  A range of emotions played across Julie's face, first shock, then admiration, then a wide grin of appreciation.

  "Incognito?" she asked.

  "Yeah, we went to the thrift store and bought suits—you know, regular clothes—and Ammie found a wig that looked real. She even colored her eyebrows."

  An even bigger grin played across Julie's face.

  "Movie montage?"

  Gustavia beamed; it was going to be okay.

  "Well, maybe a little one."

  "Video footage? Please tell me there was video footage," Tyler chimed in.

  Gustavia cued up the image library and passed him her phone. No video, but there were several shots of both of them in their power suits. He handed the phone to Julie, who just shook her head then wearily rubbed a hand across her eyes.

  "Okay, so he had plans for the property. That makes him a bit sleazy, but does it actually make him a con man?"

  Gustavia sighed, "No, but since Logan Ellis isn't his real name, and Zack found two more aliases, and he was already selling condos built on your land, it doesn't look good."

  She went on, "I'm sorry I went behind your back, but Estelle visited me and told me we were both in danger."

  "You've seen Grams? And you didn't tell me?" Julie asked, hurt.

  "Not seen exactly, but she was there; she typed on my computer."

  It was a lot to take in, but Julie knew Gustavia had only been trying to help; and if she had contacted Zack, the situation was serious.

  "Serious enough to get Zack involved?"

  Since Gustavia had eclipsed anything Tyler could add from his research, he wisely kept quiet about his own findings. He did, however, ask "Who's Zack?"

  "He's Gustavia's brother—he is also a cop—and they don't have a good relationship."

  "Wait, I know him; Zack Roman, right
? He's a stand-up guy. Isn't his father a senator? So that would make Gustavia...." He trailed off.

  "Yep," she answered, "that makes me the senator's black sheep of a daughter. Now you know my deepest, darkest secret," she teased. "Reveal it at your peril." Her exaggerated scowl failed to be fierce or menacing.

  "Tyler is an investigative reporter," Julie informed Gustavia.

  "So, are you going to out me to the world? It's not like I'm in hiding or anything; I just don't associate with my family by mutual agreement," Gustavia explained to Tyler.

  "Your secret is safe with me," he said.

  Gustavia patted his hand gently.

  "It's no secret, really; I just try to stay out of the limelight when it comes to the circumstances of my birth. Zack is a good person. Everyone in my family is a good person, as long as they are dealing with normal. I don't qualify for normal so they disapprove."

  Empathy flooded Tyler's face as he took Gustavia's hand and spoke from his heart.

  "They gave you a hard time; that's easy to see. But if your family doesn't see how special you are, they don't deserve you. I can tell you have family in Julie."

  Gustavia bowed her head at his simple acceptance, then lifted her face with its shining smile and kissed him on both cheeks. The moment was over, and it was time to make some decisions.

  "Yes, Julie is my family. I'm going to move in here for a while to make sure she stays safe."

  "I was thinking of doing the same thing myself; maybe we could trade off," Tyler answered.

  Julie looked from one of them to another, not sure whether to be thankful or exasperated and settled finally on a mix of the two. She opened her mouth to protest but the words died before they could pass her lips. She was looking at identical attitudes of defiance: two sets of crossed arms, two heads slightly tilted, and two pairs of eyes dead set and just daring her to argue. Clearly, she might as well give in with some grace and dignity because nothing she could say would deter these two from their decision.