Rings On Her Fingers (Psychic Seasons

by ReGina Welling

  He heard her mumble something that sounded like I freaking hate wild goose and was glad that his back was turned so that she couldn't see him grinning like an idiot. Concentrating on Julius’ rooms first, he called up his memory of the bedroom and compared it to the dimensions on the plans. They seemed to add up. Same thing for the living area and connected bathroom. There was nothing anywhere in the plans to indicate that there might be a hidden passageway so, next, he looked at the library. Nothing stood out there, either. It looked like one more dead end.

  Rejoining Julie, he picked up the stack of papers dated five years before Julius' death, and it occurred to him that he should make a timeline. He went and retrieved a notebook from his computer bag and began to draw one out.

  "Julie, do you have even a ballpark idea how much money Julius made from the sale of his invention? It might help us narrow down the possibilities."

  "No, not really; Grams believed he'd squandered it all away. According to the plaque in the museum, he invested heavily in those contraptions but with almost no return. Royalties from the second invention that he sold still come in from time to time. There was a trust set up to pay the taxes. Until he told me himself, I wouldn't have thought he had anything to stash away except for the notes and drawings of his inventions; and, to be honest, none of us ever cared to look for those."

  "Could they be valuable?"

  "I doubt it."

  They'd already learned from the boxes of paperwork that Julius hadn't lived what anyone would consider an extravagant lifestyle. He'd made a few changes to the house and spent a fair amount to commission those four stained-glass windows, but the bulk of his spending had been on his workshop and materials to use there. If he'd left some kind of legacy for his family—and Julie had to believe that he wouldn't have remained here in spirit form if he hadn't—it had been done on the quiet.

  "Aside from the family pieces that we think he still had, Kat said stocks or bonds would have been registered and found during probate, which leaves precious metals, gems or art. Maybe rare coins or stamps. All of these would leave a paper trail of some kind. If he paid cash for them and hid the receipts along with the valuables...well...we'd be in the situation we find ourselves in right now. There's another problem if he converted money to gold. In 1933 the gold reform act made it illegal for the average American citizen to own more than a small amount. If he had any gold then, he'd have had to turn it in unless it was in the form of coins already recognized as collectible which were exempted."

  Rubbing a hand across her forehead, Julie appreciated the depth of his knowledge. "It's all speculation at this point. This whole thing is ridiculous. I keep wondering why he would go to the trouble of hiding something from his own family. I know he and my grandfather didn't get along, but that doesn't seem like a good reason to keep his own wife from living comfortably."

  "Do you know anything about their relationship?"

  "Not a lot; Grams said Mary Lou was a simple woman who would rather spend time in her flower beds than anywhere else. She was the one who maintained the formal garden and insisted the space remain ornamental while teaching the Weeping Widows the finer points of growing vegetables in other parts of the property. Grams also said she would have been easily influenced by Edward; she was devoted to her son."

  "So, if she had known where to find the valuables, she would probably have turned everything over to him. That seems a good reason why Julius was so secretive. What about your Grams and Edward's relationship? Did she ever talk about him?"

  Julie sighed, "I think it was complicated. They were only married a short time before he went to war. She never said anything negative about him or about her marriage, but I always got the impression there was more than just the sadness of losing him."

  She sat quietly for a few moments, lost in the memories of her grandmother and her own losses before pulling her attention back to the present.

  "None of this helps us figure out where to look. You didn't see anything in the plans?"

  "No," Tyler answered, "but that doesn't mean anything; a coffee can full of gold coins or a stamp collection wouldn't take up much space at all. They could be sealed up in a wall, or in the false bottom of a cabinet."

  "And here I was hoping we might find a secret passage that opened by poking a hidden button in the fireplace trim or something." Julie smiled though she was feeling a bit trapped. Whatever was hidden needed to be found, if only to gain some peace for her great-grandfather; but the search seemed to have stalled.

  "C'mon," Julie led Tyler outside, "let's get outside, take a walk, get some fresh air, and give this thing a rest for an hour."

  Holding hands, they strolled through the formal gardens and followed a well-worn path into the forest. This was one of Julie's favorite places to hike; she enjoyed the sounds here in the woods: the rustling of the trees as the wind brushed their branches, the birdsong that celebrated life. As they walked, they talked about anything except treasure or ghostly visitors. Julie learned Tyler's parents lived an hour away, and he had two brothers and a sister. She envied him a bit for growing up in a larger family.

  Since he knew all the sordid details of her breakup, she felt entitled to ask about his romantic past. It turned out he'd had one serious relationship that struggled, then finally couldn't survive the amount of travel he did for his job. After four years of hotel living, he admitted to being tired of the lifestyle; but Julie sensed there was more to the story, and he wasn't ready to talk about it.

  When he pulled her into his arms, her heart skipped a beat then began to race as his mouth covered hers. He tasted of summer and sunlight, but with an edge of fire underneath; and all she wanted to do was to get closer. And closer still. Leaves rustled in the light breeze that whispered across heated skin as his hands crept under the edge of her tank, sliding it up as he caressed her back, gently soothing the taut muscles. When his mouth left hers and he laid a trail of kisses down her neck, she tilted her head back to offer him better access. Every thought flew out of her head except for the need to touch his skin.

  She ran like fine wine through his veins, intoxicating, drugging his senses until there was nothing left but his need to possess her, to bring her pleasure. This was not the time or the place, so he gently eased back even though he wanted nothing more than to pull her down to lie with him on the soft forest floor. Her soft moan of protest nearly undid him; but the last thing he wanted was to be her rebound relationship, so there was no way he was going to rush this. "Not here, not now," he whispered. "But soon."

  Julie couldn't speak; she could hardly breathe. She knew it wasn't fair to compare them, but Logan had never made her feel like this. Thank God she'd found out about him in time. This need was so much deeper and truer than anything she'd ever felt before. What was she thinking? Only a matter of days she'd known him and she already thought she was falling for Tyler. It was crazy, but she didn't want to resist; she wanted to plunge headlong into whatever might come. She wanted to throw caution to the wind, exactly as Grams had suggested.

  Chapter 23

  Tyler answered the door when Gustavia arrived, and one look at her caused his eyebrows to raise in surprise. She was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and, other than two or three small crystals woven into her braids, she wore no jewelry. It was like seeing Clark Kent when you expected Superman.

  “Hey, what’s with the normal-wear?” he asked.

  Gustavia looked behind him to see if Julie was within earshot then pulled him outside for a whispered conference. “I’m going to set up some booby traps in case that boob shows up here; it’s easier to climb stepladders in jeans than in skirts.”

  With a twinkle in his eyes, Tyler listened as she told him her plan. It seemed she’d gotten the idea from the Home Alone movies. She wasn’t sure if Julie would approve, but intended to go ahead either way; and she had another surprise coming that might not be welcome.

  Back inside, Tyler gave Julie a quick goodbye kiss that had Gustavia nearly dancing in del
ight. This was the kind of man her friend should be with, not that arrogant goon, Logan. The minute he was gone, she grabbed the grinning Julie in a fierce hug. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “You know what? So am I. It just feels right; he feels right.”

  Gustavia brewed them a pot of herbal tea before settling on the couch and pressing Julie for information on Tyler.

  “I had a reading with Kat and she said there would be a love triangle, but we weren’t sure if it meant you or me. I’m texting Ammie to pick her up on the way here; you need the reading you never got.

  “Amethyst is coming over? How did that happen?”

  “She’s bringing you a present.” Gustavia bent her head to quickly type off a text, then hit send.

  Julie was suspicious, her friend was hiding something. She had a tell. It wasn’t something that happened often because Gustavia rarely prevaricated. It made her a lousy poker player. But when she began rubbing the material at the hem of her t-shirt between her fingers, Julie knew. Between her clothing choices and the determined look on her face, Julie didn’t even bother to ask. Whatever was happening was already a done deal, so why waste the time? Besides, there was something else going on, Julie could tell. Under the surface, her friend was sad, the kind of sad that usually came after being around her family.

  “Which one of them was it?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I know that look; you’ve heard from one of your family members. Zack, I’d imagine, since I can see a little mad to go along with the sad.”

  “He showed up at my place last night.”

  “Well, that’s new and I’m sorry, since it probably had to do with Logan. That makes it my fault.”

  “It was weird. It felt like he was trying—and we didn’t have a blowout or anything—but it still didn’t end on a great note. He said he’d bought my books, even sounded like he was proud of me, then turned around and asked me if I’d had Grams’ paintings appraised because they could be worth money. Monetary value is not always the most important thing.”

  "I understand, but it sounds like he meant well. I've thought if I couldn't find another way, I might sell one her paintings to pay for the new windows."

  "No, I get that; and I know what it would mean for you to have to part with one. I feel the same way, and that's what he didn't understand. How do you explain to someone who has always had love and acceptance from their parents what it feels like to be on the outside looking in? Grams meant the world to me; she was the only real mother I've ever known. If those paintings were worth millions, it wouldn't matter to me." Tears filled Gustavia's eyes, but she blinked them back and made an effort to change the subject before things got even more maudlin than they already were. "Speaking of Grams and millions, any progress?"

  "No, not even the tiniest bit." Julie ran a hand across her forehead as though trying to wipe away a headache, the kind caused by frustration. "We spent a lot of time speculating, but nothing concrete. I think we are just missing something obvious. I hate to keep repeating it, but I have this pesky feeling I should know exactly what the magic garden is, that I've seen it written somewhere; but whenever I get close, it just keeps slipping away."

  Gustavia nodded her understanding, and changing the subject, made small talk until the doorbell chimed. She hurried ahead of Julie to open the door for Amethyst and Kat. She'd barely finished turning the knob when the door was forcefully pushed open and a blur of tawny fur shot past her heading straight for Julie. Gustavia turned just in time to see her friend borne to the floor by 90 pounds of excited dog. Ammie rushed in, broken leash in hand, followed more sedately by Kat swinging her cane and being led by the sounds the dog was making.

  "What is this? A Wookie?" Julie demanded as the dog voiced something halfway between a growl and howl, then ran its rather large tongue across her face. "Get off me, you moose." She pushed the dog aside so she could sit up. The boxer danced away—but only for a moment—then returned to try and climb into her lap while staring adoringly into Julie's eyes. Amethyst reached out a hand to help Julie up off the floor. "This is Lola. We thought you could use some extra protection, so I borrowed her from a friend who runs a shelter. She's a sweet dog; she's just young and tends to be a bit, well, exuberant."

  "I can see that," was the dry reply. "Did it occur to any of you to ask me first?"

  Gustavia grinned, "It occurred to us you might say no, so we decided not to bother." As always, Gustavia was of the opinion it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission. "Lola needs a temporary home; you need someone to help guard the house. It seemed like a good match. She's just on loan for a few weeks, unless you get attached and want to keep her." She grinned at Julie's narrowed-eyed scowl.

  Resisting Lola, though, was a nearly impossible task; her warm brown eyes could melt an iceberg. When she left Julie's side to gently nudge against Kat's leg, as though instinctively knowing she needed to proceed carefully around this particular human, Julie was hooked. "Okay, she can stay."

  Ammie exchanged a triumphant grin with Gustavia, and the two of them went back to the car to carry in Lola's things. And, for a dog, she had an unexpected amount of baggage: a large bed, water and food bowls, several toys, some treats and a huge bag of kibble were all piled by the door.

  While Julie was getting the rundown from Ammie on Lola's current routine, Gustavia quietly excused herself to begin putting her plan for a second line of defense into action. Even though she knew the house inside and out, she had never assessed its potential for breaking and entering until now. Even to her untrained eye, the old windows—though charming in style—were easily breached, and the back door lock system would only deter the honest. If she was sure it wouldn't start an epic fight, she'd have already called an alarm company and a locksmith and paid for the installations herself. She’d already had this discussion with Julie and been summarily shut down. So, she thought, booby traps will have to do.

  She was so absorbed with putting her plan into action that Julius had to clear his ghostly throat several times before she heard him. To her credit, she took his presence in stride by greeting him with a big smile, once he'd gotten her attention. He had been watching her with avid curiosity, then discerning her goal, had decided to help.

  "You any good with a hammer?" he asked.

  Gustavia grinned. Over the last few years she had regularly taken part in building homes through Habitat for Humanity. That experience helped make her comfortable with a variety of hand and power tools. She'd even dragged Julie along a few times. What they had learned had helped the two of them do some of the more minor repairs to Hayward House, and even to build a potting shed in Gustavia's back yard from some reclaimed materials. They had delayed the need for a whole new roof for another year or so, and had repaired the worst of the old windows; but it was time for new and that was a significant expense. For right now, the concern was how easily Logan could jack one of these relics open.

  Julius explained to her that since these were single hung windows, it would be simple to block them closed by wedging slats of wood into the opening above the bottom window. With the windows held closed, Logan would have to break the glass to gain entry, thereby reducing the stealth factor.

  "What do you think about leaving one window unblocked and setting up a trap for him?"

  "I think you have a devious mind, gypsy girl," Julius answered with an appraising look, "You remind me a bit of Estelle."

  Flattered, Gustavia said, "I can't think of a better compliment than that; Estelle was one of my heroes. She had guts."

  "That she did and still does. We have had some ideas that fit in perfectly with your own. Now listen..." and he outlined a plan that made Gustavia do her favorite victory dance. Just let that moron try to break in here; he would get what was coming to him and then some.

  With Julius directing her, it didn't take Gustavia long to cut some slats that she could staple into place and secure the downstairs windows. Next he showed her how rig the rickety lock on the bac
k door so Logan would not be able to jimmy it open. Then Julius sent her out to his workshop where she found the bits and pieces she needed to set up a trip wire on the one unsecured window sill; any attempt to gain entry would lift the latch that opened the door leading to the kitchen and let Lola into the room.

  Finally, with a wicked grin on her face, Gustavia went to her car, grabbed a plastic bag and, as Julius watched, layered the section of the floor in front of the window with squeaky toys. If there was one thing Lola could not resist, it was the sound of a squeaky toy; one squawk would bring her running and barking from just about anywhere in the house. Julius would also be listening; if Logan managed to get inside, he was going to get the surprise of his life. The only thing Gustavia regretted was she didn't have time to set up a camera, because she knew this could easily turn into a video-worthy moment.

  Satisfied with her efforts, and still armed with the slats and staple gun, Gustavia made her way back into the house where she ignored both Julie's questioning look and her protests, and secured each of the downstairs windows then led the rest of the group out the back of the kitchen to show them her handiwork.

  Chapter 24

  Downing his umpteenth cup of coffee for the day, Zack ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Logan was a step ahead of him, had been from the start. Still, there were a few more lines to tug on, and the evidence was beginning to pile up. He had left a trail—maybe it wasn’t a mile wide, but it was there—and Zack could see it becoming clearer and clearer. He had enough to put Logan away, but his gut told him there was more to find.