“A dark force? I remember your mother talking about a shadow. She said she could see it even on the sunniest day. It blocked things sometimes.”
“My mother saw it too? What did she do?” Alexis holds her breath and hangs on to hope.
Diaz doesn’t hesitate. “She practiced the white light. She told me it was there when she closed her eyes, just a minute pinprick of a light. She spent hours with her eyes closed, looking into the darkness and opening up that tiny spark of light.”
Alexis sighs. “Easy. Just believe in myself and generate the purest force out of total darkness.”
He laughs aloud. “Nothing to it.”
They sit for a moment, enjoying the sparkle of sunlight on the fountain’s bubbling water. Alexis can feel Diaz’s steady belief, his unwavering faith in her mother. Somehow she knows if she concentrates on that feeling, the white light will appear.
“Thanks for visiting, Ted, it means a lot to me.”
“Please, anytime. I have to go back to work soon but this has been a wonderful break.”
As they get up, Alexis remembers the other reason she’d chosen to drive all the way out to St. James Care Facility. “You wouldn’t happen to remember a patient named Bella. Do you?”
He shakes his head, “I’m not sure.”
“She’s younger than me: blonde, blue eyes, slender. She might have hung around my mother.”
His eyes clear. “Actually, I do remember a Bella. Kind of a nasty past, she was in here from foster care. Why?”
“I met her not too long ago and she’s claiming to know my mother. But there are some … ah … discrepancies in things she says.”
Diaz purses his lips. “I remember she kept her distance from the truth. There were other strange things too. In her room, in the dining hall, during group, light bulbs would burst. Our doctor’s best theory was she was throwing rocks as a way to distract everyone from things she didn’t want to discuss but that didn’t really hold up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean this is a secure facility. There are metal baskets around most of the lights so patients cannot harm themselves. Still, a lot of light bulbs seemed to shatter around her.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
“HOW FUNNY, GEORGE JUST CALLED wondering if you were here.” Alice Manetti swings her door wide open and welcomes Alexis inside.
“Let me guess, he asked you about poltergeists.”
Alice laughs. “Yes, though I reminded him that all I did was mention the possibility. Right before you concluded there was something more.”
Alexis feels relief. “I’m so glad you remember. I was starting to think that everyone’s poltergeist theory was the only explanation.”
“Yes, exactly. Though our George is not too open to other theories at the moment. He seems to be under the influence of someone.”
“The pretty blonde from the séance. Bella.”
Alice smiles and chews on the corner of her mouth. “Ah, yes, of course. Strange energy there.”
Alexis raises an eyebrow. “From her or from her apartment?”
“Please, come in, sit down. This conversation needs tea!” Alice bustles off to make the tea, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll be right back. You can practice your white light.”
Shaking her head at the unsurprising coincidences that always crop up in conversation with Alice, Alexis settles down on a pile of floor cushions and closes her eyes. Practicing a Yoga technique Nurse Diaz just showed her, she rubs her palms together before pressing them over her eyes. The warmth of the friction encompasses her and in the darkness she looks for the spark of white light.
When it finally appears, minute in the shadows, Alexis focuses all her energy on it. She strains to look closer, watching it grow larger as if she was approaching a single candle flame in a cavernous room.
“A distant star, a single light bulb, a paper lantern, a spotlight, the large sweep of a lighthouse; just keep moving closer,” Alice says quietly as she returns with two cups.
It sinks like a white stone down into muddy water as Alexis opens her eyes and sighs, “Why is it never as easy as it sounds?”
“Because then you wouldn’t have to put your heart in it.”
Alexis drops a white sugar cube into her tea. “Did George show you the footage?”
“Of you clenching your fist and breaking a table in half without touching it?”
She groans. “Yes, that one.”
Alice sits down. “I pointed out to George that his theory is more about an individual with telekinetic powers than a poltergeist. Poltergeists are chaotic spirits, they do not do focused bidding.”
“So you think I have telekinetic powers?”
“Do you?” Alice gives Alexis a look out of the corner of her eye. “Because that seems like something you would know, doesn’t it?”
“I do not have telekinetic powers.” Alexis feels better for saying it aloud so definitively.
“And this disturbance at Blackvine Manor is not acting like a poltergeist. So, our friend George has no theory, not even the one his pretty friend gave him. He left quite upset.”
Alexis sips at her tea thoughtfully. “So what happened in the video?”
“George asked that too, so we looked at it again. Four people in a room: George does not have telekinetic powers or the emotional upset that would attract a poltergeist. Our handsome yet skeptical Maxwell may have the emotions, on your behalf, but he is easy to rule out. That leaves you and George’s blonde.”
“Bella.”
“Yes. George got upset when I pointed out how little he knew about her.” Alice shakes her head. “I didn’t mean to disillusion him but he deserves better than someone who does not stand up under scrutiny.”
Alexis puts down her cup. “What do you know about people with telekinetic powers?”
Alice thinks for a moment. “I know most start off not knowing what they can do. It comes out during emotional spikes. Small things at first, you know, easy to break.”
“Like light bulbs?”
“Sure. What I don’t know is why someone would want to pretend her powers are really the work of a poltergeist, and then blame even the poltergeist on someone else.” Alice frowns.
Alexis gapes. “To distract us. Can someone with telekinetic powers block spirits from appearing?”
Alice nods, following her train of thought. “She uses her abilities to move shadows across the spirits, so you can’t see them. What doesn’t she want you to know?”
“About the jewels. She doesn’t want me to know where Collin Fenton hid the jewels.”
Both women jump when Alexis’ phone rings, and seeing the caller I.D. she picks up, already saying, “Let me guess, her last name is Fenton.”
Nurse Diaz stammers. “How … how did you know? She lied on her intake papers but our staff dug deeper and found her real name. Bella Fenton.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
GEORGE IS SITTING IN THE first straight-backed chair in Maxwell’s small office when Alexis walks through the front doors of Blackvine Manor.
“I’d be mad, if I were you.”
Alexis stops in the hallway and backtracks to the office door marked ‘Superintendent’. She pauses in the door long enough for George to clear his throat and push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“I’m not mad, George. We’re friends.”
“Well, I’m mad at me. Here I’m supposed to be a paranormal investigator and I mishandle my first real case. I jumped to conclusions; that’s the worst mistake a ghost-hunter can make.”
She sits down in the identical chair next to him. “So you don’t think I have telekinetic powers?”
George smiles. “We’re friends. You would have told me.”
“Well, friend, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure,” he says, wiping his damp palms on his jeans. “What do you need me to do?”
“Organize a séance.”
Maxwell groans from the doorway, “Please tell m
e there’s another way.”
Alexis grins. “Not unless you can talk to ghosts. We need to have a word with our jewel thief.”
George scratches at his wild hair. “What does he have to do with all of this?”
“Just set up the courtyard, please. And invite everyone.”
He swallows, awkward. “Even Bella?”
“Yes, please. I promise I won’t fight with her.”
When George leaves, Maxwell catches her in a tight hug. “I’m glad you two made up. He really loves you.”
“Just him?” Alexis tips her head and looks up at Maxwell.
He grins down at her. “Let’s just say I know the feeling. Do you have plans tonight?”
“You mean after we clear all the spirits from your building?”
Maxwell laughs and kisses her. “Just tell me I can be the one to take you home.”
She kisses him back. “I am home.”
“Really?” Bella says as soon as she joins everyone near the old fountain. “Another séance? I guess it’s better outside where no furniture can fall and crush someone.”
She pointedly eyes the old tree and its heavy branches spreading out above them. George tries to edge away from her but she clutches his hand and smiles sweetly.
Maxwell clears his throat. “I know it’s usually bad form to tell stories before a séance, but I thought before we reach out to the particular spirit we think might be at the root of all the strange happenings lately, I should tell a local legend.
“A local man made all the headlines a long time ago and became a sort of Robin Hood. He stole from all the richest people, the city’s highest class citizens, and his name was Collin Fenton.”
Mrs. DuBois nods. “I remember that name. He always stole the jewelry during charity events. Everyone loved the irony he pointed out of wearing millions in diamonds while writing small checks for those in need.”
Maxwell nods. “For a long time the thief was anonymous and the legend grew, until the chief of police, my grandfather Otto Charles, found evidence tying the robberies to Collin Fenton.”
George pans his camera around the circle, catching Bella with a clenched jaw. She breaks into a bright smile and tosses her hair. “What does this have to do with the ghosts around here?”
“Well, Collin Fenton has ties to Blackvine Manor. Alexis uncovered the connection through one of her visions.”
Bella snorts. “Visions are not evidence.”
“Actually,” George tells her, “Alexis saw that Collin was wearing a school pin and with that she was able to confirm that he and Delia Charles went to Belmont Academy, back when she was Delia Maxwell.”
Doug coughs. “So this Collin Fenton has been haunting Blackvine Manor too? I guess that makes sense. A shadow figure was rifling through my apartment like a thief.”
“Exactly,” Alexis breaks in, “and it was right around that time that these strange shadows started blotting out the spirits.”
“Why?” Mrs. DuBois asks.
“To stop Collin Fenton from showing me the truth,” Alexis tells her.
“Oh, you mean showing you where the jewels were hidden! That’s what I remember the most. Everyone became treasure hunters. Except the fun ended when Delia Charles went missing.” Mrs. DuBois pats Maxwell on the arm.
Maxwell takes her hand on one side and Alexis’ hand on the other, saying, “So tonight we all need to concentrate on Collin Fenton. With everyone focused on the same spirit, he should be able to appear to Alexis without being overtaken by a shadow.”
Bella scoffs. “And why are we supposed to believe anything Alexis says?”
George speaks up. “Because Alexis has helped everyone here and she has no reason to lie to us.”
There is silence while everyone closes their eyes and concentrates on what they know of Collin Fenton. Bella scowls at the circle, meeting Alexis’ eyes with a vicious stare. Alexis calmly meets her glare until a figure distracts her.
“He’s here.”
“Like before? The same scene?” George asks her.
“No, he’s standing behind Bella.”
Bella looks over her shoulder and shakes her head. “Sorry, honey, nothing there.”
Alexis ignores her. “He says he has two regrets. He never thought Delia would come to any harm. Everyone knew how much Otto loved her and Collin thought the public would love hearing how the police chief’s wife unwittingly helped him. Otto’s fit of rage shocked him and he is eternally sorry he could not save his friend.”
Bella looks at Maxwell. “You know psychics are just frauds that tell people what they want to hear, right?”
“His second regret is about you, Bella.” Alexis tells her softly. “He says he never should have traded his future with you for a burlap sack of jewels.”
“What are you talking about?”
Alexis continues, “After your mother died, he was supposed to raise you. Instead he went to jail and you went into foster care.”
Bella sneers at her. “Oh, I see. You got smart and went to St. James. I should have given them more credit, I guess.”
“Wait,” Doug asks, “you’re Bella Fenton?”
She yanks her hands free of the circle. “This is ridiculous!”
“Bella, he’s trying to apologize. Your grandfather loved you.”
Bella spins back to Alexis, a look of hatred in her eyes. “Liar!”
The window above Bella’s head shatters and glass cascades down into the empty fountain.
“See! She’s trying to hurt me with her poltergeist or demon or whatever it is.” Bella looks to George for support.
Maxwell helps Mrs. DuBois over to Doug who takes her inside. “Seriously, Bella? Your little trick isn’t working anymore.”
She drops the façade. “So, what, is my grandfather telling her where the jewels are?”
“Actually”—Maxwell leans down under the bench—“they’re right here.”
Bella’s eyes go black with anger. “I knew your mother took them.”
Alexis tries to calm her down. “Your grandfather wants you to hand them in. There’s a reward.”
“For a tenth of what they’re worth? Nice try, charlatan.” Bella lifts her hands and the burlap sack is torn out of Maxwell’s grip. Just as the heavy bag swings towards Alexis, George knocks Bella’s hands down.
“You know the card you drew him, the one with the flower? He kept that by him every day. He’s trying to say he’s sorry.”
Bella breaks away from George, the heaviest limb of the tree smashing down on top of the fountain. When everyone recovers, they realize Bella is gone with the stolen jewels.
Epilogue
THE GARDEN OF BLACKVINE MANOR Apartments is in full bloom. The sunlight pours down on a new fountain and an archway of white roses. George comes to stand next to Maxwell as the rest of the guests assemble.
“Bella did us a favor, really, the courtyard has never looked so good.”
George smiles at Maxwell’s nervous banter. Then their smiles turn to wide grins as Alexis comes around the corner of the brick building. Her wedding gown shimmers in the sunlight and her smile glows even brighter. And her friends know the spirits are smiling back at her.
About the Author
Wendy Meadows is an emerging author of cozy mysteries. She lives in “The Granite State” with her husband, two sons, two cats and lovable Labradoodle.
When she isn’t working on her stories she likes to tend to her flower garden, relax with adult coloring and play video games with her family.
Get in touch with Wendy:
@wmeadowscozy
AuthorWendyMeadows
www.WendyMeadows.com
[email protected]
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Blackvine Manor Mystery Page 17