by Nan Sampson
Ellie groaned. “Thank heaven for that!”
“Aw, I bet you were a cute little thing,” Charlie teased.
Patti was bubbling over as she gave Josh a hug. “Can you believe he’s here? It’s been months since we’ve seen him. Too busy to come and visit his folks now that he’s a big star.”
“Mom, you know that’s not true. We’ve just been so busy.”
“Well, you’re coming home for Christmas this year, no ifs ands or buts. You’ve got plenty of time to ask for the days off.” She glanced around, looking for something or someone. “Hopefully this year you’ll be coming alone, if I have anything to say about it.” Ellie knew she was talking about Link.
Someone snaked an arm around Josh’s waist, surprising not only Ellie, but Josh as well. It was Sierra, and her gesture smacked of possessiveness. “There you are. You ran off.”
Elie watched as Petti stiffened and Josh looked like he wanted to run even farther. Yet, he didn’t pull away, which made Ellie a little sick. Had Josh actually agreed to Link’s plan? Damn it, she needed to put a stop to that.
Ellie nodded to Sierra, tried to pick up the previous conversational thread. “So where is Mr. Fairweather?”
Josh gave a sour smile, but his tone was light. “Oh, he’ll be down. He likes to make an entrance. Last I saw, he was on the phone with his accountant.”
Charlie pounced on the opening. “Link has an accountant? Maybe I’m way off base, but I didn’t think there was a lot of money to be made in your line of work. Not for profits pay abysmally, or at least they used to.”
Looking a bit like a trapped animal, Josh ran his fingers through his hair. “Oh, they still do. I think… I think Link had money from his family.”
Patti gave her son a quizzical look. “Really? Must be from his father’s side then. The Muellers are poor as church mice. Always have been.”
Ellie watched Josh squirm. He had a hard time lying to his mother, and it showed on his face. She came to his rescue, as movement at the doorway to the dining room caught her eye. “And speak of the devil, here he comes now.”
Link sailed into the dining room, his suede jacket flapping. He looked a bit like a young professor in his turtle neck and jeans, and she could see a lapel pin that proudly proclaimed his membership in The Whole Earth Society. Were those Earth shoes he had on?
He paused for just a moment at the Odious Margaret’s table, leaned down and said something to her that made her smile slyly, then hurried over to the crowd. “I’m so sorry to be late! I got caught up in my presentation for tomorrow. Chloe, my dear, how about a little Pernod?”
Chloe nodded, although Ellie noticed that her smile dimmed a bit. It certainly wasn’t as brilliant as the one she shot at Charlie as she passed. Clearly Link hadn’t impressed Seth and Arabella’s niece, and Ellie gave her big points for that.
Arabella appeared through the swinging doors and cleared her throat, whereby everyone listened up.
Dressed in a lovely russet sweater and grey wool slacks, she’d put her honey blond-gray hair up in a chignon that complimented her heart shaped face. “We’re so happy you could all join us here tonight for our little welcome home celebration for Josh. Chloe and I have planned what we think will be an outstanding feast for you, and if there are no objections, we’ll start serving the first course in a couple of minutes. So if everyone would please—“
There was a commotion at the doorway to the dining room. All heads turned, but not before Ellie caught a glimpse of Arabella putting a hand to her mouth.
A woman stood there, breathing heavily as though she’d run all the way up the hill to the inn. She wore a drab, brown car coat, and an ugly purple hat was stuck on top of a mop of salt and pepper hair that stuck out, like straw from a scarecrow. There was a wild look in her eyes.
“You!” she shrieked. She jabbed an arthritic finger at Link, who looked genuinely surprised.
The woman stepped into the dining, advancing slowly on Link. “You horrible, evil man.”
Seth moved quickly to stand between Link and the woman. “Alphie. What a pleasant surprise.”
“Don’t you get in my way, Seth Kemp. I mean to have my say.”
“Now, Alphie, let’s not cause a scene. You—“
The frail looking woman pushed past Seth as though he were a floor lamp. “Your mother should be ashamed of you.” She pulled a sheaf of papers out of her coat pocket and shook them in Link’s face. “How could you do this and to your own family?”
“Auntie Alphie, I hardly think this is the time or the place to have this discussion.” He backed up, as the woman poked him the chest with a knobby finger.
“I can’t think of a better one. Everyone in this town thinks you’re some kind of hero, but I know you’re just vile, greedy sinner.” She struck Link across the face with the papers. “If you think I’m going to sign this, you’re out of your mind.”
A hard look glinted in Link’s eyes. “Actually, Alphie, I’m not asking you to sign them. Mother has already signed them, and since she’s the one who actually owns the property, your signature is superfluous. I merely had the documents delivered to you as a courtesy. To give you time to make other arrangements.”
Ellie wasn’t sure what the documents were, but she could make an educated guess. Alphie Mueller didn’t live in Horizon – she had a house in the neighboring town of Rockton. But the old Mueller land was on the outskirts of Horizon, and while it had been vacant since Pastor Mueller had died a few years before Ellie arrived in town, it had never, as far as Ellie knew, been put up for sale. Clearly Link had just sold it – and looking at the Cheshire Cat grin on Margaret Roesch’s face, Ellie had a pretty good idea to whom.
Alphie’s face contorted in rage. “You devil-worshiping bastard. There will be a special place reserved for you in Hell.”
Link’s face was placid. “Now, now, Auntie Alphie, what was it Grandfather always said? People who live in glass houses… shouldn’t cast aspersions on those who were born to not be wicked sinners? Or did I get that wrong? You were ever so much closer to Grandfather than the rest of us. I know he spent a great deal of time schooling you late at night in your room…”
Alphie’s face reddened even more. So much so that Ellie worried she might have a stroke. Her fists clenched at her side and her body grew as rigid as one of the oak planks that made up the table. “Why you… you… you evil son of a whore. How dare you, of all people, speak of my father that way! You’ll pay for this, Lincoln John Fairweather. The arm of the Lord is swift and strong and he will smite you down, as sure as you stand there.”
She spun around, tears brimming in her eyes, and fled from the dining room.
A stunned silence prevailed in her wake. Ever the consummate hostess, Arabella was the first to break the tableau. “Well. Let me just go check on dinner. Please, everyone, if you’d take your seats…” Her voice trailed off, and she squeezed her hands together before bustling off to the kitchen.
The rest of the evening, while not exactly somber, suffered. The incident seemed to suck any and all joy out of the affair. Sierra spent dinner finding reasons to touch Josh, putting her hand over his, letting her fingers stray to the back of his neck, and each time she did so, he looked like he wanted to bolt. Twice she thought he was about ready to stand, but he’d look at Link and Link would smile and Josh would remain seated.
It drove Ellie crazy. To ease the tension, she tried to help Patti revive the conversation, but by the time dessert rolled around, the strain was even getting to Charlie. The only one who seemed unaffected was, naturally, Link, who chattered on and on about himself and his plans until Ellie was ready to stuff a dinner roll in his mouth just to get him to shut up.
The party ended early, despite Link’s invitation to buy everyone a night cap. Josh looked miserable as Ellie and Charlie bid him goodnight, having shaken off Sierra as he escorted them out of the dining room.
They stood in the lobby for a moment, after everyone but Patti and Earl had
gone.
“I’m cursed. This evening was supposed to turn out so differently.”
“It was a lovely dinner. Thank you for including us.”
He sighed. “Thanks for coming. You’ll… you’ll look after mom and dad, won’t you?”
“Of course. Don’t worry. Things will work out, somehow. You leave in the morning?”
“God willing and the river don’t rise,” he quipped. “I think I’m actually looking forward to getting to the symposium. How much worse could speaking in front of a thousand people be, compared to this?”
She patted his arm. “You’ll do great. Keep in touch, okay? Email me once in a while.”
“I will. I promise.”
She wanted to say something else. She wanted to tell him he didn’t have to do what Link wanted. Then she remembered what Per had said, about people having to find their own way, make their own decisions. She’d had to do the same, even when many of her old city friends had thought she was crazy moving up here the way she did. So she bit her tongue.
They took their leave then, and made their way carefully home. Thankfully there were no more close encounters with deer.
It was odd having Charlie there at night. She went about her normal routine, straightening up, putting away dishes, letting Erik out the last time before bed, with Charlie following along behind her trying to help. Finally, she sent him up to the loft, needing a little space, so she could do her nightly meditation.
She settled down in front of her small corner altar, lit the tea light candle and after a number of breaths, slipped down into a light meditative state. She floated, drifted, letting go of everything, even the awareness of Charlie’s strong, highly-charged energy.
A sudden drop in temperature brought her out of it and as she opened her eyes, she heard a horrific, inhuman howl. Her eyes flew open just as embers from the fire blew up and out, scattering across the rug. Erik jumped off the couch, barking and Charlie scrambled down the ladder, even as the howl reverberated through the cabin. A presence swirled around her, familiar but at the moment unrecognizable. Whoever it was radiated anger and frustration and a phrase entered her mind as though someone had screamed it: Fucking ingrate!
Just as quickly as it had manifested, the presence was gone, and the howl faded away.
Charlie stomped on the embers that had landed on the fireplace rug and Erik trotted over to her and started licking her face and whining.
Ellie stood, still trying to figure out just who had visited. It wasn’t the malevolent energy she’d experienced before. This was just a plain old spirit, and from the spirit’s reaction, probably someone who had just passed and wasn’t happy about it. Artie Cullen, the man who had owned the property her coffee shop now occupied, had done much the same thing when he’d been killed.
Just who had died now was anybody’s guess, but Ellie was sick and tired of every shade in the county popping in to exclaim their displeasure at having to cross the veil. She grabbed her smudge stick and began cleansing her space, while Charlie simply stared.
When she was finished, she sat down next to him on the couch.
“You’re bristling, McCallum.”
“Damn right, Gooden. What the hell was that?”
“A spirit. It happens sometimes.”
“Like that night at Kate’s. With Lacey.”
“Yeah. Only I’m not sure who this was. His energy was familiar, but not immediately identifiable. All I really got was his parting shot to the world.”
“And that was?”
“He called someone, likely not me, a ‘fucking ingrate’.”
“You said ‘he’.” Charlie had slipped into investigator mode. Probably a good thing, as it was helping the grating, freaked-out, spikey energy he’d been putting out to fade.
“I did. Yeah, definitely a male energy. Young too.”
“If you slip back into a trance, do you think you could connect again?”
She smiled. “Maybe, maybe not. But why would I?”
“Aren’t you curious why he visited you?”
She shrugged. “Not overly. I get random visitations occasionally. Harmony Ravenstarr—“ She sighed as he rolled his eyes at the name. “Harmony runs the local metaphysical shop and she says that once you tap into your medium abilities, spirits are attracted to you like a magnet. I’m working on learning to create barriers, learning to control the visits. But it’s not going very well.”
He was looking at her like her head had just spun all the way around and she’d spewed pea soup. It hurt, more than she was prepared for. She was aware, this time, as she herself bristled. “If it bothers you that much, you’re welcome to go back to Per’s. Or Chicago. Or wherever.” She glared at him, daring him to go.
He scrubbed at his face, sighed, then stood.
Her heart dropped. Screw him, then. Him and the horse he rode in on.
She was surprised when he reached down and grabbed her hand, gave her a gentle pull. “Come on.”
“What? Where?”
“We’re going to bed. We’ll deal with this shit in the morning.”
“So you want a roll in the hay before you bail?”
He pulled her up and into his arms, kissed her so deeply, so tenderly, she felt as though she’d melted. “No, I’m not bailing. I just need to process this – I was raised a Catholic, Ellie. This is way outside my normal… comfort zone. But I do think a little distraction would do us both a world of good. Besides. You’re very fetching when you channel dead people. It’s the greenish glow in your eyes.”
There was a thud in her chest as her heart started up again. She smacked him on the arm. “My eyes are green, you idiot.”
“Oh, I know. I’ve been gazing longingly into them for ten years.”
“What?”
“Oh yeah. Ever since I stood up with you in Dan and Kate’s wedding and we got to dance together. That was the moment I knew you were the woman for me.”
She gazed up into those blue eyes. “That’s… that’s ridiculous. You were a kid.”
“Hey. No dissing. I was a very mature seventeen, and heading to Cambridge in three months.” He grinned that ridiculous grin. “I was always precocious.” He bent down and kissed her again. “Now less talking and more drunken teenage-ness.”
Finding herself smiling just as ridiculously, she let him push her up the ladder and distract her for a good long while.
Thursday morning was clear and almost balmy. Well, balmy compared to the sub-zero temperatures they’d been experiencing. The high, according to the weatherman, was due to creep up to almost thirty, a temperature they hadn’t seen since the end of December.
While it had still been dark when Ellie left for the shop, she still managed to fill the bird feeder and scatter some stale bread and a handful of squishy blueberries that were about to go bad onto the had packed snow around the porch. It had been a hard winter for the birds and the squirrels and it was the least she could do on their behalf. Besides, if she kept them fed, maybe they’d leave the boxes of Christmas ornaments and summer clothing she was storing in the shed alone. The first year she’d lived here, the squirrels had made nests out of the sweaters she’d kept in boxes there, and then eaten all the colorful ears of corn she’d carefully decorated the cabin with for Halloween.
She opened the shop without incident – no more frozen water pipes – and Marg even managed to make it in early to start the special for the day: her divine lemon poppy seed muffins.
Harvey Briggs came in at his usual time, followed shortly by Laura Lincoln and Terri Kohler. She fended off questions from everyone about the previous night’s dinner debacle, amazed at the power and speed of Horizon’s gossip network. The whole town was abuzz with the scandalous argument held in public between the grand dame of the Mueller clan, Alphie Mueller and the newest local celebrity, Link Fairweather.
She even managed to keep Marg at bay about it, promising her she’d give her chapter and verse during their lunch break. Today was Per’s day at the l
ocal Moose Lodge, so Ellie wouldn’t be bringing him lunch.
The morning crowd had pretty much dispersed by eight o’clock. They finished cleaning up for their morning break and Ellie had just poured both her and Marg a cup of hot tea, and snagged two cinnamon raisin scones from the bakery case when Patti Mough burst through the door as though the hounds of hell were chasing her. Her gray blue eyes were wide, and her face was blanched white.
“Oh, God, Ellie, you’ve got to help. Please.”
Marg ran out of the kitchen at the sound of Patti’s voice. Ellie came around the end of the counter and eased Patti into a chair before she collapsed. “Patti, what is it? What’s happened? Is it one of the cows?”
“No. Oh God, no. It’s Link. Link Fairweather. Oh, God, Ellie he’s dead. He’s lying in the middle of my north pasture, with his head in the water trough, and he’s dead.”
Chapter Eight
Ellie felt the need to sit down herself. “Patti, are you sure?”
“I know a dead man when I see one.”
“Where’s Earl? Is he with the body? Did he call the police?”
“Earl’s in Platteville. He went over this morning to meet with one of the professors at School of Agriculture there.” Patti got a panicked look. “I didn’t call Bill, I just couldn’t.”
“Patti, why not?” She got up, heading for the phone.
“Oh, Ellie, please, don’t. You don’t understand. I found something underneath the… the body.”
“You didn’t touch anything.” Ellie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Not only had Patti not called the cops, she’d apparently tampered with evidence.
“I had to. It was sticking out from underneath his legs. I had to remove it.”
“Remove what, Patti?”
“Josh’s scarf. The one I knitted him last year at Christmas.”
Ellie groaned, then took a deep breath. “Okay. Um… Marg, I want you to call Bill. Tell him to meet us up at the farm. Patti, where did you say the body was?”