Moonstone Shadows

by Patricia Rice

  That wouldn’t be easy if she passed out every time she touched it.

  She wasn’t a sensitive. Why would the painting affect her like that?

  And if it was the one she sought, what was there about it that had made Aaron go to jail rather than give it up?

  Before she could escape his presence to better examine the lower floor, heavy feet pounded up the stairway, and a golden god with a slight resemblance to Kurt emerged. Tall, with jock shoulders, and dressed as if he were on the way to a ball game, he nodded at Hannah. “The new schoolteacher,” he said in approval.

  Looked like she was the new teacher then. She was pretty certain this was Kurt’s brother, the mayor.

  “Monty!” Kurt called from his measurement of the bathroom wall, sounding concerned. “What’s wrong?”

  The mayor’s pleasant charm instantly disappeared. “Uh. . . the cops are letting us into Mom’s room.” He looked uncomfortable, a state so outside the normal that even Hannah sensed the difference. “They want some kind of. . . inventory to see if anything is missing.”

  Kurt’s shoulders sagged as he zipped up his measuring tape. “Do we have to? We told them last night that we couldn’t see anything missing. It’s not as if we have a list.”

  Even Hannah could sense the grief and confusion in their voices and body language. The brothers didn’t know how to handle their mother’s death.

  “Will they let me inside?” Aaron asked quietly. He didn’t push, didn’t mention his talent, but distracted the Kennedys enough to offer them a little breathing space.

  Hannah hadn’t thought the icy antique dealer possessed that much compassion. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he just had experience in getting what he wanted.

  But the Kennedys responded with relief. “You might help,” Kurt admitted, reluctantly heading for the stairs. “Maybe you can tell what she was thinking. We never could.”

  With no talent to offer, Hannah trailed behind the men and down the stairs. She supposed she should stay here and figure out how to set up a schoolroom, if the rental agent didn’t have to lock up immediately.

  They emerged into the sunlight to find Teddy and Fee waiting for them. Hannah glanced at the café to see if Monty’s fiancée had shut it up for the day, but business appeared to be booming as usual.

  “Dinah and Sam are covering for me,” Fee said, noticing the direction of her gaze. “Teddy’s sister is covering the jewelry shop. Come with us for moral support. Maybe you’ll add fresh perspective.”

  Hannah wanted to say she had nothing to add, but curiosity won out. Leaving Xavier to lock up, they swept her into the open-air shuttle waiting in front of city hall.

  She ended up sitting on the last seat—with Aaron. They both edged to the far ends of the metal bench. She squirmed a little watching the two couples in front offering each other love and understanding. She’d never been part of a pair and now she probably never would be. Aaron simply twirled his walking stick. Hannah hadn’t thought to bring hers.

  The shuttle let them out at the front of the lodge, where tourists waited to take it back to town. Hannah followed the Kennedys as they traipsed down pathways to the rear of the lodge where Carmel had her suite. Even Fee and Teddy refrained from chattering once they reached the yellow crime scene tape. Walker, the police chief, waited for them.

  He looked askance at Aaron and Hannah—the chief was a Null, she knew. But like the Kennedys, he was married to a Lucy and apparently understood that they might help more than harm.

  Hannah hesitated, feeling like a voyeur, but Teddy grasped her arm and tugged her forward.

  “Neutral party,” she murmured. “The emotions are over the top right now, pushing my empathy into overdrive. You and Aaron provide a calming blanket that keeps everyone from boiling over.”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” Hannah murmured back. “I just don’t want to be in the way.”

  Fee stepped back to listen, then sniffed the air. “Your scent reminds me of the canyon on a sunlit day—serenity and sage.”

  “Or boulders,” Teddy added with a low laugh. “Hannah is whatever the opposite of tightly wound is.”

  “A rolling stone?” Hannah suggested, choosing to linger by the door to study the suite where they’d found Carmel just last night.

  Carmel had lived in quiet opulence: linen and silk, in oatmeal and subdued gold colors. Mahogany and rosewood accent tables added contrast to a bed and dresser in a blond custom lacquer finish with gold leaf. A silk Persian rug over a thick ivory carpet completed an interior fit for any design magazine.

  Kurt and Monty stood helplessly among their mother’s feminine accouterments. Like Hannah, Walker stayed near the door, simply keeping an eye on the proceedings.

  “Let me touch first,” Aaron suggested. “You’re likely to imprint grief or anger over anything else.”

  “Start with the valuables,” Kurt said. “Maybe an expert thief would lift a few of the more expensive pieces, figuring we wouldn’t notice.”

  “Which we wouldn’t,” Monty added honestly. “She has a bank vault full of jewelry from her family that might be on an estate list. Otherwise, we have no clue what she bought on her own.”

  Aaron passed his hand back and forth over a large jewelry cabinet, and then opened the drawers to study the contents. “A few heirloom pieces here but mostly modern designer. She has one of your crystal pieces, Teddy.”

  “I’m guessing not the one with honesty stones.” Teddy crossed the carpet to check the drawers after Aaron was finished examining them. She raised her expressive eyebrows. “No other crystals. She preferred gold. I can’t do math on figures this large, but you can probably make the down payment on a new house reselling these.”

  “She had nothing else to spend money on,” Kurt said, glancing around. “She had free room and board and a chauffeured limo. And she still insisted on receiving dividends even when the corporation had no cash. She’d go to the bank and sweet talk her old buddies into writing loans that Monty and I had to figure out how to pay. If you can sell all that crap, we might finally pay off some of them.”

  “I know good wholesalers.” Teddy sorted through the gold. “They’ll buy the lot. Or I can set up a page on my website and sell direct for twice as much. It would just take longer.”

  The conversation reminded Hannah that it was what one accomplished while still alive that mattered more than what one left behind. For all intents and purposes, Carmel had vanished from this world, sadly, leaving few fond memories, only gold to be sold. Hannah wanted to hug the Kennedys and make the emptiness go away, but they had people who could do that better than she could.

  She had never given it much thought, but she had always wanted to be a teacher and librarian. Her instincts leaned toward improving the world rather than accumulating wealth. Removing Carmel’s killer seemed a good place to make improvements, so she reluctantly followed the antique dealer/psychometrist. After dismissing the jewelry, Aaron had vanished inside a walk-in closet. She edged over to peer in.

  He’d turned on a track of overhead lights revealing rows of tailored outfits, neatly organized by color. A fancy closet system at the back held evening gowns and furs, with pull-out racks for shoes and purses. Aaron didn’t touch anything, just moved his palm steadily up and down, searching for whatever it was that he felt.

  “I’m only sensing Carmel in here,” he said as he approached the far end. “The closet excited her. Suppressed emotion is almost as powerful as expressed. It’s more concentrated.”

  Hannah thought that might be more words than he’d spoken to her since they met. She was afraid to break the spell by commenting. Maybe he assumed she was Kurt.

  “Here it is. Call the Kennedys.” He crouched down at the rear of the closet and poked his staff beneath the evening gowns.

  All right, he knew she wasn’t Kurt. Hannah gestured at Teddy, who abandoned the jewelry cabinet to catch Kurt’s arm. Hannah stepped aside so the brothers could crowd in behind Aaron. Fee and Teddy slipped
inside while Hannah and Walker waited in the double doorway.

  “She loved whatever was behind this wall,” Aaron explained, pushing aside the gowns with his stick. “Everything back here is permeated with her anticipation. She’s been here recently. The impressions are clear and strong.”

  Aaron ran his hands over what appeared to be a blank wall beneath the gowns. Within seconds, he’d located a latch that opened under pressure. An opening in the wall swung out, and he backed away so everyone could see.

  “She spent a fortune remodeling this closet,” Kurt said in disgust. “Now I see why.”

  Hannah had to strain to look past the brothers—a safe! Beside her, Teddy and Fee snorted in disdain. Believing anyone needed protection against theft in a small town like Hillvale bordered on paranoia. How much more gold could Carmel have stored in a safe than was already in the jewelry cabinet? Hoarding so much wealth while a town suffered. . . It happened, Hannah knew, for a variety of reasons, not all of them rational.

  “Some people think only of themselves,” Fee whispered, almost angrily.

  “But whatever she stored in there may be how she kept the lodge going for those years her sons were young,” Walker corrected without inflection.

  “In her head, that might easily have justified hiding funds,” Hannah murmured, sad for the woman who had never known the freedom to be generous or giving.

  “We don’t know the combination,” Monty protested in impatience, crouching beside Aaron. “Can we blow it up?”

  Hannah caught a flicker of amusement in Aaron’s dark gaze as he glanced back at the honest mayor. Without a word, he turned to the safe and set his skillful fingers on the dial. It clicked open in three spins. His psychometry had apparently picked up Carmel’s thoughts as she’d turned the dial.

  “You would have made a great bank robber,” Hannah muttered, unable to tolerate the suspense.

  “Thank you.” Aaron opened the safe door, then sat back so the brothers could access it first.

  “Just an old metal box.” In disappointment, Kurt pulled out a heavy object Hannah couldn’t quite see.

  “Filled with cash?” Fee asked hopefully.

  “This damned thing is locked too. We need a key.” Kurt dragged the heavy, ornate box to the center of the closet where they could all surround it.

  Before Hannah could exclaim at the familiar item, Monty applied his boot heel to the trunk’s rounded top.

  “No. . . damned. . . way.” He underscored each word by applying his heel to the lock.

  On the third stomp, the metal caved.

  Seven

  Loosening the casket lid released a. . . Aaron didn’t have a word for it, but the emanation was strong. He caught Monty’s hand before the mayor could open it. “Don’t. Stand back. Whatever is in there isn’t normal. Maybe you should all back out. I’ll use my stick to pop it open.”

  The librarian watched him with suspicion. He had the feeling that she knew his history and had good reason to distrust him.

  She was the Malcolm librarian; of course she knew his history. Chances were good Walker had investigated him as well, but the police chief kept his own counsel. Walker had a habit of unobtrusively listening and watching, gathering information until his formidable mind had formed the right questions.

  Aaron had spent this last decade staying above suspicion, and he wasn’t changing now, even if Monty’s rage and grief had just crushed a medieval jewel casket. Maybe it needed crushing. Carmel’s overriding excitement left impressions on the ornate surface that were all negative in his mind. Lust for objects never had pleasant connotations.

  They all reluctantly gave him space.

  “If evil demons are about to pop out, you might want to gather a few holy relics first,” the librarian suggested.

  She was an oasis of calm in a torrent of emotions. He couldn’t tell if she was being facetious.

  “At least bring it out here where you have more room,” Walker suggested.

  “I’d rather keep it contained,” Aaron explained. “I don’t sense anything living, just strong vibrations.”

  “No zombies,” Hannah murmured, definitely tongue in cheek.

  Aaron shot her a look that she met with amusement. He couldn’t tell if she was being brave or stupid by ignoring his warning.

  “There’s an identical casket in a medieval painting hanging in Keegan’s library,” she explained. “That’s either a very good imitation, or the original, in which case it’s quite possibly a Malcolm artifact.”

  A Malcolm relic would explain a lot—except for why Carmel had it. Everyone tried to push closer. Aaron was forced to shove it out of the shadows so they could all see.

  She was right, damn her. He recognized the box as well, but it hadn’t been in a medieval painting. It was in the painting he’d hidden in the top of the wardrobe. He couldn’t even call it coincidence. Malcolm artifacts had a habit of turning up around Malcolm descendants.

  While everyone watched, Aaron pried at the lid with his stick. It wouldn’t budge. Cursing under his breath, he crouched down. Objects this old were dangerous and often excruciatingly painful to touch, especially ones exuding such strong emanations. Calculating the right pressure point to open the lock, he pressed two fingers to the metal.

  Excitement. Greed. Spite. Anxiety. Fear. Flashes of countless blurred images. That last might have knocked him over, except the intensity of Carmel’s greed buried the earlier impressions. He was afraid that meant Carmel hadn’t known what she had or hadn’t possessed the sense to respect its power.

  The lock still didn’t give. He yanked his fingers away. If Monty hadn’t smashed it, he might have been able to pick the lock. Under the cold eyes of the law, he was almost grateful he had an excuse not to exhibit his expertise.

  “I don’t think anyone has touched this except your mother in a long time.” Aaron didn’t see any way of opening the box without force. The metal had twisted beneath Monty’s frustration and the lid needed to be pried.

  “Could it be the source of the lodge’s pollution?” Hannah asked.

  Good question, one he couldn’t answer except to say that Malcolm artifacts were usually more helpful than dangerous. Reluctantly, he pulled out his pocket knife and pried at the metal. He didn’t want to harm anyone, but his audience wouldn’t leave until they saw the contents.

  “Stay back,” he warned as the latch gave.

  The opening was almost a let-down. The frayed, velvet-lined interior contained what appeared to be rough stones or raw gems. They’d all seen the crude crystal rocks Keegan had mined from the cave up the mountain, and the polished jewels Teddy ordered for her store. This wasn’t Aladdin’s glittering treasure trove by any means.

  The stones still emanated energy similar to the vibrations surrounding Hillvale.

  “There was a bigger object in the center,” Teddy observed, looking over his shoulder. “Someone added a bed of padded satin to protect the stones. There’s a dent in that lining where something heavy must have been stored for a long time.”

  Aaron pressed his finger into the indentation. “The impressions are muddied but powerful.” He glanced up at the stoic police chief. “I know you have no reason to believe me, but this may be what the thief stole.”

  “Stand back, let me take pictures and measurements.” Walker snapped photos of the interior and measured the indentation. “I don’t see how a thief had time to tuck all this back in place after killing Carmel. The stone may have been gone for a while.”

  “May I touch them?” Teddy asked warily.

  “I think you’d better let Keegan see them first. These might be like the crystals the artists in the commune ground into their pigments. Some of them may be the almandine garnets that reflected evil.” Aaron was pretty sure that was exactly what this trove was—the missing gems that had been brought here no one knew how long ago—from the collection of Keegan’s Malcolm ancestors. In other words, weird and dangerous rocks that had been experimented with by alchemist
s or who-knew-what over the centuries. Had they originally arrived in this casket?

  Hannah was silent, but she didn’t disagree with him. She’d seen the painting in the castle and probably some of Keegan’s stones. Aaron respected her silence on a subject that wasn’t hers to comment on.

  Which was what librarians did, he realized—stored and provided information without commenting on the contents, leaving people to read and decide for themselves.

  “The missing piece is almost a tennis-ball sized rock,” Walker said, standing up.

  “The murder weapon?” Aaron asked.

  Walker shoved his phone back in his pocket and shrugged, before turning back to the Kennedys. “The coroner hasn’t done a full report, but he did say your mother had an unusually thin occipital bone. Many people can take a blow to the back of the head and come away unharmed or with a mild concussion. Not your mother. The blow crushed her skull. Bone fragments pierced the part connecting with her spine, killing her pretty quickly. It’s possible that our killer only meant to knock her out.”

  Fee and Teddy hugged their significant others. Their sympathy for the brothers was almost tangible.

  In frustration, Aaron returned to running his hands over the tables and other objects in the room. He had no reason to hate Carmel but every reason to want his hands on the contents of that jewel casket. But protocol required that Walker lock them up as evidence. Finally, he had a clue to what the painting might be trying to say—and he couldn’t read it.

  “Let’s find Keegan,” the librarian said in low tones while Walker and the Kennedys argued over the disposal of the stones.

  “Won’t do any good if Walker locks up the stones as evidence,” Aaron muttered back, casting a longing glance at the casket.

  Hannah held open her slender palm to reveal a small grayish raw garnet.

  Aaron sat in stony silence beside her as the shuttle hauled them back to town. Amused, Hannah kept her distance, just in case she really was allergic to him. The stones had belonged to her ancestors. The police had no idea what they were. She saw no good reason why she shouldn’t take a small, rather inexpensive rock for an expert to examine. But her amusement was because Aaron objected to her thievery, yet hadn’t made her put it back. The man’s morals were definitely bent, but then, apparently so were hers.