Mariah put down the coffee carafe and joined them. “You have a brother? Is he ill?”
“Gladys spoke to Sam. What time is it back there? Noon? I’d better try to catch him when he’s at lunch.” Dinah got up and hurried for her office, where she kept a landline.
“Gladys spoke?” Maria poured herself a cup of coffee and regarded Sam with interest. “Do tell.”
“She had bad news about Dinah’s mother, apparently. I don’t know why she didn’t tell Dinah herself.” Feeling uneasy under Mariah’s stare, Sam nibbled the mouth-watering cinnamon bun.
“Because Dinah isn’t a sensitive,” Mariah explained, gesturing with her cup. “She talks about auras and maybe she even sees them, but she’s been faking for so long, even she doesn’t know what’s real.”
Sam wrinkled her nose at this non-explanation. “What does being sensitive have to do with Gladys? She seemed quite sensible to me.”
“Gladys died of breast cancer last year,” Mariah said, watching Sam. “They buried her casket beside her husband in the cemetery, but I have a feeling they buried part of her in her garden.”
“What part, her heart?” Sam said with mockery. “And that allows her to keep living?”
“Don’t be such a Null,” Mariah retorted. “Gladys is dead. But her garden lives. Until now, I’m the only who has seen her. I suppose the solstice could make the veil thinner, as it does at Halloween, so even a near-Null could see her.”
“That’s absurd,” Sam protested, like a Null.
“Sturdy lady, gorgeous long graying dark hair?” Mariah asked.
“Yes. Maybe it’s her daughter?”
Mariah shook her head. “That’s Gladys. She had no kids. We’re waiting for the Kennedys to realize the lot is being held by the state and to snatch it up for their inventory. But right now, no one lives there.”
“Someone does. The garden is gorgeous,” Sam argued, not mentioning the compost conversation. She’d thought she’d finally found a source, and it would be too disappointing—and frightening—if she’d imagined a conversation with a ghost.
“Some of us try to keep it up to hide the fact that the house is empty, but mostly, the garden tends itself—as if a ghost gardener maintains it.” Mariah finished eating her bun without concern.
“Then you’d better hope your ghost catchers don’t catch her,” Sam said in disgust, before turning to take orders from a new customer.
But when she walked back up to her apartment after the lunch rush, a dump load of beautifully composted dirt awaited her outside Gladys’s cottage.
Chapter 19
“The attorney general’s office has a closed file on the mortgage fraud dating back over twenty years,” Walker’s operative reported.
Walker switched the phone to his other ear and started making notes. “When did they close the file?”
“Not long after your father’s death. Their main suspect was Geoffrey Kennedy, and he died. His mortgage company was sold and the loans scattered. They were following leads on the Menendez family, and the people who snatched up the land under a hippy commune, but Kennedy was the money man. How deep do you want me to dig?”
“Give me names, their relationship to the case, and let’s see if we can establish a map of land ownership. I’m not entirely certain the fraud has ended.” Walker didn’t know why he said that. No one had indicated any problems related to mortgages and foreclosures. The laws had changed since Kennedy had gone on his land grab. He just knew the Kennedys and Menendez were still sparring over casinos and condos and the townspeople were worried.
Anywhere else, the town inhabitants would be helpless, caught between two huge developments. Walker had a gut feeling that the people of Hillvale were a different breed. He hadn’t liked taciturn Juan all that much, but he didn’t want the security manager to be the first fatality in a new battle.
Since he’d worked overtime during the fire, he had drawn the second shift today. He’d spent the day on his own investigation, but it was time to holster up. He buckled on his gun, picked up his cell and tablet, and was headed for the door when the cell ring indicated his research assistant calling.
Trying to run a business while working a demanding job meant he wasn’t doing either task well. “Yeah?” he said into his Bluetooth as he headed for his official vehicle.
“I’ve been looking into your Ingerssons,” Sofia said proudly.
According to the senior management who had taken over the firm after his father, she’d been trying to become a detective since his father had first hired her. She was actually pretty good at the research end. “And why are you doing that?” Although Walker had been equally curious. He simply didn’t have the time to look into Sam’s maternal family. He no longer had any official reason to become involved in her personal problems.
“I’m not charging anyone for it,” Sofia said in indignation. “That poor girl deserves to know what she’s getting into. The Ingerssons used to own the land between the Kennedy lodge and the Menendez property above it. That’s where the hippy commune was established. Is there still a farmhouse there? I’ve always wondered what it was like to live off the land.”
Walker tried to picture the area in his head as he started the car and headed out. “May have been once, but there’s no house. The fire took out part of that side of the mountain yesterday, so any other evidence of a farm is probably gone. That was half a century ago. What does it have to do with Sam?”
He knew Sam’s mother was an Ingersson. Valdis was Sam’s aunt, her mother’s sister. Walker’s interest was captured despite his disparagement of Sofia’s research. Valdis had climbed those hills without fear because they were her home.
“The Ingerssons lost the land to a bank, one in which Geoffrey Kennedy owned a substantial share. There were suits and countersuits, up until your Samantha’s maternal grandparents died. You might add their deaths to your to-do list. They were only in their forties or fifties, I have their ages here somewhere. . .”
“Don’t worry, I can figure it out later. How did they die?” Walker demanded. His gut was getting a real workout this morning.
“Apparent heart attack for her grandfather. Overdose for her grandmother. They were part of the original commune, of course, so drugs were common.”
“And how long ago was this?” Although Walker thought he already knew.
“About twenty-five years ago,” Sofia said. “That’s why I thought it might be important.”
Shit in a bottle. . . “Just before Sam’s mother gave away her baby and fled,” he said with finality.
“Exactly—around the time that Samantha’s father also died of an overdose.”
Had the land fraud his father was investigating begun then? How the hell would he tell Sam? “See who owns that land now,” he demanded, then hit the gas pedal and aimed for Hillvale.
“Why are we having a town meeting on a hillside?” Sam asked, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders as she walked. “Couldn’t we hold it at Cass’s place if there’s no meeting hall?” Cass had been avoiding her, which added to her irritability.
Undeterred by the chilly air, Mariah climbed the rocky path as if she were a mountain goat. “The vortex is safer and more effective, especially at the solstice. We tried meeting at Cass’s once, but Cass draws spirits, and we have too many sensitives. Valdis went bananas and whatever took over Tullah went after Valdis and it got ugly. Harvey and Aaron carried them out here, and they calmed down, so that’s how we’ve done it ever since.”
Sam could actually imagine that, she realized with amazement. She feared this might be carrying an open mind a step too far. But then, she was apparently seeing ghosts, so why not?
“Where’s your staff?” Mariah demanded, using hers to propel herself up the rugged path.
“I couldn’t carry it and a blanket too.” Accepting the staff bothered her somehow, even though she’d paid Harvey.
“It’s a weapon. You should keep it at hand, if only to beat back bushes.”
She whacked at an overhanging branch to prove her point.
Sam changed the subject back to one of more interest. “And how long have these vortex meetings been going on?” Trying to piece together her own past inevitably involved Hillvale history, so she was prepared to listen.
Mariah shrugged. “Hard to say. I’ve only been here a few years. The older ones managed at Cass’s, so maybe it’s new blood that has stirred up the spirits. Valdis has only been here a little longer than me, Tullah and Dinah a little longer.”
Sam wasn’t ready to believe in ghosts yet. Finding water could have been an accident or Harvey playing tricks. The inexplicable compost pile had shaken her, though. She’d not told anyone about that. She’d almost have to either believe in mind reading or ghosts, and right about now, she was spooked enough to believe if they could happen anywhere, it would be in Hillvale. Could her scientific expertise belong in a community like this? She had a longing for the safety of the classroom she’d been teaching in.
“Do we have an agenda for this meeting?” she asked, just to ground herself.
“That’s a very Null thing to expect,” Mariah said cheerfully. “Just watch and listen and you’ll see. It’s very free form and driven by what rocks each individual.”
Being treated as an outsider was nothing new, but loneliness haunted her with Mariah’s words. She was pretty certain Nulls were interlopers, and she shouldn’t be here. Once more, she was the odd one out in a group she wanted to accept her.
Discouraged, Sam found a flat-topped boulder that had absorbed the sun’s warmth. Now that the sun was setting, the temperatures were dropping, and she almost wished for a fire. She squashed that thought. The stench of smoke and ash still lay across the valley like a heavy pall.
Shadows drifted up the path and from down the mountain and through the trees, filling the natural amphitheater around the vortex. She hadn’t realized there were so many ways of accessing this area—or that there were so many people who believed in Mariah’s insane revolution.
Mariah had apparently had an ugly confrontation with the mayor earlier in the day involving developing the burned out land with condos. Apparently the Kennedys expected the scorched landscape to adversely affect the tourist business and had moved to Plan B. Mariah, and probably all the Lucys, were opposed.
Sam didn’t see how the vortex would resolve anything. The energy didn’t feel any different from the earth energy she felt everywhere. Perhaps the negative and positive swirled a bit—she couldn’t quite tell. Resentfully, she crossed her arms under the blanket and refused to indulge in unscientific theories.
Wrapped in her shedding feather coat, Daisy sat in her own world. Sam almost envied her the coat. Talking animatedly with Tullah and Amber, Dinah evidently sided with the Lucys, whether or not she was sensitive. Sam recognized Harvey and Aaron standing with several gray-haired men she’d seen in the diner but couldn’t place otherwise. Mariah had a pretty good audience. As the time for the meeting grew closer, all the rock seats had filled and people were standing on the outside, in the woods.
Luminous globes floated from the empty center rocks, the purported vortex. Chatter died down. That was a neat Las Vegas trick.
Mariah took a stand on one of the flatter outcroppings. “The Kennedys have chosen to proceed with the condo development and ski resort.”
A groan went up from the audience. Voices of protest rose out of the darkness, but Mariah held up her hand, and they silenced. “They own the land. They have the law on their side. There will be evictions. They could raze the entire town if so inclined. But first, they have to level and terrace the hillside on the north end of the valley.”
The valley around the lodge, below the Menendez land, Sam now knew, the area partially consumed by the fire. She could almost feel the despair swirling around the circle. Did that many people live up there? She hadn’t thought so.
“They need Menendez to agree to access,” Harvey said from outside the circle. “Do they have it?”
“They seem to think they do,” Mariah said.
“Bulldozers on sacred ground,” Daisy said sadly from her seat on the rocks. “The Evil One uncovered. It will seek and destroy us, as it has before, and take away the Earth Mother. We must send her away again.”
“It is because she has returned that this is happening,” an older woman shouted from further down the hill. “We sent her away for a reason!”
“I brought her back for a reason,” Cass said, striding into the clearing. “The heart of the town is being sucked dry, and we are growing weak. If we don’t turn the tide now, we may as well pack up and leave and let the Nulls win.”
Sam felt an icy chill down her back. Were they talking about her? Amber had called her an earth goddess. Earth mother was only slightly less whacky. She would get up and leave, but she’d have to climb over rows of people to do so.
“She can’t fight city hall,” Harvey said in a scoffing tone. “Better to keep her safe. It’s not as if any of us are making enough of a living here to make it worth a sacrificial lamb.”
“You’re young,” one of the older men said. “You don’t know what we’ve done to keep this place safe. We have nowhere else to go.”
Voices clamored from every side. An eerie wail began high above the clearing. Shadows shifted, and the weird luminous balls multiplied, flitting back and forth overhead. Chilled, body and soul, Sam started to rise, but a hand pressed her back again.
“It’s all right,” Amber whispered behind her. “Theatrics are always a given in this crowd. Now that you have fire out of the way, you have the Magician and the scarecrow on your side. I’ll read your cards again in the morning, if you have time to stop by.”
Amber’s sensible voice settled Sam’s nerves. Theatrics, of course. Magicians had used them for ages to distract from their illusions. She settled in to enjoy the show.
Cass waved her hand in the air, and the light balls swirled around Dinah. Apparently taking that as permission, Dinah stood to speak. “I have nowhere else to go. My café is profitable here. Where else would I find better customers? But I rent from the same place everyone else does. If they don’t renew my lease, I have no choice but to pack up.”
One by one, the story was repeated—the Kennedy leasing company owned the land the town was built on. If they protested development—who knew what would happen?
A gray-bearded man in flannel shirt and overalls rose slowly when his turn came. “Listen to us! The vampire has sucked our souls, our ability to fight, and made us what we are today. We fought the Evil One once and won—at a cost. Where will we find the strength to do it again?”
“This sounds like something out of a fantasy novel,” Sam murmured in exasperation.
One of the older women she’d met at the séance patted her knee. “Exciting, isn’t it? The spirits have been demanding action for years now, and we’ve been too comfortable to listen. Finally, we can act.”
Sam wanted to suggest that a lawyer would make more sense than theatrics, but she had no cat in this fight. She’d be gone long before they settled anything. An argument broke out that had the lights circling madly, and she got antsy again. She glanced around and thought she saw Walker in his cowboy hat coming up the path they’d taken earlier in the week, when she’d told him about her memory problem. She longed to go to him, but it would be foolish to do so.
The weirdly liquid banshee wail was coalescing into words, and Sam grimaced, recognizing Valdis. Was this really her aunt—a melodramatic, mentally unhinged aunt?
“The Evil must be expunged from this plane,” Valdis cried in a voice that carried like an owl’s hoots in the night air. Standing on a rocky ledge above the others, she waved a long black cloak like batwings. “The Earth belongs to the Mother. She must take up the battle and lead the way.”
Oh yeah, right, auntie, so not happening, Sam thought grimly.
“She’s a Kennedy,” someone else shouted from the woods. “She’s probably spying on us right now. I say s
end her back where she came from. We were fine until she arrived.”
Oh well, thank you so much. “I don’t like this,” Sam whispered. She felt as if she were back in seventh grade with the mean girls writing Her parents are weird and she smells like goats. She couldn’t punch an entire town. “I don’t belong here.”
Amber hugged her. “Of course you do, poppet. Cass brought you here for just this reason. He’s right, the energy vampire has weakened us, but you will bring us life again, just the way you have nourished our planters.”
“Because plants and people are no different?” Sam asked with an edge of sarcasm. “I should dump manure on you?” But no one responded to her nervous anger. She didn’t have to stay.
She simply longed for the peaceful land she’d had before her parents died—one where she was normal and felt at home. . .
Heated mutters rose on the wind, disturbing the fantasy drama. The light balls flickered and started fading. Mariah and Cass shouted over the buzz of voices, but it was obvious old animosities had been stirred. Sam decided it was time to go. She stood up, and this time, Amber didn’t stop her.
“Go and keep on going,” a male voice shouted when she tried to find a path up the rocks. “We don’t need no Nulls here,” a second, female, voice cried. “She’s the reason Juan died!” another cried. “The Evil One spewed the skeleton because of her!”
Rattled, Sam fought her way through the bodies blocking her in. They shifted, parted, let her pass—until a large masculine frame blocked her way. She almost flung herself into Walker’s arms. “Get me out of here,” she whispered.
“Not like this. You have to play to the crowd.” He swung her around, forcing her to face the mob. He shouted to be heard. “Cass is a Kennedy. Do you call her a Null?”
Mariah echoed his cry. “Have you taken time to see what Samantha has done with our planters in town? Those weeds she planted in the alley—have you seen how they’re blooming already? And you call her a Null?”
Resentfully, Sam wanted to shake off the strong hands holding her pinned to the spot. But. . . People had noticed her planters? And thought them special? Why?
Sapphire Nights: Crystal Magic, Book 1 Page 18