The old lady came out of the back door ahead of her aunt. Even though it was almost eighty degrees she wore a sweater and long skirt. She’d ditched the headscarf though and her white hair was in a long braid wound around her head. Since she’d been a regular visitor at their house, it was like years had fallen from her stooped shoulders. And her English had improved. Mrs. Kovac looked over the water and waved to Ashley before Leah herded her into the chair she’d gotten out for her.
Ashley looked at the driveway. Still no sign of Jake and he’d promised her he’d come out. Her feet bumped into the sandy bottom and she stood up, turning her head to squeeze the water from her ponytail.
Mason saw her and then walked over with a towel in his outstretched hand. “Here. You’re getting prune fingers, you’ve been in the water so long.”
She winked at him and then went up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You just missed me is all.”
As she walked beside him, she glanced at her Aunt Claire. She was much quieter these days. She’d also cut back on her hours at the office. She was even talking about going back to school and getting her accountant’s license. Carol thought she could get her a job at the casino, although she wasn’t keen. Probably because of the association of the casino and Lucas.
She’d been so wrong about that guy. Uncle Jake had gotten the whole story and told them. Lucas wasn’t an investment guy. He was into human trafficking and running a prostitute ring. His father had been pressuring him about getting married to give him better cover for his illegal activities. Just Aunt Claire’s luck that he’d latched onto her.
Aunt Claire also said that she was in the process of breaking up with him when this whole episode began. Maya believed her, but Ashley was dubious. Until Carol told her the same thing, and showed the text messages between her and Aunt Claire discussing it. Carol said she was going to make a point of visiting Syracuse and showing the messages on her phone to Jake.
And she did.
Ashley’s reverie ended when Maya and her two sidekicks raced by them, diving into the bowl of potato chips on the picnic table.
Leah turned to her brother. “Preston! You guys! Save some for the rest of us.” She snatched the bowl from in front of them and took it over to the old lady offering her some.
Aunt Claire looked over at Ashley, sharing a look. Ever since that awful day, Leah had taken it upon herself to be a self-appointed protégé of the old woman. It drove her mother crazy which was half the reason she did it. Leah was no longer cowering to her mother’s fanaticism. And she had an ally in Preston. The old lady, for her part, didn’t mind Leah’s attention, especially when it came to weeding her garden.
Ashley looked up at the sound of her uncle’s voice. He carried a bottle of wine and a bunch of flowers in his arms. Holy cow! She’d told him to show up but she never expected him to go all out. He was even freshly shaved and wearing a golf shirt that looked brand new, from the crease in the sleeves.
“Hey girls! Guys.” He nodded over at the old lady and with a flourish he handed the flowers to her. “Ma bucur sa te vad, Margrit.”
“Vraijitor!” But her cheeks colored as she took them from him. “Multumiri.” She looked over at Claire. “I called him a charmer.” She looked back at Jake. “These should be for her.”
He handed the bottle of wine to Claire. “No. This is her favorite as I recall.”
Claire took the bottle from him and then looped her arm around his neck pulling him down to kiss his lips.
Ashley blinked a few times and looked over at Maya. There was hope for these two yet. How many times had they talked on the phone behind hers and Maya’s back?
The steaks on the BBQ weren’t the only thing cooking.
Jake took Claire’s hand in his and smiled down at her. He turned to Ashley and Maya. “We’ve got an announcement to make. We’re getting married.”
“Again! Can you believe it?” Claire grinned from ear to ear and held out her hand for them to see the ring on her finger.
So it wasn’t just phone calls. That explained Claire being away for the last two weekends on “courses.” Ashley and Maya raced over to them and hugged each of them in turn.
“I’m so happy that you’re getting back together!” Ashley felt like her chest would explode.
Jake pulled back looking at them. “I’ve quit my job but I’ve got a pretty good line on a position at the sheriff’s office here.”
Maya leapt into his arms. “Oh my God! That’s great!”
Ashley looked over at the movement beside the house and waved seeing Carol arriving.
Carol watched Jake as she sauntered over. “What’s going on?” She stopped short and her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God! You guys are getting back together?”
It became a flurry of hugs and gushing between Carol and Claire. Ashley turned to her sister. “I think Mom and Dad would be happy about this.”
Maya’s smile was wistful. “But we’ll have to trust in that. There’s no way I’m ever using a Ouija board again.”
The END
Author’s Note:
About ‘The Haunted Ones’
I hope you enjoyed ‘A Grave Conjuring’; I found writing it to be deeply rewarding. Yes, as I type these words, I already miss Henry’s wise-cracking too!
A Grave Conjuring is the second book I wrote in this series. You will meet new characters; and characters from previous books often times appear. In each tale of ‘The Haunted Ones’, I chronicle ordinary people coping with unspeakable evil from the other side.
The first book is ‘The Haunted Hideout’, which came to me when I had the thought “What if an FBI safe house turned out to be haunted?”
I’ve dropped its price for a limited time to just .99.
Click this link to get your copy!
The third book is ‘Haunted By The Succubus’. It’s Adam Rafferty’s story. He’s gifted in the paranormal, but untrained. His youth and naiveté, combined with his gifts bring his world crashing down. If you enjoyed ‘Odd Thomas’ books, you’ll find this tale worthwhile.
It’s at a Special Promotional price of just .99!
Click here to get your copy today!
My latest work in this series is ‘The Haunted Gathering’. Three women, friends since college gather to honor their dead friend. When they gather, a powerful evil is unleashed.
It will be published late November at a New Release price of .99.
Click this link to make sure you’re notified!
Thank you so much for reading my work! And now, I’d like to introduce you to Keira Swanson. She’s a trust fund princess who’s world is about to turn upside down. Just turn the page and delve into the world of The Mystical Veil with Legacy: Book 1!
Cheers,
Michelle Dorey
Legacy: The Mystical Veil 1
ABOUT THIS BOOK
A DROPOUT ON HER LAST CHANCE. A GRANDMA OFF OF HER ROCKER. TOGETHER, THEY’LL TAKE ON A SUPERNATURAL FAMILY TRADITION.
Keira is pretty sure there’s more to life than partying. But after her antics get her kicked out of college and off her parents’ payroll, she has no clue where her other talents lie. One thing’s for certain: she’s not going to find her life’s calling while caring for the aging Canadian grandma she never knew she had. Though whatever’s haunting granny’s ramshackle home may just prove her wrong…
Despite her best efforts to keep the superstitious octogenarian at an arm’s length, Keira can’t help but sense a kindred spirit. And try as she might to turn a blind eye to the creepy incidents following her every move, she’s beginning to believe there’s more to granny’s ghost stories—and the eerie whispers in her head—than she’d care to admit.
When the impossible truth comes to light, Keira must take her place in a supernatural legacy or risk losing everything to the realm of the dead…
Legacy is the first dynamic installment in The Mystical Veil, a series of New Adult paranormal suspense novels. If you like thrilling supernatural encou
nters, light-hearted humor, and twists you won’t see coming, then you’ll love Michelle Dorey’s otherworldly tale.
Copyright 2017, Michelle Dorey
ISBN: 978-1-927984-97-0
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
020318
ONE
DAMN! THE DOORS OF THE CAR SLID SHUT just as I reached the bottom of the stairs. If I hadn’t stopped for that latte, I could have made it and managed to get in at least half of the class. The squealing of the subway’s wheels as it left the station went through my already aching head like a cold knife. Argh! Why did I let Cerise talk me into those last two gimlets last night? The alcohol was probably still oozing out of my pores.
I probably should have flagged a cab but it was near the end of the month. If I hit Mom up for an advance again, it would be the third time this semester. Her lectures had gone from disappointment to nagging; if I ask for more money one more time she’d be well and truly pissed. Nope, taking the subway was the wiser move, in spite of the stench.
When the hand touched my arm from behind I let out a squeak and jumped away. Spinning around, I backed up three steps as I pushed my shoulder bag behind me.
A filthy panhandler, his eyes more bloodshot than mine stared at me obsequiously, his hand held out, palm up. “Spare some change?”
I sighed as I rubbed the sleeve of my jacket where he touched me. Shit, now I was going to have to Purell my hand. I shook my head in resignation as I opened the flap of my bag and dug around while keeping an eye on him. Cerise would have laughed at my bleeding heart. Just last night when a beggar on the street asked for some change, she asked if he could break a fifty.
There were precious few bills in my purse but I managed to find a few coins to drop into his gnarly hand. It was then that the stench of his B.O. hit me and my stomach convulsed; it was still pretty queasy from last night’s vodka and his smell brought me right to the edge of hurling. Ewww!
“Blessings ma’am.” He shuffled off down the platform as I dug out the Purell and spritzed my hands, watching his back.
I wish I had turned away, but I didn’t. He was wearing a jacket he probably got out of the dumpster at the Salvation Army, but that’s not what made me stare. It was his feet.
He had some kind of beat-up sneakers, but he didn’t have any socks. His pants were too short and I saw how thin his ankles were. They were beyond thin—he was so skinny. My breath caught in my chest.
“Hey!” I called out to him. “Hey, mister!” I pawed back into my purse sighing. Maybe I could put the squeeze on Dad without Mom knowing, I thought to myself as I pulled out my last five and ten.
The guy had turned around. I gulped a lungful of air and holding the two bills up in my hand stepped up to him.
“I want to give this to you, but you have to make me a promise.” I didn’t inhale yet.
“Huh?” Okay, this guy wasn’t a genius.
“Look,” I said, “If I give you this extra money, you have to promise me you’ll buy food with it.” I leaned forward a little. “And only something to eat. No booze or drugs. You gotta eat something, mmister.”
He cackled. “You just called me ‘mister’.” He grinned, and after looking at the mess his teeth were, I wish he hadn’t. “Been a long time since I been called that.” He reached out for the money.
I snatched my hand back. “No. You have to promise me. A real promise.”
His eyes were riveted on the money. “Sure. Cross my heart, hope ta die, alright?” He even did the thing with his fingers across his chest, and held out his hand again.
I shook my head no. “I want a real promise. Swear on…” I paused and looked into his eyes. “Swear on the memory of the person you’ve loved the most.” I have nooo clue where that came from, okay? But it had an effect.
His head rocked back like I had slapped him. “Dorothy?” he said. “I gotta swear on Dorothy?” His eyes misted. “I ain’t thought of her in a long time, ma’am.”
“Swear on Dorothy, and get something to eat, okay mister?”
He kept his eyes downcast. “I swear on Dorothy LaRussa that I’ll use this money only to get something to eat.” He lifted his head. “Promise.” His eyes were filled with sorrow and loss. Looking at his face broke my heart.
“I believe you. Here.” I passed the two bills to him and they disappeared.
He cackled at me. “Maybe I’ll buy bourbon balls at some chocolate shop, huh?” He waved a hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll eat pizza.” He then smacked his lips. “No! There’s a White Castle just a few stops down!” His eyes got soft. “I ain’t thought about Dorothy in a long, long time, ma’am.” The forlorn expression was replaced by a smile. Sure, it was wistful and bittersweet, but it was a smile. “God, I loved her.” He tipped me a two-fingered salute, “Thank you for that memory, ma’am,” and turned away. I watched him approach his next victim, a well-heeled corporate woman in a black silk Donna Karan jacket.
Just as the next train’s doors closed and pulled out of the station. Damn. I almost laughed. No good deed goes unpunished.
‘Ma’am!’ Did I look that old? Sure, I didn’t have time to put any makeup on but how many ma’ams wear Zara leggings with three-inch stilettos? I pulled out my Clinique compact and flipped open the mirror. Yeah, I looked like hell. But not like a ‘ma’am,’ okay? I looked like your average, hungover, twenty-three-year-old student in a rush to get to class. That’s all.
If it was really bad, a visit to one of the doctors up in midtown could straighten it out, no problem. I’ll worry about that after I finish school and start auditioning. By then I’d have an agent who would tell me flat out if I needed some work done or not. I was still checking for crow’s-feet and laugh lines—none!—when the next train pulled in with its screeches and clatters.
Twenty minutes later I entered the brick brownstone which housed the American Academy of Drama and took a deep breath to clear my head. My heels tocked-tocked on the terrazzo floor, while the sounds of voices raised in reciting scripts drifted from the rooms I raced by. I had only gone two steps up the broad stairway when a voice stopped me cold.
“Ms. Swanson?”
Oh damn. I knew that voice. I’d sat across from the director of the school just last week. With my heart in my throat, I turned and managed a small smile. “Yes, Mr. Morris? Can I see you later? I’m late and I really have to—”
“No. I’m afraid we need to talk. Now. Follow me, if you would be so kind.” He pushed the thick-framed glasses up his aquiline nose and spun on his heels, the overhead light casting a glare on his bald head as he strode down the hall.
For a moment all I could do was stand there clutching the handrail and blink. This couldn’t be good. The last time I’d sat in that office, he’d given me the lecture about how privileged I was to be attending this exclusive school, and the whole Meisner spiel that “acting was living truthfully in an imaginary world.” And of all the times for him to be roaming the hall, it just had to be when I was running late! Shit!
I trudged down the steps and walked down the corridor into his office, just in time to see him pluck a wilted leaf from the ivy plant on the windowsill. His smile was tight under flinty gray eyes which zeroed in on me like a bird of prey. He pulled out the chair in front of the desk and with a slight gesture indicated for me to take a seat.
My muddled mind kicked into high gear. “I’m sorry I’m late for class today. My roommate’s mother was in a car accident and I was up late with her at the hospital.” Please God, let the acting classes pay off enough for him to buy it. I sat down into the seat and leaned forward, giving my best wide-
eyed, innocent look.
“Miss Brady. While it is tragic about your roommate’s mother...” With fingers steepled, he placed his forefingers across his lips, and cleared his throat. “Keira, why exactly did you enroll in this school? What is it you want from this program?”
Duh. It was hard not to roll my eyes. “I want to be an actress, of course.” Something he was preventing right now, with this crap in his office. I should be in class, or anywhere, but right there.
“And how do you see yourself in that profession?” He genuinely looked perplexed as if he had no idea what his school was all about.
My lips twitched in a smile. This was so obvious, it was dead simple. “Successful. Maybe in Hollywood getting millions for every picture, or a sweet gig on a successful TV series.” I shrugged, because it really didn’t matter which one. “Either way, my...” I arched an eyebrow, “profession would encompass glamour, followed by fans and stalked by paparazzi.” I twirled a lock of hair around my finger and shrugged again, already seeing myself on the cover of People magazine. Movies or television, I wasn’t picky.
His eyebrows rose above the rim of his glasses, making an accordion of his forehead. “Like a Kardashian, perhaps?”
The grin now spread across my lips. I’d give my eyeteeth to be a household name like them. “Well, they are pretty famous and rich.”
His hand slapped the desk, making me pop back in my chair.
“Wrong! The world doesn’t need another Kardashian! The correct answer would have been a reference to the craft, your passion to become another person on the stage.” He sighed and pushed the glasses up onto the top of his shiny dome. “Do you know how many students applied for the program this year? We turned hundreds of applicants away. You wouldn’t be here except for your parents. I accepted you as a favor to Richard and Susan.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.
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