Topaz Dreams

by Patricia Rice

  “Drugstore chemicals can be dangerous,” Teddy argued. “Even salt is a crystal. The world is full of pollutants that can be made toxic. I just want whatever is in my attic to leave. Will your art dealer help with that? If not, then like Mariah, I’m not into a lot of theory. I want action. I want that ghost gone.”

  Mariah lifted her glass in salute. “Compadre,” she said in satisfaction.

  The room phone rang, and Teddy leaned over to grab it. She listened, then handed the receiver to Monty. He listened, growled, and got up.

  “Valdis is back. She’s howling at Teddy’s house.”

  Mariah sighed.” The Death Goddess has never been wrong yet.”

  Ten

  June 27: morning

  * * *

  Teddy woke up the next morning to a hangover and the Goths bickering in the bedroom. Groaning, she rubbed her eyes and verified she was decent and that she really had thrown out Hunky Kurt last night. After the others had departed to check on the Death Goddess—maybe Hillvale was just a little nuttier than she remembered—Kurt had lingered. But faced with too much stress and induced by too much alcohol, she’d performed her best Tempest Teddy meltdown, she remembered. He’d left her to it and escaped. Men didn’t like dealing with emotional women, and Kurt in particular would have an aversion, she sensed.

  Oh well, she didn’t need another man complicating her life anyway. Although she might be far less hysterical after another round of the spectacular sex he’d offered—or maybe that had only been a fluke brought on by pixie dust.

  She got up, tripped over Prince Hairy in the bedroom, and threw herself onto the big king-sized bed where Mia and Jeb were battering each other with pillows. They battered her instead. She was good with that. They needed to be kids and not worried about their mother.

  “Can we talk to Mama again?” Mia demanded. “I want to tell her what I dreamed.”

  Well, so much for that theory. She’d managed to catch Syd for a brief Skype session last night, but they didn’t dare spend much time online. They weren’t techies and had no idea of what resources Butthead might have in play.

  “This morning, we eat a huge breakfast, and then you’re going for pony riding lessons,” she said in her best good-aunt voice. She’d learned about the riding school from the receptionist at the desk, not taciturn Kurt, who probably had no idea what kids liked.

  They looked rightfully dubious about these plans, but she got them dressed, found ragged jeans and a shirt she wouldn’t mind throwing out after a morning in the filth of her attic, and took Prince Hairy for a walk before breakfast. She was in debt for the gems her ex had stolen after their break-up, but she still had enough money to pay for meals. That had been an expensive lesson in why she needed her Inner Monitor, but she didn’t need charity yet.

  She needed to contact her office, though, give them some instructions.

  Add that to her enormous to-do list, along with chasing ghosts from her attic and death goddesses from her doorstep. She’d wanted to change her life—she should have been more specific.

  With the kids bouncing on a sugary crepe-and-cereal high, Teddy marched them to the resort’s children’s center. At the height of tourist season, it was packed with children of all ages. Worried about last night’s discussion of evil, she briefly opened her senses, but she detected nothing except anticipation, the usual childish worries, and really focused young guides. Not a hint of pain—or evil—anywhere. Maybe she could only detect crystal evil?

  Or maybe living here was a total mistake, and she was losing her mind to even think such a crazy thing.

  After dropping off Mia and Jeb, Teddy helped Prince Hairy into the van and drove into town. She’d been told that Valdis, the so-called Death Goddess, was Sam’s aunt, who acted as the town banshee when spirits rose—usually from the dead and dying but occasionally from long-dead corpses. That didn’t sound in the least promising if a banshee was haunting her shop.

  And didn’t that sound like a ridiculous way to start the day? She almost hummed in anticipation. Life had been grim lately. Banshees seemed an entertaining alternative.

  As Teddy parked the van in the parking lot, a stream of Lucys emerged from the café. They’d obviously been watching for her since they headed straight for her place. Teddy started re-thinking her fond memories of small town living where everyone looked out for one another. She’d forgotten that was just another form of busybody nosiness.

  The tall woman in flowing dark veil and skirts had to be Valdis. She paced up and down the board sidewalk while the others chattered. As Teddy approached with Prince Hairy on his leash, the death goddess halted and announced, “Finally,” in a stage voice that would have carried any good theater. “That poor soul is waiting on us.”

  “That poor soul may have been dead a hundred years,” Teddy countered, unlocking the door. “Hi, I’m Teddy, and this is my home. You’re welcome to enter but please be kind to the ghosts.”

  Mariah snickered. Sam introduced her aunt, who nodded in tight disapproval but managed not to announce to every tourist in town that dead people resided here.

  Someday, Teddy’s Treasure Trove would need customers. Or maybe she ought to call it the Crystal Cavern.

  While Teddy pondered shop names and held the door, Cassandra led the way inside, followed by several other Lucys. Orange-haired Amber crouched down and rubbed Hairy’s head. He sniffed her be-ringed fingers, then headed straight for the kitchen and his sunspot, obviously unconcerned with spirits or pixie dust. Teddy figured the male dog was a Null.

  “Walker hasn’t heard anything from the lab about the chemicals in the dust,” Sam said as they settled around the big table in the front room. “He said not to go upstairs until he gets back from Baskerville.”

  Teddy looked at the other women. “I’m not in favor of waiting. If the dust has been all sucked out, I want to get down to business. Anyone have a reason why I shouldn’t go up there yet?”

  “She needs release,” Valdis intoned. “If she has a message she must share before she goes, we must be open to it.”

  “She’s already told us to find the art,” Mariah reminded everyone. “We need to know what art.”

  “Daisy’s hoard is immense. Can there be even more hidden elsewhere?” Sam asked.

  “Like in the attic?” Teddy suggested with only a shade of sarcasm as she headed for the stairs. “Maybe you can talk to her better up there. I’m going up if no one sees any objection other than male caution.”

  “Sometimes male caution makes sense,” Sam said, although she followed right behind Mariah, who was on Teddy’s heels.

  Earth, wind, and fire, Teddy remembered. Sam’s tall golden goddess along with Mariah’s sturdy darkness, and Teddy, her fiery auburn disguised. How did they get wind out of someone as solid-looking as Mariah? The woman was a mystery.

  “We’ll open ourselves to the spirit world down here,” Cass told the remaining Lucys in the shop. “Let the younger ones explore.”

  “Amber isn’t much older than I am,” Teddy muttered as they climbed the stairs. “Why do they treat her like an old lady?”

  “Her weight holds her back,” Mariah said prosaically, examining the ceiling. “I think it gives her knee trouble.”

  “We need magical healers. That would be a lot more useful than whatever it is we do.” Teddy studied the attic door. “Why did they have to close the damned thing up?”

  “To keep us out.” Sam checked the bedrooms and emerged with a stepladder.

  “That’ll do it,” Teddy said in satisfaction. “They left the bungee cord on. Now, if only the door hinges don’t collapse on us again. . . Better stay back.”

  “And wear hazmat suits?” Mariah said. “I’m sorry I missed that yesterday.”

  She and Sam backed into the bedroom doorway furthest from the stairs as Teddy climbed up and gripped the end of the bungee cord. It was only meant to hold down cargo, so it wasn’t too elastic, just enough for her to tug while she backed down the stepladder. Sh
e’d rather not crack her head open if the stairs fell down again.

  The attic door slowly swung open as if on well-oiled hinges. “Someone fixed the sucker?” Teddy asked, staring at the perfectly ordinary wooden treads, almost disappointed at the lack of purple dust.

  “Not that I’m aware of, but anything is possible,” Mariah said. “Just seeing Kurt eating in the café yesterday was a first, so maybe the vampire hasn’t completely consumed his soul, and he actually accomplished something useful.”

  Teddy let that comment pass by. Ghosts, yes, vampires, no way.

  Mariah studied the open ceiling. “You first. I have ghost-catchers I can put up there if it’s safe.” She waved the leather bag she’d been carrying.

  “Kurt was actually pretty handy yesterday. I’d like to hear his story someday.” Teddy rattled the stairs. They seemed solid.

  “It’s nothing interesting.” Sam peered up the ladder. “His father died when Kurt and Monty were still kids. His mother had to take over running the resort. There was a huge scandal about his father’s bank and mortgages and whatnot, lots of lawsuits. She held things together while Kurt and Monty finished college, but by then, Lance’s architectural firm had gone under. Kurt had been helping out at the lodge as best as he could while taking classes, so instead of using his new architecture degree, he just took over from his mother.”

  “What was the crack about his mother yesterday?” Teddy asked, stepping on the ladder and bouncing to test it with her weight.

  “She’s an emotional vampire,” Mariah said without inflection. “She sucks the souls from anyone she comes in contact with. She’s drained Lance as much as the drugs have. She’ll do the same to Kurt and Monty if they don’t find some way of getting rid of her.”

  Well that explained the earlier vampire crack. “I never know whether you’re being literal or metaphorical,” Teddy complained, climbing higher.

  “Carmel Kennedy is pretty darned scary,” Sam admitted. “It’s been much more peaceful around here since they sent her to Hawaii to recuperate after the fire. Even Lance is emerging from his shell.”

  Teddy climbed high enough to stick her head into the dark attic. “I need a flashlight. I can’t see a switch or lightbulb or anything else up here. There should be one on the dresser in the room on the left of the stairs.”

  Sam called “Got it!” and Mariah came up the stairs after Teddy, carrying the small light.

  Mariah switched on the beam as she reached the top and whispered, “Holy crap, she’s sitting right there. That’s one damned strong ghost.”

  Below, Valdis began to howl. Prince Hairy took up the tune.

  Warned by his brother that the Lucys were gathering in Teddy’s shop, Kurt parked in the town lot and strode up the boardwalk. An operatic howl reverberated from the two-story building at the end of the walk—Valdis. Even though he knew she was only a crazy, he had to fight a shudder at the mournful wail. Or was that the dog?

  He stopped to greet one of his regular guests emerging from the café.

  “You have a little theater group going over there?” A Hollywood director, he had good reason to make that assumption.

  Kurt tried not to roll his eyes or scare off the paying customers. “Opera, actually. I have no idea what they’re performing.”

  Apparently not an opera fan, the director grimaced and strode on to his Escalade. Kurt hurried across the street.

  How had he been reduced to keeper of an insane asylum? He was supposed to be transforming San Francisco’s deteriorating historical buildings into models of modern energy-saving beauty. Instead, he was shutting up maniacs to prevent tourists from fleeing the resort in droves. They’d lost enough business with the fire. The whole town would be unemployed and bankrupt if they had to close the resort.

  Responsibility for the town his father had destroyed weighed heavy on his shoulders and ground his molars to dust. If he could just get the rehab project off the ground and ease out from under the restrictions of the resort his mother controlled. . . soon. The financing was almost in place. He’d drive the first bulldozer over Teddy’s shop himself.

  Kurt entered to find the older Lucys gathered around the old oak table, hands connected while the dog howled. Valdis droned in an odd voice about killing and crystals and art. Yeah, right.

  Without offering a greeting, Kurt took the stairs up to the second floor, knowing that’s where he’d find Teddy. At least she wasn’t one of the crazies.

  Standing at the bottom of the attic ladder, Samantha whistled a warning to her partner in crime. Teddy’s head appeared in the ceiling opening.

  Kurt scowled up at her. “You’re supposed to wait for Walker.”

  “Walker can’t talk to ghosts. Hush. Let’s see if Mariah can.”

  So much for thinking she wasn’t one of the crazies. Kurt rolled his eyes but kept quiet and waited at the bottom of the stairs in case anyone flew down them. The two women overhead murmured, but he couldn’t make out their words.

  Below, Valdis wailed, “It’s here! It’s right here! Can’t you see? It’s proof that he killed me!”

  “The apparition is gone,” Mariah called down. “She could be circling Valdis.”

  Right, circling ghosts talking to a wailing banshee made total sense. “I’m coming up.” Kurt glanced at Samantha. “You joining them?”

  She looked torn but finally shook her head. “I probably ought to check on my aunt and Cass. They may be slightly off-balance, but they’re all the family I have, besides you and Monty.”

  He hadn’t really given much thought to Sam’s orphaned state except for how her arrival had affected his plans for development. He really was a self-centered prick, but that’s how he survived. “Family holidays ought to be entertaining,” he acknowledged drily.

  His niece actually brightened. “I can just imagine Thanksgiving up here!”

  “I was thinking Halloween at Cass’s place, Thanksgiving at ours. Walker will want football.” That was about all the small talk he could manage. He headed up the ladder to the tune of Sam’s laughter. If they had to adopt a stray relative, Sam wasn’t a bad one to take in. He could just hope she didn’t go looking for her birth mother, who was bound to be another Lucy.

  Mariah was sitting cross-legged at the top of the stairs, shining the flashlight around the eaves while Teddy crawled about in the path of the light. Kurt had a good glimpse of her rounded posterior in well-worn jeans before she sat back and waved at him.

  Yesterday’s bathtub sex wasn’t a scene he would forget anytime soon, but he respected her refusal to indulge again. Regretted, yes, but he didn’t want to sue the woman he was sleeping with.

  “So far, nothing but squirrel nests and ancient insulation. Take a look at that rafter though.” Teddy pointed up and Mariah obediently turned the light to the overhead beam. “Looks like one of the original logs, doesn’t it?”

  Fascinated despite himself, Kurt stood up to examine the blackened center rafter. He had to bend his head to keep from conking it. “Possibly. They may have salvaged material from the original structure when they built this one. It’s probably an old redwood log. Wood like that won’t deteriorate in the weather conditions up here. This attic is little more than a tent with a roof.”

  “In other words, it will be hot as Hades up here in another hour,” Mariah said. “I’m hanging my nets, then scooting. Your ghost or pixie dust has raised poltergeists all over town. I’m needed elsewhere.”

  “Thanks for braving the elements and resident spook,” Teddy told Mariah as Kurt took the flashlight. “If this all wasn’t so improbable, I’d wait for Walker to search for a skeleton under the floorboards. I can’t believe you actually see her.”

  “It’s unusual, granted,” Mariah acknowledged, fixing a ghostcatcher near a vent. “I’m thinking your pixie dust has permeated this place and created unusual circumstances.”

  “Ground crystal,” Teddy corrected. “Crystals have power. I just haven’t encountered any that produces apparition
s before.”

  Kurt searched for signs of the weird dust from yesterday, but the team had sucked up every trace as far as he could tell. He began testing the old planks underfoot while holding the light on Mariah so she could finish her netting.

  Teddy continued poking into the narrow spaces along the eaves, but Kurt couldn’t follow her and help Mariah at the same time. He was relieved when the ghostcatchers were hung and feather-headed waitress departed.

  He swung the light back to Teddy and all those luscious curves he’d dreamed about all night. He understood why she hadn’t let him share her bed, despite their mutual hunger. Women were simply less logical about basic needs. A man would stick a hunk of meat over a fire and call it a meal. Women wanted spices, recipes, roasting pans, and a roof to protect the fire before they’d start cooking. Sex—got even more complicated.

  “The walls could conceal more of the original house,” Teddy said, dragging him from his reveries. “Tearing down an historic structure like this would be criminal.”

  “There is nothing historic about rotting lathe and shingle siding. A good wind could shake this place apart, and it’s not fire or earthquake protected.” Of course, the building had stood here for decades. . .

  She was twisting his head around. Kurt turned the flashlight on the far corners of the attic, looking for insect or animal damage. The floorboards were old, too, also salvaged from an earlier structure. Damn. Redwood was nearly indestructible and too costly these days to replace.

  “The planks are loose over here,” Teddy called, still crawling around in the far corners.

  Quelling his libido, Kurt swung the beam to where she crouched. “That looks more like plywood. Back off before it crumbles.”

  She backed away but continued prying at it.

  Below, Walker called up, “Couldn’t wait for me, could you? I hope you aren’t destroying any evidence.”

  “Of what?” Kurt called back, moving out of the way so the deputy could climb up. “You sucked up any footsteps with the pixie dust.”