Topaz Dreams

by Patricia Rice

  His aunt had never had a sweet day in her life. It was all Kurt could do to keep from swinging around in disbelief—why the effing hell had he thought he could help this confusing array of people? But as he glanced from one grave face to the other around the room, he grasped what they were doing, almost.

  The Lucys were playing Lonnie, just the way he had been. If the weird glow in their crystals was any indication, they were doing more than that.

  He ought to get the hell out of here before his head—or Lonnie’s—exploded. Teddy’s hand on his arm kept him pinned to the seat.

  Lonnie took a big bite of his donut and gagged it down, as if trying to keep from answering. Mariah came along and refilled his coffee cup. He followed the donut with a long drink and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin.

  “Anyone who knows Lucinda Malcolm around here is a saint,” Kurt said, taking an insane leap of faith and gesturing for Mariah to refill Lonnie’s plate. “I’m buying. Tell us everything.”

  Lonnie’s tortured anger, greed, and fear pierced Teddy’s brain and twisted her into knots. This was why she’d never explored her abilities—they hurt too damned much. Leaving the door open forced her to suffer all the volatile energy spiking through the room, from Val’s rage, Mariah’s inexplicable need for vengeance, Walker’s hunger for justice, to Sam’s curiosity and sadness. And all that emotion demanded that she act, without the skills to cut through the confusion.

  But she needed to know who the skeleton was in her attic and if Lonnie had anything to do with it. She had to stay open and concentrate.

  “I don’t know nothin’,” Lonnie protested in answer to Kurt’s question. “I just sell pots.”

  Teddy read his spike of anxiety. Underneath all the other Lucy reactions, she experienced an odd energy similar to the one surging through her last night when she’d ordered Assbutt to freeze. She wished she’d brought her walking stick with her. A good glowing red crystal would frighten the heck out of everyone, except the Lucys.

  A couple of people slipped out the door. She immediately sensed Sam’s absence, and possibly that of Walker’s mother. Sending them away was probably a smart move on the chief’s part. Sam would want to ask about her mother, and that would only distract from the essential investigation of Thalia’s death. And Jia didn’t need to be here to see the Crazy, if it happened.

  “We’re setting up a pottery display along with the artwork,” Kurt said affably.

  Teddy could tell he wasn’t happy with questioning a potential murderer, but he was the perfect person to do it. Walker needed evidence before leaning on the weight of his authority. The rest of the Lucys were too biased and lacked the ability to dissemble. But Kurt was a Null, the kind of wealthy man who was beyond suspicion—and he had years of practice in diplomacy.

  “I’ll have to take a look,” Lonnie mumbled. “You the one gotta pay out on the lawsuit?”

  “Trust fund,” Kurt said with a vague wave of his ringed hand.

  The mahogany obsidian she’d woven into the gold glowed almost as nicely as the Lucy’s crystals—except she’d carved it without facets. So what did that mean? The stone was supposed to protect his heart—against his mother’s depredations. She’d hoped that opening himself up to her today showed that he trusted her with that protected heart. Did that mean he was trusting that she had his back now?

  Crystal lessons were hard to learn.

  “What the hell does that mean?” Lonnie asked, sounding a little more belligerent.

  “The town has a trust fund,” Teddy said brightly. “From old lawsuits, land sales, whatnot.” She waved her hand in the same vague manner as Kurt had. “The lawyers handle it. We’re restoring the mural, did you notice? Thalia did some really nice work. I wish she were here to tell us how she did it. An art dealer says it’s a priceless asset.”

  “She did?” Lonnie finally looked interested. “You got a dealer up here to appraise things like them panels?” He pointed at the photographs.

  Teddy could feel Kurt turn ruthless, and she shivered. Here was the Null businessman she really didn’t want on her doorstep. She was glad he was after Lonnie and not her house right now.

  “We had to put the panels in a safe. They’re apparently rare examples of Lucinda Malcolm’s work. If we only had the third panel, we could buy the entire mountain and turn it into Disneyland if we wanted.”

  Teddy hid her wince behind her coffee cup. Lonnie’s greed soared straight through the roof. The Lucys. . . almost vibrated. If the Nulls wanted to sell those panels. . . mountains would crumble in the war that would ensue.

  She really needed to shut down before she fried her brain. She resisted. She had to learn to use her gifts.

  Harvey and Aaron slipped in through the front entrance. Teddy felt their arrival but didn’t glance over to verify their energies. She was starting to wear a little thin staying open this long.

  “Is there a finder’s fee if someone uncovers the third panel?” Lonnie asked, studying the painting behind the counter—the one his wife had apparently worked on with Susannah.

  His greed contained distinct threads of villainy. Did he think Kurt was a sucker who would buy a fake if he conjured one?

  What if he wasn’t manufacturing a fake? Teddy felt a cold chill down her spine.

  “I’m sure a finder’s fee could be arranged. We just never thought the panel could be found,” Kurt said generously.

  The door opened and another customer entered. Kurt turned to nod at his brother, the mayor. Had Sam warned him what was happening? Teddy couldn’t feel Monty’s presence, but he sauntered over to join Walker in his booth. He was as Null as Kurt and blocking like crazy.

  Mariah carried over coffee without being told.

  “Lisa kept that old panel,” Lonnie said with satisfaction. “It showed her leaning against my wagon. We thought those old panels was just junk, so we took that one with us.”

  Twenty-nine

  July 2: afternoon

  * * *

  Lonnie had the third panel?

  Kurt placed his arm over Teddy’s shoulders before she could levitate off her stool. Even he felt as if he could hack the tension in the room with one of Dinah’s butcher knives.

  Glancing around, he noticed walking sticks tilted toward Lonnie, their crystal heads now glowing in varied colors. How the hell did they do that? Or better yet, what were they doing?

  “Interesting,” he said flatly in response to Lonnie’s declaration. That the bastard actually possessed a valuable piece of art wasn’t so important as what he’d just said was on it. “So Lisa was your girlfriend in the painting?”

  “Yeah,” Lonnie said uneasily. “We got tired of living up here and decided to take our work down to Monterey, where the money is.”

  Young Lisa leaning against the car as Lonnie packed up to leave—and old Thalia coming down the mountain lugging Lonnie’s pottery like a slave, able to see it all. He and Monty choosing that moment in time to decide to claim their inheritance and set up a town hall, thereby releasing the artwork that had been lost. That was one hell of a painting Lucinda had dreamed up.

  He might have to start believing in Lucy absurdities—once he had time to work through the logic of them. Now wasn’t that time.

  “I think I know your gallery,” Aaron said conversationally from his seat at the end of the counter. “I’ve been researching Hillvale pottery. You have quite a few pieces, don’t you?”

  Lonnie spun around, apparently relieved by this direction. “I do. I’ve got Peterson, Williams, Arthur, all of them, if you know the names. I used to work with them up at the kiln, before it blew.”

  Cass held her teacup as if it were the queen’s china and gazed haughtily over it. “Your wife was still living when you took the panel to Monterey with your girlfriend?”

  Apparently his aunt had tired of the cat-and-mouse game. Kurt wanted to leap in, smooth the sharp jab over, but Teddy caught his arm and squeezed. What was she trying to tell him?

  Lonnie
turned a darker shade of red and his reply was even more belligerent. “That’s the way things were done back then. You’re old enough to know.”

  “That’s the way things are still done,” Teddy said lightly. “But if you divorced Thalia, then it’s her heirs who inherit any moneys from the lawsuit.”

  Kurt blinked. He was pretty sure crystals gleamed hotter all over the room. He wanted to hide in the back with Dinah. There was a reason he stayed at the lodge and didn’t participate in town activities—he had more than enough crazy in his life.

  “I’m her heir,” Lonnie said hotly. “I was all she had.”

  That was an outright lie if Teddy’s mother was Thalia’s cousin. There was probably more family as well.

  “There you go,” Kurt said, hiding a sigh and joining in. “With a will and a death certificate, you’ll be fine as far as the lawsuit goes.”

  Lonnie obviously struggled to get his words out. Kurt tried not to study the way the thief’s face twisted as if he was having difficulty moving his tongue. Kurt took some comfort in knowing that Teddy wasn’t aiming her weird wand at anyone.

  “I ain’t got. . .” Lonnie shoved another donut in his mouth.

  He didn’t have what—a will or a death certificate? Not if that had been Thalia abandoned between the floorboards. Considering the deed selling Teddy’s place to his corporation might have been falsified by this asshole, Kurt went all out and ratcheted the interview up another notch.

  “Would your girlfriend be able to find the paperwork for you? She could bring it up here with the panel, let our experts verify the painting’s authenticity.” Kurt thought if he drank any more coffee, he’d start throttling the man for answers. He wanted this over and done.

  Lonnie looked a little craftier as he considered the suggestion. “Sure, ain’t often we get rich. You got cell service up here yet?” He took out his phone and glared at the lack of bars.

  “Mountains block the towers,” Monty said from Walker’s booth. “Is she Lisa Thompson on Via Vista in Monterey?”

  Looking panicked, Lonnie spun on his stool. “Who are you and how do you know that?”

  Monty shrugged. “I’m the mayor. I’m the one who has to pay out the money. I have wi-fi. I can e-mail her if you give me her e-mail address.”

  Kurt figured Monty and Walker were in collusion on that one. Walker wore his best poker face, his heavy lids lowered and his mouth flat. But his thumbs were flying over his phone—as police chief, he had the password to the same wi-fi network as Monty. As owner of a major investigative firm, he had minions to hunt all the Lisas of a certain age, with prior addresses in Hillvale, currently living in Monterey. That she’d taken Lonnie’s name even if they weren’t married had made it simple. Throw in an arrest record or two. . .

  “Nulls work in mysterious ways,” Teddy leaned in to whisper, apparently discerning the same thing as he had.

  “And what exactly are the Lucys doing?” he asked, probably churlishly.

  “Don’t know exactly, but it’s making him talk when he doesn’t want to. I can feel his panic rising but he seems stuck. Keep at him.”

  That was an impossible assertion, but Kurt had no problem acting on it. “We’re opening the art walk this weekend,” he said, looking for ways to encourage Lonnie to talk. Appealing to greed usually worked. “If we had that triptych complete, we’d be an overnight sensation. Property values will soar. That will increase the funds the lawsuit can draw on.”

  Well, if they were creating fictional suits, they might as well have fictional parameters.

  “I’m not just handing over that panel,” Lonnie protested, apparently relieved to have a direction he understood. “If it’s valuable, I need to have it appraised.”

  “No one can sell it without proper provenance,” Cass said coldly from her booth. “Not even Hillvale, although our records show Lucinda gifted the panels to the town.”

  That was a lie too. All they had were Thalia’s notes. Hillvale wasn’t a proper town fifty years ago, just a gas station and a hippie commune and apparently, a lot of ghosts in vacant buildings.

  “Lisa don’t look at e-mail,” Lonnie argued, a trifle weakly. “I have to call her.”

  Mariah returned from Dinah’s office carrying a cordless landline receiver, but Teddy shook her head, and the waitress surreptitiously slipped it into her apron pocket.

  When Teddy stood up, Kurt had the appalling notion that he was reading her mind. He slid off his stool and blocked her. She smiled and patted his chest, and he really thought throttling might relieve his steam.

  “Don’t you dare,” he muttered.

  “Trust us,” she murmured, gesturing at the other Lucys rising around the café.

  Trust manipulative Cass and the Lucys? He really was out of his friggin’ mind. But if Teddy was a Lucy. . . And he wanted Teddy. . . A good psychologist might help, but to hell with it. This was more fun than he’d had in a long time. This time, he meant to join the party, if only to keep an eye on Teddy.

  He’d loved watching her when she was just a red-haired, gap-toothed six-year-old sprite spinning around the room. Buoyed by this discovery of his hitherto unknown rebelliousness and unnerved by Teddy’s intentions, Kurt draped a possessive arm over her shoulder as she tapped Lonnie on the shoulder and played him like a fish.

  “Come along. I have a land line you can use. This is the most exciting thing this town has ever known. A Lucinda Malcolm panel! I can’t wait to see all of them together. Do you think we’ll need security guards?”

  She was surrounded by Lucys with big sticks. Even Walker and Monty got up to guard her back. And Kurt’s instincts still wanted to fling her over his shoulder and run. . .

  Which was when he realized he believed that Thalia was really a ghost—and Teddy was leading Lonnie to slaughter.

  She had him believing in ghosts! And things that went bump in the night.

  Which meant he either had to believe Teddy—and the Lucys—knew what they were doing, or give it all up and retreat to the resort and his comfortable, quiet niche, undisturbed by the improbable. He could buy a few dissatisfied guests drinks, sign a few checks, talk to a few more bankers about developing the fire-scarred hill. . .

  Kurt followed Teddy.

  So did Lonnie.

  Teddy wanted to shout and leap with relief when Kurt stayed at her back this time. She was scared out of her mind, but she had to do this. They hadn’t been making any progress with Lonnie back there, despite all the forces they’d brought to bear. The time had come to up the ante—and the danger, admittedly. She could hope Thalia had worked off most of her energy last night, and that she’d just fling a few of Daisy’s guardians around.

  But just in case. . . She sacrificed her own safety net by whispering to Kurt. “Check that Syd and the kids are still out, please. And don’t let them come in.”

  He glared, stepped aside from the crowd pouring from the café, and signaled his brother. They conferred, and Monty sauntered off to take an alley behind the shops. Kurt caught up with Teddy just as they reached the front door. He wouldn’t abandon her, even in this insanity! Her heart opened wider to this normally dignified businessman she knew wanted to be anywhere else but here.

  Feeling all his powerful steam at her side again, Teddy gathered the courage to unlock the shop. “Come on in, folks. The inventory is still sparse, so there’s plenty of room.”

  Lonnie had frozen on the boardwalk, but the Lucys relentlessly crowded him forward. He stalled at the entrance, looking panicky, but bless Kurt, he grabbed Lonnie’s upper arm and dragged the bastard inside the house he’d inhabited for ten years.

  Everyone chatted about the panel, about Lucinda Malcolm, about the art walk, while Teddy headed for the counter.

  She casually picked up the honesty necklace she’d been working on and thrust it at Lonnie. “Good vibes on this. Wear it, and we’ll hope it brings luck.”

  He dropped the leather over his head without question and clutched the stone.


  She hid the crystal handle of her staff under the shelf, just in case it started glowing. Locking her jaw, she kept her overworked senses open to danger. Lonnie was on the verge of panicking, but his greed was stronger than good judgment. She handed him the cordless landline. “Here you go. Tell Lisa we all say hi.”

  “I didn’t get your name,” he said, surreptitiously glancing toward the stairs. His greed fought with his cowardice as he held the receiver.

  She pointed at the sign outside the open door. “Teddy, as in Teddy’s Treasure Trove.”

  Kurt stationed himself between Teddy and the entrance to the stairwell. She had opened her inner Monitor and sensed his anger and need for justice battling his concern for her, but oddly, the sensation wasn’t as painful as usual. She could almost relax with Kurt’s emotional barrier to shield her. Reaching under the counter and gripping the crystal staff, she learned that drained a little of her excess energy so she wasn’t as hypersensitive.

  The Lucys scattered about the small shop, holding Daisy’s guardians, wielding their staffs. With her Monitor open, Teddy could sense that the crystals were deflecting their emotions, thanks to all that was holy. She needed more practice at this.

  The energy level in the room escalated as it could not in Dinah’s larger space. Another lesson learned, Teddy reflected—energy can be stored and magnified in crystal. As if in response, a howl formed overhead and whistled through the ceiling.

  Lonnie didn’t seem aware of it. He punched in Lisa’s number. Teddy helpfully leaned over and punched the speaker button.

  “We don’t want any,” the speaker said clearly, apparently reading caller ID.

  “Hey, babe, it’s me.” Lonnie was trying for brash, but his gaze darted nervously from Teddy and Kurt to the other Lucys. He toyed with the honesty stone around his neck.

  “Who’s Teddy and what kind of treasures is he selling?” the woman on the other end asked suspiciously.