I pull the sleeve again, but the tattoo still shows stark black on my pale skin. “I feel exposed.”
“Not exposed, revealed.” She manages to make the words sound magical as she meets my eyes in the mirror.
“I don’t want to be revealed,” I grumble.
Grandma wraps her wiry arm around my waist the way she’s done a million times before. “I know,” she says simply and gives me a reassuring squeeze. “You look more like your mom every day,” she says wistfully.
“I wish she could be here,” I breathe.
“Me too,” Grandma says sadly. “How did she seem at your last visit?”
“Tired and thin. That prison is slowly killing her. If I could just find Dad.”
“We don’t have time for that now,” Grandma releases my waist and strides across the small apartment to another plastic shopping bag she brought with her.
"I bought you shoes, too." She hands me the bag with a grin.
“No heels, I hope. I don’t want to fall down all night,” I tease.
"Sensible flats for you. But did you check out my shoes?" Grandma shows off her sparkling strap-heels and short skirt. Grandma has two modes of dress. Comfy clothes are for working in her beauty shop or on the farm. When she dresses up, it's over the top with glittering accessories and too much skin showing. I envy her self-confidence.
“You look great, as usual,” I say as I slip my feet into my sensible shoes. Below my flat-clad feet, voices fill the shop.
My belly swims. People, in general, make me nervous and crowds terrify me. My psychic gifts make me extra sensitive to the energy people give off, and I am easily overwhelmed by it. This crowd is in my personal space making it even more intrusive.
And they all came to gawk at me.
My belly clenches and I run to the bathroom, ready to vomit. I lean over the toilet, but nothing comes out.
“Just nerves, Gabriella. You’re going to be fine, I promise.” Grandma says, not unkindly.
I flush the unused toilet out of habit and watch the water swirl away, wishing I could swirl away myself. “I can’t do this.”
Grandma Dot pulls me from the bathroom. “You can do this. Now stand up straight and get your game face on. It’s just a few people interested in what you do. That room down there is filled with friends and people who want to be your friend. Stop acting like you’re headed to the gallows.”
I do as she says, straighten my back and lift my chin.
“You’ve faced down psycho killers,” Grandma goes on. “A room of nice people should be a breeze.”
Should be, but isn’t.
“You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.” I pull at the sleeve of my dress again, then run a finger along my tattoo. My fingertip tingles in response to the touch. The sudden surge calms me more than Grandma’s words.
“Ready?” she asks.
“One more thing.” I slide white dress gloves on. The fabric is thin, but provides some protection to my left hand from unwanted visions.
Grandma looks at the gloves and screws her mouth shut.
"Not negotiable."
Grandma gives me a quick hug and says, “Let’s go meet your new life.”
Chapter 3
Gabby
Slowly lowering myself down the stairs, I'm amazed at the transformation to my shop. The bare brick walls and sparse furnishings have changed into a softly lit wonderland. Strings of white lights drape along the walls, casting a soft glow. Several narrow pub tables with matching stools dot the room. The old counter is now a chic wine bar. A buffet table laden with hors d’oeuvres sits near the door.
“You’ve outdone yourself,” I whisper to Grandma Dot as we reach the bottom of the stairs.
She beams with pride, “Mrs. Mott set it up. Her nephew owns a catering business.”
“It’s lovely,” I say in awe.
The packed room teems with people. Some I recognize, many I don’t. I hesitate on the steps, looking for Lucas. He catches my eye from near the wine bar and nods.
My friend, Haley, joins me as I enter the pressing crowd. "What a turnout," she exclaims.
“Why are they all here?” I ask honestly. “Nothing else going on in River Bend tonight?”
“Right now, you’re the hottest thing to ever happen in River Bend,” Haley says. “Enjoy it. You deserve this.”
Lucas appears at my side with a glass of wine.
“Almost as good as donuts.” I take the glass eagerly. Haley taps my toe with hers and raises one eyebrow a fraction of an inch. “Oh, yeah. Lucas this is my friend, Haley. We used to work at the catalog center before I got myself fired.”
“Nice to finally meet you, Detective Lucas,” Haley purrs, her already pretty face flushing as Lucas shakes her hand.
“Hey, Haley,” I cut in. “Can you go make sure Grandma Dot has a glass of wine?”
Haley drops Lucas’ hand reluctantly. “Sure thing. Hopefully, we can talk later," she adds with a toss of her long blond hair and a coy smile.
Lucas smirks, seeing through my ploy. “Is that the friend who calls me ‘hot detective?’”
“Of course, you’d remember about that. You're so full of yourself,” I tease. “Haley’s my friend.”
The press of the crowd forces us together and Lucas says near my ear, “Your friend that you just sent away from me.” His breath dances across my ear and the nape of my neck tingles.
“Don’t read too much into it,” I reply, his body mere inches from mine.
The crowd presses around us, but their presence fades to a dull din. Lucas’ eyes cling to mine and I swim in the scent of him.
A hand clasps onto Lucas’ shoulder and the moment shatters. “Hey, Hartley, can I steal you away from my sister for a minute?" Dustin shouts above the noise of the crowd and steers Lucas away.
Although surrounded by people, I feel alone and wish I hadn’t sent Haley away. Tugging at the too-short sleeve of my dress, I wander through the crush towards the bar. This party just started, but I wish it was over already.
In the far corner, Grandma Dot chats with a few ladies I recognize as clients of the beauty shop. I envy her easy manner, sure her belly isn’t dancing with nerves the way mine is.
No one actually stares, but I catch a few side glances in my direction. Like an animal on display, I lean against the front counter and smile at the pretty red-head serving drinks.
“Nice party,” the bartender says kindly. “Are you having a good time?”
“I feel like everyone’s staring at me,” I tell her honestly and take a sip of my wine.
“You are kind of popular right now,” she says. “Drink some more wine. It’ll make you feel better.” The bartender smiles again. “It’s really good,” she adds. “Made it ourselves.”
“You must be married to Mrs. Mott’s nephew who catered for us.”
“That’s right. I'm Vee Markel. Lane and I own the Kingston Winery and we do catering as well."
I take her advice and sip the wine again. “It’s really good. Vee? That sounds familiar," I muse, trying to pluck the woman's face and name from my memory.
“We went to high school together,” Vee supplies, tucking a strand of her brilliant red hair behind her ear.
"That's right." I can't pull up a clear memory of the woman. I spent most of my time in high school alone, trying to remain unnoticed, avoiding the ridicule of being the psychic girl with a mother in prison.
Vee’s easy smile disappears as she looks behind me.
I turn at a tap on my shoulder. "Ms. McAllister?" A middle-aged woman asks shyly.
“You can call me Gabby,” I correct automatically.
The woman is so thin, her huge pile of permed curls looks like it might topple her over. “I was wondering if we could hire you.” She motions to her companion. The other woman sports a similar over-teased perm and the resemblance of mother and daughter is instantly recognizable. The daughter hangs behind her mother’s shoulder, obviously uncomfortable.
“
Sure, what can I help you with?” I turn on what I hope is professional charm.
“I’d like you to speak with my father.” The woman states simply. “He died several years ago, and I …” Her voice breaks with emotion. The daughter stares at the floor.
“You’d like to know that he’s okay?” I fill in the words for her.
“Exactly,” she says with relief. “Is that something you can do?”
“I can try. I never promise anything. I don’t control what I might or might not be able to see.”
The woman's hair bounces with her excitement. "That's okay. I understand. I'd just like to try.”
“Can you come tomorrow morning so we can discuss the details?”
The woman looks at her daughter. "We can do that. Can’t we, Lucy?”
Lucy would rather be anywhere other than here, now or tomorrow morning, but she gives in. “Sure,” she mumbles to the floor.
“Do you have something of his you’d like me to touch?” I ask.
“He’s buried in Haven Crest Cemetery. Can we go to his grave? Would that work?”
“I’ve never tried it, but I’m willing. We can just meet there, at the front gates. Is nine o’clock a good time?”
“Perfect,” the woman gushes. “I’m Annette Reed and this is my daughter, Lucy." Lucy doesn't lift her eyes from her intense scrutiny of my wood floor. Her mother reaches to shake my hand, but makes a last-moment detour to rub her palm against her own thigh. I've seen this move before and don't take it personally.
Plucking a business card off the pile on the bar, I hand it to Annette. "Please visit my website before tomorrow morning so you know what to expect," I say politely.
“Oh, I’ve already been on there lots of times,” Annette gushes. “You’re amazing, just amazing.”
Her reluctance to touch me, I’m used to. The open praise I’m not used to. Luckily, Haley appears at my shoulder, saving me from replying. “Grandma Dot says its time for you to make your speech.”
My blood freezes. "A speech? Is she nuts?"
"Looks like you're in demand," Annette says. "We'll see you in the morning."
I make a vague reply to the mother and daughter, my eyes darting to the front door. Maybe I can run away before Grandma Dot notices.
“Here,” Vee the bartender says, “Liquid courage.”
I take the offered wine glass and down the contents. Grandma Dot is sailing through the crowd towards me. Unaccustomed to drinking alcohol, the wine swims in my head along with the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
“Ready?” Grandma asks.
“You never said I’d have to give a speech,” I protest.
"What do you think all these people are here for? They want to hear from you."
My legs wobble as Grandma pulls me through the crowd to the stairs. “I can’t. You do it. This party was your idea.”
“Nonsense,” Grandma brushes my protests away. “Just get up there and thank everyone for coming. Tell them what you can offer as a service. Then say, enjoy the party and contact me if you want to hire me.” Grandma squeezes my arm gently. “It’s easy. I’ll introduce you.”
We push through the crowd, bodies jostling against mine. “Okay, but give me a minute.”
Near the bottom of the stairs, I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath. A hand grasps my bare arm, covering my tattoo. I catch a whiff of a familiar cologne and a shock sizzles up my arm. One word pumps through my mind.
Dad.
My eyes fly open, but I'm surrounded by bodies. Grandma Dot stands on the third step, the facing crowd pressing closer, eager to listen. I look for the person who touched me, but everyone's attention is on Grandma and her words that I'm not listening to.
“And here she is,” Grandma says, “Gabby McAllister.”
The attention shifts to me.
“You’re up,” Haley says near my ear.
“Did you see who just touched me?” I ask, desperate.
“Don’t worry about that now. Speech.” Haley gives me a little shove up the steps.
My mind scrambles to find words as I join Grandma above the crowd. “Uh, thank you all for coming,” I stammer, scanning the crowd for a face I know can’t be here.
Dozens of curious faces look up at me. My tongue refuses to move.
Grandma whispers in my ear, “Just tell them about yourself.”
I rub my tattoo nervously, then begin the spiel I use on clients. “When I was fourteen, I was hit in the head….”
As I speak, I scan the crowd. Every face I either recognize, or know I’ve never met them before. The buzz of my tattoo grows and I tug at the short sleeve of my dress. Somehow, my mouth keeps moving and the words tumble out. The crowd chuckles at the lottery numbers line and I relax a little.
Near the bar set up by the door, a man has his back to me. His turned back in the sea of faces watching me is enough to make him stand out.
The familiar shape of that back freezes my tongue.
A nervous ripple flows through the crowd at my sudden silence. The man moves to the door, then looks over his shoulder.
A thick beard hides most of his face, but his brown eyes are unmistakable, unforgettable. He nods slightly, then slips out into the cold. The bell above the door jingles as he leaves.
“Dustin, it’s Dad!” I shout across the crowd. “He’s getting away.” I point to the now empty door. Every head in the room turns. I bolt down the steps.
“Move! I have to stop him from leaving,” I shout at the startled crowd, pushing people out of my way.
I rudely shove my way to the front door, Grandma Dot trailing behind me. Calling, “Gabriella, what in the world are you doing?”
Dustin and Lucas get to the door before I do and I shove them outside in front of me. “I saw him! He was just here.”
Cold air blasts up my sweater dress as we tumble into the dark.
The sidewalk and the town square are empty.
I sprint down the sidewalk, desperate to find him. “Where did he go?” I shout into the icy wind.
At the corner, near the bakery, I stop running, scanning the streets, the square, everywhere.
“He’s gone,” I pant into the wind. “He was just here.”
Grandma, Haley, Dustin, and Lucas join me at the corner.
“What the hell are you up to?” Dustin barks. “Jesus, Gabby. Dad?”
“I promise. I saw him. He touched my arm and then I saw him go out the door.”
The four people closest to me in the world look at me with varying expressions of pity.
“Maybe today was too much on you,” Grandma says gently, steering me back up the sidewalk.
"I…." I don't know what to say. Shame and embarrassment burn through me as I shiver in the cold.
Lucas awkwardly pats my shoulder. “I’m sure you thought you saw him, Gabby.”
Dustin storms ahead of us, grumbling, “I knew this was a bad idea. Officially your Grand Opening and you’ve already managed to embarrass the family.” Dustin reaches the small crowd outside of my shop. “Nothing to see here,” he says like the cop that he is. “Miss McAllister just had a momentary excitement. Everything is fine now.” He ushers the onlookers back inside.
Miss McAllister? He’s really ticked.
I want to go home, climb into bed with my cat, and forget the last five minutes ever happened. But I have a room full of people to deal with first.
“Do you want me to say something to the crowd?” Grandma asks as we re-enter the party.
“No, I’ve got this.”
Without a trace of nerves now, I climb back up the steps and face my confused future clients. I can't make a bigger fool of myself now than I just did. My business and my livelihood are at stake.
“Whoo,” I start. “Sorry about that.” I give the crowd a wide smile. “You may have heard I’m a bit, what’s a nice word for it? Crazy?” A nervous ripple of laughter. "I think the wine we're serving is a little too good." Chuckles now from the crowd and I kno
w it will be okay. "Vee," I motion to the bar, "Get the wine flowing, and let's get this party started." Vee holds up a bottle, playing along. "Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight and enjoy."
I hurry down the steps and say to Grandma, “Was that okay? Everyone likes wine right?”
“You did fine, Gabriella,” Grandma soothes. “Do you want to tell me what that was all about now?”
I shake my head, “Not tonight. Maybe it was just too much wine.”
Grandma narrows her eyes. “Uh-huh.”
“Go back to your friends and have a good time.”
Grandma reluctantly disappears into the crowd, leaving me alone with Lucas and Haley. “Wow, Gabby, never a dull moment with you,” Lucas says.
“I try. Can we just pretend it never happened?” I ask them both.
“Let’s get something to eat. Mrs. Mott’s nephew did a great job with the food,” Lucas says and leads the way to the buffet table.
Haley taps my elbow as she follows. “Uh, Gabby?” she tucks her hair behind her ear nervously. “I saw the man you were talking about.”
“You did?”
“He had a beard and wore a leather coat?” I nod. “He brushed by you right before your speech.”
Chapter 4
Gabby
I’m glad I set my appointment with Annette and Lucy Reed at the cemetery instead of at my shop. After last night’s humiliating run down the sidewalk, I’m in no hurry to return. The party turned out okay, all things considered.
Dustin left early and hasn’t returned the apology voice mail I left him this morning. Not sure what to say to fix that situation anyway. Lucas and Haley kept me company most of the night and their acceptance makes up for Dustin’s anger.
The vents in my Charger pump stale heat into the car as I sip my coffee and watch the snow falling on my windshield in the cemetery parking lot. I have five minutes until Annette and Lucy are supposed to meet me.
If they still show up. Publicly making a fool of myself isn’t the best way to impress a new client. I drink my coffee and wait, wishing I’d eaten something for breakfast.
At two minutes till nine, a car pulls into the parking lot. Annette waves animatedly as she approaches, her full perm bouncing. Lucy trails behind, her chin tucked into the collar of her puffy coat.
Message in the Grave Page 2