The Fifth Sense

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “Thirty it is,” he said. “I’m forty-seven, by the way. So I guess that makes me the old man.”

  “Hardly.” She paused to look around the shop. A light came from a back room. He flipped on a light switch. “I’m forty if we’re disclosing.”

  Saying her age made her think of her birthday. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “I love the smell of this place,” he said, misreading what she was doing.

  His comment turned her attention back to the shop. The smell of ground coffee permeated the air. It was a great smell. Wood plank walls enclosed the narrow space, or at least from what she saw of the walls from behind the paintings. Almost every inch was covered. Rows of homemade jelly had been stacked into a kiosk next to a matching display holding tea tins. Pyramids displays towered higher than most customers could reach and showcased coffee cups with the store logo and soy candles. Handcrafted jewelry had been set up by the register.

  “It’s a great shop. You have a little of everything,” Sue said.

  “Thanks. I can’t take credit for everything. Most of it is here on consignment. The paintings, jewelry, and candles all come from local artists. A lady makes the jams to supplement her retirement. On busy days, she sells baked goods. A ceramist outside of town makes the mugs for me. A kid at the High School screen-prints the t-shirts.” He smiled. “I love that it’s become a sort of artistic beacon for the town. We even had a hand-drawn greeting card vending machine out front for a time, but the guy who owned it moved and took it with him.”

  Maybe it was the smell of coffee and candle wax that gave the impression of coziness, but the shop felt homey and safe.

  “Sue?”

  Sue blinked and turned to him, realizing she hadn’t been listening. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  “I asked if you wanted some coffee. Nothing fancy, but I have a pot on,” he said.

  “Coffee at midnight?” Sue thought for a moment and then smiled. “Why not? We’re adults, aren’t we? We can do whatever we want.”

  Jameson grinned as he went around the counter and poured her a cup. He set it down.

  “Oh, I don’t have—” Sue didn’t bring her wallet.

  “It’s a gift.” He lifted his mug toward her. “To living dangerously and drinking coffee at midnight.”

  “To living dangerously.” Sue placed the keys on the counter and then lifted her mug to take a sip. At the last minute, she stiffened, worried that it might taste like liquor. Thankfully, it didn’t. For a moment, she’d been able to forget who she was. “Delicious, thank you.”

  “Jameson set his mug down and slapped his hand lightly on the counter. “Okay, back to counting.”

  He lifted a remote from behind the register and pointed it at a stereo. Instantly, classic rock sounded over the store speakers. He disappeared into the office only to return with a clipboard.

  “I thought this is why bosses had employees,” Sue said, leaning against the counter as she drank her coffee.

  “Stu had a gig tonight,” Jameson answered. “I don’t mind. It only takes a few hours.”

  Jameson went to the teas and began counting tins by pointing his pen at them. He moved it in time with the music, and she wondered if he was aware that he kept the beat.

  When he paused to write down a number, Sue approached. “You’re right. This is fascinating work.”

  Jameson laughed.

  “Not to brag but I happen to be an excellent counter,” she said.

  “Oh, yeah?” He grinned.

  Sue nodded.

  He motioned toward the coffee mug pyramid. “Mugs?”

  “On it, boss.” She gave a small salute.

  “I see, you’re trying to muscle Stu out of a job.” Jameson laughed.

  “Not if that means the morning shift.” Sue went to the pyramid display. “I’m a midnight coffee girl now.”

  “So what do you do, if I can ask?”

  “I…” Sue furrowed her brow. “I don’t know. I guess I’m looking for work.”

  “Oh yeah? What are you looking for?”

  “I’m not sure.” She grinned. “Cat burglar, maybe? I have the shirt for it.”

  Jameson nodded, laughing as he tapped his pen against the clipboard. “Fair enough.”

  They fell into a comfortable silence as they both counted. When she finished the mugs, she started on candles, then moved to jams. Soon they were working their way around the entire store, counting inventory, drinking coffee, dancing and singing softly to classic rock. Once, Jameson even took her hand, twirling her to the music as he walked past her.

  “And we’re done,” Jameson said, standing up from the floor. He crossed to the counter and put the clipboard down. “Thank you for your help.”

  “No problem, I actually had fun.”

  “Actually?” Jameson chuckled. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

  “Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I’ve enjoyed doing inventory.” Sue slowly followed him to the counter. “I’ve just had a rough few months, and this was…” She looked around the store. “It’s been nice not having to think about it.”

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  Sue shook her head.

  Jameson walked around to the back of the counter and reached under the register. He pulled out a loyalty card and began punching it with a coffee cup-shaped hole puncher. When he finished, he signed his name on the back and handed it to her. “I think you earned this free latte.”

  Sue liked that he didn’t pressure her to talk. Whenever they hit a sensitive topic, he sensed it and changed the subject. Conversation with him flowed, but even more importantly, silence with him was easy.

  Sue detected the kindness in him. After years of Hank, she’d become an expert at spotting meanness in people. She didn’t always trust herself, but with Jameson, she felt she could trust him.

  Sue took the card from him and grinned. “Thank you. I think I’ll come back in the morning and get that latte. I kind of want to meet Stu.”

  “Into the younger guys?” He teased as he put the hole puncher away, but she saw the curiosity in his expression as he listened for her answer.

  “No.” Sue laughed, and he looked relieved. “Musicians.”

  “Oh.” Jameson’s head tilted back as he laughed, the sound welcoming. “I guess I better dust off my guitar before I ask you out.”

  The ring on her hand tingled as if prompting her to pick up the offer. “Couldn’t hurt.”

  Jameson took their coffee mugs and carried them to a sink. “I’ll remember that.”

  “I should be getting back.” Sue started backing up toward the door.

  “I didn’t see a car outside. You need a ride somewhere?”

  “Heather Harrison is letting me stay at the movie theater,” Sue said.

  “You’re staying in the theater?” He quirked a brow.

  “The apartment, upstairs,” she corrected.

  “Ah.” Jameson kept his eyes steadily on her. For a moment, she thought he might offer to walk her home. “Then I guess I’ll be seeing you around the neighborhood.”

  Even though she was a little disappointed when he didn’t, it was probably for the best. Walking someone home felt too much like the end of a date.

  Sue picked up her keys from the counter and lifted the card to give him a small wave. “Thanks for this.”

  “Thanks for your help.” Jameson watched her leave.

  Once outside, she moved from his eyesight and let loose a long breath, and grinned as she danced in a little circle. Ace still sat in the bookstore window, watching her. She tapped her finger on the glass and said, “I owe you one, buddy.”

  Then remembering the security camera watching the area, she ducked her head in embarrassment and hurried down the sidewalk and around the corner. Once she was out of sight of the security camera, she stopped. Her heartbeat quickly, and she had a hard time catching her breath. At first, she thought it might be a panic attack, but she was too happy.


  Giddy. She felt giddy, like a freaking teenager waiting for a prom date.

  It had been a long time since she’d been excited that the feeling almost eluded her. For so long, she’d been living day to day, moment to moment, focused only on survival.

  Was the house clean enough?

  Would the food be done on time?

  Did she have enough time to fix her makeup before the oven timer went off and Hank came home?

  Moment to moment, every one of them scheduled. Day to day, each one formulated to make someone else happy. But was Hank ever really happy? He had some kind of demon in him, one that drove him to drink, one that made him care too much about appearances.

  Already she could see Jameson was not like that. He didn’t check his appearance in reflective surfaces. He didn’t constantly straighten his clothes. She hadn’t noticed such little things on those first dates with Hank that came to mean so much.

  Her marriage had not been love. It had been a prison sentence, a dark hole without air, without windows or light, without hope. The idea of going back to St. Louis, of stepping back into that house, terrified her. She couldn’t walk back into the cell. She couldn’t talk to Kathy and hear the woman praise her captor. She couldn’t smile while people told her how great a guy Hank had been, how she was one of the lucky ones.

  It proved people didn’t know the pain others carried. They saw a façade. They saw what they needed to see for their lives to make sense. But there was no such thing as a perfect couple, a perfect family, an ideal life. There were always secrets.

  Thoughts of her past dampened her spirits. Would she ever escape the voices in her head? She wished there was a way to sever the thread leading to her memories.

  Sue paused at the theater door to unlock it.

  “You should be ashamed of wearing that ridiculous outfit in public.”

  Sue gasped, dropping the key on the sidewalk. She turned, expecting to see her dead husband behind her. The street was empty.

  Headlights passed on the cross street, and she assumed Jameson was leaving work. She took a deep breath. It was late and thinking of her past had made her jumpy.

  Sue’s hands shook as she picked up the keys. She gave a short laugh and tried to dismiss the nervousness. “Maybe midnight coffee wasn’t the best idea.”

  “You think I don’t know what’s in that head of yours?” The sound of Hank’s whisper was joined by the unmistakable smell of his bourbon breath. “Wishing you could spread your legs like a whore for any man who smiles at you.”

  Sue gave a small yelp of panic and fumbled to unlock the door. As she pushed inside, she saw the faintest reflection of Hank’s face in the glass. Sunken, dark eyes glared at her.

  Sue screamed as she stumbled inside. The weighted door slowly pulled itself closed. She stared through the glass at the sidewalk beyond.

  Breathing heavily, she was too afraid to move. She didn’t take her eyes from the door. She knew what she saw. The image of Hank’s face lingered even when it no longer showed in the glass.

  “I’m not crazy. I know what was there. I’m not crazy,” she whispered. “It’s all real. Ghosts are real.”

  The smell of the cologne did not follow her inside, but still, she couldn’t force herself to move away from the doors. Who did a person call in a situation like this? The police? They’d think she was mental.

  Sue glanced briefly at the security camera and then back to the sidewalk. She waved her hand frantically, hoping to get Vivien, Heather, or Lorna’s attention while not taking her eyes away from the door. The odds of them being awake were slim. After several seconds, she turned toward the camera only long enough to mouth, “Help me.”

  Chapter Eight

  “She’s here!” Vivien’s announcement came from behind.

  Sue screamed in fright at the sudden voice, grabbing her chest. She’d been searching each tiny reflection in the theater’s front door for so long, lost in fear, that she hadn’t heard them come from the alley entrance.

  “Oh, hey, easy, easy,” Lorna soothed as she rushed toward her. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “We’re here just like we told you we would be.”

  “I’ll check the theater,” Heather stated.

  “I got the back rooms,” Vivien added.

  Both women hurried to their self-assigned tasks.

  “What happened?” Lorna asked.

  Sue pointed a shaking hand at the door. “I saw…”

  “What? What did you see?” Lorna hugged her tighter, and Sue started feeling a little better.

  “Hank,” Sue finished.

  “You saw your dead husband? Where?” Lorna looked around the lobby.

  “I went for a walk outside, and when I came back to unlock the door, I smelled him, then I heard him, and then I saw him in the glass.” Sue took a steadying breath. “Reflected in the glass.”

  “But nowhere else?” Lorna kept her voice calm.

  Sue shivered. “I don’t know. I came in and watched, but I didn’t see him come in.”

  “Storage room and office are clear,” Vivien said. “I can go check upstairs.”

  “No, Viv.” Lorna stopped her and pointed toward the doors. “He was outside.”

  “He? The husband?” Vivien asked.

  “Do we have to keep calling him that?” Sue whispered. “As far as I’m concerned, my vows ended at ‘til death do us part and not a second longer.”

  “We can call him whatever you want,” Vivien stated. “I’m partial to the asshat, but asshole, twat waffle, and little fuckety-fuck-fuck, all work too.”

  To her surprise, Sue laughed. She hadn’t thought anything could make her feel better after seeing Hank, but somehow these women had. It was then she realized that both Vivien and Lorna wore pajamas. Vivien had on shorts under a bathrobe and sneakers, and Lorna wore flannel pants and fuzzy slippers.

  “Did you see me on the camera?” Sue asked.

  “I had Troy set up a motion alarm to alert us if anything happened in the lobby. He’s a college professor in charge of setting up the online curriculum for—it doesn’t matter right now. He’s all about the tech. Anyway, I saw you go out for a walk earlier, and then it woke me when you came back. I promised you we’d be here for you.”

  As creepy as the big brother thing was, Sue was grateful in this instance.

  “Come to think of it, that was one long walk you took,” Vivien said. “Where did you go?”

  Sue thought of Jameson.

  “Is that…? Are you turning red?” Vivien grinned. “Oh, please tell me you were out on a booty call.”

  “What? No!” Sue shook her head. “I just arrived in Freewild Cove. I don’t know anyone. Who would I booty call with?”

  “Um, I’ve never found the length of time to be an issue,” Vivien said. “If you want booty, there is someone who will call for it. Trust me, a beautiful woman of experience like you? No question. You can get plenty of booty.”

  “Stop saying the word booty,” Lorna mumbled.

  “Booty-booty,” Vivien teased.

  “Woman of experience? Is that a nice way of saying I look old?” Sue glanced down at her cat shirt. “Because I feel old and frumpy.”

  “Hell no,” Vivien said. “Forty isn’t old. You’re just getting started baby!”

  When Sue began to ask how she knew her age, Vivien cut her off.

  “Yeah, we looked at your driver’s license when you passed out,” Vivien confessed, not sounding sorry. “We were trying to make sure you didn’t have any medical alert cards or medication you needed in your purse. So, as I was saying, forty isn’t old. These are our years of perfection. We’re experienced enough to know our minds. All that drama that comes with youth no longer matters. So what if my ass has an extra few pounds? It’s a great ass.”

  “Uh, I think that’s my line,” Lorna interrupted with a laugh.

  “Yours is a great ass too,” Vivien said.

  “Thanks.” Lorna shook her head, more amused by the speech tha
n anything.

  “Where was I?” Vivien asked.

  “Great asses,” Lorna prompted.

  “Right. Sue, you’re not old. You’re a seasoned professional at this thing we call life.” Vivien circled a finger in the air and struck a sassy pose.

  “Is Viv doing her ode to sparkling vaginas again?” Heather appeared from behind the curtain. Like the others, she was in pajamas—a long flannel nightshirt and leggings with black house shoes.

  “No, tonight we all have great extra-pound asses,” Lorna answered.

  “Ah. Good to know.” Heather chuckled.

  Vivien grinned and said, “Now that you mention it, there is nothing wrong with a little bedazzling on the—”

  “And on that note,” Lorna interrupted. “How about we get back to the matter at hand? We’re here for Sue. I’m sure she has questions.”

  “Why is this happening?” Sue instantly asked now that they had refocused. She looked at each of them in turn.

  “That’s an excellent question.” Heather motioned that they should follow her. “I’m set up if you’re ready.”

  “Set up for what?” Sue asked.

  “To see if we can’t find out why this is happening to you,” Vivien said, turning Sue’s question back on her.

  Lorna tried to walk Sue toward the amphitheater.

  “Do you mean a séance?” Sue asked, refusing to budge. “I thought you didn’t do that here anymore.”

  “Not publicly,” Vivien stated. “We still do them. Don’t worry. We’re getting pretty good at it, and summoning Julia is a fairly safe bet. We were going to wait a few days until you settled in, but considering tonight’s paranormal activity, it’s probably best to get this show on the road.”

  “Fairly?” Sue clung to that one word.

  “We’re going to call Grandma Julia so all of you can see her,” Heather said. “I could ask her and translate, but I think maybe this is something you need to hear for yourself. Seeing is believing, after all.”

  “Julia Warrick?” Sue shivered, rubbing her arms.

  “The one and only.” Heather went back behind the curtain.

  “I’m going to grab candy out of the storeroom for after,” Vivien said, leaving the lobby.