Murder Lifts the Spirits

by Margaret C. Morse

  Jake took my hand, examined the palm, released it. "I'm more interested in your interaction with Linc than your mask. You may have a healer's talent."

  Me, a healer? I was a fighter, an advocate who went into court to grapple with the opposition. A healing talent would lengthen my training at the ranch. Healers had to undergo extensive education and evaluation to ensure they could control their powers. I wanted my treatment plan to focus on a fast mastery of my magic and a quick return to my law practice.

  Every complication meant a speed bump on my road out of the ranch. I stifled an urge to ignore the healing-power issue. Since Jake knew of it, I'd have to face the problem. Focus: find other suspects in Cullen's murder, fast track my magic training, and settle this healing-talent question.

  While I fretted, the others fussed about to clean up and collect their masks. I checked to see how Adrian was responding to my possible role as a benevolent healer.

  She scowled. "I don't like it that's she's using Cullen's eye color."

  Wyatt moved to her side. "It's a tribute to Cullen. Tonight you and I will work on a mask for you to wear at the grief session. Jake and I will determine your consequence for creating the fireball."

  Red crept up her neck and suffused her face. "My mask, unlike hers, will properly honor Cullen."

  Staff needed to give her a stiff consequence. I decided not to wait for her to thank me for preventing the fireball from hitting her back.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Wednesday

  After breakfast while I stayed in the dining room to meet with my lawyer, the others went off to work on their training. Vidoc and Ira did Tai Chi exercises on the patio. While they moved in graceful and measured gestures, I treated myself to an additional slice of toast loaded with peanut butter. Ira, wearing shorts and a tank top, provided a nice visual treat as he performed the slow, rhythmic exercises. I was licking peanut butter off the knife when my lawyer, Chris, strolled in sporting a shirt that advertised Wizards Against Injustice, the group that advocated for those of us with magical powers.

  He waved at Vidoc and Ira and sat opposite me. "What's happening?"

  I sipped coffee to jog my brain. "The cops came. I didn't talk to them." Chris had a busy schedule, so I needed to be concise. "I found out other people had serious issues with Cullen, and I remembered my promise to you not to speak his name." The last statement was technically true. I'd remembered Chris's order. I hadn't obeyed it.

  "Do you know if anyone told the cops about the people who had problems with him?" Chris asked.

  "Dawn said she did. She did a preemptive strike and told them about problems her boyfriend, Adrian, and Jake had with Cullen. Do you want all the sordid details?"

  When he nodded, I provided a condensed version of their issues. "Oh," I added, "we're having grief counseling this morning."

  Chris stood up and frowned. "You can't go."

  I wanted to attend. I had my own feelings to work out. Plus, it would be an emotional event that could reveal how people really felt about Cullen. "I have to participate. If I don't go, it will look like I'm not being respectful of his memory."

  Chris's bushy brows climbed halfway up his forehead. "You can't. It's absurd. When you go around the circle and talk about him, you'll have to invoke your right to remain silent. It'd be a waste of time."

  I stood, shoving my chair back so hard it tottered and almost fell. "I'm not an idiot. Of course I won't make any incriminating statements."

  "If you don't go, then I know you won't make any statements at all. It's too chancy. As your attorney, I advise you not to attend. If you're not going to follow my advice, there's no point in me representing you."

  A rush of anger cleared my head better than coffee. Wait. Didn't Chris and I have this power struggle yesterday? I needed Chris on my side, although I hadn't expected him to be so bossy. And he was right. It would be silly to attend and then invoke my right to remain silent. "Okay, I won't go."

  "Promise me you'll behave."

  "I promise." For what it was worth.

  * * *

  While everyone participated in the grief ceremony in the barn, I stayed in my room. I wished I'd been able to hear the residents and staff talk about their feelings. Up to now I'd been so worried over my role as a suspect I hadn't taken time to mourn Cullen. Seeing how others expressed their grief might have helped me understand my own feelings. I was also missing an opportunity to see if anyone acted strangely or displayed signs of guilty knowledge of the murder.

  If only I hadn't been so brusque with Cullen when he'd asked for advice on his underwear contract. It's okay to set boundaries, but I'd been too dismissive. I hadn't listened to him. I should've congratulated him on getting such a good chance to further his modeling career. And worst of all, I'd been no help when the demon attacked. Couldn't I have moved faster and pulled Cullen away from the shaft before it pierced him? My puny spell hadn't blocked the spear. I'd just watched. If I'd screamed right away, the people on the porch might have run faster. Stop. I was rubbing salt in my mental wounds.

  Better to distract myself by doing some legal work. I had a deadline coming up and needed to finish a report to the court on the progress of a client in treatment. The facts were all in my head ready to go. I poised my fingers above the computer keyboard, ready to produce my compelling prose. Nothing. My hands dropped to my lap.

  As I scowled at the computer, I felt the silence in my room and the rest of the ranch house. I was alone. Usually talk and laughter rattled around the place.

  Jake had put a spell on my door so an alarm would sound if I left the room during the ceremony. He said it was for my protection. No one could claim I'd sneaked out. Confined in this quiet space I should be able to think.

  I looked around the room for inspiration to write my report. Blaze and Loki perched on the mantel. Together the two birds opened Loki's spell book and hopped about on a page. They stared at the words as if memorizing them. Rather than focusing my thoughts, observing them sidetracked me as I wondered how they communicated.

  Little sounds broke the silence—boards creaked, and air vents sighed. I strained to hear other noises. A clank announced the start of the moving stairs. With a screech the escalator stopped. The house bounced the sound around. Perhaps someone had left the grief session because they didn't like it or had returned for a forgotten item. I wished they'd walk by my room so I could ask them about the ceremony.

  The ranch house quieted again. Stillness could be peaceful, cocooning. I'd take advantage of the calm and do some deep breathing. If I could relax, I might be able to concentrate and crank out the report. Settling on the ledge bed, I focused on inhalations and exhalations, becoming almost hypnotized by the repetitions. My arms and legs grew heavy, leaving me on the verge of sleep.

  "Petra."

  I shot off the bed at the sound of my name.

  I confronted Blaze and Loki, who still perched on the mantle. "Did you call out to me?"

  They stared at me with that unblinking beady bird look. The voice spoke again, "Petra," in a whispery tone. It seemed to come from behind me. I couldn't be imagining voices. I had to find out who'd said my name. I surveyed the room, which contained only the ledge bed, a dresser, the desk, and a chair. My laptop and the mask I'd made with Blaze rested on the desktop. I wondered if the computer had somehow broken into speech. I didn't want it talking to me, so I marched over to check it out.

  Blaze flew past me and fluttered in front of the mask, obscuring it.

  "Pee-ta-ra," he announced.

  That was it. Blaze had been practicing saying my name. Being a magical bird, he could throw his voice over to the top of the desk. The third repeat of my name had been more of a croak, different from the whisper of the first two vocalizations. Blaze was experimenting with voice tones.

  Impressed by his industry, I wanted to praise him, but before I could speak, he landed on my shoulder and blurted out what sounded like "G-way."

  "Are you trying to say 'gray'?"
Even though Blaze had magical abilities, he still needed practice using them. Speech with a bird's vocal apparatus could require some rehearsal.

  He flew over to perch on top of the mask. "G-way."

  I froze, staring in disbelief at the way the mask had changed. When Blaze had finished his work yesterday, the facial features had been roughly sketched in. Now the mask had transformed into a detailed reproduction of Cullen's countenance. I could see individual hairs in the eyebrows. His cheeks looked soft to the touch. When his eyes widened and focused on me, I yelped and jumped away, stunned by the spark of intelligence in his gaze.

  "Wait." The word was spoken hoarsely, sounding like Cullen's voice roughed over.

  "Who are you?" I would've run out because this thing could be something scary, but the resemblance to Cullen's voice stopped me. Some wizards did return as ghosts, often manifesting in photos or other likenesses of themselves.

  "You're an illusion, aren't you?' I paused to give him a chance to answer. Was I really expecting a hallucination to respond?

  "I've come back. Help me."

  The aqua eyes fixed on me. I wished I knew how to help him. "You barely sound like Cullen."

  The mask coughed and gasped. Its eyes closed. Tears slid down its cheeks.

  Blaze flew from the mask to my shoulder. "G-way."

  Go away! What an idiot I'd been, hanging around talking to this weird magical thing. What if instead of Cullen's ghost, it was like the thing that attacked him—it might've come back to make more trouble. As I bolted from the room, the shield emitted an admonitory ping that would make Jake's phone vibrate. I ran out of the ranch house, slammed the front door shut, and charged toward the barn where I could find help.

  Halfway there, Jake and Vidoc met me. They looked worried and demanded what was wrong. Their phones had alerted them that I'd left my room.

  I stopped, panting and shaking. "The mask I made yesterday. It came alive and started talking. I got scared and ran."

  Jake pulled out his phone and tapped on it. He held it so we could see the screen, which displayed my room from above. The mask was still on the desk, although now Loki stood next to it, his head cocked.

  I couldn't understand what the mask was doing. My heart pounded from my mad dash. "He spoke my name, kind of sounded like Cullen's voice. Then he said, 'I've come back. Help me.' I panicked because I thought the mask might be dangerous like the thing that attacked Cullen."

  Vidoc and Jake exchanged raised brow looks and nodded as if they'd agreed on something.

  Jake patted my arm. "The simple answer could be that Cullen's ghost has returned to the place where he died. He chose to manifest in the mask, which did slightly resemble him."

  Vidoc studied the image on the phone. "It's a good sign that Loki has stayed next to the mask. I think he would have sensed any sign of bad magic."

  Jake pointed to a bench in front of the barn. "Petra, wait there for us. Vidoc and I will check this out. The Rhamberg test will confirm if this is Cullen's ghost."

  I sat stiffly on the bench, my muscles tense from the encounter with the mask. Using my phone, I searched for a definition of the Rhamberg test, which the internet kept bringing up as the Romberg test. Blaze perched on my hand and watched the screen as if he could read. I'd heard of the test but didn't know the details of the spell. It required a skilled wizard or witch who used the dead person's name to summon the ghost to swear to his identity. I put my phone away.

  "That's way out of my league. Blaze, why did you tell me to go away if it was a ghost, not a demon?"

  Safer.

  His squeaky voice inside my head had clearer enunciation than when he tried to speak out loud. Now he could tell me things privately, which could be useful. A bit discouraging to me that a little magical bird could do mental communication already and I couldn't.

  What was going on in my room? I was still hyper from the mask coming to life and squirmed on the bench. I stared at the ranch house, willing Jake and Vidoc to come out and tell me what happened.

  If Cullen's ghost had appeared in the mask, what did that mean to his murder case? He could tell us if he suspected anyone. Well, I doubted much would come from that since Cullen thought everybody loved him. But he had asked for help. If I'd been murdered, I'd be extremely anxious to find out who killed me.

  Here's how I could try to atone for my failure to save Cullen. My quest to find other suspects could have a higher motive than helping myself—I'd see that justice was done for Cullen.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  After a very long forty-five minutes, I jumped up when Jake and Vidoc approached the barn, the mask floating between them. The mask's eyes were closed, and the other features calm. Jake and Vidoc beamed.

  "We both did the Rhamberg test," Jake announced. "We spellbound the spirit to state its true name. It is Cullen."

  I stared at the mask, wondering at Cullen's emotional state. He had to be shell-shocked, perhaps unable to understand his new form. It must take some time to absorb that you've died and come back as a spirit. "Does Cullen know what's going on?"

  "He's in a fragile state," Jake said. "He's absorbing the shock of the changes he's experienced. Right now he knows his name and seems to recognize people but isn't up to conversations."

  So I'd have to wait to ask Cullen if he knew who killed him. "What can we do to help?"

  Jake pointed at the mask and levitated it over to the barn door. "We're going to use T.K. Twinnings' plan to help a ghost settle in. We start by surrounding him with familiar faces. That should help to ground him. Kai has been prepping the residents in the barn. They know Cullen's ghost has returned. We'll let them pass before Cullen's mask. We'll be cautious about having them say much. Speech might be overstimulating."

  I stepped toward the barn entrance. "Won't people freak out?" Like I'd panicked and run.

  Jake paused with his hand on the door. "They haven't had time to adequately process, but it's important to work with the ghost at once and not let him fade away. Kai has an exceptionally soothing personality and has done her best to prepare them in a short time. Some of the residents do have experience with ghosts who returned to their families. Ready?" When I nodded, Jake continued, "Petra, you join the other residents, and then we'll come in with Cullen."

  In the barn's central area, the residents sat on the gray cement floor in a half circle that faced the entry. Their masks had been piled up in one of the cubicles. Their excited chatter quieted as I entered and took a place next to Ira. His eyes sparkled, and he smiled, squeezing my hand. Most of the other residents shared his happy, pleased expression, but a few looked anxious, biting their lips, frowning, and gripping their knees. I could understand both reactions. I was pleased that Cullen had returned to us as a ghost yet worried that I'd fail him again. And it would be disconcerting to interact with a face on a mask not connected to a body.

  I did a quick scan of faces to see if I could discover any signs of a guilty conscience but gave up when the mask floated through the entry, followed by Jake and Vidoc. All our attention riveted on Cullen's mask hovering six feet above us. He looked so real, so alive, with his skin glowing and his hair dipping on his forehead. He opened his eyes and directed his aqua gaze down on us. I shivered, moved by the spark of intelligence or perhaps recognition. Others made sudden gestures, reaching out or pressing hands to their chests. Gasps and murmurs traveled around the half circle. Dawn smiled, yet tears trickled down her cheeks. Next to her, Linc frowned as if Cullen's reappearance angered him. I cried along with Dawn.

  Adrian leaped up and flung her arms toward the mask. "Cullen, talk to us!"

  Kai put her hand on Adrian's shoulder. "I understand you're excited, but remember, we don't want to overwhelm Cullen. Please sit down and be as calm as you can for his sake."

  Adrian sat with an athlete's graceful ease. "I want to help him."

  Linc reached for Dawn's hand. "Let's be logical and look at things from Cullen's point of view. If Cullen sees people crying, he might
think we're sad that he came back."

  Dawn pulled her hand away. "I was crying because I was worked up, not because I was sad. Cullen would understand."

  Jake nodded reassuringly at Dawn. "Focus on your emotions. Respect reactions different from yours. I plan to install the mask in the backyard in the area sacred to the Mother of Mercy. She will guide us and nurture Cullen. Does anyone have a question or suggestion?"

  Adrian waved her hand for attention. "When the mask is in place, have everyone walk by it and pause. That will give us all a chance to stimulate him in a good way. I want to see if and how he reacts. Do you all agree?"

  The residents nodded and called out, "Good idea!" Adrian had been so angry with me that I was surprised she could settle down and come up with a reasonable plan.

  After a brief huddle with staff, Jake announced, "Everybody line up from the patio into the dining room. When you're in front of Cullen, we think it's okay to speak briefly, like your name and a greeting."

  The residents chattered and clustered behind Jake. As he pointed at the mask to levitate it, the eyes closed, eliciting murmurs of disappointment.

  When I started to follow the crowd to the backyard, Adrian blocked my path. Ira had walked on but then turned and waited far enough that he couldn't easily overhear us.

  Adrian placed her hands on her hips. "The real reason I want everyone to pass by Cullen is to analyze his reactions. I'm betting this is a way to turn up suspects in his murder. If he reacts strongly to someone, that could be a 'person of interest.' That's what the police call a suspect." She loved crime shows and had wanted to be a cop but hadn't passed the psychological assessments.

  I knew she'd watch closely when I walked by the mask. "I don't follow your logic. What basis do you have for this procedure? And what if he reacts strongly simply because he liked or disliked someone?"