When the Spirit Calls (When the Spirit... series - Book 2) Page 14

  "She was probably trying to get you angry so you'd say something she could use against you to create a headline," Erin said. "That kind of reporter usually has enemies everywhere."

  "Possibly, but why did one of them have to attack her inside our house. And what was she even doing inside our house? I locked the door before I left, so she must have broken in."

  "I can't wait to get back into the house," Megan said. "My back is aching from sleeping on Madam Elana's living room sofa."

  "Richard said it should only be for a few days."

  "Are you two still on good speaking terms?" Erin asked.

  "Yes, it was the sheriff who was pressuring him to embarrass me in front of the press."

  "If Simona and Papa Gianni stayed around to take care of unfinished business, why didn't Blakely?" Megan asked.

  "I don't know, Meg," Arlene said. "It is a bit strange. It would be really helpful if I could ask her who killed her."

  "Maybe that's why she crossed over so quickly. She didn't want to help you after you refused her interview outside the house," Erin said.

  "It seems like she'd be more interested in seeing her killer punished than in petty revenge against me because I wouldn't answer her foolish questions."

  "Why else wouldn't she stick around?" Erin said. "She's going to have an eternity with those who have crossed over before her."

  "Perhaps she was in a hurry to be reborn," Megan said. "That's right, isn't it, Arlene? You said we can be reborn into a new body if we want."

  "That's what the spirit said when she was talking through you back in 1883."

  "I wish I could hear them when they're using me."

  "I know, Meg. But we tell you everything we hear and learn."

  "Hey, maybe we can contact this Miss Blakely if she's on the other side."

  "That's an idea. I wonder if she'd come. What do you think, Erin?"

  "There's only three of us until Renee and Madam Elana return."

  "We could try with three," Megan said. "You always said the number of people in the séance wasn't as important as the person performing the séance."

  "We could try. The worst that could happen is that she doesn't show."

  "Okay," Erin said. "I'm game."

  "Me too," Megan said, "Even though I won't get to hear what she says."

  "Okay," Arlene said, "Let's give it a try. We've learned we don't need the candles or the food, but let's darken the room a little."

  Megan adjusted the illumination to level one as the three women touched pinkies and closed their eyes. Then Arlene tried to reach out to the immortal world while summoning the departed spirit of Meredith Blakely. At one time Arlene had believed the practice of touching digits was so everyone would know that no one had raised their hands to knock on the table. She now believed that making contact with the others at the table allowed the ethereal energy of the participants to unite and flow to the medium, where it could be focused.

  "We are trying to reach the spirit of Meredith Blakely, recently departed from Lake Georgina," Arlene said. "Meredith, please answer my call and speak with us."

  The minutes ticked by without any response as they waited for the spirit. After several minutes, Arlene tried to summon the spirit again. When ten minutes had passed without any reply, Arlene said, "I guess she's not coming. We should have heard something by now if she intended to respond."

  "So what do we do?" Megan asked.

  "There's nothing we can do unless she chooses to speak with us. Her mortal life has ended, so there's no way she can be forced to help us find her killer."

  "Maybe it's like Erin said," Megan offered. "She's crossed over to the immortal world and just doesn't care about this world anymore."

  "Perhaps. Or maybe she's still on this plane and just doesn't want to speak to me. Anyway, I think we're wasting our time with Blakely. If she wants to contact us, I'm sure she can find a way. We've learned that people in the immortal world can contact the spirits who haven't crossed over yet, so Blakely can send a message through Simona or Papa that she wants us to perform a séance when we have Megan available to be receptive to her communication. I suppose we'd better get back to work."

  As Arlene opened the book she had closed earlier, she suddenly stopped. "I'm sensing a presence," she said.

  "Blakely?" Megan asked.

  "I don't know. Whoever it is, the spirit is trying to mask its presence." A bit louder she said, "Spirit, you can't hide from me completely. I know you're here. Reveal yourself." Arlene looked around the room but saw no spirits. "It's not responding."

  "Why not?" Megan asked.

  "I don't know, Meg. It's trying to hide, but I can sense its presence." Louder, she said again, "Spirit, you can't hide from me completely. I know you're here. Reveal yourself."

  "If you want to speak through me, I'll allow it," Megan said. "Not that I could stop you anyway. But I'm not afraid."

  "Careful, Megan," Arlene said. "Don't invite someone without knowing who it is. It could be Kamet."

  "The demon? Why would he be here?"

  "I don't know. But whoever it is, they're working hard to mask their presence from me. I'm sensing continual changes in the ethereal flow. "Hear me, spirit. You can't hide from me. My connection to the immortal world is very strong."

  After several more minutes, Arlene took a deep breath and sighed.

  "What's going on, Ar?" Megan asked.

  "The spirit has left."

  "Left?" Erin muttered. "How can you be sure? Maybe it found a way to mask its presence."

  "No, I sensed it leaving because the energy lessened until it was gone. If it had found a way to hide from me, it should have happened all at once, like a door suddenly closing."

  "Who do you think it was?" Megan asked.

  "I don't know. It could have been Simona, Papa Gianni, Meredith Blakely, or Kamet. They're the only four spirits I would expect to find here, but I seriously doubt it would be Papa. He has no reason to hide, and we know that hiding uses energy."

  "Ar, do you think Kamet could be responsible for Blakely's death?" Erin asked.

  "It's entirely possible. If so, he'll have to rest a bit before taking over another host body. Perhaps he's doing a bit of scouting for another body he can use once he's rested."

  "I don't want him in my body," Megan said.

  "No, none of us do. But at least we'd recognize it almost instantly."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I simply mean that you don't have an evil bone in your body. If Kamet was in your body, we'd all know it instantly."

  "What about me?" Erin asked.

  "It would be a little tougher with you or Renee."

  "Are you saying I'm evil?"

  "No, of course not. It's just that Meg has such an— open and pleasant personality."

  "And I'm not pleasant?"

  "Come on, Erin. You know I'm not saying that. Wait a minute" she said with her eyes narrowing. "Why are you suddenly being so argumentative? Has Kamet taken over your body?"

  "What? Of course not. How could you ask such a thing?"

  Arlene smiled widely and said, "Just kidding, Er. I know he didn't. I would have been able to sense his presence if he had."

  * * *

  It had been slowly growing darker for an hour as day turned to night. The light level coincidentally reflected Bruce Macrone's mood. For hours he had been driving around the backwoods as he searched for an isolated place to bury his blood-soaked clothing. Having earlier purchased a small shovel at a local hardware store in Lake Georgina, he was ready to dispose of the evidence to a crime he didn't remember, but everywhere he went, there were always people nearby. Three times, in different places, he'd had the shovel out and been just about to start digging a hole when nearby campers, hikers, or fishermen made some noise and alerted him to their presence. So he'd had to hike back to his car and begin the search for another location. He knew it was imperative that he dispose of the bloodstained clothes before returning to his motel room.

/>   "Damn hikers," he muttered as he drove along a pothole-filled dirt road. "Why can't they go to Disneyworld like normal people? What is it that attracts people to a god-forsaken place like Lake Georgina? When did trees, mosquitoes, and biting flies become such a wonderful tourist attraction? I hate the outdoors. Give me a good bar, casino, or betting parlor any day."

  An hour later, the sun was completely down. After driving along a dirt logging road filled with potholes and half-buried rocks the size of a man's head for ten minutes, he hadn't seen any campfires or light from lanterns or flashlights. The sign at the road entrance had indicated it was State property that was closed to the public, and he felt he'd finally found a location where he could bury the clothing without being seen.

  The undergrowth was heavy when he found a place where he would be able to park, then turn the rental car around when he was done. He hadn't ventured more than a dozen feet from the road when he found a small clearing that might serve his purpose. He dropped the plastic bag and began to dig.

  The ground was rock-hard and Macrone was sweating profusely after only digging down about a foot. Manual labor was not something he enjoyed, so he decided the hole was deep enough. After retrieving the plastic bag from his trunk, he dropped it into the hole, then began covering the bag with the loose dirt. When he had replaced as much dirt as possible, he stomped his feet on it to compact the small mound before returning to his car. If it hadn't been so dark, he would have noticed how obvious the hiding place appeared.

  After struggling to turn the car around on the narrow road, Macrone returned to the paved secondary road, but he wasn't sure where he was. He had plenty of gas left, so he picked a direction and began driving. At some point he expected he would find signage or an identifiable landmark that would allow him to find his way back to Lake Georgina.

  * * *

  "I'm so glad to be going home," Renee said to Madam Elana as the enormous engines of the jumbo jet strained to lift the plane into the sky over the Czech Republic.

  "Me too. I'm anxious to get back."

  "I wonder if Kamet was weakened by your departure."

  "I don't know, but that's the way it's supposed to work. Especially since I'm the most powerful member of the coven."

  "If he knew we were leaving, could he have followed along?"

  "I suppose so, but he would then lose the energy of the others in the coven. With Gisela remaining there, their combined ethereal energy has to be at least equal to mine."

  "What would happen if everyone moved away? I mean— in different directions."

  "We were on the verge of doing exactly that when we learned that Oculara might be able to help banish him forever."

  "She's only a child."

  "She knows what's at stake. If all the members of the coven moved away in different directions, it would weaken Kamet, but as you've suggested, he could follow one of the more powerful members. While it might weaken him substantially, separation certainly wouldn't stop his killing. And if he only had sufficient strength to kill once each year, that death would still be on our heads. No, we have to banish him forever, at all costs. And Oculara understands that. If by her death Kamet is banished back to the Underworld, she's more than willing to sacrifice her mortal life. We all are."

  "But killing Arlene would not diminish his strength at all?"

  "According to everything we've read on the subject, his power would not be reduced at all."

  "So why hasn't he tried to kill her already?"

  "I don't know, but I wish I did. I don't mean to imply I wish her harm. It just seems that she would be the most likely target at this point. I was shocked when she called us to say a reporter had been murdered at the house you ladies are renting. It had to have been Kamet."

  "But why would he have killed a reporter?"

  "Who knows how he picks his targets. Some could be random. Perhaps Kamet was there to make an attempt on Madam Arlene's life. She had been at the house in the hour before the reporter was killed. And in order to attack someone, he has to have a host body. Maybe he left to find a host, and when he found a host body and returned, she might have been gone. So perhaps he succumbed to the urge to kill the next available victim if he couldn't attack her. Maybe just grabbing a host drains him enough that he can't do it again until he's rested, so he didn't want to waste the opportunity to kill."

  * * *

  "Why is that bitch still in this county?" Ralph Godwell, the county chairman of the majority party, shouted when the sheriff picked up the receiver.

  "This is America, Ralph, and there are still a few small limitations to my authority. If she was an indigent, she would have either left town by now or she'd be dead. But she comes from money— big money. She threatened to smother us in lawsuits if we tried to strong-arm her or even embarrass her with charges of suspicion. Check her background for yourself. She's got so many zeroes in her net worth, you get dizzy counting them."

  "If she's not gone soon, the party will be backing someone else for the position of sheriff this year."

  "I promise she'll be gone by September. She has to return to college."

  "I want her gone today. Tomorrow by the latest."

  "It's not possible without burying this town and county in so many lawsuits it would destroy our future economy. Why are you so eager to see her gone?"

  "That doesn't concern you. Just see that she's out of my county by tomorrow."

  Sheriff Canaar hung up the phone when he heard the line go dead, then leaned back in his chair, wondering why the county's political leader was so adamant when demanding the departure of the Watson woman. He decided he'd visit her himself since Dick Bolger hadn't been able to follow orders.

  * *

  "Madam Arlene," Oculara said, using the intercom system, "the county sheriff is in the office. He wants to talk with you. Shall I send him down?"

  Arlene's mind raced as she tried to think of what the sheriff might want now. Perhaps he wanted to charge her with another death? No, she thought, Kamet couldn't have recovered so quickly from the last violent episode, unless this visit is about a death prior to Blakely's. "No, don't send him down here. I'll come up to the office."

  Arlene entered the office from the rear entrance a few minutes later. Oculara then left by the door that led to the store, leaving Arlene alone with the sheriff. Canaar looked like someone who had just eaten something that was sour and unappetizing.

  "Miss Watson, I want you out of town," Sheriff Canaar said with conviction in his voice. "I want you out of town today. So go pack your things at the house you've been renting from Betty Cuzen and be gone by dark."

  In her best John Wayne imitation, Arlene said, "Get out of town by sundown, eh Sheriff? Or meet you at high noon on Main Street tomorrow?" The imitation wasn't very good, and the sheriff never smiled.

  "I'm done joking around with you, Miss Watson. You're causing a disturbance in Lake Georgina that's having very unpleasant repercussions. It's time for you to play your games with ghosts somewhere else."

  "I'm not playing games with ghosts, Sheriff, but it was a spirit from your community who turned to me for help when your department couldn't locate her body."

  The expression on Canaar's face turned even meaner. "I don't believe in ghosts, Miss Watson, but you've sucked a few people into your delusions, and that bothers me. If you're not gone by tomorrow, I'm going to arrest you."

  "On what charge?"

  "I'll think of one."

  "And my attorneys will have me out in twenty-four hours. Then I'll smother this town and county with so many lawsuits, you'll have to hire a battery of lawyers just to keep track of them."

  "Are you threatening me, Miss Watson?"

  "Not at all. In fact, I'd say it was you who was doing the threatening. I'm simply telling you how I'll respond if you carry through with your threats."

  "A jail is not a very pleasant place. Sometimes things beyond our control happen there. You're very attractive, Miss Watson. It would be a shame if some d
rug addict attacked you while you were incarcerated and scarred up that pretty face."

  "More threats, Sheriff?"

  "I'm just reminding you that things happen to people when they're in jail cells with felons."

  "I'm not frightened, Sheriff. But if something were to happen to me while I was in your custody, I'm sure you would never get reelected this fall. Between that and the lawsuits, you would be the biggest loser in this battle. Tell whoever is pulling your strings to back off, or they risk being named in those dozens of lawsuits my lawyers will be filing."

  Raising his voice slightly, Canaar said, "I'm the sheriff of this county, Miss Watson, and I'm not intimidated by the threat of lawsuits."

  "And I'm not intimidated by the threat of being arrested or harmed while I'm in your jail. Simona warned me that I would be hearing from you. Following my last little encounter with justice in this town, I contacted my lawyers. They are ready to jump into their corporate jet and be here in hours."

  "Simona?"

  "Yes, the spirit I helped. She's still here and can go anywhere she wishes. So that means she can observe and hear all that's going on. I understand she's spent quite a bit of time in your office recently. Perhaps you've sensed her presence. Oh, wait, you don't believe in spirits. But, you know, they believe in you. You can't lock yourself in your house or hide behind your office door and expect that you're not being observed. And don't think you can ever have a conversation that a spirit can't hear and report to me. Tell me, is it really true that your party chairman wanted me gone last week and is now pressuring you to make that happen?"

  The sheriff was visibly shaken as he considered what she had said, and he took a quick, nervous glance around the room before he said, "I don't believe in ghosts."

  "You should. They do have difficulty manipulating matter on this plane of existence, but they are always around us, watching and listening to everything we mortals do and say. And since I'm helping them, they report everything they hear that concerns me. It's better than having the best listening devices international intelligence agencies use."

  The sheriff took another nervous glance around the room. Turning back to Arlene, he said strongly, "This is my last warning, Miss Watson. Get out of my county."