“You’re fine now. Go.” She pushed me gently toward the front door. “But think about what I said. You won’t be able to stop the dreams, the feelings, the visions, but you can learn to use them. You can learn to control them, so they don’t control you.”
Regaining my sense of manners, I shook her hand. “It was nice to meet you—again.”
I ran to my Jeep, jumped in, and locked the door as if I could somehow lock out the feeling that I would never escape from the expectations of my mother.
17
Pushing all thoughts of Neila Whittle and my family out of my mind, I focused on the problem at hand, which was how to get Dylan out of jail and find closure for Diana.
I texted Seth and told him to meet me out in the street in front of my mom’s house. I wasn’t ready to talk to Vi or my mother yet. I didn’t know whether Mom was in on this latest attempt to make me “accept my destiny,” but I felt like avoiding both of them for now. Turning the corner, I saw Seth and the dogs loitering at the curb.
“What’s with the stealth?” Seth said after he loaded the dogs and buckled his seat belt.
“Let’s go get Alex and see what we can find out about Rafe,” I said.
Seth shrugged and said, “You’re driving.” One thing I loved about Seth was that he was always up for whatever came along.
Alex was more difficult. It took a bit more explaining, coercing, and downright whining to get him to leave the restaurant and get in my Jeep. It was well after the lunch rush so he didn’t have that excuse but liked to have a plan in place before gallivanting off on an adventure. Since I didn’t have a plan, it made convincing him problematic.
“Let’s just figure it out when we get to Rafe’s house. We have to do something,” I said when I finally had him moving toward the Jeep.
He stopped on the sidewalk and peered into the vehicle’s windows.
“I’m not sitting in the back with the animals,” Alex said.
Seth sighed and got out of the Jeep. “Be my guest,” he said, sweeping his arm toward the front seat.
“Which Hardy Boy are you?” Alex asked.
“Hardy who?” Seth pushed the dogs out of the way and folded himself into the backseat. “Is that a new group?”
Alex sighed and shook his head. “Why don’t you Google it?”
“Not that interested, dude.”
I turned on the radio to stop the bickering, and headed north.
Rafe had lived in a small bungalow on the outskirts of Grand Rapids. One of those neighborhoods unsure of whether it was moving up or down in the world. Adorable cottages with flowers in the window boxes and fresh paint on the porches sat next to houses with boarded-up windows, peeling paint, and broken rakes and lawn mowers in the yard. I parked one block over just in case a vigilant neighborhood watch was in place.
Rafe’s small house was painted a cheery yellow with white trim. He had crammed an herb garden and a flower garden onto his small lot. On this leaden, cloudy day, the brown plants and scattered leaves looked forlorn. The house had already settled into benign neglect. Flyers for pizza delivery and cleaning services cluttered his welcome mat. Leaves skittered over the porch and down the steps. The windows were dark and reflected the gray of the sky.
Diana had told me there was a key above the windowsill to the right of the door. I found it easily and slid it into the lock. I hesitated a moment before turning it, feeling guilty about intruding into this man’s life. Then I remembered Dylan and twisted the small piece of metal with a satisfying click.
Alex glanced nervously up and down the street. “Are you sure this is legal?”
Oblivious to our conversation, Seth’s head bobbed to his iPod soundtrack.
“No, I’m not sure,” I said. “There’s no police tape or note on the door saying to stay out. We have a key. I think we would be able to talk our way out of any trouble.”
“Maybe in Crystal Haven where you have Mac twisted around your finger, but not here in Grand Rapids,” Alex said.
I put my hands on my hips. “I don’t have Mac twisted around anything.”
Seth snorted. Maybe he was less oblivious than I thought.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Alex said, and stepped inside.
It felt like a violation to walk into the house without the owner there. All of his belongings watched us, waiting to see what we were up to. Literally. Artwork of various pagan gods and goddesses followed us with their eyes. A quick perusal of the living room revealed Rafe’s altar draped in a deep rust cloth embroidered with a pentagram. Pumpkins, gourds, and candles sat on top. I recognized the arrangement from Diana’s house. She always decorated with seasonal items as well. She explained it was a way to bring nature into the house.
“What are we looking for, anyway?” Alex asked. His eyes darted warily from item to item.
I shrugged. “I’m hoping we’ll know it when we see it.”