Pall in the Family

I closed my eyes for a moment and must have drifted off. I saw my grandmother’s face, smiling at me, nodding. She held something up for me to see. It was a book, but I couldn’t make out the title. Holding it out, she gestured that I should take it. She clearly wanted me to do something with it, but I didn’t know what. Then she vanished, and I heard Tish’s voice saying, “Take Baxter.” The congregation’s singing startled me out of the reverie, and I stood to join them.

 

I thought I knew what my grandmother was saying. She wanted me to read her journal and look for ways to increase the likelihood of psychic insights, not block them. I wasn’t thrilled at the prospect but, for Tish, I would try.

 

*

 

Afterward, I waited outside for Alex and Diana. It was a bright, warm day. There was just enough of a breeze to rustle the leaves. I caught myself smiling at the fresh scent of cut grass before the thought that Tish would never enjoy another day like this stopped me cold. My chest squeezed. I couldn’t breathe for a moment as the loss washed over me.

 

I scanned the crowd and spotted Alex talking to Josh. They looked dazed in the bright sun. I had my hand up to shield my eyes, and when I turned to look for Diana, I almost elbowed Cecile Stark right in the face. She jumped back and looked at me accusingly.

 

“Cecile, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” I was saying that a lot to Mrs. Stark.

 

“It’s okay, Clyde. I’m sure you’re distracted.” She was stunning today in a tight black sheath dress probably meant for someone twenty years younger, and a black straw sun hat. Her eyes were clear, her makeup perfect. She looked like she was attending a stylish wedding, rather than the funeral of her neighbor.

 

“Have you seen Mr. Worthington?” I asked.

 

“No, not today. It seems I’ve seen everyone else, though.” She took a deep breath and blurted out, “I heard you’re helping the police with their investigation—that you know who killed Tish and Sara and are helping to make a case.”

 

My mouth dropped open against my will.

 

“What? Who told you that?”

 

“Everyone knows, Clyde.” She put her hand on my arm and squeezed. A sharp pain in my stomach caused a wave of nausea. It must have been the heat and the lilies. “There’s no reason to be shy. Jillian is telling everyone that you’ve come back to take over the family business, and your first big feat will be to find whoever did this.” Her smile was all teeth and didn’t reach her eyes.

 

“That’s not true.” I shook my head as I started a mental list of all the things I would say to Jillian.

 

“Oh, then you don’t know who did it?”

 

“No.” I removed my arm from her grip and rubbed it where her nails had dug in.

 

“Hmm. Well, that’s probably for the best. It seems to me someone is trying to keep people quiet. Tish and Sara were the best psychics in town. Maybe they knew something they shouldn’t have. Maybe being psychic is dangerous.”

 

“Am I interrupting?” Diana glanced at my arm and then at Cecile.

 

“No, no. Just saying how much I’ll miss having Tish as a neighbor,” Cecile said as she fluttered her fingers and moved off into the crowd.

 

“What was that all about?” Diana’s eyes were red; her mascara had smeared, so she had the look of her goth days.

 

“Just Cecile being her usual strange self,” I said as I watched her move through the crowd to make her way back to Joe. I remembered Tish telling me that Cecile had taken classes on and off for years to improve her intuition, and they never helped. It was hard to live in Crystal Haven with no discernable psychic ability; there was a subtle line between those who could and those who couldn’t. Tish used to say that Cecile just tried too hard.

 

“It was a nice service, don’t you think?” Diana stepped into my line of sight.

 

“Yeah, Tish would have liked it.”

 

Alex had spotted us and walked over in time to hear the small talk. “Listen, when I die, I don’t want a funeral. Just have a big party and get drunk. You promise?”

 

“I don’t plan on dealing with that anytime soon, Ferguson,” I said.

 

“Well, we could have a practice run right now. I could use a drink after that. Josh has to go back to work, but I’m off today.” He put an arm around each of us and turned us away from the church.

 

“I need to meet with Rupert Worthington, Tish’s lawyer,” I said.

 

“What, right now?” Diana stopped.

 

“He wanted to meet me here. Maybe Tish had plans for Baxter. I don’t know what Seth will do if we have to ship that dog off somewhere.”

 

“Surely not. Who would take him?” Alex said. “You don’t even want him, do you?”

 

I started to answer when I spotted Rupert weaving his way through the crowd that had spilled onto the front steps of the church. He was red-faced and moist when he stopped in front of us, his shirttail had escaped from his pants, his suit jacket carried that “rolled in a suitcase” aura.

 

“Hello, Ms. Fortune. Do you feel up to meeting for a few minutes?”

 

“You aren’t going to take the dog away, are you?” Alex stepped between us. Who knew everyone was so attached to the big slobbering lug?

 

“No, I have no intention of doing anything with Baxter. He’s quite a . . . handful.”

 

“Meet you back at the house?” Diana asked.

 

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