Discovering (17 page)

This morning, she had been planning to tell Evangeline on the way to school about the detectives. But then they started talking about Jacy, and about Cornell, and then Blue gave them a ride, and she didn’t get the chance.

Now that the meeting is imminent, she’s not sure she’s in the mood to discuss it.

Then again, Evangeline knows something is wrong.

And sometimes, she reminds herself, it helps to talk about things. Lately, her tendency has been to keep things bottled up until her emotions explode every which way. That’s not good for anyone.

And the Lily Dale gate is visible just ahead. Time is running out.

“So, remember how I told you that I had to talk to the police back in Florida about what happened?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, they’re here now, and they want to talk to me again. And I’m kind of scared.”

“About what they’re going to tell you?”

“About that,”she takes a deep breath, “and about what I’m going to tell them.”

Quickly, she fills in the details Evangeline didn’t already know about the baby, about Darrin’s murder and the connection to her mother’s.

“Wow, Calla.”Evangeline drapes a supportive arm around her shoulders. “Do you want me to come with you to talk to the detectives?”

“No, I know you have your Crystal Healing class in a little while.”

“I can skip it.”

“No, you should go. I’ll be okay. My grandmother will be there.”

“What about your dad?”

Calla shakes her head. “He doesn’t know .”

“Don’t you think he should?”

“Yes, but I don’t want him to hear every last detail. At least, not from me. If he’s there, I know I won’t be able to talk.”

“I don’t think I would, either. Wow, Calla. Poor you.”

Yeah. Poor me,
she thinks.

But she forces a smile at Evangeline. “I’ll get through it. Things can only get better, right?”

“Definitely.”

They’ve reached the gate, which is untended at this time of year. As they pass the gatehouse, Calla is surprised to see a man sitting there. Then she realizes he’s wearing Victorian clothing, and isn’t exactly solid.

He tips his hat at her with a smile, and she can’t help but smile back.

“Hey, what did Blue want to talk to you about this morning?”Evangline asks. “Wait—don’t tell me. He wants to go out with you again, right?”

“Wrong.”

“Really? Because I figured that the second he saw you with Jacy, he’d want you back.”

“He never had me,”Calla points out.

“Yeah, funny how he didn’t realize that, don’t you think?”

She doesn’t know what to think about Blue, and right now, he’s not the Slayton she’s worried about.

“Evangeline, he said his father wants to talk to me about my mother.”

“Whoa.”

“I know .”

“That’s pretty amazing. When it comes to David Slayton, there’s no fooling around. He totally means business. Unlike his son.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Blue Slayton is a big fat fraud. I’ve been hearing people say that for years, but I figured they were just jealous. Nope. He’s about as psychic as that rock.”

She gestures at a large boulder on the side of the road. As she looks at it, Calla sees a familiar impish figure materialize on top of it: the little Depression- era kid she’s seen a few times now.

He balances on one foot, pretends to lose his balance, then turns and grins at Calla, clearly taunting her.

Half amused, half irritated, she turns away.

“You don’t know for sure that Blue isn’t psychic,”she points out to Evangeline.

“Come on, I just pointed out that if he were so psychic, he would have figured out that he didn’t have you wrapped around his finger like all the other girls, and maybe he would have figured out that you were into Jacy, too. But he didn’t, did he? Did he ever even ask you about it?”

“No,”Calla admits.

“And did you hear the stuff he said about your Florida trip? I mean, you weren’t exactly lounging around on the beach in a bathing suit, were you?”

“No, but—”

“If Blue had any intuition, he would have sensed that you weren’t okay. I mean, it’s not like I’m the best medium in town— or anywhere close— but even
I
had a feeling something was wrong last weekend.”

“I know .”

“So why didn’t he?”Evangeline doesn’t wait for a response. “I’ll tell you why not. Because he fakes his abilities.”

“I never heard him say he was a medium,”Calla points out. “It’s not like he’s got a shingle hanging with his name on it.”

“No, but people are always saying he’s, like, the son of this supergifted medium.”

“I thought people are always saying he’s a fraud.”

Evangeline shrugs. “Different people say different things. You’ve hung out with him. What do
you
think?”

“I think it must be really hard to be Blue Slayton.”

And she’s got to get in touch with David Slayton as soon as possible.

Blue gave her his cell phone number but warned her that he doesn’t like to keep it turned on when he’s traveling and doing readings. He says it interferes with spirit energy.

“Well, does he check his messages?”she asked, wondering how Blue feels about not being able to reach his father if he needs him.

“Usually. But not every day.”

Great. David Slayton is in England through the weekend, conducting a series of psychic seminars. If he doesn’t get her message before she leaves with Dad on Friday after school, she’ll have no choice but to wait until Monday and wonder what he can possibly have to tell her about Mom.

There’s an unfamiliar dark sedan parked at the curb when Calla reaches her grandmother’s house.

“They’re here,”Evangeline observes. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?”

No. She isn’t sure at all.

But Evangeline has her class to go to, and anyway, Odelia’s car is here, too. She’ll lend moral support if Calla needs it.

Who is she kidding?

She’ll definitely need it.

“I’ll be okay,”she tells Evangeline.

“Call me later and let me know how it goes.”

“I will.”

“And tell them everything, Calla. They need to know .”

“I will,”she promises again, and steps out from beneath Evangeline’s umbrella.

Looking up at the house, she’s reluctant to go in. But it’s raining, and she can’t linger out here another second without showing up drenched.

She makes a dash for the porch, hearing Evangeline call, “Good luck!”after her.

Opening the front door, she prepares herself for the grim mood that will undoubtedly greet her on the other side.

Instead, she hears raucous laughter as she steps into the front hall.

That must mean she was wrong about the car out front; the detectives aren’t here yet. Maybe a friend stopped by to visit Gammy. Or a walk- in client with a great sense of humor.

“That was a good one, Odelia!”a male voice is saying, and another male voice emits the kind of sigh one emits after laughing really, really hard.

Okay, two walk- in clients with great senses of humor. Both men.

Frowning, Calla pokes her head into the living room.

The first person she spots is Odelia.

Then rotund, balding, mustachioed Detective Lutz.

And finally, lanky Detective Kearney, whose Irish green eyes are dancing merrily as Calla’s grandmother launches into another joke.

“How about this one? A man walks into a salami shop with a parrot on his—”

Calla clears her throat loudly.

Gammy stops talking abruptly and all three of them look over at her.

“Hello, young lady.”Detective Lutz hastily gets to his feet.

“Hello,”Calla returns politely, then asks her grandmother, “A salami shop?”

“Never mind. Calla, you remember Detective Lutz and Detective Kearney, right?”

“Yes.”She shakes both their hands, hoping they don’t notice how clammy her own is.

“How have you been doing since you got back?”Detective Kearney asks. With his blond crewcut and his good-natured smile, he reminds her of someone’s big brother.

“I’ve been great, thanks. How have
you
been?”

He chuckles. “Just fine. And your grandmother is quite the comedian.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”Odelia shakes her head modestly.

“We spoke to your father earlier today,”Detective Lutz announces, obviously wanting to get things under way.

“You did?”Calla looks at her grandmother in surprise. “I didn’t know that.”

Odelia nods. “Your dad wanted to be here now, but I told him you might feel more comfortable without him here.”

Uh- oh. “What did he say?”

“He said that was fine, and actually, the detectives told him they would prefer to speak to you privately.”

“What about you, Gammy? Can you stay?”

She looks at the detectives.

Uh- oh again.

“It’s better if we speak to you alone,”Kearney says. “Don’t worry. We won’t bite.”

“I’ll just be upstairs if you need me,”Odelia says, and disappears after planting a kiss on the top of Calla’s head.

“We just want to ask you a few more questions, if you don’t mind having a seat,”Detective Lutz tells her, not unkindly, but with the same no- nonsense demeanor she found intimidating back in Tampa.

He moves from the chair he was sitting in to another that’s closer to the couch, saying, “We’ve been speaking to your friends Patsy and Bob.”

“They’re not really my, um, friends,”she corrects him. “More like . . . you know . . .”

“Acquaintances?”Kearney supplies, and she flashes him a grateful look, nodding.

“They were both very sorry to hear about what happened to you.”

They know too, now?

Well, of course they do. How else were the detectives supposed to question them?

Calla figures it’s only a matter of time before the news reaches the high school gossip mill. People are going to be asking questions she might not feel comfortable answering.

So what else is new?

“Did Sharon Logan confess to killing my mother?”she asks, hoping the answer is yes. Who knows? Maybe she’s already told them what happened to Darrin, too. Then Calla won’t have to—

“No,”Kearney tells her, “she hasn’t said anything.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Not a word. No one can get anything out of her. She’s basically checked out.”

“Wow. That stinks.”

The detectives look at each other.

“What if she never talks?”Calla asks. “Do you have enough proof of what she did so that you can keep her in jail?”

“We’re working on it. Don’t worry.”That’s Kearney, of course.

Don’t worry?

What if that woman gets out of jail and comes after her again?

Noting the look on Detective Kearney’s face, Calla realizes he’s thinking the same thing. So much for big-brotherly reassurance. “So, Calla— Lily Dale is quite an interesting place,”Detective Lutz says, as if that’s news to her.

“Yes, it is,”she agrees, not sure what else to say.

“I’ve never personally worked with a police psychic before, but a lot of detectives do.”

Kearney nods vigorously—so vigorously that Calla wonders if he’s worked with police psychics himself.

“Are you using a police psychic?”she asks. “You know, on this case?”

“Oh, no. No.”Lutz’s chins waggle as he shakes his head. “I just want you to know that we’re taking very seriously what your friends—your acquaintances—told us.”

“Did they tell you something new about Sharon Logan?”

“Not exactly. But there does seem to be some kind of consensus that she might have committed another serious crime before she came after you.”

“You mean, that she killed my mother? Because—”

“No, before that,”Kearney tells her. “Both Patsy and Bob mentioned—independent of each other—that they sensed another death around Sharon Logan.”

“I know whose it was.”

The detectives look at Calla in surprise.

She pulls the folded death notice from her backpack.

“His name,”she says flatly, “was Darrin Yates.”

SEVENTEEN

New York City
Thursday, October 11
4:59 p.m.

Sitting behind the receptionist’s desk, bare except for a message pad, a pen, and a gigantic vase filled with waxy white calla lilies, Laura answers the incessantly ringing telephone again.

“Good afternoon, Overseas Corporate Funds, where may I direct your call?”

“Extension one-five- two, please.”

She transfers the call and glances at the clock as she presses the next line. “Good afternoon, Overseas Corporate Funds, where may I direct your call?”