Murder over medium, p.3
Murder Over Medium, page 3
“Now, come on. You know there’s plenty in heaven and earth than we can be sure of. I expected you to have an open mind about this. Aren’t you in the least bit curious as to what will happen?”
She had me there. I’d never even joined in at slumber parties when the Ouija board was brought out, but I was mildly curious as to what would happen tonight. “Well, I might—”
“Jade, I didn’t expect you to be up,” said Gabrielle Langdon, a sheepish grin on her face. I just stood staring with my mouth agog. My chin dropped further when Crystal Metcalf walked up behind Gabby.
“Has everyone in the village lost their minds? What you are you two doing here?”
Crystal was the newest sheriff’s deputy in the county and one for whom I had the greatest admiration. She’d saved my life during my first attempt at amateur sleuthing. In spite of her cheerleader good looks, she was a sharp study. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with mischief, and her blond ponytail swung as she threw her head back slightly and laughed.
“This is the most exciting thing to happen here since I arrived a year ago. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I’m going to ask my guides to help me with my love life. Now I’m settled here, and my career is on track, it’s time for a boyfriend.” She rubbed her hands together as if she could hardly wait to get started.
Gabby Langdon, my friend, attorney, and cohort in crime investigation looked less enthusiastic as she removed her calf-length hounds-tooth wool coat. She was dressed in an impeccable navy suit and heels, although she’d be able to pull off a gunny sack with her long legs and small waist. I was more surprised to see her than Phyllis or Crystal. Gabby had a fun side but didn’t show it often.
“Crystal didn’t want to come by herself and dragged me along,” said Gabby with a wary look on her face.
I was about to speak up when Wendy came over and mumbled the latest request from Gwendolyn. Scanning the room, I couldn’t see her. I held up my finger to my friends and went into the kitchen to put the kettle on. There were two young men whom I didn’t know already in there. We didn’t entertain much, and it felt unsettling to have strangers milling around my home.
I opened a package of store-bought cookies and arranged them on a plate. No amount of positioning could make them look homemade, but I did my best to make them appear appetizing. Then I wondered why I cared. My friends wouldn’t mind—they knew me and my lack of culinary skills. I’d never see the strangers again.
By the time I finished my chores, all the guests had found seats in the dining room, and Gwendolyn was lighting more white candles. I took one of the few remaining seats and looked around the table. To my further bewilderment, I knew several more faces gathered there.
Sitting directly across from me was Dina Wheeling, a barmaid at the Gee & Tee bar, and her boyfriend, Trevor Wills. They were an on-again-off-again couple who always seemed like an odd match. She was pretty and smart, while Trevor was a mama’s boy who never had to work for anything. Most of the village had him down as a lay-about who didn’t mind bending the rules when it suited him.
Harry Wills, uncle of Trevor, was on my left, and he patted my hand and smiled when I sat down. Harry was everything Trevor wasn’t. The continued success of the Wills’ Ranch was down to him ever since he’d inherited it from his father. He was in his late 60s, short and stout, and a true gentleman. A consummate bachelor, he cared deeply for the community and was exceedingly generous with his time and wealth. Everyone loved Harry.
Trevor glared in my direction, but I soon realized it was aimed at his Uncle Harry. I knew they hadn’t arrived together since the two sides of the family hadn’t spoken in years. Trevor’s mother, Susan, had infected her son with her hatred of her brother. In fact, I was surprised Trevor hadn’t hauled Dina out as soon as he’d seen his uncle in attendance.
Continuing around the table, I spied the bald, bespectacled owner of the local market, Evan Fowler, and the lean, dapper minister of the town’s non-denomination church. The Reverend Holt smiled and nodded when he caught me staring. I realized my eyebrows were raised. I lowered them and averted my eyes demurely to my lap. We weren’t members of his congregation, but he’d been in the village long enough to know who I was and what I got up to.
Gwendolyn rang a small bell loudly, causing a few of us to jump in our seats, myself included. “I’m so pleased you all were able to come tonight. The fact that you are here, regardless of your skepticism or discomfort, means you were led by the Divine. You are here to receive messages from beyond.”
She looked around at each of us in turn. I got the first glimpse of the woman I’d known in my teaching days—the look that could penetrate the souls of students and strike fear in the hearts of anyone foolish enough to argue against her.
Both she and Wendy had changed into flowing robes which sported swirls of violet and gold. Wendy sat to Gwendolyn’s right, looking as uneasy as most of us, which didn’t make me feel any better. After all, she knew what was about to happen—this surely wasn’t the first of these she’d helped facilitate.
Coming back to reality, I heard Gwendolyn explaining more mumbo jumbo that I couldn’t comprehend. From the looks on most of my fellow attendees’ faces, neither did they.
“It’s vital I debunk any myths you might have about what I do and what you may experience here tonight before we begin. As a psychic medium, I am merely a vessel for the spirit realm. The ancestors, guides, and angels of those gathered here tonight will contact me if they have messages. I cannot guarantee each of you will receive a message, and I don’t know who will communicate with me.”
Gwendolyn slowly moved her eyes around the table, making eye contact with each of us. “Now, I will invoke our angels and guides to surround us with protective light and to raise our vibrations so that we can receive the messages our dearly departed wish to offer us. Please close your eyes and hold hands. We are forming a circle of trust and protection with our hands all entwined. No matter what happens, we must keep our circle unbroken until the closing ceremonial words are spoken.”
More awkward glances around the table. I heard the timid Evan Fowler chuckle nervously as he reached for his neighbors’ hands. I closed my eyes wondering what I’d gotten myself into.
For the first time, I realized there was soft flute music playing in the background. I started to relax, the music and candlelight working their magic. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I’d feared.
With that thought still reverberating in my mind, Gwendolyn rang the bell forcefully, jarring my calmed nerves.
Gwendolyn invoked psychic protection and called in the spirits, welcoming them to the space. Nothing happened. Again, she intoned, asking them for their attendance. This went on for some time. I’d started to believe it was going to turn out to be a dud performance—a no-show on the part of the spirits—when Gwendolyn spoke.
“I welcome you, friend. What message do you have for us?” She stayed quiet for a moment, seemingly receiving the message from the spirit.
“I have a man here who is extremely excited to connect with the love of his life, his wife. He’s not offering me a name, though he says his wife always called him Honey Pie.”
Phyllis gasped and then said, “That’s me. It’s my Ernie.”
“Yes, yes, that’s right. The man is affirming what you’ve said, dear one. Now, he wants me to communicate something to you…”
We waited.
Finally, Gwendolyn spoke up, “He wants you to know he’s always with you, even though you can’t see him. He communicates with you through dreams. He loves you deeply and wants you to know you are never alone.”
Phyllis inhaled noisily and sniffed. Gwendolyn seemed to have at least one satisfied customer.
“Are there other spirits who have a message from beyond?”
After waiting a short while, Gwendolyn said, “One of you here is being reminded that you have feet of clay.” More silence. “Your guides want you to keep in mind that no one is above sin. That’s it. They are gone now.”
It could have applied to any of us, but I’d wager the message had been for the Reverend Holt. He was the one here most likely to have sin on his mind, and the “feet of clay” reference from the Bible had to be relevant as well. I was pondering the cryptic message when Gwendolyn inhaled sharply. Then spooky silence.
Another gasp and a different, deep voice came from the head of the table.
“I see fire, billowing fire in the canyon. A man is trapped in the blaze. It’s…it’s…he’s in a truck. Oh, the pain. No. No. The agony.” Then she made the most horrible sound, part moan, part scream.
In my distress, I peeked at Gwendolyn, and I wasn’t the only one. She was writhing around in her chair and had a ghastly expression on her face, as though she were experiencing the fire herself. Suddenly, she calmed. After a moment, she jerked fiercely and said in that same bass voice, “It was murder. Do not be tricked. It has been foretold.”
Chapter Four
With another jerk, Gwendolyn opened her eyes wide and gulped in air. Her body sagging, she whispered something hoarsely to Wendy, whose eyes were just as wide as her own.
Wendy closed the circle without any fanfare, a tremor in her voice. She took Gwendolyn by the elbow and guided her upstairs, while the attendees found their coats and started streaming out the front door. Not much was said, but what was there to say after such a pronouncement?
I mumbled goodbyes to the people I knew and from the corner of my eye, watched as Wendy steered a zombie-like Gwendolyn up the stairway. Gwendolyn must have had a moment of clarity. Suddenly she turned her head in my direction and stared hard.
But it wasn’t me she was giving the hairy eyeball—it was the thirty-something guy standing behind me. They silently glared at one another. Then, just as quickly, Gwendolyn broke eye contact and resumed her sleepwalking stance up to her room.
Curious about the blatant hostility, I made a mental note to ask Gwendolyn about it tomorrow. As I turned, I caught sight of the guy Gwendolyn had been silently communicating with. He looked at me expectantly, as if I should know who he was. I smiled as I held open the screen door and told him to have a safe drive home.
I watched him walk to his car, trying to place him. Finally, his ratty olive parka disappeared inside a twenty-year-old nondescript car, and I heard him coax the car to life.
My hosting chores completed, I headed back into the kitchen to put the kettle on. I was chilled from standing in the open doorway, and I doubted I’d be able to sleep right away after the events of tonight.
Phyllis, Crystal, and Gabby were huddled around my table drinking from steaming mugs, discussing something in faux whispers. I poured a mug of hot water and dropped a Sleep Tight tea bag into it, then walked over to the table and sat down.
“What the holy heck was that?” Phyllis looked at me in expectation.
“How should I know? I just live here. I had no idea what tonight was going to be like, but it certainly wasn’t that.”
Crystal said, “Well, she is your friend. Has this happened to her before? Did you hear how her voice changed? It was spooky.” Her eyes wide, she looked a naïve twelve-year-old girl.
Ever the analytical lawyer, Gabby shook her head doubtfully and piped in, “She could have done that herself though, couldn’t she? The whole thing could be a scam. It wouldn’t be the first time a 'psychic'”—she made air quotes, “had done something spectacular to boost business.”
“It would have to be a long con because nobody got scammed tonight, it was a free event. And the Gwendolyn I know would never take advantage of someone.”
“Maybe you don’t know her as well as you thought, but she did give me that message from my Ernie,” Phyllis said.
“Ever since she walked through the door today I’ve wondered if I’d ever really known her. But even if her…belief system has changed, her basic character hasn’t. I may not be a devotee of the occult, but I’m confident she’d never scam anyone. She seems to wholeheartedly believe this stuff.”
The debate continued for a while with nothing being resolved. But then again, the only one who could explain what had happened was sleeping it off upstairs. My friends made me promise to find out the dirty details of the situation and let them know.
They were still talking about the séance as we walked outside, though I was done speculating. I yawned wide enough for my jaw to crack. After seeing them to their cars, I headed up to bed.
Bone-tired, I lay in bed for a long time before finally drifting off. I didn’t worry about setting the alarm. Gwendolyn could find something to eat for breakfast if she got up before I did, which I thought unlikely. One question kept running through my mind. Why had the spirits requested my presence at the séance to witness the prophecy?
~~*~~
When Gwendolyn wasn’t downstairs by eleven the next morning, I went to her room with a cup of tea, tapping on the door before opening it.
“Oh hello, love.” She said weakly. She was covered to her ample waist with the downed comforter that stayed year-round on the guest bed. I actually recognized the paisley flannel nightdress as something the Gwendolyn I used to know would have worn.
I walked in, closed the door, and sat on the edge of the bed. A hissing came from under the bed, and Athena took her revenge for confining her to the room by raking her sharp claws over my tender, exposed ankle. I jumped up in pain. In my concern for my friend, I’d forgotten about her demon pet.
Gwendolyn tutted ineffectually and handed me a tissue from the bedside table. I dabbed at the scrape, wincing a little.
Gwendolyn showed little mercy for my hardship. “You must have wronged Athena in another life. I’ve never seen her behave this way with anyone else. It’s karma, I’m afraid.”
I rolled my eyes as I bent over my ankle, taking stock of the damage. If I wanted to get some straight answers out of her, it wouldn’t do to argue about the unlikelihood of reincarnation. “Um mm,” was all I said.
The bleeding stopped, I sat back up and looked at my friend. “Gwendolyn, what can you tell me about last night? What was that about?”
She shrugged slightly. “I know what you do. Someone is going to die in a ghastly car fire, but it won’t have been an accident. It will be murder.”
“But, what I mean is, where did that information come from?” A hundred questions were running through my mind, and I wasn’t sure which to ask first. “Did you change your voice on purpose? How do you know it’s true?”
“The message came from the spirit of the murder victim’s family. You know, don’t you, that there is no seeing into the future? I am only told the possible outcomes if a person continues along the same course of action. I can only assume the relative came to warn the victim of the danger so his death could be avoided.”
She took a sip of tea before continuing. “And of course it’s true. The spirit world doesn’t hand out fake messages willy-nilly. It took everything I had to channel that message. I’ve never experienced such a strong feeling from beyond.” She looked at me with a wrinkled brow. “And I don’t know what you mean by changing my voice. I always sound this way.”
“No, I mean your voice changed in tone last night. It got really deep like it was coming out of a man’s body.”
“I've been told my voice changes sometimes when I channel because the spirits from beyond speak through me.” She shrugged as if this were of no consequence. “That’s what channeling is.”
I just looked at her, not sure how to ask the questions I still had without offending her. But they needed to be asked. I was uncomfortable, to say the least, with the events of last night. I had to live in this town and didn’t want to be a laughingstock in my own community.
“I must admit I’m not sure how I feel about your change of professions. And I don’t understand why I needed to be there last night. It all happened so quickly. What was the point of dragging all those people to my home? Couldn’t you have just called the person the message was for and let him know? And, by the way, who is the supposed victim?”
In a calm voice, Gwendolyn said, “Slow down, Jade. I understand this has alarmed you. I don’t know why you needed to be there. That isn’t clear yet. I’m just the messenger, and I only know what they tell me. It’s a need-to-know-basis type of thing.”
Athena had jumped up on the bed and was purring loudly as Gwendolyn petted her. “If the message isn’t for me, I only get enough detail so the person it’s for can understand. I just do as I’m told—I was told to hold a séance here last night, so I did. I only knew important information from deceased family members was going to be communicated. I didn’t know who specifically the messages would be for, so how could I call and tell them?”
I rubbed my forehead, feeling the threat of another headache coming on. It didn’t seem Gwendolyn knew much of anything. And how could she not be curious about the victim? Heck, the Gwendolyn I knew was even more inquisitive than I was.
I watched her haggard-looking, yet nonplussed face admiring Athena as she hummed sweetly to her. And how could she stand such a spiteful cat?
“Why do you think—” I started to ask.
Gwendolyn held up a hand, took a deep breath and recited, “I don’t —"
“I know, I know. You don’t know.” Frustrated, I moved towards the door, murmuring that there was food downstairs when she was hungry. She said thank you and took another sip from the steaming teacup.
~~*~~
An hour later, Gwendolyn and Wendy were reading tarot cards at my kitchen table while munching on something I couldn’t identify. Since I didn’t want to get caught up in more of their shenanigans, I prepared to head into town. Hopefully, I’d be able to find what I needed for their vegan meals in our little market. I should have already had the concoction in the slow cooker by now.
In the dinky corner of the market set aside for whole foods, I was scrutinizing each item when I heard someone call my name. I turned and felt my heart sink when I saw Sheryl Buccanon.
