Confound It Read online

If so, I’d paid a helluva price for Rose getting her jollies. My anger welled and billowed like thunderheads. Were free will and freedom of thought figments of my imagination? This was my life. I should be in charge of my thoughts and actions. I resented being someone else’s puppet. Or some thing else’s puppet. Was an entity from beyond doing this to me … and to Mayes?

  An urge to let go flitted into my thoughts. I ignored it, but the tension in my body and mind eased a bit. I wanted to let go, but trust was in short supply. “What’s Running Bear doing?”

  Mayes edged closer. “Purifying us.”

  I couldn’t quite wrap my head around his words, especially now that I was silently repeating the chant. “Are we dirty?”

  He hesitated before reaching out with his virtual hand. “It is a ritual cleansing. To remove the harm from us. Allow him to finish. He is helping.”

  If that would get me back awake and thinking my own thoughts, fine. I accepted his hand and his help. The chant washed over me and through me until I couldn’t tell where I began or ended. Light warmed the chill from my body, and as I yielded the last bit of resistance, I felt part of something bigger.

  * * *

  “There you are,” Mom said.

  I felt the pressure of her hand on mine and surged awake from the best sleep I’d ever had. Contentment and happiness pulsed through my body, along with a sense of satiation. My flesh and bones were lighter, cleaner. I felt whole, as if I’d had a tune-up.

  A timeline of events flooded my thoughts. My collapse. Running Bear. The purification ceremony. I struggled to sit in the candlelit living room. The group had disbanded, and only my mom remained with me. “Did I die?”

  “Not in the traditional sense,” Mom said.

  “I feel different. What happened?”

  “You’ve been keeping secrets from us.”

  Air huffed from my lungs at the reproach in her voice. “And you and Dad haven’t kept things from me?”

  A frown lined her face. “We were protecting you.”

  “I get that, but your choice to reel out dreamwalker information a little at a time has left me fumbling in the dark. Dreamwalking is more complicated than I was led to believe.”

  My father joined us, sitting cross-legged beside me. “Experience is the best way of learning, but you should’ve told us of your indenture.”

  I glanced at the tattoo on my hand. Was it my imagination or did it glow brighter than ever? “How’d you find out about Rose?”

  “You told us, during the purification.”

  Several cracks appeared in my good mood. “That’s not fair. My deal with Rose is a private matter.”

  “Not according to Mayes.” Dad gentled his tone. “We are all bound, daughter.”

  The walls of my Zen-like state toppled. “I’m starting to hate that word. Mayes says I’m bound to him, and now you’re using that word too. I don’t regret the choices I’ve made. You and Gentle Dove wouldn’t be alive if I hadn’t asked Rose for help.”

  Gentle Dove and Running Bear slipped in, sat beside my father. “For which we are all grateful.”

  The candles on the nearby coffee table flickered at their arrival. I remembered my manners. “Thank you, Running Bear, for whatever you just did. The pain in my belly is gone.”

  “The voodoo priestess can’t harm you now,” he replied.

  My thoughts raced. The pains I’d felt in my foot, my arm, and my belly. I’d suspected voodoo after Mayes managed to stop the elbow pain earlier today. We’d planned to visit Cipriona Marsden, to see if she was doing this to me, but the day had gotten away from us.

  I gazed at Running Bear, feeling the love and caring radiating from him and the others in the room. They wanted to help. I nearly sobbed with relief. I didn’t have to carry this burden alone anymore. I trusted and believed Running Bear. If he said there was a voodoo priestess, it was the truth.

  “Who is she?” I asked.

  “Only you will know,” Running Bear said.

  “Oh?” I wasn’t certain of Cipriona’s involvement, merely suspected it.

  Gentle Dove cleared her throat softly. “She visited you recently and stole something of yours.”

  “I haven’t noticed anything missing.” Something popped into my head. “Except for maybe a hank of hair that’s shorter than the others. But maybe I did that myself. I can’t remember. Besides, other than Charlotte and family, I don’t have company at home, only dreamwalking clients.”

  Silent expectation lapped around me. I’d had three dreamwalking clients this week, but only one session had felt disjointed. Sure seemed like all avenues of inquiry were leading to Cipriona. “A client left while I was dreamwalking for her the other day. Cipriona Marsden, the palm reader.”

  “Hmm. Her grandmother dabbled in the black arts,” Mom said. “Could be.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said, thinking aloud. “I was only vaguely aware of Cipriona until yesterday, when she asked for help in trying to free her granny. Why would she target me?”

  “Could be a competition thing,” Dad said. “People who visit you wouldn’t need a palm reader.”

  “Or it could be another reason,” Mayes said. He entered the house and sat beside me. “This could be about our homicide case.”

  Though he didn’t take my hand, it felt like he did. His masculine energy enfolded me, and it felt good. “It’s true that Cipriona came to see me the day Mandy Patterson died, but nothing about this meth lab case leads to her. I agree with my father. Professional jealousy seems more likely.” My thoughts veered in another direction. “Thanks to Charlotte and the newspaper, everyone in town knows I’ve helped the sheriff with cases. I suppose the palm reader could’ve established an alibi visiting me, but since my thoughts were elsewhere, I can’t verify how long she stayed at my house. When I called her afterward, she didn’t answer. So far she hasn’t returned my call or answered my question about what to do with her father’s suspenders.”

  “This palm-reader woman sounds like a strong candidate for your voodoo priestess,” Mayes said. “I’ll ask Wayne to lean on her.”

  Alarms clanged in my head. If the sheriff “leaned” on my dreamwalker clients, word would get around, which would not be good. “Hold up. We have no evidence. This is conjecture. You know better than to make a leap like that.”

  Mayes shrugged. “Officially, I’m still detailed to Wayne for this case. I could lean on her myself. She hurt you. I take issue with her behavior.”

  I knew my sheriff. Even though he arranged for Mayes to be one of his guys temporarily, Wayne was top dog. He’d view Mayes taking the initiative as outright mutiny. No telling what Mr. GBI would think. “You’re right about taking this to the sheriff.” His face lit up, and I plunged forward with the rest of it. “Let Wayne handle the interview.”

  “You’ll want to find the answer, of course,” my father said, “but she can’t hurt you that way anymore. Running Bear’s purification made you whole again. Whatever she did to get past your spiritual defenses in the past, she can no longer gain access.”

  “Really?” He nodded, and I felt lighter in my heart. “The first two times were bad, but that last attack was off-the-scale worse. Voodoo must be very powerful.”

  “We were fortunate,” Mayes said.

  Being knocked out by overwhelming pain seemed the opposite, but I wanted to see where this was going. “How so?”

  “Because we were surrounded by your dreamwalking support team. As a collective, they knew what to do. If you’d been alone, the result could’ve been much different.”

  I glanced across the room at Running Bear. “Thank you.” My heart swelled with love as I gazed at each dear face. They were so selfless, so caring. It humbled me. “I am so very thankful for all of you, for your community of kindred spirits.”

  “It is our way, and it will be your way,” Mom said. “Your grandmother had a team of helpers that we learned from, and now you are starting to attract kindred spirits.”

  With a start,
I realized she was right. My medium friend Stinger was like- minded. And Elvis, our Chihuahua therapy dog. And Mayes. Couldn’t forget him. And Oliver my ghost dog. My helpers came in all shapes and forms.

  “I can’t say enough to thank you. I couldn’t do this job without you all. I wish I didn’t keep finding trouble and being laid low.”

  “It’s the nature of the work,” my father said. “And you’re doing splendidly. My mom had a saying that I frequently used to help reshape my frame of reference. ‘Each day is a new beginning.’ I took those words to heart. Each day brings the chance for healing and wholeness for each of us and those we can help.”

  Healing. Once I’d accepted my spiritual gifts for what they were, I’d stopped being a woman divided. While I’d been helping the living and the dead, I’d been helping myself by stretching and growing. Emotion choked my throat.

  “Thank you,” I managed.

  Outside, a car door slammed. Someone was here? I hadn’t heard anyone drive up. The serenity of the room shattered at the loud noise. My pulse kicked into overdrive.

  “Ms. Powell! You out here?” a male voice shouted.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Mayes bolted out the door as I scrambled to my feet. Mom, Dad, and I followed him into the night. Under starry skies, twin headlights illuminated the lawn. The air vibrated with grunts and squeals.

  Doodle Patterson stood next to Mayes. The teen could barely contain himself as he wrung his hands. “You gotta let me leave my pigs here. I got nowhere else to put them. You gotta help me.”

  “I don’t have to do anything,” Mayes said. “I’m not the property owner here. Tab and Lacey Nesbitt live here. Appeal to them for mercy. How’d you find this place?”

  “Asked a buddy of mine when I couldn’t find Ms. Powell at home. Aunt June won’t let me keep them at her place, and the dog-pound guy said they couldn’t stay there after the damage they caused. I’ve got to pay for a new lock on the shelter’s back door. When I told my aunt what happened, she nearly went through the roof of her trailer.”

  My parents walked around to the bed of the truck and were making soft sounds to the full-grown pot bellied pigs.

  I turned my attention back to Doodle. Though I believed my father’s assessment of the palm reader’s interest in me, this was a great opportunity to explore Mayes’ theory about Cipriona. “You ever meet a woman named Cipriona Marsden?”

  Doodle looked confused. “I’ve seen her sign on the highway like everyone else, but I’ve never been to see her. Why would I want my palm read? No one can see the future.”

  The force of his lie caught me unaware. I hadn’t expected him to lie about anything tonight, since he was asking us for a favor. Now I’d pay closer attention to anything else he said.

  Mayes leaned against the old truck. “What about your aunt? Has she had her palm read?”

  “How would I know? Look, it’s no secret we don’t like each other. Aunt June only came around to our house to beg my mom for money. She never had enough, and after a while, my mom quit loaning her anything.”

  “How much did she borrow?”

  Mayes’ voice was deceptively soft. He’d zeroed in on that outstanding debt as a possible motive for murder. Concurrently, Aunt June moved to the top of my suspect list, and Cipriona moved to the back burner. Now that her power over me had been blocked, there was no urgency to get in touch with her.

  “Over two grand,” Doodle said. “My mom said we couldn’t afford to support Aunt June and ourselves. She also said she wouldn’t help anyone who didn’t help themselves. Aunt June is a nut.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “Uh … uh ….” Doodle’s face turned beet-red. “Well, you know how Mom made her living. Aunt June thinks I know how to cook. She’s talking about renting a trailer and making me cook meth.”

  It took me a long moment to close my jaw. “She can’t do that.”

  “She says she can, and if I don’t cooperate, she’ll turn me over to child services.”

  “You don’t have to live with her,” I said, “but that’s a moot point. After what you just told us, she will lose custody of you. Wouldn’t you rather live in an approved foster home?”

  Fear flared in his eyes. “I’m too old. I know what happens to kids like me. Foster parents want little kids. I’d run away, but I don’t want to blow my chances at a decent college. Please, I beg you, don’t tell anyone about her.”

  Everything he said was a lie.

  Everything.

  I was certain of it, but why would he lie to us about his situation and his aunt? Either he wanted out of Aunt June’s or he didn’t. His aunt didn’t sound right in the head, but was that his intention? To color my judgment about June Hendrix?

  Since the start of this case, I’d considered Doodle a victim. He deserved a chance to break the chains that had bound his mom into servitude.

  Were those my thoughts? Or had I taken the information Mandy shared in the dreamwalks as absolute truth?

  The mother in me wanted to leap to this child’s defense, to rescue him, and to lock up all the irresponsible adults in his life. Except he didn’t want to be rescued.

  I needed to know why.

  “How’ll you pay for college?” I asked.

  “Scholarships, and some of our rainy-day money.”

  The air roiled around Mayes. To keep him from speaking, I reached for his hand and squeezed it before directing my attention to the anxious teen. “Does your aunt know about that money?”

  “No, and you can’t tell her.”

  “What does she need money for?” I asked.

  “Debts. She gambles. She blows her government subsidy money as soon as she gets it. We may not have any groceries for the second half of the month because she’s barely got twenty bucks left. She’s talking about selling this old truck of Mom’s, but it runs good. I don’t want to sell it. I’d rather keep the truck than my old clunker. That way at least I’d have something of my mom’s.”

  “Has she been to the bank to be added to your mom’s accounts?” I’d asked him about the bank accounts before, but I wanted to know if the answer would be the same now.

  “I already told you. Mom didn’t have any bank accounts. She paid for everything in cash.”

  That was the first thing he said that had the ring of truth, but Mandy Patterson must’ve had accounts somewhere to deposit the money for Doodle’s college. Unless she buried the drug money in her yard. I could picture June at Mandy’s burnt-out place, digging hole after hole, searching for a windfall.

  “What about life insurance?” Mayes asked the young man.

  “I don’t know. She kept important papers in the bedroom file cabinet.”

  “We’re headed over there tomorrow first thing. If you’d like to meet us and help us search, what time would be convenient?”

  “I don’t know when I can get away again. Aunt June’s riding my butt about every chore that needs doing at her place, and nothing’s been done in over twenty years. Plus, Derenne’s back, and they can’t stop yelling at each other. I hate living with them, but I can stand it for another year. I’ve got to find a safe haven for my pigs.”

  “We’ll take them,” my father said, walking up beside us.

  You could’ve knocked me down with a marsh hen feather. “You will?”

  “Yeah.” Dad’s eyes had an unfamiliar gleam in them. “Lacey always wanted to raise pigs.”

  She did? Funny how I never knew that. In fact, I couldn’t remember the word “pig” ever mentioned at our house in conversation.

  “You can’t eat them!” Doodle’s voice hitched as he spoke.

  “We won’t,” Mom said. “Petunia and Patches need to feel secure again. They miss your mother.”

  “The sheriff can freeze your mom’s assets,” Dad said. “Matter of fact, technically they are frozen until her means of death is determined. It’s against the law for your aunt to sell your mom’s truck right now, and she could go to jail if she does. The ars
on investigator pinpointed the location where the fire started, but we don’t know if the fire started before or after your mother passed.”

  “How can they figure that out?” Doodle asked, the color draining from his face.

  “The medical examiner makes the call.” Mayes shifted to a more active stance. He’d been relaxed a second ago but now he seemed ready to pounce. “Tell me about Todd Derenne.”

  “That SOB returned from a long haul an hour ago, saw our place was gone, and hightailed it over to Aunt June’s to raise hell,” Doodle said. “They were making so much noise the neighbors probably called the cops by now. This is the worst day of my life.”

  Uh-oh. Another lie. But he’d spoken so fast, I wasn’t sure which sentence was a lie. Mayes shot me a warning glance. Had he heard it too? To my surprise, Mayes nodded toward the rear of Doodle’s vehicle. “Let’s get these pigs unloaded. You got a ramp?”

  “Four thick boards.”

  The pigs trotted off the ramp, grunting and squealing. They ran to my mom and stayed at her side. Doodle left after receiving a promise he could visit the pigs any time.

  “Call your boss,” Mayes said when we had a moment alone. “Tell him about the aunt and the boyfriend arguing. Tell him about the aunt’s plans for Doodle.”

  The shadows from the trees had merged so that Mayes’ face was only lit by the flickering flames of the fire. His hard expression gave me a chill.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think the sheriff will help him. He’s a suspect.”

  “This is a civil matter that involves a juvenile. If Doodle isn’t safe in June Hendrix’s custody, he needs alternate care.”

  The dots connected in my head. “And Wayne could haul them in for questioning about their domestic dispute. Gotcha.” I made the call. Wayne answered on the first ring. Quickly I filled him in on what Doodle said about the new arrival, Todd Derenne.

  “I’m already on my way to the trailer,” Wayne said. “Dispatch notified me of the domestic disturbance. I’ll meet with the units in that sector and be part of that house call.”

  “Just a sec.” For privacy, I stepped away from the revealing glow of the fire.I leaned against the dark side of a tall pine. “You want company?”