Talking Bones E-Book

Mayer Dale

• Herausgeber: Valley Publishing Ltd.
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Hiding out in the French Quarter of New Orleans only made sense for someone like Skylar Livingston. Owning a voodoo shop was just an added touch for fun. It also helped with her cover, plus gave space to the multitude of ghosts in her family. And her shop was close to the cemeteries, … a very necessary part of her … hobby.

Gage Hawkins was tracking his uncle’s last movements before his disappearance hunting a special set of tarot cards which led to Skylar’s shop, Talking Bones. After a bad head injury that brought weird sights into his view, Gage could see this Talking Bones place and Skylar were special. He could only hope she had answers because he had a lot of questions …

Skylar preferred the dead to the living most times, but Gage had her reconsidering. Until she realizes something is wrong in his world, and it’s quickly overtaking hers.

When Gage’s uncle turns up dead, more than the undead are in Skylar’s world. … A killer is too …

Leseprobe

Talking Bones

A Psychic Visions Novel

Dale Mayer

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

About This Book

Complimentary Download

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Sneak Peek from String of Tears

About Simon Says…

Author’s Note

Complimentary Download

About the Author

Copyright Page

About This Book

Hiding out in the French Quarter of New Orleans only made sense for someone like Skylar Livingston. Owning a voodoo shop was just an added touch for fun. It also helped with her cover, plus gave space to the multitude of ghosts in her family. And her shop was close to the cemeteries, … a very necessary part of her … hobby.

Gage Hawkins was tracking his uncle’s last movements before his disappearance—hunting a special set of tarot cards—which led to Skylar’s shop, Talking Bones. After a bad head injury that brought weird sights into his view, Gage could see this Talking Bones place and Skylar were special. He could only hope she had answers because he had a lot of questions …

Skylar preferred the dead to the living most times, but Gage had her reconsidering. Until she realizes something is wrong in his world, and it’s quickly overtaking hers.

When Gage’s uncle turns up dead, more than the undead are in Skylar’s world. … A killer is too …

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KILL OR BE KILLED

Part of an elite SEAL team, Mason takes on the dangerous jobs no one else wants to do—or can do. When he’s on a mission, he’s focused and dedicated. When he’s not, he plays as hard as he fights.

Until he meets a woman he can’t have but can’t forget. Software developer Tesla lost her brother in combat and has no intention of getting close to someone else in the military. Determined to save other US soldiers from a similar fate, she’s created a program that could save lives. But other countries know about the program, and they won’t stop until they get it—and get her.

Time is running out. … For her. … For him. … For them …

DOWNLOADfree military romance? Just tell me where to send it!

Chapter 1

Skylar Livingston unlocked the connecting door between her upstairs apartment and that of her ground-level New Orleans shop, Skylar’s Heaven, and stepped inside her store that Friday morning. She walked rapidly to the back room and shut off the alarm. With that done, she entered her shop and opened the blinds to the front windows, letting light into her store. Taking off her sweater, she proceeded to the counter, where she flicked on the lights throughout, and only then did she fully open her eyes.

With the shop fully lit, the spirits were much less prevalent.

She called out, “Good morning, guys.”

There was a weird wavering of the air, as multiple personalities greeted her. Every morning when she arrived, the ghostly apparitions were so bright that it was hard for Skylar to see where she walked, as she headed to the alarm system. The ghosts were an alarm system as well, but Skylar still felt the need to have a more traditional system in place.

“Going to be a crazy day today,” Thomas said, by way of his greeting. He was one of many resident ghosts here.

Checking around, she noted that nothing appeared to be wrong or different with the energy or the ambience in the store. No sign of an intruder. No sign of any problems, but she hadn’t fully checked in the back yet. She made a quick walk through to the rear area, where she put on a pot of coffee, relieved to see absolutely nothing new or different.

In her world, boring and normal were perfect.

With all of that in place and the coffee dripping, she headed back out to the main store area, unlocked the front door, and peered out the window. She still had fifteen minutes until opening, but the streets were already filling with tourists. That was both good and bad. She needed the income that the tourists provided, but she didn’t like some of the energy that they brought with them. As a matter of fact, she didn’t like anything about the commercialism or the necessity of making a living.

But she hadn’t won the lottery and neither had she been born rich. So she worked.

She yawned and quickly covered her mouth with her hand, wishing she could sleep in later in the mornings. But that would mean hiring somebody to open up the store for her and giving her those extra few hours. Then again, if she didn’t spend so much of her nights in the damn cemeteries, it wouldn’t be as big of a problem.

Skylar brushed her long black hair off her face, noting that in her hurry she hadn’t brought a clip. She looked around, found a wooden stick and a hair pin from the olden days that she had marked at two bucks, then quickly twisted her hair up and fixed it firmly in place. Noting just how quick and efficient that was, not to mention stylish, she looked at the price on the rest of them and quickly changed it to seven dollars instead. She often found that, with things for sale in the store, if she doubled the price or made it even higher, the items sometimes took on a life of their own.

Then her ghostly friends helped too.

She knew that she could count on the effect of the spirits and their energy to set the mood inside, which was perfect for a voodoo shop, although it took a lot from Skylar to keep it energized high enough to bring in people.

Whenever she recognized that some people were looking for a spooky experience, she would quickly lower her energy shield, so that the store had the ambience of something darker. She could cheerfully blame the ghosts for that, if any tourist was so interested.

As she looked around, she saw all her regular ghostly crew.

“You know that you can go home anytime,” she stated, something that she shared probably thirty to forty times a day. At least when the store was empty. The ghosts all just nodded, and not one moved.

The frustration was crippling at times. “You all do that, seemingly agreeing with me, yet you’re all still here. Even though you have options.”

Thomas whispered in her ear, “We are here because we want to be.”

“You’re not connected to me though,” she murmured. “So you don’t need to stand watch, although it is appreciated.”

“We are connected to you,” he argued, crossing his arms. He looked like somebody from Abraham Lincoln’s era, with a top hat and a black suit. He was tall and almost gaunt.

She sighed. “Just because I rescued some bones—”

“Yes, but we’re also here because we want to be,” he noted, “so you can’t chase us away.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “My shop is getting more crowded all the time.”

“That’s all right,” replied Dodi, a pale-faced woman on the other side of the counter. “We’ll just move to your apartment then.”

Immediately Skylar shook her head. “No, no, no, please don’t do that.”

The woman looked at her in surprise. “Why not?”

“Because it’s nice to have a place that is only mine.” Although it wasn’t only hers. No way to explain that to this group of ghosts though.

Dodi looked at Skylar for a moment and then gave a complacent nod. “I can see that for you, it’s true. I had nine children, so I wouldn’t know what that is like. But I’m happy to give it to you.”

“Nine children?” Skylar almost gasped at that. When she heard a noise from the front door, she turned toward it. One of the ghost kids, Chucky, called out in excitement, “They’re coming.”

She groaned, plastered a smile on her face, and waited, while the door opened fully. Then her smile became real. “Hey, Tomo,” she greeted the tall, spare man walking toward her with a sheepish smile. “How are you doing?”

He held up a plate. “My latest offering. I’m hoping you would try some.”

She looked at the plate avariciously. “More beignets?”

“More beignets,” he confirmed. “You know that they have to be absolutely perfect in order to compete with everybody else around here.”

“You keep trying all you want,” she murmured, as she stared at the plate with three fat treats, “particularly if that will keep the samples coming my way.”

He burst out laughing, his beautiful caramel-colored skin glowing, as his face split wide into a big grin. “You know that you’ll get all the beignets you want from my restaurant, when I finally get there—and for free.”

She shook her head. “You can’t do it for free. You’ll have to play the game and charge for your goods, just like the rest of us.”

“I wish I could hand them out for free though,” he replied in all seriousness.

“I know you do,” she added gently, “but somehow we’re caught up in this commercial lifestyle, where I must have people actually pay for my products, so I can turn around and pay you for beignets.”

“But, if I just gave them to you,” he started, “you wouldn’t—”

“Then how will you pay your rent?” she asked, with an understanding smile. He really was a wonderful soul, just not the most realistic when it came to business. He wanted to believe in a world of sunshine and roses, where everybody loved everybody else and where they all took care of each other. Well, she wanted to believe in that too, but her life experiences had confirmed a whole different reality was out there.

“I wish I had enough money,” he noted, “where I could just do it by donation.”

“I wish you did too because I know that system does work in some places.” He looked at her with interest, as she shrugged. “I’ve heard of pilot programs that have popped up in different areas with that structure, but I would presume that you still need to have enough income on a regular basis to pay the rent.”

He winced. “I don’t understand why that rent money thing keeps coming around every month.” She burst out laughing, and he shot her a quick, bright grin.

Skylar continued. “See? Now that’s what I love about you—that humor, with a completely deadpan face, while you crack a joke like that.”

He nodded sagely. “And you’re always happy to see me because I bring along the sunshine.”

She gazed at him affectionately. “That is very true. The world will be a sadder place when you choose to leave it.” He looked at her in surprise, but she shrugged. “Don’t ask me. It’s just the way the words came out.”

“Are you, like, sensing anything?” There was hesitation and worry in his voice.

She stared. “Hell no,” she said out loud. “You know that’s not a part of what I do.”

He nodded. “But I think you probably could if you tried. At least my grandma says so.”

“Your grandma would accept anybody in the business if she thought she could get them to help with her clients and could make money off them,” she teased.

That grin flashed again. “You do know her, don’t you?”

“I know her very well,” she stated, with a smile. “You guys have been very good to me since I’ve been here.”

“Too bad you haven’t been here longer,” he added cheerfully. “We would have been nice to you since then.”

Skylar nodded. Nothing she could really say to that, but it was such a typical comment from him, and, thinking back, she wished the same thing.

He looked around. “Well, here we go. Looks like the tourists are filling up the streets once again. You’ll have a wild and crazy day, from the looks of things. Good thing I brought you some fortification,” he noted, with one raised eyebrow.

“Tourists are a blessed evil.” She shook her head.

“I have to admit I do like to be with them, but then, at some point, it gets very draining, and I need my own space. That’s when I go bury myself in the kitchen and come up with new recipes.”

“You go do that all you want,” she agreed. “I’m always happy to try out your experiments.”

“Even the failures?” He groaned, with an eye roll. “That says something.”

“Hey, I don’t get that much to eat these days,” she murmured.

“If you’d ever get some sleep,” he admonished her, “you could get up earlier, in time to actually eat before you have to open.”

“I could,” she noted, “but now you’ve saved me from starving yet another day.” When he frowned at her, she laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

“Have you really not eaten?” he asked.

“Not yet, no, but the coffee’s still dripping.”

He continued to frown, tapping his fingers on the front counter, as he glared at her.

“I’m fine,” she murmured. “I really am.”

“I’m not so sure that you’re fine, as much as you’re trying to convince me that you’re fine.”

Again, another astute comment from him that she hadn’t expected. She patted his hand. “I get it, but it’s all good.”

His response was stifled, as a crowd moved into her shop. She smiled at the crowd and greeted them. “Good morning.”

As if sensing that he was preventing her sales, Tomo immediately left, so she could get to work.

She was sad to see him leave. He was one of the few real friends she had here, among all her ghostly ones. She knew perfectly well that Tomo wouldn’t remain in this world much longer. Life, then death. It was the normal cycle of life, and she saw it time and time again. It was hard when they were young, and, just because she knew Tomo’s fate, she had no ability to change it. Therefore, she kept him happy, doing the things that he loved. Meanwhile, maybe he’d find a new treatment for the cancer eating away in his system.

She hadn’t changed fate one bit over the last twenty years and highly doubted that she could manage to do it now. Her own grandmother would have told her to stop wasting time and energy on something she can’t fix or stop, stating that the spirits had their own reasons for what they were doing, and it wasn’t for Skylar to know.

She’d even asked several of the ghosts in her shop for advice on how to help Tomo, but not one of her ghosts had a word of advice on how to postpone that final date with destiny.

For that reason alone, she tried to keep Tomo focused on what was happening in his world, all to make him smile. Surely smiling had to be worth something.

The smell of the beignets, still warm on her counter, tantalized her, even as she studied the customers who had just entered. “May I help you find anything?” she asked, casting another longing glance at the treats in front of her.

“We’re just looking,” a woman replied, her voice upbeat.

Skylar nodded and picked up a beignet, then quickly took a bite.

Almost immediately came a gasp from one of her potential customers. “Oh my,” the woman told her, “we just came from that famous café down the road. Their beignets were absolutely wonderful.”

Skylar immediately nodded. “Yes, they are.”

“Do they deliver too?”

“A friend of mine picked these up,” she explained.

“Nice friend,” the woman stated jealously.

Skylar kept her voice and smile soft, as she waited for them to peruse the store to see if they wanted to buy anything. Usually the early morning crowds were heading out for long days of sightseeing and rarely bought anything right off the bat because they were carrying everything they had with them. When they all tripped out with a smile, calling out for her to have a happy day, Skylar’s forecast had proven out because no one had bought a thing.

She immediately walked to the back room, then grabbed her first cup of coffee and returned to the counter, lifting a beignet and taking a big bite. As she stood here, wiping the powdered sugar off her face, her front door opened with an odd surge of air. She froze.

Only a few things would cause the wind to blow into her store like that.

With buildings across from her shop and around on all sides, the wind ran down the street. It rarely came into her store. And, sure enough, her curious gaze followed the gust of air all the way from the front to the back of her store and again to the front, as a man stepped over the threshold of her entrance. She stared at him, and her heart sank. “May I help you?” she asked, forcing a smile she didn’t feel, while she studied the strong energy in front of her.

“I’m looking for Skylar,” replied the man in a deep voice, his gaze intently studying her.

She nodded. “Well, you found her. What can I do for you?”

He observed her for a long moment, but she refused to give in to the uneasiness in her gut telling her to run, even though the power radiating off his frame was unbelievable. She didn’t dare make a comment or even let him know that she registered that something powerful filled him, because surely he already knew.

“I need you to help me with something.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I just run this little shop here.”

He burst out laughing. “That’s hardly all you do.”

She frowned and replied in a much different tone, not liking anything about his. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you’re implying.”

“I’m implying that you’re very talented in many other areas,” he stated, “and I don’t have time for the facade.”

“That’s nice,” she noted. “And I don’t really have time for anything you have to say, with an attitude like that.”

He nodded. “No? I can see that. Apparently I’m being more abrupt than usual.”

“Really?” She smirked. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“I don’t think much of anything gets by you, and I do not suffer fools either,” he stated in a silky voice.

She stared at him and asked quietly, “Are you calling me a fool?”

He shook his head. “No, and I can see that your defense mechanisms are already standing at full attention. I’m really not here to harm you.”

“Interesting, yet you say the darndest things.”

He frowned, as he studied her again. “Can we drop the pretense?”

“Please do,” she agreed patiently, not sure where he was going with this, but afraid she wouldn’t like it.

“I need help finding my uncle.”

“And what has that got to do with me?” she asked, a frown crossing her brows in bewilderment.

He scowled, as if finally realizing it was possible that he had the wrong person. “My uncle, I am afraid he’s missing.”

“Have you gone to the police?” No way would she try to find a lost uncle. What gossip had he listened to?

He sighed impatiently. “Of course I have. And, having exhausted all leads, I’m here, looking for assistance from you.”

“And whatever would possess you to come to me for help?”

“Well, you’re the one who talks to all these ghosts in here, aren’t you?” he asked, with a negligent hand movement.

Her heart clamped down tightly, and she stared at him in shock, her breath frozen in her chest.

“I could see them when I came in, at least some of them,” he explained. “I have a very general ability, not a full slate like you do.”

“I don’t get it,” she admitted, covertly gasping for air.

“And I don’t have the time or the patience for this,” he snapped. “My uncle might be dying, and I need help finding him.”

She frowned, her mind trying to figure out just what this was all about. She’d never had anybody come to her with that kind of a request before. “What do you mean, he’s dying? I thought you said that he’s missing.”

“Yes, and I got a note saying that, if I didn’t produce something specific, he would die.”

“I still don’t get it. What makes you think that, even if I could talk to ghosts, or whatever you’re saying I do here, that I could find a man, who is living?” Her confusion was real. She didn’t have a clue what the hell was going on here or why this guy had targeted her. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave my store.”

“And how many people will you gather up in order to force me outside?” he asked in a hard tone.

She stiffened. “Are you threatening me?”

He considered her for a long moment and then seemed to relax. “No, I’m being sincere. I need your help to find my uncle.”

“And yet you have not, at any point in time, explained how you’ve come to believe that I could help in any way,” she argued.

“I was hoping that you would be more honest, but I can see that you’ve built a life for yourself here by keeping those abilities hidden from this world. I hadn’t really expected that.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” she asked, shaking her head. “Even if I did have skills that you could utilize in some way, the world is not kind to anyone with abilities they don’t understand.”

“No,” he agreed. “I just assumed that, when you relocated, you would have found a better way to make it all work to your advantage.”

Her breath caught midway through his sentence. What could he possibly know about her relocating? “Stop,” she snapped abruptly. “I don’t know what this is all about. I don’t know how to find anybody. And, if the police haven’t found a way, I sure as hell can’t.”

“But you have to,” he stated.

Her eyebrows shot up. “What makes you think I have to do anything?”

“Because my uncle is also a distant relative of yours—he was into genealogy as well,” he added, with a crooked smile. “And, if you don’t help, according to the letter I received, everything about your life will become public.”

She looked at him in shock. “I don’t know anything about your uncle, but I do know that you, sir, are not related to me at all.” That she knew instinctively. She could tell from his energy that they shared absolutely nothing.

“That’s quite true,” he admitted, “blood relative of my mother’s. And we’ve been very close all my life.”

This was so far out of what she could even process that she didn’t know what to say. When she found her voice, she replied, “First, blackmail never works on me. Second, lying to me, trying to spring some surprise family on me, doesn’t work either. Since you seem to have delved into my background some, then you already realize that I have zero family, as far as I know. What game are you playing?” She stared at him, still trying to figure out what he was up to.

He nodded. “Which is also why I guess I can understand your reaction at the moment. But, if you will hear me out, I could explain.”

“So far you haven’t said much of anything yet, except for the thinly veiled threats and innuendos which I don’t appreciate. So, pardon me if I don’t look like I’m exactly thrilled about listening to anything more you have to say.”

He winced. “I get it. I haven’t been the most forthcoming. Put that down to being very worried about our uncle.”

“Your uncle. Not mine. Drop the phony family angle. I still don’t understand where you’re going with this.”

“So, Uncle Jonesy,” he began, with a gusty sigh and an attempt at a beguiling smile, “disappeared two nights ago, and I’ve been frantically looking for him ever since. He was staying close by, and I found out that his last stop on Tuesday night was one of the shops on this strip. I believe it was yours.”

She shrugged and shook her head.

“Then I got a note from somebody,” he added, “and, yes, the police now have that note. It says, Jonesy’s been taken prisoner, and, if they don’t get what they want, they’ll make sure that both your world and mine become public.”

She focused on him for a moment. “If my world becomes public, it would be a huge inconvenience, but I would just move on. Not a whole lot I can do about it otherwise.”

He nodded. “And you’ve done that a time or two already.”

“Once really,” she stated, her tone stiff. “What is it you’re trying to hide from?”

“Well, let’s just say I have zero interest in having my world become public either,” he replied.

“So what then? You expect me to help you find out where this … Jonesy of yours is?” she asked. “I don’t have any skills for that, whether my family or yours.”

“According to this note, you are family, and it goes back several generations.”

She waved a hand. “Which means nothing. I was adopted as a baby.”

“I get that. And you probably are also aware that your records are not available.”

“I haven’t tried to look.” She stared at him. “And just how would you know that?”

“Since getting this note and working with the police, we’ve worked hard to try and figure out what your family connection is.”

“As I’ve repeatedly told you, there is none.”

At that, the bell on the front door rang again and in walked a police officer. She swore under her breath. Something about the police just completely changed the energy in her shop.

“Gentlemen, you do realize that I’m trying to run a business here, and, no offense, but cops and angry strangers really don’t do anything for sales.”

The cop grinned at her affably. “Sorry about that.”

Yet he obviously didn’t give a shit. She groaned and asked, “What is this all about?”

“I’m sure he’s already told you. He just asked to step in here a few minutes early to talk to you privately.”

“Great. However, I have no idea who this Jonesy guy is, having never met him.”

“We have video camera proof, showing him coming here Tuesday at the end of the day.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Do you have a picture of him?”

Immediately the cop stepped forward and held out a photo on his phone. She looked at it, then frowned. “I kind of remember him. Let me think for a minute.” She focused her memory for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, he was looking for some tarot cards.”

“Do you know which ones?” the nephew asked, his voice intent.

She shot him a glare. “He was looking for a very old set, but I don’t have anything even close to that here at all. He did ask me if I knew of any.”

“Well, whoever kidnapped him wants this particular set and appears to believe that Uncle hid them somewhere since getting them.”

She stared at him. “Well, I never had them, and I certainly didn’t sell that or anything else to him. I didn’t do anything but speak with him briefly for a few moments,” she shared. “I don’t know anything about those particular tarot cards. What’s the draw about them anyway?”

The cop turned her words on her. “You tell me. You said they’re rare.”

“I said they’re old,” she corrected. “Like turn of the century—and that’s just according to Jonesy. I think he told me something about how they might have been involved in several murders.”

“We have one other reason why we’re here,” the cop added, with a not-so-affable smile.

In fact, his teeth almost appeared to sharpen as he studied her.

“His jacket was found on a side street and inside was a note to see you personally.”

She stared at him in shock, not liking anything happening here. “Outside of talking to him Tuesday night, and telling you all we discussed, I don’t know anything about it. So what is this all about?”

“How about the term talking bones?” the nephew asked quietly, the powerful energy around him stronger now.

Her gaze darted his way and then back at the cop. “No, I don’t understand that phrase. What are you talking about?”

The cop laughed. “It seems that the uncle thought you were capable of identifying bones.”

“What does that have to do with tarot cards?” she asked, getting more puzzled by the minute. “I’m hardly a pathologist or whatever science is involved in that skill.”

“He was looking for the tarot cards that he thought were involved in several murders, and he has several bones that he wanted identified,” the nephew stated abruptly. “According to everything he left behind, he believed you were the person who could do it.”

As she stood here, shaking her head, she recalled the ghosts had given her a warning about her crazy day coming and also recalled Tomo’s words about needing fortification for whatever was to come.

*

Gage studied the woman before him. Skylar wore a short-sleeve black T-shirt, showing off myriad tattoos that only highlighted her creamy white skin and black hair, long enough to be twisted atop her head and skewered in place. For all his newfound energy abilities—granted, he was still learning—she was damn good at cloaking. He couldn’t see behind her shield. He did sense more souls stuffed in her shop, almost like sardines.

Did she even know? Was she the one who collected them? Were they tied to her? Souls would tether to a human for a lot of reasons. But Gage had seen occasions where they were tethered and didn’t want to be. But, even as he studied the small store as surreptitiously as possible, he couldn’t see any sign of tethers. Damn, he wished he knew more—could do more.

He frowned, as he tuned out of the conversation between the cop and Skylar. Gage had wanted to come in here all on his own, so he could assess who she was. He’d seen the cracks in her shield beginning, before the cop walked in, but her fortress had immediately become indefensible again.

He understood that anything to do with law enforcement was like a blatant stab wound to her heart because they had so little belief in this stuff. Maybe in this town, more than any others, there could be a little wiggle room for voodoo and the like, but mostly probably only for the voodoo practitioners of old. Skylar here was a newcomer, and that meant she was not one of them.

Gage wondered if she even realized it.

The energy in here was interesting; it was dark, and yet he noticed it had lightened considerably. As he looked over at her, she waved her hands gently, as if brushing a spiderweb from around her. He continued to watch, fascinated, as light beams drifted from her hands, easily lightening the atmosphere of the store. Talk about an interesting trick. Did it help with sales? Or was it merely to bolster her own mood?

Although she didn’t advertise it as a voodoo shop, her store was esoteric in all things. Sure, the typical kitschy tourist stuff was all around, but he highly doubted that she made much money off any of that. If she didn’t, he thought with a frown, while studying the price tags on the items closest to him, how did she survive?

Caught by a question the cop was asking about her whereabouts, she gave a flat answer, her response in a weird monotone, as she stated, “I was upstairs in my apartment.”

“Can anybody verify that?”

“Of course not. If you’re asking if I live alone, yes, I live alone. Did I have friends over last night? No, I had no friends over. Did I go out last night? No, I didn’t go out. I was watching TV.”

“What did you watch?”

It was meant as a trick question, but she gave him a flat smile and named two shows that were just probably true enough that she was off the hook.

The cop wrote it down and asked, “So, you have no idea what happened to this man?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Good, in that case, sorry to bother you.” And he stepped back. The cop looked over at Gage. “I told you it would be useless.” And, with that, he walked out.

Gage turned, then looked at her and asked, “What about the bone?”

Her gaze shot upward to read his expression. “What bone?”

He pointed at the floor. She frowned and walked around the counter and looked, found a small bone, too big to have been a finger bone but nowhere near big enough to be an arm bone. She leaned closer and studied it. “I have no idea where that came from.” She looked over at him suspiciously. “Did you put it here on purpose?”

“Hell no,” he denied forcibly, “but it’s possible that it’s part of my uncle’s collection.”

“Why would he have a collection of bones?”

“Because he found several open graves, and, when he went back to identify the dead, only a few bones were still there and were scattered about. Unfortunately he discovered this after bringing a crowd of people with him to check it out. They all had laughed at him and had taken off.”

“Your uncle does seem a little eccentric,” she murmured.

“Yes, he is, but that does not make him senile or stupid.”

“No, of course not,” she agreed immediately. “Older, slightly rotund, with wispy white hair and a genial smile on his face?”

“That’s him. He’s a good man.”

“He did appear to be very interested in the tarot card set.”

“Yes, but that also could have just been a diversion.”

“For what though?”

“I don’t know.” His angry frustration bled into his tone. “But what are the chances that he left that bone behind?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” she stated helplessly. “I don’t know anything about this.”

Just then the door opened, and a large group of tourists came in. She smiled at them, nudging the bone farther underneath the counter in the display area, so it was hidden from sight. Why? Obviously she was trying to hide it or was it more that she didn’t want to touch it?

Then she turned to face her customers again.

Gage stepped out of the store, separating himself from the crowd of cheerfully chattering tourists. They all looked to be about the same age. Slightly older than fifty, probably younger than seventy, all of them wearing bright clothing. Most were overweight but not horrifically. They were all in shorts and looked to be having a grand old time. Other tourists filled the street, but Gage saw no cops. His phone buzzed, a text from his brother.

Any sign?

No, he texted back immediately.

Studying his surroundings, Gage didn’t know what to do next. He needed to talk to Skylar again, only that wouldn’t happen as long as she had a store full of tourists. He noted the beignets that she had been trying to eat and how lean her face was. She needed another twenty pounds to fill out the hollow planes on her face.

He also noted an odd smell to the store. Whether that was her or the beignets mixed with the bone or something completely different, he had no idea. He wished he could speak to the spirits that he seemed to see milling about her store, but none had stepped forward in any shape or form recognizable as someone in particular who he could talk to. The only time he’d ever successfully talked to a spirit, they’d approached him in human form, with very clear and distinct details, and had spoken to him first.

Those in her store were just ghostly forms in all sizes and shapes, who stood wall-to-wall inside, but he didn’t understand why. He wondered if the spirits were connected to the building. He had now wandered in her store and previously in the other likely stores on this street, but no other shop was full of spirits like Skylar’s was. True, he didn’t see spirits all the time, but her place had been divinely attuned to them, for some reason.

Gage knew he needed to rework his game plan, as he wandered toward the river and sat on a bench. He tuned out the world around him and tried to just focus on the water, calming himself as best he could.

When his phone rang an hour later, it was his brother again, calling this time. “What now?” Gage asked abruptly.

“I don’t know,” Terrence replied. “You tell me. What now?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I am not sure where to look next.”

“Uncle did this all the time. It was his biggest hobby to go wander around town, hit a few shops, and then come home again. So what’s so different now that he’s disappeared?”

“I’ve checked along this street already today. I’m not sure where to go next. I don’t really know my way around here.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised you’re there,” his brother noted. “New Orleans is hardly your type of place, especially the French Quarter. You’ve never been a partier, Gage. Always so serious.”

“Count yourself lucky that I lived in Portland all these years, that you had your serious older brother around all that time. Once I get this merger deal cinched, that allows me to relocate anywhere I want, probably somewhere away from people,” he shared. “No telling where I’ll end up.”

“I know. I know,” Terrence agreed carefully. “I’m just trying to figure out what happened to Uncle.”

“You and me both.” Gage pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing his brother hadn’t called.

“At least you found the shop he went to.” Terrence hesitated. “Do you think she knows anything?”

“About him? No, not at all. About a lot of other things, hell yes.”

“Really?” Terrence’s tone sounded interested. “Like, did you see something?”

“I saw a lot of shapes, like spirits, but none I could talk to,” Gage murmured, grateful his brother knew some of his current troubles.

“That’s too bad because if you could talk to them—”

“We’ve been over this. I can’t, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“I get it. I get it.” Terrence sighed. “But, with that note, we need to get this resolved. Uncle’s got to be somewhere.”

“I’ll go back and talk to her, when the crowds disperse a bit.”

“Well, maybe do something nice for her this time, so you don’t come across so overpowering.”

“Who said I was overpowering?”

“Are you kidding? You didn’t build a very successful business with your charm, bro.”

“You may have a point there. I might pick up lunch for her. She looks like she’s starving.”

A moment of silence passed on the other end, and then his brother chuckled. “You know what? That just might do it. Get some for yourself too, so you don’t come across as a grizzly bear. You probably came on way too strong. Come on. Admit it.”

He winced. “It’s possible.”

“Of course it is. You probably accused her—or at least pushed her psychic buttons all over the place. You know that’s not the way to get cooperation.”

“I don’t know anything about this psychic stuff,” he snapped. “I’m just a newbie. Remember? Only since the accident did I start seeing these apparitions, and you know that.”

“I know, but still it’s intriguing,” he shared. “I almost want to sign up for a car accident myself.”

“Right, of course you do,” he scoffed. “Chances are that wouldn’t go well. So hold off, okay?”

“I know. I’m all too afraid that’s exactly what would happen,” he murmured. “Keep me posted.” And, with that, his brother hung up.

Gage looked around and wondered if 11:30 a.m. was too early to bring her food. Hoping not, he found a restaurant farther down that opened onto the street with an outdoor window, and he headed in that direction. At least if he picked something up, she could eat it whenever.

He hated the fact that he already felt like he needed to feed her. One thing he could never do was walk by and see the homeless or the elderly suffering and without food. He didn’t know why, all of a sudden, she fit into that same category, but apparently she did. With that, he immediately headed to the restaurant and studied the menu, trying to imagine what she might like.

Chapter 2

This group of tourists was thankfully full of energy in abundance, so easily distracted Skylar from the tall stranger leaving her shop. With cheerful faces, they quickly purchased multiple items, including five of the hair sticks that she had just tripled the price on earlier this morning. She smiled as they all walked out, wishing them a happy day. Following on their heels came another group and, after that, still another.

By the time the store was finally empty for the first time later that morning, she smiled and headed to the back, hoping she could squeeze in a cup of coffee before the next group arrived. She cringed a moment later when the bell signaled that the door was opening yet again. Her heart sank because she was really hoping to get that coffee and maybe even rummage in the back to see if she had anything to eat besides the sweet beignets. Instead she turned to see the stranger from earlier.

He walked in, carrying a large take-out bag.

She frowned, staring at it suspiciously, but she recognized the Chinese restaurant’s logo on the bag. He put it down on the counter by the cash register and started pulling out several items. She looked at him and asked, “What’s all this about?”

“A peace offering,” he stated. “I realized that I came on way too strong this morning, and I was completely out of line. I’m sorry, and I hope you’ll accept my apology and some lunch.”

“Well, you certainly came on strong,” she confirmed cautiously. Then her stomach rumbled, as she looked at the food.

“Do you happen to have any coffee to go with it?” he asked.

“Well, I was about to go check out that coffee situation, when you walked in. I could put on a fresh pot,” she offered. “I didn’t even get a chance to drink much this morning, so it’s probably burned and bitter tasting by now.”

“A fresh pot sounds great,” he agreed. “I should have grabbed a couple to-go when I got the food.”

She frowned, not sure she trusted him alone in her store.

He suggested, “I’ll walk back with you, if you’d rather.” At that, she took a step back. He stepped back himself, putting up his hands. “Or else I’ll stand right here until you return. Sorry, I’m not trying to intimidate you.”

Surprised at him picking up on her reluctance, but sensing no malice in his energy, she raced to the back, put on a pot of coffee, and returned to the front of the store, almost amused to see him standing in the exact same place. He looked at her, smiled, and said, “See? I promised, and I stuck to it.”

“Sure, but your presence is still more than a little disturbing.”

“For you?” he asked, with an eyebrow raised.

“I don’t get it,” she stated. “What do you even know about me?”

“Only what my uncle researched about you, and then, of course, with his disappearance, we had no choice but to delve more into your background,” he admitted almost apologetically.

“Surely it’s not that interesting,” she noted.

“Any woman who can talk to bones has my attention.”

She winced at that phrase. “Nobody talks to bones,” she countered, with an airy wave of her hand, hoping he’d let it go at that. And who the hell would even know anything about talking to bones?

“What about all the spirits in here?”

She stared at him. “Are you saying that you see spirits here in my store?”

He snorted. “I can see evidence of the spirits here, but I know, for a fact, that you can talk to them.”

“And how is that?”

“Because I can hear it.”

“You want to explain that?” she demanded.

He hesitated, and then, as if realizing he would have to give something in order to get a little bit of trust back, he began, “Look. My name is Gage Hawkins. A friend and I were at a business dinner a while back. On the way home we were involved in a bad car accident—and, just for the record, I wasn’t drinking. I ended up in a coma for a time, and, when I came out of it, I could see and hear things that nobody could explain.”

At that, she nodded slowly. “It can happen like that sometimes.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “but I didn’t know what I was seeing or hearing, and I didn’t want to tell anybody because all they’d do is say I was seeing and hearing things and refer me to a shrink.”

She stared. “Yeah, that’s a very common response.” So far, everything he said rang true.

He went on. “It took me a long time to realize that I was seeing dead people, and then, when one ghost stepped forward, in a normal-looking human form, he explained it to me. So I could hear him, even though he was a ghost.”

She frowned, while nodding. “So what exactly do you see?”

“I see like glowing white shapes.” He motioned to the side of him.

She looked over to where Thomas stood right beside Gage, his top hat still in place, which was normal for him. “So, what do you see right now?” she asked.

Gage put out his hand toward Thomas again. “This white form has something about ten inches tall or so above his head, and what I presume is his body is just this long skinny white form.”

“His name is Thomas,” she shared. “He was killed over 150 years ago. Somewhere around Lincoln’s era.”

“Interesting,” he replied, as he studied her. “Did he tell you that?”

“Yep, he sure did. Once you open the doorway, they really like to talk,” she stated. “So, when your friend the cop was asking if I was alone last night, my answer was yes, but of course it had to be no.”

He nodded. “Right. I sensed that you weren’t telling the truth.”

“Because, to me, these guys are real,” she stated cheerfully. “Of course I’m comfortable telling you this because, if you go tell the cops, they won’t believe you anyway.” Then she gave him the sweetest smile.

He looked at her in fascination. “You know what? You’re quite right. They would think I had absolutely gone around the bend.”

“And they would refer you for some psychiatric evaluation, perhaps having you committed for however long, until you convince them that it must have been a bad dream or maybe the drugs you were taking that made you say that.”

He stared at her. “You’ve been there, haven’t you?”

Her gaze widened, as she studied him. “Haven’t we all?”

He nodded slowly. “No, you’re right. I did go through a similar session that terrified me.”

“And it should. When people think that you’re off your rocker and are doing things that they don’t understand, they suddenly have all kinds of power over you. You have no idea.”

“I’m sorry. … I didn’t mean to send you down that kind of a negative pathway.”

“Maybe not,” she agreed, “but you must know that you possess a tremendously powerful energy, and, when you walked in this morning, you brought the wind with you. That’s because you were uncomfortable in this situation, and you were using it to try to make you look good.”

He stared at her, and she saw an ever-so-slight flush going up his neck.

She nodded. “So, from one to another, don’t bother trying to make a showy presence upon arrival. None of us appreciate it, and those of us in the industry already know what you’re doing and why.”

“Wow,” he replied. “That was guaranteed to knock me off balance.”

“That wasn’t what I intended to do,” she murmured, backing off slightly, “but it is what you intended to do to me.” As the flush rose a little higher up his neck, she nodded. “Now, with that said and understood, I still don’t understand what this is all about, but, first, it smells like the coffee is done.”

She retreated to her little back room, where she poured two cups and returned. Her amusement grew even greater, as she noted he still hadn’t moved from that one spot. She waved a hand. “You may now move.”

He looked down, and, flushing even more, he asked, “Did you keep me here?”

She seemed surprised. “None of us can do to another what they don’t wish to have done.”