basement storage room. Lamar had said she was being set up, but for what? Her murder? Was Amelia the host to another personality that was killing everyone close to her?
It started to drizzle, and Karen switched on the windshield wipers. “Jessie, I need your opinion,” she said, eyes on the road. “I have a client who says she’s seeing and feeling things that are happening miles and miles away to people in her family-”
“Are you talking about Amelia?”
“A client,” Karen said, knowing she wasn’t fooling Jessie for a second. “Anyway, what do you think of that? Do you believe in ESP or telepathy?”
She was waiting for Jessie to respond with one of those alternative words for
“I believe in it,” Jessie said, after a moment. “If we’re talking about picking up signals and pain from other people, then I say, yes, definitely, especially if you’re close to that other person. I’m a believer now. When my Andy was so sick, I felt every pain he had. Sometimes I’d even wake up in the middle of the night with the pain. And I knew it was Andy, suffering.”
Karen glanced over at Jessie. The headlights, raindrops, and windshield wipers cast shadows across her careworn face. Andy was her son, who had died at age twenty-nine back in 1993.
“He was in Chicago and I was in Seattle. Yet, I felt what he was feeling. If I was sick to my stomach one evening, sure enough, I’d hear the next day that he’d been throwing up half the night. If I had a headache or a dizzy spell, that’s what he was having. I’ve never felt so physically sick and horrible as I did his last week, when he was in the hospice. I was there with him, and for a while, I thought I was going to die there, too.”
Jessie let out a sad, little laugh. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but did I ever tell you that Andy still visits me every Christmas? It was his favorite time of year, you know. When he was younger, he used to go crazy decorating the house for Christmas. If it were up to him, he would have put a Christmas tree in every room. That Christmas after he died, my daughter, Megan, and my granddaughter, Josie, were staying with me. Josie was five at the time. I was about to go to bed when I heard her talking to someone. So I stepped into Andy’s bedroom, where she was sleeping and almost walked into…something that fluttered away, like a bird. It was the weirdest thing. I can’t describe it; it was like a ball of air that whirled around and disappeared. For a minute there, I thought I was going nuts. I asked Josie what was happening. And she said, ‘I was just dreaming about Uncle Andy, Grandma.’
“Something like that has happened every Christmas since,” Jessie continued. “It can be a weird little coincidence, or just this overwhelming feeling, and I know Andy’s there. It’s funny. Even though I know he’s going to show up somehow, he still manages to sneak up on me when I’m not expecting him. So, anyway, I’m no expert on telepathy and ESP and that sort of stuff. But I do know for a fact there are forces out there that keep us connected to the people we love, even after we’ve lost them.”
Karen nodded pensively. She could see Jessie’s block up ahead.
“So tell Amelia if she’s feeling a connection to someone who has died recently, and she’s seeing things, well, she’s not really all that crazy, at least, no crazier than yours truly.”
“I didn’t say it was Amelia, remember?” Karen felt obliged to say.
“Oh, yes, that’s right,” Jessie replied, deadpan.
She turned down Jessie’s block, and checked the rearview mirror again. No one seemed to be following them. Despite Jessie’s protests that she was double-parked and getting wet in the rain, Karen walked her to her front door. She made Jessie promise to call if she felt dizzy or short of breath. Jessie assured her that she’d be fine.
But Karen was worried about leaving Jessie alone, and it wasn’t just because of her little spell earlier, scary as that had been. No, it was because of the other scare Karen had experienced, in the rest home’s basement. Whoever had come after her might decide to go after Jessie.
“Listen,” she said. “I don’t want to worry you, but I read in the
“Well, there isn’t a thing in here worth stealing,” Jessie replied, unlocking her door. “I hardly ever set the alarm.”
“Well, set it tonight, for me, okay? Humor me.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll batten down the hatches. Worrywart.”
Karen hugged Jessie in the doorway, then scurried back into her car. She started up the engine, but sat in the idle car for a moment. The windshield wipers squeaked back and forth, and raindrops pattered on the roof.
She thought about how Jessie had felt her son’s pain, though two thousand miles away from him. Had Amelia made the same kind of connection with her family members when they were killed? Were her nightmarelike visions of their murders a form of telepathy?
Until this afternoon, Karen would have never considered it a possibility. But perhaps Amelia hadn’t really felt a telepathic connection with her loved ones at the time of their deaths.
Maybe she was connected to the person who had killed all of them.
In the shadows of a tall evergreen at the edge of the lot next to Jessie’s house, she stood in the rain. The hood to her windbreaker was up, covering the top of her head. The old Cadillac was parked around the corner. She already knew where Karen’s housekeeper lived; it hadn’t been necessary to follow Jessie down the block. But she’d wanted to hear what Karen and Jessie were saying to each other. So she’d climbed out of the Cadillac and skulked into the neighbor’s yard. She’d only caught snippets of the conversation through the sounds of the wind and rain. It was sweet how Karen had been so worried about Jessie, and even kind of funny, because they’d both be dead before the week was through.
Karen probably had only a slight inkling of how close she’d come to having her throat slit in the basement at the rest home an hour before. Now there was no mistaking it; Karen had seen her. It wasn’t the same as last week’s brush with her in the corridor outside the old man’s room. This time, Karen wouldn’t just
So she’d have to move fast and kill her, before the bitch started talking about her to other shrinks or maybe even to the police. Karen slept every night alone in the big relic of a house. The dog was a slight obstacle. But she’d killed plenty of animals in her time. This one wouldn’t be a problem. And there were plenty of ways to break into that old house, plenty of opportunities.
She watched Karen duck back inside her car, then she just sat idle in the driver’s seat for a few minutes. What was Karen Carlisle thinking about right now?
She had a thought of her own, and it made her smile. She was wondering what they’d tell that senile old man at the rest home next week when he asked why the visits from his daughter had suddenly stopped.
Chapter Ten
“Hi, this is Amelia. Sorry I can’t take your call. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Bye.”
Beep.
“Amelia, it’s Karen again at about 6:15,” she said into her cell. She’d just pulled into her driveway and switched off the ignition. The rain had subsided to a light drizzle. “Listen, I’m home now. So call me, either at home or on my cell. It’s important. Talk to you soon, I hope.” She clicked off the line, shoved her cell phone in her purse, and reached for the car door handle. But she noticed something in her rearview mirror, and suddenly froze. She saw the silhouette of a man as he came up her driveway, toward the car. He was tall and slender with short hair so blond it was almost white. The streetlight was at his back, so she still couldn’t see his face. He wore gray slacks and a dark suit jacket with the lapels turned up to protect him from the drizzle. As he reached the back of the car, Karen quickly locked her door.
