“No,” Ethan said, walking to her. “I don’t want pancakes. I want to know what’s going on with Autumn. Did you believe her story about speaking to her father in her head when he was in prison hundreds of miles away, and speaking to this Dillon last Thursday night? Is that why you doubted her story about the cemetery, because she’s told you stories like this before?”
Joanna wrapped her arms around herself and began pacing the small kitchen.
“Joanna?”
Autumn said, “Mama, I told Ethan we were going to tell Uncle Tollie, and he’s not here. We need to tell Ethan, explain it to him.”
Ethan said, a hint of sarcasm breaking through, “I’d sure appreciate anything you deign to tell me about all this, Joanna.”
That got her. She drew up and stared him straight in the eye. “Very well, Sheriff, I will. Autumn has a special gift, one I didn’t believe at first either until I met the Backmans in Bricker’s Bowl and saw what Blessed could do. She inherited it from her father, and I think that’s why they want to get her back, because she has the same gift her father had.”
“You mean that Autumn has the ability to do the things Blessed can do?”
“No, she can’t hypnotize people. But I believe Autumn can speak telepathically to some people. Not all that many people, but naturally with her father, and it seems this Dillon as well. Autumn, you really called this man who killed the bank robbers?”
Autumn nodded and took a small bite of her toast.
Joanna said, “He was crazy, what he did. What if there had been children in that bank?”
“He’s a hero,” Autumn said again, her chin going up. “He was real nice to me, Mama. I mean, he was surprised when I called him, but he didn’t freak or anything like that. We talked. But I’ve tried to get him a bunch more times, but he wasn’t there. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but you’re so worried about me, I didn’t want to scare you more. And you told me not to talk to anyone except Uncle Tollie.”
Ethan looked from one to the other. He wasn’t angry for the simple reason that he’d had to accept Blessed as a reality. He didn’t want to believe any of this, but there was Blessed, always Blessed, and Autumn was Blessed’s niece. “Can you speak to your mother telepathically, Autumn?”
Autumn shook her head. “I wish I could, but Mama can’t hear me. I don’t try to talk to people anymore. If they hear me, they think they’re crazy. Well, there was the boy at the gas station, and he liked talking to me in his brain, once he got used to it. He called me dude. He’d say, ‘Hello, dude.’ He was always wanting to borrow money from He thought I was a teenager, like him.”
“Try to talk to me, Autumn.”
She did try, and so did he. He concentrated on her, concentrated on relaxing, on opening up, but nothing happened. He had to admit he was relieved.
Joanna said, “I overheard Shepherd say she knew Autumn had her father’s gift. The only thing is, I don’t really know how she knew it.” Joanna broke off and looked at her daughter. “Oh, no, you didn’t say something to them, did you, baby?”
“She sneaked it out of me, Mama. She was handing me a glass of really bad lemonade and she asked me— like she wasn’t really paying attention or she didn’t care—if I spoke to my daddy very often and I nodded before I thought about it. She smiled at me and said when my daddy was young, he could always call her from wherever he happened to be. She’d always been sorry she couldn’t talk back to him when he called her, but she couldn’t, but she bet I could, couldn’t I? I nodded. I told her I could talk to Daddy anytime because it never cost any money.
“She said she just knew my daddy hadn’t called her in more years than even she could count, and wasn’t that sad? I didn’t think it was sad because she’s so scary, but I didn’t say so. She said she’d tried and tried to call him, but it never worked. She asked if I would try to talk to her in her head, but I knew that wasn’t good. I ran away. I’m sorry, Mama.”
Joanna hugged her tightly. “It’s all right,” she said, though she knew it wasn’t okay at all. “I can see how it happened, sweetie.”
She looked at Ethan. “Martin never hinted that he had a gift. It was probably all tied up in his mind with his family, and he wanted no part of it. It was only after he went to prison that he called to Autumn telepathically, maybe because he missed her so much. She was only four years old, but he got right through. Apparently they could see each other while they spoke, so he did see his daughter growing up. Martin didn’t want Autumn to tell me about it until she was older because he knew I’d be upset, most likely not believe her, think she was sick. Then he died unexpectedly and Autumn told me.
“I knew Autumn was grieving him terribly, and I thought she was imagining it, that it was her way of not letting him go. But after visiting the Backmans, I believe her. I’ve talked to her about it for a very long time this past week, and she’s told me things her daddy said that she couldn’t have known about without his telling her.
“I wasn’t ready to tell you or anyone, Sheriff, because I haven’t figured out yet how I can protect this child, not only from Blessed but from anyone else who would take advantage of her. But I will do anything to keep her out of the Backmans’ hands. Anything.”
For the first time in his professional life, Ethan felt uncertain to the soles of his size-twelves. Joanna obviously believed it all, but she couldn’t prove it to him, or to anyone else. He was an earthling, and he felt like someone had thrown him into an alternate universe. Something within him fought against believing it, demanded more proof. But there was Blessed.
Always Blessed.
27
GEORGETOWN, WASHINGTON, D.C.
Monday evening
They arrived home about nine o’clock, the Porsche’s gas tank nearly kissing empty. They were greeted by a hysterical Astro, who’d been chasing kernels of popcorn Sean was throwing to him. Gabrielle was on the living room floor, laughing as Astro jumped over her, back and forth, chasing more popcorn. They joined in the game but not or long. Both of them were exhausted.
Autumn called him at midnight.
He turned on the bedside lamp. He was clearer to her now. She saw he had black whiskers. She could see his dark eyes. He looked wonderful.
She was so happy he was there she nearly burst with it.
A heat of silence, but she saw a brief smile on his mouth.
She old him about Sheriff Ethan Merriweather and his three pets, particularly all about Lula, who always caught the most kibble. She told him how maybe the sheriff really believed now that she was talking to Dillon, but . . .
She told him how Blessed put the whammy on Ox, but Ethan had helped snap him out of it with a hard kick to
