In Julia’s bedroom, as she emptied the trash, something on the small rug in front of the dresser caught her eye. Though she bent to fetch it, she hesitated because she couldn’t quite make out what it was. Instead, she took a tissue from the dispenser on the night stand, and used that to pick it up.
Though it was hard and looked somewhat like a shrunken acorn, it was mostly white. As she held it to the window light for a better look, she realized it was rock hard and hollow in the back. It wasn’t an acorn, of course, but she didn’t know what it was—although it looked familiar.
As she slowly ambled back into the hallway, still holding it in the tissue, she paused.
“Oh, I wonder,” she muttered, peering at it. “Hmm.” Unfortunately she’d never paid particularly close attention to sea life. Someone else would have to identify it, so she carefully wrapped it up.
She took the gathered trash downstairs but left it in the hallway before heading back to her room to find her cell phone. From the frequently dialed numbers, she selected Mac’s.
“Maris,” he said. “Always good to hear from you.”
She smiled. “Good to talk to you too.” She looked down at the tissue. “I’ve come across something interesting here at the B&B, and I was wondering if you might want to stop by and have a look.”
“Something?” he asked. “That sounds mysterious. What have you got?”
“Honestly, I’m not exactly sure.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Okay,” he said. “How about this evening? My day is booked pretty solid.”
“That’d be perfect,” she said.
“Great,” he replied. “See you then.”
11
As Maris went back to the trash bag and started to take it outside, she passed the parlor, looked in, and stopped. Mojo was just hopping up to the coffee table that held the Ouija board. She held still. If ever she and Pixie Point Bay could use some help from the voices of the spirits, it was now.
Though she thought she’d been quiet, he surprised her by looking directly at her. His big orange eyes glittered and then he gave a rather loud version of his signature meow.
“Right,” Maris said, depositing the trash bag in the hallway before she went into the parlor. “Here I am.”
She gave his head a single, gentle rub between the ears, and he quickly sat next to the board. But rather than lift his paw to the planchette, he licked it and then rubbed it over his face. Hands on hips, she glared at him.
“Tell me I wasn’t summoned, front and center, to watch you bathe.” But as he continued his ablutions, it seemed that was exactly what had happened. “Honestly, Mojo,” she said. “I really don’t–”
As though he sensed she’d be leaving in the next instant, he put his paw down and went still.
Though she’d been ready to turn and leave, she paused. Slowly his gaze lifted to the opposite wall, and fixed itself there. His whiskers, which she’d never noticed during one of these sessions, drooped a little.
Was he relaxing?
His unblinking eyes were focused on something in the distance, something that Maris suspected was far beyond the wallpaper or even the confines of the house. Meanwhile though, his ears easily made up for the thousand-yard stare. They went into overdrive, the soft triangles swiveling to and fro, hearing something or listening for something, Maris didn’t know which. As she watched, it even seemed as though he sighed.
She cocked her head at him. Either she hadn’t been paying close enough attention in the past or he’d changed his routine.
Then, ever so slowly, his front paw reached out and came down lightly on the heart shaped planchette. He moved it, in a stately pace, from the middle of the board closer to him, stopping over the X.
“What in the world?” Maris whispered.
X-ray…or maybe Xerox, she thought, only to have her guesses thwarted by the next letter, on the opposite side of the board: A.
She scowled and shook her head. ‘XA’ made no sense whatsoever. Even stranger was the way he was going from one side of the board to the other, because the planchette slid all the way back to him, landing on the ‘V.’
Maris almost laughed. This could not be a clue.
As the planchette began another journey back across the board, it abruptly stopped in the middle: I.
She frowned down at the letter under the plastic lens, wracking her brain. Though she’d never been great at spelling or word games, this was simply insoluble.
But the next two letters were close to the ‘I.’ In quick succession the planchette paused over the ‘E’ and then ‘R’ before Mojo took his paw from it.
“Xavier,” she whispered.
It wasn’t a word, as such, but rather a name.
Mojo blinked up at her, then stood. He took a moment to shake out his fur, and jumped down to the floor. Though she knew it would do no good, she was compelled to ask anyway.
“Xavier Who?” she said to him, following him out to the hall.
He didn’t even look back, but headed to their bedroom and disappeared into it.
She cupped a hand around her mouth. “Thanks just the same.”
As she turned back to the trash and picked it up, she had no idea who Xavier might be. But the one thing she did know was that, whoever he was, he’d be important.
At that moment, Cookie emerged from the pantry, with a piece of paper in her hand. On it, Maris could see that the chef’s elegant handwriting had created a list.
“Are you going into town any time soon?” the older woman asked. “If not, this can wait. It’s just the usual.”
Maris thought for a moment. “I’d be delighted to make the shopping run,” she said. “Let me just take out the trash, and I’ll get that list
