Celeste Files: Unlocked Part 5

"Is Sandra your friend's mother?"

"Yes, and I was able to get an object for a reading. I'm not sure how useful it'll be, but I figured it was worth a try." Celeste took the wooden pen from her purse. "It belongs to Kelly's sister, Lea."

"Do you suspect Lea is behind her own mother's murder?"

She blew out a breath. "I don't know what to think," she said, then told Maxine about the exchange at Kelly's townhouse.

"Ah, the list of suspects increases. Tread lightly. Remember, without evidence you can do nothing for Sandra."

"Right. So what do you say to us trying another reading?"

Maxine pulled a notepad from the desk, then brought it to her. "Maybe you should use the pen for your scribbles."

"Okay. It's worth a shot."

"Do you want me to leave again?" Maxine asked. "I promise this time I won't sneak back into the room."

Celeste smiled. "No, it's okay. And I'm sorry for the way I reacted yesterday. That last reading was...different." She shrugged. "For whatever reason."

"You know why," Maxine said, and took a seat in the opposite chair. "I suspect you might feel a connection to Sandra because of your mother. I'm curious about her."

"My mom?"

"Yes, what was her name?"

"Janice."

"Ian told me a bit about her when he first called me about you two years ago. Based on what he'd said, I believe your mom was able to speak to the dead, not just feel their auras."

From what she'd read in her mom's journals, Celeste had come to the same conclusion. "Maybe. We'll never know." Which irritated her. Why wouldn't her mom have given her more guidance? Had her mom a.s.sumed she didn't have the same capabilities? "It doesn't matter now. What does is trying to piece this puzzle together."

"If you say so."

"What does that mean?" she asked, defensive. Back in Wisconsin, when the dead had begun to use her body to speak vicariously through her, there had been times when she'd resented her mom. She'd died. Abandoned her without making sure she'd had the knowledge she would need to understand the true potential of her gift. Or curse.

"I believe it does matter. There's a strong possibility that you could have her talent. And if you do..." Maxine leaned forward and touched her hand. "Let's worry about that later."

Celeste didn't care for the other woman's ominous tone. "You brought it up, so maybe we should worry about it now."

Maxine's forehead creased as she frowned. "Celeste, I can speak to the dead, but I've never had those that have pa.s.sed use my body to physically tell their story. Quite frankly, I hope to G.o.d I never will. You, on the other hand, have had this happen to you. It's a gift that could be deadly if you're not aware how to control it."

"But with the scribbles, I can keep myself grounded, right?"

"I don't know. Ink on a page might not be enough."

"On the way over here, I had that queasy feeling again. I put all of my thoughts and energy into John, and it subsided a bit. Maybe he grounds me, too."

"Maybe." Maxine gave her a rea.s.suring smile. "But let's worry about that later. I'm here with you now, should anything happen. And, honestly, I would prefer if you didn't do a reading without me. As your gift continues to return, it could grow stronger. Before your mind suppressed it, you were already at a level that exceeds my...comfort zone. If that makes sense."

It made absolute sense. h.e.l.l, she couldn't remember her past trances, but based on the recording she'd heard, on how she'd physically hurt herself-without any memory-she'd gone beyond exceeding her comfort zone, too.

She glanced to Lea's pen, which sat on the table between her and Maxine. "Am I better off pretending I never saw anything? It could be I'm wrong and Sandra did commit suicide. Maybe my mind-"

"Pick up the pen, Celeste. You can't pretend this away. Better yet, ask yourself...can I go to Sandra's funeral and allow her to be buried without knowing the truth? If you're right, Sandra needs justice in order for her spirit to rest."

"And if I'm wrong?"

Maxine leaned into the chair and raised a challenging brow. "There's only one way to find out."

Chapter 6.

CELESTE PRESSED THE wood pen against the paper and stared at it as she began to draw circles. The grain of the wood was twisted and warped, the effect almost hypnotizing. She closed her eyes and forced herself to concentrate on the pen's owner, and once again imagined that the loops and curves were energy. She pictured the ink rising from the page, then wrapping around her like a rope and dragging her into the shadows. Into the unknown.

As the ink rope yanked her, she opened her mind, saw the pen suspended in blackness. It twirled in the air as if it were a baton, then stopped and pointed down. When she reached for it, the pen zipped away, leaving a trail of red ink in its wake. Curious, anxious to see where the pen would lead her, she quickly rushed after it, grabbled the end, then let it take her for a ride.

The pen moved faster and faster. In the distance she saw the blackness turning into a foggy gray. She knew she needed to move beyond the gray and into the light. Opening her mind, welcoming the unknown she allowed the pen to take over, take her deeper into that familiar vortex until- "There's...to cover...bills."

A man? The voice doubled over itself in an indiscernible echo. Celeste looked around and tried desperately to see who had spoken. For whatever reason, she couldn't. Unlike yesterday, nothing was clear. Instead it was a blur, as if she were looking through a camera lens that was out of focus.

"Celeste, where are you?"

Maxine. She sounded so far away. "I don't know."

"Is there someone with you?"

Celeste glanced to the left. A sudden sharp pierce needled its way behind her right eye as an out-of-focus figure emerged. "Yes. I can't tell who, or if they're a man or a woman." Another figure showed itself. "Wait, there's someone else here."

"What do you sense, Celeste?" Maxine asked, her voice soothing and keeping her more grounded than the scribbles. "What do you feel?"

She gasped. "Desperation. Fear. Wait-"

"And whose fault is that?" This voice was stronger than the other had been and, although it echoed over itself, she knew without a doubt that it was a woman's. But was it Lea's? "Maybe if you hadn't gambled our money away, we-"

"Me?" A dark-gray aura moved in the shadows. "You're the one who wanted to live here and said we could afford it." As the voice became clearer, she realized it belonged to a man. "How could you put us in this position?"

The woman moved. So strange. Celeste could see the subtle outline of her figure, but she hung in the air contorting like a wisp of black smoke in a funhouse mirror. "If you were half the man you bragged to be we would be-"

"I make good money."

"It's not enough," the woman yelled, her figure becoming reddish-black.

"It never was." He snorted, his aura turning to a mustard color. "That b.i.t.c.h spoiled you, and now you think you deserve anything you want."

"When that b.i.t.c.h dies I will get what I want. Three hundred thousand dollars will not only cover the bills you're so worried about, but-"

The man laughed-the sound harsh, cruel. "You keep telling yourself that. But you and I both know we can't count on that money."

The woman's smoky black figure moved toward him. "Why do you say that?"

"Because your b.i.t.c.h of a mother hates me. She doesn't want me touching her money. Remember when I asked her for a loan?" His aura turned brown. "She humiliated me."

The woman drifted closer, her blackness touching him. "Let it go. It won't be long before she's gone."

"You said that months ago."

"It's only a matter of time. We can get through this until she's gone." She caressed what Celeste a.s.sumed was the man's face. "I don't want to talk about her anymore," she said, her tone seductive. "I want you on the bed and in the position. Would you like that?"

"Yes," he said, his voice an eerie echo.

"Good. Go upstairs and get ready. If you're not in position by the time I get up there your punishment won't be easy. Do you understand?"

His aura changed colors-fading from brown into a dark red. "I understand."

He disappeared. Celeste gasped and quickly searched for him.

"Celeste, what's wrong?" Maxine asked, her voice filled with concern.

She ignored her mentor and placed all of her energy on the woman left in the room. The woman moved around as if locking a door and shutting off lights, then stilled.

Celeste stared at her, trying desperately to break past her barriers and hear her thoughts. The piercing behind her eye grew excruciatingly painful. "She won't let me in," she said, hoping Maxine could hear her.

"Compel her. Call to her," Maxine ordered. "Remember, what you're seeing isn't real. It's a plane of the past, present or future. She won't know you. Hurry. Do it now."

The woman began to move again.

"Who are you?" Celeste asked.

When the figure didn't stop, she shouted, "I asked you a question. Now answer me. Who are you?"

The woman paused. The black smoke that made up her body undulated, twirled, then twisted into an unnatural smile, before shooting up. Celeste followed her, then sucked in a breath. The woman's blackness coated whatever was above them. It moved, bubbled and, in some places, burst.

Celeste jumped back when black sludge dripped around her. Afraid it would touch her, infect her with the evil she sensed, she willed herself to return to the safety of Maxine's parlor. She was met with laughter. Coldness enveloped her. She turned to run back into the tunnel that had brought her here, but slammed into a wall. She looked to the left, to the right. Nothing but stark white walls surrounded her.

Then blackness oozed and dripped along those walls, intensifying the urgency to run. But there was no escape. She was blocked. Trapped. "Maxine," she cried. "Help me."

"I'm here. Don't let the vision control you. It's in your head. You can make it change. Hurry. Come back to me."

The laughter continued. She ignored it, and searched for the pen that had brought her here. When she found it lying on the white floor, she reached for it, and her arm stretched beyond its normal length, her fingers tingling to touch it. The woman's cackle clouded her head, but she blocked it and grabbed the pen.

"You're not real," she murmured, and didn't think about scribbles on a paper, but John. His dark-brown, loving eyes. His smile that always warmed her soul. His strong arms around her, lying her hand against his chest and feeling the beat of his heart, the love that- Celeste sucked in a breath. Blinked several times, then shoved the pen and paper from her lap and on to the floor. "I've never seen or felt anything like that before." She looked to Maxine, who had paled. "It was...evil."

Maxine nodded and looked away. "I've had experience with malevolent spirits. But I'm talking about the dead, not the living. Tell me everything, Celeste."

She s.h.i.+vered and rubbed her arms. "Yesterday, I was able to see Sandra, the room she was in and even some of the details of that room. Remember I told you I'd heard music? It had been crystal clear. Everything about that vision had been clear. But this one...I couldn't tell where I was or who was with me. The two figures reminded me of thick smoke, or if you put droplets of food coloring into a gla.s.s of water. They would move and s.h.i.+ft, but never fully manifested into human form." She ran a shaky hand along her forehead. "G.o.d, that sounds weird."

"It's not weird. At all. It sounds like you saw their auras."

"Yes, that's it exactly. And they kept changing colors. The male's started gray, turned a deep mustard, then brown. Later, he became dark red."

"And the other aura?"

"It was female and black. Toward the end, wherever I was had changed. I was trapped in a white room. No windows, no doors. She...it..." Celeste let out a deep breath. "Her aura changed and...liquefied. It coated the ceiling. Like thick hot tar, it oozed and bubbled. I was so afraid of what would happen if it touched me." She stared at Maxine. "What would her aura or whatever it was have done to me?"

"I haven't a clue, but I don't recommend trying to find out. I do find it interesting that the male's aura had so many changes. There's no concrete evidence what the colors of a person or spirit's aura indicates. In my experience, though, gray signifies depression or dark thoughts. The mustard color, I'm not quite sure. But from past experience, the brown could indicate insecurity."

Celeste jerked forward and slapped the armrest. "Yes. That makes sense. He turned brown after he complained that the 'b.i.t.c.h had humiliated him' when she'd turned him down for a loan. The question is, who's the b.i.t.c.h? Sandra? I mean, I'm a.s.suming so. They discussed the money they would get from her when she died."

"Perhaps their greed got the best of them," Maxine suggested. "They could no longer afford to wait for Sandra to die on her own and decided to take matters into their own hands."

"Maybe. I do know the female was counting on receiving three hundred grand."

Maxine's finely arch eyebrows rose. "Interesting. What else do you remember?"

She told her everything. Unlike the visions she'd had of Sandra, or those she'd experienced in the past, the details from this one stayed locked in her memory. Along with tainted wickedness so cloying that she wanted to go home and take a hot bath in order to feel clean again.

"I've experienced this type of deep-rooted hatred once before," Celeste said, after she'd finished describing what she had seen. "I think what's unsettling is the female has to be Lea."

"You did say this was her pen."

"And I also told you how Kelly's husband gave Lea a couple of shots about her maxed-out credit cards and her car being repossessed." She looked across the room to the gnome on the mantle. "What I find strange is that Lea came off...dominant."

Maxine chuckled. "Yes. She wanted him in position or he would be punished. You said his aura turned a dark red. That might indicate s.e.xual thoughts."

Her cheeks grew warm. "It's none of my business what people do in their bedroom or if they like to get their kink on, but what strikes me as odd is that Lea's husband is supposedly a big-time attorney. He works for one of the largest law firms in Chicago and last year made partner. I can't see a man like him allowing his wife to dominate him in the bedroom."

"I can," Maxine said. "I once knew the CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation who spent his days ordering people around and dealing with the stress and pressure that went along with his position. But, in the privacy of his bedroom, he wanted to give up all control and let his partner take the lead."

"I couldn't imagine John going along with me telling him to get into position or he'd be punished," she said. "It's not our thing."

"Nor mine, which is why that marriage didn't last past four months."

Celeste stared at the other woman, waiting for her to crack a smile to indicate she was joking. When there was nothing, Celeste asked, "You're serious?"

"Yes, and I trust you'll keep that private information to yourself. While he's no longer a CEO and has retired, he has children from a previous marriage and I highly doubt he would want them to know about his s.e.xual...preferences." Maxine winked. "Pick up the notepad and make a few bullet points."

"You said 'that' marriage. I take it you were married before the CEO," she said, grabbing the paper and pen from the floor.

"Seven times." Maxine lifted a shoulder. "I might be psychic, but I'm a lousy judge of character when it comes to men." She looked to the notepad. "Did you draw anything this time?"

Celeste ran her hands over the dried ink. "No." She showed her the paper. "As it is, I can hardly make out my scribbles. What does a black aura mean? I'm a.s.suming it's a sign of a person with a dark personality."

"Absolutely. I've seen black in a few peoples' auras. Not all of them were bad, but their spirits were cold. What's interesting is there are usually other colors present. With what you described, I'd say the woman definitely has a dark, unforgiving soul."