Kristin Ashe: Disorderly Attachments Part 29

"Had Geri given Carolyn any indication she was attracted to her?"

"No."

I let out a breath. "Was Geri receptive to Carolyn's advances?"

"Not at all."

"She must have done something...flirting, hints, innuendoes?"

"Nothing. The connection existed only in Dr. O'Keefe's mind."

"Did Carolyn know about your affair with Geri?" I said delicately.

Amy replied, with little emotion, "It wasn't an affair. We slept together once and realized our mistake."

"But Carolyn knew?"

"Yes. Geri told her at the conference, to stop her advances."

"How did Carolyn react?"

"She started to scream and throw things."

I bent over and put my head between my legs, but the pounding in my ears wouldn't subside. "Carolyn became violent?"

"Almost. Geri had to threaten to call hotel security before she would leave."

"How did the two of them make it through the rest of the conference?"

"They didn't. Geri left in the morning."

"How soon after the conference did Geri's lover Joan commit suicide."

"Within a few weeks."

"Did you know Joan?"

"Only to say h.e.l.lo at school functions."

"Do you believe Joan killed herself because of Geri's affair?"

"No," Amy said firmly. "Joan had tried to kill herself twice before she met Geri. She suffered from anxiety attacks and was taking medications to counter medications. Geri thought she could change her, but she couldn't. No one could."

"Mmm."

"Geri didn't cause Joan to take her life," Amy Mercer said, not yielding. "Nor did I."

"Did Joan know about Geri's involvement with you?"

"Yes."

"You're certain?"

"Yes. Joan confronted Geri the night before she died."

"How did Joan find out about the two of you?"

"Dr. O'Keefe had informed her."

I blinked rapidly. "What happened to Geri after the graduation ceremony, after she saw Carolyn's airplane banner?"

"She resigned the next day. Too many people in the stadium understood the meaning of the banner, and she couldn't face them. Most of the staff knew she'd been in a long-term relations.h.i.+p with a woman named Joan. The rest of the story, they could probably guess."

"Did you see the plane fly over?"

"No. I was inside the school, with a student who had become ill."

"After she resigned, did Geri go on to pursue her dream of writing curriculum?"

"I don't know."

"You're not in touch with her?"

"No."

"But you were in love with her?" I said levelly.

There was a long pause before she replied, "Yes."

"Do you still teach French at Rangeview?"

"No," Amy Mercer said softly. "I'm working as a receptionist for a winds.h.i.+eld repair company."

After I left the flower shop, I took a slow walk around the block, willing myself to calm down, unwilling to let Fran Green see me upset.

By the time I returned to the office, thankfully she'd left for her bimonthly haircut.

I didn't see her again until three o'clock, when she, Roberta, Ca.s.s and I a.s.sembled at the Fielder mansion for another tour. The daytime excursion did nothing to change my opinion, or Roberta's.

I despised the Fielder mansion, and she loved it.

I'd had my fill of the dark, smelly s.p.a.ce, and yet I had to return at least one more time-to see Flax's hideout in the bas.e.m.e.nt.

Why had I agreed to that?

I had to learn to say no, at least to twelve-year-olds.

As the four of us stood on the porch, Ca.s.s presented Roberta with a twenty-page report and a packet of photographs.

Roberta scowled at the photos Flax had taken. "There's no question the house is haunted?"

"None," Ca.s.s replied calmly. "I've included electronic and photographic evidence, which is extremely rare."

"You're implying the Fielder mansion is more haunted than most?"

"It may be."

Fran added, "No reason for knee-buckling to be a deal-killer, Bert. Ca.s.s's specialty is unhaunting houses."

Ca.s.s smiled slightly. "I wouldn't put it that way. There's no foolproof way to banish ghosts, but I'd love to offer you a psychic house-clearing."

Roberta frowned. "What takes place in this so-called clearing?"

"I dislodge stagnant energy using bright lights and loud noises, and I burn incense and candles. By removing residual energy, I unblock the flow."

Roberta seemed torn. "What qualifies you to do this?"

Fran answered with pride, "Ca.s.s is prez of the Paranormal Society of Colorado."

"You believe you can conduct a successful exorcism and certify no malevolent spirits remain before I hand over a check to Hazel Middleton for five hundred thousand dollars?"

Fran, sensing Ca.s.s's agitation, b.u.t.ted in again, "Better not call it an exorcism."

"Why?" I said, s.h.i.+elding the sun from my eyes. Had I missed this nuance at the slumber party?

Ca.s.s said stiffly, "Because the term exorcism implies spirits are evil or dangerous, which most aren't. My function is to eliminate the dead person's corpulent energy, which has been left behind because of some type of attachment."

"How will you go about this precisely?" Roberta asked.

"Nothing I do is precise."

Fran hastily interjected, "Ca.s.s wants to burn candles in the house for a few weeks, to help dissipate the energy."

"Wouldn't that put the house at risk for fire?"

"Fran or I would be here the entire time," I a.s.sured Roberta.

"We'd do it a couple times a day," Fran elaborated. "With extinguishers in every room. Then, the Ca.s.smeister will perform her magic."

Ca.s.s looked uncomfortable. "I'll burn sage to cleanse and purify the areas that we've identified as infected."

"Clean the slate," Fran said. "Let the new homeowners bring in their own disasters and tragedies." She laughed loudly at her own joke, but no one joined her.

After an awkward pause, Ca.s.s spoke. "I also burn sweet cedar in a smudge pot to-"

Fran interrupted, "Replace negative energy with positive."

"Positive is good," Roberta said encouragingly, although she looked slightly bewildered.

"Heck, yeah! Positive as in cash flow," Fran pointed out.

"Finally," Ca.s.s continued, "I speak to the spirits and ask them to leave."

"This works?" Roberta said mildly.

"Typically in one visit, but if necessary, I'll return."

Fran threw in, "Until they've successfully relocated."

"Where do they go?" I asked, which netted a sideways glare from Fran.

Ca.s.s looked at me thoughtfully. "I can't say there is a where. I just know they're gone. In addressing the spirits, I invite them to go wherever they need to go, but I've never presupposed where that is."

"Any recalcitrant ones?" Roberta asked.

Total silence.

Fran said eventually, "Translation, Bert?"

"Have you encountered spirits who have refused to obey?"

"A handful," Ca.s.s admitted. "But most disappear immediately after the energy s.h.i.+fts."

"You do this full-time?"

"Yes, for the past year."

"And before that?"

"As a hobby since I was in elementary school and as a part-time business for ten years."

Ca.s.s's work experience must have impressed Roberta, because she reached into her purse for her checkbook. "I a.s.sume you can provide references?"

"Pages," Fran said.

"I know it sounds as if I lead a weird life," Ca.s.s acknowledged, "but we have a mutual acquaintance who can vouch for my integrity. Joseph McConnell."

"As in McConnell Mortuaries?" Fran said.

Ca.s.s and Roberta nodded, and Roberta said, "Joseph is a dear friend. I've done legal work for the family for years."

"Mr. McConnell hired me to cleanse the mortuary in southwest Denver."

"The one he closed down and converted into a nightclub? He never mentioned a cleansing."

"Most people don't," Ca.s.s said. "It took a while to clear the crypt, but the other areas were straightforward. In its hundred years of operation, more than fifty thousand bodies were processed there, including some of the West's most famous outlaws."