The Witch's Grave Part 15

Tangled up in all the questions, I almost missed the boarding call for my flight. Hurrying, I shoved the book in the pocket of my bag and joined the other pa.s.sengers.

Once strapped in my seat, I entertained myself by looking out the window. In a short time we were in the air, flying through cloudless skies over the Midwest, back toward St. Louis.

I leaned my head against the window and watched the earth below. The fields resembled the patchwork quilt lying on Abby's bed. Squares in shades of light and dark green marked the pastures and growing crops, while brown rectangles showed fallow land. Scattered amidst the fields were houses and farmsteads, reminding me of the little pieces to a Monopoly game.

Lost in my fanciful imaginings, I felt my eyes grow heavy.

The sound of the flight attendant pus.h.i.+ng an empty cart up the aisle woke me with a start. Dang, I'd missed the free peanuts. Dang, I'd missed the free peanuts. Turning toward the window, I spied the city of St. Louis and the Gateway Arch gleaming in the early evening sun. Turning toward the window, I spied the city of St. Louis and the Gateway Arch gleaming in the early evening sun.

Good, I'm almost there. I can get on with my mission to find Karen Burns.

Thirty minutes later I stood at the baggage claim waiting for my luggage to shoot down the ramp onto the carousel. As I did, I went over my list in my head. Call Abby and tell her a big, fat lie; try Karen Burns again; my reservation at the Renaissance Grand near Laclede's Landing was already made. But did I want a taxi, or did I want to rent a car? Call Abby and tell her a big, fat lie; try Karen Burns again; my reservation at the Renaissance Grand near Laclede's Landing was already made. But did I want a taxi, or did I want to rent a car?

Tapping my foot, I thought about it. I didn't know my way around St. Louis, so I'd need a car with GPS. And by chauffeuring myself around, it might be easier to track down the elusive Karen Burns.

Okay, next step-rent a car.

A sudden hand on my shoulder made my heart jump. They've found me They've found me ricocheted in my head. ricocheted in my head.

And they had-I whirled around to face my lovely grandmother with a steely light s.h.i.+ning in her green eyes.

"You didn't think you could go off without me, did you?"

I didn't need to rent a car. Abby had beaten me to St. Louis by driving instead of flying. We picked up my bags and headed toward the hotel.

Buckled in, I rubbed my palms nervously on my thighs. I couldn't make myself look at Abby. "I wasn't trying to shut you out," I blurted.

Her eyes darted toward me. "I don't like lies and secrets, Ophelia."

Shamefaced, I hung my head. "I know...I just wanted to keep you safe."

Out of the corner of my eye I caught Abby's sardonic grin. "May I remind you I've managed to do just fine for over seventy years?"

"I know..." I hesitated, lifting my head and studying her. "But it appears I'm a target, and I don't want you caught in the cross fire, be exposed to danger."

Abby snickered. "My darling girl, I had a life before you were born. I grew up in the mountains. Poverty, moons.h.i.+ners, revenuers..." Her voice faded and her eyes took on a faraway look. "I've seen my fair share of violence."

Surprised, I s.h.i.+fted sideways in my seat. Abby had always talked as if life in the mountains had been idyllic. I'd never considered that there might have been a darker side. "Really? Like what?"

Her head snapped toward me and back. "Never mind."

Subject closed.

"How did you find me?" I asked, studying her profile.

"Your pa.s.sword," she replied with a smirk. "It took me about five minutes to figure it out, by the way. Once I'd done that, I checked your e-mails and saw your flight reservation."

Okay, so maybe I didn't love the Internet.

I slumped in my seat. "Don't you think that's an invasion of my privacy?"

"Drastic times...drastic measures," she said simply.

"What were you doing at my house in the first place?"

"I brought you lunch. I knew how upset you were with Tink gone, and I was afraid you wouldn't eat. I stopped by Stumpy's and Arthur made your favorite sandwich."

"Hot sausage?" My stomach rumbled. I had forgotten to eat. I'd even missed out on the peanuts.

She heard the gurgling. "Yes," she said with a quick "serves you right" glance.

"Shoot." I pressed on my stomach as I twisted in my seat. "Let's eat after we check in, okay?"

"Fine, but no food until you tell me exactly what you're doing," she replied, her voice determined.

"You're going to starve me?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

She grinned. "If you're near starvation, then I suggest you start talking."

In the time it took us to drive to the hotel, I spilled everything-the instant connection I'd felt with Stephen, the dreams, leaving out the more t.i.tillating parts, of course.

Finished, I watched her, trying to judge her reaction. "What do you think?"

"Oh my," she whispered.

My forehead wrinkled. "That's it...'oh, my'?" I groused. "That's not very helpful."

Abby pursed her lips. "I've never come across something like this before. I need to contemplate all the implications."

"Do you know what happens in the mind when someone's in a coma?" I snapped my fingers. "Of course you do-you were out of it for a couple of days when Charles Thornton conked you on the head. What was it like?"

"Dreams-" she faltered. "Lots of dreams that never end."

I thought back to that time when Abby lay in the hospital and we were so afraid she might never wake up. "Remember when I almost unleashed the Elements, but your voice stopped me at the last minute?"

"Yes, and it's a good thing it did," she said stridently.

"I agree," I answered with a wave of my hand, "but that's not what I meant. Were you aware of what I was doing?"

She tapped a finger on the steering wheel. "I can't answer that. My memory of that time is rather jumbled. I do remember feeling your need for vengeance."

"But you don't remember reaching out to me?"

"Not really," she said with a shake of her head.

"I need to know if that might be what Stephen is doing-contacting me with his mind. And the Paris stuff is some kind of symbolism."

"Maybe." She looked thoughtful. "You said you felt an immediate and strong link with him?"

Recalling the first set of dreams, the erotic ones, I blushed. "Yes."

"It was as if you'd always known him?"

"Yes." I shot her a perplexed look.

"Hmm." She fell silent.

"What?"

Still not answering me, Abby parked the car, got out, and handed the keys to the valet. We removed our luggage and headed toward the entrance.

I scrambled after her, hurrying to catch up. When I did, I tugged on her jacket.

"What do you think?"

"Well, when someone feels such a strong tie to a person they've just met, it could mean..." Her voice trailed away as she looked at me with a question in her eyes. "Have we ever discussed reincarnation?"

Eighteen The hotel lobby was elegant. Muted light reflected off soft neutral walls, and pots of large green plants placed around the room offered a sharp contrast. After entering, we turned left to the reception desk. Abby handled the desk clerk, while I stood silent, still turning over the reincarnation thing in my head.

What I knew about it would fill one page in a very small notebook. I did understand the concept that we all had lessons to learn, and according to some, we kept going around lifetime after lifetime until those lessons were mastered.

A nudge to my side brought my thoughts back to the present, and I followed Abby over to the gorgeous Art Deco elevator. Once inside, I watched the floors zip by. The bell dinged and the doors slid smoothly open. Exiting, we got our bearings and proceeded down the carpeted hall to our adjoining rooms.

Abby glanced over her shoulder. "You're very quiet. Did I upset you?"

"No," I muttered, pulling my small suitcase behind me. "If you're right about reincarnation, it's just one more thread leading nowhere."

At the door to my room, Abby released her suitcase and placed her hands on my shoulders. "We'll talk later, but let's eat first. I'll call Arthur, then we'll find a restaurant. Okay?"

"Fine," I mumbled, giving her a peck on the cheek.

My room matched the elegance of the lobby. A king-size bed, piled with pillows, sat along one wall; on the other wall, a large TV armoire with drawers, and a small desk next to the armoire. All the furniture was made of a dark, rich wood. A comfy chair, with a small table nearby, was placed by the long window.

After stowing my suitcase in the closet and my carry-on in the tiled bathroom, I crossed the room to the window. Holding back the sheer curtain, I stared out over the city.

The sky held no stars, their twinkle blocked by the lights of the city. I found it hard to imagine living in a place with no stars. Looking down, I watched the busy city street and pondered Abby's theory.

A person coming back again and again? My first reaction was: How crazy is that? How crazy is that?

Wait a second-how crazy is believing in magick, premonitions, runes, even fairies? Scratch the fairies-the jury's still out on that one.

I s.h.i.+fted my weight uncomfortably. My reaction to reincarnation was disturbingly similar to that of the skeptics I'd been dealing with all of my life. My former fiance, who dumped me when he learned of my peculiar heritage; Henry Comacho, a cop and my onetime nemesis who later became a friend; Bill.

My lips twisted in a wry grin. Ethan. He'd accepted my gift from the start. Funny, considering ninety percent of our conversations ended in an argument, that he'd never questioned my gift. Maybe that was why his lack of confidence now bothered me. I wondered where he was. He hadn't called since our heated discussion on Monday-not unusual-but since he seemed to stay in contact with Bill, he surely knew about the potshots in my backyard. He hadn't called to lecture me.

Hearing Abby's knock, I dropped the curtain and moved away from the window.

"How's Arthur?" I asked, swinging the door wide.

"Fine." Her lips lifted in a shy smile. "He has my keys, so he stopped by your house and checked on things."

"The animals were okay, weren't they?"

"Yes, they came scampering through the doggy door when they heard Arthur in the house." She chuckled. "He wondered if you knew you'd left your TV on."

"Did you explain I do that for Lady, Queenie, and T.P.? He didn't turn it off, did he?"

"Yes, I explained, and no, he left it on." She chuckled again, crossing to the chair and sitting. "He said he never knew animals enjoyed watching TV."

"They like watching Animal Planet, and Orangutan Island Orangutan Island is their favorite show," I replied defensively. "Where would you like to eat?" is their favorite show," I replied defensively. "Where would you like to eat?"

Abby tilted her head and studied me. "You look a little worn-out, dear. What about room ser vice?"

"Hmm." I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "Hot food and the beverage of my choice delivered to my door? Requiring no effort on my part?" I gave her a cheeky grin. "Duh-yeah."

With a smile, Abby reached for the menu and skimmed it. "What would you like?"

I walked to the closet, opened the door, and unzipped my suitcase. "Just a hamburger and fries would be good," I said, kicking off my loafers, then pulling out my University of Iowa T-s.h.i.+rt and a pair of sweatpants. Entering the tiled bathroom, I stripped off my jeans and s.h.i.+rt while Abby placed our order.

"What else did Arthur have to say?" I called out, making small talk as I wiggled into my T-s.h.i.+rt.

"Not much. He mentioned the fund-raiser again," she replied nonchalantly.

I stuck my head out the bathroom door. "What fund-raiser?"

"The one for Chuck Krause...at the winery."

"Monday night?" I asked, pulling on my sweatpants.

"Yes." I heard the disapproval in Abby's voice. "I think it was in poor taste to hold it there after what happened the day before."

"Did Krause mention the shooting?"

"Of course," she commented sarcastically. "Arthur said he used it to segue into his policies on crime."

After folding my jeans and s.h.i.+rt, I combed my hair into a ponytail with my fingers and held it in place with a contraband scrunchie, one I'd saved from Darci's purge. "Did you meet Krause Sunday?"

"Briefly. Arthur was impressed with what Krause had to say about small business development, which is why he went to the fund-raiser."

Turning on the water, I washed my face. "Did Krause mention undoc.u.mented workers Monday night?" I called out over the running water.

"Undoc.u.mented workers?"