Deadly Intentions (12 page)

She had no idea what
bad
thing they thought was going to happen, but she wasn’t too worried. She’d proven in the woods that she could take care of herself, even if her intensity and aim was a little bit off.

On the way home, she decided to stop at the bakery in Noquitt Center and get one of her favorite blueberry muffins—the kind with giant plump berries and crunchy crystals of sugar on top.
 

It was a bright sunny day in the mid-eighties and Noquitt Center was crowded with tourists in bright colors and noisy flip-flops. They strolled along the streets eating ice cream, lugging beach bags and taking up all the parking spots. Jolene had to park a few blocks away, but she didn’t mind. The walk would do her good.

As she walked, she let her gifts take over and scanned the crowd from a paranormal perspective. The auras were mostly happy. The center of town was filled with vacationers who weren’t paying the least bit of attention to her. She wondered if there was someone in the crowd who was watching her, but she couldn’t tell from any of the energy signals she was feeling.

She wasn’t too worried about it, either. What could “they” do in a crowded downtown area? It’s not like someone could rush into the street and grab her without being noticed. This was probably the safest place for her.

“Jolene!”
 

She heard her name being shouted from the right and spun around to see Steve Flint sitting on a bench. His clothing was rumpled, his face lined with worry.
 

“Hi Steve.” She walked over and stood in front of him.

“Did you find anything about …” He let his voice trail off, but Jolene knew what he meant. She could feel the anxious energy coming off him in waves and she stepped back a bit.

“Well, as a matter of fact, I did find something.”

Steve’s face crumbled. He slouched back in the chair. “I knew it.”

“But, it’s not what you think.”

His forehead wrinkled and he squinted up at her. “What?”

“I did follow Gail earlier today like you asked, but she didn’t go to meet her lover … she went to a Pampered Chef party.”

“Pampered Chef? What the heck is that?”

“Oh, you know, it’s when a bunch of girls get together to chat and buy expensive items. They have parties for jewelry, makeup and so on. The Pampered Chef one is for kitchen items.”

Steve looked perplexed. “Kitchen items? But Gail barely steps foot in the kitchen.”

“Well, my guess is that most of the people go to these parties for the gossip. That, and to help their friend get enough hostess points to collect a bunch of freebies.” Jolene had little use for these types of parties and always dreaded being invited. She usually showed up late, left early and bought the least expensive item.

Instead of looking happy, Steve looked more worried than before. Jolene noticed how gaunt and pale his face was.
This thing is really taking a toll on him
, she thought.
 

“I just wish you could get some proof so this whole thing would be over. It’s killing me.” His pleading eyes looked up at her and her heart twisted.

“I know. I’ll try harder,” she promised. “I’ll have something concrete for you by the end of the week.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Steve leaned back in the chair and his eyes took on a faraway look. “We’ll talk later.”

“Okay. Bye.” Jolene continued to the bakery, the thought of the plump blueberry muffin not seeming quite so sweet anymore.

Chapter Sixteen

Morgan and Fiona were having a conversation similar to the one Jolene and Celeste had had about their Aunt Eliza as they worked on their separate projects at
Sticks and Stones
.

“There’s something kind of strange about her, don’t you think?” Morgan asked as she pinched some dried herbs from a container and crumbled them into the bottom of a stone mortar.

Fiona shrugged, holding a pink tourmaline earring up to the window so that the light filtered through it like stained glass. “I guess so. But maybe she’s just nervous being around us or something.”

“Not too nervous to go skulking around in the attic, though.”

“True. And she hasn’t been around that much. Like Jake said, how many friends can she still have in Noquitt? She’s been gone a long time.”

“Good point. But we really should try to spend more time with her. She seemed nice the first night when we all had supper together. Maybe she’ll be around for supper tonight.”

The bells over the door chimed, causing the girls to look up from their work.
 

An old woman stood in the doorway silhouetted by the sunlight streaming in behind her. She must have been ninety if she was a day. Her skin was pale, almost translucent like tissue paper.

She paused uncertainly in the doorway, holding something in her hand—a piece of jewelry, it looked like. Morgan knew right away this was no ordinary piece.

“Can we help you?” Morgan asked, unable to take her eyes off the unusual piece of jewelry.

“Yes, I hope so.” In contrast to her appearance, the woman’s voice was strong with a slight lilt to it.

She walked over to Morgan, still holding out the jewelry, which Morgan could now see was a locket.

Fiona must have seen it, too, from her workbench on the other side of the shop, because she appeared next to the woman, bending her head down to look at the piece that she had placed on the counter.

“This was my grandmother’s.” The woman said. “Passed down through the family, but as you can see it’s got some damage.”

The locket appeared to be ancient. It was made from the strangest material Morgan had ever seen. It appeared to be some sort of stone with geometric striations through it. The sides and edges were decorated with delicate gold filigree and a small garnet set in a filigree frame glowed from the middle.

“It’s beautiful,” Fiona said.

Morgan reached out to re-position the locket so she could see it. As she touched it, she felt a surge of energy.
 

She gasped pulling her hand back and looked up at the woman who was assessing her with clear, amber-colored eyes. Morgan had the fleeting feeling that this was about more than just fixing a locket.

She cleared her throat and turned to get one of the contact forms the girls kept behind the desk.
 

“If you can just fill this out, we’ll take a look.” She turned to Fiona who seemed to be mesmerized by the necklace. “Do you think you can fix it, Fi?”

“What?” Fiona looked up, apparently startled by the question. “Yes, of course.”

“It’s very unusual,” Morgan said. “Do you know anything about it?”

The woman glanced up from the form she was filling out. “Just that it’s very old. My grandmother always wore it and after she died I kind of lost track of it. I just found it in the attic with some of her old things yesterday.”

“It’s some sort of crystal or stone … but I don’t know what it is.” Fiona’s eyes were still glued to the locket.

The woman put the pen down and pushed the form to Morgan. “Well, that should do it. Do you need anything else?”

Morgan glanced at the form. “Nope. We’ll call when it’s ready.”

The woman turned and headed to the door. Pausing with her hand on the knob, she looked back at them. “Take good care of it, it could be more important than you think.”

Morgan’s brow creased, thinking that was an odd thing to say, but when she looked up to ask the woman what she meant, she was already gone, the shop door firmly shut even though Morgan couldn’t recall hearing the bell.

“I’ve never seen a stone like this.” Fiona dangled the locket in front of her watching it twirl at the end of the gold chain. “It’s not really that pretty of a stone, but unusual enough to be interesting.”

“The garnet and filigree help, though,” Morgan said.

“Definitely.” Fiona put it back on the counter and slipped her fingernail under the edge of one of the broken sections of filigree. “It will be no easy task to match this fine work.”

Morgan put her fingers gently on the locket to turn it to face her. Her fingertips tingled and she felt a surge of something go through her. Power? Energy? She pulled her hand away.

“What is it?” Fiona looked concerned.

“When I touched it … it felt strange.”

Fiona hovered tentative fingers over the locket, then cautiously rested them on top of it. Her eyes widened and she looked at Morgan. “It feels tingly. I feel energized. Like the stone is giving me energy or something.”

“That’s how I felt!” Morgan looked down at the locket. “We should find out what’s inside this thing.”

Fiona picked the locket up to inspect the hinge. “The hinge looks okay. I wonder why it won’t open.”

Turning the other side to face her, she gently pushed on the clasp but it appeared to be wedged stuck.
 

“Hmmm … that’s strange.” Fiona took the locket over to her worktable. “Let’s see what I have here that might help…”

She rummaged through the tools, coming up with a thin dental pick and very carefully put the tip into the locket near the clasp and moved it ever so slightly to pry the locket open.

A bolt of electricity shot out of the locket, zinged across the room and incinerated a wooden side table in a puff of smoke. The cut crystal vase full of fresh cut roses that had been on the table hovered in the air for a split second before crashing to the floor in a watery mess of glass shards and petals.
 

Fiona and Morgan gaped at the mess.
 

“Wow. That sure isn’t any ordinary locket,” Morgan said.

Chapter Seventeen

Jolene started her car and pulled off the top part off her blueberry muffin before edging out into the traffic.

Biting into the muffin top, she felt the satisfying crunch of the large sugar granules that were sprinkled liberally on top as the carbs raced through her bloodstream, making a bee-line to her brain.
 

She needed the sugar from the muffin to maneuver her way around the downtown Noquitt traffic. It was tourist traffic, and tourist traffic wasn’t like regular traffic because they tended to slow down to gawk at shops, scenic views and even other tourists. Tourist traffic was also known to suddenly stop without warning. One needed to have their wits about them to navigate it successfully and, for Jolene, sugar usually did the trick.
 

As she worked her way out of Noquitt Center toward Perkins Cove, her mind turned to Steve and Gail Flint. She felt terrible for Steve but she also wondered if he wasn’t being a bit paranoid. She hadn’t seen any indication that Gail was cheating and she was pretty good at picking up on these things.

But, if she wasn’t cheating, why all the secret phone conversations and clandestine meetings?

Her chirping phone drew her attention to the passenger seat, her mind already deciding she would ignore it if it were Luke, Jake or one of her sisters calling to check up on her.
 

It wasn’t. It was Charlene. Jolene tensed, thinking of the jawbone she’d left with her friend—she wasn’t sure if she was ready to hear the answer. The muffin she’d just swallowed formed a lump in her throat.

“Hi, Charlene.”
 

“Hey, Jo. I have some news about that bone you gave me.”
 

“Uh huh.”

“I was able to get a dental match on it.”

“And …”
 

“It’s not your Mom’s.”

“What?” Jolene hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath, but now it rushed out. She didn’t know if she felt relieved or disappointed.

“It belongs to some guy named Barnes.”

“Gerald Barnes?” Images of the cabin of the old boat and then the explosion in Perkins Cove flitted through her mind. “That’s the old fisherman who’s been missing.”

“I know. I did some research,” Charlene said. “I called in a favor from a friend for the dental match so it’s all been done unofficially like you wanted. But now that I know it could help on the missing person’s case, I need to submit it through proper channels.”

“That’s okay.” Jolene said. “I appreciate you doing it on the down low.”

“No problem.” Charlene clicked off.
 

Jolene frowned as she tossed the phone on the seat. It wasn’t really a surprise that Barnes was dead. After all, they’d talked to his ghost. But what she couldn’t figure out was what his body was doing out in the ocean. If he’d been out fishing and fallen overboard, that would make sense. But, if that were the case, his boat would have been adrift in the ocean, not moored in his spot in the cove. Something didn’t add up.

Charlene had taken a risk getting that information on the sly and Jolene felt like she owed her. She wanted to do something to show her appreciation, but what?
 

Her thoughts went back to the beef dish Charlene had been cooking and then flitted to the Pampered Chef party. Maybe Charlene would appreciate something for the kitchen. She’d heard Pampered Chef had the best of the best.

And then a thought struck her like a lightning bolt.
 

She stomped on the brake pedal and cut the wheel to take a sharp right. Ignoring the honking horns and screeching brakes behind her, she turned onto the side road that doubled back toward the center of town.
 

Sure, she was
supposed
to be heading straight home, but she had an idea that might help prove her case and she
had
to act on it. And besides, what could possibly happen to her in broad daylight?

***

Morgan pulled her Toyota into a spot across from
Reed Pawn and Antiques
and peered through her side window into the shop.
 

“It looks like he doesn’t have any customers,” Fiona said as the two girls exited the car and waited for traffic to pass so they could cross the street.

“Good. The less people that see this,” Morgan pointed to the white paper bag where she carried the locket, “the better.”

Fiona nodded. The traffic broke and they sprinted across, pulling open the door and spilling into the shop.

Cal Reed stood, leaning with his palms on the display case he used as a counter in front of him, studying a book that lay open on the top of the glass. He looked up and smiled at them, his dimples and sparkling blue eyes highlighting his boyish good looks.