Too Far Under (10 page)

“Shane,” Lacey shrieked. “You need to quit
being so lazy and pay attention to what’s happening. I’m the one
who moved home after Mom died so Angelica isn’t alone there with
Dad and Judith. I’m twenty-three years old and living at home to
help out while you sit on your ass in your apartment playing that
online game night and day, letting the real world go on around you
like nothing matters.”

I noticed that Angelica was sitting quietly,
not trying to calm Lacey like she often does. It was almost as if
she had tuned them both out. Probably after years of practice.

But Shane was fully engaged and defensive. He
took the bait. “Whatever, Lacey. Look, I did you a favor coming
here today. And as usual, you fly off the handle without any
reason.”

“No reason? To start with you’re twenty-five
minutes late. Then you accuse me of being crazy.”

“I had to get to a good stopping place before
I could leave. I was right in the middle of a major update for
Gyaki-Birquit—or as you call it, that online game. And by the way,
I don’t just play the game all day. I’m the community developer and
they actually pay me for that.”

“Everything isn’t about money, Shane,” Lacey
said dismissively. “Just look at Dad for a bad example of letting
money run you.”

“At least I have a job, not hanging around
the university like you taking extra classes after you’ve already
graduated. Anyway, as I was saying before you interrupted,
Gyaki-Birquit is a very complex game and I have to play at least
several hours a day to stay in touch with the player base and with
what’s going on in the game. I also manage a huge Gyaki-Birquit fan
site, so I actually need to be sitting on my ass in front of my
computer most of the time.”

I had been letting them go on to get a sense
of how they interacted, but at this point I’d had enough of their
bickering. The dynamics of this family posed a challenge for sure.
I was expecting more enthusiasm and less hostility. I decided to
bring Angelica in to get the discussion back on track. “Shane,
we’ve been talking about Angelica’s belief about what happened to
your mom,” I said, turning toward the young girl. “Angelica, why
don’t you fill Shane in on why you and Lacey came here today.”

Angelica perked up and turned to face Shane.
“Shane, you know I’m an Indigo and I see things differently than
most people do. So when I tell you I know someone pushed Mom under
the water, you have to believe that.”

Shane closed his eyes briefly, then opened
them and looked at Angelica. “Who do you think pushed her under?”
he asked.

“I don’t know. It might have been Dad and
that horrible Judith. She has the worst muddy dark red aura. She’s
a mean-spirited person, but Dad can’t see that at all. She has no
respect for me, doesn’t believe I’m Indigo. Like the other day when
my teacher called Dad complaining that I hadn’t turned in some
stupid math homework. I told him that the homework was a waste of
time and I didn’t want to waste my time, so I refused to do it.
Judith was listening and she started yelling at me that it wasn’t
up to me to decide what is or isn’t a waste of time at school. She
called me a spoiled brat who thinks I’m better than anyone
else.”

Hmm…she did sound a little arrogant about the
whole homework thing. I could see where Judith’s spoiled brat
comment probably came from. Was Angelica indeed a highly evolved
Indigo child or was she a stubborn little girl who had found a
rationale to get her own way? And if she was special, did that give
her license to refuse to do schoolwork?

Shane scowled. “I can see why you don’t like
her,” he said. “And she’s not one of my favorite people either. But
would she kill Mom? And would Dad be involved? That’s a huge leap.
And how are you going to know if it was her—or them? You can’t just
accuse them.”

“I know that,” Angelica said leaning forward
in Shane’s direction. “I’ve tried to reach Mom and ask her about
it, but I haven’t been able to. Lacey found out about Dr. Sims’
project that helps people contact spirits who have passed on. We
came here to ask her to help us contact Mom and she’s agreed to do
that.”

Shane leaned back in his chair and closed his
eyes in thought for a minute. Thankfully Lacey stayed silent as we
waited to see what he would say. So far he didn’t seem all that
open to Angelica and Lacey’s theory, which admittedly didn’t have
any basis in fact so far. His answer definitely surprised me.

“Okay, Angelica,” he said. “Let’s say for a
minute that I accept your belief and agree that someone pushed Mom
under the water. I don’t think it would have been Dad and Judith.
Why would they kill her when Dad could easily get a divorce?”

Lacey jumped in. “If she died, he’d inherit a
lot of her money. With a divorce, he probably wouldn’t get any of
it. His business has been a sinkhole in the last few years. He was
desperate for money. Maybe couldn’t see any other way out.”

Shane shook his head. “No, if you think
someone killed her for money, I’d look at the Scientologists. You
know Mom left them a lot of money in her will. Dad said he argued
with her about it and he thought she was going to make a new will
that left them out. Grandad is the one who did her will, and he
says he didn’t draw up a new one for her. Still, if they thought
she was going to cut them out, they probably would have wanted her
to die before she did it.”

Angelica looked interested. “Two
Scientologists used to visit Mom at home just about every week. A
guy named Brian and a woman named India. Dad hated them,” she said.
“He said they were just after her money.”

Uh-oh. A Scientologist named Brian? Could
that be my ex-boyfriend Brian? He did say he knew Mirabel and he
came to the gallery to see Angelica’s show. I put that thought out
of my mind to listen to Lacey, who was speaking to Shane in a
civil, almost friendly, tone.

“You might be right, Shane,” Lacey said. “For
such a smart woman, Mom could be very naïve. I warned her that once
the Scientologists get their hands in your pockets, you never get
rid of them. But she was so gullible. She was paying them a fortune
to help her with her grief. She said they were getting her to
recover buried memories and erase the trauma from them, which
brought her amazing relief. We argued about it over and over. Mom
remembered incidents with Kari that I’m pretty sure never happened,
but I couldn’t get her to admit that. In some way the process made
her feel better and that’s all she cared about. She was addicted to
those auditing sessions.”

I didn’t know much about Scientology, but
some of this sounded ominous. Maybe I’d reconsider meeting Brian
for coffee. He wouldn’t know I was involved with the Townes family
and maybe I could pump him for information.

Angelica looked intently at Lacey. “But,
Lacey,” she said. “To be fair, you didn’t give Mom much chance to
tell you what she thought was good about the Scientologists. She
told me they do a lot to help other people and they live ethical
lives. They also believe in reincarnation like Mom and I do.”

“Maybe that’s how she saw them,” Lacey said
shrilly. “But she was wrong. They’re vultures who milk human
tragedy to build their organization. They were using Mom, but she
couldn’t see it.”

“I have to agree with Lacey there,” Shane
said. “When I was in California, studying game design at USC, I
heard stories. Apparently Scientologists work really hard to
recruit rich people and celebrities to promote their agenda and
they get quite a few of the Hollywood types. I knew one guy whose
uncle gave them over $500,000 before he figured out it was a cult
that was using him.”

Shane’s view of Scientology sounded accurate.
It was pretty much my understanding of Scientology tactics. I sat
back to see where the discussion would go.

Lacey looked quizzically at Shane. “So if you
thought they were using Mom too, Shane, why didn’t you try to get
her out of it like I did?” she asked.

“I figured she was a grown-up who could make
her own choices. And I don’t have your taste for turmoil, Lacey.
Anyway, I figured she’d get tired of them and quit pretty soon.
Actually, I think she was already beginning to feel that
Scientology wasn’t for her.”

“What makes you think that?” Lacey asked.

“She told me they were visiting too often and
demanding too much of her time. It was getting in the way of all
those causes she was always working for.”

“So is that why you think she was going to
change her will and write Scientology out of it?” Lacey asked.

Shane shook his head. “No, Dad told me that.
He seemed sure that she’d done it, too. If Dad can’t find the new
will, I think he’s going to contest the Scientology bequest as
having been made under undue influence. But Scientologists are good
at winning those suits so they’ll probably still get the
money.”

“But …” Lacey tried to interrupt.

“Let me finish, Lacey,” Shane said firmly.
“This is why Dad’s crazy to find the new will. But it’s tough
because Grandad’s always been her lawyer and he told Dad he never
helped Mom make a different will. The thing is, we all know Grandad
drinks a lot and his memory’s not as good as it used to be, so he
might have forgotten. I’ve been trying to talk to him about it to
see if he might say something different, but I haven’t gotten
anywhere.”

As I thought back on Shane’s interaction with
his grandfather at the wedding last weekend, I wasn’t surprised
that he hadn’t gotten anywhere with Vernon Evers. But Shane didn’t
know I’d been there and seen him and his grandfather, and I
couldn’t see any reason to bring it up. Besides, I needed to bring
the session to a close.

“We’re running out of time today,” I said.
“I’m willing to have one of you be in the Contact Project to try to
reach your mom,” but it can’t be you Angelica because you’re a
minor child. So it will have to be Lacey or Shane.”

Angelica’s face fell. “But I’m the one who
was closest to her,” she said. “I’m the one she’d want to talk
to.”

“I understand,” I said. “But it wouldn’t be
ethical or legal for me to have a minor in the project. Even if
your dad agreed, which isn’t very likely, I wouldn’t do it.”

Lacey spoke up. “Can’t you do it without
telling him? We’d keep it quiet.”

What is it about that being illegal and
unethical that’s hard for her to understand? “No, Lacey,” I said.
“I’m a licensed therapist and I have to operate within the rules if
I want to keep doing this work—which I do. We’re going to do this
legally or not at all. So it will have to be you or Shane.”

Lacey sagged and began her hand-clasping
thing. “This is the worst news,” she said glumly. “I thought it
would be Angelica doing it. Mom and I weren’t getting along well at
all, so I don’t know if she’d want to talk to me. I guess there’s
no chance you’d do it Shane?”

Shane shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure I
believe in this or that it’s a good idea. I’ll think about it,” he
said.

But Lacey was in no mood for delay. “Oh never
mind, Shane,” she said exasperatedly. “I’ll do it. But if I can’t
reach her, you’d better be ready to be the backup.”

I was totally ready to see them go as I
ushered them out of my office. Lacey and Shane’s lukewarm
enthusiasm was a real turnoff. I had hoped for more, given that I
was getting myself involved in a messy situation that both Pablo
and Elisa had warned me to stay away from.

After they left, I headed straight to my tiny
under-counter refrigerator and poured myself a glass of sun tea to
fortify me while I did some hard thinking. I took it into my office
where my desk faces the window. As I sipped my tea I took a few
minutes to enjoy my gigantic maple tree’s colorful display of red
and orange leaves.

In my weekly meditation class I’ve learned to
sit quietly, breathe deeply and fix my attention on a plant or
flower to center myself and clear my mind of upsetting thoughts. At
my desk, the maple tree is my focus. I learned the centering
technique to help me cope with the helpless feeling I had about
Gramma’s deteriorating mind. But I’ve found it useful to get
clarity in any tough situation. Like today’s decision to help
Mirabel Townes’ children try to contact her.

I gazed out at the fiery leaves fluttering in
the afternoon breeze, and considered the choice I’d made. I wanted
to believe I had solid reasons that supported my decision. I wanted
clarity. I wanted to be sure I was doing the right thing. I had
almost lost my license to practice as a psychologist in the state
of Colorado the last time I helped someone go after a murderer. And
my teaching at the university was on a trial basis because so many
faculty saw me as being on the fringe.

But instead of clarity and solid reasons, I
had my intuition—a gut feeling that I was supposed to help—and of
course Tyler’s encouragement. I knew I had to go forward. The times
in the past that I’ve let fear overcome my intuition or stop me
from following a spirit’s advice hadn’t worked out well.

My thoughts drifted back to a time when I was
fourteen and had gone with some friends to see a psychic. My
friends had asked about their futures—would they marry, have
careers, have children? But when my time came to go inside the
curtain, I had something much different on my mind. “Sometimes when
I wake up in the night, I see someone,” I said. “She’s always the
same—a woman, very beautiful wearing amazing jewelry. I think she’s
Cleopatra. I was named for her and I’ve watched that Elizabeth
Taylor movie about her over and over. She tells me that I have a
gift that I should use to help people. I don’t know what this
means. Maybe it’s a dream, but I don’t think so.”

I’ve never forgotten the psychic’s answer to
me because her advice turned out to be so accurate. “You are closer
to the curtain than most people,” she said. “Trust your feelings.”
That may sound confusing, but I took her meaning because deep down
I already knew that my visitor was a spirit. I didn’t talk about my
Cleopatra visions to other people—certainly not my family—because I
didn’t want them to think I was strange. But I did take the visits
seriously.