Too Far Under (15 page)

My heart swelled with pride for Gramma.
“That’s so great to hear,” I said. “I worry that people will forget
her. I hope her work continues to speak for her now that she…”
Before I could finish my thought, the doorbell rang.

I followed Vernon back out to the entry hall,
wondering who else he had invited to this Friday afternoon
gathering. When he opened the door, he looked as surprised as I was
to see Lacey and Angelica standing on the porch. “Hey Lacey,
Angelica,” he said, “I thought we were getting together tomorrow
morning. Did I get my signals crossed again?”

“No, Grandad, you’re right,” Lacey said
hastily. “I’m sorry if we interrupted, but it suddenly hit me that
when you asked me for Cleo’s phone number, you said you were going
to invite her over to talk about her grandmother this afternoon.
Dad won’t let me take Angelica to Cleo’s office anymore, but I
figured Angelica could talk to her here.”

Uh-oh. Judith had made it quite clear that
she and Derrick would have my head if I talked to Angelica
anywhere. This technical distinction between my office and her
grandfather’s house wouldn’t cut any ice with them. But it would be
awkward to leave now.

“Well, come on in,” Vernon said
enthusiastically. He seemed to pay no mind to Lacey’s comment about
Derrick not allowing Angelica to come to my office. “We’re having
drinks and I think Glenna has some snacks in there.” He ushered us
into the living room just as Glenna showed up from the kitchen
carrying a tray that held a cheese plate, a bowl of purple grapes,
and two small dishes of nuts.

“Hi, Lacey, Angelica. I thought I heard your
voices,” she said putting the tray on the coffee table. “Lacey,
help yourself to a drink. Angelica, what can I get you?”

“Do you have Izze?” Angelica asked, speaking
of the all-natural fruit juice and sparkling water drink that was
created in Boulder.

“I think so. Let’s go check in the kitchen,”
Glenna said, putting her arm around Angelica and leading her
off.

Lacey and Vernon went over to the side table
to get her a drink and refresh his. I sat down in a chair next to
the couch to collect my thoughts. The afternoon was taking a
disconcerting turn—no surprise when Lacey was involved. If she knew
Vernon planned to invite me over to discuss Gramma’s problems, why
did she show up with another agenda? And why did she bring
Angelica? Visions of Judith Demar’s scowling face swam in front of
my eyes. “I don’t think this is such a good idea, Lacey,” I said.
“Your father and Judith were insistent about your not having
permission to bring Angelica to see me.”

Lacey brought her drink over to the couch and
sat facing me. “Judith has
nothing
to say about
any
of this,” she said shrilly. “And Dad said I couldn’t take Angelica
to your office. He didn’t say we couldn’t run into you at Grandad’s
house.” Wow, she hadn’t taken more than one sip of her drink and
she was already shouting. I had a hunch this conversation wasn’t
going anywhere I wanted to be. And as it turned out, my concern
wasn’t misplaced.

Angelica walked back into the living room
carrying a bottle of Clementine-flavored Izze and a glass of ice.
She sat next to Lacey on the couch, set her bottle and glass on the
coffee table, put her hand on Lacey’s arm and said, “When you get
upset about Judith, you’re giving her power over you. Ignore her.
She’s not worth your energy.” Angelica took back her arm, carefully
poured her drink into her glass, and took a long swallow.

“What’s all this about, Lacey?” Vernon asked,
as he sat down in the chair next to me, I couldn’t help but notice
that he’d almost downed his refreshed drink already.

Glenna joined Lacey and Angelica on the
couch. She reached for a bunch of grapes and said, “Yes, Lacey. At
lunch you said the big issue was Derrick and Judith wanting to send
Angelica away to school. What’s Cleo’s involvement?”

We all looked at Lacey, who didn’t answer
right away. Her eyes darted around the room. Her fingers twirled a
long strand of hair into a tight coil, in some unconscious
mirroring of her inner tension. As we waited, my anxiety grew. I
wondered whether she’d told them about the Contact Project and her
and Angelica’s desire to reach Mirabel or, if not, whether she’d
bring it up now. I hoped not. I’m always a bit squeamish about
explaining the apparition-chamber thing in a social setting and I
was afraid Vernon Evers would think I was a flake. If he did, he
might wonder about my ability to make good choices for Gramma.

Lacey took a deep breath and turned toward
Vernon. “Grandad, I wasn’t going to tell you this until we had more
proof,” she said. “It’s horrible to even think about, but Angelica
and I believe Mom was murdered. We’re trying to investigate, but
Dad and Judith are doing everything they can to shut us up.”

True to his legal training, Vernon showed no
reaction to Lacey’s bombshell. He waited a minute to give her time
to go on, then said quietly, “Have you talked to the police about
this?”

“Yes, I’ve talked to them many times and they
give me the same answer over and over. The police don’t care,”
Lacey’s voice took on that familiar strident quality. “They called
it an accident and now they don’t want to be bothered with taking
another look. It’s all on us to find out who killed Mom. We have to
have proof before they’ll pay any attention.”

I noticed that Angelica was sitting quietly
nibbling on some cheese and drinking her Izze. She showed no sign
of agitation. I expected her to rescue or try to calm Lacey like
I’d seen her do in the past, but she didn’t.

Vernon got up and walked over to the table
that held the liquor. “What makes you think Mirabel was murdered?”
he asked casually as he poured himself another drink. He came back
to his chair, sipped his bourbon and waited for Lacey’s
response.

But apparently she wasn’t ready to explain
Angelica’s premonitions. Instead Lacey’s face turned sad and she
burst into tears. “I’m worn out,” she sobbed. “I can’t deal with
all this by myself anymore.”

Glenna put her arm around Lacey’s shoulders.
“Lacey, God works through people and He has chosen you to help your
family. He has opened your mind to the pain and experiences of
others,” she said. “He will give you the strength to serve. Have
you prayed and asked God to help you?”

Lacey stopped crying and pulled away from
Glenna’s arm. “I’m not much of a churchgoer,” she said softly. “God
might be a little surprised to hear from me.”

“Anyone who is helping someone else is doing
God’s work, Lacey,” Glenna said, handing her a tissue. “God will
help you. All you have to do is ask.”

Vernon ignored Glenna and interrupted with a
more legalistic perspective. “We might be able to get the police to
re-open the case,” he said. “But I need to know why you believe
Mirabel was murdered.”

Angelica finally decided to come to Lacey’s
rescue. She set down her glass and began to speak matter-of-factly.
“You know I’m an Indigo. I have ways of knowing that go beyond what
most people understand. I know someone pushed Mom under the water
and held her there. I can feel it clearly, but I don’t know who did
the pushing.” She paused, quietly gazing at Vernon.

“Let’s see if I understand you correctly
Angelica,” Vernon said gently. “You know someone pushed your mother
under water and held her there until she drowned, but you don’t
know who did it.”

“That’s right,” Angelica replied. She looked
and sounded as confident as if she was describing a scene from a
movie rather than a supernatural experience of her mother’s murder.
I wondered what Vernon and Glenna thought of Angelica’s Indigo
status and whether they believed in her special ways of knowing.
Vernon showed no reaction, but Glenna was frowning.

Angelica continued in the same self-assured
voice. “Lacey and I knew we had to find out who did it, so we went
to Cleo to get her to help us reach Mom. I plan to ask Mom what
happened, but Dad and Judith don’t want me to talk to her.” She
stopped speaking, but continued to gaze intently at Vernon, who
still showed no reaction other than draining his glass in one long
swallow.

Lacey blew her nose and jumped in with the
information I was hoping she’d leave to their imaginations. “Cleo
has this project where she helps people contact dead people in an
apparition chamber,” she said. “I heard about it from a friend and
told Angelica. We knew it was what we needed, so we went to see
Cleo and convinced her to help us contact Mom.”

Lacey turned to Angelica, who finished the
story in her usual quiet voice. “The problem is that Dad and Judith
won’t let me see Cleo anymore. And now they’re using the excuse of
my not doing some stupid schoolwork to send me away. But I know
it’s so I can’t help Lacey try to get in touch with Mom.”

My mind was a jumble. Should I jump in and
try to explain the Contact Project in a more rational way, talk
about how and why I started it? I’m usually very careful how I give
out information about it. Lacey’s single-sentence description did
not fit my criteria.

But before I could reframe my work, Glenna
had a complete meltdown. “No. Enough,” she screeched, twitching
nervously. She jumped up from the couch, stood facing us all, and
let loose. “No séances! No apparition chamber! No spiritualism!
That’s the work of Satan! You can’t be both a spiritualist and a
Christian. The Bible says mediums are blasphemy against God and
that anyone who calls upon spirits shall be put to death by
stoning.”

She stopped to take a breath and Vernon stood
up and walked over to her. He was a little flushed and wobbly from
the bourbon, but still in clear command of the room. He put his arm
around Glenna and led her away from us. “If you’ll excuse us, Cleo,
Lacey and Angelica, I think it’s time for you to go. You can let
yourselves out. Glenna and I need to talk.” He led her out of the
room and across the entry hall to his office, where—once they were
inside—he quietly closed the door.

After Glenna’s attack, I drove carefully up
the winding mountain road to my friend Elisa’s house in the
foothills, feeling as jumpy as a grasshopper in August. The idea of
being stoned to death for talking to spirits totally blew me away.
Who knew my conversations with Tyler could have such dire
consequences? Did Tyler know about this punishment? And, if so, why
he was endangering me by appearing?

In an attempt to distract myself, I thought
about Vernon and Glenna. What was going on between them behind that
closed office door? They make an unusual couple, although it’s not
hard to get what they each see in the other. He has a gorgeous
young woman doting on him, and she has a rich, powerful man taking
care of her. A match made in heaven? Given Glenna’s religious
beliefs, maybe she sees it that way. She probably believes God
chose Vernon to be her soulmate. But Vernon didn’t look too happy
when we left. I wondered whether he was having second thoughts
about her, given her nasty behavior this afternoon.

I was disappointed that I hadn’t had any
chance to talk to Vernon about Gramma’s trust account. Since his
office is at his house, I figured I’d have to think up a way to see
him without running into Glenna and any stones she might have handy
for throwing.

I got to my destination before I’d had time
to put the afternoon in perspective. Usually I take a few minutes
to enjoy the view from the front yard of Elisa and her husband
Jack’s gorgeous house in the foothills before I ring. But today I
was so preoccupied I headed straight for the door and punched the
doorbell.

Elisa came to the door wearing a big smile,
slim jeans and a honey-colored sweater that matched her hair. The
lively strains of Abba’s “Super Trouper” drifted out behind her. My
mood took an instant uptick. “Cleo, honey, come on in and join me
in a glass of wine. Jack got held up with some clients and you’re a
little late, so I’m in here drinking by myself.”

I followed her through her huge living room,
barely glancing at the beautiful moss rock fireplace and walls of
windows. “I need to be careful with the wine,” I said. “I already
had a drink and I’ve had kind of an unsettling afternoon. I want to
be able to drive home.”

“Sweetie, you do look like you’re in a flap,”
Elisa said. “Have some wine and fill me in on the gory details.
Don’t worry about driving home. You can always stay over in our
guest room.”

As we settled in the cozy family room off the
kitchen with glasses of a slightly fruity fume´ blanc, I began to
relax and describe what happened at Vernon’s, ending with Glenna’s
threatening outburst.

“I’ve had some negative reactions to my
Contact Project, been called a fraud, but never anything like
this,” I said. “It was scary thinking about having rocks thrown at
me with deadly intent.”

“Ouch,” Elisa said. “I can see why you were
in a dither. What’s the deal with Vernon Evers and the dishy babe
anyway? Do you think she’s finding ways to rip him off financially
behind his back?”

“Who knows,” I said. “Not to be callous, but
that’s not my problem. I expect Mr. Evers can take care of himself.
Although he does drink too much. I saw him drunk at a wedding up in
Estes last week, and today while I was at his house he downed at
least four drinks. He was definitely wobbly when we left. That
probably gives Glenna some opportunities to line her pockets if
that’s what she’s up to.”

“I wonder what Mirabel thought about her dad
hooking up,” Elisa said. “If that were my dad, getting together
with a gorgeous young woman, I’d be checking it out. But enough
about that. As you say, he’s not your problem. My predictions about
how much trouble the Townes family can be for you are on the mark
though, you’ll have to admit.”

I sighed. “That family is a mess, it’s true.
It’s worse than you know.” I gave her the nasty details of Judith
and Derrick’s visit, their plan to start Angelica on Ritalin and to
send her away to school, and Judith’s warnings for me to stay away
from Angelica. Once again I was grateful that Elisa is my therapist
and clinical supervisor as well as my friend. I can tell her
everything and she will keep my confidences.