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I didn’t add that, since the inspector had missed the leak in the attic roof, there was the distinct possibility that he might have missed a whole lot of other things as well. This wasn’t Tom’s first rodeo, and I had no doubt he’d be able to approach the topic in a tactful way without sounding too accusatory.
“I will,” Tom said. He rubbed the gray stubble on his chin; he and my mother were both fully dressed, in jeans and sweatshirts and tennis shoes, but their mussed hair and his stubble showed that they hadn’t done anything more than that to get ready for my arrival. “I’m sure there has to be a logical explanation for all this.”
“Especially since Selena can’t feel anything here,” my mother put in. “She’s a very strong psychic.”
Tom accepted that statement with equanimity. While my mother didn’t talk about my powers all that much, she also hadn’t tried to hide anything of who I was or what I did for a living. Now she looked proud, as if recognizing for the first time that having a psychic for a daughter might come in handy from time to time…even if she didn’t really want to admit that ghosts might be real.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t feeling particularly useful at the moment. Although I didn’t claim to be an authority on ghosts or anything, I’d thought I’d picked up enough information on the subject that I usually could offer some words of advice, maybe a concrete plan to address a ghostly problem. Right then, however, I felt positively flummoxed.
“That doesn’t necessarily mean much,” I said as the water began to boil and my mother went over to the stove to turn off the gas. “Being psychic isn’t foolproof. This might be the sort of thing where you should get a second opinion.”
“You mean, another psychic?” Tom asked, looking dubious.
I couldn’t blame him for not wanting to drag anyone else into this. Having your new house turn out to be either haunted or infested with demons wasn’t the sort of thing most people wanted to advertise.
But since it didn’t seem as if my own powers were going to help me out here, we might not have much of a choice.
“Yes,” I replied. My mother filled three mugs with hot water, and Tom got up from his chair to help her bring them over to the table. Once they’d both sat down — my mother nervously dunking her teabag in and out of the hot water as if it was the most important thing in the world for her to be doing right then — I continued. “I don’t know anyone in the area, but I have a friend back in L.A. who has a pretty big network and can probably offer a few suggestions as to who in Arizona may be able to offer some advice. I’ll call her later this morning.”
All this was nothing more than the truth. I’d kept in touch with Mazey Hoskins, who ran a pagan shop in West L.A., and I knew she’d be willing to help. She did a lot of mail order stuff, and because of that, was in touch with all sorts of psychics and practitioners across the U.S. And if she didn’t know someone personally she could recommend, she would still be able to reach out to some of the people in her network to see if they had any possible referrals.
Both my mother and Tom looked relieved by this suggestion. “That sounds like a great idea,” she said.
“Good.” Inwardly, I wondered if having another psychic weigh in would be enough to figure out what was going on, but I figured we had to start somewhere. “And in the meantime, I’m going to lay down some spells of protection on the house and the property, just to be safe.”
Tom’s brow furrowed slightly at the word “spells,” but to my relief, he didn’t protest. I suppose he figured we might as well try anything we could.
So, after drinking a bit of piping hot chamomile tea, I ventured out into the garden, armed with a flashlight Tom gave me and the sea salt and coffin nails I’d brought from my own stash. He and my mother offered to accompany me, but this was the sort of thing I needed to do on my own. I assured them I’d be fine — even as I inwardly prayed that I actually would — and headed outside.
It wasn’t quite as dark as I feared, thanks to a setting moon off to the west and, more importantly, a network of landscape lighting in the garden, subdued but definitely adequate to keep me on the paths and reveal any wild animals…or demons…that might be lurking nearby. The property wasn’t anything close to a square, so I did my best to determine where the four points lay and buried the coffin nails there, along with an invocation to ensure that nothing which meant my mother or Tom any harm could venture here. Sea salt sprinkled along the perimeter of the property while I whispered more spells of protection under my breath, and then I was done.
By that point, the eastern horizon wore the faintest smudge of gray, telling me sunrise wasn’t too far off. I hadn’t thought I’d been outside all that long, but clearly, the night was waning, the hour inching toward six o’clock.
Good thing the store wasn’t open on Sundays. I knew there was absolutely no way I could have dragged myself into work after being up half the night.
When I returned to the kitchen, it was to find my mother with her head pillowed on Tom’s shoulder, eyes half-closed. She roused as soon as I came in, though, blinking the sleepiness from her eyes.
“Everything go okay?” she asked.
“I think so,” I said. I didn’t want to be too emphatic, just because magic wasn’t what you could call an exact science. While I’d been out in the garden, I hadn’t sensed anything threatening, hadn’t felt as if I was in any danger. I wanted to think that was a good sign, but since I hadn’t detected anything evil in the house, either, despite the horrific noises that apparently had been emanating from the stairway, I didn’t know how positive I could be on the subject. Not that my instincts — good as they generally were — could be called completely reliable. They didn’t often let me down, but they weren’t foolproof, either.
But my mother seemed to accept my comment without reading anything else into it, because she smiled and said, “Well, that’s good. I suppose we should all get some sleep now.” She paused, frowning faintly. “That is, if you think it’s safe.”
“It feels safe,” I said, and hoped I was right. “Also, the sun’s coming up soon. This sort of activity tends to die down after dawn. You should be fine, but if anything else happens, just call me.”
Tom put in, “I don’t think it’ll come to that. You need your sleep, too.”
That I did. In fact, just the thought of sleep made me let loose with a jaw-cracking yawn.
My mother actually chuckled and said, “Go on home, Selena. I feel better knowing that dawn is almost here. The building inspector will be here in a few hours, and I’m sure he’ll get to the bottom of it. I have a feeling we’ll all be laughing about this over dinner soon enough.”
That was my mother, always the optimist. I didn’t argue with her, though; I wanted to believe her view of the situation was the correct one, and that I’d simply jumped to the wrong conclusion when faced with a situation I’d never encountered before.
We said our goodbyes, and I headed back out to my car and got in. As I drove away, I had to fight the feeling that I should turn right back around and stay with Tom and my mother, that something terrible was going to happen if I wasn’t there.
But because I knew that was my own worry talking and not any kind of psychic flash, I kept going and hoped for the best.
“Oh, I know exactly who you should talk to,” Mazey Hoskins told me over the phone. “He’s even semi-local. Brant Thoreau. He lives in Sedona, but I know he’d come to Globe to check things out for you.”
