Beach Thriller(75)
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When Holly arrived at Serena’s, her hands were sweaty and shaking. The busker’s comments clung to her, just like her unsettling dream. Evidence custodian. Allen Spellman—her lawyer? It appeared the busker knew a lot more about Holly’s life than she realized. She hadn’t seen Spellman’s name on the chain-of-custody tag plastered to the side of the evidence box, but that could be because his role was behind the scenes.
The bells on the door chimed as Holly entered. Once again, the soothing scents of sage and chamomile hit her. She found Serena seated in a green-brocade-upholstered chair, her hands resting in her lap, palms up.
Her eyes gently opened. “Ahh, Holly, I thought I might see you today.” She smiled widely, stretching her arms overhead. “Perfect timing. Just finishing my morning meditation—have to keep the third eye open—and I don’t have an appointment until ten. Have a seat.”
“I brought you breakfast.” Holly lifted the bag of goodies. “It’s not the healthiest, but I needed a little comfort food.”
She gave Serena a quick hug. Sunlight streamed in through the bay window, where Holly caught glimpses of Serena’s stunning ocean view.
“You look exhausted, sweetheart. Are you sleeping all right? I’ve been worried about you.”
“At this point, I’m worried about me, too,” Holly admitted, crumpling into her chair. She rested her head in her hands.
Serena’s caring eyes assessed her. “I’ll help any way I can. Let’s start with some tea. Herbal, okay? It’s better for your nerves.” A tea station was conveniently located behind the desk where she rang up purchases.
As Serena bustled about preparing their drinks, Holly looked around again at the beautiful decor of the psychic parlor. She loved all the warm, textured fabrics; the subtle scent of incense; the light refracting off crystals and glass orbs. Whatever opinions she held about the occult and psychics in general, this place made her want to believe.
Serena set two cups of tea on a small table between them.
Holly launched into it. “I went to the police station the other day. I had to see the evidence for myself—from the fire. Now that I’m back in Beauport, I can’t ignore all the unanswered questions. I figured you know everyone in this town. Maybe you could give me some insight, psychically or otherwise. I’m not sure who to trust.” She was horrified to feel her eyes fill with warm, salty tears.
“If there’s one thing this town has in abundance, it’s secrets.”
“That’s not surprising. I’m worried even my lawyer is hiding something from me,” Holly said. “Have you ever heard of an evidence custodian? I’m not sure what that is, but—”
Serena reached for her phone. “I don’t have to use my third eye for everything,” she joked.
Holly allowed her friend to do the research, and she took a bite of the buttery blueberry muffin. It melted in her mouth, the sweetness spiking her serotonin. Damn, she needed this—a good friend, a warm cup of tea, some simple comforts. It worked wonders. She relaxed in her chair, muscles finally unclenching.
Holly wondered what Serena charged for her crystals. Some were said to offer health benefits, while others provided protection from dark forces. Maybe that would be helpful—a necklace with a protective gem. Even if it was a placebo effect, Holly would take it. Perhaps it would purge her nightmares.
She reached for a nearby stone hanging on a silver chain, embedded in a silver backing. She mindlessly held the jewelry in her hand, barely registering how the light reflected a color prism back at her. She was lost in thought, all the questions she had for Serena swirling through her brain. What’s Ethan Greene’s story? And what about Conrad? What has the Carmichael family been up to for all these years? And how do Tommy Boy and Allen Spellman factor into all of this?
Holly was jarringly brought back to the here and now. Serena had found something—but so had Holly.
This chain, this necklace. It was just like Jade’s. The inscription on the back read Beauport, MA—in the exact same font—and the shape of the silver backing was identical to the one Jade had found in her parents’ dresser drawer. The only difference was the type of stone—this one being an amethyst. All this time, she and Jade had only considered jewelry stores, never thinking the piece in question could have come from a psychic shop. Was that why Serena reacted so strangely to the necklace when she was over for dinner?
As Serena stated, Beauport was full of secrets, and evidently the local psychic was harboring one of them.
Chapter 41
Jade
There’s a stack of last-minute party invitations to address, all new additions to the guest list. Maeve’s criticizing my efforts. Meanwhile, the party is tomorrow and she’s still inviting new guests. I can’t believe the suggested amount written on the donation form. Clearly there’s money in this sleepy little town.
Of course, all of these new invitations will have to be hand-delivered by the overworked (unappreciated) party planner. If I had a car, I’d be driving around like a postal worker.
Maeve picks up an envelope I’ve addressed, holding it between two fingers as though my flawed penmanship has contaminated the paper.
“Don’t they teach you cursive in school?” she snipes. “Your Ks look like Hs, and your Ds look like Os. Do it again, please. If you’re going to print, at least go slower and be more careful.” She issues her orders in the clipped tone of a military sergeant.