Part 10 (2/2)
”Well?” Celeste asked, picking up the wine gla.s.s. ”What do you think?”
”That I should have pulled out the vodka instead of the wine.” Maxine shook her head. ”Celeste, what you've experienced is incredible. Tracy's murder...I'm sorry you had to go through that with her, but you have to know now that if you hadn't been with her, she would still be reliving her murder. Over and over again.”
”That's what Tracy told me.”
”Incredible. My question...do you believe that?”
”Yes. Describing to you what I saw after she died doesn't compare to what I felt. My concern, and John's, is about the white light. In past visions I never went that far. I always woke up before the person died. Even when I went through trances during the serial killer case I worked with John, I always snapped out of it before...the end.”
Maxine raised a brow and lifted her wine gla.s.s. ”I don't think you have cause for concern. After all, it wasn't your time,” she said, then took a sip.
”That's not very rea.s.suring.” Celeste ran her finger around the rim of the gla.s.s. ”And I need something to rea.s.sure John that I'll always come back to him.”
Maxine moved around the island and sat on the stool next to her. She then took her hand. ”Celeste, you said you heard John calling for you, correct?”
”I did, but I didn't feel him pulling me out of the tub. My body...it was like I was separated from it.” She met Maxine's gaze. ”Was I? Is that possible?”
”Those are questions I can't answer. But, I don't believe that your spirit left your body. I think that Tracy came to you, probably because her energy was drawn to yours since you'd connected to Sandra. Or, because you know who killed her.”
”But I don't know. I have my suspicions. Now I can only hope the police will take another look at Sandra's suicide.” She finished her wine. ”I'm going to have to go soon. John is anxious to hear about what happened in Milwaukee. What I'll tell him about the detectives and what they found at Tracy's are all things he understands.”
”Naturally. Most people can't make sense of what you and I can do or see. They, like John, rely on the tangible. They need to see or touch what's presented to them in order for their minds to determine if it is real or not. Since he can't see what you do, he has to go on faith and the belief that you aren't lying to him.”
”I know John believes me, otherwise he wouldn't have been as angry as he was last night. You were right. Ian was right. I should have told John from the start.” She pushed her gla.s.s away and shrugged. ”It doesn't matter now. He knows what's going on. I just wish I did.”
Maxine offered her more wine. After Celeste declined, the woman topped off her own gla.s.s. ”You know exactly what happened. I think what's bothering you the most is that you weren't able to control it. Before you slipped into this trance, did you have any of your usual physical signs?”
”Nothing. I wasn't nauseous or scatterbrained. I was tired, though, and all I kept thinking was how relaxing a long hot bath would be. The weird thing is, I couldn't tell you the last time I took a bath over a shower.” Celeste thought back to last night. ”I wonder if it's possible that Tracy planted the idea of a bath in my mind. Back in Wisconsin, before I met John and realized my visions of women being murdered were real, I would wake up in random places throughout my house. One night I woke up under the kitchen table, my arms and legs tangled in the chair spindles. Later, I found out that the girl I'd dreamed about that night had been found bound to a tree.”
Deciding she could use a little more wine after all, Celeste reached for the bottle. ”I'm fine with being psychic, and I truly hope I can help give Sandra and Tracy justice,” she said, filling her gla.s.s a third of the way. ”But I don't like that my visions are controlling me physically. Here's the reality. My mind might have been joined with Tracy's, but last night, my body was in the bathtub and I was underwater when John found me. If he hadn't, could I have drowned like Tracy? Would I have snapped out of the trance the moment water entered my lungs? And how in the h.e.l.l do I prevent another trance from happening?”
”Yes, we're right back to the reason you came to me in the first place.” Frowning, Maxine looked toward the large kitchen window that overlooked the backyard. ”I need to think on this and do additional research. In the meantime, I want you to continue to watch for physical signs. Know your body, Celeste. And you might want to refrain from taking long baths for a while.”
”Ha, ha.” Celeste half-smiled. ”As it is, I'm afraid to give Olivia a bath. I even had anxiety about driving today and was glad George drove us to Milwaukee. I'm really worried, Maxine.”
Maxine touched her hand. ”I know, darling. And I wish I had answers for you. Go home to your husband and, for now, do as I suggested. Know your body and listen to what it tells you. I also think you should come over again and perform another reading. We'll conduct an experiment. I have plenty of objects in my house we can use that have history to them. Instead of using the scribble method to ground you, we'll use John.”
”No offense, but I don't think John will want to sit in on a reading.”
”I'm not talking about your husband in the physical form. Your love and spiritual connection to John should be all the grounding you need.” Maxine grinned. ”I would love to meet him, and your daughter. Maybe you'll have me over for dinner?” Chuckling, she raised her gla.s.s. ”Or better yet, come here and cook. I have this big beautiful kitchen and it deserves to be used by someone with culinary skills, which I lack.”
”That sounds nice, but we'll have to keep the parlor closed. Olivia would destroy- The black figure filled her mind, its dark ma.s.s undulating and rolling over itself. As it moved, growing larger, it revealed a small head covered in golden curls.
”Celeste,” Maxine said, her voice firm and filled with alarm. ”What is it?”
”I don't know. Before I fell asleep last night I saw the black ma.s.s surrounding Olivia.” The same fear that had gipped her then, squeezed her chest tightly. ”Do you think it means anything?”
”I'm not sure,” Maxine said, concern clear in her eyes. ”You and John had argued about your ability and he'd made his concerns for Olivia clear. I'm sure it was your restless subconscious worrying about your daughter.”
”You're probably right.” She finished her wine. ”I better go. Thanks for the wine and the advice.”
Maxine led her to the front door. When they reached the foyer, the older woman handed Celeste her parka. ”I'll be around tomorrow if you need to talk, and would love for you to stop by on Monday after the memorial service. I'd like to hear how things went.”
Celeste slipped into her coat, then retrieved her car keys from her pocket. ”Sounds good. I'll call you.”
Maxine pulled her into an embrace. ”I know this is a confusing and stressful time for you. What you experienced with Tracy was a beautiful and magical thing. I envy you for that.” Instead of releasing her, Maxine tightened her hold. ”For your peace of mind, as well as mine, please keep Olivia close to you or John, until Sandra and Tracy's murders are resolved.”
Celeste pulled back and stared at her. ”Is there something you're not telling me?”
”No. I'm worried there might be something you're not telling yourself.”
When Celeste entered the condo, the zesty aroma of garlic, Italian spices, pepperoni and sausage made her mouth water and her empty stomach growl.
”Mama?” Olivia called from the living room, followed by the pitter-patter of her little feet along the wood floors.
”In here,” Celeste said, taking off her coat and then hanging it in the closet. When she turned, she grinned as Olivia, wearing a big dimpled smile and nothing else but a diaper, came to a wobbly stop at the end of the hallway.
”Hi, cutie-patootie.” Her daughter giggled and came running for her. ”Where are your clothes?” she asked, scooping up Olivia and giving her a kiss.
Olivia babbled, her face serious, and explained the situation in baby speak. Unfortunately, Celeste didn't speak baby and the only word she could understand was Dada. ”Did Daddy take your clothes?” she asked, and headed into the living room to find John. ”Or did Olivia?”
”Dada,” Olivia said, then looked to John, who rose from the couch, with accusation in her eyes.
”Don't blame Daddy,” John said, approaching them. ”I'm not the one who p.o.o.ped their pants and got it all over the place.”
Celeste wrinkled her nose and kissed Olivia's forehead. ”Eww. Did you have a blowout?”
Olivia giggled, then squirmed and complained when her blocks caught her attention. She sat her daughter on the floor, then gave John a kiss and hug. ”Bad day?” she asked.
”Nope. We had fun together. Well, until the diaper incident. It was so bad I almost had to call for reinforcements.”
”Wuss.” She grinned. ”How is it that you can handle walking a crime scene but not a little p.o.o.p? What would your coworkers think?”
He furrowed his brows. ”You do have a point. Let's keep this to ourselves.”
”I will, especially since you took care of dinner. Did you eat?” she asked, and headed for the kitchen.
”I fed Olivia, but waited for you.” He pulled out a bottle of wine. ”Want a gla.s.s?”
”Just a half. I had some wine with Maxine and don't want to wake up with a headache in the morning.” She considered what went on today and what might happen tomorrow. ”Never mind,” she said, and pulled two plates from the cabinet. ”Make it a full gla.s.s.”
When he met her gaze, his eyes probed hers. ”You found Tracy?”
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