Spirits and Sourdough, page 9
I settled back onto the cushion, feeling odd about facing away from the dead woman’s ghost. “I went to her gallery this morning and met her assistant. She seemed very upset about Leigh.” I glanced behind me. “Is she reacting to anything I’m saying?”
Teddy gave a quick shake of her head. “No. I don’t know if she even understands. She’s simply here—or wherever I am—and she’s angry, and she wants revenge. You’re lucky she didn’t attach to you instead since you’re the one she thinks can find her killer.”
“Well, I’m not sensitive in the same way you are,” I said. “She must know that somehow. If she attached to me, I might never even know. Right?”
Teddy sighed, which I took to be agreement.
But how had Leigh known to have Teddy ask for my help in finding her killer? Was there something I already knew but didn’t realize? Or had someone on the other side told her I investigated homicides? Who? Nonna? Connell?
That gave me pause. “Teddy, do you think Leigh might be in contact with other spirits on her side of the veil?”
She blinked, giving it some thought. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t see spirits talking to each other, really. They seem very . . . alone.”
“Lonely?”
Her lips pressed together, and her eyes grew sad. “A lot of times. Not always. Remember me talking about Little Gracie last night? In Johnson Square?”
I nodded.
“She’s not lonely. She greets everyone, still cheerful, oblivious to the fact that they’re unaware of her. Most of them, at least. I’ve run across quite a few sensitives on my tours.”
“But not like you are.”
“No. Not like I am.”
I let the thoughts ping-pong around my brain for a few moments. “You’re sure that if Leigh Markes’ killer is brought to justice, then she’ll leave you alone?”
“I am. I can’t tell you why I know that, but I do. Experience, maybe. Her entire connection to this plane is due to her desire to have exactly that: justice. She’ll fully move on to the next plane once she has it.”
“Okay, then. I’m working on it, along with the other members of the spellbook club, and we’re going to do the best we can.” I looked over my shoulder again. “I hope she understands that. We’re going to do the best we can,” I repeated a little louder.
Ben looked over at me from behind the coffee counter, and I felt my cheeks redden.
Teddy looked relieved. “Thanks. She seems to understand—a little, at least. She’s not so angry.”
“But she’s sticking with you, regardless.”
The young woman looked unhappy. “Please hurry,” she whispered.
As if a ghost couldn’t hear her.
As if I knew anything about ghosts.
Teddy reached for her boho bag, ready to leave.
“Um,” I said.
She paused.
“So you know how you said you’d heard about spirits attaching themselves to people? Even before this”—I gestured vaguely behind me—“happened to you?”
Suddenly wary, she nodded.
“Have you ever heard of a guardian spirit attaching itself to someone? A good one, you know? That chooses its, er, host?” It was as good a word as any to describe Declan. “One that actually chooses him at birth, maybe does so in each generation. Sticks to one family?”
She sat back, at ease. In her element. “Is this someone you know?”
I debated for a nanosecond how much to tell her, but the truth was I was desperate and needed all the help I could get to bring Connell back for Declan. And I needed it soon. Samhain was in only a few days.
So I told her the story, as succinctly as I could.
“At a séance a few years ago, the medium inadvertently contacted a spirit named Connell, who, it turned out, had been attached to my husband—this was before we were married—ever since he’d been born. He’d been a kind of guardian angel, warning him away from danger, pushing him toward opportunity, keeping him safe. This séance brought Connell out of the woodwork, so to speak.”
“How?” Teddy interrupted.
“He, er, takes over Declan’s physical body.”
She stared at me. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. It didn’t happen often, but it was clear when Connell was front and center. See, he has a distinct Irish brogue, and a certain way of . . .” I trailed off. Oh, well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “We’re pretty sure he’s a leprechaun, actually. He was attached to the McCarthy family—there are some very old photographs that show him, and I’ve, well, I actually met him in the Otherworld—shamanic journey, long story—and it’s the same guy.”
Teddy was frowning, but her voice was amused. “And I thought I had a weird life.”
“Yeah. Well. Anyway. Connell saved Declan’s life more than once, as well as mine. And a few months ago, he . . .” I rubbed my hands over my face. “Oh, goddess. How do I put this so I don’t sound too nuts?”
For the first time, I heard her laugh. It was full and throaty and genuine, bringing a smile to my own face. “I think you’re way too far past nuts to worry about it,” she said.
I grinned. “You might be right.” I paused. “So you know I’m a witch.”
She nodded, looking curious.
“And that means, well, magic.”
Another nod, a little slower.
“Now, everyone has access to magic. Not everyone does access it, and some people do it automatically without realizing it.”
Now she was studying me with interest.
“It’s all about intention, about focusing that intention in order to manifest an outcome. Rituals and spells and the like help do that.”
“So anyone can be a witch?”
My turn to nod. “I believe so. See, the Craft is about a certain way of harnessing the magic that’s in the world, a certain way of directing intention, with rules. When you’re working with others, like, say, a coven, then the sum is greater than the parts. And while everyone can access magic, there are some people who have a particular affinity for it. A gift. A talent.”
“Like a musician.”
I pointed at her. “Exactly! Anyone can learn an instrument and play tunes, but some people are gifted at it.”
“And I’m guessing you’re gifted at magic,” she said.
“I am,” I admitted. “So are the others in the spellbook club.”
“What does this have to do with your husband’s leprechaun guardian?”
“Right. Well, a few months back, my gift for magic was taken away. It would be like a musician not being able to play anymore, going suddenly tone deaf.”
“That sounds awful.”
“You have no idea.” I shuddered, remembering, then brought myself back to the point. “Connell was able to retrieve my gift and give it back to me. Thank goddess. But in the process, he was flung into the ether.”
She looked skeptical. “Wasn’t he already in the ether?”
“I guess. Yeah. But wherever he is now, he doesn’t have access to Declan. He’s too far away. I don’t know where that is, but it’s not too far to get him back from. See, I’ve been in contact with him, in a way. He’s not hurt. He’s just lost. And unhappy. And he’s not here to help Declan, who, by the way, is a firefighter. He’s had Connell guiding him for his whole life, and now he’s gone. Connell acted as his intuition, helped his instincts, steered him away from danger.”
Teddy was frowning. “That doesn’t sound good at all.”
“It isn’t.”
She leaned back against the arm of the sofa. “Why are you telling me all this?”
I leaned forward. “Because I want to try to bring Connell back, and I want to do it this Samhain.”
She looked confused.
“Halloween. At midnight if possible. And I need your help.”
“My help?” she yelped. Heads in the main seating area turned toward us.
“I’m putting together a spell to reach to the other side. But in order to not lose myself while I’m searching for Connell to bring him back, I need someone to ground me here, someone who can straddle the two planes. A tether. Someone like you.”
Teddy suddenly stood. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.” She grabbed her bag and was backing away.
I rose, too. “I really think you can, hon. If only—”
She turned and hurried to the door, bursting through it to the street outside. I started to follow, but stopped. I’d only frighten her more if I ran after her.
Our resident author, who always worked with his earbuds in, turned his head from the still-closing door and looked at me with raised eyebrows. The other two customers had stopped their conversation and were staring across the room.
“Good lord, Katie! What did you say to that poor girl?” Lucy asked as she bustled over.
My voice was low. “I asked if she’d help us get Connell back on Samhain. It didn’t go over well.” I was surprised to hear tears in my voice. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been counting on Teddy’s help ever since the idea had occurred to me.
“Oh, Katie.” My aunt gave me a big hug, then held me at arm’s length. “You told her all about what happened?”
“I did.”
“It probably sounded a little, you know”—she smiled—“crazy?”
“I don’t think that was it. I mean, the woman sees dead people, for heaven’s sake. Has her whole life.”
Lucy led me back to the kitchen. “True. Something about the idea frightened her badly, though. It was all over her face.”
I frowned. On the one hand, I felt terrible for Teddy, the lonely outsider with a gift that was also part curse.
On the other hand, that gift/curse was the one thing I wanted—no, needed—to help retrieve the guardian spirit of the man I loved.
“That was Teddy LaRue,” Iris said as soon as we entered the kitchen.
Surprised, I asked, “You know her?”
Iris half shrugged. “Sort of. She was a year ahead of me in high school.” She squinted at me. “How do you know her?”
“She’s Gregory’s goshdaughter.” Seeing her confusion, I added, “You know, Jaida’s Gregory?”
Her face cleared. “Right. I hadn’t heard the term goshdaughter, but I like it. So, um . . . do you know Teddy very well?” She asked the question with such careful casualness, I paused in getting out the ingredients for a batch of cookies and turned to her.
“We just met the other night. She guides ghost tours.”
“Oh.” She made a little face. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
I leaned toward her. “Why is that?”
Instead of answering my question, Iris parried with another. “Is she involved in Zoe’s mom’s death?”
Behind her, I saw Lucy whirl in alarm.
“She hasn’t done anything wrong,” I said easily. “Now, why on earth would you ask such a thing?”
Iris looked away. When she looked back, she shrugged again. “I don’t know. I mean, I know you’re looking into what happened, along with the other spellbook club members. So I figure there’s something witchy involved. Because that’s what you do, right? And Teddy is . . .” She trailed off.
“Teddy is . . .” I prompted as Lucy came to stand beside me.
“She’s weird,” Iris said. “Everyone knows she’s strange. I mean, I know we’re supposed to accept everyone for who they are and how they act, but there’s something’s off about that girl. Always has been.” She took a deep breath. “Sorry.”
Lucy and I exchanged a glance, and then Lucy said, “I daresay you’re right. There is something different about Teddy. Just as there’s something different about Katie and me and you.”
Iris’ eyes widened. “Ohmagosh. She’s a witch?”
“No, that’s not what I mean.”
I tensed, hoping she wasn’t about to tell Iris about Teddy’s unique talent. I needn’t have worried about my kind and tactful aunt spilling any beans, though.
“All I mean is that everyone has their own gifts, their own burdens, and their own stories. You don’t know Teddy very well, at least from what you said. It might be best not to judge. People aren’t always who you think they are.”
Iris blinked, and suddenly her eyes filled with tears. “They sure aren’t!” She angrily wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.
Bewildered, Lucy and I went to where she stood on the other side of the counter.
“Something’s been going on the last couple of days,” I said. “Spill.”
She sniffled, then whirled and ran into the office.
Chapter 12
“Do we follow?” I asked Lucy.
She looked out at the bakery, which was half full of seated customers, all involved in their own conversations or what was on their laptop screens. Ben was at the register, and she raised her eyebrows after catching his eye. He gave a little shake of his head, indicating he didn’t need our help right then.
“No,” she said, moving to the counter that ran along the back wall behind one of the industrial ovens. “She’ll be back.”
Sure enough, Iris returned. Her eyes were a little red, but the sniffles were gone. She still looked mad, though. She came over and crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said with a mild smile.
“It’s Taylor,” she said. “He’s being a jerk.”
“Yes, you did use that word a few times yesterday,” Lucy said.
“I did?” She seemed surprised.
“Under your breath, mostly, but yes.”
“Oh. Well, he is.”
“And what flavor of jerk is he being?” I asked. After all, there were several. I’d once had a jerk practically leave me at the altar, and I was pretty sure this wasn’t that bad.
“So, he’s studying sound design, right? At SCAD.”
We nodded. Savannah College of Art and Design was also where Iris had decided to focus on studying graphic design.
“Well, he’s working on a movie project, and there’s this girl who’s also working on it, and I happen to know she really, really likes him.” She took a deep breath. “And they’re in Atlanta.” She paused.
“Atlanta,” Lucy said.
“The film’s being edited there. It’s not a SCAD project. They’re both interning for an editing company. It’s some kind of nature documentary.”
“Okay,” I said.
Iris looked between us. “Don’t you see?”
“There’s a girl there with your boyfriend, and she’s got some kind of crush on him,” I said.
“Yes!”
Lucy frowned. “Does he like her?”
Iris blew out a breath between pursed lips. “He says he doesn’t. But he’s still there with her.” She hesitated, then said in a small voice, “And she’s cute. Really cute. Long blond hair and blue eyes and perfect skin and super skinny. I know she’s going to make a play for him. I just know it.” She grimaced. “If she hasn’t already.”
“Oh, dear,” Lucy said.
“I know, right?” Iris exclaimed.
But I knew where Lucy was going and was already shaking my head. “Iris, since he’s a sound engineer who, from what you’ve told us, wants to work on films for a living, isn’t Taylor going to be in a lot of situations where he’s out of town and around women?”
She looked down at the floor. “Well, yeah. But this is different.”
“How?”
“She’s . . . she’s . . . he’s . . .” She trailed off.
“Don’t you trust Taylor?” Lucy asked in a gentle voice.
“Yes!” She frowned. “Well, mostly. But Shawna’s so pretty and—”
“Iris, there are lots of pretty women out there. And another standing right in front of me,” Lucy said, pointing at her. “I don’t know Taylor very well, but if he’s a player, then you are better off without him. And if he’s not, and he is trustworthy, then you don’t need to make yourself miserable with all this jealousy.”
“But how can I tell?” Her voice was full of anguish. “How do I know whether to trust him or not?”
Lucy put her hand on the young woman’s arm. “You trust yourself first. Your gut. And then you make a decision. If you decide not to trust him in the end, then that’s a very shaky foundation to try and build a relationship on. And if you do trust him—”
“And I’m wrong?”
My aunt sighed. “Then you’re wrong. Seriously, Iris. You have very powerful intuition. It’s a gift of yours, which we recognized as soon as we met you. So did the other spellbook club members, as a matter of fact.”
“Really?” Iris asked in a small voice.
“Yes! Really! And you know it, deep down. You just don’t trust it yet. Once you do, you’ll know what to do about Taylor.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Lucy said firmly, ending the conversation. “Now, we’ve got baking to do. Iris, you start in on the sourdough levain for tomorrow’s loaves, and Katie and I will make the candy corn cupcakes for the Halloween party. We’ll freeze them unfrosted. Katie? How do you want to flavor the cupcakes?”
“I think a simple vanilla batter will do. What’s better than yummy cupcakes that encourage luck and love?”
“Indeed.” My aunt grinned and gave a brisk nod. She went into the pantry to retrieve the ingredients, and I reached for the yellow and orange food coloring.
* * *
* * *
I was tired when I pulled into the driveway that evening. It had been a twelve-hour day at the bakery, which wasn’t all that unusual since I generally went in early to get things started in the kitchen and often stayed until we closed. However, today I felt the extra weight of Leigh Markes’ murder, her ghost demanding that I find her killer, the look in Teddy’s eyes as she asked me to hurry, and the urgent hum of needing to bring Connell back for Declan.
