A Haunted Twist of Fate (20 page)

“Hmmm.” Hannah turned back to the sink and scrubbed
his dish with a soapy rag, apparently not going to pry. “Sorry to hear that. It
sure is nice to have you here for breakfast. Wish you’d come more often. I miss
cooking for you.” She rinsed the dish. “Why aren’t you in the office yet?”

“I don’t have any appointments until later. And I
wanted to ask the two of you some questions about Frank.”

“What kinds of questions?” Chet asked.

“Do either of you know what happened to his daughter,
Alicia? I remember Granddaddy mentioning she’d died a long time ago, but do you
recall any more details?”

“You know more about that family than I do, Chet.” 
Hannah ran a sponge over the stovetop.

After Chet forked the last of the eggs into his
mouth, he pushed back his plate and patted his stomach. “That was a wonderful
breakfast, Hannah. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, dear.”

“Well, Daddy? What do you know about Alicia?”

“Why are you asking, son?”

The whole thing about ghosts appearing to Shay would
take too long to explain. But his folks would understand his curiosity
regarding the photograph of Frank’s daughter that looked like her. Even though
Shay wanted nothing more to do with him, his newfound interest in the Averill
family had been piqued.

After describing to Chet what had happened at
Frank’s, his father offered what he knew. “Alicia Averill ran away when she was
about twenty years old. She met a much older man, someone from out of town, at
the café where she worked. When Frank found out, he threatened the guy. Frank
told him to leave Alicia alone or he’d kill him. Next thing Frank knew, Alicia
was gone. She’d apparently left town with the man. Frank and Bonnie received
one letter from Alicia a few months later, but they had no idea how to find her.
The postmark was illegible. Next time they got word, about seven months later,
Alicia was dead. She’d died in a car accident. It tore them both up, as you can
imagine.”

Colt shook his head. For the second time in a matter
of moments, his daddy had expounded on a subject not related to music or
ranching. “Did Frank blame himself for her death?”

“I expect so.”

“You say Shay looks like Frank’s daughter?” Hannah
stopped her work and joined them at the table.

“Yep. The likeness is uncanny. We also saw an old photograph
of his grandmother Averill. There’s a resemblance there, too.”

Hannah’s eyes grew large. “What does it mean?”

“I have no idea, but I appreciate you talking to me
about the Averill family, Daddy.” He stood up and jiggled his belt buckle while
expelling a deep breath. “Let’s keep this conversation to ourselves for the
time being, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, son.”

“Mama, thank you for breakfast.” He kissed her on
the cheek and shook his father’s hand then lifted his Stetson off the seat of
another chair and slid it on his head. “I’ll see y’all later.”

As he headed for the front door, Hannah followed and
swung him around by the shoulder. “How did you respond when Shay told you she
no longer wanted to see you?”

Colt shook his head. “There wasn’t much I could say.
She has her reasons, I guess. I have to respect that.”

“Hogwash,” Hannah snapped. She wagged her finger in
his nose. “You like that girl. I can see it written all over your face. I
haven’t seen you this jolly in years.”

“Happiness is fleeting, Mama. I learned that a long
time ago.”

She punched his arm.

“Ow! What’d you do that for?”

“For once in your life, Colton Morgan, stop being a
good ol’ boy and don’t let this woman slip away. If you want her, go after her!
You can’t let her call all the shots.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“The hell it isn’t.”

Colt’s eyes bulged. He’d never heard his God-fearing
mama curse before.

“How do you think I got your
good ol’ boy
father to marry me? I went after him, that’s how.”

When Colt saw his dad appear in the door behind his
mom and shrug and nod, he had to laugh.

Hannah whispered in his ear. “If you love her, son,
you’ve got to fight for her. You’ll regret it if you don’t. Remember, a day
without love is like a day without sunshine.”

He cocked his head, having heard a familiar saying. “I
think that’s a commercial about orange juice.”

Hannah shoved him out the door. “Whatever.”

Thirty-Three

Brenda didn’t look like a person who saw dead
people. Shay wasn’t sure what she’d expected.  Maybe a hippie wearing a flowing
skirt, peasant blouse, silver bangles and flowers in her hair. Or a Goth
dressed all in black. But Brenda Preston was nothing like either of those. She
was a tall brunette with a short, stylish haircut and was dressed in jeans and
a crisp white blouse and heels. From the way Colt had spoken of her, Shay
thought she’d be a space cadet, too. Pleasant and professional, she was not how
Colt had made her out to be at all.

They shook hands. “Come in, Ms. Preston. Thank you
for coming.”

“I don’t mind if you call me Brenda. May I call you
Shay?” Her smile was open and friendly.

“Sure.” Shay welcomed her inside and liked her
immediately. “Won’t you have a seat?” After offering her a chair at one of the
gambling tables, she proposed coffee or tea.

“No, I’m fine.” Brenda’s gaze traveled around the
big room. “Believe it or not, I’ve never been in this building before.  I’m
surprised, since there have been rumors for as long as I can remember.”

Shay pulled out her chair and sat. “There hasn’t
been anyone living here for years. The previous owner closed the saloon a long
time ago.”

“That would be Mr. Averill.”

“Yes. He’s elderly now and quite ill.”

“So I’ve heard.” Brenda gazed up at the ceiling and
over to the staircase. “There’s a lot of paranormal activity in here.”

Shay didn’t reply. Brenda suddenly placed her palms
flat on the table and closed her eyes. Shay wanted to ask if she was already
connecting with a spirit, but she was afraid of interrupting her trance, or
whatever she was experiencing. She herself didn’t feel any presence nearby at
the moment.

Brenda opened her eyes after a few moments.  “There
are many souls here. They continue to linger because this is where they are
most comfortable. It’s like home to them.”

Shay nodded. “I often hear men playing cards in this
room. Seems they’re still enjoying poker games and smoking their cigars. It can
be unnerving, but I’m not afraid of those ghosts.”

Brenda smiled. “No need to be. They have no intent
to harm. They simply don’t know they’re dead. They should be guided into the
light.”

“Can you guide them?”

“Yes, but not today. We’ll hold a special ceremony
another time. It’s the others you’re concerned with. Am I correct?” Without
waiting for an answer, Brenda’s gaze drifted to the staircase and stuck. Shay
held her breath. She hadn’t told her anything about Callie or Everett. It was
her way of testing Brenda and her abilities.

“There’s a spirit upstairs,” Brenda stated.

Again, Shay didn’t respond, but she felt a tingle
race across her shoulders. When Brenda stood up and propelled herself toward
the stairs, Shay scooted her chair out and followed.

Brenda stopped at the piano and smiled. Speaking to
someone invisible, she said, “Yes, you’re a very lucky man to be surrounded by
so many pretty girls.” She turned to Shay. “The piano player says he has the
best job in town because the girls sit next to him on the bench when they
sing.”

Shay felt excited that Brenda seemed to be making
connections already.  She glanced at the piano and remembered the photo of the
saloon girls gathered around it. She didn’t recall seeing a man in any of the
pictures she’d found, but that probably only meant there wasn’t a picture of
him in those particular books. “Would you like to go upstairs?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Shay led her to the top of the stairs and then
stopped and waited to see which room Brenda was drawn to. Without hesitation,
Brenda stepped into Shay’s bedroom and stood at the foot of the iron bed. With
her heart lodged in her throat, Shay waited with baited breath to hear what
Brenda was going to say next.

“Have you seen the physical manifestation of the
woman who haunts this room?” Her eyes flipped shut again.

Shay’s tongue felt tied. Brenda really did have a
gift. “Yes,” she answered. “She’s shown herself to me three times.” She didn’t
know how much information she should share and decided to let Brenda ask
specific questions.

“She’s blonde with blue eyes.”

“That’s right.” Although her enthusiasm was growing,
Shay didn’t allow her stoic veneer to crack.  Brenda had a lot more to prove.

Brenda turned and pointed to the fireplace. “She was
there. I can feel her residual energy. She’s hiding now. Come out,” she
requested softly. “I’d like to speak to you. We’re not here to cause any harm.”

Shay looked around the room but didn’t see Callie
anywhere. She didn’t feel her either, the way she had before. If Brenda claimed
Callie was in the room, even for a minute, why didn’t Shay see or feel her
presence?

“This woman keeps a secret,” Brenda went on.

“Do you know her name?” Shay felt this to be the
biggest test. 

Brenda took a deep breath and opened her eyes. “I
believe her name is Elizabeth. Yes, it’s definitely Elizabeth.”

Disappointed, Shay softly sighed. Maybe Colt was
right. Maybe Brenda was a fake. To say Callie had blonde hair and blue eyes was
probably a lucky guess. But she hadn’t even gotten the first letter in her name
correct. A door slamming downstairs jerked her from her wandering thoughts.

The two women looked at each other.  Then Brenda
bolted out of the room and flew down the stairs. Shay followed, nearly tripping
down the steps in her eagerness. Brenda came to an abrupt halt at the basement
door.

“Someone is down there.”

Recalling how the entity had terrified her that day
in the basement, Shay quietly said, “Yes. He’s the bad one.”

“I’m going down.” Brenda reached for the doorknob.

“No.” Shay’s hand shot out and covered hers. “He’s
violent and powerful. He’s tried to hurt me.”

“I’m not afraid.” Brenda wrenched the door open. As
soon as she took a step forward, a strong gale-force wind whooshed up the
stairs and knocked them both backward. Shay flew into the back wall and Brenda
fell to the floor.  The familiar rotten smell swirled and clung to Shay’s
nostrils.

Clearly and loudly, a deep voice commanded, “Leave!”
and the basement door banged shut.  There were no more threats or violence. 
The entity apparently had gone.

Shaken but not injured, Shay offered her hand to
Brenda and helped her stand. “Are you okay? You took a hard fall.”

Nodding, Brenda rubbed her hip after Shay got her to
her feet. “I didn’t fall. I was pushed.”

“Did you see the demon’s face?”

“No. Did you?”

Shay shook her head. “I haven’t seen it even once.”

“I felt his strength and his anger.”

No kidding, Shay thought. She’d felt Everett’s anger
on several occasions, but she’d never heard him speak until now. “Did you hear
anything?” she asked tentatively, wondering if Brenda had heard the voice, or
if Shay had only imagined it.

“He wants you to leave,” Brenda said.

“His name is Everett, and I think he killed the girl
upstairs,” Shay blurted, immediately wishing she had kept her mouth shut. She
should have waited for Brenda to provide that information.

“Everett? Do you know his last name?”

With the cat out of the bag, Shay told her more. “Yes.
It’s Rawlins. I read about him in an old newspaper article. It’s all there
about how he murdered Cal—one of the saloon girls, and was then shot by the
owner of this establishment, Dean Averill.”

Brenda threw her a sideways glance, but thankfully she
didn’t question her further. Maybe she hadn’t caught Shay’s slip of the tongue.
Since Brenda had gotten Callie’s name wrong, Shay didn’t want to give away any
hints in case Brenda later retracted what she’d already told her about the
girl.

“I don’t think the spirit in the basement is Everett
Rawlins,” Brenda said, walking back into the main room and lifting her purse
from the table.

“If it’s not Everett, then who is it?” Shay narrowed
her eyes. She didn’t know whether to believe Brenda’s hunch or not.

“I don’t have a firm handle on that yet, but hold
on. I’m receiving a message right now, and I think it’s Rawlins coming through.”
She closed her eyes and flung the back of her hand to her forehead in dramatic
fashion. Shay watched Brenda’s chest rise and fall as she inhaled deep,
cleansing breaths.