Garden of Sorrow (Book 4 of Psychic Visions, a paranormal romantic suspense) (3 page)

The idea had merit. Maybe she could find another little house, one with a huge garden, where she could start her hanging basket business again. She'd built it up with Lissa's help as an addon to her fulltime job. The long-term plan was to expand and eventually make it full-time work. She'd given it up when her sister had gotten sick.

With fresh eyes, Alexis examined her surroundings. The walls leading to the entrance were chipped, peeling, and the elevator decorated with graffiti. Even the gray hall leading to her dismal apartment was dingy and showed a lack of care. It was essentially clean, but a sense of desolation permeated the place.

Alexis stopped as she reached her apartment door, casually glancing back down the way she'd come.

And froze.

Horrified recognition washed over her. Terror gripped her throat before escaping in a gasp of shock. Uncontrollable trembling wracked her lean frame. Her fingers lost their grip, and the keys tumbled to the threadbare carpet below.

The hallway. Dear God, it looked to be the same as the one she'd experienced in the ditch.

I
t couldn't be!

Alexis bent slowly to retrieve her keys, keeping a wary eye on the hallway. She desperately wanted into the safety of her apartment but didn't dare turn her back on the creepy space.

Her fingers trembled so much she couldn't get the damn key to work. Finally, the lock clicked. She flung the door open, raced inside, slammed and locked the door behind her. Alexis leaned back against the door, shaking and sobbing. Her heart hammered in her chest. What the hell was happening to her? She rubbed away her tears. Her life had been normal up until today – sad in many ways, but normal.

It took several long minutes before her legs could function. It took several more before her breathing calmed. Still shaky but no longer panicked, Alexis slowly moved to the bathroom.

"God, I'm cold," she muttered, turning water on for a hot shower. And so tired. Steam filled the room as she stripped off her clothes. Alexis scrambled under the hot water, where she tipped her head back and let the full force of the water pour down. The steam soothed her senses, the heat easing her aching muscles. Only when the water ran cold did she turn off the taps. Her legs trembled slightly as the rough towel whisked off the moisture.

The images wouldn't leave her alone.

That poor child lying lost and forgotten in the garden, discarded…like garbage. Alexis dressed quickly, pulling on a heavy sweater and tugging her wet hair free of the wool. Shivers rattled her teeth. "Why can't I get warm?" Grabbing a spare towel, she twisted her hair up inside it and headed for the kitchen.

She put the kettle on for a hot cup of tea.

While waiting for the water to boil, she gazed out at a world that appeared so calm and normal on the surface. Was she the only one who'd dipped beneath the facade? Had the years of enforced calm – holding it together at all costs, in a world so beyond her control – damaged her psyche?

Alexis.

The fragile voice broke into her musings. So clear, so sharp, yet so…whispery. Prickles rose on the back of her neck, goose bumps across her skin.
It couldn't be!

Afraid to look, but more terrified not to, Alexis twisted with agonizing slowness.

Lissa!

A beloved and so familiar wispy vision of her sister sat at the table, as if waiting – like she had for so many years – for her cup of tea.

"Lissa," Alex whispered, her voice aching with tenderness…

Alexis was petrified the sound of her own voice would break the spell…and the miracle of her sister's presence would disappear. She'd hoped for, prayed for such a visit. Her heart swelled with joy…and awe…and fear. "Lissa, is that you?"

The apparition flickered then slowly began to fade.

"No, don't go, Lissa!" Alexis cried out. "Please," she begged. "Please don't go!" Her voice faded as the vision dissipated into the air.

It was too much.

Alexis crumpled at the table with her head in her arms and sobbed out the last year of grief and loss. Pain held in too long, burst free. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably as her body weathered the storm.

Eventually, the tempest expended itself, leaving a heavier exhaustion and emotional devastation behind. Alexis lay with her cheek against the cheap Formica tabletop, staring at the spot where she'd thought she'd seen her sister. The occasional hot tear still welled up to slide down her cheeks.

What was happening to her? Was she having a breakdown? That would make sense. She'd endured a horrific amount of stress and loss in her world… But why now? On the anniversary date? The time to break down would have been the day she'd buried her sister. But for it to happen a year later… That didn't make sense.

The teakettle whistled on cue. That was normal. After all, she'd put that teakettle on. She could accept that – unlike the rest of her day. Feeling as if she'd aged fifty years, she poured water over the teabag and watched the tea stain the liquid. Wafting her hand over the top, the steam warmed her fingers – as it should. This was the normal, the usual and the right.

She'd survived Lissa's death because she'd depended on that normalcy. She expected it. She counted on it.

And today, her whole world had been blown apart by – dare she say it – a vision, a body, and…a ghost.

***

The wind blew hard outside the double glass doors. Branches swiped the edge of the railing, making a faint scratching sound…like a ghost asking to come into the private nursing home room.

The older man chuckled. There was no such thing as a ghost. If there were, he'd have been haunted years ago. Still the concept had given him pause over the years…for a moment or two.

He shifted closer to the prone man on the bed. He studied the slack features as he twirled his balloon glass slowly. The rich aroma of his Glenfiddich Whisky swirled in an ever-rising circle bursting forth to assail his senses. His brother's favorite. He closed his eyes and breathed deep. He kept a bottle here in the room for evenings like these. He sank his thin frame deeper into his armchair, facing the glass doors to the gardens beyond. Heavy rain bounced off the patio, flattening the delicate rose petals.

Odd how that rain could be a blessing for grass, yet signal the end of the blooms on a rose. Such delicate plants. It was the same for people. What was a disaster to one was a gift to another. Some people were hardy and could withstand the harsh elements of life, and then there were the others, the delicate ones that needed protecting. He was good at that – the protecting part. Of course, people didn't always understand or appreciate his protective methods, or know what was good for them.

Stretching his arm out, he grabbed the remote and turned on the television. Maybe his brother would like the distraction. There had to be something to break up the monotony of lying there day by day. Personally, this was his favorite time of day. A little peace and quiet, a little time alone where he didn't have to pretend to be something he wasn't – with his brother.

The evening news came on, the announcer bubbling about some large contribution to a local charity. A moment later, he brought up today's headlines.

The man straightened in shock.
What the hell?

***

The next morning woke clear and warm, with one insistent message rattling around inside Alexis's head – she needed help, and soon. She didn't know who to ask or even what kind of help she needed. Still, just admitting she had the problem could be thought of as a big step forward.

Regardless, at the moment she needed to get to work. Her soul needed the comfort of the gardens. Only there wasn't likely to be anything peaceful about them today. The damage from the excavation yesterday could be extensive.

Arriving at work twenty minutes later, Alexis cast a wide glance across the park. From the looks of them, the gardens needed her, too.

They'd been trashed. She wanted to howl at the damage. Damn.

One officer stood off to the side. She nodded at him, but stayed away. Some of the police tape had been removed, though most still sagged in place. Several long strands of it cordoned off the grave and surrounding area. A few forlorn pieces blew aimlessly across the park. Heavy vehicles had left muddy ruts in the grass. Litter decorated muddy footprints. The carelessly discarded Styrofoam cups and cigarette butts really burned her.

The park definitely had a 'morning after' appearance.

She exhaled hard, rolled up her sleeves, and tucked her shirt into her jeans. She pulled several garbage bags from her truck. After putting on her work boots, she stomped her feet a couple of times to settle in, then locked her truck and stormed around the site on her clean-up mission. Every area of the park came under her scrutiny as she searched for offending human trash – every area, but one.

When she finally realized what she'd unconsciously been avoiding, Alexis forced herself to walk toward the tiny open grave. The police officer stood to one side, his narrowed eyes watching her.

The grave remained achingly difficult to gaze upon.

Alexis couldn't stand the lonely, uncared for look of it. She had to do something.

She couldn't enter the area, but she stacked several rocks just inside the cordoned off perimeter, where the ground held deep ruts from the vehicles. Maybe this location for her construction would reduce vandalism. Stepping back, she studied her handiwork.

As a memorial, it left much to be desired.

Plants. It needed the healing energy of plants. Chewing the inside of her lip, she surveyed her gardens. Her understanding of Mother Nature had become well honed over the years. Her coworkers called her spooky because of the way the plants responded to her. According to them, she could bring any dead plant back to life almost immediately and even make flowers appear out of season. That wasn't true, of course. Not totally.

She couldn't save them all.

As for the plants flowering off-season, who said plants could only flower at specific times? Alexis couldn't explain why her methods worked. She only knew they did.

Alexis gave them the same loving attention she gave to animals and kids. Walking through the flowers, she called out softly to them. "How are you guys doing today? Yesterday was tough on all of us, wasn't it?" She stopped here and there, once to smooth a bent leaf, another time to stroke a particularly bright petal. "It's okay. It's all over. Everything is back to normal now."

She continued to speak to her babies, murmuring soft words of comfort as she checked out each one. Her senses picked up on the energy levels of the plants around her. One small daisy plant with multiple white petals had a dark dull color to it. Alexis walked closer.

The leaves drooped miserably. It cried out for help. She couldn't resist. Gently, her hands hovered over it. Years ago, she'd read several books on tricks to improve plant health and she had to admit, with practice it seemed to work better all the time. The more caring and attention she devoted to her plants, the better they did. Nothing magical about that. Common sense, really. One of the books also mentioned something about playing music and using soft lights. She grinned. Like her boss would let her do that.

Within a few intense seconds, the plant brightened ever so slightly, almost appearing happy to have the company. Alexis laughed at that whimsical thought. She did have a good imagination.

That thought wiped the smile off her face. Had Lissa's ghost been a figment of her imagination? God, she hoped not.

Using another technique from the book, she focused a loving green – for health and healing – light around a different listless daisy plant.

"What else can I do for you, little one?" She chuckled at her words, for in truth it was a decent size. She glanced over at the grave and without giving herself a chance to reconsider, she dug up the plant, making sure she kept a large root ball attached.

"Yup, they're really going to think I'm nuts for this one." Alexis checked the surrounding area. Outside of the silent ever-watchful police presence, she was still alone. "I can always move you again, if you're not happy there," she murmured.

It would be the public that showed its displeasure. A lone flowering plant wasn't going to be considered an artistic improvement. Yet, as a memorial, it was a start.

Using her hands, she carefully loaded up as much of the rich black dirt around the ball as she could then carried it over to the rock pile. After planting it deep, she rearranged the rocks in an artistic pattern, creating a backdrop for the daisy.

Scott found her almost an hour later.

"Alex?"

Bent over her tools, Alexis raked the footprints from the flowerbeds. She straightened and smiled up at him. "Hi, Scott. About time you showed up."

"Don't you be worrying about me. The real question is, how are you?" He studied her face.

Alexis grimaced and looked off in the distance to avoid his piercing blue eyes. He had a way of seeing things a little too clearly. "I'm better. It helps being in the gardens." She motioned to the mess around them. "We have a lot of work ahead of us."

"There's time. I don't know if the police are done yet." He studied the daisy flower memorial. "Did you do that?"

"What? Oh, yeah, I did." She searched his expression. "I had to do something," she added warily, hoping for, but not quite expecting, understanding. She needn't have worried. Scott was already nodding acceptance.

"You're different this morning. What's the matter?" he asked.

Startled, she hid her expression behind the fall of her hair.

"Come on. What's going on?" Concern thickened his tone, making him harder to understand.

She didn't know how to answer him, so she said nothing, just looked quietly into his eyes. What could she say that he'd believe – that wouldn't make her sound on the edge of a breakdown? Accepting the visions seemed too far-fetched, even for her.

The intensity of his gaze changed. "Oh wow," he muttered softly. "You've always had a touch of the Sight, but something's changed." He studied her face. "But what?"