Ripped From the Pages (20 page)

Guru Bob insisted on paying for Amelia’s funeral.

“Does she have relatives in the area?” Derek asked.

“Trudy will know,” Robson said. “As soon as she is able to speak, we will obtain the
information and begin the preparations.”

He sounded tired, but it was probably because he was so sad.

“I will attempt to persuade Trudy to move into my home,” he continued. “There is plenty
of room.”

“You know she won’t go for that,” Gabriel said. “She’s still feisty enough to fight
you on it.”

Guru Bob smiled, despite the lines of worry across his forehead. “Yes, I know. And
I admire her lively spirit. But I am beside myself with worry, and I simply cannot
bear the idea of her remaining in a home where such violence occurred. But if she
insists, I would appreciate it if you would increase the security levels at her house.”

“No problem.”

“She knows her assailant,” Derek said, not mincing words. “She saw the person aim
the gun and kill Amelia. The killer knows this, so Trudy is in danger. However, I
don’t think moving
her from her home would be the best thing for her. Especially not to your house, Robson.
We don’t want to endanger you, too.”

He thought about that. “Then what can we do?”

“I’ll move into her house,” Gabriel said easily. “She’s got an extra bedroom or two,
and it’ll only be for a few days, until she’s well enough to tell us what happened.”

I sat up on the couch and said, “I could move in with her. I could protect her.”

Derek whipped around. “No.”

Just
no
. What the heck? But the other men shook their heads in agreement with him.

“Sorry, babe,” Gabriel said. “You’re already on the injured list.”

“I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

Robson smiled. “I am grateful for your generous offer, Brooklyn, but I must agree
with Derek. I will not jeopardize your health and safety any more than it already
has been. And forgive me, but I have Trudy’s safety to consider as well.”

“I guess you’re right. I wouldn’t be much help in my current condition.” But I glowered
at Derek anyway.

Derek glared back until I raised my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. You win.”

Maybe he was right, but did he have to give me such a dirty look? I wanted to help.
I knew I’d totally blown it when I arrived a few seconds too late to help Trudy or
Amelia. Hell, I didn’t even get a look at the killer. It was infuriating.

The front door swung open, and my mother and father charged into the room. Mom was
carrying a heavy case.

Maggie jumped up and barked with delight. She ambled over and allowed Dad to pet her
vigorously.

“Where is she?” Mom demanded as she whirled around, scanning the rooms. “Brooklyn?
Oh, there you are. Thank Buddha.”

Dad left Maggie and came to the couch, where he leaned over and gave me a light kiss
on the good side of my head.

“Hi, Dad.”

He sat down and held my hand as Mom set the briefcase she’d been carrying on the coffee
table. She immediately pressed the back of her hand against my forehead.

“What’re you doing, Mom?”

“Just checking that you don’t have a fever.”

“The killer didn’t sneeze on me,” I grumbled as I settled back against the pillows.

“Very funny.” She pressed her hands to her stomach and breathed in and out. “You took
ten years off my life, missy.”

“Mine, too, kiddo,” Dad said, sniffling a little.

They were obviously distraught, so I grabbed both of their hands and gave them a squeeze.
“I’m sorry. But really, I’ll be fine. I just got a little bump on the head.”

Since my head was wrapped in yards of gauze and bandages, I didn’t blame Mom for rolling
her eyes at me.

“It looks worse than it is,” I mumbled.

“Just stop talking,” she advised, and opened her case to reveal a veritable pharmacopoeia
of vials and potions and tinctures and God knew what else. Probably a tube of fairy
dust and some eye of newt.

Heaven help me, the Grand Raven Mistress of the Celtic Goddess Coven was on a mission.
And her mission was
me
.

Once upon a time, my mother would’ve dissolved into tears at the sight of my head
bashed in. Now, though, Dad was the one tearing up while Mom was all business as she
pulled out the ingredients to work one of her world-class healing and protection spells.
As far as she was concerned, white magic would cure whatever ailed me.

Seriously. She believed it. The funny thing was, once in a
while her crazy magic spells actually worked. But you wouldn’t catch me saying that
out loud.

I cast a pleading look at Derek, silently beseeching him to rescue me from Glinda
the Good Witch. But Derek’s eyes sparkled with laughter, and I knew I would get no
support from him.

Robson gazed fondly at my mother as she prepared to terrorize me. So no help from
him, either.

And forget Gabriel. Grinning shamelessly, he got up from the dining table, walked
into the living room, and sat down to watch the show.

Mom pressed her fingers against the middle of my forehead—my third eye—and intoned,
“Om shanti . . . shanti . . . shanti.”

Peace.

I couldn’t help but close my eyes and breathe. Repeated three times, the simple Sanskrit
chant was meant to protect me from the three disturbances brought on by nature, the
modern world, and one’s own negativity.

I hoped it worked.

“I know you’re in pain, so I’ll keep it simple,” Mom said, pressing two black tourmaline
crystals into my hand. “Hold these. Visualize their power.”

Black tourmaline. I’d seen Mom work with it before. According to her, the ancients
had employed the stone as potent protection from demons and negative forces.

All black stones were protective by nature, but black
tourmaline’s power was further enhanced by its unique shape, a three-sided prism with
vertical striations that acted as a strong deflector of negative energy.

Mom stood and closed her eyes. She reached out and touched my head with both of her
hands, and began to chant:

“Goddess of Earth, Wind, Water, and Fire,

Grant me one wish I desire,

Protect my loved one from evil’s spell,

Be ever watchful and guard her well.

Focus her power, make her strong,

Banish all that do her wrong.

My thanks and praise I offer thee

And as I mote, so shall it be.”

A circle of white light surrounded me like mist in a forest. The black stones seemed
to vibrate in my hands, sending waves of calming strength up my arms, across my shoulders,
and down my spine. Glinda really did know her stuff. Within seconds, I fell sound
asleep.

*   *   *

I
woke up a while later, unsure how long I’d slept. It was evening, and the living room
drapes had been pulled closed. There were no lights on, and the room was dark. Too
dark. Almost depressing. I struggled to sit up, wondering where Derek was.

“Hello, gracious.”

“Oh!” I jolted, and the sudden movement caused my head to ache. But I had to admit
the pain wasn’t as pronounced as it had been before my mother’s visit, so go figure.
“Hi, Robson.”

He was still seated at the dining table a few yards away from me. “I apologize for
frightening you.”

“That’s okay. I wasn’t sure anyone was home.”

“Derek drove to the pharmacy to obtain some instant ice packs and a heating pad for
you.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful.”

“Is there anything I can get you?” he asked.

It felt odd to be asking him for favors, but I plunged ahead. “Would you mind turning
on some lights for me?”

“Of course not.” He carried his chair over and set it down closer to the couch. After
switching on several table lamps around the room, he sat and observed me. I figured
I must’ve looked pretty bad to have him so concerned.

Maggie the dog shuffled over and settled at Guru Bob’s feet while Charlie pounced
against his shoe until he lifted her onto his lap. Ordinarily, Charlie would’ve been
tucked up against me, but I had a feeling her instinctive kitty perception told her
that Guru Bob was in more dire need of some affection.

“They love you,” I said.

He smiled at Charlie as he stroked the kitten’s back. “If only we humans could show
one another as much pure love as animals do.”

“If only,” I murmured.

He returned his gaze to me. “I told Derek I would stay until he returned, in case
there was anything you needed.”

“That wasn’t necessary, but thank you.” I rearranged the pillows so I could sit upright
and face him. “How is Trudy?”

“She is still unconscious, although the doctor indicated that she is recuperating
nicely. She will stay in the hospital until she wakes up and is fully recovered. It
could be a day or two.” Even though his words were encouraging, he wore a worried
frown.

I didn’t want to sound like an alarmist and add to his worries, but I was suddenly
nervous. “I hope they have someone watching her room. She’s the only one who can identify
Amelia’s killer.”

Guru Bob didn’t respond right away. He was an expert at keeping his emotions in check,
but the subject of Amelia and
Trudy’s assailant was testing his resolve. Finally he said, “It is such a blessing
to have you and Derek staying in Dharma. Rest assured that he has already contacted
his office to arrange a security detail and his people were quick to install a guard
outside her hospital room.”

“That’s good.” I gritted my teeth and confessed what I’d been considering for the
last few hours. “I should probably move back to the city.”

“Because you feel you have brought death to Dharma.”

It was weird to be reminded that Guru Bob always seemed to know exactly what was going
on in my head. Could he read my thoughts? Probably not, but he seemed to possess an
uncanny empathic ability that most people lacked. Whatever his strengths, he blew
my mind on a regular basis.

“We’ve talked about it before,” I said, referring to my disconcerting habit of finding
dead people. “But this time it’s hitting too close to home. I don’t want anyone else
to be hurt. I feel awful about Amelia.”

“And you blame yourself,” he concluded.

“Well, yes.” Did I? It sounded dumb to say it out loud. “Okay, I don’t actually blame
myself, but what the heck? I show up and somebody dies! It’s creepy. If I were you
or someone else, I would think twice about inviting
me
to dinner, if you know what I mean.”

His smile broadened, lightening my mood despite my worries. “I used to get more sympathy
from you,” I grumbled.

He laughed, a deep melodic sound that was like music. “You know I have complete sympathy
and concern for your feelings in this matter. I also am aware of your role in Amelia’s
life.”

I sighed. “I didn’t mean to be so antagonistic toward her, if that’s what you mean.
But she always seemed so annoyed to see me. I guess I let it get to me.”

He sobered. “I misspoke. Let me rephrase my statement. I am aware of your role in
Amelia’s
death
.”

“What?” It took me a few long moments to figure out what he was talking about, and
I was afraid my face fell when I finally did. “Are you talking about that whole
Nemesis
thing?”

Nemesis
was the name of an Agatha Christie novel in which Miss Marple received a letter from
a man who’d recently died, in which he beseeched her to investigate the death of his
son’s fiancée. Guru Bob thought that, like Miss Marple, my destiny might somehow be
wrapped up in seeking vengeance and justice for the dead who could no longer speak
for themselves.

It was a little crazy, but how else could I explain my proclivity for finding dead
bodies with such alarming regularity?

“Yes, gracious. I know that in your heart, you realize this, but let me make it extra
clear: you are not to blame for Amelia’s death. That blame goes directly to the person
who killed her in cold blood.”

“I know, but come on.” I flailed my arms for emphasis. “Don’t you think it’s a little
weird that I show up in Dharma and within days, there’s a dead body? And then another
one? What am I doing here? How will it end?”

“I cannot say how it will end,” he admitted. “But I repeat, those deaths have nothing
to do with your being here.”

“But—”

“Whether you were here or not, we would have opened the cave and found the body. I
think that Amelia was killed because of that discovery. In other words, it would have
happened anyway.” He held up his hand to stop me from interrupting again. “Your reason
for being here is clear. You are not the harbinger of doom, gracious. You are the
bringer of justice. You will find that justice for Amelia. You will solve the puzzle
of Monsieur Renaud’s death. And you will do all of this because you simply cannot
help yourself.”

“I can’t help myself.” I thought about it and shook my head. “That makes me sound
pitiful. And even a little ruthless.”

“Not one bit,” Guru Bob said with a tenacity I appreciated but didn’t quite believe.
“The last time we spoke of such things, you told me that each time you have been confronted
with violent death, you’ve focused your mind on the loved ones left behind. Their
pain. Their ruined lives. That is your motivation; that is your purpose in delving
so deeply into the mysteries of why such a thing happened and who caused it. And that
is neither ruthless nor pitiable. It is a most admirable trait.”

Admirable? Sometimes I wondered, but I had to admit it felt good to know Robson’s
thoughts on all of this. “But the police . . .”

“You have never hindered a police investigation.”

“I’ve tried not to,” I said, grinning sheepishly. “But the police might disagree.”

His smile was serene. “They are wrong.”

Who was I to argue with a highly evolved conscious being? Especially one who was trying
his best to cajole me out of my one-woman pity party? “Thank you.”

“You are welcome.” He bowed his head slightly. “Perhaps you will grant me a favor
or two?”