Tug of Attraction (22 page)

“Would you like to see a picture of him?”

“Yes. Do you have one?”

“It wasn’t taken with a telephoto lens, but it’s fairly clear.” He pulled up a picture on his camera phone.”

Jonathan saw a handsome young man with brown hair and a rugged five o’clock stubble on his strong jaw. It wasn’t possible to see the color of his eyes or tell his height. “He seems healthy enough to support a family. He doesn’t limp or drool, does he?”

The PI laughed. “No. He seems like a decent young man. He’ll probably make you a good-looking grandkid.”

Jonathan nodded and the PI put the phone back in his pocket.

“There is one thing...”

“What’s that?”

“I thought I recognized the name and when I looked into some old news stories, I found it.”

The coy way the PI was acting made his hackles rise. “Well, for Christ sake, what is it?”

“His mother committed suicide.”

“Oh, shit. Insanity in the family. That’s just lovely.” Jonathan made a sound of disgust.

“I don’t think that’s it. The news story wasn’t very specific, but they mentioned it happened shortly after a marital separation. The elder Cox is living in Arizona now—with a woman who once lived in Portsmouth.”

“So, are you saying we should add infidelity to the gene pool?”

“Not necessarily. Just that there may have been circumstances leading to a situational depression rather than something more long-lasting. Either way, the kid has been through a lot.”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t confront him?”

“Not at all. I just wanted you to be aware of what I found. It might have some impact. It might not.”

“What do I say to him?”

The PI shrugged. “You’ll think of something.”

That didn’t sit well. “Do you have any other leads or is he the only one?”

“The only one I’ve seen so far. Do you want me to continue to look for others?”

Jonathan reviewed what the PI had said. The two of them could just be old high school friends, but would he be that protective of a chum? “Why don’t you continue to follow Brigit, just in case. In the meantime, I’ll get in touch with my friend the Harbormaster. Maybe I can find out what Ethan Cox was doing at the docks.”

The PI nodded. “That’s what I’d recommend.”

Mr. Graham thought about it carefully. “I really can’t come up with a single excuse to bring him here. He doesn’t have a side business fixing up old homes or anything, does he?”

“Not that I know of.”

Jonathan rose and paced. At that moment, Brigit’s mother drove into the driveway. “I’d rather you go now.”

The PI rose and held out his hand. “Let me know how it goes. If you have what you need, you won’t owe me much more than my retainer.”

“And if he’s not the one?”

“I’ll start over. Don’t worry. We’ll find out who he is.”

Mr. Graham grasped his hand and shook it, then ushered him out a side door.

T
he following day Brigit returned to Myranda’s occult shop, prepared to give her medium gift a try. Hopefully, her friend would be patient and understanding as she learned more about it. When Myranda spotted her, she greeted her with a smile.

“Hi, Myranda. I thought about your offer.”

Myranda looked confused. “What offer?”

Oh, no. I thought I had a job here.
“Um...You said if I learned to use my gift of attracting spirits and could communicate with them—”

A light of recognition Myranda shown in her eyes. “Oh, yes. Have you been able to accomplish that, so quickly?”

“Well, I’ve made a start on it. I’m no expert, that’s for sure. But I imagine the more I practice, the better I’ll get.”

Myranda came over and took her hand, then led her to the back area and into one of the little rooms. Brigit felt like she was being escorted to the principal’s office. She went to close the door behind them, but Brigit said, “Leave it open.”

Myranda sat behind the small table, and gestured for Brigit to sit in the chair opposite. She tipped her head. “Are you really ready to do this, or are you just desperate for a job?”

Brigit cringed. “Uh...both?”

Myranda laughed. “Well, at least you’re being honest. But you have to understand...I can’t charge people if you’re still learning. I have the shop’s reputation to think of.”

Brigit stopped listening. Not only did she know what her friend was in the process of saying, but she also saw a spirit standing behind Myranda’s left shoulder. It appeared to be an elderly woman and she was mouthing a word. The same word, over and over.

“Myranda?” She interrupted. “What does Charity mean to you?”

Myranda reared back. She seemed stunned for a moment. “Charity? Are you asking for charity?”

“Huh? Oh, no! Not at all. There’s a spirit behind you—a woman, and she’s telling me to say the word ‘charity.’”

Myranda slapped a hand over her mouth. “My Great Aunt Charity?”

The spirit nodded and Brigit affirmed it for her.

“What else is she saying?” Myranda leaned closer and Brigit listened very carefully as the ghost said something else that made no sense to her. Then she took a penny out of her skirt pocket.

“She’s showing me a penny.”

Myranda’s mouth opened wide. “I—I understand that. What else?”

The spirit placed the penny on Myranda’s shoulder. Now the words she’d been saying came through. Brigit chuckled.

“She just placed the penny on your shoulder, and I think she’s telling you to sit up straight.”

Myranda leaned back and laughed. Then she rolled her shoulders back and lifted her chest and chin. “There. Is that better Aunt Charity?”

The spirit nodded, looking pleased.

“Yup. That’s what she wanted.”

Myranda continued to laugh and crossed her legs. “That’s her all right. She used to put a penny on my shoulder and one on my brother’s shoulder and tell us that whoever kept their penny on the longest could keep it.

Of course, we weren’t playing along for the money. We knew the value of a penny wasn’t much to get excited about, but we always fell for the little competition between us. I think it was her way of keeping us from turning summersaults all over her house, and it taught us good posture at the same time.

Brigit laughed. “I’ll have to remember that trick. Except that my child won’t have a sister or brother. Oh well. I can just use that trick to teach good posture.”

Myranda smiled. “How do you know you won’t have more?”

Brigit’s face must have betrayed her. “It’s...it’s complicated.”

“Does Ethan have something to do with it?”

Startled, she opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t think of what to say. “Um...Why do you ask that?”

Myranda shrugged one shoulder as if the other one was balancing a penny. “Just a vibe Yvonne and I got at the last coven ritual—and then again yesterday.”

“Seriously? We’re giving off vibes now?”

“Sure. It happens all the time. I like the idea of you two being together. You make a cute couple.”

Brigit was about to halt the whole conversation, but she remembered the last time she was here, and Myranda saw an obstacle in her crystal ball. Maybe now she could tell her what it was.

“I think I see what’s happening, Brigit.”

“You do?”
Boy, she’s good. I didn’t even have to ask.

“You and Ethan. You think one of you will be asked to leave the coven if Hanna finds out you’re together.”

Brigit shot to her feet. “What?”

Myranda stared at her. “You knew the coven was supposed to be made up of unrelated individuals, right?”

“Huh? No. When did that happen?”

Myranda worried her lip. “That’s the way it’s been since Michele and Donovan...well, I shouldn’t gossip.”

“Please?”

“No. I don’t do to others what I don’t want done to me and that includes gossiping.”

She humphed. “Is that why Dru left? Because he and Rebecca are a couple?”

“No. He left because he’s a cowboy in Texas.” Myranda chuckled.

Brigit wasn’t seeing the humor in the situation. “Are you saying that if Ethan and I were a couple, Hanna would make one of us quit?”

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask Hanna.”

“Well, that’s not a problem, because we’re not a couple. I just didn’t know about that rule.”

“It’s not a rule—I don’t think it is, anyway. She just doesn’t like complicated dynamics. I remember her saying something about it when Donovan was booted out.”

“I was in California then.”

“Yes. You came along right after that.”

“I replaced someone that moved away, I thought.”

“It feels like you’ve been with us since the beginning.”

Brigit noticed the subtle change in subject. She couldn’t help wondering what the hell happened. “Was Ethan one of the original members?”

“No. He came in right before you did.”

“So there were a couple of changes?”

“It takes some people a while to feel it out and decide if it fits into their lives or not. As you know, it requires a lot of dedication.”

“That’s true.” As Brigid let her mind wander, Myranda’s Aunt Charity disappeared. Maybe that’s what happened if a medium lost her concentration.

“So, what do you think about my clairvoyance? Would it be all right it I read clients? Maybe I could do a few for free to get more practice.”

Myranda grimaced. “Yikes. I don’t want to give the impression that anyone working here is less than an experienced professional. Maybe you could read the other coven members first.”

“That’s a good idea. We’re getting together for Yule soon. Will you be there?”

“Always.”

“Does your husband ever have a Christmas party or anything that interferes this time of year?” 

“If he does, he goes without me. He knows when our coven meets, I have an obligation to be there. Besides, I can’t think of any party I’d rather attend.” Myranda grinned.

“He sounds pretty understanding. It’s good to know that men like that exist.”

“Granted, they’re few and far between. But trust me, they’re out there. Your Ethan is one of them.”

She didn’t have to ask how Myranda knew that. The woman was as psychic as Edgar Casey. She was beginning to entertain the idea of incorporating Ethan into her life to the extent he wanted. He seemed realistic about not marrying. And if what he said about not wanting to date other people was true, she could handle being in a relationship. But now there was this new wrinkle. Would one of them have to leave the coven?

She glanced toward the front of the store and noticed it was starting to snow. “I have a lot to think about, Myranda. I’d better get home. Something else I need to do is find a maternity coat pattern.”

“Oh! That’s right. You’ll need new clothes soon. You sew?”

“Yup. And it’s a good thing too. I can’t afford to go shopping right now, but I can probably add some stretchy panels to a few existing items and I have an Indian blanket that I thought would make a pretty coat.”

“Wow. You really are resourceful. Don’t worry, Mama. I know you’ll be just fine.”

Brigit appreciated the vote of confidence. Her own confidence was waning like the moon.

* * * *

W
hen she arrived home, she was surprised to find her mother, stepfather, and a stranger in her little guest house. There was someone else sitting on her couch, but with his head down, she couldn’t see his face. Then he lifted it.

“Ethan?” There was a defeated look in his eyes that she’d never seen before, and his hair was sticking up as if he’d raked his fingers through it and left it like that. Then she noticed his clothes. They were damp and rumbled.

Her mother was wringing her hands.

“I told you I’d find him, and I did,” her stepfather boasted.

“What’s going on?” she asked, wishing this weren’t happening at all. It was Ethan’s appearance that worried her the most. He was usually clean cut—maybe a little windblown, but not like this. Then she spotted the swelling and redness on his cheek.

She quickly sat beside him, touched the spot and he winced. “What happened? Did he hit you?” she asked incredulously.

“No. I fell.”

She cocked her head. Would he lie to protect her stepfather? She whirled on him. “Did you hit him, Jonathan?”

“No. I didn’t touch him.”

The stranger spoke up. “I yanked him by the collar and he fell off his boat. Don’t you believe your fiancée?”

Fiancée?
“Now wait just a minute,” she snapped. “Ethan and I agreed that we’re not ready to take that step. Who are you to decide—”

Her stepfather barked a laugh. “Not ready? You’re both in your thirties. You’ve known each other since high school.
You’re pregnant!
Just when the hell
do
you think you’ll be ready?”

“I—I don’t know, but we won’t be bullied into marriage.”

Ethan rested his hand on her knee. “I think your father is right, Bridge. It’s not like we’re strangers. And I promised I’d step-up and take responsibility.”

“You promised who?”

He nodded toward Mr. and Mrs. Graham. “Them.”

“And you promised me you wouldn’t.”

Ethan stared at her stepfather. “I told you this wouldn’t go well.”

Brigit then pointed to the stranger. “Who are you?”

“Just someone I hired to help me,” Jonathan said before the stranger could answer.

“And if you’re satisfied with my services, I think I’ll leave now.”

Mr. Graham nodded.

“Not so fast. I think the police need to be called,” Brigit said.

Ethan glanced over at her. “Police? What for?”

“He caused you to fall and you got hurt. Don’t you want to press charges?”

The guy barked a laugh.

Ethan shook his head. “No. Let him go.”

Brigit strode to the door, opened it for the dark, menacing man and slammed it behind him. Then she hurried back to Ethan. “Do you want an ice pack?”

“Do you have one?”

Her mother spoke up. “I’ll make one for him.”

Brigit let her mother take care of that chore. She looked like she needed something to do besides worry. Sitting next to Ethan again, she asked, “Are you badly hurt?”

“No. It’s just a bruise.”

“Stop fussing over him,” her stepfather snapped. “You’re the one who needs medical attention.”