Authors: Unknown
“Of course.” Oscar held his arms open wide. “It’s only been a couple years, but the last time I saw you, you were just a little girl. You’ve grown into a lovely young lady.”
“Uncle Oscar.” Lisa stepped into his embrace for a brief hug. “At least you’ve noticed that I’ve grown up. Mom still treats me like I’m a little girl.”
“And you’ll always be my little girl no matter how big you get,” she said.
Lisa let out a loud sigh. “See what I mean.”
Oscar laughed, but his gaze was on me. “And who is this handsome young man?”
“This is my boyfriend,” Lisa said.
Monica took over the introductions. “Oscar Dubois, this is Brendon Alexander. And Lisa and he are only friends.”
Oscar held out his arms like he intended to hug me, but I offered my hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Dubois.”
“Please, call me Oscar.” As he shook my hand, his eyebrows rose. He used his other hand to squeeze my bicep. “And strong, too. That’s quite a grip you have there, big fellow.”
“Brendon plays football,” Lisa said.
“Of course you do.” Oscar released my hand and wrapped his arm around mine so our elbows linked. He pulled me into the entryway, leaving the ladies on the front porch.
I wasn’t certain if Oscar only pretended to be deep into his Jack Sparrow character, but his behavior didn’t bother me.
He waved his hand around the room. “This is my humble abode.”
The house was anything but humble. The Spanish tiled entryway was about the size of a garage. To the left at the foot of the staircase, stood the opening to a huge living room. Three brown leather couches arranged in a u–shape in front of a large rock fireplace didn’t diminish the size. A piano took up one corner of the room, and a good sized bar loaded with a variety of liquor bottles took up the other. About twenty people dressed in Halloween costumes lounged about the room.
I nodded to the décor hanging on the walls. “You’ve got a nice collection of pre–Columbian artifacts.”
“My, you certainly know your treasure.” Oscar’s eyebrows rose. “You must be one of Stratton’s protégés.”
“No, but Monica…I mean, Mrs. Stratton told me you studied anthropology in college before going into the import business.”
“Oh, you cleaver boy.”
Monica grabbed Oscar’s free arm. “I thought you said this was going to be a small get together with a few of your closest friends.”
“It is, darling. These are twenty or thirty of my closest friends.”
“Did you include Mr. Bishop?”
“Yes, darling. The person you came to see is in the kitchen giving some of my guests their psychic readings.” Oscar, still holding my arm, pulled me in that direction.
“Readings? What are you talking about?” Monica trailed behind with Lisa. “What is he? Some sort of sideshow con artist? I thought you said he was accredited.”
“He is, but in this depressed economy, darling, the man has to make a living the best he can.”
The Spanish influence carried into the kitchen. So did the grandeur. Tile covered the floor as well as the countertops and the island setting in the middle. Three people sat around a large, square table. A few more gathered around the island, which was loaded with food.
Oscar pressed his finger against his lips while nodding at the table. “Let’s wait until they’re finished.”
Monica didn’t look happy. She crossed her arms and tapped the toe of her high heel shoe on the tiled floor. Only a few seconds ticked by before the three men scooted back from the table.
“People.” Oscar clapped his hands and waited until all eyes were on him. “Our guests of honor, and the reason for our little soirée, have arrived.”
Introductions were made and Oscar finally let go of my arm so I could shake hands with the other guests.
“This is the medium, Swami Bishop.” Oscar nodded to the short, slight man standing by the table.
“
Charles
Bishop,” the man corrected. He seemed annoyed that Oscar joked about his avocation.
I half expected him to be in costume like the other guests—maybe a turban and a robe decorated with zodiac symbols, but his black slacks and buttoned down shirt gave him a serious appearance.
“You have an interesting aura.” Charles switched his wine glass to his left hand and offered his right. “Have you ever had your birth chart cast?”
“Don’t believe so.” I took his outstretched hand.
He dropped to his knees in front of me. The wine glass tumbled from his fingers and landed near my feet. The stem snapped from the goblet portion and red wine spilled onto the Spanish tiled floor. I grabbed him by his upper arms to help him up.
“Get away,” he shouted. “Don’t touch me.”
“I’m sorry.” I released him and took a step back. Lisa stood behind me and I bumped into her. She slipped her arm around my waist.
The room turned silent as all eyes darted from me to the man on the floor. Oscar was the only one to react. He bent over Charles. “Is there something I can do?”
“You can assist me in getting up.” Charles grabbed at Oscar’s arm. A man dressed like a vampire grabbed his other, and they hauled him from the floor. Charles managed to get his feet set under him, but his body swayed. He clung to Oscar and the vampire as he glared at me. “Who are you?” he asked in a tone that sounded like a demand.
“Brendon Alexander,” I repeated, figuring he hadn’t caught my name.
“I mean, what are you?”
My jaw went slack. I wasn’t certain what he meant, so I gave the first answer that popped into my head. “I’m a football player in high school. I’ve been lifting weights. Guess I forget my strength.”
Charles looked at Oscar like that was the craziest thing he’d ever heard. “Did you know about him? Is that why you invited him?”
Oscar’s eyebrows rose. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Monica pushed the vampire aside and grabbed Charles’ arm. “Why don’t we go into another room so you can relax for a moment?”
Oscar opened the French doors next to the table and led them into a room that appeared to be a formal dining room. Over his shoulder, he issued the vampire an order. “William, bring another glass of wine for Charles.”
“All right, just as soon as I clean up this mess.”
“I’ll do that.” Lisa grabbed several sheets of paper towels from the countertop. “You help Mr. Bishop.”
I squatted next to the spilled wine and picked up the two halves of the glass. Lisa handed me the towels and I laid them over the spill. The red wine soaked through the white paper.
Suddenly, crimson red blood gushed from the tiles and flooded the floor in front of me. I jumped to my feet and squeezed my eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening. When I opened them, only wine soaked paper towels lay near my feet.
“Brendon!” Lisa grabbed my wrist and pried open my fingers.
Broken pieces of glass covered my palm. The bloody sight must’ve caused my reflexes to clench my hand into a fist, shattering the goblet.
She pulled me to the sink and rinsed away the shards with the gentle spray of water. Blood trickled from the small cuts and dripped on the bottom of the white sink. Broken bits of glass mingled with the red stained water and swirled down the drain.
Some guy wearing a black mask and cape peered over my shoulder. “I don’t think that broken glass is very good for the garbage disposal.”
“It’s not doing his hand any good either,” Lisa snapped.
Zorro backed off without saying another word.
She glanced at my face. “What are you laughing about?”
“You. When I first met you, you seemed like such a shy, bashful little thing, but you’ve got a secret side to you. You almost bit off his head.”
“All he was worried about was the stupid disposal.” From her tone, she hadn’t calmed down. “He wasn’t concerned at all about the cuts in your hand.”
“It’s not too bad.” I rubbed my fingers over the palm, searching for any missed slivers of glass. When I didn’t find any, I squeezed my hand into a fist, then straightened my fingers. “See, no problem. I can still catch a football.”
She grabbed more paper towels and blotted away the excess water. After she dried my hand, she continued to hold it. She gazed into my eyes while nibbling at her lip. “I don’t like it here. I’m going to find Mom and tell her I don’t want to stay. There’s something weird going on.”
Silently, I agreed. Blood had gushed from the kitchen floor just before I’d cut my hand. Similar visions occurred in my dreams, but this was the first time I’d experienced them while wide awake. I didn’t want to alarm Lisa more than she already was, so I just nodded in agreement. “Your mom’s in the dining room. Let’s wait until she comes out.”
Chapter Thirty–Five
When Monica walked into the kitchen, Lisa rushed to her. “Mom, I don’t like it here. That man was too creepy. Can we please leave?”
“We just got here.” She put her arm around Lisa’s shoulders and pulled her toward the side cabinets. “What you witnessed was upsetting, but there’s no need to overreact. Mr. Bishop apparently has a tendency for the theatrical.”
“Brendon cut his hand, Mom. He may need a doctor.”
“It’s nothing.” I held up my hand, showing them the damp flecks of blood on my palm. I wasn’t going to make Monica leave on my account. “The bleeding stopped, but I agree with Lisa. That guy is a little on the weird side.”
“We can’t leave now.” Monica grabbed my wrist and pulled me into their circle. “Oscar went to a lot of trouble arranging this for me. It’s important that I have this séance with Mr. Bishop.”
“But, Mom—”
“Lisa baby, please.” Monica took a deep breath and let it out with a heavy sigh. “He may be able to discover what’s wrong with your father.”
“Oh, Mom.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know that Daddy will ever get better.”
“I can’t give up. Not yet.” She put one finger under Lisa’s chin and lifted her head. “Can you bear with me just a little longer?”
She nodded. “This one last time. Okay?”
Lisa caved, but I wasn’t so easily swayed. “Is this guy for real? Do you trust him?”
“Oscar swears by him. He’s supposedly helped other people.”
“All right, but Lisa is spooked enough. I don’t think she should go in there. Maybe I should stay out here with her?”
“I need you in there with me, Brendon. I told Mr. Bishop about the dreams you’ve been having, and he thinks it’s connected to my husband’s illness.”
Lisa’s head snapped around. Wide eyed, she stared at me. “What dreams?”
“Nothing,” I said to calm her. “Just your typical
monster under the bed
dreams.”
“You’ve been having scary nightmares?” Her hand stroked over my chest. “Are they like the ones you had of someone dragging me away?”
She nailed me on that, but I tried to shrug it off to nothing important. “Dreams reflect our real fears. I guess I’m afraid of losing you.”
“Oh, Brendon.” Both hands pressed against my chest as she leaned to me.
“Oh, please.” Monica thrust her body between us. “Are you coming into the séance, Brendon?”
I glanced at each of the ladies in front of me. “I’ll go in, but I still think Lisa shouldn’t.”
“I can’t very well leave her out here alone. Oscar is the only person I know, and he’ll be in the room with us.”
“I can handle a séance.” Lisa’s voice turned firm. “I want to go in with you.”
“I’m not sure I can handle it, so I don’t see how you can be so certain.” I changed my tone so it reflected the same firmness. “I don’t want you in the séance.”
We stared each other down, neither flinching until Monica broke in. “Maybe you shouldn’t be in there, Lisa, but I do need Brendon.”
“I am not a baby,” she said forcefully.
Oscar joined our group. “Swami Bishop is ready for us.”
“Lisa will not be attending the séance, but I don’t want to leave her alone.” She grabbed his arm and gave him a hard stare. “Is there anyone you trust well enough to stay with my daughter?”
“Most definitely, darling. I’ll be right back.”
“I wish you’d quit treating me like a little child. I don’t need anyone to look after me.”
“I know, but just humor me on this, please.” She brushed at Lisa’s cheek.
“What are you doing?”
“Your makeup is too heavy here.”
She pushed her mother’s hand away. “I needed to cover the bruise where Daddy…”
“Mmm, right. The purple is gone and there’s just a yellow spot.” She brushed at Lisa’s chin. “Your makeup is too heavy here also.”
“That’s for the zit that popped up.”
“Oh, yes. You always get a couple of blemishes this time of the month.”
“Mom!”
Monica waved her hand at me. “He doesn’t understand what we’re talking about.”
I wasn’t so ignorant about women that I didn’t know what they were discussing, but I pressed a bewildered look on my face. “What do you mean?”