Hidden Secrets: Blackmoore Sisters Cozy Mystery Series Book 9 Read online

  “Everything’s fine. I’m just being practical.” Morgan used the excuse of getting out of the car to avoid eye contact with Jolene. She really was being practical. They had no reason to think that paranormal energy down at the beach was related to Clementine’s death, and it didn’t make sense to go stirring things up. It didn’t help that she couldn’t tell her the two paranormals she sensed were herself and Mateo. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “I’ll see you guys later,” Jolene, still behind the wheel, yelled out of Celeste’s open door. “I’ve got some work left to do back at the office for Jake on the new PI case we’re working. If I’ve got time, I’m going to check on the tide charts to see when low tide is tonight. I’m thinking it’s at six thirty. If so, we should meet up again on the beach and check out the spot where I sensed that energy. See what they were digging for. Meet in the beach parking lot at six?”

  Looked like Jolene was going to pursue this no matter what. Morgan didn’t dare protest too much. “I don’t know. I just got back and—”

  Fiona came out of the shop and crossed the porch then walked over to where they were standing near the car, cutting Morgan off. “What’s going on? Find out anything interesting from Harriett?”

  Jolene relayed what they’d learned and her plans for the meet-up later.

  “Sounds good to me,” Fiona said. “Things have been beyond slow here at the shop since you guys left, and I got all caught up and even made those earrings for Benedict. Of course, now that we know he has another lady in mind, it makes me wonder who those earrings really are for.”

  Jolene smirked. “Yeah, no wonder he wanted you to keep it on the down-low. Might not be for Alma.”

  Fiona nodded. “Anyway, I think we can close up early with no problem at all.”

  “Well, I’ll have to see if I can arrange something,” Celeste said. “I’m supposed to teach a yoga class then.”

  “Hopefully we can all make it. We can investigate that energy and put that theory to bed once and for all. Fiona and Morgan, I’ll see you two at six, then,” Jolene said. Celeste shut the door, and Jolene drove off.

  As the three sisters walked back toward the shop entrance, Fiona watched Morgan carefully. The weight of her stare prickled Morgan’s skin, making her already-on-edge nerves even more frazzled.

  “What do you say we close up shop now and go get ourselves a pedicure?” Fiona suggested. “My treat.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m down for a pedi,” Celeste said.

  Morgan stopped. A pedicure sounded like heaven, but even better, it would occupy her sisters so that she could go talk to Rose about that scrap of tarot card that Belladonna had found on Clementine’s floor. She conjured up a cough and made up another quick fib. “Oh, I’d love to, but if we’re closing, I really want to get over to the urgent care about this cold.”

  Celeste’s eyes softened. “Oh, right. Luke mentioned he was worried about that. We’ll go with you.”

  “Oh no! Really. It’s so boring there. I’m just going to see if I can get checked out to be sure it’s not something serious. Maybe get some cough meds. I wouldn’t want you guys to suffer too. Besides, it’s full of sick people. No sense in you getting sick too,” Morgan said.

  Fiona frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course,” Morgan said, praying her cheeks weren’t blazing as hot as they felt. This whole lying thing was snowballing out of control now, and she didn’t like it one bit. “I’ll meet you guys at the beach.”

  “Well, okay,” Fiona said. “But text us if you need us.”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay, then I guess it’s just us two.” Celeste backed away toward Fiona’s Jeep. “You wanna drive?”

  “Sure,” Fiona said before turning back to Morgan. “Sure you don’t want us to go with you?”

  “I’m sure.” She hated not being honest with her sisters, but until she got this mess straightened out with Rose and got her powers back, she needed to keep them protected.

  “Okay, hope you don’t have to wait too long.” Fiona went back into the shop to lock up, and Morgan got into her truck. She sat there, letting it warm up. As she watched her sisters drive off, she fiddled with the scrap of paper in her coat pocket and wondered when her life had gotten so darned complicated.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “ Ah. It’s you,” Rose said half an hour later as Morgan approached her front door again. Talk about seeing into the future. “Figured you’d be back.”

  Morgan felt flustered. Rose clearly had paranormal abilities, and she knew about the problem with Morgan’s gifts. The thing that really threw her, though, was figuring out if the woman was Clementine’s true killer and if all this was an elaborate trick. If she was the killer, it might not be very smart to venture inside her house alone, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t tell her sisters she’d found a scrap of paper that matched the tarot cards at Clementine’s, so she had to check it out for herself.

  “Come in,” Rose said, gesturing for Morgan to enter and stepping aside to allow her in. “You’ve got a problem, and I can help.”

  Morgan stood in the foyer, doing her best not to fidget as Rose took her coat and hat. She slipped the scrap of paper from her coat pocket into her jeans pocket for later. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

  “Stop.” Rose held up her hand, shaking her head. “We both know what I saw in that card last night. No sense beating around the bush. Your gifts aren’t working, are they? And I suspect your sisters don’t have a clue.”

  Stunned, all Morgan could do was nod. Rose had known, and she’d not said a word. Okay. Maybe she should trust this woman after all. She exhaled slowly, willing to at least hear her out. Plus, she could use her problem to get into Rose’s good graces then ask her about Clementine’s murder, if nothing else. “Yes. It’s true. I’m sick about it and have been trying everything I can think of to get them back. I know I need to nurture them and—”

  “Calm down,” Rose said, holding up her hand. “I’ve dealt with this before. Let’s sit down and discuss a plan of action.”

  They went back into the purple-draped living room, and Morgan took a seat on the same violet velvet settee she’d perched on before. Rose took the armchair across from her then leaned forward. “First off, do you meditate daily? If not, you should. It’s a must these days to keep yourself centered. Next, you need to ground yourself. Carrying lapis lazuli and moonstone usually works well for that.” She handed Morgan a small notepad and a pen. “Best write this down so you don’t forget.”

  Morgan did as Rose suggested and jotted down notes.

  “I’d also start wearing indigo for the next few days. Make sure you focus on your gifts as much as possible. You can’t just expect them to be there. You must summon them.” Rose’s expression was serious. “The universe will manifest what is foremost in your thoughts. If you’re walking around stewing about how your gifts aren’t working all the time, then that’s going to be your reality. It’s the secret to everything. Your thoughts become your reality.” She sat back and clasped her hands atop her lap, switching directions entirely. “Enough about that mumbo jumbo. Let’s get down to why you’re really here.”

  The abrupt shift in topic took Morgan by surprise, and she needed a moment to get her thoughts together. It was now or never. Might as well go for it. Besides, Rose had helped her. Would she do that if she were the killer? No, she’d probably try to get rid of Morgan as fast as she could. Better yet, she would probably have pretended not to be home and never answered the door.

  With a deep breath, Morgan fished the small scrap of paper out of her pocket and laid it beside a tarot deck on the coffee table between them. It was an exact match for the pattern on the back of Rose’s cards. “I found this at Clementine’s house shortly after the murder. You told us before that you hadn’t seen Clementine in a long time, but this proves otherwise.”

  Rose’s eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t prove anything. I wasn’t lying. Lots of client
s pass in and out of here each day. Any one of them could’ve taken a tarot card as a souvenir. Or bought them. I sell the decks along with the crystal balls.”

  Darn. Morgan hadn’t thought of that. Now she realized why there were so many packs of cards and crystal balls. That didn’t help narrow things down at all. Anyone could have purchased a deck of tarot cards at any time.

  Okay, then while she was here, she might as well ask about Benedict. He’d shown up in Rose’s crystal ball last night. Maybe she knew more. “What about Benedict Donovan? He appeared inside the crystal ball. Has he been here? Is he one of your clients?”

  “That man from the vision last night?” Rose frowned, her dark brows knitting. “No, he’s not one of my clients.”

  Rose’s voice was uncertain. Morgan sat forward now, seizing on that new clue. “But he has been here before?”

  “Sure.” Rose smiled. “I didn’t say anything last night, because I don’t like to talk about my clients. It’s all confidential. But that man was here before with a woman who came in for a reading. She was his girlfriend.”

  “Alma Myers?” Morgan asked. “Was that her name?”

  Rose frowned, concentrating. “Yep. That’s the name I remember. She asked me to read her tarot cards and her palm. She didn’t have a very stable love line, poor thing.” Rose shook her head. “I told her otherwise, of course. Always best for the nonparanormal clients to leave happy.”

  “What does that mean? How was her love line unstable?”

  “Came to an abrupt halt. That’s how.”

  Morgan knew nothing about palmistry. “And that means what? A love line ending abruptly. Trouble between them?”

  “Maybe. Hard to say without seeing his love line too.”

  “And did you?”

  “No. He refused. Acted a bit indignant.” Rose shrugged. “Some people get that way. But I can’t figure a nerdy old guy like that for a killer.”

  Interesting. Morgan glanced at the crystal ball again, but it was frustratingly blank. So, Alma and Benedict were having issues, at least according to Harriett, and now Rose too. And rumor had it that Benedict had his eye on a new woman. A new idea occurred to Morgan. Had Celeste’s guess about that woman being Clementine been correct? That would explain why he’d looked so furtive in Rose’s visions. If he was sneaking around behind Alma’s back.

  Did he really kill her because she’d spurned his advances? But if he was sneaking over to her house to meet with her, didn’t that mean he was expected? Maybe even welcome?

  Morgan checked her watch. Five forty-five. Time to go if she was going to meet her sisters at the beach. She pushed to her feet and grabbed the scrap of paper from the cushion where she’d laid it and tucked it safely back in her pocket. “Well, thank you so much for your help, Rose. I’ll start using these instructions you gave me as soon as I get home.”

  “Good girl. You do as I say, and you’ll be right as rain before you know it. Like I said, I’ve been through this with many a paranormal client before, and it always works out as it’s supposed to in the end,” Rose called from her chair in the living room. “Forgive me if I don’t see you out, dear. Bad knees, you know.”

  Morgan raced down to the curb and into her truck, feeling more optimistic than she had since this whole debacle started.

  IN THE DEAD OF WINTER, the Noquitt Beach parking lot was always empty, so Morgan had no trouble finding a spot. She parked near the long rows of benches that faced the ocean and got out, her mind still whirling with what she’d learned at Rose’s.

  Brisk salt air stung her face as she walked over to join her sisters near the edge of the pavement. Jolene had been right. The tide was definitely out, the ocean floor exposed for what seemed like a mile in front of them. The distant crashing of waves still echoed through the fog, adding a haunted feel to the place. The forecasted snow had held off too, and the wind from the day before had left patches of sand visible beneath the previous day’s dusting of snow as they walked out onto the beach.

  Down a bit was the walkway in the dunes over to the river side. They crossed it, and Morgan was glad to find this area was better shielded and not so cold. Jolene guided them to a spot across from where Mrs. Tower’s shed was located on the other side of the river. Here the river wasn’t wide—maybe only ten feet across. But miles of sandy riverbank were exposed, and rocks were piled up in various spots. At high tide, the whole stretch would be submerged in water, but since it was low tide, only the thinnest ribbon of river ran through. On the other side were rambling old cottages with large sections of land in between.

  Fiona immediately headed for a pile of rocks, putting her hands on them. They glowed slightly beneath her touch. “Something’s under here. Not sure what though.”

  The sound of a car door slamming in the distance had them turning around. Morgan’s heart raced, and she searched the area for a place for them to hide in case whoever had been here the night Jolene had sensed the paranormal energy had returned. Moments later, though, Celeste appeared over the walkway to join them. The sisters breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I thought you had to teach yoga tonight,” Morgan said, swiping a strand of dark hair back under her hood from where it had escaped.

  “I did, but I was able to find a substitute instructor to fill in for me.” Celeste joined them on the beach. “So I decided to head down here with you guys instead.” She’d no more than finished saying that when her eyes got that fuzzy, distant look they always did when she was channeling a spirit from the other side. Without another word to Morgan, Celeste wandered away toward the riverbank, her expression dazed. Morgan glanced over to see Jolene, with her eyes closed, concentrating on the energy fields surrounding the place. Feeling guilty and left out, Morgan closed her eyes too, pretending to use her intuition to sense what was going on here.

  It’s the secret to everything. Your thoughts become your reality.

  Rose’s words from earlier swirled in her head. Morgan did her best to picture everything working perfectly in her mind—her intuition strong and true, her instincts on point—but nothing happened. No telltale curl of energy in the pit of her stomach, no shiver of premonition over her skin. Nothing. Her spirits fell once more.

  You can’t just expect them to be there. You must summon them now.

  Tears stung the backs of her eyes. What if she couldn’t summon them anymore?

  What if her gifts were gone for good?

  Finally, Jolene broke the tense silence. “I see paranormal energy starting here and going into the water. They came by boat.”

  Morgan opened her eyes reluctantly, blinking hard and swallowing around the lump in her throat. Her sisters were all looking at her for confirmation, and she didn’t want to disappointment them, so she nodded and said, “Agreed.”

  “This rock here is a marker. I’d guarantee it.” Fiona pointed to the largest of the boulders stacked nearby. “It’s really old. Could be a treasure marker.”

  “Could be,” Celeste said, walking back from the river’s edge. “I just spoke to the ghost of an old pirate, Captain Brown, who buried some loot here a couple of centuries ago. He says people have been coming for it by boat and digging ever since. But they’ll never get through, according to him, because it’s buried too deep. The tide always comes back in before they can reach it and fills the holes. In his day, the pirate said, the river didn’t rise that high. That’s how he managed to bury his treasure here. Just as well, since he said folly will come to anyone who steals it.”

  “That’s great and all, sis, but what does that have to do with Clementine’s murder?” Jolene asked.

  “Nothing that I can see,” Fiona said, snorting. “Maybe Morgan was right, and this murder doesn’t have any paranormal involvement.”

  “I did ask him if the people digging here were Clementine’s killers or if they knew anything about the murder, but he said he didn’t think so. Said he never heard them talking about murdering anyone. Only getting his riches. He also indicated that they
weren’t very, er… competent. Though he used more colorful language.”

  “So, incompetent paranormals?” Jolene stared at the trail of paranormal energy that only she could see.

  “But would they be related to Clementine’s murder?” Celeste asked.

  Jolene shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Didn’t Alma say something about a bunch of hooligans? Maybe one of them wears a navy-and-white cap.”

  “I think she only said that hooligans would drive a truck like Morgan’s, not that they were at Clementine’s,” Celeste said.

  “Yeah, I guess we still have some investigating to do.”

  “Well then.” Morgan blew on her hands, chilled to the bone despite all her layers. “It’s freezing out here. Can we maybe talk about this at home, where it’s warm?”

  They walked back to their cars slowly, the sound of the returning ocean doing little to comfort Morgan’s sadness. She feared no matter how much practicing and meditating and grounding of herself she did, no matter if she painted her whole body indigo and chanted under the full moon at midnight, her powers might never come back. And if they didn’t, then what would she do?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  A t home, Morgan ran upstairs and changed into an indigo sweater and flannel PJ pants, per Rose’s instructions. When she came down to the sitting room, her sisters were all in the sitting room snuggled under soft, fluffy blankets while a cozy fire crackled in the old brick fireplace. She’d also put on her favorite lapis lazuli pendent and had a moonstone stuck in her pocket. Not taking any chances. Nope. The smell of hot chocolate spiced the room along with the soft snores of Belladonna, who was curled up in a plush cat bed just far enough away from the hearth to be safe.

  As Morgan entered, the snores stopped, and one ice-blue eye cracked open to stare at her. Darn cat, it was unnerving!

  “Hot cocoa?” Johanna lifted the antique Limoges cocoa pot and raised her brows.