The Spiritist Page 6

  Cole didn’t believe in mincing words at the beginning or end of a relationship. He had a soft corner for Prime Verve because the company had been at the cutting edge of pharmaceutical innovation and development ten years ago when he’d started his security firm. Prime Verve was one of his first clients. Since the company commanded immense respect, securing a contract with them had helped Cole in his own field. Jerry’s father introduced him to important people. An extraordinary businessman, he’d a flair for business and an uncanny ability to pick the right people for the job. Cole had enjoyed working with him. Unfortunately, he died five years ago, and his son didn’t seem to have the same instinctive sense for good administration. One of Jerry’s first acts as Managing Director had been to refuse renewal of Hudson Security’s contract because of an altercation over financial payments. He’d hired another less expensive firm for the job. Cole had told him that it would prove to be a mistake in the long run.

  Indeed, within a few years, Jerry’s decision produced disastrous results. But Cole was willing to let bygones be. He’d an old association with Prime Verve and was willing to protect the company – but not with his hands tied behind his back.

  “If you can’t agree to our terms, I am afraid we will not be able to take up this contract. You have to allow us free leeway to do what we need to do to protect your projects. I’m afraid I have to leave now.” Cole looked at his watch. His plane was due to leave in two hours. “I’m sorry this is not working out, Jerry. But either you admit your shortcomings and relinquish control in my hands, or else find yourself another security company. I can’t offer anything other than that.” He stood and walked out of the room.

  Michael followed close behind. Rather than take the elevator, they took the stairs. “I don’t know why you even considered getting into another contract with them. Jerry has no head for business. His board members are moving him about like a puppet.”

  “And it is likely that one of them is leaking information to their competitors. Michael, I want you to run a check on all his board members. See if anything pops up.”

  “But what good would that do? He doesn’t want to work with us.”

  Perhaps the best thing would be to move forward and forget about Prime Verve, but Cole still had enough lingering respect for Jerry’s father to try and convince his son that he was being duped by the very people he trusted. “If we can find something that links one of his board members to the information leaks, he might listen to us. It doesn’t matter whom he hires. He can hire another company, for all I care. All I want to do is to protect and save Prime Verve. I owe a lot to Jerry’s father, and this company was his baby.”

  “Ok. I will run a check.” Michael shrugged. They emerged out of the building and stood in the nearly deserted parking lot. “I have some preliminary reports about the New Island firm, and my team has come up with revolutionary software. I want you to take a look at both reports.”

  “Email me the details. I will go over them,” said Cole, his mind already elsewhere. At night, he had to attend a charity black-tie event in Chicago. His personal assistant had already sent him a copy of his appointments for the next day, and he wanted to remind her to pencil in a meeting at the Pentagon. They had bid to provide the security for a huge defense project, and he wanted to be sure everything was on track. It would be a huge success for the company, not to mention that it would add considerably to the bottom line.

  As they waited for the chauffeurs to bring their cars, Cole handed Michael a list of names. “Look into these companies. We may be working with them in the coming year. Make a summary of each, and we will go over them later in the week.”

  As his car slid to a stop, Cole’s phone beeped. As Michael walked towards his ride, Cole sat in his car and picked up the call. It was Damon. “Hello, Damon. Got something interesting?”

  “I’ve collected a lot of information. Would you like me to give you a verbal summary or should I email?”

  “Give me a verbal summary first,” said Cole as he settled back in the seat.

  “Aerilyn Thomas is twenty-eight. Born and brought up in Alby, she owns about half of it along with her mother and grandmother. She is a multi-millionaire.”

  “What?” Whatever he’d been expecting, this wasn’t it. Nothing about Aerilyn spelled money. She’d appeared so simple. Even her shop hadn’t been ostentatious. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.” Damon didn’t seem to take offense at the implied lack of confidence. “Her maternal grandfather, a renowned land developer, bought most of the property in Alby. He developed and sold some of it. His wife, Aerilyn’s grandmother, got half of it after his death. He left quarter of it to his daughter, and the rest to his granddaughter who was only ten when he died. At eighteen years of age, she got access to her first trust fund and received the second half three years later. Along with shares and stocks, she owns several properties, residential and commercial. Most of them are on rent except for Witch Central, which she runs personally.”

  “Holy Shit!” said Cole. Why the hell would a wealthy woman play the role of a witch in a small town? Could it be that she was insane or bored? Was it a way for her to make her life interesting? Most women bought shoes and dresses when bored. Perhaps Aerilyn found it interesting to run a con.

  “Hello? Are you there?” Damon’s impatient voice cut through his reverie.

  “Sure, go on.”

  “Aerilyn has a Masters degree in Herbal Science and is a certified Herbalist. She opened her shop three years ago and the business is doing well. She is well-respected in her community as is her grandmother who also lives in Alby.” Damon cleared his throat. “There is one additional fact that may or may not be useful to you.”

  “What?”

  “Aerilyn claims to be a witch, as does her grandmother. Not much is known about her mother.” He paused for a reaction, and when none was forthcoming, continued in an impassionate voice. “Six years ago, Aerilyn went up to the local police station in Portland and filed a complaint along with one Raissa Smith. They claimed that Raissa’s husband, Ben, hadn’t died in an accident but was killed by his brother Logan. Aerilyn declared that she had communicated with Ben’s spirit and discovered the truth. ”

  So she had been running this con for many years. Perhaps that formed the basis for her supreme confidence. Was this case the one she’d meant when he asked her if she had caught a murder before? “How did she know the couple?”

  “Raissa and Aerilyn were friends since high school. Raissa married Ben, the younger son of a wealthy family in Portland, and she moved there.”

  “What happened after they filed the complaint?”

  “The police found no evidence to corroborate the claim. Ben had been found dead in his own house, at the bottom of the stairs. Coroner’s report said he fell and died of internal injuries. His wife Raissa was away for a week-long conference. She worked with a travel agency in Portland. The widow made this claim four months after his death at the behest of Aerilyn who said she talked to his spirit who told her that his brother pushed him off the stairs.”

  A cold chill snaked up Cole’s spine. The familiarity of her claim with that of Thomas’s was uncanny. “What did the police do?”

  “They laughed the two of them out of the station. The Chief of Police later called Aerilyn and cautioned her in strong terms not to disclose such information to public, or else she could be sued for defamation by Logan. That was the first and last time she claimed to talk to spirits, at least officially, but I’ve heard that she does take on an occasional client as a spiritist. But she charges no money for these spirit consultations.”

  “I see,” Cole didn’t quite understand what would motivate Aerilyn to revisit history by making a similar claim with Joan. What did she hope to achieve this time? Once more, she ran the risk of being ridiculed by the authorities. Any sensible con person would stay away from a swindle that would get him or her into limelight. She was doing the exact opposite of what she was supposed to do.
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br />   In any competitive business, it paid to understand the motivation of the people one dealt with. A master at his work, Cole had made it his job to analyze his opponents and his customers. He enjoyed studying human behavior, but with Aerilyn, he was lost. He didn’t quite understand her.

  “I will email you all the details. Also, I’ve gone over our old report on Thomas. I even talked to the police officers, pulled some favors, and got access to the case file. There is nothing new that I can add. The police considered it to be an open and shut case. No foul play was indicated. No prints or signs of forced entry were discovered. No one saw anyone suspicious come in or out of the building.”

  “Thank you, Damon. I will let you know if there is anything else I need.” Cole terminated the connection. He remained lost in thought. Damon’s information gave him cause for worry. If Aerilyn didn’t hope to get any money out of Joan, why would she make such wild claims and bring into question her own credibility? What motivated this woman?

  What did she hope to achieve? Now that the main factor of money had been taken out of the equation, he felt he didn’t understand her motivation at all.

  As he neared the airport, Cole received another call. It was Joan. “Cole, I’ve talked to Cally.” Joan started without preamble. There was a breathless quality to her voice. She sounded excited. “I asked her if she knew anyone named Robin. Cally said that the reason she broke up with Thomas was because she thought he was cheating on her. He was spending time doing something he wouldn’t talk about. Naturally, she suspected the involvement of another woman. And guess what, Cally said she recalled a conversation she had with Thomas. And listen to this, Thomas told her that he suspected someone called Robin as the cause of Simon’s drug overdose.”

  Cole found himself sweating despite the air conditioning in the air. The hair on the back of his neck rose. “Was she sure of the name?”

  “Very sure. According to Thomas, Robin supplied drugs to Simon. Cally had never met this Robin, but she thought Thomas might have come across the man in his apartment. Do you know what that means?” Her voice became loud and high-pitched. “Aerilyn was right; what if Thomas was finding things about this Robin and he didn’t want to tell Cally about it. Could this be the reason for his murder?”

  “Joan. Please don’t jump to conclusions.” Cole’s heart hammered. Could she be right? Was Robin really a real person and not just a figment of Aerilyn’s overactive imagination?

  What if Aerilyn really was who she claimed to be?

  Cole realized that he needed to start from the beginning. If he was going to get to the bottom of this mystery, he would have to set aside all his prior beliefs. Any good investigator knew that it didn’t pay to make assumptions. He had made an assumption; that Aerilyn was after money and she was playing a con.

  But what if he was wrong? What if she was the real deal? How did that change things?

  “I’m going to call Aerilyn and ask her to give me an appointment for a séance. We need to find out more,” said Joan.

  “You’re right,” he said, his mind abuzz with a million questions. “We do need more information.”

  “I’ll call you when I know more,” said Joan and hung up.

  For a few moments, Cole remained motionless, the phone beeping in his ear. His mind was in turmoil. Cole was not a superstitious man by nature. He neither believed in bad luck nor felt the need to eliminate the thirteenth floor from his office buildings. He didn’t think the breaking of a mirror brought bad fortune or that black cats were inauspicious. But right at this moment, he felt the need to ward off the feeling of dread that threatened to overwhelm his senses. In these modern times, in the world of touch screens, robotics, and genetic engineering, it was hard to believe that there was a place for witches and spiritists.

  And yet, what other possible explanation could there be for the information Joan had unraveled – and which directly corroborated everything Aerilyn said?

  Pieces that didn’t make sense earlier began to settle into a cohesive whole in his mind. The mystery surrounding Aerilyn began to clear. He had been wrong in his assessment of her motivation and skills. Dread settled in his heart as he realized what this all meant. If Aerilyn was genuinely a spiritist, then what did it mean for Joan? Was Thomas’s death actually a murder? And if yes, how could the police and his own investigating team have missed the truth so blatantly?

  Cole put the phone back in his pocket. He leaned his head against the seat and closed his eyes. “Joe, take me to Alby.”

  The driver sounded surprised by this sudden change of plan. “Alby, sir?”

  “Yes. That’s right.”

  As they rode fast down the highway, Cole didn’t open his eyes for the next one and a half hour ride. He wasn’t sleepy, but he did need to clear his mind for the task ahead. In his years of dealing in corporate espionage, security breaches, and even murder, he’d learnt that there was no end to the surprises one could get in life. He and his team had solved cases that had baffled the police. They had caught murderers, stopped employees from selling corporate secrets, and found missing people.

  This was something new, something way out of his experience. And perhaps this presented an opportunity to learn something astounding and marvelous.

  He didn’t believe in squandering any opportunity.

  At nearly seven in the evening, his car slid to a stop outside Witch Central. Cole disembarked. He asked the driver to leave his luggage at the inn and go back to Portland. He would walk back to the inn. The soft hues of dusk were settling into the sky. A few stray clouds hovered overhead, but it appeared it would not rain tonight.

  He opened the door and entered the shop. Three people were browsing, while a couple stood at the counter as Selina bagged their purchases. Cole waited for her to be free. She cast a glance in his direction that turned into a haughty stare as she recognized him. Cole gave a smile which she ignored. He didn’t quite mind; he deserved the frank disdain.

  Knight strolled out of the backroom, leapt up on the counter and sat, his haughty gaze fixed on Cole. After the couple left the shop and she still hadn’t bothered to look back at him, Cole ambled to the counter. He scratched the cat behind the ears. “Is she with a client?”

  Selina sneered. “What do you want now? Didn’t you say enough the other day?”

  “Perhaps I crossed a line.” He raised his hands as she gave him a hostile glare. “Fine. I was way over the line, but I have come to see the error of my ways. Could you please tell her that I am waiting outside until she is finished?”

  “I would like to buy these.” One of the women who were browsing carried a pair of finely wrought silver cups to the counter. “They are just what I wanted; a wedding gift for a friend.”

  “Be glad to, ma’am.” With a precise efficiency, Selina rang up the purchase, bagged the goods, and handed the receipt to the customer. She put the cash inside the till before turning back to Cole. “I’ll tell her you’re here,” she said imperiously before turning on her heels and disappearing inside the room. A moment later, she came back outside. “She will see you now.”

  Cole entered, not sure what to expect. He hadn’t left things on a good note at their last meeting. Aerilyn was seated on one of the chairs. Today, she wore a long, white skirt and a pale green cotton top. Big, round silver earrings dangled from her ears. Her hair was tied in a neat bun.

  She looked like a gypsy; a beautiful, exotic, blonde gypsy with an air of intrigue and mysticism.

  The candles were not lit; instead the room was bathed in the soft glow of spotlights. “Hi,” he said.

  “Please take a seat,” she said.

  They both sat facing each other, the large, green stone sitting in their middle. “Is that a real emerald?”

  “Yes. It’s been in my family since the time of my great-great-great grandmother. It’s passed down from mother to her first daughter.”

  To his surprise, he believed her. Cole ran his finger over the smooth facets of the emerald. Slightly wa
rm to the touch, the stone seemed to be heated from within. “It must be extremely valuable. You just leave it lying around in your shop?”

  “It has been stolen twice since it came into the family. At the time of my great-great-great grandmother, a friend stole it. She gave it back three months later, after she contracted leprosy. She believed the stone caused her misfortune. Later, my great grandmother lost it during the process of shifting from one town to another. She believed someone may have stolen it. It was mailed back to her ten years later from Texas with a note that said ‘It has brought us nothing but misfortune.’”

  “So it’s cursed?” Cole eyed the glittering emerald, not sure if he believed in its power.

  Aerilyn’s lip lifted in a smile. “Nothing like that. At least I don’t think so, but when someone has done something wrong, there is guilt in their heart. And it’s easier to blame an inanimate object for their trouble than to admit to bad karma.” She cupped her hands around the stone and suddenly the emerald began to glow with an earthy luminosity. The light brightened until every inch of the emerald shone with an incandescent glow. “This is not a very special stone. It doesn’t bestow power or luck, good or bad, on anyone. It is, however, a medium for collecting extra energy.”

  Cole’s eyes were fixed on the shimmering emerald. “What does that mean?”

  Aerilyn removed her hands and slowly the light within the emerald dimmed until it regained its usual luster. “The stone stores the energy from various sources, usually from the one who regularly uses it. The same energy can be borrowed back from the stone at a time of need.”

  Cole blinked. If he hadn’t seen the transformation of the stone with his own eyes, he might not have believed it. Seeing really was believing. She did have some extraordinary tricks up her sleeve. And he had to admit that this was all new, unchartered territory for him.

  “Weren’t you planning to go to Portland today?”

  Time to come clean. Cole didn’t mind admitting he was wrong when he was. “I came here to apologize for doubting you.” He told her about his conversation with Joan, and the existence of a person named Robin who was a suspected drug dealer.