Just before five o’clock, Bella hurries toward the post office, located in a little white clapboard cottage near the entrance to the Dale.
‘Hi, Bella!’ Roxy calls from her post at the gatehouse. ‘How are the puppies?’
‘They’re doing well!’
‘I’ll come visit them again tomorrow. And Max, too.’
‘He’ll love that.’ She waves and heads inside, fanning herself with the stack of envelopes in her hand.
The gray-haired, bespectacled woman behind the counter greets her with a grin. ‘Bella! I hear you’ve got a litter of puppies at Valley View?’
‘We do, Glenda. I don’t suppose you’re interested in adopting one? Or four?’
‘You know I’m a cat person.’
‘Drew has a couple of adorable kittens looking for a home.’
‘I have seven. Any more, and my husband will divorce me. Now, what can I do for you?’
‘I need six, seven, eight stamps,’ she says, counting envelopes and handing over a ten-dollar bill. ‘I’m hoping it’s not too late for these to go out today? Most of them are already overdue.’
‘Bills? Welcome to the club. Every time I think I’m caught up, I get hit with something else. Here, I’ll put the postage on and get them right out for you.’
Bella thanks her, pockets the change, and heads back out into the late-day sun, deciding to collect Max on her way back.
Like Valley View and Odelia’s cottage between them, Misty’s home was built in the nineteenth century, though it lacks the gingerbread embellishment and period paint palette of its neighbors. It’s white and boxy, fronted by an enclosed porch and sagging steps – far more old than old-world charming. The front lawn has more weeds and bare patches than grass, and is often littered with Jiffy’s toys, though not today.
A wooden shingle beside the door reads Misty Starr, Psychic Consultant. Beneath that, a placard announces: The Medium Is In.
After confirming that the Reading In Progress sign isn’t posted in the window, Bella opens the screen door to the porch that serves as a waiting room and Jiffy’s clutter depository. A couple of New Age magazines share table space with a box of sidewalk chalk and a caterpillar chewing a leaf in an empty peanut butter jar covered with netting. One of the plastic guest chairs is heaped with beach towels – damp and probably there for a few days, Bella guesses, based on the mildew aroma. Another chair holds one child-sized sneaker, and the helmet she insists Jiffy wear when he and Max ride their scooters.
‘Misty? Hello?’
Beyond the closed door to the rest of the house, Jiffy’s dog, Jelly, is barking and the Beach Boys are singing ‘Don’t Worry, Baby’.
Misty considers herself a musical medium, often channeling messages through melodies, lyrics, and the occasional dead musician. She prefers listening to the radio over electronic playlists and earbuds.
‘When you plug in, you tune out,’ she’d explained to Bella. ‘And you never know when Spirit is going to touch in via the radio airwaves.’
‘You mean, spirit voices?’
‘Sure, sometimes, if there’s static and you listen closely, you can hear them. But it’s not just that. You know how you’ll be driving along, and a song comes on the car radio, and it freaks you out because you were just thinking about it, or it has special meaning in that moment?’
Oh, yes. Bella knows all about that.
According to Misty, ‘It’s never random, Bells. It’s a message from the Other Side.’
‘Misty?’ Bella turns the knob and pushes, but the door doesn’t budge.
Locked? Really? This is unusual, albeit long overdue for a mother whose child had been kidnapped last winter.
Bella had presumed – wrongfully so – that Misty would have become fanatically cautious after that ordeal, from which her son had emerged unscathed, thank goodness.
Jiffy, being Jiffy, had not only predicted his own abduction months in advance, but had perceived it as an adventure – before, during and after.
Misty, being Misty, prefers not to dwell on difficult times.
‘Life should be lived moment by moment. Otherwise, you might miss something great,’ she’s often told Bella, who supposes there’s something to be said for that attitude.
By the same token, though, if you don’t take a lesson from the past, you might miss the chance to prevent something … not so great. It seems Misty has finally figured that out.
‘Misty!’ She knocks, then pounds, on the door. ‘Misty!’
The music comes down a decibel, then footsteps.
Misty opens the door.
Larger-than-life – physically, and personality-wise – she’s barefoot, wearing her usual array of dangly, jangly jewelry with cut-off shorts and a white T-shirt that bears Mick Jagger’s face and a large purple stain. Her nose is pierced, a small silver star-shaped stud gleaming among the freckles. Her straw-colored hair, usually a tumble of unkempt waves, is woven into cornrows with colorful beads at the bottoms.
‘Bells! What’s going on?’
Bells. She’d bestowed the nickname soon after they’d met. It had irked Bella at first, just as Misty had. She’d learned to tolerate both. Now, she embraces both the nickname and Misty herself – the latter quite literally as Misty throws her bare, fleshy, tattooed arms around Bella with a jangling of bracelets.
‘I’ve missed you, Bells!’
‘Aw, I’ve missed you, too.’
‘Shh, Jelly, quiet down!’ Misty shakes her head, her beads clacking against each other, as the wildly barking puppy bounds around their ankles. ‘I hear you have a houseful of dogs.’
‘I do! And I see you have a new hairstyle.’
‘I do! It’s fun, right? Mike hates it,’ she adds cheerfully.
That’s not surprising. Bella had met her husband only once, when he visited for Christmas. He seemed like a nice enough guy, if a little stiff and controlling. But that was on the heels of Jiffy’s abduction, so it wasn’t the best timing for his introduction to the Dale, Bella, and the rest of the crowd.
He is an affectionate father to Jiffy, though. That is the most important thing. And he and Misty do seem to love each other, though they have very little in common other than their son.
‘Is Mike here?’
‘No, I sent him a selfie. Anyway, I had a client on Thursday who couldn’t afford to pay me, so we arranged a barter. She’s the new stylist at Shear Magique.’
As with many businesses in the Dale, the local beauty parlor has a New Age twist. The front room is used for haircuts and salon treatments, the back for various forms of healing. Last time Bella visited for a simple trim, the stylist suggested that she update her look – ‘maybe some nice green streaks?’ When Bella declined, she was instead offered ‘energy work to pierce your hidden veil wall.’
‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ she’d said politely. ‘I prefer to keep my hidden veil wall intact.’ Whatever that means.
‘Hey, you should have your hair done like this, too, Bells! It really helps keep you cool in weather like this. Although the braids are a little tight. I’ve had a splitting headache all weekend,’ Misty adds, her voice raised above Jelly’s barking and Brian Wilson assuring them that everything will be all right.
‘Maybe you should turn that down,’ Bella suggests.
‘What?’
‘The music? It’s pretty loud.’
‘I know. WDOE is running all-day trivia contests with cash prizes. So far, I’ve called in a bunch of times, but someone always beats me to it. And it’s not fair, because who knows more about music than me, right? Well, Wolfman Jack does, but he’s been helping me with the answers.’
‘A wolfman is helping you?’
‘Wolfman Jack, Bells! You’ve never heard of him?’
‘Should I have?’
‘Well, he’s a famous DJ, but I guess it was before your time.’
And, it would seem, before Misty’s, since she’s five years younger.
‘Anyway, he’s been here all day.’
‘I didn’t realize you had company. I hope Max wasn’t a bother.’
‘Max is never a bother. He keeps Jiffy occupied. I kind of feel like I should be paying him,’ she adds with a chuckle. ‘And Wolfman Jack’s not company. He’s in Spirit.’
Ah. Bella probably should have guessed that.
‘Well, thanks for having Max, Misty. If you can just let him know I’m here, we’ll be on our way and let you get back to your contest and your, uh … Wolfman.’
‘No! You can’t go yet, Bells! I have to hear all about your trip. How was Chicago?’
‘Oh – it was great. Hot.’
‘It’s pretty hot here, too.’
‘Yeah, no kidding.’
‘Come on in for a minute and cool off. I’ve had the air conditioners running all day. We’ve got one in every room. Hugo Munson’ – the local electrician – ‘told me not to run them all at once. But it’s fine, as long as I remember not to turn on any appliances. I keep forgetting and blowing fuses.’
‘That’s not good, Misty.’
‘No biggie, I just go down and fix the circuit breaker in the basement,’ Misty says cheerfully. ‘Anyway, come on in.’
Bella hesitates. She really should get back to Valley View. Sweltering, stifling Valley View.
Giving in to temptation, she steps around the still-yapping puppy into the refreshing climate-controlled air. ‘OK, but only for a few minutes.’
Misty locks the door behind her. ‘You can’t be too careful, you know?’
Taken aback, Bella asks, ‘Misty, is everything—’
‘Jelly, shush! For Pete’s sake! It’s just Bells, not the burglar!’
The burglar?
As in the golden car?
‘Misty, why—’
‘Come on into the kitchen, Bells, so I can turn the music down, but please don’t judge. It’s a mess, and so are the boys – Max included. Sorry. We made snow cones.’
‘You made them?’ Bella follows her through the house, which is its usual cluttery disarray.
‘In the blender. Jiffy didn’t know it had a top, so when he pressed the button …’
Bella winces. ‘Uh-oh.’
‘Yeah. I’m still wiping the splatters off the ceiling. Although that blender blew a fuse, of course, and I saw some paint cans in the basement, so I might just cover the stains with that.’
‘Isn’t it easier just to clean the splatters?’
‘You’d think, but … I’ll show you. Anyway, I sent the boys upstairs to eat their snow cones. Well, they’re not really cones. We put them in paper cups.’
‘Misty—’
‘Did I ever tell you about the first time I met Mike? It was at the snow cone stand at an amusement park in Ohio. We were teenagers – kids, really. At that age, what do you know about anything, right? But I took one look at him and I said, this is the guy for me. I guess I shouldn’t have mentioned it to him on our first date, but you know me.’
Bella does know her, and her wistful tone is as out of character as the locked front door.
The messy kitchen is not, though this is above and beyond even for the Arden household. There are purple spatters on every surface, including – especially – the ceiling. A stepladder is open in the middle of the room, with a bucket and sponge precariously balanced on the top rung.
‘Want a snow cone?’ Misty asks, turning down the volume on the ancient radio plugged in on the counter alongside a blender filled with purple slush. ‘We used grape juice for the flavoring, but I’m going to make a new batch with Hawaiian Punch.’
‘Oh … no, thanks.’ Bella climbs a couple of steps on the ladder and moves the bucket to a more stable position. ‘Misty, why—’
‘Are you sure? You look super-hot, Bells.’
‘I’m positive. And I feel like you’re trying to avoid telling me why you’re suddenly locking your front door?’
‘Wow, Bells! I know I’ve asked you this before, but are you sure you’re not psychic?’
‘Not psychic.’ She descends the ladder, careful not to wobble and slosh. ‘I just pay attention to the details, and you said, “the burglar”. What’s going on?’
‘We had a theft. But I don’t want you to worry,’ Misty adds quickly.
Yeah, well, neither do the Beach Boys, but it can’t be helped.
‘Jiffy was afraid that if you knew, you wouldn’t let Max come over.’
‘Jiffy may have been right about that.’
‘But I mean, it’s not like we were held up at gunpoint or anything. We didn’t even know it happened until we realized some things were missing.’ She pours some melted snow cone into a paper cup, takes a sip, and offers it to Bella. ‘Here, try it.’
‘No, thanks. So someone broke into your house?’
‘Well … someone got in.’
‘Through the door? It wasn’t locked? Was this when you and Jiffy were home? Asleep?’
‘The answer to all of those questions is, I don’t know.’
Misty polishes off the melted snow cone, crumples the cup, tosses it toward the garbage can, and misses. She ignores it.
Remembering something, Bella says, ‘Pandora mentioned a break-in at the Slayton place.’
‘Really? I didn’t hear about that. What happened?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Bella had been much too caught up in debunking Pandora’s assumption that she and Drew had had a proper shag to ask questions about the Slayton incident. ‘Did you call the police, Misty?’
‘Not yet. I guess I should?’
‘Of course you should. Why wouldn’t you?’
‘Because … you know how Lieutenant Grange feels about us.’
Bella isn’t sure whether she’s referring to us, as in herself and Jiffy, or herself and Bella, or perhaps the whole of Lily Dale.
Most likely, it’s all of the above.
Lieutenant John Grange is always the first police officer on the scene of a crime in the Dale, and somehow, Bella always finds herself involved.
Only as a witness, of course. And she’s been far more help than hindrance when it comes to the investigations – which may be why the territorial, egotistical Grange doesn’t always come across as an ally. Not because he’s suspicious of her, but because he’s jealous.
‘Do you think this happened today, Misty? Or sometime yesterday, or last night?’
‘I’m not sure. We didn’t realize anything was even missing until this morning, but it might have been longer. I’ve been meditating on it, asking Spirit to shed some light, but so far, I’ve gotten nothing.’
A police investigation would likely shed more light, but before Bella can urge her to call, Misty goes on, ‘I think the energy is blocked because I’ve been so emotional lately, with everything that’s going on with Mike. That can happen. I’m—’
Jelly bounds over with a shoe in his mouth.
‘Jelly! No!’ Misty stoops to wrestle it from his jaws. ‘He keeps doing this!’
‘Wanting to play?’
‘Eating shoes. I did exactly what Drew told me to do – I sprayed an old sneaker with chew deterrent and let him taste it so that he’d be turned off.’
‘It didn’t work?’
‘He liked it!’ She looks around the cluttered surfaces for a place to put the shoe and shoves it into a cupboard. ‘Crazy dog. He gets into everything! Drew says it’s normal, but let me tell you, Bells, if shoes were the only things that went missing around here, I wouldn’t be thinking we’d been robbed by anyone other than Jelly. Oh! Shh! Listen!’
The Beach Boys song has given way to an announcer.
‘ … and the prize will go to the first caller who can tell me how many number one singles the Beach Boys had, and we’ll double your winnings if you can name them all. We’ll be back with our winner after this word from our sponsor.’
Misty grabs her phone, hits redial, and addresses the empty air over her shoulder. ‘How many, Jack? Four? OK, what are they? Oh, no, it’s busy.’ She hangs up and hits redial again. ‘Yes, Jack, I’ve got it. “Help Me, Rhonda”, “Good Vibrations”, “I Get Around”, and “Kokomo”! Darn, still busy!’
She hits redial again, and again, until the DJ returns to the air to announce a winner who isn’t Misty.
‘This stinks.’ She tosses her phone aside. ‘I really need to win enough to get Jiffy a new scooter.’
‘That’s why you’re doing this?’
‘Yes, his was stolen.’
‘Are you sure he didn’t leave it somewhere again? You know how he’s always losing things. Just this morning he was telling Max about a video game he’d misplaced.’
‘No, the scooter was definitely stolen, because they took other stuff. You know that pink vase that was on the mantel in the living room? Gone.’
‘Was it valuable?’
‘Are you kidding? It was from the dollar store. Ugliest thing you ever saw. I hated it. I bought it as a White Elephant gift for a Christmas party, only then Jiffy went missing and I didn’t go to the party. Every time I look at it, I think of that.’
‘Why did you keep it?’
‘I keep everything,’ she says with a shrug.
‘What else was stolen?’
‘That jigsaw puzzle Jiffy’s been working on all summer.’
‘Wait … you mean it wasn’t in the box?’
‘It was on the table. So was the box. They took that, too.’
‘But … are you saying they actually picked up all the pieces of a half-finished puzzle and stole them?’
‘It wasn’t half-finished. It was pretty much done, but you can’t solve a puzzle without all the pieces, and Jelly ate a couple that fell on the floor. Just gobbled them up before we could stop him.’
‘Wow. I guess you really do keep everything,’ Bella says, wheels turning. ‘So they stole the scooter, a vase you hated, and a puzzle with missing pieces. Is that all?’
‘I think so. I have some cash stashed away from my readings, but they didn’t take that. I even counted it, and it’s all there.’
‘Where do you keep it?’
Misty points to the little shelf built into the corner between the window frame above the sink, and the adjacent cabinet. It holds a couple of knick-knacks, the biggest bottle of ibuprofen Bella has ever seen, and a prominently displayed glass jar full of cash.
‘Wow,’ Bella says. ‘It’s kind of hard to miss.’
‘Well, so is my wedding ring. It’s sitting right out in the open on my bureau, but they didn’t take that, either.’
‘Then they must have been here during the day, when you had it on,’ Bella reasons, glancing at Misty’s left hand. The fourth finger is bare.
She makes it into a fist and tucks it under her right arm. ‘I haven’t been wearing it lately, Bells. Mike and I … we aren’t going to make it.’
‘Oh, Misty. I’m so sorry.’
Bella sees that she’s trembling.
Most of the time, Misty reminds her of a high school friend – breezy and exuberant, speaking her mind without a filter.
But in moments like this, Bella grasps that she’s an old soul. Certainly her tattoos bear testimony to a whole lot of hard living – and pain – in her twenty-six years.
Her father’s initials and birth and death dates are on her right arm. She’d lost him when she was Jiffy’s age – her first paranormal experience, she’d told Bella.
‘He came to say goodbye in the middle of the night. He told me he could do more good for me on the Other Side than he ever had on the earthly plane. He drank himself to death because he couldn’t deal with seeing apparitions and hearing voices,’ she’d added in her frank way. ‘I was headed down the same path for a while, but Spirit saved me.’
Bella prefers to think that Misty saved herself – and that she’ll manage to do the same for her marriage. A recent inked addition to her bare right foot reads ‘one step at a time’, along with a triangle symbolizing her own hard-won sobriety.
‘Mike won’t come here,’ she tells Bella. ‘He wants to live in Pennsylvania, near his family. He says we can make a fresh start on neutral ground, but how is his hometown neutral? It isn’t, you know? It’s his place.’
‘That’s true. And Lily Dale is yours.’
‘And Jiffy’s. That matters more than what Mike and I want, doesn’t it?’
‘It does, but kids are pretty adaptable.’
‘That’s not the point. When we lived on the base in Arizona, nobody understood Jiffy. Teachers, the other kids, their parents … everyone thought something was wrong with a boy who sees and hears things they can’t see. Not here, though. Here, everyone gets it. Even you.’
‘Um … thanks?’
‘I don’t mean it in a bad way, Bells. Just that you don’t do what we do – or maybe I should say you won’t do what we do – but you accept us nonetheless.’
‘Of course I do.’
‘And that’s why I love you.’ Misty smiles and heaves a shaky sigh. ‘I’m not leaving. I came here because I wanted Jiffy to grow up among people who understand what it’s like to see dead people. And for me, too. I’ll admit it. This isn’t just my home, it’s my livelihood. Where else would I be able to provide for my son and practice my mediumship skills for the greater good? That’s what I’ve been doing this summer, and it’s been amazing.’
Bella weighs her response before saying, ‘Is there a way you and Mike can reach some sort of compromise? Maybe he’d agree to stay here in the summers, and you can spend the rest of the time in Pennsylvania?’
‘Summer is only two months long!’
‘But it’s when you earn the bulk of your income, isn’t it?’
‘How would that be fair? I get two months here, while Mike gets ten months where he wants us to be?’
She sounds like a petulant child, but there are tears in her eyes, and Bella can’t decide whether to hug her, or try to make her see both sides of the dilemma.
‘Plus, Jiffy would have to go to a different school, away from Max, with a bunch of strangers who think he’s weird? He’d be ostracized, the way I was? No. No way. He’s my kid. I can’t do that to him.’
‘But Misty, he’s Mike’s kid, too.’
‘Wow. Whose side are you on?’
‘I’m on your side, Misty. Always. Yours, and Jiffy’s. I just hope you haven’t given up without doing everything in your power to save your marriage.’
‘I’m not the one who’s given up. Mike’s chosen to be deployed for our entire marriage. It’s just me and Jiffy, day in and day out. Do you know how hard it is to …’ She catches herself. ‘I’m sorry. I know you know. You know in the worst way.’
‘I do.’
‘I’m so sorry. Don’t hate me.’
‘I could never hate you. Does Jiffy know what’s going on? That you and Mike aren’t …’
‘No. We need to sit him down and tell him together.’
Bella nods, refusing to allow herself to dwell on that looming conversation, and the impact it will have on Jiffy.
‘Misty … getting back to the theft … is there any chance it might have been staged?’
‘Staged! What do you mean?’
‘Did Jiffy know you didn’t like that pink vase?’
‘Oh, yes. He and I both thought it was hideous.’ Her eyes widen. ‘You think he did this?’
‘Pandora said she heard through the grapevine about the break-in at the Slaytons’, so maybe Jiffy did, too. Maybe he thought you’d buy him a new scooter if you thought his had been stolen, and he’s smart enough to know it would look suspicious if that was the only thing missing. He knew you wouldn’t miss the vase …’ Bella shrugs.
‘That little stinker.’ She jerks the radio knob, silencing it. ‘Here I am spending my whole afternoon trying to win a stupid trivia contest, when he—’
‘We don’t know it for sure, Misty. I’m just thinking … maybe he left it somewhere again, and he didn’t want to get into trouble.’
She steps into the hall and yells, ‘Jiffy! Come down here, please! Jiffy! Right this instant!’
Bella follows her to the foot of the stairs, trailed by Jelly.
Overhead, a door creaks open. ‘Mom? Did you call me?’
‘I did. Come here.’
Jiffy appears at the top of the stairs. He’s barefoot and covered in purple stains, including on his upper lip. ‘Do you need me to finish up the extra snow cones? Because they were very delicious.’
‘No, I need to speak with you.’
‘Be right back.’ Jiffy disappears, and Bella hears him say in an audible whisper, ‘Hey, Max! You need to come with me.’
‘How come?’
‘Because she won’t yell at me in front of company.’
‘OK. What’d you do?’
‘I’m not sure which thing it is.’
‘How many things are there?’
‘Two or three. Oh, wait, maybe … about seven. Or ten.’
‘Jiffy!’ Misty shakes her head and thrums her fingertips on the newel post. ‘I’m waiting.’
‘I’m coming!’
A moment later, he reappears at the top of the stairs with a reluctant-looking Max in tow. He, too, is juice-stained and juice-mustached.
‘Hi, Mom!’
‘Hi, Bella!’
‘Hi, boys.’
‘Come on down,’ Misty says. ‘I need to ask you a question.’
Jiffy descends slowly, jumping down each step with a floppy thump. ‘Is the question about making more snow cones? Or about me and Max having a very fun sleepover here tonight?’
‘Not tonight,’ Bella says. ‘The puppies are only at our house until tomorrow, and I know you don’t want to miss that, Max.’
‘Can me and Jiffy have a sleepover at our house, Mom?’ He’s imitating Jiffy’s stair jumps, more cautiously, holding tightly to the banister and watching his feet.
‘That’s up to Jiffy and his mom.’
‘We’ll see,’ Misty says.
‘By the way, do you have air conditioners yet, Bella?’
‘Not yet,’ she tells Jiffy, who has arrived at the foot of the stairs.
‘We’ll talk about that after I talk to you about something else,’ Misty says.
‘Both of us?’
‘Just you. Max has an alibi since he was out of town this weekend.’
‘I do?’ Max pauses on the step and looks up with interest. ‘By the way, what’s an alibi?’
‘It’s when you’re in another place so you couldn’t have been in the place where something happened,’ Bella says quickly.
‘Something good, or something bad?’
‘Something bad,’ Jiffy says. ‘Because that’s the only reason you want people to know you weren’t there. I’ve got a lot of alibis, too.’
‘You don’t even know what we’re going to discuss,’ Misty says, looking amused.
He shrugs. ‘Whatever it is, I know I’ve got one.’
‘Except not for the blender mess,’ Max says. ‘You were there. I saw you turn it on. And it squirted all over everything, and the lights went out!’
‘Shh, Max, let’s get going home and let Misty and Jiffy talk,’ Bella says.
‘But what about—’
‘Come on, kiddo. Let’s go. What do you say to Misty?’
‘Thank you for having me,’ Max says politely.
‘Any time, Max.’ She shifts her gaze to Bella. ‘Thanks, Bells. I’ll text you later with an update.’
‘Good luck!’
‘Good luck with what?’ Max asks as they step out into the steamy sunshine.
‘Misty’s just wondering what happened to a few things that are missing.’
‘You mean Jiffy’s scooter and that vase she hates, and the puzzle Jelly thought was treats?’
‘Yes. Do you know anything about them, Max?’
‘Uh-huh. Some robbers came in and stole them.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘Jiffy. He said they were really bad guys.’
‘What else did he say?’
‘He thinks you should let me keep one of the puppies. Then Jelly will have a best friend, too.’
Bella sighs, remembering what lies in store for Jiffy. Even if he remains in the Dale with Misty, he’s going to be devastated by his parents’ looming separation.
‘You and Jiffy are lucky to have each other, Max. I’m glad you’re always such a good friend to him. That’s important.’
‘Yup. Can I keep—’
‘What game do you think we should play with the puppies when we get home?’ Bella asks.
Max has plenty of ideas, as she expected.
Together, they walk on toward Valley View, unaware that they’re being watched from the shadows in the park.