Libby ran her palms through the air over her client's body, as if smoothing a sheet but never making contact. With eyes closed, Bert lay on his back, outstretched on the flat surface of a massage table. Libby made several passes before finishing the session.
When she placed her hand on his shoulder and whispered she was finished, he opened his eyes and sighed. "That was wonderful, Libby."
She slipped into the bathroom and rinsed her hands in the cool, purifying water. When she returned, Bert had turned onto his side.
"You're a jewel," he said.
At her desk she made a few notes while he attempted to sit up. "Don't get up too fast." She handed him a glass of water. "How's the knee?"
He edged off the table and distributed his weight on one foot, then the other. "Gone. I think it's gone. How do you do that?"
"I don't do anything," she said. "I'm just a channel for the healing energy that comes through."
"I don't know about any channel, but I'd say you're an angel."
Libby shook her head. "Oh, Bert."
"How much do I owe you?"
"You know the routine."
"Donations don't keep you in food and wine, dear. Why don't you let me take you out to dinner? Since my knees are better, we could go dancing and have a gay old time."
"Now, Bert, you know I don't date clients." She laced an arm around his and escorted him from the room.
"Oh, hell, Libby, for once in your life break a rule."
"You sound like my girlfriend."
"Well?"
"You're old enough to be my grandfather."
"I can still make a woman smile." He winked.
When they reached the door, Libby gave him a peck on the cheek. "Stay well, Bert."
"I'll be back."
"Drive carefully. And thanks for the fresh eggs."
Though the energy work relieved Bert's chronic pain for several weeks, it hadn't healed it completely, and she could count on his return. He liked being around her, and she often wondered if the pain was less severe than he professed it to be.
As a rule, she charged for her services, but Bert was a family friend and had recently turned eighty. She wanted to help him however she could. The healing sessions fit the bill.
She wiped the sweat from her brow. The work always heated her, plus the weather had shifted, and today promised to be a scorcher, with no cool breeze for relief. She changed into shorts and a summer top and welcomed the rest of the day to herself.
On Monday she'd had several readings, and she'd blocked out the time after Bert's appointment. She would have plodded ahead, but an inner prompting had directed her to take the afternoon off. Ellen was in town running errands, leaving Libby alone.
She lay on her bed and propped a pillow behind her head. The moment she opened the novel she had been longing to read, the doorbell rang and rang again. She wondered if Ellen had locked herself out, but the time indicated it was too soon for Ellen's return.
Annoyed by the interruption, she marched into the living room, prepared to fend off a solicitor. She swung the door open, and Kipp greeted her with a scowl that could have knocked her flat. His energy was that intense.
"We need to talk," he said.
He'd surprised her, and the only thought that came to mind was the last thing he'd mentioned when he dropped her off from the airport. "About dinner?"
"This is not about dinner. Can I come in?"
He grabbed hold of the screen handle, but Libby stood her ground. "Normally, people are considerate enough to make an appointment."
"I was going to call, but I didn't." He rubbed the stubble on his chin. "This is important. We have to talk."
Libby read the confusion behind the anger and stepped away from the door. He declined any refreshment, and they went straight to her office. She wished she'd had time to change into something less revealing because he seemed preoccupied with her appearance, eyeballing her without saying a word.
"Well, did you have something to say to me?"
"Right." His eyes pierced hers with a showdown stare. "I don't know what kind of witchcraft you subscribe to, but whatever it is, I wish you'd back off."
Libby's head lurched backward. "What are you talking about?"
"You're making things happen. Strange things. Things are appearing in my bedroom, and I want it stopped."
"What things?"
"Things," he said. "Ghosts."
"Why don't you sit down and explain to me what's been going on, so I can help you."
"You don't know?"
"I have an idea. I suspect you're opening up."
"Opening up? What the hell does that mean?"
"Please sit down and give me the details."
"I'd rather stand."
"Suit yourself."
Kipp described the experience of the last two nights, including waking up in cold sweats and seeing what he thought were ghosts, glimpses of a little girl. When he finished talking, Libby reached out to touch his arm, but he withdrew.
"Kipp, this is happening to you because you are opening to it. It's the right time. Messages need to come through. I have a feeling about this, but I need your permission to tune in to your energy field."
"Like you did last time I was here? I don't think so."
"Please, I just need to get a picture of what's going on. I won't scare you. I'll only relay what your guides want you to know. I think it will help."
"What guides? What kind of garbage are you feeding me now?"
"Listen to me," she said. "We all have guidance from the other side. Sometimes it's from people we know, perhaps a grandparent. And you're familiar with guardian angels, beings that watch over us?"
"That's all hocus-pocus."
"Angels are with us all the time. They protect us. They serve as messengers of Spirit. They're here to keep us safe on our path."
"That's crap."
"It's the truth," she said. "Haven't you ever had the experience of getting a strong feeling you should avoid something, like going down a certain road, but when you don't heed that feeling, you either get in an accident or there's a long delay? Or the opposite. You do avoid the road, and you hear later that something bad happened there."
"Maybe."
"We all get strong feelings, and we don't know where they come from. Coincidences happen that we can't explain. We have help, otherworldly help."
Kipp dropped his gaze and picked at his nails.
"I can't make you believe it. You'll have to trust me. I can help you."
With everything that had transpired in the last few weeks--the visions, the strong feelings associated with Kipp, his appearances on her doorstep--the reason for all this was close at hand. Determined to keep him here until she found out the truth of the matter, she laid a hand on his arm, calming him.
"What can you do?" His tone was softer, less hostile now.
"I'll ask your guides why this is happening and what you need to know. Trust me."
The silence between them could have been counted in hours, not minutes. Libby studied him. By the way his brows knitted together, his eyes searched the floor, and one hand was massaging the other, she could tell he was agonizing over letting her into his world again, a difficult decision for him.
Finally, his willing eyes met hers, and he sat in the recliner. "But I'm not convinced this will help."
Libby assured him it couldn't hurt and instructed him to lean back in the chair and take several deep breaths. She sat near her desk, synchronized her breathing with his, and prepared to enter a different reality. Her eyelids drifted shut.
Silently, she prayed for the love and protection to increase around them and asked to receive information about Kipp's experience. She waited for the information to come into her field, and in a matter of minutes opened her eyes and said, "These occurrences definitely have to do with the loss of a child. Your guides are trying to get your attention."
"But why?"
Knowing Kipp's reluctance to move ahead with this, she remained cautious. "Do I have your permission to delve deeper?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'd like to understand the circumstances surrounding the loss."
"I can tell you that."
"Would you?"
"I would, but it's painful."
"Can you tell me in general terms? The feeling I got last time you were here was that the child was taken away from you somehow and--"
"She was kidnapped. Is that what you wanted to know? Now you know." He brought his fist to his mouth to hold his emotions in check.
"I'm so sorry." For a moment she could feel his pain, as if it were her own, and her whole body ached with remorse. "Let me give you the information I feel needs to come through concerning this."
"You've already opened up the wound. Do you want to rub salt in it?" Kipp stood. "I don't need to be reminded she's gone. I live it every day."
"Kipp, listen to me. I want you to sit down and let me bring this information through. It needs to be said."
She was so emphatic Kipp eased into the chair.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, listening for the words and symbols to come through. "I feel you have been looking for this child a long time, but I see many paths and many roadblocks. You haven't been able to find her, but a new path is opening up to you."
Libby's eyelids fluttered open and she stared at Kipp. "These impressions are coming to you because your guides are trying to get your attention."
"They're doing a good job of it."
"They want you to try again. They want you to look for her again. What have you done so far?"
"This is ridiculous. I've done everything I can. The FBI. The police. I even hired a private investigator. She's on the registry for missing kids. There are nothing but dead ends."
"How long has she been gone?"
"Two years."
"Well, I'm sensing you need to start again. Not the authorities. You."
"Me." He shook his head, looked down at his hands. "I can't do it." He paused, then met Libby's gaze. "I was finally coming to grips with the fact we'd never find her. I was beginning to accept it. I don't know if I can go through the pain of rehashing everything and not finding her." He raised a hand, shielding his eyes.
Libby didn't know why he was being prodded to retrace his steps, but she trusted the source of these urgings. "All I can tell you is that having those impressions and being led to me wouldn't have happened unless it was important. You are being led to do this."
Kipp looked up, his eyes tearful. "I don't want to get my hopes up. It's too risky."
"Everything good in life is risky. Don't let this opportunity go." She handed him a tissue.
He paused, deep in thought. "I don't know if I can go through this again."
"I understand, and I wouldn't want to push you. Why don't you go home and sleep on it. If you decide to come back, you can ask me whatever you want, and we'll see where it leads."
Kipp struggled to his feet. Libby led him down the hallway to the front door. In the sunlight he looked worse than when he'd arrived--dark circles around his eyes, his face pale and strained.
Her heart went out to him, and she wrapped him in a caring embrace. He lowered his head on her shoulder, his arms limp at his sides. She sensed a heaviness deep within.
She patted his back and told him to think about everything that had been said. He gave her a drooping smile and turned to leave. She watched his car lumber down the road.
* * *