TWENTY-SIX

“RAY ANNE,” I whispered. I was dying to kiss her. So why couldn’t I make my move? She kept pressing on the back of my neck, miraculously inviting me to go for it.

But could I? Could I be the one to crush her lifelong dream of waiting for a wedding-day kiss? I’d always thought it was a ridiculous, incredibly unrealistic commitment. But it had always been so heartfelt. So Ray Anne.

Her eyelids drifted closed again, and she left them that way, allowing her lips to part, practically begging me to take them. She uttered my name, both syllables heavy with yearning. I kept my eyes open, anticipating the look on her face as I introduced her to a taste of the passion she’d never once allowed herself to drink. Not even a small sip.

One tilt of my neck, and her lips were mine. Maybe her body, too.

Mine to steal.

In her moment of weakness.

I . . . I’m not supposed to do this.

My whole body tensed like hardening cement as I willed myself to pull my head away from hers. My fingers folded into fists. It was like trying to bring a high-speed train to a screeching stop.

I finally managed to turn my face. I let out a miserable groan.

She sat up fast and faced me on the bench. “Owen, I . . . I’m so sorry.”

I didn’t look at her —not because I was angry but because I didn’t trust myself to resist leaning in a second time and taking what I wanted after all.

Ray Anne covered her face. “You could have gotten away with that. I wanted you to.”

“I wanted to just as much.”

She faced me, eyes pooling. “So why didn’t you?”

I wasn’t trying to be romantic —my body was just so deflated by the experience that I lowered to one knee in front of her. “Because, Ray Anne.” I gripped her hands. “I care more about you than myself.”

Finally, I’d proven it —to her and to myself.

She pulled my head to her shoulder and nestled her chin in my hair. I couldn’t be sure, but I think she cried a little. There wasn’t much to say after that —in a good way, I mean. It had been an intense, stressful situation —a series of stressful situations, to be honest —but it felt like things were finally getting back on track between us. Like we both wanted to be together.

I drove Ray Anne home, and as the sun set over her driveway, I promised her I’d be back from Tulsa in three days, on Wednesday.

It only took a few clicks on my cell to buy my plane tickets. By the next afternoon, I’d walked Daisy to the pet boarding place and was packed to catch my 7:40 p.m. flight.

I was zipping my suitcase when I heard a knock at the door. A glance through the peephole revealed Veronica, sniffling and crying. I stepped out onto the balcony and asked her what was wrong.

“A student in my program went missing yesterday.”

“Another one?”

She reached out and held my hand —she was so upset, I let her. “I just left the police station. I told them everything I could think of.”

“Who’s the student?”

“I think you know her.” She nibbled her bottom lip like she was nervous to tell me. “Riley. Haven’t you been tutoring her?”

No way. Surely I’d heard wrong.

Veronica forced a hug on me, crying again. “We have to find her, Owen.”

Believe me, I wanted to. But I was about to board a plane. Could there have been a worse time for me to go? “I’ll help search for her, I promise. The second I get back.”

She let go of me and eyed my suitcase behind me, in the living room. “You can’t leave. You and I are the only ones who can find her, if we work together.”

“What are you talking about?”

She slipped her fingers between mine. “Few people have the spiritual sensitivity we do.” She stepped inside my apartment uninvited and pulled me in. “Let’s combine our strength to get answers. Ask the Source to reveal where she is.”

The Source . . .

I couldn’t believe she’d just said that. “Where’d you hear that term?”

She used the bottom of her thin hot-pink T-shirt to swipe tears off her chin. Her waterlogged eyes looked even greener. “My meditation books. Why?”

I shook my head, unwilling to get into it with her.

“Come on.” She lowered to her knees and tried to pull me to the rug with her. “Let’s clear our minds and ask the Source to let us see through Riley’s eyes. Did you know we can do that?”

“Veronica, I’m not doing anything like that here.” I turned and opened the door wide, ready for her to leave.

She stood and came close. “It doesn’t have to be here. Come to the woods with me. I’ll show you what to do.”

I huffed. “Stay out of those woods. It’s private property. And so is my mind, so don’t go there either.” I escorted her out of my apartment, bulky chains and all, and made myself clear. “It’s devastating that Riley’s missing. But tapping into evil powers isn’t the answer.”

She winced like I’d genuinely wounded her. “I would never do anything evil.”

Her pouty face struck me as childlike. Innocent, even. I actually felt kind of sorry for her. She was drowning in deception —like me, until a few days ago. I stood there wrestling over whether it was my responsibility to say something or not. Finally, I told her, “Veronica, anything spiritual that doesn’t involve God is a gateway to evil. That’s why he forbids it.”

I can’t recall what she said at that point. I was too lost in the epiphany of what had just flowed from my mouth. It’s one thing to have a thought dawn on you; this was way more than that. It was like a light had just switched on in my soul, illuminating truth.

All this time, I’d mistaken biblical instructions for restrictive, useless rules and fought them like captors. But I’d been wrong.

About a lot of things, I now realized.

By the time I snapped out of it and focused on the beautiful but bound woman in front of me, she was working to worm her way inside my apartment all over again. Had I not planted myself on the threshold of my door, I have no doubt she would have.

“Wherever you’re going, Owen, please don’t leave —not now. We need you here.” She blinked fast, batting her long eyelashes. “I need you.”

Her plea struck me as confirmation that I was definitely supposed to take this trip.

“I can’t give you what you’re looking for,” I told her. “And I have to go.” I told her bye and shut the door.

Once I figured the stairwell and parking lot were clear of her, I used an app to arrange for transportation to the airport. On my way out the door, I called my mom to let her know I was going. She got weepy, but even before that, she sounded weak. She assured me Dr. Bradford was taking good care of her, which didn’t bring me any comfort at all.

As I waited at the bottom of the stairwell for my ride, I could smell Demise but didn’t see the one-handed stalker. I had bigger concerns, though. I was deeply worried about Riley and still in shock that my father had been found. I stared out into the field where Custos had been. Nothing but grass out there today.

Please, God, rescue Riley. Bring her home.

I noticed someone speed walking down the sidewalk toward me, dressed in black skinny-style slacks, her high heels tapping the cement like impatient snaps. I did a double take. It was the irritating reporter lady from TV. I still couldn’t believe that she was a Light.

“Owen Edmonds?” I nodded, and she shoved her cell phone in my face in voice recorder mode, then talked annoyingly fast. “I’m Elle Adelle with Channel Two.”

Her name had always sounded fake to me.

“It’s my understanding you know Riley Jenson,” she said. “Can you tell me, when was the last time you saw her?”

Ah. A nosy interview. No, thank you.

She repeated the question, even more forcefully.

When I still didn’t answer, she huffed like she didn’t like me, either. “We’re trying to find her —don’t you want to help?”

“Absolutely. I’ll assist detectives however I can.”

She smirked. “I’m the best detective in this town.”

Whatever.

She wasn’t lowering her cell from my chin. I crossed my arms and decided to put her in the hot seat for a change. “What’s your theory about the abductions? Gang activity?”

Elle rolled her eyes and finally dumped her cell phone in her purse. “Of all people, I thought you might have a clue.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She puckered her peach-colored lips and raised one eyebrow like I was dumb. “You’re a fourth-generation Caldwell. The sole heir to that land.”

Okay, so she did have at least some investigative skills. “And?” I said.

“Do you know anything about your family’s history? About that property of yours?”

I could see Demise in my peripheral vision now, but I didn’t let it derail me. “As a matter of fact, I do.” An unwelcome sense of shame gripped me. “Look, I’m not proud of all the slavery and stuff my ancestors did out there, but that wasn’t me. And it was a long time ago.”

She closed her eyes and rubbed back and forth on her forehead like she was beyond annoyed with me, her other hand balled and pressed on her hip.

I threw my hands up. “What?”

She tilted her head to the side and blinked fast. “Sacred grounds. Dominant bloodlines. Unorthodox holidays. None of that means anything to you?”

My blank expression said it all.

She scanned the parking lot as if there was a chance we weren’t alone. “If you’re as uninformed as you claim, you might as well stay that way.” She turned her back on me and started walking off. “It may save your life.”

Excuse me?

I hurried and stood in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. “Look, Elle, I get that there’s some weird annoyance vibe between us, but all I’ve done for what seems like forever is try to figure out the story of my ancestors and that land and how to turn things around in this town, so if you happen to know something I don’t, I need you to tell me.” I stepped closer. “I can assure you, I know things you can’t possibly know.”

She huffed. “I seriously doubt that.”

Man, this woman’s personality was grating. But I had to get past that. My eyes dipped to our golden auras on the pavement. “Believe it or not, you and I are on the same team.”

“I work alone.” She sidestepped me as my ride pulled up.

“’Cause you can’t get along with anybody —am I right?” I followed after her.

She stopped beside her black Audi. “Because I don’t trust anyone in this town.”

Well, that was a fair answer. I had a small but growing appreciation for this aggravating lady and wanted to hear more from her. “You can trust me.” I held out my palm for a handshake. “How about we start over, politely this time?”

She dug through her purse and slapped her business card in my hand. “Call me if you’re willing to talk about Riley.” She slid behind the wheel of her car. My driver laid on his horn.

“I’ll be in touch,” I said.

She closed her door in my face but then lowered her dark-tinted window and handed me a white plastic square. Some sort of press badge . . . with my picture and name on it.

“Um . . . what’s this? How . . . ? Why?” I was stammering now.

Elle rolled her eyes so hard I thought she might actually hurt herself. “If you expect to see your father, you’re going to need that.”

What? She seemed more like a spy now than a news reporter. “How do you know about that? My personal life is none of your business.”

“I make things my business.” She started her car and put it in reverse. “It’s necessary as I work to uncover and mend things around here.”

Okay, fine. But did she have to get that into my business? And what had she ever done to mend things in Masonville?

She drove off, and I studied the press badge —the less-than-flattering picture of me she’d obviously swiped off social media.

Was anyone else’s life as weird as mine?

As I loaded my small suitcase into the idling sedan, I wondered if a short escape from the tragedies and strangeness of Masonville might do me some good.

I arrived at Masonville’s miniature airport with plenty of time to spare. It had crossed my mind that it might be interesting to see what, if anything, goes on in the spirit world at around 35,000 feet above ground.

Let’s just say I’d seriously underestimated the experience.