CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Amanda peered out the exit to the House of Mirrors. To her horror, the exit was a gigantic clown’s mouth. In the monsoon, she hadn’t noticed. With the rain now a fine mist, she cringed as she pressed her hand against dark crimson lips of a creepy clown.

“Let’s hurry back to the car.”

Jake scanned the clouds, the park surroundings. “We should return to the library, research that lawsuit Mary told us about.”

Amanda’s breath caught in her throat. The library? Where her aunt Anzhela had appeared last time, unnerving her as always with tidbits of wisdom about self-acceptance?

“I’m sure the Internet will have some info. Why don’t we head over to the Abandon Inn?”

He stepped out into the gray misty air. “C’mon. We didn’t come here to spend all our time at the hotel.”

“But you’re fine spending it at the library?”

The second the words left her lips, she knew how idiotic she sounded. But what other way could she prevent them from returning? That was one trait about Jake—once he had his mind made up, he became the stubborn one.

“What is it with you and the library?” he asked, holding out his hands to check the rain. “C’mon. It’s fine.”

She stepped out, escaping the clown’s mouth only get into Jake’s car and head to another uncomfortable place—the library.

Ten minutes later, dreading what might be inside, she asked, “Where should we search for the lawsuit records? They have the Internet in libraries—”

“They also have librarians,” he said with a smile.

“Right.” Like there was any chance she could forget such a fact. Okay. Deep breath.

He pulled open the library door and held it for her. She walked inside and immediately scanned the room to see if Aunt Anzhela was nearby. Nothing so far, just a gray-haired woman behind the desk. Maybe Aunt Anzhela wasn’t around today?

“It’s a new woman,” Jake whispered. “I’m sure she can help us though.”

Amanda followed his beeline sprint to the desk. While he asked where lawsuit and local legal notices would be kept, she scanned the back area to check for signs of anyone else. The graying woman appeared to be the only one there. Whew.

“Right over there against the wall, sir,” the librarian said with a pointing wrinkled finger.

“Thanks, ma’am.” Jake turned to Amanda and beamed. “Let’s go check it out.”

Each time she passed a bookshelf with no sign of her aunt, she felt like she’d accomplished something major. Like getting a first down at a football game. Not down the field yet, but there was hope. There was always—

“Hello there. I see y’all have returned.”

Crap.

Jake paused in his trek and smiled. “Nice to see you again, ma’am. I was expecting to find you at the front desk.”

Amanda stared at her feet. She knew her aunt’s voice. She’d sung lullabies to Amanda as a child. She’d prodded her niece to acknowledge her gift. She wouldn’t leave Amanda alone about telling Jake the truth… Oh yes, her voice was annoyingly familiar.

“Thank you, young man,” Anzhela said. “And your lady friend is with you today too.”

Jake bumped Amanda’s elbow, urging her to say hello. Like a kid prodded to say thank you and please.

“Hi,” Amanda said with a knowing glance. Why are you here?

Able to decipher any cryptic message, Anzhela casually mentioned, “They have me at the legal desk today so Rosella could be up front. Anything in particular you two are looking for?”

“The lawsuit that Randall Kern filed against Bello and Toale,” Amanda said. “I think the man is guilty of sabotaging the roller coaster that killed those people.”

“Amanda!” Jake said, eyes narrowed. His judging tone didn’t even register on her emotional meter. Right now she only hoped her aunt wouldn’t spill the beans about their family.

“What? I think the man has something to hide.”

With a quick glare, Jake turned to her aunt. “Ma’am, I’m sorry for my friend here and her superstitions. We simply want to do research.”

“You know what they say,” Anzhela said. “Superstitions got their origins from a kernel of truth.”

“Be that as it may, can we see the file?” Amanda said. Be quiet, Aunt Anzhela. Don’t ruin things for me and Jake.

Anzhela reached out and tied the blue scarf around her auburn curls tighter. “To answer your question, however, those legal papers are right here.” She handed him a file folder about three inches thick. The papers were barely holding on to the metal clips that bound them to the file. “I found quite a bit more information after your last visit that I thought you might find helpful.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of info,” Jake said.

“Yes. Quite the big case here in Abandon many years ago.”

Her aunt shot Amanda a discerning glance.

“Yes,” Amanda said. “Jake, why don’t you start in on the file? I’ll see if there are more legal notices here.” That was pretty flimsy, as that file was thick, and she didn’t even know what was in it. But he fell for it.

His eyes were already gleaming from the analysis work to be done on the files. An engineer in hog heaven. Analyzing something from every angle. That would at least keep him busy.

When he pulled out a chair at a far wall table, Amanda turned to her aunt. “What are you doing? Keeping tabs on me?”

Anzhela only glanced up with those big and knowing eyes. “Someone needs to, dear.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I need you to keep your mouth shut where Jake is concerned. He doesn’t understand gifts like we have. His mother was schizophrenic. I don’t want him to continue to think I am mentally ill.”

“There’s a difference between the mind being ill and the mind using the talents given to it,” she said. “Until you tell him, he’s falling in love with a facade.”

Amanda’s face flushed hot. “You think he’s falling in love with me?”

With a stern cocked eyebrow mastered over the years, Anzhela said, “Yes. You need to make sure you put your gifts and talents to good use. That comes first, before your supposed love interest.”

Supposed? Amanda clenched her fists into tiny balls. “Is that why you sent Declan to bother me? To insist I help spirits who have nothing to do with my life?”

Anzhela smiled. “I don’t send Declan anywhere. He reports to forces higher than me.”

What higher forces? She wondered for a minute before responding.

“He keeps quoting the same old lines you do.”

“Maybe you should take the hints the Universe is giving you.” Anzhela lowered her voice. “Do you know how complex some of my situations were when I was a girl? At least your boyfriend has a similar interest in finding out what happened to those people. You can tag along and do this job for Declan in your sleep.”

“I need to focus on my work.”

“Yes, you do.”

Groaning, Amanda said, “No, I didn’t mean supernatural work. I meant my carousel work. That apprenticeship is the chance for me to get an artistic career—my dream. Right now I’m a glorified secretary, and I hate it.”

“Yes.” Her aunt’s Southern drawl gave the one-syllable word at least three. “Isn’t it interesting that doing something you love often fits with what you’re meant to do?”

“Argh! You’re impossible.” Amanda turned, looking at Jake to make sure he didn’t have eavesdropping radar.

“Listen to me,” Anzhela said. “Our gifted kind doesn’t get the luxury of saying no to those beings who need us. We were blessed with these talents for a reason. Whether you accept yourself and your gift is up to you, but you can’t turn your back on your duty to others.”

“I’m fine dealing with this gift so long as I can keep it to myself. Jake never needs to know.”

Her aunt’s long stare pierced into Amanda’s heart.

“Sooner or later, you need to give your young man a chance to accept you. All of you.”

Amanda crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not ready.”

“Fair enough, but remember everything is connected. Maybe using your gift to help Declan—who is a great man, by the way—and helping Jake with his research is also a way to help yourself. Did you ever consider that? By using this ability you hate so much, you can help yourself?”

Amanda thought for a long moment. If what Anzhela said was true, then a decent future was possible. But what if it wasn’t? History was filled with stories of those individuals who could never accept anything different. And Jake had already made it clear he despised supernatural “hokum.”

The way to survive had always been to blend in, not stand out.