Pages and Premonitions, page 14
“May I hold that one?”
Peacock brought over a pair of thin gloves for Shelby to put on. “It’s important to wear the gloves to protect the coin.”
Reaching out a hand, the young woman gently lifted it from the velvet slot and the instant her fingers touched the cool metal, Shelby sucked in a sharp breath. The room swam before her eyes and suddenly a vivid scene flashed in her mind - she saw a shadowy figure creeping through moonlit rooms going through drawers and cabinets. The person paused by the coin collection, greedily running their hands over the treasures. Shelby strained to see their face, but it remained obscured in the darkness.
Just as abruptly, the vision ended and Shelby sagged against Travis who stood beside her.
"Whoa, are you all right?" Travis grasped her shoulders to steady her as Mr. Peacock looked on in concern.
"Shelby, what happened?" asked Mr. Peacock worriedly.
Struggling to clear the fog from her brain, she was still disoriented from the intense vision. "I'm sorry ... I just felt lightheaded for a moment," she managed.
Travis helped ease her into a chair. "Put your head down between your knees," he advised. "Take slow, deep breaths."
As Shelby followed his instructions, her head gradually cleared. She couldn't very well tell them what had really happened - they'd think she was crazy if she reported that touching the coin had triggered a psychic vision.
"I'm so sorry to worry you," she said, slowly sitting back up. "I guess I didn't eat enough at breakfast, and I didn’t sleep well last night." She shot Travis an apologetic look.
"No need to apologize," Mr. Peacock assured her kindly. "Let me get you some juice." The man bustled off to the kitchen.
Travis crouched beside her chair; his brown eyes filled with concern. "Are you sure you're okay? Can I get you anything?"
Shelby managed a wan smile. "I'll be fine. Thanks, Travis. I just need to get my blood sugar up."
They chatted casually about the coin collection to fill the time until Mr. Peacock returned with a glass of orange juice and a granola bar. After drinking the juice and eating the bar, Shelby felt much better.
“We should probably head out,” Travis suggested. “It would probably be good for you to rest.”
They bid Mr. Peacock goodbye with promises to meet again soon.
As they walked back into town, fat snowflakes drifted lazily down from the steel gray sky. Shelby tucked her hands into her coat pockets and ducked her chin into her scarf to ward off the chill. She glanced around at the charming shopfronts lining Main Street each one decked out in holiday splendor. Gleaming garlands with red bows framed windows filled with festive displays. Sparkling white lights edged the eaves of the quaint buildings and Christmas trees seen through front windows were decorated with tinsel, ornaments, and ribbons. The fresh blanket of snow muffling their footsteps lent the air a magical hush.
Without looking at him, Shelby could feel Travis's eyes on her.
Finally, the detective spoke, his warm breath frosting the air between them. "Shelby, can I ask ... did you really just get dizzy back there? It seemed like something more." When she didn't immediately respond, he continued gently. "You know you can tell me, right?"
She wrestled with herself. Could she trust him with the truth? Would he think she was crazy? But Travis had done nothing but treat her with respect and concern.
The detective said, “You seem to be able to sense things others can’t, and I think it’s more than you just noticing things.”
Shelby wasn’t sure what he meant, but she was afraid to admit to having powers, thinking Travis would say she was nuts and he’d go away.
“Did you grow up in Hamlet?” she asked.
“No, I grew up in Salem. It’s an interesting town,” he told her. “There are lots of different kinds of people there. In fact, one of my friends is kind of a psychic. She can sense things about people and situations that turn out to be true. I've learned that keeping an open mind is the best thing to do." He watched Shelby’s face.
“Oh?” Shelby said. “That’s really interesting.”
“I think so,” Travis admitted.
Taking a deep breath, Shelby confessed. "All right ... when I touched that coin, I had some kind of ... vision." She went on to describe what she had seen, watching Travis closely for his reaction.
To her immense relief, he didn't recoil or express disbelief. Instead, he nodded thoughtfully. “I knew it,” Travis said excitedly. “I had a sense you were picking up on things beyond the norm," he admitted. "You have abilities and sensitivities most others don't. Did you have some sort of psychic sensation when you looked at Mr. Peacock’s coin collection?”
“Yes. I had a vision of someone going into Mr. Peacock’s house. I could sense the person was dangerous and full of ill intent. I couldn’t see the face though.”
“Maybe if you hold one of the coins again, your vision will sharpen,” Travis suggested.
“This paranormal stuff doesn’t freak you out?” Shelby asked.
“Not one bit,” Travis told her. “It’s just another form beyond our five senses. Some people have extrasensory perception, and others don’t. I think you're one of them. There are more things in this world than most people want to accept. I've seen enough in life not to reject something just because it's unfamiliar."
“That’s a very mature way of looking at it.” Shelby smiled at the detective.
“When Chief Martin of Sweet Cove told me I should collaborate with you, I knew exactly what he meant,” Travis explained. “It’s just hard to bring it up with someone.”
A wide grin spread over Shelby’s mouth as she shook her head. “It sure is hard. I expect people to shun me. I can't tell you how glad I am that you’re so accepting. I really was afraid you'd run away screaming if I told you." She let out a sigh. "Though I'll admit, some of what I can do now scares me a little. It just started recently after I hit my head. I'm still trying to understand it."
Travis nodded sympathetically. "That makes sense. Exploring talents like yours is uncharted territory, but if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here. I can’t help with your new skills, but I can listen."
Impulsively, Shelby gave him a quick hug. "Thank you. You have no idea how much that means. I was so worried you'd think I was crazy or delusional if I told you."
"Never," Travis assured her sincerely. "I trust you, Shelby, and I’d like to help if I can.” He chuckled. “Especially if your new skills can help us solve this case."
Shelby smiled up at him, feeling a swell of gratitude. “Actually, besides a couple of my friends, I haven’t told a soul what’s happening to me.”
“Well, you told me, so that makes one more.”
“Right.” Shelby was so happy she could have skipped all the way home through the snow. “Thanks for not freaking out.”
“I’m glad you told me. Would you be willing to hold one of the gold coins again to see if you have a clearer vision?”
“I’m so exhausted right now, I don’t think it would be worthwhile.” Shelby was sorry to disappoint the detective.
“I understand. Maybe another day? I can ask Mr. Peacock about it.”
“Yeah, let’s do it another time.” Shelby was glad to try to have another vision because then she could see Travis again.
After seeing Shelby safely home, Travis headed to the station, his mind spinning. Learning about Shelby's burgeoning psychic talents gave him much to think about. He was determined to help her, as best he could, not just for the sake of the case, but for her own wellbeing.
He thought back to his old friend Claire in Salem who had psychic empath skills. She described it as being able to read people's energy and emotions. Travis had been skeptical at first, but over time, he came to trust in his friend’s intuitive impressions as she unerringly zeroed in on things.
Clearly Shelby had profound sensitivity too, but of a different nature since she could apparently perceive events and details not visible to the eye. This could be Shelby's most valuable tool for cracking cases. Travis felt privileged she had confided in him. He hoped this marked a turning point of trust in their partnership, and maybe someday, something deeper between them.
Only time will tell.
21
It was late when Shelby sank back onto the plush sofa enjoying the warmth coming from the crackling fire in the bookshop. With Harper curled up beside her, she stretched her legs out on the ottoman and opened her laptop to do some paperwork for the shop.
Shelby made a few notes about inventory and upcoming events as snow squalls swirled past the frosted windows, and the old building settled with some creaks and groans.
Setting aside her work for a moment, Shelby reached over to stroke Harper's soft fur. "Thanks for being so understanding about me passing out at Mr. Peacock's house. I'm still trying to get a handle on these visions and senses. Having your support means a lot to me."
Harper lifted her head to meet the young woman's gaze. "Of course, I'm here anytime you want to talk through what you experienced. The more details you can give me, the more I may be able to help interpret it."
Shelby nodded slowly.
Harper asked, “Where did you say Mr. Peacock’s coins were located?”
“The coins were displayed in a glass case in his study.”
“Did a key open the case?” Harper asked.
“Yes, Mr. Peacock had a key,” Shelby told the cat.
“How many coins were in the display box?”
“About ten. Why are you asking?” Shelby questioned the cat.
“Because Emily wants to know,” Harper explains.
“Emily? The ghost?” Shelby sat up. “Why?”
“Because she wants to help Mr. Peacock.” Harper shifted her eyes to a corner of the room and whispered, “But don’t call her a ghost. She doesn’t like the term.”
“Okay,” Shelby agreed. “This is wonderful that she wants to help. Is there anything else I can tell her?”
Emily’s particles began to shimmer and swirl, and in a few seconds, the ghost materialized.
“Hello, Emily,” Shelby told the transparent form.
The spirit floated a little above the floor and stared at Shelby for a few moments before quickly disappearing.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything to her,” Shelby lamented.
“She wanted to show herself for a few seconds, but she didn’t want to remain visible because it’s too hard to speak to you,” Harper explained.
“But why can she speak to you?” Shelby asked softly.
“Animals and spirits can communicate via the same wavelength. Speaking to humans takes up a lot of energy for a ghost so usually they avoid speaking to people,” the cat explained.
“Wavelengths and energy? I don’t know what that means, but I get the gist of it,” Shelby admitted. “Does Emily know who wants to hurt Mr. Peacock?”
“She does not,” Harper said.
Shelby nodded while letting out a sigh.
The cat twitched her tail thoughtfully. "When you touched one of the coins, you had a vivid vision. Can you describe again exactly what you saw?"
Shelby closed her eyes and went over the details of the vision she’d had at Peacock’s house. When she opened her eyes, Harper was staring intently at the corner of the room.
"Is Emily trying to tell us something?" Shelby asked excitedly.
"Yes, she wants to help protect Mr. Peacock if she can," explained the cat. After a thoughtful pause, Harper twitched her ears and reported, "Emily says the collections are important to solving the case."
"The coin collection or the art collection?" Shelby asked for clarification.
The cat nodded as she listened to Emily. “The coin collection.”
"There must be a connection between those items and the motive, but what is it?" Shelby began pacing as she thought aloud, "Whoever killed that intruder was after something specific in Mr. Peacock's house. Were they targeting his collections?"
Harper suddenly went very still, fur bristling slightly along her back as she stared fixedly at the empty corner again.
"What is it, Harper?" Shelby asked worriedly. "What's happening?”
“Emily is feeling off. There’s something going on that’s disturbing the atoms in the air.”
Shelby looked blank. “Translation?”
“Something isn’t right,” the cat explained.
“I know,” Shelby said softly. “Someone was killed in Mr. Peacock’s house and the killer is probably biding his time and will soon attack Mr. Peacock … so Emily is correct, something isn’t right at all.”
Harper moved closer to the young woman. “Where’s Lucy?”
“She went to a Christmas concert with Ross.” Shelby became alarmed. “Is Lucy in danger? Is she hurt?”
“She’s fine,” Harper reports. “I asked about her because we could use more input and she always has something logical to contribute.”
Shelby’s eyes went wide. “Is the killer someone Mr. Peacock knows?”
“Emily isn’t answering the question,” the cat says. “Wait. Emily says, ‘People often want what doesn’t belong to them.’”
Shelby stood and clutched the rose quartz gem on her necklace. “The person who killed Emily wanted what wasn’t his. Emily’s stamp collection … her killer murdered her to get at her stamp collection and gain access to her assets.” Shivering, the skin on her arms prickled with unease. “Emily, if you know anything that could help, please give us guidance," she implored the hidden spirit.
After a long pause, Harper finally said, "Emily's message is that the person you know can be more dangerous than a stranger."
"So Mr. Peacock might actually be in danger from someone close to him?" Shelby asked sharply. "One of his friends maybe?"
"She can’t elaborate further," said Harper apologetically. After another weighty silence, the cat added, "But Emily is repeating the phrase, 'People often want what is not theirs.'"
Pacing again, Shelby tapped her chin. "People want what's not theirs ... that must be key to the killer's motive here. Just like Emily's murderer - he killed her because he wanted her valuable stamp collection."
Stopping abruptly, Shelby swayed on her feet as the edges of her vision darkened, which indicated the now-familiar onset of a vision. She felt Harper trying to steady her as images began to flash before her mind's eye.
She saw a shadowy figure moving stealthily through a dark room. They seemed to be searching for something, growing increasingly agitated as they rifled through drawers and cabinets to no avail. Finally, the person straightened, wheeled, and strode purposefully across the room. Reaching their target, they raised an object and brought it crashing down onto the head of the cowering man before them. The man collapsed to the floor.
With a ragged gasp, Shelby emerged from the vision touching Harper's fur to ground herself.
"Did you see something?" Harper asked intently.
Shelby nodded, still shaken by the violent vision. "The killer ..." She trailed off with a shudder. Trying to imprint the vision's details in her mind, she began to explain what she’d seen. Shelby wished Lucy were there to help analyze and make connections. She considered calling Travis to share what she had learned but a quick glance at the antique clock showed it was past midnight.
Too late for a call. Besides, the visions always left her drained and she wasn’t sure she had the energy to explain what was going on.
Suddenly, a terrible wave of anxiety raced through the young woman’s body. “Mr. Peacock.”
“What is it?” Harper asked with concern.
Shelby leapt to her feet. “Mr. Peacock is in danger.” She grabbed her phone and called Travis, but the detective didn’t pick up so she left a message. Next, she called Lucy, but the call went to voicemail so she left a message for her, too.
“Where is everyone when you need them?” Running to the closet, she grabbed her coat. “Come on, Harper. I’m having a premonition. We have to get out of here.”
Shelby could feel it … the clouded path was growing clearer.
22
Shelby crept through the snowy darkness surrounding James Peacock's house, with Harper pressed close at her heels. The property was still and silent except for a single light glowing from the back of the house. Unease skittered down Shelby's spine, her breaths coming out in frosty puffs in the freezing night air. She paused, pressing a gloved hand against the cold wall of the house to steady her nerves.
"Something's wrong here, Harper," she whispered, voicing her fears out loud. "I can feel it. I saw it in my mind. Mr. Peacock is in mortal danger." She swallowed hard and pressed her finger to her neck feeling her rose quartz gemstone beneath her heavy coat. “I’m afraid.”
Harper gazed up at the young woman with luminous eyes that seemed to glow brighter in the darkness. "Trust your instincts, Shelby. Take a moment to center yourself, then listen to what they’re telling you we should do next."
Shelby bit her bottom lip anxiously, glancing between the house and the street hoping for some sign of which path was right. Going in alone was dangerous and stupid, but waiting for Travis might cost them precious time. She wavered, uncertainty and dread twisting her insides.
Finally, after several agonizingly long moments, she turned back to her companion, new resolve steeling her spine. "You're right. I know what I need to do, but I’m still afraid."
“I’m right beside you,” Harper told her.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she gave Harper a determined nod and moved silently through the snowy yard toward the back of the house. Shelby stuck close to the inky shadows encircling the place, relying on faint ambient light to pick her way cautiously in the darkness.
As she approached the back of Mr. Peacock’s home, the indistinct sound of raised voices reached her ears. Shelby crept up the porch steps, her boots making barely a sound on the snow-dusted wood. She held her breath as she slowly peered through the kitchen window.
