A Medium's Thanksgiving Table Read online

  Chapter 17

  Becky was used to people tracking her down and she understood that the reasons they needed her help were often very alarming to them. However, this desire for her help was ridiculous and scary as hell to the young woman.

  Becky looked closely at the driver. She was in her forties, tall, heavyset but in a different way than the other woman. Henrietta’s arms were as large and muscular as Bobby’s, and that was saying something.

  Bobby was buff; he not only worked out regularly, he also did manual labor building homes for less fortunate people through Habitat for Humanity. With that in mind, and always a person who tried to find the best in others, Becky thought that perhaps Henrietta didn’t know her own strength. Maybe she hadn’t intended to hurt Becky when she squeezed the breath out of her.

  The three women rode in silence for a while as Becky scrutinized the driver and passenger, but things grew even more alarming once they were out of the River Arts District and headed towards the expressway. Although it was obvious that they were going to merge onto I-26, the older woman slipped a bag over Becky’s head so that she couldn’t see which direction they were going – east or west.

  Oh my goodness, Becky worried. Where are they taking me?

  “The bag is to protect all of us,” the passenger muttered. “Don’t be frightened. I’ll take it off once we get there.”

  I am here, dear one, Zetmeh replied. I am always beside you. You will not suffer this alone. Perhaps if you try to be friendly with these women. Perhaps this will go easier on you, my child.

  “Do we know each other?” Becky asked as she turned her covered head to the right and the left in an attempt to include both women. She’d follow Zetmeh’s advice, but she also needed answers.

  “Forgive my manners, Miss Tibbs. My name is Irene and you’ve already heard me say Henrietta’s name. I have a problem that you’re going to help me with. But for the time being, just stay quiet and let me think. Everything will be clear once we get to the house.”

  The drive took over thirty minutes and Becky was terribly frightened. Jacob didn’t appear to her again and she felt terribly alone.

  The injury Henrietta had inflicted was more serious than she knew. The bag over her head cut off life-giving oxygen and Becky grew woozy. She passed out and slumped against Irene for the remainder of the trip.

  When she was awake again, Becky was inside a large farmhouse and the heavyset woman named Irene sat beside her on a floral velour sofa that smelled as if several large dogs had been using it for their bed. That stale air didn’t help her already shallow breathing condition.

  “Where am I?” Becky gasped.

  “I really am sorry about all this, Miss Tibbs,” Irene apologized, “but I really need your help. I couldn’t risk you turning me down or delaying it. It had to be today. It had to be right now. I don’t know how to explain it any better than that.”

  “You could’ve just asked me,” Becky gulped in as much musty air as she could manage.

  “You’ve tried to convince me that none of this is necessary, but I couldn’t take that chance. This is some serious business. You’ll see, Miss Tibbs.”

  “You can call me Becky. But, I have to tell you, Irene, I don’t know how much I’ll be able to help you while I’m in this condition. I feel sick and as if my head has been stuffed with cotton. Did you do something to me other than kidnap me?” Becky asked. Her head lolled to one side. She tried to sit up straighter but she didn’t have the energy. Her side burned with a stabbing pain and her breathing was painfully shallow. She couldn’t take a full deep breath even though she knew that was the quickest way to much needed calmness.

  “It’s probably your blood sugar. Did you eat anything this morning?”

  “No. Only coffee.”

  “I’ll get you some juice and cookies. Just sit still,” the woman kindly replied.

  Chapter 18

  In the meantime, Jacob went to Bobby’s home. As was his custom, Bobby was sleeping off a massive hangover that he’d acquired the night before… and he wasn’t alone. An attractive brunette lay sprawled in the bed beside him. Jacob called out his name repeatedly, but Bobby didn’t stir from his alcohol induced coma.

  After that didn’t work, Jacob encouraged Rings, the ghost dog, to jump on the bed to assist in waking Bobby. Rings licked his owner’s face and chewed on his toes, but without results. Bobby was dead to the world.

  When nothing seemed to get through to the brother, Jacob finally yelled directly into Bobby’s face using his loudest, most earth-shattering voice, “Bobby! Becky has been kidnapped!” Bobby came out of bed with his arms swinging in fight or flight mode.

  Probably a leftover side-effect of his time spent in the military, Jacob surmised.

  However, when Bobby saw that it was Jacob who had roused him, he angrily yelled, “What the hell, Jacob!”

  “Bobby, I’m very sorry to have to wake you like this, but I’m also very desperate. Becky was kidnapped. Two very large women forced Becky into her truck and drove away with her.”

  “What?” Bobby asked in alarm. Still drowsy from his night of self-indulgence, he thought he was having a nightmare. “When? Where? How did this happen?” he asked the questions rapidly, not waiting for a response.

  “Just a few minutes ago, but I think Becky is also injured. She’s having trouble breathing. She needs our help right now.”

  “Can you contact her?” Bobby asked next.

  “I’m afraid that I cannot. Somehow, I lost her. I can’t imagine what would keep me from her. I think she must’ve fainted or lost consciousness. Worst case, perhaps she’d been drugged. I can’t find her now,” Jacob regretfully informed the very worried brother.

  “I don’t understand,” Bobby said in exasperation. “How is that possible? Are you saying that you cannot sense her anywhere?”

  Because of Becky’s unique ability, all ghosts could technically find her quite easily. She was the brightest light that opened the doorway to the other side. Every ghost on the planet knew what her light meant.

  If Jacob can’t find her, does that mean she’s…? Bobby couldn’t even finish the thought. It was simply too painful to think of a world without Becky in it. She was the sweetest, kindest, most unusual person he’d ever met. She wouldn’t even use curse words unless you counted ‘drat, rats, fudge, dang, and freaking’ as cursing. Becky was something else. And, it wasn’t just because she was his sister. It was because it was true. Anyone who knew Becky knew that as well.

  Jacob, instinctively knowing where Bobby’s thoughts had traveled interrupted him, “I prefer to think that she is unconscious or in a dark place where she can’t channel the light. It also could be that she is terrified. That also blocks spiritual contact. Love can’t penetrate overwhelming fear. I know she is in trouble. That’s why I’m here. You must contact your friend, Marty Smith, at the police department. We need his help.”

  “I’ll call Marty right now and ask him to meet me at Becky’s shop. But, I have to ask… why didn’t you go with her. Why did you let her out of your sight, Jacob?”

  “Don’t you think I’ve been asking myself that same question? Don’t you know how much I regret the decision to come to you rather than stay with her?” Jacob forlornly responded. “Although it is true that we can be anywhere in the blink of an eye, we can’t be in two places at one time!”

  Bobby grunted and then slapped the cute round buns of the girl who was still sleeping in his bed. “Sorry, Brittany,” he apologized. “Something important has come up. Get dressed and go home. I’ll call you later.”

  Chapter 19

  Next, Bobby placed the call to Marty. Then, he called Barbara while he drove to the antique store his sister owned. When he arrived, Marty’s cruiser was already there. Even though the store belonged to their sister, Bobby and Barbara both had keys to the front door in case of an emergency. This was definitely one of those.

  Bobby unlocked the door, let Marty inside, and then relocked it, keep
ing the ‘closed’ sign in place. Then, he explained the situation to his friend.

  “Why would anyone kidnap her?” Marty asked after Bobby had finished.

  “I have no idea, but I really need your help,” Bobby urged.

  “Bobby, you know as well as I do that we can’t consider her missing based on the observations of a ghost. We can’t do anything until forty-eight hours have passed. I’m not sure what I can do for you until she’s been gone that long.”

  “There has to be something you can pull out of your hat, Marty, please.”

  “I can have someone take a look at the traffic cams and see if I can spot her truck leaving the area. However, unlike other cities, we don’t really have that many here in Asheville. Still, we can hope that the ones we do have will give us an idea of who has her and where they went. Then, and only then, can I get someone to look into it further. I can do that much and I will right now. I already know what my Captain is going to say and it won’t be helpful. He’s going to tell me to stand-down because we have no proof that a crime has been committed. We both know that Becky often goes off on her special cases to help someone without conferring with you or anyone else.”

  “I know, but this isn’t one of those cases. I can feel it in my guts. Still, thank you for the offer to look at street cams,” a downcast Bobby replied. “I’m waiting for Barbara to arrive. You’ll let us know if you find out anything?”

  “I’ll be in touch,” Marty replied as he let himself out.

  Becky! Wake up! Zetmeh nearly screamed. Her unusually panicked voice brought Becky around and back to consciousness.

  “Where have you been?” Becky whispered.

  Your terror blocked my voice, dear one, but I’ve been with you every step of the way. You are never alone. I am here and your other spirit guides surround you with love. You need to rest now.

  Becky felt lightheaded. But she knew that Zetmeh was right about one thing, she needed to rest. She felt like she could go to sleep and never wake up.

  You must push those thoughts away. You can rest, but you will awaken again. You need medical treatment. For now, let your body and mind rest so that answers will come to you. Ponder how you can best be of service in this situation. My best advice is that you help this woman as quickly as possible so that she will let you go.

  Becky nodded.

  Chapter 20

  Irene returned with a small plate of cookies and a glass of orange juice, but it was all that Becky could do to sip the juice. She could barely breathe, much less swallow. She held the glass resting in her lap and whispered, “Let’s see if I can help you, Irene. I mean, the quicker I help you with your problem, the quicker I can get back to work. So let’s get started, please.”

  “Are you a witch, Miss Tibbs?” Irene asked.

  “A witch?” Becky asked in surprise spewing the small sip of juice she’d managed to take out of her mouth.

  “Are you a witch?” Irene asked again, and without looking at Becky, she handed her a napkin.

  “Are you talking about a Wiccan who grows herbs and makes salves, soaps, and ointments for her family and friends or a bonafide witch who casts spells and uses charms to get her way? Let me assure you that I am neither. Why would you ask such a thing? I am a medium. I see and talk to dead people, to ghosts. Is that why you took me? You thought I’m a witch? If so, then you’ve made a huge mistake. Now, if you have a ghost, I can help you. Other than that, we are wasting time and I need a doctor. I think Henrietta punctured my lung when she grabbed me.”

  The lengthy response had taken most of Becky’s energy, but she knew Zetmeh was correct with her advice. She needed medical treatment and she need to help this woman as quickly as possible in order to get it.

  “From the things my son told me, she started out as a Wiccan,” Irene said as if she’d barely heard anything Becky had said. “She made baby butt balm for her nieces and nephews, tinctures for her sisters, just simple stuff that helped people. Unfortunately, wanting more power, she quickly progressed to the other kind.”

  “Who are we talking about?” Becky breathlessly asked.

  “I’ve gotten ahead of myself. I’m really distressed as you can see,” the frazzled woman admitted. The reality of what she had done settled in on Irene. She was normally a kind-hearted matron of the community and yet, she had kidnapped someone that she’d heard through the grapevine could help her. She was beginning to wonder if Becky could give the kind of help she needed. Although it was true that her son was dead, Irene needed the help of a witch. Only a witch could undo this tragic thing that had been done to her son, Matt.

  Irene began to realize that she could very well face criminal charges for nabbing this young woman – unless she was never found. But that thought didn’t set well with Irene and she pushed it out of her mind. She wasn’t that kind of woman. She’d try to get the help she needed and then she’d just have to wait to see how this played out.

  “Why don’t you start at the beginning,” Becky suggested.

  “I’m talking about my son’s ex-wife,” Irene slowly clarified. “Her name is Anika. She hexed my son by putting her blood in his coffee, some old hoodoo type of lore from Louisiana that would bind him to her in love. That’s where she’s from, the dark bayous of Louisiana. Can you believe that? Matt fell head over heels in love with her, but I was never really sure if it was real or just the magic his wife used on him. He was so enthralled with Anika that he would’ve done anything for her. He’d have even killed for her if she’d asked him to do it.”

  Are you ready to kill for Matt? Irene asked herself. She shuddered at the thought.

  “Eventually, she grew tired of him, but the spell was never lifted. He still loved her and wanted her even when she didn’t want him anymore. It was horrible to watch his misery. He was like a love-sick puppy and crazy jealous. But she didn’t care one whit. She carried on with every friend and acquaintance he’d ever had, flaunting her sexual escapades in front of him. He couldn’t leave her alone and told her how she hurt him. She didn’t like that. Right before he died, she had one of the witch doctors in her coven do an ego assassination on my son.”

  “I’m sorry,” Becky interrupted, “a what?” It was difficult to speak or follow along with Irene’s story but she tried her best to keep up.

  “An ego assassination. Matt received a massive dose of psychedelics without his knowledge in an attempt to kill his self-identity or his sense of self. Afterwards, I thought the witch was trying to kill that part of him that loved Anika. I don’t think she knew how to reverse her stupid spell so in essence she cheated. She had someone else use their magic on him. I don’t actually know the true purpose of it. Maybe she wanted him to stop loving her or maybe she wanted to simply destroy him. I do know that he ‘tripped balls’ – his words for it, not mine – for more than a week right here in this house with me. Yep, Matt came home to me where he felt safe. He was out of his mind and it was several days before he could even speak coherently.”

  “Didn’t you take him to a doctor?”

  “There wasn’t anything a doctor could do for him. It had to wear off on its own. He seemed to have recovered and was able to get about again, but the experience would return in waves – he’d seem fine and then he was tripping again. During one of the times when he felt normal, Matt was driving home when he had a fatal accident. According to the coroner, he died instantly. Currently, he’s trapped in my living room mirror.” At the last sentence, Irene burst into tears and Becky fainted again when she saw a glimpse of Matt’s ghost appear in the reflective surface across the room.

  Chapter 21

  When she came to, Irene still sat beside her on the couch. She was stroking Becky’s hand and talking softly to her as if she was a scared grandchild. “You’ll be all right, Miss Tibbs. You’re gonna be all right. I know it. I know you’re the only one who can help me and Matt.”

  “I guess I don’t feel very well, Irene. What were you saying? An ego assassination? I’ve never hea
rd of such a thing. I can tell you that according to lore, mirrors are a reflection. They can show us who we really are if we look closely and with an open heart. Sometimes, they can reveal our lies. Can you tell me what you want me to do since I’m not a witch?”

  Becky wasn’t sure she’d get out of this alive. She was growing weaker by the minute in body and mind. How could she help Irene with a witch problem? It was beyond her scope of expertise. Sure, she knew there were witches, but with power like this? She’d never even considered such a thing. And in all the time she’d been a medium, she’d never run into anything this bizarre either.

  Now, dear one, that’s not exactly true, Zetmeh reminded. Remember Josh. Your young friend who visited you during your last birthday. He was trapped in a hellish loop by his beliefs. You were only able to assist him by helping him release those beliefs. To solve this difficulty, you will have to dissolve the beliefs in such magical power. This will free Matt from the mirror. It is only by our beliefs that we are trapped in lies. It is the only way to gain your freedom and to set Matt free. I also must tell you that this home has a darkness that surrounds it. Perhaps the ex-wife Irene speaks of has put some kind of enchantment over it. Jacob can no longer find you. I can find you and remain with you because I am not bound by either light or dark. I am in balance with both. I will remain by your side and I will contact Jacob when it becomes necessary. For now, you must solve this woman’s problem. You must free her son from his entrapment.

  “Yes, my son is trapped in that mirror right there,” Irene acknowledged as she pointed to a large, ornate mirror hanging on the wall across from where they sat. “If you look closely, you can see him. I know it sounds bizarre and crazy, but it is very true. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. I need you to help me get him out of there so he can move on like all dead people move on. It’s just not right that he’s trapped.”