The Fifth Sense Read online

  “Good.” Lorna nodded.

  “I’m not addicted, but I could be, and I acknowledge that I have that weakness in me.” Sue ran her hands through her hair and took a deep breath. She looked around the quiet lobby, automatically wondering if ghosts watched them even now.

  “I can only begin to guess what you’ve been through, but I can see the appeal of escape. Be proud of yourself for resisting.” Lorna made a move to touch her again, but Sue stepped back.

  “The same day I flushed the pills, the smells became stronger.” Sue frowned in realization. “It’s like when I was numb, I could ignore it, but when I was clear, I let it all in. That’s the night everything started tasting like bourbon, and my television became possessed with messages to come to Freewild Cove.”

  Lorna walked closer to the glass touching the surface before stepping back.

  “Do you think Hank is trying to get me to…?” Sue rubbed her temples.

  “Drive you to kill yourself by overdose?” Lorna finished. “We’re not going to let that happen.”

  “I don’t think that’s what he wants.” Sue stared at the glass door, willing it to shatter with her mind. “That seems a little passive for Hank’s tastes. He’s always been more of a hands-on doer.”

  The ring sent pulses of energy through Sue’s body.

  “Sue—” Lorna barely got the word out when suddenly the door shattered with a loud pop!

  Lorna jerked Sue’s arm, pulling her out of the way as shards of glass sprinkled onto the ground.

  The sound of footsteps came stampeding down the stairs from the apartment.

  “Did you see what happened?” Lorna asked. “Did someone throw a rock?”

  “I’m sorry,” Sue whispered, tugging at the ring still pulsing on her hand. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “What was that?” Vivien appeared with Heather, and they both began examining the door.

  Sue wasn’t sure how she did it, but it felt clear that she had. She willed the mess to rewind like it never happened. Heather had been so kind. She didn’t deserve Sue wrecking her property.

  Heather sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. Then, with a tone that revealed she was determined to fix things, she said, “All right. I’ll get a broom and start cleaning this up. We’ll need plastic sheeting. What time is it? I need to call my supplier. I hope they can get us a door today before—”

  The broken glass began to clink softly as if shaking. They all stopped to stare.

  “Earthquake?” Vivien whispered. “Here?”

  The glass shards leaped up from the ground, fitting together like a million tiny puzzle pieces as the door rebuilt itself. When every last piece had fallen into place, the three women turned to look at her. First, they stared at her face and then, one by one, moved their attention to where she tugged on the ring.

  “How did you?” Heather moved to test the door, pushing it open and letting it fall shut. “It’s as good as new.”

  “Did anyone see?” Lorna joined Heather at the door and peered out.

  “I didn’t mean to break it,” Sue said.

  “I don’t think anyone noticed,” Lorna said. “Thank goodness. I’m not sure how we’d explain what happened.”

  “I was upset and…” She wasn’t sure how to rationalize her willing something into action with her mind.

  “You cleaned up the mess,” Lorna finished with a grin.

  “You’re a cleaner,” Vivien exclaimed. She hurried behind the concessions counter and grabbed a box of candy from the display. Opening it, she flung her hand and sent candy scattering across the floor. Some of it pelted Heather on the legs.

  “Hey, watch it,” Heather grumbled.

  Sue looked at the mess Vivien had made.

  Vivien set the empty candy box on the counter. “All right let’s see what you can do. Clean it up.”

  Sue began to reach for the candy on the floor to pick it up.

  “No, not like that. With your magic,” Vivien instructed.

  Sue’s ring had stopped pulsing. “I don’t know how.”

  “Focus,” Lorna said. “Think about what you want.”

  Heather crossed her arms over her chest, and she stayed quiet as she watched.

  “I want…” Sue lifted her hand helplessly to the side. “I want the candy back in the box?”

  The candy remained on the floor.

  “With conviction,” Vivien urged. “Try again.”

  Sue took a deep breath and stared at the floor, wanting it to be clean. A giant jolt of electricity shot up her arm from the ring and seemed to explode out of her. The candy began to tremble and shake just as the glass shards had. The colorful pieces flew into the air, spinning like a tornado before arching to rain into the box in loud thuds. Before the last thud had even sounded, dust floated from the floor. Though the floor hadn’t looked dirty, the tiny particles created their own cyclone and spun around the lobby. It accumulated dust from the concessions, from the restroom signs, and molding on the high ceilings. It even pulled a piece of stale popcorn from underneath.

  The dust storm slashed between Heather and Lorna, sending their hair flying. Lorna cried out and blocked her face with her arms.

  “Sue!” Heather yelled. “That’s enough.”

  “I don’t know how to stop it!” Sue didn’t understand how she’d started it. How could she end it?

  The dust flew at the door, crashing into the glass. It rippled like desert sand, folding over itself before pushing into the seam along the door’s edge to blow away into the breeze outside. When the last speck of dirt disappeared, a single kernel of popcorn remained. It didn’t fit through the crack, and after hovering for a few seconds, it fell and bounced to a stop on the floor.

  Heather slowly walked over to the popcorn and picked it up. She examined it before carrying it to a trash can near the concessions and dropped it inside. “Okay, then. You’re a cleaner.”

  Sue bit the inside of her lip.

  “What?” Lorna asked. “That doesn’t make you happy?”

  “I’ve spent my adult life making sure Hank’s house was just as he wanted it.” Sue gave a dejected shrug. “I find it sad that my magical power is cleaning.”

  “Our gifts aren’t always what we want, but what we know how to do,” Vivien said. “Lorna’s a healer and finder because that’s who she’s been her whole life. She takes care of others. I’d rather not be in people’s heads all the time, and I know Heather would love not to have ghosts yelling in her ear for attention when she’s talking to people.”

  “True that.” Heather looked around the lobby. She ran her finger over several surfaces. “You did a damn good job.”

  “I wouldn’t look at it as a disappointing thing.” Lorna crouched down to look at the floor. “I’d think of it as you spent so much time cleaning, you don’t have to do it anymore. It’s a reward for time served.” She gave a low whistle. “Wow, these floors look brand new out of the factory. Even the grimy rubbery smudge is gone. I’ve been scrubbing at that thing for months.”

  “I need some air.” Sue looked at the door, nervous about going through it to the other side.

  “Air or coffee?” Vivien nudged her arm. “I could go for coffee.”

  “You’re in pajamas,” Heather pointed out.

  “Sue’s not.” Vivien grinned. “Sue can pick up coffees for us. Can’t you, Sue?”

  Sue felt her cheeks turning red.

  “Oh, please, Sue, please,” Lorna begged.

  Vivien gave a meaningful look at Heather, who quickly added, “Oh, yeah, I could sure use a coffee. And by coffee, I mean a vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso.”

  “Same,” Heather said.

  “Same for me too. I’ll get you cash,” Lorna offered, moving toward the back office.

  “No, this is on me. It’s the least I can do.” Sue didn’t feel like she had much of a choice and finally forced herself to go outside. She glanced back as the door closed, but instead of Hank’s reflection, she s
aw Vivien smiling at her. The woman gave her a thumbs up and waved at her to go.

  Chapter Ten

  Sue intentionally did not look into reflective surfaces as she walked down the sidewalk toward the coffee shop. Instead, she focused on her steps and her breathing.

  In. Out. In. Out.

  Jameson already told her Stu covered the coffee shop in the morning, so she didn’t expect to see him there. She opened her purse as she walked and pulled out the loyalty card for the free latte and ran her finger over his signature on the back. Remembering their night together doing inventory, she smiled.

  Someone bumped into Sue’s arm, catching her attention.

  “Oh, sorry,” a woman said with a laugh, holding up her cell phone. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Sue smiled and started to answer, but realized the woman was in the middle of a video chat and hadn’t been apologizing to her.

  “I know what you’re doing,” the woman said to the phone screen. “Don’t think I don’t.”

  Sue ignored the woman and put the card back in her purse. As silly as it might seem, she wasn’t going to redeem it. She turned the corner, and her eyes automatically searched for the coffee shop entrance. She quickened her pace. A large group walked in before she could reach it. She slowed her step.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Sue glanced down at the sound. Ace the cat stared up at her, pawing the window as if to get her attention. His fluffy white body was settled between a book on finding inner peace and a romance novel. The long fur seemed to swallow the edges of the covers. His mouth opened, and she heard the faintest meow.

  Sue didn’t think as she went into the bookstore. A tiny bell dinged overhead. Ace appeared in front of her and looked back. The second she reached out to pet him, he started walking away. He went several feet before glancing around as if to make sure she followed him.

  “Aren’t you the little rascal?” Sue whispered. The old wooden floorboards squeaked as she walked on them. “Playing hard to get.”

  Ace led her to a hollow square-shaped sales counter in the middle of the shop and disappeared behind it, knocking open a café swinging door with his body. She peeked over the side but didn’t follow the cat in.

  Sue turned to study the bookshop. On each side of the sales counter were two different sections. To the right stood a small stage with chairs around it. She assumed for visiting authors. To the left, more books were stacked neatly on the taller shelves. Handwritten labels separated them by category. Author quotes were painted in fine script on the walls, so tiny she had to lean close to read them. Old paperbacks were stacked to create unique patterns with their worn pages and cracked spines on a shelf toward the very back marked, “Well Loved.”

  She liked that, well loved. It was so much better than, used or old or discarded.

  It occurred to her that as people aged and became worn and cracked, they should be able to say they were well loved. Not discarded. Not old. Not useless or used or past a prime.

  A tear slipped down her cheek.

  Not thrown into a trunk on their fortieth birthday because their worth was over, because all that was left was age on a once youthful face and extra padding on hips.

  It was a memory she had tucked away into the deep recesses of her mind because it was too painful to relive. Hank didn’t try to kill her because she’d done something wrong, or because she was a crappy housewife, but because he knew that she would get old like any other human, and he could not have his image tarnished by her wrinkles.

  “Meh,” Ace loudly protested her line of thought from somewhere behind the counter, drawing her out of the memory so she could lock the door on it once more.

  Sue gave a small laugh and said under her breath, “Meh, is right, buddy.”

  There was something safe and charming to small independent bookstores. The most notable being that there were no televisions for ghosts or magic to possess. Bookstores were so innocent looking, so warm and welcoming, like a giant hug waiting to invite you in. And yet, they were filled with every imaginable adventure known to man. Spotting an alien romance cover, she chuckled and corrected—known to man or extraterrestrial.

  The wealth of human experience could be read in books. Here those alien romances mingled with highbrow literature, both equal but with different purposes—one to inform, the other to entertain. Classics danced with nonfiction. They all waited for someone to pick them up and lay them open, to explore everything they had to offer.

  What kind of person ended up owning a place like this? In a town like Freewild Cove? Next to a coffee shop with Jameson as an owner?

  What did she want?

  Who could she be?

  Could she be this?

  Her hand tingled, a sign she now knew to heed. The dream became quietly clear. She wanted honest, thoughtful work. She was meant to be here, in this place. When she followed Ace inside, she had expected to pet him, maybe browse as she waited for the large group to get their coffees. Instead, she had been struck unexpectantly with something more. She turned a slow circle, looking around as the image of a future dared to become apparent.

  The bookshop owner and the coffee shop owner. What went together better than books and coffee? Or tea, of course?

  She and Jameson?

  Sue smiled as she drew a finger along a row of spines. She used to love falling into a book, reading until the sun peeked through her window. Even in the drowsy aftermath, she didn’t resent the exhaustion as the words stayed with her and carried her through. It has been such a simple pleasure, one she hadn’t indulged in years. When life became about survival, simple pleasures were the first to go.

  Sue found a small reading nook buried between the ends of two shelves. A young boy had taken up occupancy there, curling up with a book that looked much older than his reading level, if the scary clown on the cover was any indication. Even so, he was enthralled and didn’t notice her walk past.

  Sue paused when she was mostly out of his eyesight and leaned to watch him for a moment. Suddenly, he turned to look at her. “You think I don’t know what’s in that head of yours?”

  Sue stiffened. “What did you say?”

  The boy blinked. “I didn’t say anything.”

  He turned back to his book, his attention disappearing inside the pages.

  “Oh, ah, sorry.” Sue retraced her steps.

  Ace sat on the sales counter, licking his paw. Sue lifted her hand to pet him now that he was finally still and in range. His head moved to butt her palm as if welcoming her greeting.

  Sue smiled at the animal as it soaked up her attention. “Thank you for showing me your place. You’re fortunate to get to live here.”

  A bustle of energy in the form of a short woman appeared from the side of the store that had the stage. Cat-eye-shaped glasses and bright lipstick offset black hair streaked with gray piled into a bun on her head. She looked like a character from a book, though Sue couldn’t determine precisely which book.

  The woman stopped and looked at Sue in surprise, then to where Sue petted Ace. The cat jumped off the counter and rushed toward the well-loved books. Papers fluttered behind him, knocked to the floor. Sue saw the boy’s hand drop from the chair to absently pet the cat, even as the rest of him was hidden by the shelves.

  “I’ll get these.” Sue instantly leaned down to pick up the papers.

  The woman came to lean on the counter to watch. “Do you believe in signs?”

  “Signs?” Sue glanced at the woman before tapping the papers on the floor to align them in a pile. She slowly stood and placed them on the counter.

  “I do,” the woman said.

  “I…” Sue glanced around in confusion, looking for a sign on the walls that she might have disobeyed. “Was I not supposed to pet Ace?”

  The woman frowned. “Why wouldn’t you pet Ace?”

  “I…” Sue frowned. “I’m confused. What sign?”

  “What’s your name, love?”

  “Sue, ah, Susan Jewel.”r />
  “Nice to meet you, Sue. I’m Melba.” The woman put her hand on the stack of papers Sue had picked up for her. Each motion seemed to tremble with an energetic force. “I’m talking about cosmic signs. When the universe whispers and you’re lucky enough to hear it.”

  Sue leaned forward to whisper, “You mean magical powers?”

  Just how unique was this town? Did everyone have secret magical powers?

  Melba chuckled. “I wish magic. How cool would that be! Though, I suppose there is a kind of everyday magic in things that happen to us.”

  Sue couldn’t help but return the smile. “All right. So what is the cosmic sign?”

  “You’re meant to be here,” Melba stated, as if it was an obvious fact. “Ace is never wrong in his judgment of people.”

  Sue looked around. “It is a great store.”

  “I know,” Melba nodded.

  “Ace is a fantastic cat,” Sue added.

  “He’s a naughty scamp,” Melba said with a shrug. “But I love him. He’s never wrong.”

  “So you said.” Sue felt the natural end of a conversation coming and started to pull away.

  “Ten thousand,” Melba said.

  “Ten thousand what?” Sue stopped her slow departure.

  Melba tapped her fingernail on the stack of papers. “To buy out my business. It includes all the inventory, contacts, etcetera, etcetera. Not the building. We lease.”

  Sue glanced down and read the page heading, “The Bookstore in Freewild Cove Sales Contract Page Five of Seven.”

  “Cosmic, right?”

  “Uh,” Sue glanced around. “I think maybe you were expecting someone else?”

  “No.” Melba shook her head. “I’m pretty sure it’s you. Ace is never wrong. I’ve had these contracts sitting here for roughly four months. I woke up one night and had a feeling right here.” She pushed her fist to the center of her chest. “It’s time for the last chapter of my business owner book and I should be moving into the epilogue soon. I knew that the right person would find this contract. Not a single person has touched them since I put them here, and don’t let today’s lack of foot traffic fool you. A lot of people have come in.”