The Fifth Sense Read online

  “I guess there is only one way to find out,” Heather took several steps into the room and stopped to study Sue.

  The model shut the front door and stated, more to herself than anyone else, “Here we go again.”

  “I didn’t steal it.” Sue held out the ring box to Heather. “I want to return it.”

  “Oh, no.” Heather held up her hands and stepped back, refusing to take it. She turned her hand to show the ring on her forefinger. “I already got my Julia ring. I don’t need a second.”

  The blonde dropped her arm from around her shoulders.

  Sue tried to give it to the blonde, who shook her head in return.

  “Don’t look at me, either,” the model said. “We all have our Julia adventures well in hand. That one belongs to you.”

  “I don’t…” Sue touched her head. She wanted to collapse from exhaustion. She placed the jewelry box on top of the moving boxes. “I think I need to sit down for a second.”

  “Of course.” The blonde led her through an archway into a dining room. She pulled out a chair.

  “Where is everyone?” Heather asked the blonde.

  “When I saw we had a visitor, I sent them out back with Jan,” the blonde answered. “It felt like the thing to do.”

  Heather nodded. “Good call. No need to overwhelm.”

  Suddenly, a strong wind blew the front door open, slamming it hard. The ring box flew through the living room, slid over the floor, and tapped against Sue’s foot.

  “Maybe you should put it on,” Heather said. “Trust me. There’s no fighting it.”

  The model went to close the door. “Yeah, before Julia’s magic wrecks our new house.”

  “Things might seem difficult now, but they always work out.” The blonde lifted the box off the floor and pressed it into Sue’s hand. “What’s your name?”

  “Susan, but they call me Sue,” she said. “Sue Jewel.”

  “Nice to meet you, Sue. I’m Lorna Addams,” the blonde said. “This is Heather Harrison, and that is Vivien Stone.”

  “Hi.” Sue set the ring box on the table. “Please, I just want to return your property. It was sent home with me by accident.”

  “Sent home from where?” Lorna sat on the seat next to her, leaning a little too close.

  Sue inched back in her chair to put distance between them. “I was in the hospital. It came home in my belongings. The hospital staff probably dropped it in my bag on accident.”

  “Where was that?”

  “St. Louis,” Sue answered.

  “And you came all this way just to return it?” Lorna asked.

  “It’s not mine,” Sue insisted. “I don’t want it.”

  “Yeah,” Vivien said with a small laugh. She walked around to the other side of the table to sit across from her. “It is now.”

  “I don’t want it.” Sue tried to stand, but her legs felt weak, and she fell back into her seat.

  “Hospital,” Lorna reached for Sue’s hand, but Sue pulled away from her touch. “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” Sue dismissed. Why were they talking about this? Why was she even here? Now that she was sitting in Heather’s dining room, she felt like an idiot. Who just jumps on a bus not knowing where they are going? Who thinks they see signs in television commercials and cell phones?

  “People don’t usually go to the hospital for nothing,” Heather said.

  “Just a car wreck.” Sue rubbed her temples.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say just when it comes to a car wreck that lands them in the hospital.” Vivien tapped her fingers on the table and studied her. Her voice softened. “You lost someone, didn’t you?”

  How did she know?

  Sue didn’t answer.

  “You’re overwhelmed,” Vivien continued. “You don’t understand what’s happening to you.”

  They weren’t questions.

  “And why wouldn’t you be?” Lorna again reached for her, finally capturing her hand. “You’re so tired.”

  Sue didn’t like the pity she saw on their faces.

  “And hungry,” Lorna stated, letting go of her and standing. “I hope you like pork roast with a green pepper jelly glaze, lemon and parmesan asparagus, cheesy mashed potatoes, and homemade dinner rolls. We’re moving in, so I didn’t have time to make something elaborate for dessert, but there is chocolate cake.”

  “My something-not-elaborate is me picking up tacos from a food truck,” Heather said. “Lorna’s not-elaborate is something that only took her an hour to cook from scratch.”

  “It’s why she’s our roommate,” Vivien said.

  “I heard that,” Lorna called from the other room.

  “There are other reasons,” Vivien loudly amended.

  “Yeah, your baking,” Heather added.

  To Sue, Vivien said, “You have got to try her cinnamon rolls. I know that after forty, I’m supposed to watch what I eat because I can’t lose weight as fast, but, baby, buy me a forklift because I cannot say no to her cinnamon rolls.”

  Lorna poked her head through the doorway. “I can do that. You want regular or chocolate chip cinnamon buns? I have the stuff to make both.”

  “Oh, no, wait, stop, you don’t have to do that,” Vivien droned in a flat tone, clearly not meaning it. Then more enthusiastically, she added, “Chocolate chip.”

  “Unless you prefer regular?” Heather said to Sue.

  “No, I…” Sue shook her head. They acted like she was going to stay there awhile. The thought of putting anything in her mouth made her gag. “None for me.”

  “You have to eat something.” Lorna came more fully into the room and placed her hands on her hips.

  “I…” Sue looked at the ring box on the table but didn’t touch it. “I can’t.”

  “Are you allergic?” Heather asked. “Because we can accommodate allergies, right Lorna?”

  “Of course,” Lorna said.

  Sue thought about lying, but these women were being nice to her. They invited her into their home, and even though they were a little strange, she had no reason to be mean to them.

  Sue shook her head. “No.”

  “Don’t like pork?” Vivien asked.

  “No, it’s not that, it’s…” Sue continued to stare at the ring box. “Nothing tastes right. I think my mouth is cursed.” She frowned, tucking her chin a little as she drew her eyes to the floor. “And my nose.”

  “Cursed?” Heather took the seat Lorna had previously occupied.

  “It’s just a saying,” Sue tried to dismiss.

  “My mouth is cursed is not a saying. You can’t judge a book by its cover is a saying,” Vivien said. “The grass is always greener on the other side is a saying.”

  “Technically, I think those are clichés,” Heather said, “but you made your point.”

  Vivien sighed and closed her eyes. She absently twirled the antique ring on her finger. “Everything you eat tastes like… like something else, something that makes you gag.”

  “How…?” Sue used the last of her strength to stand and step away from Heather. The second she was upright, she regretted it.

  “We believe you,” Heather said. “Whatever you tell us is happening, we will believe you.”

  “Dinner is almost ready,” Lorna yelled from the kitchen. “I just need a few more minutes.”

  They ignored her.

  “There is a smell too,” Vivien continued. “A phantom smell that follows you?”

  “You can’t know…” Sue shook her head. It was too difficult to concentrate. “What did you do to me? That ring—”

  “Oh, hey, no,” Heather said. “Julia’s rings aren’t cursed. It came to you to be a guide because you need our help.”

  “Help with—?” Before Sue could finish the sentence, the smell of Hank’s cologne surrounded her.

  “What the hell is that smell?” Vivien pinched her nose and turned toward the kitchen doorway. “Lorna, is someone in there smoking fifty cigarettes?”
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br />   Sue coughed, covering her mouth even as she fell to her knees. The smell choked her, and it became hard to breathe. The air rasped from her lungs.

  “Do you feel that?” Heather asked as she dropped to her knees beside Sue.

  “It’s freezing,” Vivien said. “What do you see?”

  “Nothing.” Heather took hold of Sue’s arms. “She’s cold.”

  “Lorna,” Vivien yelled. “We need you!”

  Sue fell onto her side. Heather tried to catch her even as she eased her on the floor. The woman stroked back her hair from her face.

  “I brought dinner rolls,” Lorna said. “The food just came out of the oven, but I thought she could start on these. Where—Omigod, what happened?”

  “She needs your help,” Heather said. “Transfer whatever she has into me.”

  “And me,” Vivien said. “We’ll share it.”

  “We’ll all share it,” Lorna corrected. “Try to make her comfortable.”

  “I can…” Sue tried to sit up.

  “Lie down,” Heather ordered.

  Sue moaned. Her head hurt, and she just wanted the darkness to take her.

  When she opened her eyes, she saw the women leaning over her. She frowned and weakly swatted her hand to get them away. They ignored her.

  “Let her help,” Heather urged. “Lorna’s a healer.”

  “I don’t need reiki or whatever you call it,” Sue protested, though the words sounded more like a mumble even to her own ears. The last thing she wanted was someone touching her, even if they claimed it was for therapeutic purposes. She was only vaguely aware that she was lying on the dining room floor in a stranger’s home.

  “Stop fussing and let us help you.” Lorna touched Sue’s forehead and then reached for Heather’s hand. Lorna closed her eyes. Sue felt her skin tingle where the woman made contact with her.

  After a few seconds, Heather covered her mouth and yawned. “I don’t know if I’m more tired or hungry.”

  “Give me the hunger pains,” Vivien said. “I don’t mind having seconds.”

  Lorna let go of Heather and grabbed Vivien, then placed her hand on Sue’s stomach. Sue couldn’t keep her eyes open. As the pain started to leave her, exhaustion set in.

  Vivien grabbed her side. “Oh, fuck, that’s not hunger pains.”

  Lorna instantly drew her hands away from Sue and Vivien. “What happened?”

  Vivien lifted her shirt to show a bruise forming on her side. “I feel like someone just kicked the shit out of me.”

  Sue felt someone tugging on her shirt. Lorna said, “I don’t see a bruise.”

  “That’s because you gave it to me,” Vivien stated.

  “Here, let me hold it,” Lorna answered.

  “Don’t touch me,” Vivien said. “I’ll be fine. It just took me by surprise.”

  “Is she,” Heather’s voice moved closer as she spoke, “sleeping?”

  Sue was awake, barely, but made no effort to answer them. She didn’t have anything left in her.

  “Find the guys,” Heather ordered. “Have one of them carry her upstairs. I’ll go make sure there are sheets on my bed.”

  “I’ll just sit right here,” Vivien said. “Maybe bring me a painkiller when you’re done? Or a bottle of wine. I don’t care which. I have the strangest urge to be numb.”

  Sue tried to keep listening, but she couldn’t move. She didn’t know what kind of magic spell Lorna had worked with her hands, but Sue wasn’t about to question it. For whatever reason, right now, here on the dining room floor of a stranger’s house, she felt safe. With the pain gone and the hunger eased, she decided to let the darkness claim her.

  Chapter Five

  The smell of cinnamon rolls lured Sue from a deep sleep. It had to be a dream of the childhood she never experienced. Her mother drank. Her father left. Breakfast was a handful of cereal because they never had milk in the fridge. All her life, if she wanted cinnamon rolls, she had to make them herself.

  Maybe this was another side effect of her head injury, another… what was it called?

  She opened her eyes, not recognizing the bedroom. The blue-grey walls looked pristine, and a hint of fresh paint lingered behind the cinnamon rolls.

  Phantom? No. That’s not it.

  Sue sat up on the king-sized bed. The dark blue quilt looked new, but someone had scuffed the white paint on the antique bed frame to make it appear old. Stacks of moving boxes waited along a wall. She pulled the quilt off her legs and hurried to a window to look out at the lawn. She was on the second story of Old Anderson House.

  The smell lingered. Didn’t people smell cinnamon rolls before they had a stroke? Or during? She was sure she’d heard that somewhere.

  Phantasm? No. Shit, what is it called?

  Why couldn’t she remember?

  Sue’s brain felt foggy, as if she’d slept too long and had a hard time coming out of the dream and into reality. She didn’t belong here. She couldn’t go home.

  Sue took a deep breath, thankful for the reprieve from gun oil and cedar.

  What is it—?

  “Good, you’re awake.”

  “Phantosmia,” Sue said, as she turned in surprise at the sound.

  Heather smiled at her. “Excuse me?”

  “Olfactory hallucination,” Sue tried to explain. “I was trying to remember… It doesn’t matter. Ignore me.”

  “You think you’re hallucinating?” Heather’s smile faded, and she came into the room, looking around. After a few seconds, she relaxed.

  “I smell cinnamon rolls.” Sue stayed by the window, very aware of how strange this situation continued to be.

  “Oh, that is not a hallucination. That heavenly smell is Lorna baking.” Heather gestured for Sue to come with her. “Why don’t you come down and eat? You have to be starving.”

  “I should get back to my hotel.” Sue looked for a clock but couldn’t find one. “I need to ask them to let me stay longer. My luggage… How long have I been here?”

  “Dicken’s Inn, right?” Heather again motioned that she should follow her.

  “How…?” Sue frowned.

  “Vivien made a few calls.” Heather chuckled. “Seriously, this is a small town. Lodging options are limited. Don’t worry. It’s all been taken care of. I sent Martin—he’s my manfriend—to go pick up your luggage.”

  “I can pay for my room. I don’t need help.” Sue refused to leave the window. She crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t a charity case.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but, sweetie, look at your hand.” Heather leaned against the doorframe.

  Sue glanced at her hand and found the ring was back on her finger. She began to shake.

  “It’s not an accident that you’re here.” Heather moved slowly closer and held out her hands. “I don’t know what or why, but I do know that Julia’s rings are never wrong. They go to those who need them. Like me.”

  Sue didn’t take the offered hands.

  “Like Vivien. Like Lorna. We all needed something, and together we found the answer.” Heather took Sue’s hands in hers. “And now we’re going to help you.”

  At the contact, the shaking stopped. Sue felt a strange sensation filling her as if it flowed from Heather’s hands into her. There was an eagerness to help, but beneath that was the echo of pain.

  “What…?” Sue couldn’t understand what was happening. She felt a dull sadness, but it wasn’t her own. It came from Heather like an emotional beacon.

  “You’re so scared,” Heather whispered. A tear slipped down her cheek. “Oh, I feel it, the fear in you. You’re terrified all the time.”

  Sue snatched her hands back. “No.”

  Heather wiped her tear away. “You’re scared of saying the wrong thing.”

  “No,” Sue denied, even though she knew it was a lie.

  “Of displeasing…who?” Heather again tried to touch her, and Sue sidestepped her.

  “I have no one, so there is no one to displease,” Sue sai
d. “My mother passed years ago. My father disappeared when I was a kid. My husband…”

  Sue shook her head.

  “The car accident you were talking about?” Heather asked.

  “He died,” Sue said.

  “So—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Sue left the room, not knowing where she was going. Seeing stairs, she hurried down them to a landing that split into two directions. She started left and stopped as the smell of cinnamon rolls became stronger. She went right and found herself in the living room by the front door.

  A knock sounded seconds before the door opened. “Delivery!” A man wearing brown work pants and a t-shirt entered carrying her luggage. He’d tucked his dark hair under a black bandana. Seeing Sue, he smiled. “You must be Sue. I’m Martin.”

  Sue took a step back. He had a kind smile but exuded physical strength. Her eyes inadvertently went to his hands on the bag. They were a workman’s hands, rough and scarred and strong.

  “I hope I got everything,” he said.

  “Thank you, hon,” Heather answered for her, thumping down the stairs. She patted Sue on the shoulder lightly as she passed and went to Martin. She gave him a quick kiss. “Would you mind putting them in my room for her?”

  “No,” Sue said, more confident now that she wasn’t alone with Martin. “I can’t stay.”

  “You can’t leave.” Vivien joined them from the dining room.

  “Sorry to drop and run, but I have to pick up January from school,” Martin said. “They just called.”

  Heather frowned. “This early?”

  “Well, ah…” Martin glanced at Sue.

  “Julia sent her to us,” Vivien said. “Sue’s cool.”

  “Someone confronted her about talking to an empty desk,” Martin said. “I guess she was calling it the name of some classmate who died a few years ago before we moved here. Some of the kids took offense and threw a book at Jan. She’s fine, just a little bruised. They thought it best I pick her up.”

  “Bring her here,” Heather said. “We’ll talk to her.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” Martin gave Heather another kiss before rushing out the door.