An Unhappy Medium Read online

  “That’s great, then,” Seth said. “Practically the whole town is involved in the run, they’ll all vote for it.”

  Alex nodded. “I think you’re right, but Lloyd will play up the whole dignified angle. He thinks the zombies will lend a kitschy, casual feel to the weekend. Plus he thinks it might attract the ‘wrong element,’ whatever that is.”

  I wondered if Lloyd was right based on what I had seen earlier today in town. There were certainly more people wandering the streets than I would have expected. And the idea that they were coming because of the recent murders worried me. I didn’t want Crystal Haven to become known for its tragedies.

  Alex walked to the couch and flung himself onto it next to Seth. The two of them sighed.

  I shifted into jollying mode. “It’s going to be fine,” I said. “I’ll tell Vi to get her cronies together and start a phone tree—we’ll call around and be sure we have a good turnout of supporters. What time is the meeting?”

  “Eight,” Alex said.

  “Don’t forget, Nana Rose wants us to come to dinner tonight,” I said to Seth. “You’re invited as well, Alex.”

  “I can’t tonight. I have to get ready for the meeting,” Seth whined.

  “Clyde, we really need to prepare,” Alex said. “I can feed him something at the restaurant and we can meet you at eight.”

  I tilted my head toward the kitchen and raised an eyebrow at Alex.

  He sighed, pushed himself off the couch, and followed me out of the living room.

  “Don’t let her bully you!” Seth shouted after us.

  Alex’s reaction to the news of Grace’s arrival was much the same as Diana’s. He knew her less well than Diana, having moved to Crystal Haven just a year or so before Grace left. I felt guilty that his impressions of my sister were from unflattering stories of our childhood. She was nine years older than me, and I’m sure my teenaged view of her had been a heady mixture of hero worship and abandonment anger.

  “Okay, we’re going to your grandmother’s for dinner,” Alex said to Seth when we reentered the living room.

  Seth nodded. “You always let her win,” he grumbled.

  “It’ll be fine,” Alex said. “I’ll see you guys over there at six.”

  Alex let himself out and Seth crossed his arms and frowned at me.

  I frowned back and dialed Vi’s cell phone. After I had explained the problem to her, I turned the phone over to Seth and the two of them plotted their strategy and made lists of who to call to be sure the vote went in their favor. I used the landline to call Diana and got her working as well. I wouldn’t have put it past Lloyd to selectively inform people of his emergency meeting—we needed to be sure everyone knew, and not just his anti-zombie crew.

  At five thirty, we finished all the phone calls just as I heard Mac’s truck pull into the driveway.

  The wooden porch echoed his footsteps and the dogs ran to the door, Tuffy barking like a lunatic and Baxter already wiggling his entire body. Mac could never enter the house without a full-on welcome from the dogs. He’d been living here for more than two months but they still acted like he was visiting royalty.

  Seth hopped up from the couch and gave Mac a quick wave in passing as he went upstairs to change before dinner.

  “Hi, Seth,” Mac said over the exuberance of the dogs.

  I waded into the melee, sent Tuffy upstairs with Seth, and told Baxter to go lie down. Both dogs sighed heavily but did what they were told.

  I stepped forward to greet Mac in my own way and I tried to enjoy the moment before the stress of the rest of the evening began.

  “How was your day?” I asked. I kept my arms around his waist, looked up into his blue eyes, and noted the lines of fatigue and worry at the corners.

  “We wrapped up the case, finally,” he said. “So I’m caseless for now.” He ran a hand over short blond hair and smiled, transforming the creases of concern into happy crinkles. “I’ll be all ready for the zombie run as long as nothing comes in for the next couple of days.”

  “About that,” I said. I released him and crossed my arms. “Lloyd Munson has called an emergency town meeting for tonight.”

  “But I thought we had to go to your mom’s place for dinner,” he said. He lowered his voice and glanced up the stairs. “Is Grace in town yet?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Vi said she’d text me if they arrived early. They want us there at six and think Grace will get there around six fifteen.”

  “When is Lloyd’s meeting?” Mac looked at his watch.

  “Eight, at the Reading Room.”

  “What’s so urgent that he needs to call a meeting now? I’m not getting involved in the reenactment no matter what he says.” Mac held up his hands like I was the one trying to rope him into wearing 1850s clothing and pretending to be an early townsperson.

  “He’s protesting the zombie run. He thinks it’s unseemly.”

  Mac and I stepped into the living room and sat on the couch after displacing Baxter.

  “He already had his chance. He was voted down.” Baxter laid his head on Mac’s knee and gazed up at him.

  “I think he hopes the supporters will conveniently not attend and the second vote will go through.”

  Mac stood up abruptly, dislodging Baxter and earning an irritated sniff from the dog. “I’ll talk to him. This is ridiculous.”

  I grabbed his hand and pulled him to sit next to me. “It’s fine. We’ve got it covered. All of the zombie run participants will be there and he’ll be voted down again. The whole thing will take ten minutes, and then Lloyd will have to accept it as a done deal.”

  Mac glanced at his watch again. “I’d better change if we need to be there at six.”

  Ten minutes later, Mac, Seth, and I clipped leashes on the dogs and set out for the two-block walk to my mom’s. We walked up the long gravel drive, our shoes crunching the small stones. Seth scuffed his feet and kicked up rocks and dust.

  Surrounded by tall aspens that lent a gloom to the yard even on a sunny day, my parent’s house looked haunted, an impression my mother did nothing to alleviate. A gray Victorian, with steeply pitched eaves, the spires and vertical white accents made it seem taller than it’s three stories. Its wraparound porch brought to mind simpler times, but I could never shake the feeling of someone watching from the shadows.

  Vi greeted us at the door and ushered us quickly into the living room.

  “Your mother is having a freak-out in the kitchen. Something about the gravy not thickening,” she said. She lowered her voice, “She wants everything to be perfect. As if a pot roast will fix everything between her and Grace. I’d stay in here if I were you.” She gestured toward the living room, an abomination of excess Victorian décor.

  We sat stiffly on the Victorian-era couches that contained too many fringed pillows to accommodate actual people. The large clock on the mantel ticked each second in its melancholy fashion as Mac, Seth, and I tried not to knock over any of Mom’s knickknacks.

  Dad wandered in looking befuddled, but brightened when he saw us. “Where’s your mother?” he asked. He was normally a little taller than me, at five foot ten. And his shock of white hair added a couple of inches, but tonight he was hunched and worried looking. He wore khakis and a plaid button-down shirt with a wool vest. The vest marked it as dressing up and I could only assume it was for Grace’s arrival.

  “Vi says Mom’s having a crisis in the kitchen,” I told him.

  “Oh, we’d better stay out of there,” he said. “Is Vi with her?”

  “I think so,” I said. “She told us to wait here and hurried off into the other room.”

  Dad sat on the edge of one of the armchairs. We settled into an uncomfortable silence. A crash from the kitchen made us all jump. The doorbell rang.

  Dad hopped up and hurried to the door.

 
“Oh, hello, Alex,” Dad said. “They’re all in here.”

  Dad led Alex into the room and stepped back out again. Alex said hello to Mac and me.

  “I think we’ll be fine tonight, Seth,” Alex said. “We’ve got plenty of zombie runners coming. Don’t worry,”

  The doorbell rang again.

  “Jeez, how many people are coming to dinner tonight?” Seth asked.

  Dad’s voice floated in from the dining room. “Can you get that, Seth?”

  Seth sighed dramatically.

  Mac and I exchanged a look and followed Seth into the front hall.

  Seth swung the door open and his face froze in a half smile.

  “Mom? Dad? Soph?”

  I caught a glimpse of Grace’s long honey blonde hair as she stepped forward to hug Seth.

  “I missed you so much, sweetheart,” she said.

  Seth looked embarrassed. He glanced at me and then back to his mom. “I missed you, too.”

  Within seconds the front hall was filled with excited squeals of welcome as Mom and Vi hurried out from the kitchen. Paul and Sophie took turns hugging Seth and between all the handshaking and hugging, the dogs wove in and out of the crowd in their own brand of greeting.

  “It’s good to see you, Clyde,” Grace said as she hugged me tightly. I was enveloped in a cloud of Chanel No. 5. I had to take a step back to steady myself when she released me. Paul shook Mac’s hand as Grace introduced them. And Alex got dragged into the greetings when Grace noticed him standing in the doorway.

  Paul had never been to Crystal Haven, and Vi insisted on a tour of the house. She sent Seth and Mac upstairs with the bags while she dragged Paul down the hall to her apartment.

  My feeling of unease had only intensified now that Grace was here. Her presence in the house where I had grown up had me on edge. Knowing that she had shunned Crystal Haven made me feel protective of it. So far, she was acting unusually bright and happy. It was a testament to my worry that I was miffed she was being so pleasant. I stood off to the side with Alex and watched as my mother and aunt fawned over Sophie and quizzed Grace on the flight.

  “It was just fine, Mom,” Grace said. “No troubles.”

  Seth and Mac returned just as Vi reentered with Paul.

  “Well, dinner is ready,” Mom said. “Let’s eat and we can hear all about the trip.”

  We tromped into the dining room, with the dogs close on our heels.

  Chairs shifted as the new guests shuffled into the usual seating arrangement. Sophie displaced Dad, who usually sat next to Seth. She hadn’t taken her eyes off him since she’d arrived. At seven years old, she idolized her older brother. I wondered if that was how I used to look at Grace—naked hero worship and adoration on display.

  “Just a little for me, Mom,” Grace said. “I’m cutting back on meat.”

  Mom stopped, her spoon midway between the platter and Grace’s plate. A large drip of gravy fell on the tablecloth. I could have kicked Grace. Didn’t she recognize Mom’s peace offering? Mom took a rejection of her food very personally. Fortunately Seth didn’t notice the tension.

  “I can’t believe you guys are here,” Seth said with a wide grin. He shoved his plate toward Mom and gestured that she should fill it up. “What about work?”

  Paul took a breath to speak but Grace put her hand over his. “Don’t worry about us, Seth. We’ve got the whole weekend to enjoy your zombie extravaganza.”

  “I want to be on your team, Seth,” Sophie said.

  “You’ve always been a fast runner,” Seth said. “Do you think you can outrun Aunt Vi and her zombies?”

  “Sure I can!” Sophie bounced in her seat and held up three fingers. “I’m the third-fastest girl in my class.”

  “You’ll certainly give Vi a run for her money,” Dad said.

  “What money, Papa?” Sophie said. She wrinkled her brow at Dad.

  “It’s just an expression, sweetheart,” Grace said. “It just means you’ll be good competition.”

  “It sounds like Seth will get Grace and Sophie for his team—do you need any more zombies?” Paul asked Vi.

  “Of course I do!” Vi said. “I knew this would work out just great. You can be our pirate zombie. Rupert Worthington was going to do it and then decided he wanted to be a doctor zombie instead. It’s really no good without a pirate.”

  “Aargh! I’d be happy to be a pirate,” Paul said.

  Sophie giggled.

  Detailed discussions of the costumes and makeup techniques ensued. The rest of us tried to focus on our food while Vi described how to make realistic looking blood and melting flesh. It wasn’t easy.

  “I’m really going to enjoy getting to know Crystal Haven this weekend,” Paul said when Vi finally fell silent.

  Mom beamed at him and offered more pot roast. Paul held up his hand and patted his slim stomach. Mom’s smile wilted, but Seth saved the moment by shoving his plate forward. I wondered if he was more aware of the undercurrents than I thought.

  “Can I have extra gravy, Nana Rose?” Seth said as she piled more meat and potatoes on his plate. “How do you make it so smooth?”

  The corner of Mom’s mouth twitched upward. Vi kept her eyes glued to her plate, but I could tell she was smiling.

  “What’s so funny, Vi?” Grace said.

  “Nothing,” Vi said. “Sometimes I think funny things.”

  “I do that, too,” Sophie said. She nodded seriously at Vi.

  “Sophie has a great sense of humor.” Grace smiled at her daughter. “Why don’t you tell Nana Rose that knock-knock joke?”

  Sophie launched into a string of knock-knock jokes and I tuned in to the conversation between Dad and Paul.

  “My new scanner can get signals from Grand Rapids and sometimes I even pick up stuff from the Indiana border,” Dad said.

  “So you listen to the police reports? As a hobby?” Paul failed to cover his surprise.

  Dad lowered his voice. “Not always. Sometimes I just go and think my own thoughts without anyone trying to predict my next move.”

  Mac chuckled at this and Paul smiled.

  “I’m very lucky Grace can only tap into the stock market,” Paul said. “At least my thoughts are safe.”

  “As far as you know,” Grace said. She grinned at Paul.

  Mom’s eyebrows rose and she looked at Grace.

  “No, Mom,” Grace sighed. “I haven’t developed any more psychic ability.”

  “Oh. Well, you don’t need it,” Mom said. “You seem to be doing just fine.”

  Grace looked down and moved her food around her plate.

  Sophie broke the uncomfortable silence. “Can you really read minds, Nana Rose?”

  Mom was in midsip and coughed on her water. “Read minds?” She glanced at Grace. “No, hon. I can read tarot cards, but I can’t tell what you’re thinking. Except, of course, after dinner when I know you’re thinking about either ice cream or cookies.”

  Sophie grinned. “I might be thinking about both!”

  “Just as I predicted,” Mom said.

  Everyone laughed except Seth, who was so focused on his food a tornado wouldn’t have distracted him.

  Paul sat back in his chair and watched Seth devour a second helping of everything.

  “How’s school going, Seth?” Paul asked.

  Seth looked up and mumbled, “Fine.” He continued to work his way through his food.

  I knew better than to try to get any information out of Seth when he was eating, but Paul continued.

  “Are your classmates interesting?” Paul sipped his water and watched Seth over the rim of his glass.

  I sensed a ripple of tension between Grace and Paul but didn’t understand why.

  “Yeah, they’re great. I also have a friend, Logan, who volunteers at the animal shelter with me. H
e goes to a different school. He learned how to surf last summer and he says he’ll teach me when the water warms up this year.”

  “Tell us about the animal shelter, Seth,” Grace said.

  Seth finished up his last bite and pushed his plate away. He shrugged, and looked down at his lap. “I like it there. The animals need people to feed them and play with them and I feel like I’m helping.”

  “It’s not cutting into your schoolwork?” Paul asked. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

  Seth shook his head. “No, I’m doing fine.”

  Paul watched Seth carefully. “Have they started to teach you new stuff or are you still just reviewing?”

  “It was only review for a little while, it’s all new now.”

  Grace put her hand on Paul’s wrist. He looked at her quickly and sat back in his chair.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re settling in, Seth,” Paul said. He picked up his wineglass and finished it off in one long swallow. “Grace described it as the quaintest town in Michigan and so far I’d have to agree.”

  I caught a smirk pass between them before Grace covered her mouth with a napkin.

  Grace turned toward Mac. “Clyde tells me you’re all better after the shooting incident. Do you think you’ll stay here in Crystal Haven now that you’ve recovered?”

  The table fell silent. It was understood by everyone except Grace, apparently, that Mac did not like to talk about his injury. His leg hardly bothered him anymore, but I knew that no police officer leaves a shooting incident completely intact. The bullet is what had brought him back to Crystal Haven, but I knew I was the reason he stayed. Mac only ever discussed it with me and I didn’t want him to think I had been telling my sister anything about his personal business.

  He gently put down his fork and gave Grace a tight smile. “I have no plans to leave. I prefer quaint these days.”

  Grace had always been good at mentioning the one thing a person didn’t want to talk about and then either ignoring or missing the signal to let it go. But even she picked up on Mac’s reluctance to continue the conversation.

  “Mac has been really busy recently,” Vi said. “We even had to help him on a couple of his cases.”