he floated next to Gram and kept an eye on Heather and Missy.
“Hoooooooookaaah dieeah foooor yooouah,” Birdie said, pointing to Missy.
My stomach dropped. There was no way Missy was going to die for me. Talking to Birdie was imperative. I just hoped I could find out what I needed to know with the Ouija board, since mind diving was on hold for the time being.
Chapter Nine
“You think I’m nuts, don’t you,” Missy said, drying off a platter and putting it back up in the slotted cabinet over the oven.
We were alone in the kitchen. Gram had let Birdie know under no uncertain terms that she needed to back off of Missy. Birdie called Gram a few unmentionable words with the F-bomb attached to all of them, then floated away in a huff. Candy, Tim and Heather had taken the dogs out to do their business.
“No. I don’t think you’re nuts,” I told her, handing her another plate. “I think Tim is nuts and Candy Vargo is a close second.”
“Speaking of… what made you invite them today?”
How to answer that question… Lying was out, but so was the entire truth.
Peeking out of the kitchen window to make sure they were out of earshot, I continued to wash the dirty dishes. “They both need friends,” I told Missy truthfully. “Tim and I have been chatting lately and I feel sorry for him. And Candy? I can’t really explain it. I just feel like no one has ever paid much attention to her, and it makes me sad. She and Tim kind of remind me of the broken presents on the Island of Misfit Toys. I figured our group would be a safe place for them. So, if anyone is nuts, it’s me.”
Missy eyed me for a long moment then grinned. “Dude, I love you so much.”
“Right back at you.”
“So, the Soul Keeper thing didn’t freak you out?” she asked, sitting down at the table and munching on a cookie.
“Nope. Didn’t freak me out. Is it true?” I asked, drying off my hands and joining her.
She shrugged and laughed. “No. At least I don’t think so, but it’s a fun story.”
“What does a fictional Soul Keeper do?” I asked casually as I filled up four plastic containers with cookies for Candy, Tim, Heather and Missy to take home. There was no way I was keeping dozens of June’s peanut butter cookies. I would eat every one of them.
Missy plopped her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. “As the legend goes, a Soul Keeper is a safe place for souls to reside before they leave this realm. They come to the Keeper when they’re not safe elsewhere.”
It was an odd statement. My breath caught strangely in my throat. I covered it with a cough. “Why would a soul not be safe?”
“The only stories I ever heard were from my great-granny on my mother’s side when I was little. The family said she was insane and put her away in a home when I was around seven. I thought she was magical. I adored her,” Missy said with a faraway gleam in her eyes. “She was beautiful—dark black skin and wild gray curls. Her eyes twinkled and she had a laugh that made me feel loved.”
“What were the stories?” I was sure the answer was important. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but I was going with my gut. Gram and Steve had insisted Missy stay. Maybe this fictional tale was precisely why.
“Oh, they were silly, but I used to hang on her every word,” she said. “Apparently, a soul will come to a Keeper when an Angel wishes it ill.”
“An Angel?” I asked, happy I was seated because my knees went weak.
“Yep. Read the Bible. Angels are not always the good guys.”
No kidding. That was the understatement of the century.
“Does it happen a lot—that a soul needs to be hidden from an Angel?” I asked.
“Don’t know.” Missy squinted at me. “Do you believe in this kind of stuff? I thought you were agnostic.”
“Up until recently, I thought I was atheist,” I admitted. “After Steve died, I didn’t believe in anything.”
Missy was quiet for a long moment. “What made you change your mind?”
“You’re going to think I’ve lost it,” I told her.
“Umm, I just told you that I feel dead people walking on my grave and about the family lore of Soul Keepers. Don’t think much is stranger than that.”
She was so very wrong.
“Dreams,” I said. It was the