Elizabeth Basque - Medium Mysteries 02 - Silver Lake

J.R. Rain Presents:

SILVER LAKE

Medium Mysteries #2

by

ELIZABETH

BASQUE

BOOKS BY ELIZABETH BASQUE

STANDALONE BOOKS

Lost Eden (with J.R. Rain)

Judas Silver (with J.R. Rain)

Deal With the Devil (with J.R. Rain)

THE MEDIUM MYSTERIES

Echo Park

Hollywood Hills

Silver Lake

THE SHARPENED EDGES TRILOGY

The Gathering

The Rage

The Hunger

FRANKENSTEIN TRILOGY

I, Monster

Of Monsters and Men

Prometheus Rising

THE WALKING PLAGUE TRILOGY

(with J.R. Rain)

Zombie Patrol

Zombie Rage

Zombie Mountain

VAMPIRE SUPERHERO TRILOGY

(with H.T. Night)

Volume 1

Volume 2

Volume 3

THE MERCY CRUZ SERIES

(with P.J. Day)

Mercy’s Magic

California Witch

Silver Lake

Published by J.R. Rain Press

Copyright © 2014 by Elizabeth Basque

All rights reserved.

Ebook Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. All rights reserved.

Silver Lake

Chapter One

“
What do you mean, the heart is more powerful than the brain?” Julie asked me.

We were sitting at my patio table, as we often did. It was Saturday morning and although there was a slight chill in the air, the clouds were parting and it promised to be a lovely day.

Julie had come a long way since we’d first met. The first time she appeared on my doorstep, she had been a frightened young woman, plagued by nightmares and visions she hoped I could help with, due to my skills as a Medium and Psychic. More than that, she’d been an unassuming woman, lost in life.

Since then, we had become friends, and she wanted to learn more about Mediumship and connecting with the spirit world. She had good reason to.

I ashed my cigarette. “Our brains, our minds help us process thoughts. For many people, the brain processes mostly logical thoughts. What most people don’t know is that the heart has its own mind.”

“
The heart can think?” Julie was coming along in her studies with me, but sometimes, she just didn’t get it.

“
I know it sounds crazy, but I believe so, yes. Think about it. When you feel joy, or sadness, where do you feel those emotions? Do you feel them in your head?”

Julie’s brows drew together. “No, you’re right, Pauline. I feel those things in my heart.”

“The heart has a spirit of its own,” I continued, sipping my coffee. “It’s not all of our soul, but it’s just as connected with the soul as our brain is.”

“
Wow.”

Julie was trying to process this new information.
She’ll get it,
I thought to myself. I left her there for a few moments while I went inside to refill our cups.

It was late morning, so I figured it wouldn’t be too awful to mix a little of my favorite additive into my own coffee.

“I thought you wah layin’ off that,” Mack said suddenly from behind me. I jumped, just a little, and spilled some of the rum.

“
Damn you, look what you made me do,” I snapped at the ghost. “When did you get here? And it’s Saturday. Drop it.”

“
Just trying to keep you honest, my deah,” he said as he floated around to face me.

“
As if I could keep anything from you at all. Nobody’s perfect.”

“
Indeed not,” he answered, folding his arms. “And what’s this nonsense about the haht and the brain?” he asked. “I knew you wuh bonkers, but don’t fill Julie’s head with yuh wild ideas.”

“
Don’t tell me what to do, you old fart. Move. I’m going back outside to enjoy what’s left of the morning.”

“
I think I’ll join you. See if she’s learning anything from you.”

I sighed and poured an extra dash of rum into my cup. Mack didn’t budge, though, and while I didn’t at all enjoy the sensation of moving through spirits—it always chilled my own body—I walked right through him. This act was an insult, an invasion of “ghost space,” but he followed me anyway. Of course.

Back outside on my patio that overlooked Echo Park, I handed Julie a hot cup of coffee. She could tell I was irritated, but to my surprise, she detected the reason for it. Mack appeared as just a hint of a shimmer out in the daylight, but Julie could see his outline. She knew well enough by now that Mack and I bickered like an old married couple. She understood that I loved the old ghost, even if I didn’t know why he had decided to haunt
me,
of all people, practically every day.

“
Why do you irritate her all the time, Mack?” she asked, looking at him.

“
Because I can,” he quipped.

“
Well, we’re enjoying a nice morning, so leave her alone.”

Well.
Julie was sticking up for me. Wonders never ceased.

“
Thank you,” I said. “I don’t have that much time, and I’d like to have a little peace, if you don’t mind.”

“
Ah, yuh class,” Mack mocked. “That’s always fun. But half those people don’t really get it, you know. They pretend to, but I know they don’t.”

“
I know it, too,” I answered. “Does it matter? They
want
to, that’s the important thing to remember. And they pay for these classes.”

“
Well, let me round up the usual suspects,” Mack finally said. “We’ll see you later.”

As he moved toward and through my closed door, I called, “Try to get someone new. Fresh material.” I saw his head nod just once, and he was gone.

Julie shook her head. “I don’t know how you put up with him. I mean, it’s nice to visit with him when I’m here, but jeez. I like my peace and quiet.”

“
He’s been a bit more ornery than usual lately,” I said. “I think he’s feeling a little threatened by these workshops.”

“
I wonder why?”

I had time for another cigarette, so I thought about how to answer as I lit one. “Before I started these Medium classes, I didn’t really talk to anyone. You know I’m a bit of a recluse.”

“And now, you’re becoming more social.”

“
Exactly. Renting out the clubhouse here, meeting people, and making a few friends takes away from time with Mack. I wish he understood.”

“
He must know you need the money,” Julie offered.

Indeed, times were becoming a little tough. People who used to come to me for psychic readings were using their money to pay bills, whether they were being haunted or not. So, I began to hold classes, workshops, really, on honing psychic skills and learning about becoming a Medium. Of course, to rent the clubhouse down in the basement of my apartment complex, I’d had to write down “spirituality” for the purpose of these meetings, but that wasn’t really a lie, was it?

“What about me?” Julie asked. “Does he see me as a threat, as you call it?”

I laughed. “Mack loves you, Jules. Ever since you helped out with Carla and Michael, he’s had a great respect for you.”

Carla and Michael were two souls who had not gone Home, as most people did when they died. Julie had played a big part in helping me send them. Mack had helped, too. Carla had stayed here on Earth because she was linked to Julie. That was when Julie and I first met, when she’d come to me for help. Michael was the first soul I’d met who’d never been offered the Light, the invitation to go Home. He had killed Carla and her mother, and then himself.

It had been a challenge for us to set things right so that Carla and Michael could finally go Home. I didn’t really do much but use my skills as both Medium and mediator, but ever since then, Julie and I had become friends. She attended my classes, and we also worked one on one, because she wanted so badly to be able to connect with the spirit world. As I said, she had her reasons for that. Important reasons.

“No, Jules,” I continued our conversation, “you’d know if Mack didn’t like you. At the very least, he wouldn’t talk to you at all. If he really hated you, he’d be over at your place, creating havoc. He could probably drive a person crazy.”

“
Well, thank God,” Julie said. “I like him, too. But why is he still around? Have you found out yet?”

“
I’m trying to,” I answered with a sigh. “I’ve asked him. I’ve done some research, but he really doesn’t want me to know. Don’t worry, I won’t give up on him. Eventually, he will go Home.”

“
Right. Well, I’ve got a few errands to run before the class.” She finished her coffee, and I downed mine and stubbed out my cigarette. We stood and headed back inside.

After Julie left, I still had a little time before the class. I’d gotten in the habit of reading the newspaper again. I hated watching the news on TV; it was too depressing. However, the great thing about newspapers was that you could read what you wanted. You didn’t have to be bombarded with whatever the TV media decided you should hear about over and over.

So, I sat on my comfy couch, tucked my feet under me and opened the paper. I’d gotten in the habit of reading the sports page, thanks to Mack. I would often leave that out for him so he could read it.

And I didn’t find the obituaries as sad as most people did. Ghosts were my business, my career, and I took an interest in who had transitioned to the next phase of life.

Today, I also read the engagement announcements. It was kind of fun to learn about who was marrying whom in the LA/Hollywood world. I took these announcements with a grain of salt, understanding that most of the announcements were for the rich, those who could afford to pay for them. And, of course, I reminded myself that half the marriages today ended in divorce. What a waste of money, I thought. I tried to remind myself that these were supposed to be happy announcements, joyful news. All those couples were dressed up, smiling, and anticipating a life of bliss together. I could do with a little less pessimism, I supposed.

Then I gasped. One photo and announcement in particular made my jaw drop. I took a closer look  and read out loud: “Exotic beauty and model, Lana Costa, is engaged to billionaire and Silver Lake investment property mogul, Garrett Mackenzie. The couple met on holiday only six months ago, but Mackenzie proposed last week, saying he has found the woman of his dreams…” I glanced back to the photo.

“Oh, my God.” They were a fine-looking couple, no doubt about that. She was indeed an exotic beauty. Garrett was very handsome. But his face. The way he tilted his head, and raised his eyebrows just so, smiling into the camera. His dark, curly hair was seemingly untamable. Even the shape of his torso struck me as familiar.

He was the spitting image of Mack.

Chapter Two

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I couldn’t stop saying out loud. I paced back and forth, willing Julie to answer her phone.

“
Hello?” Finally, Julie did answer. “Pauline? What’s up?”

“
Get back here,” I told her. “I need you to cover the class. I have something that can’t wait.”

“
Cover your class! I don’t know how to do that.” Julie’s voice was stressed. It didn’t matter.

“
Of course you can, Julie.”

“
But why? Everything was fine when I left. What happened?” She was almost whining now. I loved Jules, but I could do without the whine.

“
I just have something that can’t wait. I don’t want to talk about it just yet, but I will later. Can you come now? I’ll give you my notes. It’ll be easy. I promise you.”

An hour later, I had calmed down, and I greeted the six or seven class participants at the clubhouse door with Julie. I’d explained to Julie what to do, what to talk about. “Just give them encouragement, keep everyone focused,” I told her. “Maybe Mack’s new friends will connect with some of them.”

Mack was there, with a couple of ghosts I’d never seen before. One was an old woman, and the other, a man in his fifties.

I waited until everyone was seated in the chairs that were set into a circle. “Hi,” I said as brightly as I could. “And, thank you for coming. Today’s class will be led by Julie. You all know her. She’s been working with me for a while now, and I’m sure you’ll be in good hands.”

A couple of doubtful looks came my way, but most accepted this and nodded their assent. I continued, “Julie will lead you in a clearing meditation, like we always do. And, I must tell you, we have a couple of new souls here today. I trust you will make some kind of contact.”

Mack was surprised that I had Julie taking over the day’s class. One of my more gifted students could actually see Mack, and observed Mack’s disapproval. I ignored the student’s curiosity.

“Have a wonderful time,” I called enthusiastically over my shoulder as I crossed the room and exited, leaving Julie, I could tell, feeling a bit overwhelmed. However, I had faith in her.

On the other side of the closed door, I whispered, “Mack! Mack, I need to talk with you.”

He floated through the closed door, hovering above me. He hovered above when he wanted a little distance. Sometimes, I wished I could do that. Oh, the benefits of being a ghost.

The newspaper announcement prickled at me. Not only was I certain I’d learned something about Mack that he never intended to tell me, but something was nagging at me to communicate about this with him. And I didn’t want him to read my thoughts. I wanted a discussion.

“What’s got yuh panties in a wad now?” he asked.

“
I need to show you something,” I told him as I walked briskly to the elevator. The door slid open and he followed me in as I pushed the button for the first floor.

I could feel him trying to probe my mind. “Stop it,” I snapped.

Mack stopped. He understood that I wasn’t easily upset, and he knew me well enough to respect my wishes when I was serious about something.

I didn’t say another word until we were in my apartment. And then, I couldn’t think of how to begin.

“I need a cigarette,” I announced, and began making myself a martini. I didn’t care what time it was.