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  Matt caught my eye, then nodded and patted Jill’s hand. “I think so. I’m in Bend for the next two weeks. When do you leave?”

  “Next week,” Jill practically howled. “Oh no! I’m not ready for good-byes. I thought we were having fun pints.”

  “We are.” Matt’s tone was reassuring. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to let our little Megs travel all the way to Italy alone.”

  “You’re not?” Now it was my turn to sound surprised.

  Matt grinned and reached for his laptop bag. “Nope.” He pulled out a mini iPad and clicked it on. Jill gave me a look as if to ask what he was doing. I shrugged. Her guess was as good as mine.

  He pushed the chips and salsa to the side and placed the tablet in the center of the table so we could all see. Giving me an impish smile, he nodded to the screen. “I already bought my ticket—Christmas break in Italy. You two aren’t going to leave me stuck here in the rain. I’m crashing your party. If you’re having a European adventure, I’m tagging along.”

  “You are?” I almost kissed him. “I can’t believe it.”

  “We’ve been best friends since college. Why wouldn’t you think I would come along? Actually, now that I think about it, I’m offended that you two didn’t even invite me.”

  “You’re invited!” Jill jumped out of her chair and squeezed him in a hug. “You’re always invited.”

  Matt beamed as Jill returned to her seat. “Now that’s the kind of reception I was hoping for.”

  I picked up the iPad and scrolled through Matt’s ticket info. He had booked the same flight as me. “How did you know?” I asked.

  He gave me an impish smile. “I have my ways.”

  “What, like hacking my laptop?”

  “Maybe.”

  Regardless of how Matt had figured out my flight to Italy, I was thrilled that he was coming with me. Jill, Matt, and me for a week in Italy over Christmas break—nothing could be better.

  I filled them in on the latest with Northwest Extreme, including how tense things were with the upcoming arrival of the Japanese investors from Hoshino.

  “Do you really think Greg will sell?” Jill asked, dipping a chip in salsa.

  “It looks that way. He says he’s keep his options open, but everyone on staff is looking for jobs.”

  “All the more reason to come to Bend,” Matt said. He had finished his beer. “Are we getting another round?”

  Jill nodded. “If this is our last happy hour for a few months, then I’m all in.”

  “Me too,” I agreed. I wanted to visit Gam, but the night was young and we were too.

  Chapter 4

  By the time Matt, Jill, and I finished our second beers and polished off a plate of street tacos, the light was starting to fade. We’d spent three hours reminiscing and telling stories of our college days and adventures in our early twenties. I still couldn’t believe our little threesome was breaking up, but I felt better knowing that we’d have an Italian reunion soon.

  Jill fought back tears as she hugged Matt good-bye. He put on a brave face, but I watched his shoulders slump slightly as he walked toward his truck.

  “We’ll see each other this week, right?”

  “For sure.” I squeezed her arm. “I’m all yours until Thursday, and then I’ll be back in time to see you off at the airport next week.”

  “Right.” She wiped a tear from her bloodshot eyes. “I’m not crazy for doing this, am I, Meg?”

  “Jill,” I said, giving her my best Mother voice, “the second you land in Italy you’re going to forget all about Portland. Trust me, this is absolutely the right thing. You are NOT crazy!”

  She held me tight. “You’re the best, you know?”

  “I know.” I tried to break the seriousness of the moment.

  “Whatevs.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll text you. Maybe you can come over after work and help me decide what to bring.”

  “You got it.” I waved and headed for my car. I knew that Jill was just looking for an excuse to hang out. She was in no need of fashion advice. Her style was gorgeous and timeless. We made a unique pair. Jill tended toward natural colors in earth tones with long lines and swooping necklines. I went for color—pink, teal, mint green, yellow—you name it, I wore it. Of course, I preferred pink above all else, and vintage flare skirts with capped-sleeve cardigans. Mother always said I was born in the wrong period.

  Speaking of Mother, I needed to see her before I left for Bend. Our relationship was complicated to say the very least, but I owed her a lunch. Usually I love lunch, but with Mother, lunch is a production. She likes to lunch with her ladies at the club. I knew nothing would please her more than to get to show me off to her friends, but we needed to hash some things out just between us.

  I hated to admit it, but she’d been right—about a lot. For starters, about Gam and Sheriff Daniels. Mother hadn’t trusted him from the beginning. I assumed it was because his cowboy attire and gruff nature weren’t up to her society club standards, but after things went south with Gam and the sheriff, Mother may have been more astute than I’d given her credit for. I wondered if the same was true for Pops’ death. Since he died, I’d been blaming Mother for just about everything.

  In fairness, our relationship was rocky long before Pops died. Mother and I have never really found our stride. Pops and I had an easygoing friendship. Even though he was my father, he was also my mentor and a friend. Mother saw it as her duty to be the “responsible” parent. That meant that she spent most of her time criticizing how I looked, what I wore, and my tendency to disappear into my books and journals. She didn’t understand me the way that Pops had. Losing him made that much more evident and made the rift between us grow even wider. Pops had acted as a buffer between us, but without him I didn’t need her negative voice in my head.

  I’d come to realize that blaming her wasn’t helping me feel any better. In fact, it was probably making things worse. And then there was the issue of the bomb that she dropped on me. She told me that I had it all wrong—she hadn’t left Pops. He left her. At first I’d been so angry with her I was fuming, but after I calmed down and allowed myself to think things through, I knew that she was right. That was exactly the kind of thing that Pops would have done. When he was working on a story he became the story. It drove Mother crazy, and it made me want to follow in his footsteps. His commitment to the truth was so ferocious that he would do anything to get to the bottom of a story, even if that meant disappearing for days at a time or going undercover so deep that no one recognized him.

  Nerves welled in my stomach at the thought of talking all of this through with Mother, but I owed it to Pops and myself to talk to her as an adult.

  Growing up sucks.

  I drove down Vancouver’s charming Main Street and turned on Evergreen Boulevard. The route to Gam’s condo brought back memories of a mud race that I had competed in a few weeks ago—Mud, Sweat, and Beers. I’d been nervous about the endurance and military style mud race, but as things turned out, mud had been the least of my worries. I drove past our training ground by the old army hospital at Fort Vancouver, which was most definitely haunted. The entire time I trained for the mud run I had watched for ghosts over my shoulder when I ran past the abandoned brick building. Then my trainer dropped dead, and I found myself watching over my shoulder for a real killer.

  You survived that, Meg, I told myself as I turned down the hill toward the waterfront where Gam’s condo and the bookstore, Love and Light, are located. If I could survive a muddy obstacle run and training with a killer, then I could survive lunch with Mother.

  Growing up I wondered how it was that Gam and Mother are related. Gam is the opposite of Mother in every way, with one exception—they both love to shop at Nordstrom. However, Mother likes to wear name-brand designer clothes to impress her friends (or as Jill and I like to call them, “ladies who lunch”), and Gam likes to wear flowing tunics and casual black pants and skirts. Gam is short with jet-black hair and huge brown eyes.
No one ever pegs her for seventy-four. She could easily pass for someone much younger. She claimed that her youthful skin was the result of a cosmic face-lift. “Daily meditation is good for your brain and essential for your beauty,” she would say. That and the fact that she always wore red lipstick and plenty of eye shadow.

  Gam and Mother don’t seem to have the same struggles as Mother and I do. Maybe it’s just that they’re older and they’ve learned to hide it better. Or maybe it’s because Gam is a model of calm and she doesn’t let Mother get under her skin the way I do.

  I sighed and parked the car. Gam wasn’t expecting me, although she’s so in tune with the Universe that I had a feeling when I knocked on her door that she would have a plate of cookies waiting for me.

  Gam’s condo was easy to spot. Each condo in the development was situated on the Columbia River with large decks and stunning views of the water and Mt. Hood. Most of the decks looked uniform with white Adirondack chairs and pots with red geraniums. Not Gam’s. Gam’s deck was alive with color and movement. Wind chimes dinged delightful melodies in the slight wind; yellow, blue, purple, and green garden art added pops of color to the patio; and hummingbirds darted between bright red feeders that hung at every corner.

  I smiled and rounded the corner to the front of Gam’s condo. A welcome mat on her front step read, LIVE LOVE. That was Gam’s philosophy for life. However, I knew that at the moment, Gam’s love life had taken a major hit. When I last visited her, she had been packing up her condo to move in with Sheriff Daniels. I noticed a stack of cardboard boxes broken down and ready to be recycled by her front door. Obviously, her plans had changed.

  I knocked on the door. Usually Gam anticipates my arrival and is waiting for me with a sweet treat and a bright smile. Tonight it took a few minutes for her to answer.

  “Margaret.” She stepped back with a look of surprise. “I didn’t know that you were coming.” Her voice sounded dejected, as if she was scolding herself for not knowing.

  “I know. I wanted to surprise you. I met Matt and Jill for happy hour over here.”

  Clapping her hands, she smiled, but I noticed that her eyes didn’t hold their usual sparkle. “What a lovely surprise. Come in.” She wrapped me in a hug and then we walked up the stairs to her living room. “You look adorable as always. I love this skirt.” She fluffed the knee-length layer of tulle.

  Her condo was three stories with a garage and mudroom on the ground floor. The second floor had an open concept design. The living room opened onto a spacious patio with colorful bird feeders, potted plants, sundials, and windsocks. There was a gas fireplace in the corner, and a large dining room and kitchen. Gam was the best cook I knew. Everything in her kitchen was homemade, and she had a particular affinity for baking cakes, cookies, and bread.

  “You moved the couch,” I noted.

  Gam swept her hands around the room. “I cleared the energy and asked for guidance before I put anything away.”

  As an energy healer Gam taps into her intuition and her “team” of guides, as she calls them. Regardless of personal beliefs, there’s no doubting that Gam transports herself to another dimension when she closes her eyes and rocks slightly from side to side. Mother is a skeptic. I’m a believer—at least partly—and whenever I’m around Gam it’s impossible not to feel surrounded by a powerful sense of calm.

  “What do you think?” Gam asked, pointing to a collection of rocks near the fireplace. “I think the flow is better.”

  “It looks great.” It did, but to be honest I couldn’t tell the difference in flow. Everything around Gam flowed with ease.

  “Have a seat.” She pointed to the couch. “I’m afraid that I’ve been so busy putting everything back into place that I haven’t done any baking. Can I get you a glass of water or some juice?”

  “I’m fine, Gam,” I said, taking a seat on her plush purple couch. Gam loves the color purple as much as I love pink. Teal and purple accents dotted the walls and bookshelves in her living room. She had collections of earthen pottery, Native American drums, bowls overflowing with crystals and gemstones, and artwork of owls and eagles. The space was equally eclectic and homey—just like Gam.

  “How are you doing?” I asked.

  She sat next to me. “I’m fine, and I don’t want you worrying about me, Margaret.”

  “That’s not fair,” I protested. “You worry about me all the time. I can worry about you.”

  Laughing, she patted my hand. “Good point.” A glassy look came over her eyes. “I know that I will have a deep learning and understanding about what happened, but at the moment I’m just so damn mad.”

  “Gam! Language.” I cracked up.

  Her face softened. “Sorry.”

  “I’m kidding. I’m angry too. In fact, if you want to me to go find Sheriff Daniels and punch him in the face, I’ll be happy to.”

  Gam shook her head. “I’m not angry with him. I’m angry with myself.”

  “Why?”

  “You know that I take my work seriously. I’m always advising my clients and you to go within and use your inner wisdom before making any big decisions. I didn’t do that this time. I leapt in, and look what’s happened.” She sighed.

  “But, Gam, you didn’t know.”

  “I did, Margaret.” Her voice sounded faraway. She folded a brilliant sapphire silk scarf that rested on the arm of her chair. It had an intricate peacock design and long tassels.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I knew. I chose to ignore my inner voice and the messages I received from my guides.” She ran her hand over the scarf. “I’m sure that is the lesson here. It’s a teaching opportunity for me, and I fully believe that I’ll come out the other side with a better sense of knowing, but for right now I’m mad at myself.”

  “Gam, you are the wisest person I know. You’re allowed to make a mistake every once in a while.”

  A smile tugged at her cheeks. “Thank you, darling.”

  “What happened anyway? I mean, if you don’t want to talk about it it’s okay.”

  Gam took a deep breath through her nose. “We weren’t a match.”

  I wasn’t used to Gam withholding information from me. There was something that she wasn’t saying, and I wasn’t sure if that was because she was trying to shield me or if it was too painful for her to talk about.

  “Did something happen in Bend?”

  She closed her eyes for a minute and then nodded as if she had received confirmation from a question that she had asked. “There is a darkness around the sheriff. I saw it the first time I did work on him. Remember how he came to me with his back pain?”

  I nodded.

  “There was a black ball of energy swirling in his lower back. At first I was concerned, but I called on my guides, and when I put my hands on it I saw the most beautiful image. It was as if a waterfall of gold and green light in tiny, brilliant specs gushed into the blackness holding on to him and burst it apart. It was powerful and intense.”

  Gam is a Reiki master and uses the ancient healing art in her work at Love and Light. I’d never heard her talk about dark energy before. She was a believer in the light and spreading more light in the world. One time when I was in elementary school and she was teaching me to meditate, I asked her what I should do if I saw something scary. She immediately made a T with her hands and told me to stop right there. “I’m wiping that out of the matrix, Margaret. We set our intention to work in the light. Before you meditate or do visualization, call on the light and only light beings to surround you.”

  Her message stuck. We never discussed darkness again.

  As if reading my mind, she continued. “I can see by your face that you’re confused.”

  “It’s just that you always talk about calling on the light. You never talk about the dark.”

  She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Darkness exists, but we’re at choice as to whether we chose to attract it. I’ve seen a similar darkness in my Reiki practice before. It’s usually
nothing to worry about. It’s simply the old negative energy leaving the body. With Sheriff Daniels it felt different, but I pushed those feelings aside. I thought that I was conflicted, since I had feelings for him almost instantly. Dark power can be seductive.” She said this more to herself than me.

  “Are you saying that Sheriff Daniels has negative energy in him?” That didn’t surprise me. The sheriff had a tendency to be gruff, but I figured part of that was because I had interrupted his investigations. My conversation with Gam was starting to feel like we were dissecting Star Wars themes or something.

  “I inherently believe that we all are from the light and that darkness is a choice.”

  “So the sheriff is . . .” I waited in hopes that she would fill in the blank. Instead she shook her head and sighed.

  “Margaret, this isn’t your worry.”

  “But, Gam.”

  She brushed her hands together, a sign that she was clearing her energy. “I don’t want to focus on anything but the light. I’m sending him lots of light as I do to everyone.”

  I wanted to ask more, but I could tell that she was done with the conversation. We chatted about the weather, my trip to Bend, and Jill taking off for Italy. I promised Gam that I would come for dinner on the patio when I was back.

  She wrapped the scarf around her shoulders and walked me to the door an hour later. “Margaret, I don’t want to involve you in this, and I’m not usually one for warnings, but I think it’s best that you steer clear of Sheriff Daniels.”

  “Okay.” This was very unlike Gam.

  “I’ve put a special blessing on this eye agate,” she said, placing a smooth, unusual stone in my hand. Ringed, layered bands in gray, pink, brown, and purple created an eye in the middle of the stone. “I want you to keep it on you.”

  I ran my fingers across the cold agate. “What’s it for?”

  “Protection,” she said quietly.

  Chapter 5

  My time with Gam left me feeling confused and unsettled. I made the mistake of Googling the eye agate when I got home. The description sent chills up my spine. According to ancient lore, the eye agate had been used for centuries across many cultures to ward off evil and for protection against black magic.