Red Lily

I was telling her I felt guilty about you buying it for me. And I guess I got emotional.” She sent a pleading look at Roz, clearly begging confidence. “And then she was just there. Like a bang. I’m a little bit vague on it. It was like hearing a conversation—like when you hold a glass to a wall to hear what people are saying in the next room. All sort of tinny and echoing.”
    “She was amused, in my opinion, in a nasty sort of way,” Roz began, and took them through it.
    “She was accustomed to receiving gifts for sex.” Mitch scribbled in his notebook. “So that’s how she’d equate the bracelet Hayley’s wearing. She wouldn’t understand,” he continued, hearing the quiet sound of distress she made, “generosity, or the pleasure of giving for the sake of the gift. When something was given to her, it was an exchange. Never a token of affection.”
    Hayley nodded and continued to sit on the floor with Lily.
    “She came here,” he continued. “By her own words she came here at night. She wanted to cause harm to Reginald, perhaps the entire household. Maybe even planned to. But she didn’t. We could assume harm came to her here. She said she was here, always.”
    “Died here.” Hayley nodded. “Remains here. Yes. It felt like that. Like I could almost, almost, see what was in her head while it was happening. And that’s what it felt like. She died here, and she stays here. And she thinks of the child she had as a baby still. She’s the way she was then, and in her mind—I think—so is her son.”
    “So she relates to, is drawn to, children,” Harper finished. “Once they grow up, they’re no real substitute for hers. Especially if they happen to grow up into men.”
    “She came to help me when I needed it,” Roz pointed out. “She recognizes the blood connection. Acknowledgesit, at least when it suits her. Hayley’s heightened emotions brought her out. But then she answered questions, she spoke intelligently.”
    “So I’m a kind of conduit.” Hayley fought back another shudder. “But why me?”
    “Maybe because you’re a young mother,” Mitch suggested. “Close to the age she was when she died, raising a child—something that was denied her. She made life. It was stolen from her. When life is stolen, what’s left?”
    “Death,” Hayley said with a shudder. She stayed where she was when Lily ran over to Harper and lifted her arms to be held. “She’s getting stronger, that’s how it felt. She likes having a body around her, having her say. She’d like more. She’d like . . .”
    She caught herself twisting the bracelet, and stared down at it. “I forgot,” she whispered. “Oh God, I forgot. Last night, when I was dressing, checking myself out in the mirror. She was there.”
    “You had one of these experiences last night?” Harper demanded.
    “No. Or not like this one. She was there, instead of me, in the mirror. I wasn’t—” She shook her head impatiently. “I was me, all the way, but the reflection was her. I didn’t say anything because I just didn’t want to go around about it last night. I just wanted to get out awhile, then everything . . . it went out of my mind until now. She wasn’t like we’ve seen her before.”
    “What do you mean?” Mitch sat, pencil poised.
    “She was all dressed up. A red dress, but not like what I was wearing. Fancy gown, low-cut, off the shoulders. Ball gown, I’d guess. She wore a lot of jewels. Rubies and diamonds. The necklace was . . .” She trailed off to stare at the bracelet in speechless shock.
    “Rubies and diamonds,” she repeated. “She waswearing this. This bracelet. I’m sure of it. When I saw it at the hotel, I was so pulled toward it. I couldn’t see anything else in the display. She was wearing this, on her right wrist. It was hers. This was hers.”
    Mitch left his seat to crouch on the floor by Hayley and examine the bracelet. “I don’t know anything about dating jewelry, about eras along this avenue. Harper, did the jeweler give you a history?”
    “Circa 1890,” he said tightly. “I never thought twice about it.”
    “Maybe she pushed you to buy it for me.” Hayley shoved to her feet. “If she—”
    “No. I wanted to give you something. It’s as simple as that. If it makes you uncomfortable to have it, or weirds you out, we can keep it in the safe.”
    Utter trust, she remembered. That was love. “No. It wasn’t an exchange, it was a gift.” She crossed to him,